Page 159 of The Menagerie

“Okay. You good to drive?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

There’s a beat of silence that stretches on for an eternity. Rowan wants to hug him, but he hesitates. Despite their near cuddling moments ago, he’s not sure if the touch would be welcome or met with trepidation. Instead he settles on trailing a hand down Mal’s arm, stopping and squeezing his palm in what he hopes is a comforting and reassuring gesture.

“Text me when you get there.”

Mal’s hand flexes when Rowan lets go. Finally Mal meets Rowan’s eyes, his so golden brown and so beautiful even in the dim light.

“I will.”

A LITTLEover twenty minutes later, as Rowan is pulling up to his apartment complex, he finds a text message from Mal.

[MS]home

[RC]Ok good

[RC]Call or text me if you need anything ok?

[MS]i will

This time Rowan believes him.

He collapses into bed, utterly exhausted and mind a hazy mess of thoughts and emotions. His body feels heavy and useless—a sack of flour left at the bottom of the pantry and slowly leaking out through a pinprick hole. It’s a feeling he’s all too familiar with, and he can only pray that he only needs a good night’s sleep to get back to feeling normal again.

THE NEXTday, Clover asks Rowan and Mal to meet her at the club to discuss the incident. It’s strange being at the club in the daytime. While it’s normally closed, she’d come in specially for the two of them, greeting them at the front door and unlocking it before ushering them inside. She leads them through the empty club, flicking on lights here and there to illuminate the way to her office. The air feels different somehow. Thicker, maybe. Or maybe it’s the anticipation and dread congealing in Rowan’s stomach and rising up to his throat.

Sitting in Clover’s office under the harsh fluorescent lights, Mal looks about as well as Rowan feels. Rowan notices him glance at his bandaged hand, then quickly flick his eyes away once Rowan curls his fingers into a fist in his lap.

“So,” Clover starts, lacing her hands together behind her desk. “As you both know, fighting is against the club’s rules and usually results in membership suspension.”

Rowan’s heart sinks as he chances a side glance at Mal, his expression hardened.

“But given the circumstances—Mal, your safeword being ignored—we’re obviously not going to take any further action.”

The relieved sigh Rowan heaves is palpable in the quiet room.

“And Steven?” Mal asks, voice stern.

“His membership is revoked with no chance of renewal,” she says, a slight smile in her eyes and voice.

“Thank Christ,” Rowan says.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Mal. And you, Rowan. We obviously do our best to avoid these types of situations when we vet prospective members, but this seems like an out-of-the-ordinary circumstance.”

“Is he gonna… press charges or anything?” Rowan asks, his temper from yesterday soothed and the potential consequences of his actions finally sinking in.

“No.”

“Woulda killed him myself if he tried anything like that,” Mal says, a fierceness in his voice that makes Rowan’s heart catch in his throat.

He wouldn’t put it past him.

Clover meets each of their eyes, and the moment she switches fromfriendback tomanageris evident. “There’s obviously no making up for this, but your membership fees will be waived for this month. Is there anything else we can do to help rectify this for you both?”

“Long as the fucker’s banned, I’m good.”

Rowan nods in agreement. “Me too.”

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