Chapter 10

TEN

CALEB

When I get home from work, Nacho and Miss K immediately approach me and meow plaintively. Nacho even tries to climb up my leg.

Judging from the hour, it’s high past their dinner time.

“Did you feed the cats?” I call out into the living room, but there’s no response. Maybe Seven is still in the casino.

I scoop up Nacho and walk to the kitchen, where I can see the clean food bowls still sitting in the dish drying rack. I have to set Nacho down again so I can get food out for both of them.

“Here you go, Miss K,” I say, setting the bowl down in front of her. Nacho meows, but he’s learned not to steal her food.

That hasn’t stopped him from trying to steal human food, of course. It’s been hard teaching him that our meals aren’t for him.

After both cats have been fed, I head to my bedroom to get changed. I stop when I realize that Seven is lying on the couch, staring straight ahead. His eyes are open, but he doesn’t move.

That does not bode well.

I continue to the bedroom, changing out of the suit and into a plain t-shirt and track pants. I send a quick text to Vortex and Havoc, then go back out to see what’s bothering Seven.

I stop directly in front of him, blocking his view of the turned-off TV.

Seven doesn’t even seem to notice for a moment, but then he slowly blinks at me. His eyes take several seconds too long to focus on me, but he finally seems to acknowledge my presence. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I answer, making a shooing gesture. “Sit up so I have space too.”

His motions are sluggish, but he struggles into a seated position.

As soon as I’m on the couch next to him, he rests heavily against me, closing his eyes again. “You were gone forever,” he mumbles.

I check my watch, and I sigh when I see the time. “I was. Some people accuse me of being a workaholic.” I squeeze his shoulder. “Next time, I’ll send Vortex up to you for lunch. Would you like that?”

Seven’s eyes open again, and he glances at me with an inscrutable expression. “I guess. It’d be better if it was you, though. If you want me, anyway.”

I eye him carefully. He sounds genuine, but it’s such an obvious line that I don’t believe him.

Seven knows how to give people what they want.

I grab the TV remote and turn the TV on. I flip to one of the many streaming channels I subscribe to, then I hand Seven the remote. “Here. Pick whatever.”

His hand is slack, and the remote falls through his fingers. “What?”

I frown at him, not liking that his reaction times seem to be so delayed, that he seems to be so distant. I don’t think there’s anything he could’ve gotten into, and the guards had reported that he hadn’t even left the room, but he’s acting almost… drugged. “Do you have a favorite show?”

Seven lets out a quiet huff. “No. You pick.”

I take the remote again and shuffle through the recently watched shows. “What are you in the mood for? A serious drama? Trashy reality TV? A light-hearted comedy? An anime?”

“A what?” he asks, brow furrowing. I don’t think he’d intended to ask because he immediately winces, mumbling, “I don’t care. Just something you like.”

I scroll over to the comedy anime I’d been watching, about a martial artist whose moves were all somehow related to baking. “My niece recommended this one,” I say as the preview plays. “It’s a cartoon from Japan. But we can watch it in English.”

“You know Japanese?” Seven somehow picks out of all the things I’d just said. Then he picks up on something else. “You watch cartoons?”

“I don’t speak Japanese, but I watch with subtitles. And you won’t believe this, but I was a very big anime nerd when I was a teenager.” I shake my head. “I lost interest, but with my niece being so invested now, I’ve been watching a few again.”

“How old is your niece?” Seven asks slowly—warily, almost. “Does she ever come here?”

“She’s twelve. And she visits sometimes to check on Miss K, but never for long, since she’s so allergic to cats.” I start the first episode of the anime just to have something playing. “Let me know if you want to watch something else.”

He nods, but I can tell he’s distracted. He nibbles on his bottom lip, focusing on the TV. I watch him more than I watch the show—the way his brow furrows in confusion at times, the way he seems intrigued at others.

“What do you usually watch?” I ask him as casually as I can.

Seven tenses anyway, despite the gentle tone of my voice. His gaze darts around the room, and he stares at the wall as he replies, “Um. My parents didn’t let me watch TV. I just read a lot. Mostly the bible.”

I don’t know what to make of that. Extremely religious parents? Running from a religious commune?

The lash marks would track for being part of a religious cult, as does the submissiveness.

Being part of a religious cult wouldn’t explain how easily he falls into bed with people, though.

“Well, if you don’t like this, we can watch something else,” I say. “A documentary?”

He shakes his head. “No, I think I like this.” He looks to me, that same wary expression on his face. “As long as it’s what you want to watch?”

At the very least, he seems to be waking up mentally, even if he’s further from me than ever.

“I like this show too,” I say carefully.

I toy with how easy it would be to get him to cry again. I’d just have to tell him he’s wrong for liking this show. I could make him go to his room, where I know another hour or two of isolation would make him beg for me.

My cock thrums at the idea.

Havoc and Vortex would probably murder me if they found out I went out of my way to make Seven cry.

It doesn’t make me want it any less.

Seven nods, falling silent as he pays attention to the new episode.

Miss K wanders our way, with Nacho on her tail. The kitten looks like he wants to pounce on her, with Miss K fully oblivious to him. She jumps onto the sofa and curls up against me on my other side, leaving Nacho confounded on what to do.

“Seven,” I begin. “You know we feed the cats in the afternoon, don’t you?”

He blinks at me. “What?”

“I was out late, but if you’re around, you can feed the cats,” I say. “Cats appreciate consistency. I try to give Miss K her dinner at 7 p.m. Nacho will beg for food less if he knows when he’s getting his dinner, too.”

Seven frowns at that. “Oh. I just thought…” He trails off. “I mean, he’s always just eaten when I feed him. I didn’t think about set times or anything.” He licks his lips, suddenly radiating anxiety. “Is it bad that I didn’t feed them today?”

I need to tread carefully now. “They survived that entire extra hour of hunger. But there’s no reason to make them wait if we don’t need to. Nacho’s a growing boy, and he needs all the nutrients he can get.”

“Yeah.” Seven gnaws on his bottom lip. “He probably wouldn’t have to go to the vet if I’d been able to feed him regularly, huh?”

“Considering he’s an intact male?” I scoff. “He needs to get neutered either way, before he starts spraying all over the apartment.”

Seven’s bewilderment is palpable, but he only says, “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that.”

Nacho finally jumps onto the arm of the couch, and from there squishes himself into the space between Miss K and the side of the couch. She growls at him, but she doesn’t attack.

“Unneutered male cats urinate to mark their territory,” I explain, petting Miss K. “It smells awful and causes a big mess. Since neither of us wants to deal with that, we’ll get Nacho’s balls removed and nip that behavior in the bud.”

“And that’s okay for him?” Seven persists. “Getting his balls cut off? He’s not going to be like… messed up because of them hurting him like that?”

Sometimes, Seven is so savvy and jaded that it’s easy to forget that he’s not what he pretends to be. Other times, I’m reminded of just how vulnerable he is.

“He won’t feel a thing,” I promise him. “Miss K is spayed, too. This’ll ensure that Nacho won’t feel the need to escape to find a female to breed with.”

“Okay,” Seven says. He doesn’t sound convinced, but he goes back to watching the show. A few minutes tick by, then he says, “I’m sorry about not feeding the cats. I don’t want to mess up Nacho.”

He sounds genuinely distressed by that thought, and I pull him closer to me. “Nacho will be fine. He’s happy he’s here, with us, and has steady food and companionship.” I pet Nacho, who chirps and curls to reveal his belly. “How did you get Nacho, anyway?”

“I found him,” Seven says slowly. “He was… I mean, he was small and cute, and I was sitting outside—” He catches himself, shaking his head before going on, “and anyway, he came up to me and wanted food and pets and scratches and I couldn’t leave him behind, you know?” He looks at me, like he’s pleading for me to understand. “I didn’t know what to do with him, so I just… stuck him in my bag, and I was afraid he’d suffocate at first, but he liked it there, and he just stayed with me. Then I met you. I haven’t had him that long.”

“Cats can be like that,” I say vaguely. Every cat person I know has some saying about how cats find their own owners, or that they adopt their humans. It sounds a bit like projecting to me, but Miss K seems to enjoy my company. “We’ll make sure Nacho is in good health and will live a long, easy life from now on.”

Seven studies me, then he nods. “He’s lucky I found you. I don’t know if I could’ve kept taking care of him if I hadn’t.”

Not, “I’m lucky I found you,” but “Nacho is lucky I found you.”

Still, it’s progress.

Before I can comment, there’s a knock on the door, then Vortex walks in with Havoc in tow.

Vortex looks between us. “Sorry, boss. Want us to come back in a few minutes?”

I shake my head. “No. Seven and I are starving. You brought the sushi?”

Havoc grumbles loudly. “Why did you order sushi in this city? There’s no way this fish is anywhere near fresh enough for it. You’re paying premium for old, raw fish.”

Seven scowls at me. “We’re having raw fish for dinner?” He shakes his head. “Nope. Nacho can have mine. I’ll see if he left any cat food behind.”

I smile and tap his nose. “I’m having sushi, Vortex is having sushi. You can try some sushi. But I did also order non-fishy dishes.”

“Yeah, there’s chicken katsu,” Havoc says. “And all the sides. The standard California rolls, if you like those.”

Seven’s expression is guarded, and I’d bet Miss K that he has no idea what we’re talking about. “Okay. I’ll try the chicken. But raw fish just sounds gross, Caleb.”

“It’s pretty good, Seven,” Vortex offers. “You should try everything at least once.”

“Have you ever taken it up the ass, Vortex?” Seven asks out of nowhere.

Vortex almost chokes on nothing at all. “What?”

“I mean, if you’ve never gotten fucked up the ass, how do you know it’s not good? Shouldn’t you try everything once, too?” Seven asks innocently.

Havoc bursts out laughing. “He’s got you there, Vortex.” He sets the takeout bag on the table. “Sushi is good when you aren’t ordering it in the fucking desert, though.”

“It’s good even in the desert,” Vortex argues. “Besides, it’s on Caleb’s tab, not mine.”

Seven sits up so he can peruse the bag. He takes the different dishes out, critically examining each one. He settles on the chicken katsu, sounding relieved when he says, “Oh, it’s just chicken tenders. With… ketchup?”

“Sounds like we need to introduce Seven to more types of cuisine,” I say. The other two settle on the empty armchairs. I pick up one of the plastic forks and hand it to Seven before taking a pair of chopsticks for myself.

Havoc looks at the TV. “What’re you watching?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

“Anime,” Seven says as casually as if he hadn’t just learned what it was not even an hour earlier. “The baker does karate to make shit happen. Caleb and his niece like it.”

Vortex quirks a brow. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as the type, boss,” he says. “It would make sense for Havoc, though.”

Havoc scoffs loudly. “Sure, if I ever got to choose what was on TV. It was either sports or nothing at my house.”

Seven digs his fork into the katsu. “You could maybe watch this with me and Caleb, if you wanted.” He glances warily at me. “If that’s okay. And if Vortex isn’t above watching Japanese cartoons.”

“I don’t have a problem with anime ,” Vortex says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes as he takes one of the containers of sushi and settles down on an armchair across the room from us. “My sister went through a whole anime thing when she was younger.”

It’s strange. There are three men in my home, and although the memory of our activities from last night linger in my mind—I certainly will never forget Seven’s beautiful reactions—I don’t have any desire to lead this into something sexual.

I don’t remember the last time I had anybody over who wasn’t related to me. I suppose Vortex and Havoc are my employees, but they aren’t working now.

It’s almost like they’re friends.

I glance at Seven, who smiles as he recaps what has happened so far in the show.

I wouldn’t be able to keep him smiling like that on my own.

It’s a bit unorthodox, but I feel justified in my decision to allow Vortex and Havoc access to Seven. He needs more than just me.

It’s the best way to ensure Seven won’t want to run away.