Chapter Forty-Eight – Ill-Timed Confessions
The nerve of that guy. Jamie couldn't stop the muscle tic in his jaw as he walked backstage after their little get-together with fans of the show. While Will, Anna, and the rest of the gang were busy coming up with a plan, he had been charged with keeping the crowd entertained. Although Jamie had plenty of experience with talking to strangers and entertaining them, he had been barely able to wait to be out of there. The bitter taste in his mouth was only getting more pungent and unpleasant by the minute.
And now, this. So, Cottontail had decided to make an appearance, most likely ready to assist his brother in his wrongdoing. They made quite a pair. Now that Jamie had seen Cottontail's face, he wasn't surprised about the sensation he had experienced when meeting Wencel. They were brothers, without a doubt, only the younger one was prettier.
Ah, what the fuck was he thinking now? Did he still have a soft spot for that asshole? For the first time in forever, Jamie felt a strangeness infiltrating his train of thought. He never spent too much time fucking the same guy since that was the only way to keep things squeaky clean, and because he had gone against his own rules, this was happening.
He had regrets. When had he ever had regrets before? All his sexual encounters were pleasant and over with before anyone developed any meaningful attachment. Feelings were messy, and he didn't need them. So why in hell had he crossed the line with a guy dressed in an ugly bunny suit? Was it because the asshole had seemed more sexually adventurous than the usual guys Jamie did the horizontal cha-cha with?
No, it hadn't been that. Cottontail was good. He'd intrigued Jamie, gotten on his nerves, and eventually—
Nah, there was no point in going there. Bunny boy had been an agent, an infiltrator with a mission, not someone to experience the real stuff with. Jamie had to accept it and move on.
If it only were that simple. Jamie had recklessly believed that he would never see Cottontail again. The logical thing to happen was for bunny boy to cower under some rock, so not to risk Jamie's anger. But the guy had balls. Jamie had to give it to him. Although he enjoyed looking threatening and he used his fists when provoked enough, he didn't look forward to meeting Cottontail again.
Cottontail. Fucking weird nickname. Jamie snorted, not quite believing all the stupid shit he'd been getting up to ever since meeting the guy. But he'd been the one to give the asshole that endearing nickname, so who should he blame for this whole mess in the end? Back then, he'd used to have so much fun.
Whatever. If the guy was here, Jamie was going to meet him. It was inevitable, so the sooner he did that, the better. At this point, Cottontail had to be part of the show, with the producers – aka Angus – now knowing all sorts of unsavory details about Jamie's sex life.
Never in his life had he felt like he had to be ashamed by what he did in bed, who he did it with, and so on. And he wasn't ashamed now; he was pissed.
Where was that son of a bitch? Jamie didn't need to think hard to make an educated guess. If Cottontail was here, he had to be staying with his brother or somewhere close by him. It didn't matter if Wencel was a witness to their confrontation or not.
On a second thought, it did. Jamie wanted to catch the asshole alone so he could make at least a little bit of sense out of what had happened between them and why.
***
Jamie spotted Wencel by the vending machine, where he seemed to be contemplating what snack to get with a dark expression on his face.
"Hey," he called out sharply.
Wencel turned to look at him but only spared him a glance. He continued to stare at the selection of snacks on display like it was a matter of saving the universe or a bomb needing disarming. "What do you need, Wicklow?"
"Where's your brother?"
Wencel remained silent for so long, he had Jamie thinking he had suddenly turned into a mute.
"Hey." Jamie smacked one hand on the vending machine window, right where Wencel was staring. "Are you deaf or something? Where's your fucking brother?"
"He's not here," Wencel said serenely.
"I saw him. I know he's here."
"If you're so convinced, why don't you go find him yourself? I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Now, listen here motherfucker," Jamie gritted his teeth as he grabbed Wencel by the front of his hoodie and pushed him with his back against the vending machine, "I'm done playing. You sent your younger brother to jump into bed with me, so this is on you."
Wencel seemed to have lost his cool. Jamie pressed hard against his chest, pinning him there like an insect in a display case, knowing well that the scumbag would have to struggle hard to release himself.
"What are you going to do to him?" Wencel asked, his hands on Jamie's wrists, gripping them as hard as he could.
Like his brother, Wencel had to be only exercising once in a blue moon so he had the energy and muscle strength of a limp noodle.
"I'm going to talk to him," Jamie replied.
"Only talk? The way you're talking to me right now?"
"If he pisses me off enough, I don't promise to hold back. Give him up now, or we're going to have a problem. You and your bosses are trying to do me dirty, so don't act so surprised if I retaliate. Where is your brother?"
"Jamie."
He heard a familiar voice calling to him from behind. Dropping Wencel like a sack of potatoes, Jamie turned on his heel.
"Lo and behold," he said, showing all his teeth in what surely must look like a ferocious grin, "the cat must have dragged something out from the crawlspace."
Yep, from up close, he could see the many differences between the two siblings. Wencel looked more like a weasel, while Cottontail looked more like a… well, like a rabbit, Jamie decided.
Definitely cuter than his older brother. Or that was his dick talking, something which Jamie didn't recall giving permission to even have an opinion, let alone speak.
"Hearst, be careful," Wencel warned. "I'm going to call security right now."
"Don't," Cottontail said. "I can handle Jamie."
"No, you can't," Jamie said, his eyes narrowing. Hearst, huh? That was a strange name, indeed. Jamie couldn't recall ever having met anyone else named that. The Wicklows had to be one weird family, but the Smiths didn't seem much better, either.
He wasn't ugly, Jamie thought as he continued to stare at Hearst. Skinny, unsure of his moves, with eyes made big by glasses, but not ugly. Maybe common-looking, although Jamie had a different opinion about that, which had to be caused by knowing the guy.
He didn't actually know Cottontail. He knew someone, to some degree, but now that the mask was off, in more ways than one, he felt a strange pull to know more.
This wasn't about him getting to know Cottontail, Hearst or whatever his name was. This was about setting the record straight and preparing for the worst. Like his new friend Will said, if you thought about the worst-case scenarios in advance, you could prepare accordingly.
It was weird to realize that he wasn't ready for this scenario, though. It didn't matter. They had to talk.
"Wen, don't call anyone, I mean it," Hearst said again.
Jamie recognized his soft hair, as Hearst pushed it away from his face in a nervous gesture. For all his posturing, it was evident that he wasn't ready for meeting Jamie, either.
"Okay," Wencel agreed. "But stay out here in the open so I can keep an eye on you. This guy likes using his fists a lot."
"I know him. He won't hit me," Hearst said calmly. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and gestured for Jamie to follow. "I'm going for a walk with him. You see about setting up that meeting you promised," he threw at his brother over his shoulder.
***
Hearst felt his heart hammering in his chest. He had told himself he wasn't ready, yet here he was, walking with Jamie, away from the motel, in terrifying silence.
"So," Jamie started as they veered around a gas station, away from prying eyes. "You're Hearst."
"Yes, that's my name."
"Weird name."
"I told you as much."
Jamie took the initiative to stop once they were behind the long trailer that served as the space for the convenience store in front. Hearst had no choice but to turn, so now they were facing each other.
"I heard you telling my brother that you wanted to talk to me. What about?" It hurt to look at Jamie. The disgusted expression on his face said everything, so words would hardly reveal anything new. Hearst was aware that he deserved a punch in the face, because based on what he knew, Jamie was entitled to it.
Jamie sighed and crossed his arms, leaning against the corrugated metal wall. "Stop looking so spooked. I'm not going to hit you. Everyone keeps thinking that."
Hearst felt his throat going dry. "Not everyone."
Jamie snorted. "The truth is out in the open, Hearst." He said his name pointedly, as if he wanted to prove something with it. "So drop the pretense. There's actually just one thing I need to know and hear from you. To get whatever you wanted to get on me, was it really necessary to sleep with me?"
"No," Hearst replied.
Jamie quirked an eyebrow. "So, why did you do it?"
"I needed to get to know you."
"Why?"
Of course, Jamie had no reason to believe whatever left his lying mouth.
"I like you."
"Shit, you're good. I almost believe you. I suppose that you knew about me and my side hustle, and your little dick got hard. So, you used me like I was some fucking prostitute?" Jamie rested his head against the wall and gave Hearst a long, complicated look.
"Why would you say such demeaning things about yourself? For the record, I'm not the one doing something like that."
"Right, I'm not the prostitute. You're the one who slept with me in exchange for information. I hope the pay was worth it."
Hearst chose his following words carefully. "I guess I deserve that. It doesn't matter; I'm not telling you I like you to get something in return."
Jamie's lips twisted in a sneer. "Tragic and dramatic much?"
He didn't have it in him to deny it. "You're free to think whatever you choose. But I'm here to help you."
Now, Jamie blinked and his expression changed. "Fuck no. I've had enough of your help."
"I'm not doing it to get you to like me," Hearst insisted. "That's not my final goal."
Jamie pushed himself away from the wall, his arms dropping to his sides. Hearst couldn't help looking at them. "Your final goal is to fuck me over. Your brother isn't saying it, but I have a hunch there's something to do with our families. Some old feud since my folks played a lot of dirty tricks on a lot of people."
Hearst bit his tongue. He knew the truth, but he couldn't see what good it would do to start talking about it. They hadn't had their proper breakup, so they were having it now. It was a good moment, probably the best they could have.
He yelped in surprise when Jamie grabbed him and brought their faces together. In that position, there was no way to avoid staring each other in the eyes.
"Whatever you and your brother are planning, I won't take it lying down, okay?"
Hearst nodded. "I don't doubt it. You're a fighter."
"Are you trying to butter me up? I told you I won't hit you, so stop trembling."
"You have no idea why I'm trembling right now." He was, indeed, shivering and barely aware of it until Jamie's remark. The reasons weren't a mystery to him.
"So why are you shaking like a leaf if you're not scared of me?" Jamie was holding him by the front of his hoodie, so he wasn't touching his body, yet it felt like he was.
Hearst blinked a few times. "You're too close," he blurted out.
"I don't remember you playing coy while sucking my cock," Jamie reminded him, like there was any need to do so.
"I'm not playing. I just don't like knowing that we'll never be this close again."
Jamie appeared taken aback by his sudden confession. It only lasted a moment. He sneered the next. "Why do you have to be so good at this? You're so homely looking, it shouldn't work when you do it."
The insult stung, but Hearst paid it no heed. He was plenty used to suffering barbs and digs at the hands of others.
"I have no idea what you mean," he said.
Jamie made him gasp by wrapping one arm around him and pressing their mouths together. What was going on? All the alarm bells in his head were going off at the same time, while Jamie kissed him fully, tongue and everything.
Why was this happening? Hearst couldn't keep a grip on a rational train of thought if it killed him. Jamie had to know how good he was at kissing.
The kiss ended abruptly. Jamie dropped him and pushed him away.
"Why did you do that?" Hearst shouted at him when he understood it was over.
Jamie shrugged, his eyes growing distant. "I had to check to see if you're worth regretting or not."
Hearst staggered under the force of the new blow. "And?" he asked. "Wait, don't answer. I know I'm not."
Jamie had his back to him. "I suppose you know better. Don't dare help me, Hearst. I mean it. If you even try, I'll cancel my promise not to hit you. I'll punch you in the face, and you look like a guy incapable of taking one for the team."
Hearst caught his head in his hands, wanting to scream. Oh, fuck, he needed to get a hold of himself. Jamie knew how to make himself hated. But if that was the case, he had another thing coming. Hearst didn't care about such things. He only cared about getting Jamie out of this situation, as unscathed as possible.
***
The anger was raw and fresh inside him. He shouldn't have done such a stupid thing. What sort of demon was advising him, pushing him to kiss the guy, to… what? To check if he was worth regretting? Jamie could hardly believe such words had truly left his mouth.
He had walked straight into that, all by his lonesome. Cottontail tasted as sweet as ever. His trembling was cute, too, once Jamie realized that it wasn't fear making him do it. It annoyed the hell out of him that Hearst had taken that away from him, that last insult which he hoped it'd sting so badly the guy would remember it for years.
He could go ahead and tell himself that Hearst had to be so good at deceiving that even now he was playing him. But no one, at least not someone as young as he was, could be that good. Jamie would have to leave with new regrets now, because he understood that circumstances had fucked him over.
If he'd met Cottontail in a different situation, they would've been able to hit it off without any of the complications they were experiencing right now. The things they'd done with each other would never have gone away.
Fuck, it didn't matter. It was over now, and he saw no need to get in direct contact with Hearst again, unless the guy had a sudden wish to get punched in the face, as Jamie had promised him he would.
So, in a nutshell, that had been the last time. Talking to each other, kissing. Jamie shook his head, speeding up his pace. If a horde of flesh-eating zombies were chasing him, he wouldn't be moving this fast.
Yeah, feelings were messy. He'd done well to stay away from anything of the sort for most of his life, but that also meant that he had no experience in dealing with them now they were on his tail.
Whatever. He'd glide over it all, like he usually did. Also, what business did he have to trouble himself with such things? The LiveFeed producers were bent on fucking them over, and he had a little army he needed to organize so they could go to war with those scumbags.
Hearst had chosen the other side of the barricades, no matter what he was saying. Jamie had seen the way his face fell when told he was homely looking. That had been an unwarranted insult, but Jamie didn't want to take it back.
After all, Hearst had hurt him worse than that. Both of them had to live with the consequences of their actions.
TBC