Chapter Two
A month in bed had healed some things, but not enough to set him free from the boredom.
He had several new scars. That added a crankiness to the situation he couldn’t seem to shake.
Crisp turned the page of his book. Jay’s eye twitched.
Four weeks and they barely spoke. Crisp just quietly fed him and bathed him.
He kept Jay alive and helped in any way he could.
It was fucking irritating. They had been raised in the same spy program.
Neither of them had been taught to care about anyone.
In fact, it had been drilled into them that compassion was weakness.
Relationships were pathways to exploitation.
Emotions got people dead. End of story. It really pissed him the fuck off that Crisp acted the way he did.
Jay didn’t like the way this made him feel.
Worse than that, he knew Crisp didn’t try to hold a conversation with him because Jay had made it abundantly clear there would be no attachments here.
He would repay this favor one day, but this time together meant nothing.
But holy shit did it make him crazy how Crisp could peacefully lose himself in a book and ignore him.
He sighed heavily since Crisp obviously hadn’t heard him the last four times he had done so.
Jay wanted to growl when Crisp’s sparkling green eyes continued to move back and forth across the pages in front of him, completely unbothered. His stomach growled.
Crisp immediately looked up. He glanced toward the clock and set his book aside. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. Are you ready for dinner?”
If that meant Crisp would focus on him for a minute, then yes. “I could eat.”
The sound of bones popping was the only sound that broke the silence as Crisp stood.
Even that bothered Jay. “You sit around too much. Your bones are weakening by the second. Is there no gym in this place? No street to jog? You’re dumb to not stay sharp.”
Crisp laughed. “You’re funny.”
Jay rolled his eyes. What was Crisp’s deal? “It’s sad. You have no sense of self-preservation. There are agents all over this country. They have—no doubt—seen your face. They know you and your brothers’ names. What if this Bosi person cuts ties with you? You’ll have no protection and flabby arms.”
Crisp never stopped smiling through his entire spiel. He was just perfect straight teeth, flawlessly styled blond hair, and fresh faced. Weak, but beautiful. It hit Jay. Crisp had likely been on track for a position that used his beauty as a weapon. Maybe even the same path as Jay.
Jay narrowed his eyes. His vision was still extremely bad, but Crisp stood close enough for Jay to make out his details. “What job were you meant to have?”
Crisp sat on the bed at his hip, as if settling in for a chat. Jay didn’t know why that simultaneously enraged him and took a weight from his chest. “My areas of study were science mixed with medicine and chemistry. Trained to leave no trace behind, but I was also highly trained in acting.”
That was what it was. Crisp had been set to infiltrate the upper crust using fame. No doubt there were a few blackmailed industry professionals set to cast him in any role before he had escaped. Jay had been right. Crisp had been meant to use his appearance against others.
“What about you? Is Jay the call name you were given? What were you doing in the world for our country?” Crisp said our country with heavy sarcasm.
No, Jay wouldn’t talk about that. He hardened his expression. “This isn’t a two-way conversation. I’m trying to discern why you believe it’s okay to be weak.”
Crisp rolled his eyes and stood. “Let me drag my flabby body to the main kitchen to steal some of tonight’s dinner.
You know the drill. Don’t get out of that bed.
If you’re seen on this property, you’re dead.
Just chill out. Maybe find something to listen to on TV since you can’t see it.
I’ll be back before you have time to miss me. ”
Jay snorted. Unfortunately, the moment he was alone, Jay felt isolated.
He could hobble around the room a little.
Jay definitely felt like pacing. He didn’t have his strength back yet, so that option was out.
Giving in to restlessness, Jay tapped what fingers he had left on his right hand.
He tried not to look too closely at himself.
It didn’t matter that he now looked the way he did on the inside, on the outside too.
What did looks matter? Such a useless commodity.
Unfortunately, not for him, though. An image of Crisp hovering over him, coming to his rescue, flashed through his mind.
Those soft, concerned eyes and full lips.
Damn. His dick stirred. No one could have been more surprised than he was.
Plus, it wasn’t necessarily a good sensation.
There were so many places that hadn’t healed.
One wild thought led to the next. The reflection he caught quick glimpses of in the mirror now had no business thinking of Crisp in any way whatsoever.
If this were a different life and they were different people, then maybe…
no. That line of thinking was ridiculous.
Crisp took care of him for reasons totally his own.
Someone beautiful like him wouldn’t even glance Jay’s way on the street now.
Even before Jay had turned out looking like Frankenstein, and with all his skill, he likely still hadn’t stood a chance.
Jay had never been ugly. He lacked a kindness Crisp deserved.
In that sense, there were still varying leagues, and Crisp was a universe out of his reach.
Jay growled and ran his fingers through his hair. He winced at the still-sensitive nub of his finger. His thoughts were dumb today. He had to stop. Maybe he needed food more than he realized. The hunger made him weak-minded.
Crisp reappeared in the doorway. He had two water bottles tucked between the crook of his arm and torso, allowing him to carry two plates. The way his stomach kept growling said a lot, and none of his thoughts had a damn thing to do with the delicious scent of food filling the room.
“Chef Fabrice made chicken piccata. Wait ‘til you taste it. So fucking good.”
Jay could admit he had eaten nothing but five-star meals since landing in Crisp’s bed.
His mind screeched to a halt. Even as he accepted the plate handed to him, Jay looked around, studying the room.
He had been on a few slow walks around Crisp’s apartment or room or whatever the hell this was supposed to be.
As far as he had seen, Crisp only had one bed.
Where had Crisp been sleeping? He always closed the door between them when Jay slept.
Did he have a man? A woman? Why had he insisted on not getting to know Crisp?
It felt like a rock dropped in his stomach.
His breaths quickened. Did Crisp leave and go to someone else?
Crisp stroked his hand down Jay’s arm, pulling him from the thoughts he drowned in. “Are you okay? I can get you something different to eat.”
Jay sucked in an audibly shaky breath, making the situation worse. He had to stop whatever this was. “No. I don’t know what happened.”
An understanding smile touched Crisp’s lips.
“It’s okay. I get it. While I understand why you don’t want to talk to me, I came from the same place you did.
The first year after our escape, I had no clue what life would look like for us.
There was little doubt we’d be hunted. We had no money and no hope, honestly.
It was a nightmare. I didn’t understand anything about the real world.
Even through all the horrible things I’d seen and done, everything still felt too loud and overwhelming.
There was never a moment any of us felt like we could rest. It’ll take time for you too, but I didn’t have anyone who had been in my shoes to help me.
You do. If you decide you want to do anything more than huff all day, just say the word. ”
So Crisp hadn’t been so engrossed in his books as not to hear Jay’s sighing.
He didn’t know how to feel about that. Rather than trying to figure it out, he tried the chicken instead.
It was good, but no more or less than anything Crisp had fed him.
He hadn’t concerned himself with the flavor of food before Crisp.
When he got hungry, he ate whatever was convenient.
Meals weren’t something to be enjoyed. Jay didn’t look too closely at that.
Instead, he put his fork down and picked up Crisp’s book.
He had to bring the pages embarrassingly close to his face to make out the small print.
It didn’t take him long to figure out the gist of what he saw.
“Oh.” He set the book back on the nightstand. “It’s smut. Odd choice.”
Crisp huffed. “It’s a mystery that just happens to include romance. Romance isn’t smut.”
It took Jay a moment to realize his comment had genuinely upset Crisp. Now he felt something else unfamiliar that he didn’t want: guilt.
Even to Crisp’s ears, his response had sounded childish, but damn. He should be allowed to enjoy things. God knew there was no romance in his life. The least this existence could do for him was let him get lost in a fictional world where things didn’t feel the way they did here.
“Is the story good?”