his side, Taylor saw the boyâs bloodied face and a slow burn of anger flared in his chest.
âWho did this?â He already guessed, but wanted to see if the boy would tell the truth.
âTwo big motherfuckers,â Blake wheezed. âLooked like Hells Angels.â
âEver see them here before?â
A pause. âNo.â
âDonât lie to me, kid,â he said in a low voice, tearing off a wad of toilet tissue. He helped Blake press it to his nose. âWhat did they want?â
âTo remind me what happens to police informants. Guess they didnât quite believe Iâm retired.â
âSo it wasnât a bashing?â
âNot really,â he said quietly. âThey werenât here to beat me up for being gay. That was just a bonus.â
Taylor wanted to crack both of their skulls. Over the past few months heâd become protective of Blake and worried about him plenty. Maybe it was because heâd never had kids of his own, but this one got to him. Blake reminded Taylor of himself at that age. Alone and vulnerable. Smaller than the average kid and a perfect target. He had nobody around who cared.
Until one day someone did. And made all the difference.
âCome on. Letâs get you washed off,â he said gruffly, hauling the boy to his feet. Blake was holding his side. âThey hurt your ribs?â
âI took a shot or two. But Iâm tougher than I look.â
Taylor almost smiled at the younger manâs fierce scowl, but refrained. As he helped Blake to the sink, the boy shook him off and insisted he could handle washing his own face. Taylor stood by, lost in thought, and jumped when someone pounded on the bathroom door.
âBlake? Honey, are you in there?â
âCara,â Blake said, groaning. âIâve already fucked up on my first night. Sheâll probably fire me.â
âNo, she wonât.â Crossing to the door, Taylor opened it and took in her surprised face. âBlake had a mishap. Heâll be right out.â
If he thought that was going to put her off, he was mistaken.
âGet out of my way,â she growled and marched right past him. âWhat happâ Oh, my God! Who did this?â
The boy turned and gave her a wan smile as he used wet paper towels to wipe the last of the blood from his swelling nose. âMy face ran into some dudeâs fist. Iâm good.â
âYou are not
good
. Not even a little bit.â She rounded on Taylor. âDid you do this? Because if you didââ
âWhoa there, boss lady,â Blake said, intervening. âTaylorâs cool. He came in after those big assholes left. The cop here always helps me, even when I donât want him to.â
As she glared at Taylor, he could see her working that out in her head. He also detected a faint look of disbelief, quickly masked, before she spoke.
âYouâre Tate!â
âSay what?â
âJess told me some detective had taken an interest in Blakeâs well-being, but he thought his name was Tate or something. But he meant
Taylor
,â she said almost to herself. She was staring at him in shock. âThatâs you.â
âUm, yeah . . .â He exchanged a puzzled look with Blake, who shrugged as if to say he had no idea, either, why she was so hung up on that fact. Almost amazed. âAm I missing something here?â
She recovered quickly. âNo. Iâm just surprised to meet the guy Blake speaks so highly ofâthatâs all.â
The young man blushed. Not meeting Taylorâs gaze, he tossed his paper towels in the trash. âWe need to get going or youâre gonna be late for your set.â
âThe band can wait. I think you should get to the hospital, get checked out,â she said, frowning in concern. âAnd you need to file a police report.â
âNo way. Iâm totally fine.â Blakeâs lips pressed
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