He guided Jasper past the gore and up the stairs, and ratherthan release him and give up their physical intimacy, he steered him down thehallway toward what he’d determined was Jazz’s bedroom on first glance.
“It’s the second—”
“Yeah, the one with all theneatnessandorder. I know.”
“The guest rooms aren’t a mess,” Jasper said a littledefensively.
“Sure, those are nice too, but there’s a strong uptight vibeto your room. It screams, ‘The person sleeping in here isn’t having anyorgasms!’”
“Nicky.”
“I’m just saying.” He pulled the door open. “You’re safe toopen your eyes now.”
Jasper sat on the bed, and Nicky opened the door to thesmall bathroom attached to the bedroom. It had a second door that opened to thehallway. He wet a neatly folded washcloth with cold water and brought it out toJazz, who wiped his forehead and mouth with it. “Thank you, Nicky.”
“No problem.” Nicky reached out and pushed the hair off Jazz’sforehead. His skin was sweaty, but his eyes sought Nicky’s and thevulnerability in them made Nicky’s knees feel weak. “You’re looking betteralready.”
There was a clatter from downstairs and a plaintive meowdrifted up the stairs. A scamper of feet and a wild thunder up the stairs wasfollowed by the ginger cat walking into the room with a slow, dignified gait,like she hadn’t just been spazzing out somewhere out of sight. She jumped uponto the top of Jazz’s Bible-infested bookshelf and licked her paw, cleaningthe smear of blood from her chin.
Jasper sighed and shook his head, staring at the cat fromwhere he sat on the bed. “How are you getting in?” he murmured.
“The kitchen window was open,” Nicky said. “I noticed when Ifound the head on the—”
Jazz lifted his hand and covered his mouth.
“Anyway, she must be able to leap up to the sill and getinside, but I can’t believe she dragged that bunny with her. That was agood-sized rabbit. But look at her—she’s a big lady, isn’t she? What are youfeeding her?”
“Rabbit apparently.”
Nicky laughed. He looked around the room at the cross on thewall and the rosaries hanging next to it. Three different ones. And the stackof books on the nightstand and the perfectly lined-up stack on top of the bookshelf by the cat. “Don’t you want to mess it up a little?” he said, stridingover and knocking the books askew. “Look, that’s better, right? Like a humanbeing lives here and not a robot.”
The cat purred and lifted her paw to him. Nickyinstinctively put his own hand up and she slapped it. “She gives high fives?”
“And delivers death to poor innocent bunnies. I’mconsidering whether or not she’s an agent of Satan.”
Nicky laughed. “Okay, where can I find your cleaning stuff?I can’t promise there won’t be blood stains, but I’ll do my best. I’m prettygood at dealing with blood stains actually,” he grinned and spoke withoutthinking it through. “Me and a razor hung out for a harrowing evening or two. I’vegot the hesitation marks to prove it.”
Jazz’s face blanched and he sat up, reaching for Nicky.Without giving it a second thought, Nicky stepped forward, letting Jazz circlehis wrist with still-clammy fingers. He thought for sure Jazz would check outthe marks, but he didn’t.
Instead he held on and said, “Don’t do that again, okay? Ifyou ever feel that way, call me. Day or night, wherever you are.However…however long it’s been since we’ve talked.”
“Aw, it’s okay, I was kidding.” He wasn’t, but Jazz wouldnever need to know that.
Jasper didn’t look like he believed him and he didn’t looklike he thought it was at all funny. Because it wasn’t.
“Anyway, cleaning supplies?”
“Under the kitchen sink and in the closet next to thegarage.”
“Great. Wait here and I’ll have it cleared up in a jiffy.”Nicky looked toward the cat. “And you. You sit there and think about what you’vedone.” Shemrrowedat him and he pointed his fingerat her. “Yeah. Exactly.”
Chapter Eleven
WHENNICKY LEFT, JASPER FLOPPEDback on the bed with his arms spread wide anda grin on his face. “You two are not adorable,” he said, twisting his head tolook at the cat. She licked another smear of blood off her whiskers and hegroaned. “Especially you, you murderer.”
As his stomach roiled, he tried to look at his room the wayNicky would see it and, okay, it was a little…excessively tidy. But he didn’tspend all that much time at home, and he liked to know where things were. Heclosed his eyes and remembered Nicky wandering around his childhood bedroom,picking things up and deliberately putting them down in different places.
“Once a brat…” Jasper muttered. Decisive footsteps stompedaround below, a rustle of plastic or the rush of water sometimes interruptingthe movements. It was strange to think of someone else being in thishouse—Nicky especially. He was here, in Jasper’s only real private space,wandering around like he belonged. It didn’t take long for Nicky to starthumming, and a few minutes later he was singing softly. Jasper wished he couldhear it better and he closed his eyes and strained to listen.