Page 16 of Love Heals
Chapter Seven
Jared pushed his body. Exercise was the one thing that had never failed in helping him clear his mind of useless worries and thoughts. Useless thoughts like the images of Silas's perfect body that kept flashing through his mind. Perfect lips, perfect body, perfect fucking everything.
Ten more push-ups, Jared told himself, even though the muscles in his arms were straining already. Exhaustion was good. The burn would distract him from things that didn't matter.
Things like the fact that he was abnormally obsessed with the young man in their spare bedroom. Never mind the fact that he was supposed to be straight.
But straight men didn't keep thinking about other men's bodies, did they?
When had he first noticed Silas's body?
Five, four, three more push-ups. C'mon, Jared, stop thinking about this shit.
It was hard to, though. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't forget how irrationally he'd behaved.
What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he stop himself from trying to kiss Silas?
Focus, Jared.
It was no use. Whenever his exercise left him with a moment to breathe, his mind spiraled right back to that moment.
What was it about Silas that made him so different from other men?
Whatever it was, Jared's body had taken notice of it the moment they'd met. All those years ago. Before Silas had become Silas. Back when his name had been Michael. He hadn't looked too different then. His skin hadn't been as pale, but other than that, he hadn't changed much. Sometimes Jared fooled himself into thinking that Silas’s eyes were different now, less alive somehow, but then, the vampire would glare at him the exact same way Michael had glared at him a thousand times when he wasn’t getting his way. His spirit was still in there somewhere. Muted, but miraculously unbroken.
Aldrich was wrong. There was still hope.
After finishing his last push-up, Jared stopped and rested for a moment, his eyes staring at the wooden floor beneath him without really seeing it.
Maybe it had been this spark in Michael's eyes that had initially attracted him to the man. Not his body or even the objective fact that he was beautiful. His eyes. His attitude. His absolute unwillingness to let life beat him down.
Getting up to his feet, Jared walked over to his desk. He hadn't brought much from his apartment to the safe house, but two days ago, he'd swung by his office to get an old folder he'd kept back when he'd been working with Michael and his gang of homeless youth. Or, at the very least, he'd beentryingto work with them, anyway. He'd been under no illusion that he'd always be met with gratitude as a social worker, but Michael and his friends had taken their dislike of authority—or perceived authority—to a whole new level. However he’d tried to help, they’d blocked him at any turn. Even when he'd offered help finding jobs and safer accommodations, they'd resisted. Jared couldn't exactly blame them. They didn't trust him, and why would they? They’d had no reason to. If the adults in their lives had been trustworthy so far, they wouldn't have ended up on the streets in the first place.
The only help they did accept was material goods. Things they could turn over in their hands and inspect and deem useful. Jared couldn't shower them with money, even if he'd had the means, but he made sure that they always had proper clothes and blankets to keep them warm when the colder season started.
It took a long time, but gradually, the kids got used to him.
Michael had been among the youngest of them, barely a day over eighteen when Jared had first run into the group, yet somehow, within a year, he managed to work his way up into a sort of leadership position within the street family's social hierarchy.
Sometimes Jared told himself that this was the reason he wanted Michael's approval—because the other kids would listen to him. Deep down, he knew that wasn't true. Even deeper down, he knew one of the reasons Michael was so well respected was that he brought in a lot of money, because he never took a day off.
Jared didn’t like to think about the work Michael or any of the other kids did to pay for food or drugs. He wished he could have gotten them all of out of that life.
He especially wished that picturing Michael naked wouldn't get him hard.
What sort of person looked at street kid like that? Especially knowing what he did to survive.
Perusing these old documents now, studying the pictures of the youths, Jared swallowed down a lump in his throat. He'd been so ashamed of himself back then, but he'd neveractedon his desires. He'd known better than to do that. He should have known better today as well.
A knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts.
"Who is it?" he asked, closing the folder and turning away from the desk.
"Talon."
"Come in."
The door opened and the vampire stepped inside. Jared gave him a curious look. The vampire had never visited him in his room before. Jared was cordial with Talon, because they were family, but the vampire could probably sense that Jared wasn’t celebrating the fact.
