Chapter 2 #2
I very well can't say,”Yeah, I really won't let them hurt you without killing them because I'm a wolf and you're my mate.” He'll think I'm loony.
Jared sat clutching the sheet to his chest, eyeing the man who'd just made a declaration that sounded an awful lot like the guy thought he had some kind of claim in him.
Not just 'some guy', he reminded himself. His name is Steve, and he seems to be utterly sincere. What am I, some damsel in distress to him? He my white knight riding in on a steed?
Jared snorted softly. Somehow he felt even more exposed than before. He realized how misleading his action was the moment he saw Steve's shoulders slump as he broke eye contact.
“Not disbelieving your sincerity, just feel kind of stupid. I must seem weak and in need of rescuing. Well, I did need need rescuing, so I guess-” he babbled.
“It was two against one and they were both bigger than you,” Steve pointed out. “But we do need to talk. Your clothes will be dry in a few minutes, how about you put them on and I'll help you come sit on the sofa. We can have a chat then.”
“Sure, okay.” I guess he wants to know all the gory details of how I came to be in that alley with those two goons and what they did. I don't want to talk about it, but I owe him that much, I guess.
Steve got up and walked to the door, pausing with one hand gripping the handle. He looked over his shoulder. “I'll just go see if your clothes are ready then.”
Jared watched him leave. Not wishing to think about the events leading to him being there, he distracted himself by looking around the room, curious about what it would reveal about Steve's personality.
He admired the large glass windows and noted they seemed to be tinted to block out glare from the sun.
No curtains or blinds. Either he's also an exhibitionist or they are the sort you can see out of and not in through.
I hope it's the latter. I'm not really into flashing the universe.Love the dark wood of the window frame and sill though, very classy.
Matches the wood the dresser is made of, I see.
That's a very modern piece but the wood makes it feel warm.
I like it. The floor is also wood, but a richer color.
The dark green floor runners by the sides of the bed match the comforter too, and the upholstery of the chair in the corner.
What's that shade of green called? Oh, yes, hunter green.
Or is it holly green? Geesh, I should know this, huh?
I guess I fail that part of the gay man stereotype test.
He was still ruminating when he heard a soft knock, followed by a head popping around a barely opened door.
“It's just me. I'm Steve's mom, Alice.”
Wow. Either she's a stepmom, got really good genes, owns tons of anti-aging creams that actually work, or ...oh, it'd be polite to answer her, wouldn't it?
“Hi.” He gave a small wave, careful to not drop the sheet he'd been clinging to all this time.
“I just brought your clothes from the dryer. I washed them twice with a double rinse, so they should be really clean and there shouldn't be any detergent residue to bother your skin. I did use a Downy sheet in the dryer though. Hope that's okay.”
Jared smiled at the petite woman. “That's great, thanks.”
She entered the room and placed the clothes on the chair.
“I'll just leave those here then. Steve is putting a tray together for you so you can eat while you have your chat.
He'll be in a few minutes to get you settled. The shirt was a goner though, holes were some of the buttons tore off, so I found you a T shirt that should fit.”
Despite her choice of words, the small woman seemed anything but obsequious. Jared appreciated her polite manner and admired her for being so forthright. He had an inkling that behind the facade of a small, innocuous, youthful looking Asian woman lay a will of iron as well as a caring heart.
She left him to get dressed, which he did as quickly as possible. That wasn't as fast as he would have liked, he found, as he ached in places he hadn't fathomed. “Must have gotten more hurt than I thought,” he mused to himself as he winced while pulling the T shirt on over his head.
Damn, my shoulders hurt when I move like that.
He'd just buttoned his jeans when a more authoritative knock sounded, accompanied by the door opening and Steve walking right on in.
“I see you managed all right. Let's get you settled on the couch and some lunch in you.”
He moved as if to offer assistance. Jared waved him off.
“I'm fine, I can walk there on my own power, thanks.”
Sheesh. This guy really takes the whole rescuing me thing rather far.Wait, who are these people? There's Alice and five guys and some other lady all in here.
He shrank back, wanting to return to the sanctuary of the bedroom. He felt a reassuring hand on the small of his back.
“It's okay. It's just my mom, my dad, the guys who helped me bring you here, and a couple of my brothers,” Steve said softly.
Still feeling unnerved, Jared limped over to the sofa as prodded. The coffee table in front of his space held a tray with what appeared to be a glass of orange juice and a sandwich, a cut up apple, and some potato chips on plate upon it, as well as a neatly folded cloth napkin.
That's a bit fancy. Never seen one of those inside a person's house, Jared thought idly, regarding the napkin.
“Now, you boys let him eat first before you start nattering,” Alice chided the group as she gestured for Jared to help himself to the food.
He did so, feeling self conscious as all eyes observed him.
What a strange bunch. Nice, but decidedly odd.
He hadn't thought he'd be able to eat much with everyone staring at him but soon found he was hungrier than he'd thought. The food disappeared within minutes.
“Please excuse my manners,” he said as he swallowed down the last bite. “I shouldn't have wolfed my food down quite so fast.”
Okay, what I said wasn't that funny, he thought as they all exchanged glances and smiled, chuckling. Jared sat up straighter and cleared his throat.
“So, um, you wanted to talk to me about what happened last night, right?”
The mood instantly sobered. One of the men spoke. “I'm Alan Chang, Steve's father.”
Of course you are. And you happen to have the very same youthful appearance as your wife, neither of you looking a day over thirty. Talk about good genes.
The man continued. “You've met my wife, Alice,” he indicated her with a tip of his head and she smiled in acknowledgement, “And this big guy here on my left is my son, Mark. Next to him, sitting in the chair, is my other son, Dale.” Dale gave a nod in greeting.
“You've met Steve. The other two fellows are his friends Tim and Jeff.” Both men raised a hand and waggled fingers hello.
“And this capable young woman is my secretary, Bethany.”
His secretary? Why is his secretary here?
“Now, can you please tell us, from the beginning, just how you came to be in that alley and who those guys were?”