Chapter 4
Jackson
“He was fucking killing someone and none of you cared?!” I roared, looking at the guilty people around us.
The poor sub had yelled out red, which had me hurrying away from the bar.
I’d heard bad things about this club, but to see people ignoring someone getting fucking strangled to death, and after having yelled out a safe word everyone here should know and respect?
They should’ve known something wasn’t right.
I was fuming as I knocked the jackass out cold.
Only when I saw he was, in fact, unconscious, did I look at the sub.
My breath vanished in a whoosh when I met the red eyes, rimmed with black.
Pete. What was he doing here?! This wasn’t a place for someone as soft and innocent as him.
Did Mike know about this? Pete was only eighteen, for fucks sake!
Kneeling in front of him, I took in his injuries.
He would have a huge bruise around his neck for at least a week.
And I would have many words with him as soon as I had him back at my place.
Thankfully, Mike was away for a month. A work trip to Japan that’d come out of nowhere and Mike had instantly said yes, eager to experience the world.
I was only here because I was meeting up with someone I’d met online.
With Mike gone, I could bring the sub back to our place without causing him further trauma.
Pete’s mom couldn’t see her son with a bruise like that, and I selfishly didn’t want to let him out of my sight.
Ever since I saw his huge innocent eyes the first time we’d met, I’d felt protective over him, feeling like a bonus big brother.
Seeing him so broken was the worst thing I’d ever experienced. Including my childhood.
I picked him up, feeling him instantly snuggle into my arms. A warm feeling spread in my chest over having him trust me. He knew he was safe in my arms. I tightened my hold, unable to stop myself. I would make it okay. I would protect him.
I decided to leave my bike and called an Uber instead. Pete wasn’t getting on the back in that skimpy outfit.
Pete was quiet the whole drive, only occasionally would he peek out from my chest at our surroundings.
The Uber driver had demanded we put our seatbelts on, but one look at Pete’s face—and neck—had him shutting up.
I didn’t know why I felt somewhat responsible.
Like I’d failed Pete. I had no idea he was interested in BDSM.
I doubted Mike knew, hell, I doubted he'd want to know. But there wasn’t time for my guilt.
I knew logically it wasn’t my fault he was hurt, but I guess him being Mike’s younger brother meant I, too, felt obligated to help him.
The car stopped just outside mine and Mike’s apartment. It wasn’t anything fancy, the building old and with a brick facade, but it was home.
With Pete still on my lap it was a struggle to unbuckle, but in the end I succeeded. I was almost sad the ride was over. I liked having Pete in my lap, showing me he trusted me to make everything better.
I thanked the driver, and carried Pete up the stairs. Unlocking the door while Pete was still in my arms was the hardest part, but I somehow managed to get us inside, then kicked the door shut behind us.
I knew he needed comfort, so I carried him straight into my room. Would it be weird sleeping with him in my bed? Maybe. But I also knew he shouldn’t be alone. I could easily find some sleep shorts or something so it wouldn’t be too inappropriate.
I sat down with him, leaning back against my headboard.
He got comfortable in my lap, snuggling into my chest even more, like he needed to get under my skin to feel safe.
It broke my heart seeing him this broken.
Pete had always been shy and quiet most of the time when I was around, but never broken.
“Hey,” I whispered soothingly, stroking his back. “I think it would be best if you slept in here with me. I don’t want you to be alone. Is that okay with you?” I still had to remember to ask for consent on these things, I couldn’t just do what I felt was best for him.
He nodded against my chest. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from being strangled.
“No need to thank me, Pete. But I should let your mom know you won’t be home.”
Just as I’d said it, his phone buzzed in his front pocket. How those short—and tight—things could hold his phone was a mystery. He made no move to grab it, so I tried to get it out for him. I saw Dylan’s name and answered the call.
“Hi Dylan, it’s Jackson,” I greeted. I’d met Dylan a handful of times over the years and I knew they were best friends. Maybe Dylan knew where Pete had gone tonight and wanted to check up on him. Like a good friend would do.
“Oh,” he sounded surprised that I answered, hell, I was too. “Is Pete, um, there?” I smiled at his obvious confusion.
“He is. Did you know where he was going tonight?” I asked, knowing I should ask before telling him Pete had been assaulted.
“Yeah, um, that’s why I was calling when he didn’t answer my texts. Is he okay? Can I speak with him?”
I looked at Pete who could clearly hear everything through the phone. He nodded and I held the phone closer to him. “Hi,” he rasped.
“Fuck, Petey. Are you okay? You sound horrible. Did something happen?” My appreciation of Dylan continued to grow.
“Bad man,” Pete replied, leaving it at that.
“I told you not to go there! Or to at least wait a little.” Dylan sounded angry, but I knew it was from fear and not true anger aimed at Pete.
“I’m sorry,” Pete said. “You know why I had to do it.”
Dylan sighed. “I know. Are you okay now?”
“I am.” Pete mirrored his sigh. “Jackson took me back to Mike’s and his place.”
“Good,” Dylan replied, sounding awfully smug about it. Was he pleased I’d helped his best friend? I bet that was it.
I moved the phone back to my face. “Dylan. Pete can’t come home for the next few days… he’s um… he’s got some bruises, and I know his mom would lose it if she saw.”
“Say no more,” Dylan replied easily. “If she asks, he’s staying with me. We’ve talked about him moving in here anyway.” Why did I hate the thought of him living with Dylan? It felt wrong, but why? Dylan was proving to be the perfect friend for Pete. I knew he would do anything to keep Pete safe.
“Sleepy,” Pete whispered, and I pushed my confusing thoughts to the side. Pete needed my full attention.
“Dylan, we have to go. Pete needs rest, but I’m sure he will call you tomorrow and tell you everything himself.”
“Take care of him. And thank you for being there. I look forward to hearing everything.”
We hung up and I stared down at Pete’s vulnerable face.
His eyes were closed as he rested his face on my chest. He looked so adorable, even with blackened mascara smudges on his cheeks.
I believed we still had some makeup remover from when Vera slept over.
Once Pete settled down some, I’d go get it.