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  “Understood.”

  “See you around.” Travis clapped him on the shoulder. “Be well.”

  Dylan watched him go, drinking the last of his own mug. He slid his phone into the pocket of his bag, before tossing the strap over his shoulder. He watched the man at the table out of the corner of his eye. The man was doing the same to him. He stepped out of the café, striding toward the nearest subway tunnel to get home. He took a sharp right into an alley and ducked behind a large dumpster. He heard quick footsteps enter. He waited until the man was almost past him before he stood back up. He delivered a swift kick to the man’s behind.

  “Sonofabitch!” He yelped, stumbling. Dylan recognized him now that he was closer. The newest one; Benjamin.

  “Your stealth skills are an embarrassment.” Dylan folded his arms across his chest. “I’m going home. I don’t require an escort.”

  “Your parents, and David,” Benjamin groaned, straightening. “They were worried because your phone went offline. Too long for it to be dead. What happened?”

  “Why not ask directly? Why follow me around?”

  “I’m doing what I was told to do.”

  “Find a new job,” Dylan suggested. “You’re not suited to this line of work.”

  “Please,” Benjamin cleared his throat, “let me escort you back to your apartment. If only so that I can tell them you got back safely.”

  “Am I going to see you tomorrow?” Dylan asked. “Should I save you the trouble and give you my day’s itinerary?” He turned, walking out of the alley. Benjamin followed him, sticking close to him now that the secret was out.

  “What happened to your phone? I saw that you had one with you.”

  “I dropped it into a glass of water.”

  “On purpose?”

  “Yes, on purpose.”

  Benjamin didn’t answer. He followed Dylan down into the subway tunnel. He was behind him as he got onto the southbound train. He continued to follow him onto the connecting train to Alphabet City, then the two-block walk from the platform to the apartment building.

  “I’m home now.” Dylan stopped short of the entrance to the apartment. “Just like I said.”

  “I’ll see you inside before I take my leave.”

  “Take your leave?” Dylan repeated. He took a step closer to the man. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “What are your credentials? Why you were hired.”

  “I served four years as an infantryman. I have excellent marksmanship.”

  “You didn’t re-enlist. Why?”

  “I was shot in the leg and the shoulder. I didn’t enjoy it.”

  Dylan chuckled. “You decided coming to work for a Senator and protecting his privileged, pretty boy son was safer work?”

  “I see far fewer guns,” Benjamin replied. “That’s a win in my book.”

  “What do you for fun? When you’re not on the clock, I mean. Do you have friends? A girlfriend?”

  “Fun? I, uh,” Benjamin seemed startled by the question, “I read. Play video games. Watch TV. Normal things. I have a few friends I play games with online, but most of my real friends live back in Montana. I’m single. Bisexual.”

  “Montana?”

  “I’m from a small town, an hour from Billings called Buckhorn,” Benjamin offered. “My parents have a large cattle ranch. They’re moderately wealthy, but they’re not loaded.”

  “I see.” Dylan let his arms fall to his sides. He gave Benjamin a closer once-over. The man was casually dressed in dark jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He was attractive, with a five o’clock shadow, broad shoulders, and good posture. He’d been trying too hard to hide in plain sight with the hat and sunglasses. Finally, he asked, “Would you like to come upstairs?”

  “Excuse me?” Benjamin didn’t hide his brief surprise.

  “Come upstairs. To my apartment. While my roommate imbibes, I don’t keep alcohol in the house. I can offer you water, soft drinks, juice, coffee.” He took a step closer to him. “Are you afraid of me?”

  “Why would I be afraid of you?” A small smile tweaked his lips. Dylan resisted the urge to lift the sunglasses to see his eyes.

  “I don’t know. You seem hesitant. It’s an honest invitation.”

  “I was asked to make sure you made it from the school back to your apartment.”

  He hummed, shifting closer still. “How do you know I won’t leave again?”

  “Are you going to?”

  “I had no plans to.” His eyes roved downward for a second appraisal. Definitely attractive. He met the man’s eyes. “I may change my mind.”

  “Dakota is parked across the street,” Benjamin said. “If you don’t want one of us following you while you’re out, I would suggest that you let us put the tracking back on your phone.”

  “Why my phone?” Dylan asked. “Why not drop a tracker in my bag? Microchip me, maybe? They do it to dogs.”

  That made Benjamin flinch. “Putting a tracker in your bag would be useless. We’d have to replace it every seven to ten days. The batteries wear out in them quickly. Using a GPS tracker app on your phone is more reliable, both in locating you and in battery conservation. As for microchipping, doing that to a human is still illegal.”

  “So are tracking apps.”

  “Only when installed without the person’s consent. You knew the app was installed on your phone. When you were younger, your parents consented. I admit, I’m not sure about the legalities after you turned eighteen. However, the law is what’s stopping me from just stealing your phone and putting it on anyway.”

  “Could you do that? Pick pocket me, I mean.”

  “I could.”

  Dylan hummed again. “You didn’t answer me, Benjamin. Do you want to come upstairs?”

  “Are you asking me, as a person, or are you asking a member of your security team?”

  “When are you off the clock?”

  “As soon as you’re out of my sight.”

  Dylan laughed. He reached up, covering Benjamin’s eyes with his hands. “There. You’re off the clock.” His hand lowered back to his side. “Now that you’re not being paid, I’ll be clearer. Do you want to fuck?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I ended my celibacy. It was tiresome and frustrating. I tried it with someone I liked and respected. It wasn’t what I was looking for. So, maybe I could try it with someone I just found attractive instead.”

  “You’re very flattering.” Benjamin’s tone remained annoyingly professional.

  “So? What do you think?”

  “I think that would be unethical.”

  Dylan shrugged, taking a step back. “A valid answer. I’ll accept it this time. Have a good night, Benjamin from Montana.”

  Chapter Five

  Dylan had a bottle of beer sitting on the table in front of him. His birthday had been lackluster so far. The morning had been fine, but on his way to school for a meeting with the Art Department head, his water bottle had leaked in his bag. His sketchbook had been fine, but the momentary panic had set him on edge. After the meeting, he’d gone to meet Britannia’s train and get lunch with her. The train ended up being thirty minutes late, so they’d only managed to grab hot dogs before he had to be back at the school for class.

  During class, one of the students had made the mistake of picking up an ink bottle by the cap, which wasn’t screwed on tightly. Two tables and four flour tiles were forever stained magenta. He’d received numerous texts and social media notifications of birthday wishes; including a text from Tyler.

  [TYLER] Happy birthday. Hope you enjoy the show tonight. Our encore will be dedicated to you.

  He had felt a sense of foreboding, settling in his stomach ever since.

  He knew that Jack, Britannia, and Mora were downstairs in the pit area of the audience. He wasn’t in a dancing mood. He’d by-passed joining them to come upstairs and order the drink. Benjamin was back, but keeping his distance. He had also spotted Dakota lurking.<
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  He reached for the bottle.

  “You look like a guy who could use some fun.” A body that stopped next to him made him look up. The girl that stared back at him had colorful rave-ready hair. He didn’t recognize her.

  “You look like someone who doesn’t know this is a classier than average venue.” Dylan set the bottle down without taking a drink. “What’ve you got?”

  The girl slid into the chair across from him. She placed a small capsule on the far side of the table. “Have you met my friend Molly?”

  “How much are you carrying?”

  She laughed. “How much do you need?”

  “I’ll take everything you have.”

  “Two hundred and my stash is yours.”

  “Some discretion?”

  She grinned. “I’m always discreet, Big Money.” She slipped the pill she’d laid on the table back into her pocket. She waited while he folded some bills from his wallet into his palm. They made an exchange under the table. He felt her swap the cash for a baggy. She waited until he verified what was in his hand before she got up.

  “Nice doing business with you. Don’t do all that at once. Molly is a fun girl, but she can turn on you in a second.” She winked.

  Dylan shoved the pills into his pocket. “I’ve been friends with her much longer than you have. Get lost.”

  She frowned at him, but walked away. He watched her go, making sure she hadn’t held out on him. The bag had about fifteen pills in it, give or take. It felt heavy against his pelvis. He picked up the beer again, taking a drink. It tasted the way dirty socks smelled.

  “What are you doing?”

  Benjamin slid into the chair across from him.

  “Listening to the band. What are you doing?” Dylan asked.

  Benjamin took the beer away from him. “You just lost four years of sobriety with a single drink. Was it worth it?”

  “I don’t like beer,” he admitted.

  “Why would you order a drink you don’t like?”

  “I can stop after one beer. I can’t say I would stop after one cosmo, martini, or vodka tonic. All of which I prefer over this shit.” He reached, taking the bottle back. “Was I not clear when I said I’m not interested in a tag-a-long?”

  “You’re interested in fucking,” Benjamin reminded him. “I said no. You decided to get wasted tonight instead?” He held a hand out. “Give me the pills.”

  “What pills?”

  “The pills you just bought off that girl. I’m not blind or stupid. What is it? E? That was your favorite before.”

  “I’m not taking them,” Dylan said. “I bought them so she wouldn’t sell them to someone who would.”

  “You can’t buy all the drugs in the club,” Benjamin chided. “You saved, what? A dozen people from getting high? There are other sellers milling around.”

  “I’ll buy their stashes too.”

  “And do what with it?”

  “Flush it,” Dylan suggested. “Save it for when I really want to get fucked up?”

  “Give them to me.”

  “Why? I paid for them.”

  “You’re fucking annoying.” Benjamin’s professionalism slipped.

  “Not the first time I’ve ever heard that.”

  “Give me the pills or I’ll call in a report to David. Then you’ll definitely lose any say in your security detail.”

  Dylan smiled softly. “Fine.” He reached into his pocket, sliding the plastic bag to him. “Enjoy. Drink plenty of water.”

  Benjamin twisted the bag, stacking the pills in a row. He shoved the bag into the opening of the bottle. It took finagling, finally using his keys to shove it into the liquid below.

  “I’m taking this.” He held up the bottle. “Don’t buy another one.”

  Dylan watched Benjamin walk back to his stool on the end of the bar. He turned to look down over the floor below. The last opening act had given away to the techs who were setting up for Dark Little Town. He hadn’t heard them play since the day he’d gotten back to New York. It felt like a lot had happened since then.

  He wanted a different drink. Something he liked. Instead, he pushed away from the table and wandered down stairs. There wasn’t a temptation of alcohol on the lower level. He ordered a coke and leaned against the wall, just inside from the coat check. He could be one of the first people out of the club when the show was over. Maybe he’d lose Benjamin that way.

  He knew that the band couldn’t see past the first row or two of the audience. They couldn’t see as far back as he was standing. He still noticed that Tyler seemed to be trying to get a good look out into the audience, as though he was looking for someone. For him? Jordan had invited him to dinner after the show, but he wasn’t sure about going. He probably owed it to Brit to try and be social. She was visiting for his birthday after all.

  “Are you sulking?” Benjamin leaned against the wall next to him. He’d disposed of the beer bottle.

  “How do I get rid of you?” Dylan asked, sipping from his glass. “Seriously. What do I need to do?”

  “Good question,” Benjamin countered. “I suppose you start by letting me put the tracking app back on your phone. Second, you keep your sobriety promise and go to a meeting after the concert is over. There’s one at a church, down the street, at eleven.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Are you going to give me the phone?” Benjamin held out a hand. “If you at least let me do that, I’ll go right now.”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m staying.”

  “I hope you didn’t have to pay for your own ticket in,” Dylan told him.

  “Mora got me on the list at the door.”

  “Of course she did.”

  “She doesn’t know I’m here to keep an eye on you.”

  Dylan turned toward him, shouldering the wall. “You know, I never messed around with security when I was younger. David was just inside of my age limits, but he was so fucking annoying. Now I’m legal though. I don’t have limits.” He took a step closer.

  “You’re in a self-destructive mood. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe you should consider a professional therapist instead of attending addicts meetings.”

  “Probably. I bet I could get put on some real great meds too.”

  “Don’t,” Benjamin warned.

  “What? You think I couldn’t find a doctor to prescribe me something? Pot is legal now. I could just go down to a dispensary and pick that up.”

  “You don’t like pot.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. You took what I like. Not that I was going to use it. I’ll also point out that MDMA is being used in clinical studies about depression.” He shrugged. “I could look into getting to be part of one of those.”

  “What do you want?” Benjamin asked.

  The crowd shrieked as the lights went down across the venue. The members of Dark Little Town officially took the stage. Dylan felt the floor shudder as the first vibrations of their opening song thrummed across the floor.

  Dylan put his free hand to the back of Benjamin’s neck, pulling him closer. He pressed their lips together. It wasn’t romantic. Benjamin stiffened, keeping his composure. Dylan pushed on, his tongue at the man’s lips. Benjamin refused to react.

  Dylan chuckled, stepping back. “Stoic. I expected nothing less.” He turned, his back to the wall once more as he watched the band play.

  He tried to keep his eyes off Tyler, focusing on the others instead, but it was Tyler’s voice filling his ears. The vibrations of the floor moved up his legs to settle in his stomach, then shoot up his chest into his shoulders. He sank down into a crouch. He could still hear, but he couldn’t see the stage. He rested his forehead against his knees for a moment.

  He felt Benjamin sink down beside him. Their shoulders pressed together, but the man didn’t otherwise touch him or reach out. Dylan lifted his head, taking another drink of the coke. They stayed, crouched at the back wall until the end of the third song. They rose while Tyler did th
e introductions, as he usually did.

  “To my right, we have our bassist, Jordan Baxter,” Tyler’s voice rang across the room. Jordan waved and gave a short riff on his bass. “The amazing Dani Stoker on electric violin.” A long wavering note from Dani. “Behind me, is our multi-talented drummer Heath Gibson.” Heath beat out a rhythm before waving his sticks. “And I’m your lead singer and guitarist, Tyler Norse.” His fingers picked across the strings. “As most of you Townies already know, this is going to be our last show of the year. Heath is departing on an epic adventure with...Harley Unger.” The crowd cheered at the end of his dramatic pause. “Yes, we’re also big fans of Harley, which is why we were happy to lend him Heath.” More cheering and applause. “Since this is our last show for a while, we decided to do something a little special tonight.”

  Dylan knew he couldn’t see him, but he felt as though Tyler’s eyes locked onto his as he spoke.

  “There’s someone out in the audience tonight I’ve been trying to get a message to. We’ll be forgoing our encore tonight in favor of a live play of For Your Ears Only. Now, remastered with accompaniment from my best friends.” He took a step back from his microphone for a moment, his fingers still moving over the strings of his guitar as they moved into the next song. He collected himself quickly again, stepping forward once more. “One night only, just for all of you. I hope you’ll stick around for it.”

  Benjamin’s breath was warm against his ear. “You don’t have to stay.”

  “Neither do you.”

  The rest of the set went by in a blur. They played a mix of old and new; Crater Avenue and Long Ride Home, The Squishies, Laundry Day, and Polya, just to name a few. They took a bow at the end of the main set. There was a shift on the stage. The lights went down. Tyler and Dani both sat on stools. Her violin was exchanged to one without a cord. Tyler tilted his microphone down to speak to Dani for a moment beside him. She gave him a soft smile and a nod before she took up the opening notes.

  “Now’s the time to go.” Benjamin nudged Dylan with his elbow. “I can drive you home.”

  “Don’t be rude. I’m listening.” Dylan lowered his head and closed his eyes.

  “I’ll never forget the first time I saw you. Jewel bottles in the backdrop.”