Chapter 5
Afew days later, Jude handed over a plain brown paper package wrapped in twine and smiled at Mrs. Westbrooke. “Your chuck roast, as requested. Anything else I can get you today?”
Mrs. Westbrooke’s expression shifted to confusion. “Chuck? I wanted a brisket.”
Jude froze for a moment, absolutely sure he’d heard her request a chuck.
Mrs. Westbrooke’s daughter-in-law approached and took the chuck roast. “Mom, you asked him for a chuck. Not a brisket. We’ll get a brisket next time if you want.”
Jude sighed with relief.
“Oh,” Mrs. Westbrooke murmured, her gaze going hazy. She refocused on Jude and offered a pale smile. “Sorry. My memory’s not what it used to be.”
Jude winced inwardly but forced a wide smile. “I’d forget my head some days if it wasn’t attached. We’re all too busy these days, hmm?”
Mrs. Westbrooke chuckled, but there was no real humor in her eyes. “See you next week, Gabriel.”
Jude eyed her as she turned toward their register. Gabriel was his father’s name.
“Sorry about that,” Jill Westbrooke said as she eyed her mother-in-law wandering toward the cashier.
“She okay?” Jude asked in a hushed tone. Mrs. Westbrooke had been coming into the butcher shop since before he’d been born. She and his father had been old, old friends.
“No. She’s not,” Jill murmured. She offered a pale smile just like her mother-in-law’s had been. “She’s losing more and more as the weeks go by. I’m sorry she called you… you know.”
“My dad was a good man,” Jude replied. “She can call me Gabriel all she wants.”
Jill leaned against the counter, closer to him. “I hope it won’t be too difficult having her shopping here. I like getting her out of the house every so often—and familiar places seem to make her less agitated.”
Jude swallowed the lump in his throat. “Routines are important right now. You keep bringing her in as long as you can. I’ll be just fine.”
“You’re a sweetheart,” Jill said. She glanced at the register and then back to him. “I better catch up before she leaves me.”
“See you next week,” Jude said. He paused to eye the older woman, his heart aching for the family.
He knew exactly what they were going through.
Watching his dad slowly lose himself had been one of the worst things he’d ever experienced in his life.
He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even his worst enemies.
A couple of regulars standing in line waved at him, smiling.
He made a little small talk with those he knew before he scanned the cases to see what was getting low.
He had three employees taking orders behind the counter, rolling to keep up with the line, so he felt bad wasting too much time with chit-chat, but that was part of doing business, too.
Those regulars helped keep the doors open.
Once he had a mental list of what was getting empty, he slipped through the swinging door to the cutting room. Three of his five butchers were working with him to keep the cases filled. “We’re running low on chuck roasts and mince,” he announced. “We have enough trim to cut?”
“Not much,” Paulie, his right hand man, answered. “But I’m about to break down another fore quarter for roasts. I can give you some trim to grind.”
“Good, good,” Jude said. “I’m going to french that lamb rack for the Campbells’ special order while you’re doing that. Then I’ll work on the mince.”
Jude got into the groove, focusing on the work instead of Mrs. Westbrooke.
Or rather, what her failing health had reminded him of.
The second anniversary of his dad’s passing was looming, and he was still struggling with that loss.
Some days were better than others. Work helped.
It was always there. He was always needed. He was surrounded by people.
Jude could turn off his brain and stay busy.
Until they closed up shop.
An hour after he’d locked the doors at six, his team had finished prepping for the following morning and cleaned the place from top to bottom.
“See you tomorrow,” Paulie said as he headed out.
“Night, Paulie.”
Jude followed him out before he pulled the security gates down over the front of the butcher shop and the deli.
He stepped back and surveyed the street.
It had once been the heart of the retail district, but as many of the owners had aged out without someone to take over, more and more of the buildings had fallen empty.
A couple had been bought and were already empty a second time after new businesses failed.
Not a single car passed. A couple of the streetlights not too far from the shop had blown out and the township hadn’t replaced them, even after he’d called.
A shiver raced down Jude’s spine from the eerie quiet.
He didn’t like the quiet.
Marching toward the alley, he needed to get out of his head before it went to places he didn’t want it to go.
He feared the slow demise of the businesses around him might eventually force him to close his doors.
Sales had slipped. Barely, but enough to water a seed of doubt.
He didn’t want to lose the business his father had built.
He climbed the stairs to his apartment, a steak wrapped in brown craft paper under one arm. Once up, he showered the day off and dragged on a pair of sweatpants before tossing the steak into a sizzling cast iron skillet.
He sat in front of the tv, alone, and ate his steak and a salad he’d cobbled together. When he was done, he cleaned up the mess. The drone of the television was the only noise, but it wasn’t enough to fill the emptiness inside.
A crushing weight laid on his chest, making it harder to breath by the second. Fingering the scars inside his wrist, he felt the darkness calling.
He wouldn’t let it win again.
Jude grabbed his phone and texted Anton, needing a distraction.
Jude
Preseason game my place?
Anton was more of a basketball guy, but he needed company before his mind drifted to all the wrong places. He busied himself, cleaning the apartment as he peeked at the preshow and the game. An hour later and there was no response from Anton.
Jude grabbed his phone again to check but opened Grindr instead. Scanning the usual suspects, he scrolled past the hometown heroes he wasn’t interested in knowing any better before he eyed a guy he’d met up with a few times in the past.
Chris. A blond-haired, blue-eyed charmer with a tight body and killer smile.
His dick wasn’t all that big, but the sex had been decent, and he hadn’t overstayed his welcome.
He was from a couple of townships away, close enough for fun and far enough away that he didn’t have to worry about running into him around every corner.
On right now…
Less than a half hour later, he answered the door and welcomed Chris inside.
“I was hoping we might meet up again,” Chris said with a grin.
Jude wasn’t in the mood for small talk, so he leaned in and kissed the guy. “Why don’t you show me how excited you are to see me?”
“Can do,” Chris replied with that killer smile before racing up the stairs behind Jude.
Once in the bedroom, their clothes came off at a fever pace. Jude dropped to his knees and captured Chris’s cock between his lips while stroking his own hard cock. No prelude. No conversation. Just a quick, fast, hopefully hard fuck to wear him out and help him sleep.
Before his head got him into trouble.
The deafening silence of the apartment was finally broken by Chris’s breathy moans.
Jude trembled at the sound of them, pulse quickening.
He swallowed Chris to the back of his throat, needing to get him rock hard and ready.
Chris sank his fingers into Jude’s hair, trying to slow him down. Jude brushed them away.
They’d go at his pace or none at all.
“Where’s the fire?” Chris asked between groans.
Jude let Chris’s cock pop from his lips. “It’s eleven ten on a Thursday night, and I’ve gotta be up for work at six. I don’t have time for slow. I just wanna get off and go to sleep. Do you have a problem with that?”
Chris eyed him. “No. Get up on the bed.”
Jude rose. “No, you get up on the bed.”
Chris narrowed his eyes. “Bossier than usual tonight, hmm?”
“Yeah, maybe I am,” Jude said, shoving Chris back toward the bed. The guy hadn’t seen just how bossy he could be, but he might that night.
Chris’s eyes twinkled with amusement. While he’d made a few off-the-cuff comments about Jude’s dominant streak, he kept coming back for more. It made him think the guy was into it. Considering his mood, they were going even farther.
The final harder push landed Chris on his backside.
Chris crabwalked a little higher on the bed as Jude pulled out a container of BoyButter and a condom from his nightstand.
He tossed the condom to Chris, who immediately drew it on without complaint.
It was another reason he liked having the guy over.
Once he’d lubed himself up, he straddled Chris’s lap. Leaning forward, he kissed the guy while using the leftover on his hand to coat Chris’s cock behind him.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Chris said between kisses.
Jude aimed the head of Chris’s cock toward his hole and slowly sank down a few inches once the head popped past the thick band of nerves.
Chris moaned, his head falling back as Jude rose and sank down a little farther.
By the third stroke, he had Chris to the root.
Pausing, he rubbed his hands over Chris’s chest.
“Ready?” Jude asked.
“Oh yeah.”
Jude took a few tentative strokes before his body adjusted. He soon rode the guy, bouncing on Chris’s cock while stroking himself. Chris tried to roll them over, but he pinned the guy’s shoulders to the bed with both hands and quickened his pace.
“Can’t let me lead at all?”
“Nope,” Jude muttered, closing his eyes and focusing on the feel of the cock inside him. Of the sound of their bodies slapping together. Hot. Sweaty. Rough fucking. Just how he liked it.