The Wrong Man (20 page)

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Authors: Lane Hayes

BOOK: The Wrong Man
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As I navigated the MINI down my street, softly cooing to Mack who was panting anxiously in the passenger seat, I idly wondered what time Jake would come by and what, if anything, I should wear. We’d talked and texted a couple of times over the past few days so it was almost comical I would be so wound up. I felt the thrill of a new beginning in the funniest ways. A simple text message had me grinning like a fool while the deep timbre of his voice on the phone made my pulse accelerate.

When I pulled onto my street, all sexy thoughts fled when I saw a familiar car parked in front of my house. Mara. She was quite possibly one of my most favorite people on the planet, but her presence didn’t mesh with the X-rated plans I’d been making in my head. I sighed as I gathered my bags and then hurried to the passenger side to grab Mack’s leash. We were halfway up the path when I heard Mara call a cheery hello from the porch, followed immediately by, “Who is this?”

I kissed her cheek and made brief introductions. “Mara, this is Mack. Mack, Mara. Honey, my arms are about to fall off. Let me in my house please.”

Mara cackled joyfully and stepped aside to push the door ajar. I dropped my burdens, including Mack’s leash, and let out a dramatic sigh of relief. Unfortunately my relief was short-lived. Mack took advantage of the open door and my lax attention to make a beeline for the great outdoors. I yelped and ran after him, calling his name like a demented fool. I found him casually sniffing at the trees and shrubs in my front yard. He threw a bored glance in my general direction but carried on exploring his surroundings. I cautiously tiptoed across the grass and stepped on the leash when I got close enough. He never seemed to go far, but I wasn’t taking any chances on my watch.

“Aha!” Once again I was treated to an unimpressed stare before he continued sniffing.

I heard Mara approach from behind and turned to give her a helpless shrug, noting she looked fabulous as usual. She wore a bright orange, blousy long dress with a royal purple and ruby red scarf draped over her shoulders. A strand of traditional pearls was almost lost among the rhinestone-studded necklaces roped around her neck. With her platinum blond hair and generous use of cosmetics, including bright red lipstick, she should have looked clownish. Instead she looked gorgeous.

“Brandon darling, who is your friend?” She chuckled as Mack yanked me toward yet another tree.

“This is Mack. I’m dog sitting.” I tried to make it sound mundane, like the everyday occurrence it certainly was not.

She came to my side and set a motherly hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Are you feeling poorly?”

“I’m fine. Honestly.” I smiled wanly and hoped for inspiration. Standing outside holding a leash tethered to a dog on a mysterious hunt while my surrogate mother watched me warily for clues was disconcerting.

I looked into her brilliant blue eyes and sent up a quick prayer of thanksgiving to whatever force had brought this angel into my life. She was the mother mine never had been to me. She’d offered compassion, understanding, love, and even shelter when I had nowhere to turn. Above all, she was a crusader for original thought and free expression. The only way it was possible to disappoint Mara was by not being true to yourself.

“Hmm. You look good. Happy even. I’m sure there is a lovely story attached. Bring the puppy inside, and I’ll open a bottle of something so you can tell me all about it. I brought salads from that cute new bistro in Beverly Hills. Come on, darling.”

I waited until the haze of Dior cleared before I turned to see she’d gone back into my house. I took a deep breath and tugged at the leash insistently. I may as well prepare to bare my soul. Mara would expect nothing less.

She artfully arranged our salads on dinner plates while I opened a bottle of red wine. I made sure Mack had water, food, and his shot before I brought the wine into the living room. I poured two glasses and sat on the edge of the sofa before finally taking my first sip.

“Brandon dear, the fact you’ve invited a large hairy pet into your home and have willingly taken on medical duties is….”

“Different?” I supplied weakly as I turned my wrist to discreetly check the time.

“Something like that. What’s going on, and who are you
expecting? You have checked your phone or watch ten times since I walked in, and obviously you forgot I was coming by tonight. Which means there’s a man attached to this dog. Hmm?” She peered at me over the rim of her wine glass with a determined look in her eye.

I sighed heavily as I curled my legs underneath me. There was no point in attempting evasion. She’d get the story one way or another. I filled her in on recent events in a matter-of-fact tone, as though Jake’s presence in my life was practically normal. She raised a brow at my tone but didn’t seem overly concerned when she finally spoke.

“I remember him. Jake Westley. I liked him. He was a handsome boy. I
knew
there was something between you two. He used to look at you so… adoringly. That’s the word! He adored you. It was easy to see. A mother’s curse is to be proven correct ten years or more after the fact.”

“I’m sure. Well, we’re friends, and I’m helping him out with Mack while he works, and—”

“Brandon?” She waited until I inclined my head to continue speaking. “I’ve known you for too long. Don’t bother trying to pull the wool over my eyes. I don’t know exactly what happened all those years ago, and I don’t need to. Just be happy. If Jake and his charming dog make you happy… c’est la vie. My only word of advice is that you stop settling.”

“Settling for what?”

“You deserve the best. Settle for nothing less.” She patted my cheek affectionately, hopped to her feet gracefully, and grabbed her gigantic Louis Vuitton bag before spinning toward the door.

“Wait—what do you mean? I don’t settle.” Did I? I felt every wrinkle in my forehead as I tried to puzzle out her meaning.

“You’ll figure it out when you’re ready. I’m off! It looks like you have company anyway.” She flung the door open wide and greeted a bewildered-looking Jake with a brilliant smile. “Well, hello! It’s lovely to see you again, Jake. It’s been too long. Come in, come in! I’ve met your delightful dog. He’s a sweetheart. A little noisy….”

Mack had been a perfect gentleman during Mara’s visit but was now barking like crazy at Jake’s heel. Jake absently bent to greet his dog and shush him before giving Mara a sweet lopsided grin.

“Sorry about that. He gets excited. I…. It’s nice to see you again, ma’am.”

She let out a short laugh. “Call me Mara, darling. See you soon. Good-bye, sweet Brandon.”

I gave Jake a sideways half smile, chuckling at the look of confusion on his face. Luke’s mom tended to leave the average person a little befuddled. Jake shot me a shy grin as he reached for me. We stood on my front porch entangled in a sweet embrace. I brushed my cheek against his T-shirt and breathed in his familiar scent. He smelled, felt, and looked amazing. Geez, I was as bad as Mack, I thought, stepping back slightly to look down at the dog whimpering plaintively at our feet.

I caught on almost immediately that something was wrong. Mack’s cries were insistent, more like a whine. He was definitely trying to communicate. I looked at Jake with concern. He didn’t seem bothered by the dog’s anxiety at all.

“Jake? What’s wrong with him? Why is he doing that?”

He pursed his lips together and lifted a corner of his mouth as though attempting to smile before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort after all. Then he dropped to his knees beside the dog and hugged him fiercely. Mack’s whining subsided, but he crawled into Jake as closely as possible, licking his face and neck repeatedly before calmly sitting between his legs with his chin resting on Jake’s knee. The exchange was as puzzling as it was endearing. I waited for Jake to offer an explanation. He didn’t. He stayed where he was for a long moment, cuddling the dog with soft pets and praise.

When Jake finally stood, I was the one left feeling anxious. I bit at my bottom lip nervously and waited for him to enlighten me.

“Jake?”

“I’m sorry. It’s been a rough—” He looked at the darkened street before turning to face me.

We stared at each other in the moonlit shadows cast by the amber tree in my front yard before I took his hand and pulled him inside. I walked toward the kitchen, listening to his heavier footfall behind me and the musical jingle from Mack’s collar. I poured two glasses of wine and handed him one.

“Are you okay?” I kept my tone low, as if sensing a need for solemnity.

“I’m fine. Like I said, rough day. Thanks for taking care of—”

“Thank me later. What is it? What happened? Why did Mack cry?”

Jake looked down at the adoring dog, who literally sat on his foot in a protective stance. I could have sworn there were tears in his eyes when he glanced up at me. He blinked twice, and when he looked at me again, I wasn’t so sure. Something was up, though.

“Mack is special, Bran. He’s a service dog. Or he was supposed to be but—”

“What do you mean? Like for visual impairment?”

“Yes. Or hearing impairment, or stress and anxiety disorders.”

The air was thick with the strong unknown current I sometimes sensed between us. Sometimes it was sexual, like an energy that had never dissipated all those years ago. But this time, I couldn’t begin to guess the source. I leaned against the kitchen counter and waited. He still wouldn’t speak.

“Is there something wro—”

“Bran—”

“I’m listening.”

He met my gaze and nodded before taking a seat at the small kitchen table. Mack resumed his place at Jake’s feet.

“There’s nothing wrong. I’m fine. But I’ve had issues with anxiety, and sometimes I still do. It’s just been a crappy day and—”

“What happened?” I whispered.

“Apartment fire. Family displaced. Everything gone. Including the nine-year-old kid’s pet cat. She was devastated. So… sad.” He shook his head. “It sucked. And Mack knew it.”

We both looked at the patient yellow Lab, who’d decided it was safe to nap. He groaned and let his front paws slide in front of him as he closed his eyes.

“He reminds me to breathe. He calms me when he senses distress. It sounds crazy, but it’s true. I didn’t know any of that when I lobbied for him to come live with Der and me. I was trying to save a dog from the shelter. It turns out he was bred as a service dog but failed some part of the training. Probably the part about getting into automobiles,” Jake added with a small laugh. “Even though he didn’t pass for the big game, he made a great family dog. Little did he know he’d be put to work after all.”

“How? Is it your work? Is it the stress or—”

“No. I mean…. Look, sometimes my past makes it hard for me to process stress. Not in a debilitating way, but Mack helps.” He swiped a hand across his jaw in frustration. “That probably makes no sense.”

He looked down at Mack, who immediately sat up and set a paw on Jake’s thigh. If the night hadn’t taken this surreal twist, I would have cheered wildly at the clever dog’s antics. Now I was left wondering how many times I’d misread a situation because I only looked for surface clues. I bit my lip hard as I watched them giving and taking comfort by touch. By sharing the same space, they wordlessly eased each other’s pain. Jake’s hand on Mack’s snout and Mack’s paw on his knee. So simple, and yet there was more here than met the eye. The only way for me to understand was to ask the one question I had avoided like the plague.

“What happened, Jake? After high school?”

“You don’t—”

“Yes. I do. Talk to me.”

He cocked his head slightly and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“I was a fucking mess after my family turned me away. I didn’t handle it well. I was so lost and so ashamed of myself. It was really fucking scary to know for the first time ever, I had no one on my side. I wallowed in self-pity and became a pretty miserable excuse for a human. The only thing that kept me going was hope. Hope they’d change their minds, and we’d figure it out. Permanent ex-communication? Not in a million years would I have thought it possible. I thought they’d loved me.
Me.
The kid they raised. The one whose games they watched rain or shine from age five through high school. The one they taught to ride a bike, drive a car, and show compassion and kindness to those in need. I grew up never ever doubting I was a valuable member of a close-knit, typical, all-American family. I never doubted my place.”

Jake took a deep breath and stroked the dog’s face lovingly. “Until I came out.

“I didn’t think they’d be happy about my revelation, but I figured they’d come around eventually. They didn’t. And I didn’t handle it well. At all. I didn’t have a dime to my name. I had nothing. I was forced to drop out of college, but I’d never had a real job before, and it wasn’t so easy to get even a poor paying one. So I sold drugs. And did drugs. I wanted to be numb. And then, I just wanted to die.”

I gasped. My hands flew to my mouth.

“It’s true. I hated… me. In my nineteen- and twenty-year-old mind, being gay was the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. I was sure of it. It was responsible for colossal loss. I lost you because I was scared. I lost my family when I thought bravery would free me. Everything important to me was gone because of this… affliction. This thing inside me. I was okay when I was numb. Everything was okay. But of course, it really wasn’t.”

I felt nervous suddenly. I needed to move, to do something. I went to the sink and poured a glass of water, then set it at Jake’s elbow. He smiled slightly and took my hand. He kissed it and pointed to the chair opposite him. I obeyed.

“I was twenty-one, a drug addict, a dealer and all-out failure when Nate found me in the wreck of a garage fire. I don’t remember much, but the night I almost died turned out to be the night I was saved. And I don’t mean from the fire.” Jake paused to take a sip of water. “Nate owned the apartment building, and his brother, Ryan, was one of the firefighters on the first response team. I was in the hospital for a week or more, and they came to visit me every day. They played a ‘good cop, bad cop’ brother routine. Nate wanted to know what the fuck I was doing, squatting in the garage of his rental property, while Ry wanted to know how he could help. Every day I told them to fuck off. I wanted to die, not be saved.” Jake paused and gave a humorless chuckle. “Anyone else would have walked away and reminded themselves not to give two fucks the next time. But not those two. They wouldn’t give up.”

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