2. Jace Holloway

Chapter 2

Jace Holloway

Night had fallen on the city that never sleeps.

The sidewalk was busy with New Yorkers either starting their night out or wrapping things up, mingling with the never-ending flow of tourists. A woman with long legs strutted by, holding a couple of bags of groceries and wearing an impenetrable pair of sunglasses, even though it was already dark. Two men stumbled past, drunk off happy hour and talking loudly about what they wanted to do to their boss. Another man yelled belligerently at a stationary lamp post, his torn shirt looking like it badly needed to be replaced.

I loved this city.

Many people might have been put off by the microcosm of lives they encountered on a single sidewalk. It took a certain type of person to love the shoulder-to-shoulder commute, the dirty subways, the whiplash in sounds and smells from one block to another, but I was fascinated by it.

I’d grown up here and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. For a short time, I had. When my parents divorced—me being only ten—my mom had moved to a much quieter suburb in upstate New York. I had left with her, my life turned upside down by the split but made worse better by the fact that my mother enjoyed belittling me. I had a difficult time at school, and she would make sure I knew it was my fault. The failing grades, the letters from the teachers, the lack of solid friends.

It was all my fault for being too stupid, too anxious, too quiet, too this or that.

Then came the pill addiction. Looking back now, as guilty as it made me feel, the addiction may have been a blessing in disguise. The harsh critiques and verbal lashings all but ceased. She didn’t show up to any parent-teacher meetings, and she stopped looking over my homework and my report card. She checked out, my mother becoming more of a zombie than anything else.

She landed in jail on my thirteenth birthday, and I hadn’t spoken to her since.

I moved back with my father permanently after that. Her addiction, the lack of a caring parental figure, it was like a semitruck running over an already beat-up carcass on the road. I changed forever after that. I became closed off. My father tried his hardest, but he wasn’t equipped to handle it. He was a New York City cop, used to solving problems with handcuffs and jail cells. None of that would help me.

Not until later in life, at least, when I decided to follow in his footsteps.

I started walking toward the subway station, stopping at the crosswalk. Honks filled the air as ride-share drivers searched for their pickups and delivery trucks squeezed through gaps in traffic, and locals wondered why the hell they ever brought their cars into the city in the first place. I pulled out my phone and was about to get lost in scrolling through the news when someone caught my attention from the side of my eye.

I glanced up to my left.

A man. Taller than me, probably six foot three if I had to guess. Broad shoulders, chiseled jawline. He wore a dark black jacket, even though summer had only just loosened its warm grip on the city. Hair cut short on the sides, freshly trimmed, with the top meticulously styled. A silver Rolex watch glittered on his wrist, and a pair of clean white Nikes were inches away from a questionable puddle.

Officer Caleb may not have been my type, but this random stranger definitely was. I shot a few more side glances his way before I forced myself to pry my eyes off him. Truth was, I enjoyed myself quite a bit when it came to other men. I had a high sex drive and wasn’t shy about it. I found most other men weren’t, either. It was something I loved about being gay. Especially here in such a crowded city. A hookup was a simple Grindr message away from landing in my lap.

I wondered if this tall stallion of a man would end up on my grid. Was he on there now?

I swiped the screen on my phone and went to open the app when an email notification stole my attention. It was from the credit card company. I’d fallen three months behind in payments, and they were now threatening to send my account to collections.

Wonderful.

Thankfully, with my new job, I was beginning to earn enough that I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I could actually catch up on the card and still have money left over.

I started to cross the street, deciding to just pay the bill before it got worse. I was completely unaware of the white minivan barreling toward me. The honking had become white noise after living in the city for so long. Someone shouted. I looked up just in time to see the headlights flash across my vision. I couldn’t even fill my lungs with air enough to scream.

A hand snapped around my elbow and yanked me backward. I fell with the momentum, the two of us tumbling onto the sidewalk. The person who had pulled me out of harm’s way took most of the blunt force from the fall. I heard a pained grunt. I untangled myself from my savior and got back up to my feet, breathless, shaken.

It was the man I’d been eyeing. I stuck out a hand and helped my white knight back up onto his feet.

“Holy shit, thank you,” I said.

The man looked at me with a pair of the bluest eyes I had ever seen. “You should watch where you’re going next time.”

“Right, my fault.” I couldn’t blame him for his bluntness. I’d put both of us in harm’s way. I realized his jacket had gotten scratched up from the fall. “Shoot, sorry. I can pay for it. ”

He looked down at his arm. He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Just stay safe. You were nearly roadkill there.”

“It was a close call. Thanks again.”

He paused for a second, his eyes roaming my face as if he were looking at me through a microscope. I felt oddly uncomfortable under his stare. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was messing with me. A near life-or-death experience would definitely make someone’s emotions turbulent, to say the least.

“I’m Jace, by the way.” I did it as a way to break the growing tension. I could have easily just said bye and been on my way, but I figured we should at least exchange some pleasantries after the harrowing experience.

“Theo.”

There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. I gave him a simple nod and pulled myself out of the magnetic orbit I’d been yanked into. I could continue on my way home, where I could surround myself with morbid photos and inconclusive evidence, or I could make a detour and actually enjoy the night.

Fuck it.

Today was stressful enough. I decided I needed to blow off some steam. And I knew exactly how I could accomplish that.

I pulled my cap down over my eyes as I stood in line behind two men, one breathing down the other’s neck, hands lost inside his shorts. I could practically smell the poppers and lube drifting out of the bathhouse whenever the heavy steel door opened.

A bouncer gave me a once-over before nodding me inside. I stepped into a dim corridor bathed in red light, the thrum of bass vibrating through the walls. A row of chains hung from the ceiling.

At the check-in desk, a bored attendant slid a key and a numbered wristband across the counter. “Lockers are to the left,” he muttered without looking up.

I made my way to the locker room, the air thick with steam and anticipation. I found my assigned locker and began to strip down. Shirt off first, the cool air hitting my skin. Shoes and socks tucked away. I unbuckled my belt, letting my jeans slide down my legs before folding them neatly on the shelf. Standing there in just my briefs, I hesitated for a moment, a flicker of self-awareness. Then, I shrugged it off—I wasn’t here to overthink.

I got completely naked. A man watched me curiously as he began to undress. He was attractive. Maybe we could play together later.

First, I wanted to do a lap.

I wrapped a towel snugly around my waist, the fabric rough against my skin. My belongings secured, I closed the locker with a metallic click and put the key around my wrist. The weight of the day began to lift, replaced by a different kind of tension.

Stepping into the main area, I was enveloped by a labyrinth of shadows and muted whispers. The bathhouse was a maze of corridors and hidden alcoves, each corner revealing glimpses of entwined, sweaty bodies. Red and blue lights pulsed overhead, casting everything in a surreal glow. Chains hung from the ceiling, clicking together as I walked through them.

A hand grazed my shoulder. I turned to see a man with a sly grin and hooded eyes. Without words, the stranger reached out, fingertips trailing down my arm. I allowed myself a half-smile but shook my head gently. The man shrugged and melted back into the crowd.

I moved deeper into the labyrinth, the sounds of soft moans and muffled conversations blending into a seductive soundtrack. In an open room, two men were lost in each other, their movements synchronized like a dark dance. Nearby, another trio was entwined in a complex choreography of limbs and desire. I watched for a moment, a voyeur to their anonymous intimacy.

Continuing on, I felt the weight of someone’s gaze. I glanced over to see a pair of eyes meeting mine—a silent invitation. Before I could respond, the man approached, bold and unapologetic. He knelt in front of me, hands resting on my thighs. I exhaled slowly, allowing myself to be pulled into the moment.

But as his mouth worked my cock, I felt a disconnect. It was physical, yes, but hollow—a temporary balm that couldn’t touch the deeper ache inside me. I gently pulled away, offering a nod of thanks before moving on.

The air grew thicker, the lights dimmer. My senses were heightened. I turned a corner and nearly stumbled upon a scene that took me aback—a man pressed against the wall, eyes closed in ecstasy as he was railed by one man while another sucked his cock. The raw intensity of it sent a jolt through me. My towel twitched as my cock grew firm underneath it.

I continued on. Finding a quieter hallway, I leaned against the cool tile, closing my eyes. Suddenly, without warning, the faces of the victims flashed behind my eyelids—their lifeless eyes, the black feathers. The weight I’d tried to shed was creeping back in.

Maybe it was time for me to go. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to frequent a place like this.”

The voice was smooth, with a hint of amused curiosity. My eyes snapped open. Standing before me was the man from earlier that evening—the one who had pulled me back from the brink of disaster.

The night just became a whole lot more interesting.