Page 44 of Running Feral

“We’re going to open soon. You should probably head upstairs.”

A little of the mirth drains from Tobias’s face when I say the words, but not all of it. He nods, resigned, and we hold each other’s gaze for a beat too long. I want to go over there and do something. Touch him. Anything to remind him that this is only temporary. But I’m not sure if we’re doing that in front of other people, yet. Even if Kasia already sniffed out the truth of our situation like a bloodhound.

“Yeah.” Tobias shifts his weight for a second, his gaze running up and down my body in a way that makes a curl of arousal takeroot in my gut. I try to ignore it, but it’s undeniable. A flash of memory bursts into my brain—Tobias riding me, jerking both of us off, finally relaxed as he lost himself in his own pleasure this morning.

I hope it’s the last thing I picture before I die.

“Have a good shift,” Tobias says before he turns and heads for the apartment.

The awkwardness in the room is palpable. I can’t tell if that was my fault or just an awkward situation, but it was bad. When I look at Kasia, the thought is confirmed. She’s making an over-the-topyikesface at me, amusing herself, I’m sure.

“That wasn’t great, right?” I ask.

“I know I just said I was going to stop giving you advice, but no. That wasn’t great. You should probably figure out what the fuck you two are doing before you interact in public again, or the rest of the world is going to be so uncomfortable all our genitals will collectively shrivel up and run away.”

“And I’m the dramatic one.” Although she may have a point. Whatever.

We have to open the doors, and I can already see some of our more devoted afternoon lushes filtering into the parking lot. All of this is a problem for me to address after. If I keep letting Tobias pull me away from my fledgling business, it’ll go under. Then we’ll both need a new place to live.

All night, I can’t concentrate. My thoughts flit back and forth between Tobias upstairs, the possibility of Eamon showing up, and why I still don’t have some kind of master plan yet.

Every time the bar door opens, I jump a little. My adrenaline pumps, ready for a confrontation with him, and every time it’s just another customer. I’m beginning to see why Tobias looks so drained, just from being on edge all the time. I understood that before, of course. But there’s a difference between being cognitively aware of how someone feels and getting a taste of the experience for yourself.

The night is slow, thankfully. I avoid conversation wherever possible, which earns me a few looks because I’m normally on the chatty side. I’m too busy counting down the minutes until I can finally go upstairs, though.

It’s the final stretch. Everyone is on their last drink, and in a few minutes, I’m going to kick these remaining stragglers out and lock the doors. Then someone walks in. Not Eamon, but someone that also doesn’t look like they’re coming with good news.

Tristan. I don’t know Tristan particularly well. I know he works shift work on an ambulance, partly because he’s shown up here for a couple of the minor bar fights and incidents we’ve had since opening, and partly because he sometimes shows up to day drink when he’s not working but his internal clock is still all jacked up.

Although that was before he settled down. I try to avoid gossip, but it’s physically impossible as a bartender. So, the fact that a hot, eligible guy like Tristan hooked up with the town pariah—also a man—when no one knew either of them was even queer, has been buzzing through here ever since.

All I know for sure is that I see him less, and I hope that means he’s happy. Or at least busy. He still comes in here to drink withhis friends sometimes, but now is not one of those times, judging by the grim set of his face.

“What’s up? We’re about to close.”

I don’t bother to beat around the bush.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here.” Tristan finishes his walk to the bar, leans on the dark polished wood, and lets out a deep sigh. “Can I talk to you in private? I can wait until everyone leaves, if you need.”

The furrow between my eyebrows deepens. I catch Kasia watching us from a few feet away and toss my head in the direction of the back, while she nods. It’s quiet. She can finish up here. It’s not like I’m going to be able to concentrate with Tristan’s doom and gloom saturating me.

Tristan trails me as I lead him to the kitchen. It’s small, but far enough away from the bar that no one will overhear us if we’re quiet. He takes in his surroundings briefly, adjusts his position so he has one eye on me and one on the only entrance, then leans in.

“Whatever you say stays between us. I know just enough to be able to grasp the shape of the situation, but none of the details. But I thought about it and thought about it, and there’s nowhere else to look that I haven’t tried already. So, off the record—do you know where Tobias is?”

I freeze. I should have realized some people would be able to make an educated guess he might come to me. As far as I can tell, he doesn’t have any friends. It’s a rural area with barely a cluster of very small towns to begin with. He can’t go to any of the Banna guys. His family lives out of state, and the only thing he does apart from work and take care of his grandmother is drink at my bar.

“Why?” I ask.

Tristan huffs, but nods. “I get it, but I promise I’m not a spy. I’d rather lose a testicle than turn him over to Eamon. Who hasnot been quiet about the fact that he’s looking for him, if you were wondering. He’s saying all sorts of crazy shit, probably in the hope that something will shake loose. But I need to find him. I just took Anika—his grandmother—back to the hospital, and she’s not looking well, man. I know how close they are. If he doesn’t go see her and the worst happens, I think it could be something he won’t recover from.”

My entire body sags, and I take a few seconds to scrub a hand over my face. Exhaustion is already setting into my bones at the thought of dealing with the overwhelming number of ways to potentially deal with this situation.

Tristan is right, though. I still don’t know that much about Tobias, but it’s clear how much he cares about his grandmother.

Screw it.

“Yeah, okay. Follow me.”

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