His voice carried to me from the meeting room, and I hurried to get to him but paused at Hallie's whisper.
"You aren't tied up today."
I frowned and quickly continued forward.
"No, I…um…I'm a klepto. Knox does that to save me from myself."
I didn't enjoy hearing Jazz lie, even if I understood the reason. Hallie's intervention had only highlighted my own shame. I'd tied him up, took away the use of his hands, and left him that way for days. He should have run when I gave him the chance—bolted out the crumbling front door.
But he'd stayed. He'd offered himself to me. Giving Jazz the chance to go the first time had been difficult enough; my alpha nature wouldn't allow me to again.
"You certainly have a lot of pictures together," Hallie said absently. "Lots of happy memories. You went to Italy?"
Pictures? Italy?
I growled, rounding the corner finally as Jazz yanked something off the table. "Enough of that. Let's eat," he chirped hastily.
Jazz kept his head down, but the tips of his ears were pink. He'd been using his ability to cement our story with Hallie and relieve her suspicion. Jazz was resourceful, but, like the lie, I didn't like witnessing him fool Hallie. These were the same skills he'd use to run away.
But he isn't your prisoner.
Semantics.
I didn't want to force him to stay, but I absolutely wanted him to stay.
"He isn't a klepto." I wasn't going to defend my actions to her, but I wouldn't let her go on believing something negative about Jazz—even if he'd been the one to put the thought there.
The two dishes sat on a towel on the table. We had a few dishes, but not enough for four people to eat at the same time. "I'll go get the plates. We have to use paper ones until I can get to the store."
I expected that admission to earn me another of Hallie's suspicious stares, but she just shrugged. "I hope you have a spatula, or else one of you is going to have to use your hand."
When I returned from the kitchen, Faust sat across from Hallie and Jazz, and Dog sat next to the door with his back to the wall, his eyes on Hallie.
"Real sweet dog you have," Hallie said with a head tilt. "I especially enjoy the way he stares deep into your soul whether you want him to or not."
Jazz laughed, the sound melodic and light. "He's a good judge of character, but not a very fast one."
After Faust's third portion of lasagna, I cut him off, wanting to save the rest for the others. I could be irritated with them without wanting them to starve. Diesel got even crankier when he was hungry.
Even Dog perked his ear up when Hallie uncovered the cinnamon rolls. "The frosting has melted a bit because of the lasagna. Should've thought of that." She'd been looking down at the tray while she spoke and looked up to four hungry stares. "Or, yeah, have at it."
Jazz attacked the sweet rolls with as much ferocity as Faust, and I made a note of his sweet tooth. He'd kept up an easy conversation with Hallie while we ate. She'd been born in Rockshell and had never left. Married her senior year in high school. I assumed there had been a child involved in that decision, but she hadn't mentioned a child yet. She had been divorced for several years, and judging by the way her hands had clenched when she spoke of him, it had been a bitter divorce.
By the end of lunch, there'd been no lingering silences, and we'd offered no additional information about ourselves, fabricated or otherwise—thanks to Jazz. She told us to keep the leftovers but that she was taking the dishes, so Faust ran them back to the kitchen to wash them for her.
"So I'll see you guys next week? Friday?"
I looked to Jazz. They'd gone inside and had been alone for a few minutes, but it hadn't been long enough for a repeat invitation.
"To teach you how to cook the lasagna, Jazz? You mentioned you wanted to learn how to cook."
He had, but I'd taken it to be more small talk than a statement of intent. When Jazz's face lit up at her suggestion, I realized I had a lot to learn about the man. "That could be fun." Jazz's eyes darted to me. "I mean, if I—we're still here next Friday?"
I didn't think he was being coy, but questioning whether what we had now would still be in a week. As if I would tire of him. Or him of me.
I couldn't say if one would happen, but I could assure him of the other. "We'll be here."
"O-kay." Hallie's eyes darted between us. "That felt a little more dramatic than the questioned warranted, but cool. I'll call you with the ingredient list. I'm too poor to be buying extra dinners in the week. Especially for a house of hungry men."
She started her car, the engine running noticeably smoother down the driveway than it had when she'd arrived.
I suspected Faust had been unable to resist the call of an engine in need.
"Thank you, Knox. That was really fun."
I gathered his hand in mine. "She's a good cook. And funny."
"Wow, I think in Knox-speak that means you love her." Jazz laughed.
I didn't want to say anything that would knock that smile off his handsome face, but we clearly needed to have a talk. "What was that about if you'll be here next week? Were you planning on moving along?" Try as I did to keep my question monotone, a growl slipped out at the end.
His eyes rounded briefly. "I just—I didn't—I wouldn't assume you would—"
I brought Jazz into the sitting room, tugging him to sit by my side on the sofa that faced the window to the forest. "You aren't exactly hard to keep. You eat in a day what Diesel does in a meal, and you're pretty good at entertaining yourself. Why would I mind if you stayed?"
"You guys seem to have this whole revenge thing going, and I want to help, but you haven't seemed that open about it with me, so I assumed at some point, you'd just…" He shrugged.
I wanted to pull him into my lap and tell him he would never be leaving, but I wouldn't keep him here by force—anymore. This needed to be his choice. "It's been the five of us for so long, our days are normally silent." None of us had anything to say to each other that wasn't related to the attack. "I will attempt to speak more."
Jazz stood, his shaky movements betraying his casual tone. "Okay, okay, no need to get mushy on me. I have a favor to ask anyway."
I waited for him to find the words for what he wanted to ask. Jazz wasn't normally so formal, and this new attitude piqued my curiosity.
"If I'm going to be here a bit, at least a week, anyway…" His cheeks went red, and he spoke quickly, like he was still unsure. "I was wondering if, when you have time, you could teach me how to fight. Or, at the least, how to not freeze."
I didn't understand him at first. Teach him how to fight? When would he ever need to know how to fight? If he was ever in a situation where someone wanted to hurt him, I'd take care of the threat. And if not me, one of the others.
"I keep thinking about that guy with the knife and how my brain just blanked out. I'm usually fast on my feet, but it's like I see a weapon and…" He made sounds like a plane soaring and then crashing out of the sky. "How do I fix that?" He turned his face toward me, his eyes shining with emotion. "How do I not be helpless?"