Page 89 of Conquest

Jesse drove away from the studio and continued his directionless quest. The skyscrapers loomed overhead, the lights glowing through the windows of the structures. A twinge of claustrophobia closed in on him. He felt as though he was being swallowed into a great cave. He looked up at the night sky peeking down between the mammoth buildings. Instead of the infinite space above calming him, the blackness increased his anxiety.

He looked down at his cell phone on the passenger seat. He had turned the volume off, but saw three missed calls; Brandon he figured, since it was a quarter past three in the morning. With a sigh, he headed back to Brandon’s.

When he got there, he unlocked the apartment door as quietly as possible and stepped in. The apartment was dark save for the TV, the soft light dancing over Brandon’s sleeping face. He had fallen asleep on the couch with his cell phone in hand. Jesse turned off the TV and pulled an afghan off the back of the couch to cover him.

“Where were you?” Brandon asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“I went for a drive, just like the note I left you said.”

Jesse turned down the hall to the second bedroom in Brandon’s apartment, which had become his bedroom, and stripped down to his boxers.

Brandon shuffled in, looking half asleep, and collapsed face down on Jesse’s bed. “You were dressed too nice to have just gone for a drive.”

Jesse crawled under the covers and lay on his back. “I went to Boystown.”

All semblance of sleepiness vanished from Brandon. He bolted half up on his elbows and snapped his head toward Jesse. “What!”

“Settle down. All I did was drive around. I didn’t even get out of my car.”

Brandon stared at him for a long moment. Jesse glanced at him and had to restrain himself from pushing Brandon off the bed at the pitying look he gave him.

Brandon turned his head away and lay back down. He was quiet for several minutes before mumbling, “You shouldn’t try to force it, Jess.”

Jesse flipped over, putting his back to Brandon, and gave the covers an irritated tug toward his side of the bed. “Why don’t you go to your own bed and get off the blankets, asshole.”

Jesse waited for him to respond and when Brandon didn’t so much as twitch, he sat up and craned his neck to look at him. Brandon’s back rose and fell in deep, relaxed breaths, his face peaceful with sleep. Jesse sighed and folded the comforter over to cover him. He laid back down, his eyes closing on their own.

Three hours later, he woke practically clinging to the edge of the mattress so he wouldn’t fall out as Brandon had taken over almost the entire full-size bed. He contemplated kicking him to get him to move, but decided even if he did gain a few more inches, he was too awake to go back to sleep. He sat up, glowering resentfully at his brother who slept in serene obliviousness.

He eased out of bed and went to his closet where he retrieved a Chicago Bears T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. He headed to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and got ready for a run. After leaving Brandon a note, he left the apartment, started some preliminary stretches in the elevator, and walked to his car while stretching his arms over his head and bending to the side. He drove down to Grant Park, finished stretching in the parking lot, then hit the trails.

He set a faster pace for himself than usual. With each stride, his head pounded Evan’s name. Why did he feel like he betrayed him? He hadn’t done anything, and even if he had picked up a guy, so what? Evan was the one who dumped him. It was time he moved on. So why did he feel guilty? Why had he felt during the drive to Boystown that he was making a mistake?

He had wanted to prove to himself he could do things like he used to, that he was the same person he was before Evan. But he wasn’t. It was all different now. He could never go back. He wished he could. He wanted more than anything to be able to flirt and hook-up without conscience, without regret.

He let out a hard breath as he ran. That wasn’t true. What he really wanted, more than each breath he took into his body, was to be held by the same man every night, to know his body, his voice, his movements, his thoughts, better than his own. He wanted Evan, and only Evan. The one person he couldn’t have, would never have again.

The realization hitting fresh made his stomach roil. His vision blackened for an instant, and he stumble hard. He tried to catch himself, knowing he couldn’t, and crashed to the sidewalk, skinning the heels of both hands and left elbow. He lay still, fighting back threatening tears. He drew his knees under himself and leaned his weight forward on his shaking arms, sweat dripping from his hair.

“Ev,” he whispered.

Something soft brushed against his right arm. He startled back, whipping his head in the direction of the touch. A puppy skittered away from him, looking at him with wary eyes. Jesse stared at it. He shook his head and sat back on his heels to inspect his injuries. He gazed down at his scraped hands, then out the corner of his eye, saw the puppy’s shadow inching closer to him. Cautiously, the dog stretched its neck out to sniff him.

Jesse slowly moved his right arm toward it, stopping a half-foot away. He remained motionless and was rewarded by a wet nose bumping over his hand and arm. He couldn’t help but smile when its bushy tail wagged. Then as if it had instantly decided it liked him, the puppy marched forward and stood staring at him with an expectant look.

Jesse laughed softly and reached to pet it. As soon as his hand touched it, it leaped onto his lap. Jesse laughed louder. He picked it up and held it out in front of him in both hands, looking at its tawny eyes. The dog was covered in dirt and grim, its coat a nest of mats and tangles. It had a white belly, legs, and chest, tan on its head and sides, black tipped ears, and a black saddle marking on its back. He guessed from the fluffy Collie coat but German Shepherd head it was a mixed breed. He determined it to be male, and it didn’t look much more than three months old. From its condition and the fact it wasn’t wearing a collar, he assumed it was a stray.

The puppy stared back at him with no fear, its tail wagged with greater rapidity.

“You’re pretty bold, aren’t you?” Jesse cradled him to his chest and stood up, heading back toward his car. “I’m not sure what to do with you, but if I leave you on your own, you probably won’t make it very long, so I guess I’ll take you to a shelter.”

He reached the F430 and stopped. He looked at the immaculate black leather seats, then down at the little dog that smelled like a garbage can.

“Well, I was planning on getting rid of this stupid thing, anyway.”

He climbed in and set the puppy on the passenger seat. He glanced over at it as he pulled out of the parking lot, watching drool drip on the leather seat while it panted, and tried not to cringe, thinking to himself a couple more times, it didn’t matter, he was getting rid of the car. He turned his eyes to the road.

“Now I just need to figure out where there’s an animal shelter.”