Bloodlines by Alex Kidwell Page A

clearly not happy with the idea, but not protesting in horror anymore. “I just don’t like the thought of you in a stupid collar,” he muttered.
    Jed’s smile faltered.
    The cage. The goddamn basement . And here Jed was throwing that shit around like Redford wasn’t still that scared kid, tied up and thrown away by the one person who was supposed to take care of him.
    His whole face crumpling in guilt, Jed wondered if he could beat his head against the wall. Probably would be rude to do that to someone else’s walls, and God knew his thick skull would break something. Goddamn, he was so stupid it was a wonder he kept breathing without hurting himself somehow. Immediately, Jed gathered Redford into his arms, kissing his shoulder in penance. “It’s not going to be like that,” he murmured. “No collar. No leash. Not if you don’t want it, not for either of us. I’ll just go and let you do the talking.” Jed tried for a little smile, not quite making it. “I can be real quiet. Subtle, even. Like a mouse.”
    That, at least, made Redford smile. “No, you really can’t.”
    “I wasn’t aware mice used such copious amounts of explosives,” Victor hummed, peering over the tops of his glasses. “How unusual.”
    “Fuck you all,” Jed responded, but more cheerfully, only really caring that he’d pulled a smile from Redford. Turning to the Lewises, he nodded. “We’ll get the info and then give you a call.” Jed hesitated, glancing over at Redford. “And….” Fuck. Being second in command after all this time alone was not the easiest thing in the world. Popping up out of his chair, Jed bustled about, clearing dishes. “Redford, why don’t you talk details or whatever you need. It’s your job. I’m just here as a silent and extremely good-looking shadow.”
    Jed made his way into the kitchen after loading himself up with bowls and cups and spoons. He poked around a little, once he’d filled up the dishwasher. The fridge was decently stocked, as was the pantry. Nothing fancy, lots of meat, most of it looking like the butchered pieces of things they’d caught. Jed wanted to give Redford some space, the chance to do things his own way. The guy was more than capable of handling everything, really. Jed just wanted to give him a chance to realize that.
    Redford and the Lewises got down to talking, the sounds of the conversation washing over Jed as he looked around the kitchen. A few minutes later, Redford sidled up to him. “Jed,” he whispered urgently, “How much is gas right now? I need to know for the budget.”
    After a moment, Jed huffed out a little laugh, taking Redford by the shoulders and tugging him in, kissing his forehead, the bridge of his nose. “Nervous?” he murmured, ignoring the question for a moment in favor of massaging the tense knots he could feel in Redford’s neck.
    “Very,” Redford admitted. “I don’t know how you do this. There’s so much to think about, and I can’t keep any of it straight in my head.”
    “Sure you can,” Jed responded. He kissed said head again before wrapping his arms around Redford. They fit together so goddamn well. It still amazed Jed sometimes. “Remember the Southfield job two weeks ago? Instead of just charging gas money, you charged mileage. That way it paid for the wear and tear on the vehicles too.” Although Jed’s version of wear and tear was slightly different than other people’s. Removing some stains from upholstery was apparently more expensive than just ripping the seats out and starting over. “Just use that amount and charge them per mile.”
    He pulled back just enough to study Redford’s face, fingertips brushing along the man’s cheek. “You can do this,” he repeated, absolute conviction in his voice. “You’re brilliant, and you’re damn good at the planning part of things. Just take a deep breath and do what you do best.” He smiled at Redford, and he could feel the expression mostly in the corners of his