25. Vail

25

VAIL

The home was stunning. I’d never been in anything like it. The front room we were in was two stories with tall windows that climbed high and arched at the top. To my left was a grand wooden staircase with railings that curled at the bottom. A burgundy carpet runner went up the stairs where they stopped at a broad landing.

On my right in the next room there was a library and a desk. It looked like a well-used space, with soft lighting and a computer monitor on the desk. The view outside was just as grand with the property spread out in front of it, pine trees dotting the landscape to give privacy.

“Vail, Hartley, this is Sylvan,” Jordan said. “Sylvan, these are my partners.”

Sylvan held out his hand to shake ours. His trembled in my grasp. “It’s nice to meet you. I wish it were under different circumstances, but please know the home is well-equipped to keep you safe. There are guns in every room and while my hand did shake just now, I assure you, I’ve got good aim.”

“Oleander trained him with targets in the backyard.”

A blush rose over Sylvan’s cheeks. “He’s a good teacher. Kind and patient.”

“Sylvan baked muffins this morning and was wondering if you’d each like one. Then he’ll give you a tour. The house is impressive.”

“You just want to get rid of us so you can take care of that…” Hartley motioned toward the door we entered through.

“I’m not going to deny it, but I’d rather not discuss it. There are consequences for fucking with who’s mine,” Jordan bit out. “As well as injuring those I care about. I have no remorse for what I’m about to do.”

Hartley sighed. “All right, I get it. Just… I don’t know… Don’t come upstairs with blood on you.”

Jordan nodded and pressed a kiss to Hartley’s lips before turning to me. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m okay. I’m not happy and I don’t want to think about what you’re about to do, but Ollie was injured, and I understand your motives.”

“Not just Ollie. You were in that SUV, as was Forest and Sheldon. No one will ever touch a fucking hair on your or Hartley’s heads without facing me for doing so.”

Before he could say more, I leaned forward to kiss him. “I love you, Jordan.”

“Even though I’m going to kill someone?”

“Yes. You’re honest with me when I ask. I trust you. We’ll be here when you’re done.”

If I thought about Jordan doing these things previously, it would make my stomach turn. I didn’t like violence in any sense, but something inside me changed today. After being in the accident, hearing the shots ring out, having to duck for cover with Forest, and watching Oleander bleed, I understood a bit more about Jordan. While I didn’t deal with situations like he did, in his mind, this was justified. And if it meant we were closer to finding Gil and ending all of it, then while I didn’t condone what he was about to do, I also didn’t hate him for it. I never would. Jordan wanted us protected and safe. This was his way of accomplishing it.

“I love you both.” Jordan turned and left the room, going through the door we entered from.

Hartley’s hand slipped into mine, drawing my attention to him. “That was nice of you to say to him.”

“I meant it. I don’t agree with him, but I understand him a little better. The violence I used to endure was nothing like today. It was only targeted at me in the past. And never more than what Gil’s hands and words could do. But today, they were shooting at us, Hart. I can still hear it. When Ollie was hurt, I don’t know, everything changed. Jordan’s dangerous as hell, but there are others out there who want nothing more than to take him out. While I know in my gut this has to do with Gil, other events haven’t. Jordan is meeting violence with violence because there’s no other way to handle it in his world.”

“You’re right, and we’ll be here for him when he needs us.”

“We will.”

We kissed but kept it brief. Forest was in the room, as was Sylvan, who was already nervous. He didn’t need to be uncomfortable too. Albert was here a moment ago, but he’d since drifted.

“You two...” Sylvan smiled. “I’ve never seen Jordan like this before. Then again, I’ve never seen him with a lover. We only talk when he calls or visits, which isn’t often.”

“How did you two meet?” I asked. It would be good to get my mind off the events of today and onto Sylvan and the beautiful home he lived in that doubled as Jordan’s safe house.

“Follow me and I’ll tell you. I did make muffins this morning. Blueberry.” He was still nervous as he glanced around but the more he talked to us, the more he seemed to relax.

We followed him into the kitchen, which was as grand as the rest of the house. Cabinets in a warm brown adorned the walls to my left. The counters were a light beige stone and shone beneath the recessed lighting. The doorways leading to and from the kitchen were arched, adding to the overall charm. The kitchen was open to a breakfast nook with a table that sat six. There was a bowl of fresh fruit in the center of the table. I was certain there was a formal dining room close. A house like this had to have one.

Sylvan plated a muffin for each of us and brewed coffee. When it was done, we sat in the breakfast nook.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” Sylvan asked. “I’m not that exciting.”

“You work for Jordan,” Hartley said. “That in and of itself is interesting. Plus, look at this place. I need the details.” He picked up his mug and took a sip, his attention fully on Sylvan.

“Okay. I’m not sure how much Jordan has mentioned about me.”

“Nothing,” Hartley told him.

Sylvan nodded. “Well, I’m an author. Not a very successful one before I met Jordan. I was in a bookstore in East Dremest that has since closed. I had a table and was hoping to meet readers and sign a few books. Only, no one came to see me. It was awful and fed into my overall anxiety. Luckily, the kind woman who ran the store kept me company. She told me how her business had dwindled over the years and she was retiring soon. Her husband had passed, and her daughter was urging her to move south where she lived, where the weather was warmer. Anyway, as I was packing up what I’d brought with me, a man walked in. I didn’t pay him any mind, kept to myself as I gathered my belongings.

“He stopped at my table and asked what I was doing. I told him I was there to sign books but was about to leave. We got into a discussion about what I wrote. I told him gay romance but on the lighter side. I didn’t tell him at the time but so much of my life had been watching others through my apartment windows, wondering what their lives were like. When I went out and walked on the street with them, I didn’t have the courage to talk to anyone or make friends. So, I created them in my mind and put my stories into books. Jordan asked to see a book. I handed him a copy, waiting to be made fun of. I knew who he was, of course. When he reached into his pocket and withdrew a fifty-dollar bill, I wasn’t sure what was happening.”

Hartley grinned. “I love where this is going.”

“Jordan wanted to buy my book and asked me to sign it. I told him to keep the money. He was the only person who had visited me outside of the owner, and it was only by coincidence he happened to stop in that day. But Jordan wouldn’t hear of it. I accepted his money, and he went on his way. Six months later, I ran into him again, this time at a florist. It was my mom’s birthday. She had passed a few years prior. I like to take flowers to her grave and talk with her. Unbeknownst to me, Jordan liked stopping into the local businesses and asking how they were. I was seeing a side of him I hadn’t known existed.”

Every word Sylvan said reinforced why I loved Jordan as much as I did. Yes, he was currently downstairs most likely killing the man who hurt us, but he wasn’t only that person. Jordan cared about the community and the people in it.

“After speaking with the owner, he saw me waiting to pay. He told me he read my book. Jordan Altair read my flirty romance and he liked it. I could hardly believe it. He asked me to have lunch with him. I told him another time because I had to get to my mom’s grave. Jordan surprised me yet again by paying for the flowers and driving me to the cemetery. He even said hello to my mom and told her she raised a good son she could be proud of.”

Okay, now I was welling up with tears. This story was so sweet, I’d have to find Jordan and hug the shit out of him later. Hartley wasn’t faring much better. He swiped at his eyes and sniffled.

“We went to lunch at Jordan’s restaurant. If you haven’t eaten there yet, he should take you.”

“He told us he has a steakhouse,” Hartley said. “But we haven’t been.”

“It’s amazing. Some of the best food I’ve ever had.”

“Continue,” Hartley prompted.

“Right. So, after we ate, Jordan asked me about my books, and we fell into an easy conversation. We connected. Not the way you three have, but as friends. Over the next few months, we kept in touch. Or Jordan kept tabs on me. I was about to be evicted due to not being able to afford rent. My books weren’t selling, and I couldn’t find a job. It was a terrible situation. Jordan showed up at my apartment and offered me a hand up. He said he was purchasing a piece of property and was looking for a person to oversee it. He’d give me free room and board as well as pay for food. But there was a caveat of him using it as a safe house. Knowing what he did, I wasn’t surprised. Me agreeing to this came with a level of secrecy I was used to since I wasn’t social to begin with. In all honesty, it was a dream come true.”

“How are your books doing today?” I asked.

“They sell like I can’t believe. I use a pen name and keep my personal life separate, but with the help of Jordan getting my books into local cafés and spreading the word, I’ve developed a great following.”

“That’s amazing,” I told him. We hadn’t heard of Sylvan before this but given how private he was, I wasn’t surprised.

“Jordan gave me a new life, one I dreamed of. I didn’t have to worry about bills or anything but writing. And when he needs me to, I craft stories for him as well.”

“You do?” Hartley asked.

“How do you think he covers up so many of his crimes? I give him the stories and his people create the scene.”

“Oh my god, that’s fucking brilliant.”

“It allows me to tap into the darker side of my mind. It’s also a nice change from writing what I usually do.”

I smiled. This day started good, became horrible, then was good again. Well, at least for us. For the man downstairs, not so much. But I wasn’t worrying about him. Not when I had someone like Sylvan in front of me, who told me a story that warmed my heart so much I’d never forget his words.