Chapter Three
James hadn’t started a new job in seven years.
Nello Industries lured him in with a lucrative salary, stable security analyst position, and most of all, the chance to start over outside Sacramento.
Still, going somewhere new, faced with a different building, different coworkers, and different routines wasn’t easy by a longshot. He shifted in the uncomfortable seat, waiting for HR to arrive to get everything settled.
Didn’t help that fresh guilt followed him from the weekend.
The night at Ouroboros had been just shy of perfection. He hadn’t experienced a high like that from domming…well, not for years. And Nolan…hell, Nolan was stunning. Hot enough to make the blood scorch in his veins, an attraction he doubted he was capable of anymore.
Yet the second Nolan threw the veiled offer out there, of a spin in the sheets they’d both remember, James shut down.
In the past year, though he’d scened with others, he hadn’t hooked up.
Once upon a time, casual sex had been a norm for him.
Even in his and Andrew’s ethically non-monogamous relationship, they’d both hooked up with other people, sometimes had other relationships.
Yet, after Andrew passed away, he couldn’t engage in anything light or easy.
That wasn’t a part of his life in the aftermath.
“Mr. Walker?” A woman stepped into the room and slid into the seat behind the desk. “I’m Nancy, one of the heads of HR here. Are you all settled with your move?”
James resisted chewing his lip. Technically, he still lived in a short-term rental.
Had been for the past few weeks. He’d started to look through apartments, but Meg had a lead for a room, one in a house, and he was tempted to trust her.
She’d muttered something about his lonely ass, and she knew the person renting the place.
“I’m getting situated, but I’m ready to start the job. ”
Nancy offered a friendly smile. She looked to be in her mid-fifties with reddish-gray hair pulled back in a bun and wearing a crisp black pantsuit. “We’re excited to have you on board. You come highly recommended.”
This place seemed professional, which James preferred.
Work stayed at work, home stayed at home, and never the twain would meet.
After Andrew passed, the streams became convoluted, everyone reaching out to see how they could help him.
Offering pitying looks and back pats when passing him in the hall.
He’d loathed it.
“Paperwork’s all filled out here,” James said, pushing it forward.
Nancy skimmed it. “Excellent. Have you met the team you’ll be working with?”
“Briefly at the interview,” he said.
“I’ll walk you over to our IT room. They’re a good bunch,” Nancy said, rising again from her seat. James pushed up, ready to focus on the present rather than the past. The past kept dragging him down.
His footsteps echoed through the paste white hallways, typical of most corporate offices he’d worked in.
Unlike many, he enjoyed the routine, cool colors, and neat, spartan aspect of it.
He loved the work he did since it allowed him to flex the skills he’d learned hacking while skirting issues with the law.
Nancy stopped before a room on the right. “Here’s the IT staff. They’ll drag you right into the mix.”
James offered a wan smile. “Thanks for the welcome.”
“If you need anything, you know where to find me. I may have more forms to fill out, but I’ll bring them to you,” Nancy said before striding off the way she came.
James sucked in a sharp breath. These people didn’t know his past. Then he stepped inside the room.
At least ten individuals sat in cubicles, the glow of screens lighting them up. When he closed the door behind him, a guy to the left peeked up. His short hair was dark and his face familiar—and then the dots connected.
“James?” Parker said, shooting up from his seat. “What are you doing here?”
Another one of the Whipped crew, of course.
James shook his head, a rueful grin on his lips, even though a frisson of discomfort rippled through him.
Keeping his two lives separate would be harder with someone from the San Francisco kink scene working here.
Yet, Parker was a good sort and likely understood the need for boundaries.
“I’m your new security analyst,” James said, running his hand over his head.
“No shit,” Parker said with a huge grin. “Come on over. Cubicle over there is yours. This is the crew.”
“How do you know him?” another white guy said beside him, this one with glasses and blond hair.
James shared a quick glance with Parker. “He’s a friend of my ex-girlfriend, who I’m on excellent terms with.”
“Ken here is also new,” blond guy said, pointing to a built white guy with a shaved head who loomed behind the computer he sat at. “He started a few weeks ago.”
“The work is easy though,” Ken said, too smug in a way that labeled him in his mind. “Not too tough of a curve.”
Parker arched a brow, a movement James didn’t miss. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one unimpressed by this guy’s ego. “Anyway, come over to your cubicle, and I’ll get you in the system.”
“Thanks, man,” James said, a slight tension in his shoulders settling.
As much as he liked separation between work and home life, having an acquaintance amidst all this new was better than he thought it might be.
He strode to the only open cubicle, which was where Parker headed and just so happened to be next to Ken’s.
As long as the man could focus on work, he could tolerate loudmouths—had dealt with plenty in his day.
“Didn’t know your last name, but I’m glad to have you on the crew,” Parker said quietly. While some Whipped workers were loud and bombastic, Parker was a chill protector type, at least from the brief glimpses James had caught between him and his boy, Micah.
“Hopefully this’ll end up being a good move,” James responded, a prickle nearing the surface that he shoved down.
Combating the daily waves that grief brought was a full-time job, alternating with numb spells and periods of being okay.
The okay periods spurred the guilt though, and then the cycle started all over again.
“Hell yeah,” Parker said, offering a genuine smile.
The guy wasn’t dressed as formally as James was used to, in fact, a lot of the staff here didn’t wear suits like he’d been expected to for former jobs, which meant he might need to adjust his workwear.
Instead, Parker wore an open button-down, a shirt with Linux coding, and slacks.
“All right,” Parker said. “I’ve got the introductory modules set up for you, which will help get you in the necessary systems. Sound good?”
James nodded and relaxed at the computer. This was a sphere where he could shut out his problems, his thoughts of his current move, his fears for the future. The new job was picking open scabs, the massive change shaking his foundation, but he’d claim any reprieve he could.
As he’d learned a year ago, survival meant taking things moment by moment.
***
James had worked through the day with ease, and all too quickly, the end of it had arrived.
He dreaded it.
Starting work gave him a distraction and the focus he needed. He liked being elsewhere, rather than in the short-term place he stayed while apartment hunting. He hadn’t wanted to fully commit until he started the job, but now it was time.
“You did great, man,” Parker said, stopping by with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Ken, Frank, and Jeremy had jetted for the day. “Where are you off to now?”
The answer stuck in his throat. The cold, empty room and the cold, empty bed faced him—either that or he could go by his lonesome to grab dinner, watching as the life and energy swirled and ebbed around him while he was trapped behind glass.
“You’re always welcome to come grab coffee with me,” Parker offered, and James swallowed hard. The simple invitation meant so much. Except after the way he’d left things with Nolan the other night, he was too raw to step into a potentially uncomfortable situation.
“Thanks, but I’ve got to get apartment hunting.” He made the excuse. “Get settled in, now that the job’s locked.”
Parker nodded, tipped his fingers in a salute, and headed for the door.
Leaving James by himself.
James logged out of the computer and packed away his belongings, piece by piece, taking his time with them. Silence resounded in the office, mingled with the hum of the electronics left on, while others were shut off. Before he rose from his seat, his phone buzzed.
He pulled out the phone and answered the call. “Hi, this is James.”
“Hello, James? This is Frederick Medical Center.” A woman’s voice came over the speaker, and the name of the place shot a chill through him. “I’m calling about an overdue bill for Andrew Walker, your husband?”
“He died,” James managed, his voice rough, as if he gargled glass.
“Sorry about your loss,” the woman said, perfunctory as ever, “but since he was on your medical plan, the remainder of the bill is still due.”
Monsters. Fucking monsters. James’s throat tightened, and the ringing in his ears started.
His pulse spiked, and the room dizzied a little even though he hadn’t moved an inch.
The medical bills had been devastating, even with a great job, and these medical facilities kept finding him, kept sending more bills, as if he hadn’t bled enough already.
“I’ll set up a payment plan,” James said and hung up. Not here. He’d just started this job and couldn’t have another attack here.
He balled his hands into fists, his nails biting into his palms. The room swirled, the ringing hadn’t ceased, and he didn’t trust himself to speak or move.
The hours, countless hours in the hospital, the bleach white walls, the beep-beep-beep in the distance.
The promises of what life would be like when Andrew got home, what they’d do, even though the journey would be a tough one.
Hemochromatosis wasn’t a death sentence.
It shouldn’t have been.
Yet they’d been too late.
Too late in noticing the fatigue, that the joint pain and stiffness weren’t regular aches. And the slow decline over the past year had led to too much. The doctors had tried everything, but in the end, the heart was dilated, the body shutting down.
The terms swirled around in his brain over and over again, the medical jargon that had been part of his daily life for the past year. Then Andrew died.
And he was left navigating life without his partner.
A year later, the memories still froze him sometimes. A year later, the medical bills still piled up. A year later, he still hadn’t quite figured out how to move forward.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as his shaky breaths erupted, his hands balled into fists. Day one at his new job, and he was already unraveling. How could he keep it together?
James began the breathing exercises his therapist taught him, sitting in the empty office at his cubicle, hoping no one wandered by. He stared at the keys on the keyboard, scanning each one to seize his focus rather than everything that had shut him down in the first place.
Slowly, his fists unclenched. Slowly, the world stopped spinning. Slowly, he came back to himself.
James rose on shaky legs and grabbed his leather satchel.
The air-conditioning hummed, drying the sweat to paste on his skin.
He took one step after another as he crossed the room, steadying himself with each successive one.
Maybe he shouldn’t take phone calls at work, especially if they left him stepping on minefields.
He headed down the hall, hoping he didn’t look like a wreck, and kept his mask in place.
As he passed the HR office, he saw Nancy still sitting behind her desk.
She waved at him, and he waved back without stopping his stride.
As much as he could manage movement, he didn’t think he could swing small talk.
Not yet.
He caught the elevator and traveled down, the bing, bing, bing reverberating through his bones.
After the crash, his mind felt fuzzy, numb in a way he was fine with.
Better than freezing up in the elevator.
The problems the phone call would bring just added more to the stack.
He’d been paying the medical bills in installments, so another wouldn’t kill him but might impede his apartment hunt.
The elevator doors opened, and he stepped into the foyer and didn’t pause until he walked out the front into the cool early evening air.
Pedestrians raced along the sidewalks before him, other skyscrapers towering nearby.
The scent of asphalt, metal, and rubber mixed together, along with the slight salt of the breeze.
The first step to truly settling back here was finding a place. And lucky for him, he had a lead in that direction. James leaned against the building wall and tugged out his phone. He typed out the quick message to Meg and hit send.
Okay, I’m interested. Send me the information.