Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
“Hold here,” Tim said, pausing to wipe sweat from his brow.
Scott held the stem of the tomato plant, pinning it to the cane. The beef tomatoes were turning from green to orange, not close to ripe, but the size and weight of them threatened to snap the stems.
Tim used a cable tie, pulling it tight around the stem and cane to give the plant support. The stuffy, humid air of the greenhouse made it hard to breathe, and Scott knelt in the dirt while Tim stood beside him. Through the glass, they could see Thomas strolling the herb garden outside.
Scott couldn’t help but smile, which didn’t go unnoticed by Tim.
“What’s happened?” Tim asked.
“Nothing.”
“The last time you were out here with me, you were cursing his name.”
“That was a long, long time ago.”
“It was five days ago, Scott, but I’m glad you sorted it out.” Tim sighed as he took in Thomas. “It’s nice to see him out here enjoying the gardens again.”
Something had changed between Scott and Thomas, but neither of them brought it up. Neither of them wanted to start the conversation where they tried to work out what exactly they were and where they were going.
After Scott had used his mouth to make Thomas cum, they kissed some more on the sofa, Scott more than happy to spend the rest of the day sat in Thomas’s lap, but Thomas had brought it to an end, suggesting they both have showers before dinner.
They didn’t act like it hadn’t happened when they ate that evening, but they didn’t talk about it either. Scott itched to know whether Thomas describing him as perfect for him was said in the heat of the moment or to please their audience.
His heart hoped it had been neither; his heart wanted that statement to have been true.
Maybe the wrong person was, in fact, the right one in the end.
“Next one,” Tim said, and Scott shuffled along on his knees to the biggest tomato plant.
Scott gripped the stem, easing it over to the cane Tim had staked deep in the ground. One of the tomatoes hit his cheek like a fist, and he grunted.
“Damn it,” Tim huffed.
“What is it?”
“I’m out of cable ties.”
Scott frowned. He pointed at the half a dozen black ones pointing out of Tim’s pocket.
“They’re not biodegradable.”
“Why do you have them then?”
Tim sighed. “In case I desperately need them.”
Scott looked pointedly at the stem in his hand.
“Slowly let it go,” Tim said. He checked his watch. “If I leave now, I can get to the garden centre before it shuts.”
“Or we could finish the job now with the black cable tie…”
Tim yanked his balled-up hat from one of his pockets and shoved it on his head. “Shouldn’t be long. A few hours maybe.”
“A few hours!”
“I like to take my time.” Tim shrugged. He looked out the window. “He’s gone.”
Scott got to his feet, scanning the vicinity for Thomas.
He’d moved on from the herb garden.
“I’ll go find him,” Scott said, dusting his hands together.
“Take your net with you, it’s a windy day.”
The wind through his hair and down his loose shirt came as a relief when he left the green house. He took a deep breath, picking up mint and basil from the herb garden.
He preferred it to the warm, tomato-scented air of the greenhouse.
Scott waited for Tim to leave in his van before grabbing his net and going off in search of Thomas.
He got as many leaves, petals, and twigs from the ponds as he could while admiring the huge koi carp with the scar down his side.
Thomas couldn’t be seen anywhere, and Scott got as far as the wildlife pond before deciding he must’ve gone back inside the mansion.
It was that, or he’d been eaten by the swans, but there were no tattered scraps of clothing in the reeds, or body parts floating in the water.
Scott turned and took a casual stroll back to the house.
The black door at the top of the spiral staircase had been propped open.
Scott wondered whether Thomas would ever give him a key, then immediately scowled at himself for the thought.
Thomas had given him a month, and it was a day away from being over, but he hadn’t dared to ask what happened next, and Thomas hadn’t brought it up either.
They were in a stalemate neither one of them had the courage to break.
Thomas stood waiting for him in the corridor.
“That’s not creepy at all,” Scott muttered, letting the door latch behind him. He remembered to wipe his shoes on the mat.
“I saw you coming,” Thomas replied. “Cameras… Scott, we need to talk.”
Thomas had found his courage first, kick-starting Scott’s own into making an appearance.
“I know.” He scratched the back of his head as he eased out a breath.
One slow breath wasn’t enough; he exhaled again while his gut tied itself in a knot.
He wasn’t experienced at being internally strangled by his emotions, but he’d promised himself the night before that he’d tell Thomas how he felt, lay all his cards down on the table and pray Thomas didn’t flip them over in a rejection.
“In here,” Thomas said, gesturing to the kitchen. His voice gave nothing away.
Scott hurried inside before he lost his nerve. There were two glasses of water on the table, and Thomas had already pulled Scott’s preferred chair out for him to sit down. It gave Scott business meeting vibes, not that he’d ever been in one.
Scott sat down, but Thomas didn’t. He braced his hands on the table, closing his eyes as he breathed out, and the nerves inside Scott skyrocketed.
They were no longer tinged with hope, but dread.
Scott hid his hands beneath the table, trying to stay calm, while internally mapping his bedroom, remembering where all his things were for a quick getaway.
If this was a business meeting, it was one where the boss was about to fire an employee, tell him to pack his stuff and leave immediately.
The cards Scott had been willing to lay down on the table glued themselves to his chest, hidden from view.
Thomas didn’t want him to stay.
Thomas had said those words in the heat of the moment, or to please their audience.
It was nothing to do with emotion.
Stupid, Scott hissed in his head. He’d done it again. But this time it wasn’t the idea, he’d actually done it, he’d fallen for someone who didn’t feel the same.
“I called The Priory.”
The words hung in the air. It took Scott a long minute before he understood what Thomas had said. His brain had tried to twist and merge it into a rejection before deciding it couldn’t; Thomas had definitely said something else.
“What?”
“The Priory,” Thomas repeated.
Scott frowned, rubbing his brow. “Why…why would you call The Priory?”
“Gut feeling.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I had a feeling that this guy you owe money to is the same one that was at The Frog & Toad, the one who frightened you.” Thomas bit his lip. “I think he’s the same man you told me about, the one client you said scared you when we were in the café.”
Scott’s heart pounded. It felt dangerously close to coming out of his body.
“And I think he’s the same person making those sick requests on our page.”
Scott pressed his lips in a firm line.
“Is he?” Thomas asked.
Scott knew he wouldn’t be able to speak, so he nodded instead.
Thomas looked away. “I called The Priory because I wanted his details. I wanted to get in contact with him so I could pay him directly, that way you would owe the debt to me and there would be no time limit, because that’s what he did, didn’t he? He gave you a time limit.”
“It was me. I suggested a month,” Scott said shakily.
“The woman on the phone told me some of the money got refunded.”
Scott frowned. “Refunded?”
“Megan didn’t stay for the full eight-week course. The bill came in at 75K. You’ve made it back… You made it yesterday.”
The money, Warren, they weren’t important in that moment. Thomas had used his sister’s name, saying it in such a way that spoke of grief.
Easy, Scott told himself, easy.
Don’t jump to the wrong conclusion.
Don’t lash out.
“Please say you didn’t,” Scott whispered.
“Didn’t what?”
“Look up my sister.”
Thomas dropped his shoulders. “I wanted to know what happened to her.”
“You didn’t.” Scott shook his head. “You wouldn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You bastard.”
“Scott –”
“No.” Scott smashed his fist down on the table. “It’s my life to tell or keep secret. You had no right to go snooping.”
“I was trying to help.”
“I didn’t need it.”
Thomas folded his arms. “You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t need help.”
“I could’ve looked you up too, Thomas. I could’ve snuck into that room in the night and read those files. I could’ve asked Tim or Janice, but I didn’t. I waited until you trusted me enough to tell me.”
“You were never going to tell me.”
Thomas’s words were a slap to the face.
“She…passed while we were inside together,” Thomas murmured.
Passed sounded too gentle, like her death was expected. It raised Scott’s hackles.
“She died while we were inside, yes.”
Thomas made an exasperated noise. “Didn’t those fuckers tell you?”
Scott blinked.
“Did they wait until you were out so you could find out for yourself?” He clenched his jaw.
“They told me. The governor told me.”
“But you didn’t leave the prison?” Thomas whispered. “You didn’t go to her funeral? Didn’t they let you –”
“They would’ve let me. The governor told me he’d make the necessary arrangements once there was a date, but I told him I wasn’t going. I didn’t want to go.”
Thomas took a step back. “But she was your sister?”
Scott’s anger spiked, and his claws popped out whether he wanted them to or not. “You don’t get to judge me. You don’t know me, Thomas, or my life. All you know about me is that I’m an escort, and I’m a fucking great one.”
“I know you, and this has nothing to do with your job.”
He spat the last word, and Scott gave him a twisted smile.
“It has everything to do with my job! You still can’t stand it, can you?”
“Stand what?”
“Me selling myself for money. Even though you paid for an escort yourself.”