Chapter Three
Royce grunted as the inevitable pain and burn ran through his arm and shoulder. He was convinced physiotherapy was just another name for torture, and the perky Miss Girard was obviously a master at doling it out. If he had to pull on one more massive rubber band, his mind was going to snap. Royce knew he was a bit testy; he could never stand being injured. Especially now that he was unable to do what needed to be done to the assholes who were stalking Jesse. Instead, he had to take a backseat and allow Sentinels and police officers to take the lead, leaving Royce frustrated and essentially useless.
Those two emotions he knew all too well over the last three and half years since Daniel, his husband, had died in a car accident caused by an impaired driver. The world he knew had ended that day, the love and life in his world was gone. For quite a long time he’d believed there was no reason for him to exist. He’d survived the loss only by the strength of his family and friends.
“Mr. Evans, you’re not paying attention. I need two more reps before you’re done for the day.” Royce could hear the snap of her imaginary whip slicing through the air.
“Yes, ma’am.” Royce had a very strict upbringing and no matter the pain his therapist inflicted, Royce always treated her with respect.
Royce pulled the band, stretching it between his good arm and his injured one. Each move was excruciating and Royce wondered if he’d ever be able to use his arm properly again. Would he still be able to be a paramedic? He’d never once regretted taking a bullet in an effort to save Rick and his two-year-old nephew, Josh. He’d been able to call in reinforcements before passing out from the combination of blood loss and shock. The front of the bullet wound took only a few stitches to close up but the exit wound had mutilated the back of his shoulder. The doctors had spent hours trying to put everything back together. Muscle and skin had been torn apart when the bullet exited his body, but at least he was still alive.
“There you go, all done. You did great, Mr. Evans. We’ll get you back to your usual active self in no time,” she said, but Royce still had his doubts.
“Thank you, Miss Girard, but I honestly don’t see any improvement,” Royce admitted.
“But you have improved. When you first came in here, you could barely move your arm. Now you can stretch it out from your body by at least eleven inches and you’ve got the glare down perfectly,” Miss Girard continued to assure him.
“The glare?” Royce had a bad feeling that he hadn’t been able to hide his dislike of physiotherapy all that well.
“Yeah, the ‘I want to rip your throat out glare.’” She laughed as if it were nothing.
Royce knew he was turning red. This young lady was trying to help him and he repaid her with death glares. Great. “I’m sorry, Miss Girard, I—”
“Oh, don’t you dare apologize. At least you never swore at me, I get that a lot,” she explained as she stored all the various equipment back on the shelves.
Royce’s anger at having to do therapy turned into a whole lot of respect for the plucky little woman who always had a smile on her face. “It still doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry I took my anger out on you, even if it was through a look.”
“Well, I accept your apology and believe me when I say you are making progress with your arm.” Miss Girard smiled. “You’ll be back to work before you know it.”
“Thank you. I do appreciate your help, just not all the pain that comes with it,” Royce joked.
“Nobody does. I promise it will get easier. Now I have to go. More patients are waiting on me. Have a good day, Royce, say hello to Jesse for me.” Miss Girard smiled before leaving Royce to his own thoughts.
His need to get back to Jesse was irrepressible. One quick shower later and Royce would have been on his way to the diner if it weren’t for the flat tire on his car. Without having the ability to change it himself with his arm in a sling, he called his best friend Gabe to help him. Gabe and his fiancé Johnny showed up minutes later and were in the process of changing the flat for him.
“How are the plans for the wedding going, Johnny?” Royce asked. It always warmed his heart to see the couple finally getting their happy ending. Their lives had not been easy but they’d pushed through and found each other in the end.
Johnny brushed his curly blond hair out of his face before replying. “It’s going to be beautiful. We’re having a huge buffet reception at the community center and we left the invitation open to the whole town of Brighton. That way anyone can stop by and celebrate with us.”
“That sounds great, Johnny. It’s going to be quite the party.” Royce wasn’t surprised by their generosity and was thankful Brighton was only a small town or his friends would go broke doing that.
Gabe stood up and joined the conversation, looking a bit unsure. “You know you’re my best friend, Royce. Been for a hell of a lotta years. We’ve been through thick and thin both at work and in our personal lives. I was hoping you’d be my best man.”
Royce was shocked. Gabe’s family was so large he assumed that he’d pick a member of the Mason clan. Would he and Jesse ever get to the point of marriage? He hoped so. As for Gabe, he’d been his greatest strength after Daniel’s death. He’d kicked Royce’s butt more than once and brought him back from the edge more times than he could remember. “Yes. I would be honored, Gabe.”
Gabe slapped him on the back out of habit and Royce groaned in pain. Gabe grimaced and pulled his hand away. “Oh shit. I’m so sorry, Royce, I completely forgot about your arm.”
“It’s okay, but you know what they say about payback,” Royce joked between deep breaths. Gabe didn’t think he’d reinjured him but the jarring movement had been painful.
Johnny joined them but was looking a bit worried. “Um…Royce, I was going to ask Jesse to stand up with me. He saved my life by pushing me out of the way of that car. We’ve become friends since then. Do you think he’ll say yes?”
“I don’t see why not. You guys are close. Jesse considers you to be his good friend,” Royce said. The poor guy still had his moments of uncertainty, and Royce wanted to reassure him.
“Thank you, Royce.” Johnny looked relieved before he turned his attention back to Gabe, and Royce’s flat tire. I must have picked up a nail somewhere that deflated my tire while I was in having physio, I’ll get it fixed this afternoon.
“Royce, come look at this,” Gabe said, as he stood and stepped away from Royce’s car. “Your tire’s been slashed.”
Sure enough, the sidewall of the tire had a roughly two-inch-long gash. It had to have been on the bottom half of the tire when it deflated for the cut to have been hidden from him. No wonder Royce hadn’t seen it originally. He pulled out his cell phone and called Shadow. He didn’t want to worry Jesse at work.
“Hello.”
“Shadow, it’s Royce. My tire’s been slashed,” Royce said. “Is Jesse okay?”
“Yep, I can see him in the kitchen right now cooking up a storm. The diner’s really busy today,” Shadow confirmed, allowing Royce to breathe again.
“Keep a close eye on him. I don’t know if this is simply retaliation for having Jerry arrested or a way to keep me from Jesse.” Royce didn’t know which, but he would always make sure Jesse was safe.
“You got it,” Shadow said before hanging up.
“Something’s up. They’re becoming more open with their attacks,” Royce said to Gabe. “I just don’t know what they’re planning.”
“You need anything you just call, we’ll be there,” Gabe assured Royce. He knew in his gut this thing was coming to a head. He just hoped and prayed he was there to stop it from hurting Jesse.
*****
Jesse had been running around like a madman all day, trying to keep up with all the orders. The diner was becoming the new hotspot in town along with Lucky’s, the only bar in Brighton. Jesse might never admit it but he desperately wanted to dance with Royce at the bar. He still had a hard time being openly gay in public after having been punished into hiding it for so long. But bit by bit Royce was bringing Jesse’s true self to the surface every day. He could now kiss Royce out in public and hold hands without always looking over his shoulder for his family. He’d never been this happy in his entire life.
“Two more specials, Jesse,” Sarah ordered from the counter in front of the pass-through, then attached the order tickets to a metal railing above her head.
“Two specials, on it,” Jesse answered.
The interviews for another cook couldn’t have come fast enough. He’d already sat in on two interviews after the morning rush and had two more scheduled for after the lunch rush. So far, neither of the first two had the experience needed to jump in to a busy diner, and one even seemed a bit homophobic. Jesse hoped the afternoon interviews went better or he’d be working seven days a week indefinitely.
“Specials up, Sarah,” Jesse called out.
“Thank you, sweetie,” Sarah replied. “Oh and there’s a young man out here who says he has an interview with you.”
The guy was early, a good sign. “Thanks, Sarah, can you tell him I’ll just be a few minutes?” Jesse scanned the dining room. Shadow was still sitting in the back watching everyone and everything. A couple sat by the windows, and a few others were spread throughout the diner. No one new, except for the lone man in a side booth, which gave Jesse the time to step out of the kitchen. He took off his apron, washed his hands, and went in search of what he hoped was their new cook.
Jesse walked out into the front of the diner and waited until he saw Sarah walking toward him. It gave him time to observe the young man. He had hair as black as ink and tattoos covering his slim arms. From the information Bear provided, he knew the guy was twenty-six, and by the looks of him he’d missed quite a few meals. His clothes hung from his body, but his eyes were full of hope as he looked around the diner.
“So what do you think, Sarah?” he asked when she walked behind the counter.
“I think he needs to eat. Poor boy looks half starved,” Sarah said gruffly, a sure sign she was affected by the state of the young man.
“I agree. Hold on a moment.” Jesse walked back into the kitchen, grabbed the bread and roast beef, threw on a basket of fries and went to work. A few minutes later he had a hot roast beef sandwich covered in gravy with a mountain of fries on the side. “Sarah, order up.”
Sarah came to the window and gave him a knowing look. “And who might this be for?”
“You know darn well. I’ll pay for it after he leaves. Tell him that I’ve been tied up and that I won’t be able to see him for another fifteen minutes. That should give him enough time to get most of this into him. Tell him the meal’s on the house, my way of apologizing for my being late.”
Sarah’s look softened. “You’re a good man, Jesse Tribalt. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”
Jesse could feel his face heating up. “Just go and stop sweet-talking me.”
He watched as Sarah delivered the food to the obviously malnourished man. His eyes watered at the sight of the plate. Sarah said a few words and walked away with a smile on her face. Travis—this was the man’s name, which Jesse also had learned from the boss man—looked toward the back and smiled at Jesse in what he assumed was thanks. He then dug in like a man who hadn’t eaten in days, which by the looks of him was probably true.
“Good thing you did there. He looks like he’s starving.” Shadow spoke from across the room, causing Jesse to jump. At times, you never saw the man unless he wanted you to. It was amazing and annoying all at the same time.
“Will you stop sneaking up on me?” Jesse huffed and went on to clean the grill.
“Can’t, it sorta goes with the gig…‘Shadow,’ remember?” he said with a grin that probably had melted many a man’s heart, but Jesse was unaffected. He had his own man that made his heart beat.
“Then go and be a shadow in the front of the diner, not in the kitchen.”
“Touchy, touchy Mr. ‘I can’t take a compliment.’” Shadow laughed as he walked out the door. Shadow was right of course; he had no idea how to take a compliment from someone. He’d never had them lavished on him in his past life.
Jesse went back to stocking up for the supper rush while keeping an eye on Travis’s progress. He was about halfway through his meal when he suddenly stopped. He still looked longingly at the roast beef but didn’t touch it. Sarah walked to his table and they spoke quietly before she headed back toward the kitchen.
Sarah walked straight up to Jesse, her eyes looking troubled. “He asked for a takeout container. I know darn well he could finish that plate but I think he’s saving the other half as food for later or even tomorrow. Where does this poor boy come from? I’ve never seen him around town before.”
“Somewhere in Arkansas, and don’t you worry, I’ll bring him a big piece of pie when I interview him. Which should be about now before the next guy shows up.” Jesse had pretty much decided on helping Travis out. He just hoped the guy had some sort of cooking experience.
“Oh, the final interview called to cancel, so our boy Travis is it,” Sarah said, with a sweet smile. “You want me to start showing him around?” She knew what Jesse was about to do, but really, how could he not?
“At least let me go make like we really had an interview, okay?” Jesse laughed softly.
“Okay, I’ll wrap up his food.” Sarah grabbed a takeout box and left the kitchen in a much better mood then when she’d entered.
What have I gotten myself into?
With one quick pit stop to pick up two pieces of apple pie, he was off to either get himself a new cook or make one of the biggest mistakes of his short-lived management career.
Jesse approached the table and the moment Travis saw him, he stood. Travis was much shorter than Jesse, with shoulder-length black hair and light blue eyes. He’d definitely been missing his share of meals. They’d have to fix that.
“Hello, Mr. Boone, sorry to keep you waiting,” Jesse said.
“Call me Travis, Mr. Tribalt. It’s good to meet you,” Travis replied.
“Jesse, you can call me Jesse.” Jesse reached out and took Travis’s offered hand. His handshake was stronger than he had expected, his back was straight, and he looked Jesse right in the eyes. Whatever had happened to Travis hadn’t broken the man. Jesse liked him right from the start. “So how about we eat these pieces of pie and talk? I hope you don’t mind. I hate eating alone so I brought one for you.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” Travis sat but wouldn’t meet Jesse’s eyes. “I see what you’re doing.”
“Feeding you? Well hell, someone has to.” Jesse decided to be blunt and used the deep, “in command” voice he’d honed over the last ten years. “Now eat, and we’ll talk.” Travis immediately picked up his fork and dug in. Jesse didn’t like trying to be dominant because he was never comfortable in that position, but in this situation it was necessary.
“So, let’s discuss your experience. Where have you cooked before?” Jesse asked, hoping against all hope he’d hear at least one diner on the list, if there was even a list.
Travis wiped his mouth with his napkin and began naming diner after diner and a few full-blown high-end restaurants. “My last position was with Ray’s Roadhouse just outside Dallas,” Travis concluded.
Now Jesse’s curiosity was piqued. He wondered why Travis would leave so many of his previous positions. “I know Ray’s, their barbeque ribs are amazing. Can you tell me why you left your previous employers?” Jesse asked.
Travis looked away again before answering, “I didn’t fit in well.”
“Do you honestly think I’m going to leave it at that?” Jesse stated in the same no-nonsense voice. “Why didn’t you fit in?”
Travis looked ready to bolt but he sat with his back straight, the complete picture of strength even though his eyes were panicked. He took a deep breath and looked Jesse straight in the eyes. “I’m gay. The bible belt wasn’t too accepting of that or my tattoos.”
It was so anticlimactic that Jesse almost laughed. If it weren’t for the defiance in Travis’s eyes, he might have. Did he not know where he was? Had he thought he’d be turned away because he was gay? Yes, in reality the world could be a hard place.
“I—,” Jesse began, but was cut off.
“No, it’s okay, Mr. Tribalt. I understand.” Travis began to gather his takeout container and thin jacket.
“Perhaps you should wait for me to reject you before you assume I have.” Jesse used his normal voice, no longer needing to be stern now that he knew why Travis was on a run of bad luck and straight-out homophobia.
“I’m sorry, what did you wish to say?” Travis asked.
Just than the bell over the front door tinkled, announcing the entrance of a customer. Jesse turned his head and saw Royce, Gabe, and Johnny headed for a booth. Royce smiled at him the entire way and caused Jesse’s heart to speed up.
“You see those three men that just came walking in? The two holding hands are my good friends who are getting married in a few months, and the sexy redhead is mine.” At Travis’s stunned expression, Jesse continued, “Welcome to Brighton, Travis.”