“I’m okay, Officer Mason.” Jesse sighed. “Just tired.”
“Please. Call me Ellis. I’m not on duty, and I’m not an interrogator when I am,” Mason offered.
Mason took a sip of his caramel latte, his light pink tongue peeking out to catch the foam that clung to his upper lip. Jesse quickly dropped his gaze from Mason’s mouth, not wanting to get caught gawking. All Mason had offered was a meal; now Jesse was staring at him as if the man could be his dessert. Because there was nothing in that bakery that smelled more appetizing than Mason.
“Okay then. Ellis.” Jesse narrowed his eyes. “Did you seriously want to just check on me like you said? No one sent you to talk to me… no other cops?” No other big, scary, intense detectives?
Mason put down his last baguette and pinned Jesse with a hard look that made him feel like submitting. Oh hell. Jesse squirmed in his seat as Mason leaned in, closing most of the distance between them, and Jesse found himself gravitating toward the center as well.
“This is the second time you’ve asked me that. The first time I answered it was ‘no.’ Now I’m saying it again… and hopefully for the last time. No one sent me. I came to you because I was think—”
Jesse almost stopped breathing when Mason cut himself off. Was he about to confess he’d been thinking about him? Mason glanced around nervously, then cleared his throat. He took another drink as if was gathering himself, and Jesse wondered if Mason was second-guessing being around him, especially since he looked so… raggedy.
“I was thinking of the way you came and helped me after I fell the other week, so, y’know.” Mason sighed. “I thought I’d buy you a meal and say thanks. With the way things have been going around here, someone would’ve kicked me and taken my wallet rather than helped me up.”
Jesse snarled. “That I believe. This city is insane. Why the hell is everyone so mean and the police so suspicious?”
“It’s the drugs,” Mason answered quickly, staring out the tall windows at the bustling neighborhood. “It’s taking over… again.”
Jesse was quiet for so long that Mason snapped his head back to him. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No.”
“Jesse. I’m telling you the truth when I say that no other cops or anyone else sent me to talk to you. But… if you’re in trouble…” Mason leaned toward him as if he had an aura that could soothe if Jesse could just get close enough. “I can help you.”
Jesse was already shaking his head. If Mason truly wasn’t involved, he was going to keep it that way. And he didn’t want Mason tracking down that God and his narcotics super detectives, ruffling their feathers and possibly getting himself in trouble.
“Why are you shaking your head? I know you really have no reason to trust me but—”
“It’s not that, Ellis.” Jesse stared into Mason’s rich brown eyes. “I just don’t want you involved. My friend got himself in this mess, and he’ll have to get himself out of it.”
“Your friend.”
Jesse stared at Mason for a long moment before accepting that he could trust him and that he wasn’t lying about working on Worm’s case or for Lieutenant Godfrey. Once the waitress, who’d introduced herself as Erlene, had cleared their empty plates, she quickly brought over a plate of a half dozen hot glazed donuts and set them between them.
“They’re on the house. Enjoy.” She smiled, then stood there watching Mason as if she had more to say.
“Yes, Erlene?” Mason chuckled.
She blushed in the cutest way Jesse had ever seen, before asking politely, “So how’s Joshua doing today?”
“Clark is good, Erlene. Probably already camped out in front of his television for a long evening of ESPN highlights and Hungry Man frozen meals.”
She scoffed and waved her hand. “Ugh, that sounds dreadful.”
“Maybe you should call him and see if he’s up for a little something healthier?” Mason said casually, but Jesse could see he was playing matchmaker. “He’s been told to watch his salt intake, but… you know us men.”
“Oh no. High cholesterol can be deadly if not managed properly,” she said with her eyebrows raised almost to her silver hairline. “You really think he wouldn’t mind if I called?”
“Absolutely not,” Jesse and Mason said at the same time, then smiled—dare he say—flirtatiously at each other.
Erlene giggled, and Jesse fell a little more for her. If he’d had a grandmother—if she hadn’t abandoned her only daughter—Jesse would’ve wanted her to be just like Erlene. “You boys enjoy the donuts.”
Jesse waited until she was far enough away, then gave Mason an incredulous look. “Donuts… seriously?”
“Some stereotypes are hard to avoid,” Mason said, then moaned after taking a bite of the fried goodness. “Try one and you’ll see.”
Jesse didn’t hesitate to dig in. He didn’t moan loud and seductively like Mason… but he wanted to. They were delicious. And as they drank hot coffee and ate the best donuts made on the East Coast, Jesse confided all he could. It’d been a lot easier than he thought because Mason wasn’t difficult to talk to. He listened well and asked questions but not the prying, that’s-none-of-your-business kind.
“So no sooner did you get off the bus from North Carolina than your friend who you were supposed to be staying with was arrested.”
“Yeah. And all of our lives I’ve had to come to Worm’s rescue for one reason or another. I’m twenty-four years old, and being back in Felix’s world again feels like I’ve aged an entire lifetime.” Jesse took a deep breath and held it before releasing it slowly. He shook his head in shock. “I actually needed him, really needed my friend this time, and instead of being there, what does he do? He goes and gets himself in trouble. Leaving me out in the cold… literally.”
“And you don’t want to tell me any more about his crime or his name? I can ask a few department heads—”
“No, Ellis. Stay out of it. I’m not fixing it for Worm, and I’m not sending anyone to fix it. He didn’t do anything monstrous like murder or assault a person, but it was a crime. Maybe if he suffers a little, he’ll wise up and do better.” Jesse sat back in the booth, fighting exhaustion especially after eating so much. “I don’t know anyone else here, or where to go, or what’s a safe area and what’s not. If I was suddenly homeless in Baltimore or Winston-Salem, I would probably fare better than what I’m doing now.”
“If you could get the money to go back home… would you go?”
“That’s a clever way for you to ‘not ask’ why I left home,” Jesse said with a sly smile to show Mason he wasn’t upset about it.
Mason’s dark cheeks colored beneath his neatly trimmed stubble.
“It’s okay,” Jesse answered. “If I had the money, no. I’d go anywhere but back to my aunt’s. She wants to believe I’m a liar… but she knows that I’m not. That’s why she said it was best if I left. She trusts my word, always has… but what she doesn’t trust is her husband under the same roof as me.”