Redemption Chapter 14
Jensen signed his name and slid the clipboard through the pass-through slot in the Plexi-glass shield to the officer on the other side of the counter. A manila envelope came back in return and he nodded his thanks to the bored policeman, stepping away to let the person behind him have his turn. Opening the envelope, he dug his cell phone from his confiscated personal effects and thumbed the power button. The service provider logo filled the screen, blinked twice, and then went black. Jensen huffed an aggravated sigh. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d been in the city’s holding cell for three days and his battery wasn’t that great at keeping a charge to begin with. He just wanted to call and check in with Jared. When he’d asked Jake if he’d gotten a hold of Chris and Jared, the man’s face was nervous when he said that he’d talked to Chris but had not been able to reach Jared. Jake assured Jensen that Chris would get in touch with Jared, but uneasiness tingled down Jensen’s spine and made him even antsier to get home.
He’d seen Chris sitting in the back row during his bond hearing, generously set low at $40,000 because he wasn’t a flight risk, but assumed Jared had stayed behind to be with the kids. They had school today and were probably upset that he hadn’t made it home yet. Slipping the worthless device into his back pocket, he rifled through the other items, putting them away as he walked out of the station.
The bright sunshine blinded him momentarily and he blinked away the sunspots, wishing his sunglasses had been among the belongings in the envelope. A shrill whistle caught his attention and he looked over to see Chris leaning back against his truck, arms crossed. Tilting his head in acknowledgment, he smiled and quickly made his way down the steps to his friend.
“Hey,” he greeted. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Who but your best friend would come pick your ass up from jail?” Chris smiled but it was strained and the uneasiness tingling Jensen’s spine intensified. “I picked up your shit from the hotel,” he jerked his head toward the back seat where Jensen’s suitcase could be seen. “I’m ready to go when you are.”
“What about my baby?” Between Jensen’s worries over his freedom and Jared’s safety, he’d had a few cursory thoughts about his car sitting in the hotel parking lot. That car had been a present from his Pawpaw and he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to it.
“Steve came over with me yesterday and drove it back to your house. She’s fine and waiting for you to come home.”
“Where’s Jared?” Jensen felt his stomach clench. Why would Steve take the Impala to his house when he’d effectively moved in with Jared and the boys over the last few months?
“Couldn’t make it,” Chris shrugged enigmatically and Jensen’s stomach cramped.
“Where’s. Jared?” He asked again, enunciating each word so Chris would know better than to give him another flippant answer.
“Look, it’s fucking February in Denver,” Chris rubbed his hands together. “Can we continue this conversation in the car?” Without waiting for an answer, he rounded the front of the truck and slid into the driver’s seat.
Jensen stood beside the truck for a minute, listening to Chris fire the engine up, and waited to see if the bile he felt pressing against his throat would make it all the way up. He breathed slowly and surely, deep inhales with controlled exhales and when he felt the nausea was under control he slipped into the passenger seat.
It was Monday afternoon and the traffic in downtown Denver was just starting to thicken so Jensen bit his lip until they were past the city limits, letting Chris concentrate on getting them out of the capital in one piece. Once the urban buildings gave way to flat plain land, he turned in his seat to face his friend. “What happened?”
“It’s all my fault,” Chris started miserably, shaking his head slightly. “I knew something felt off, but…”
“Chris,” panic strangled the word and sped up his breathing, “what happened?”
Chris swallowed and took a calming breath and Jensen braced for the worst. “Thursday night after you talked to Jared, Welling called me to say that there was a brawl down at FireWater and I needed to get down there before he had to arrest Steve.”
“Why would he arrest Steve? Steve didn’t start the fight, did he?” Jensen had a bad feeling where this story was going.
Chris quickly explained about Ed attacking JG, Tom defending his boyfriend and Steve taking exception to Welling and Rosenbaum arresting Tom. “I didn’t want to leave Jared, but he insisted that I go and take care of Steve.” Chris let out a breath that sounded like a sob and looked at his friend with guilt-ridden eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jenny. I should never have left him.”
Jensen’s whole body went numb. “Chris,” he swallowed to regain control of his voice, “you have to tell me right now… Where are Jared and the boys?”
The muscle in Chris’ jaw ticked. “At the house,” he answered and Jensen let out a sigh of relief, wondering what all the angst was over, a moment before it was made clear, “with Olyphant.”
“Olyphant?!” Jensen gasped, his hand going to the handle on the door.
“Yeah, Olyphant,” Chris confirmed, sounding as broken as Jensen felt. “Steve closed the bar early and we went back to Jared’s. When we got there, there was some shiny, foreign, piece of shit in front of the house and a stack of boxes on the porch. We went to the door to see what was going on and Timothy answered, smiling pretty as you please. He handed us both restraining orders to stay 500 feet away from the house and Jared then told us the boxes were your things and to get them off of his property.”
“Restraining orders?” Jensen repeated, dumbly. Shaking his head irritably, he asked, “His property?”
“Yeah,” Chris huffed a humorless laugh. “Your folks, ‘Kota and Austin got ‘em too. Danneel did some digging and you’ve got one with your name on it waiting for you somewhere. Apparently, we’re all a danger to Jared and he feels his life is in jeopardy from us. Funny, though, they were issued last Tuesday. Before Timothy came back so he must have forged Jared’s signature.”
Jensen couldn’t breathe, his lungs felt like an iron fist was clamped around them, its mate clenching his heart. He licked his lips and consciously willed air in and out of his paralyzed chest. “Have,” he cleared his throat when his voice came out strained and breathy, “have you seen Jared?”
Chris shook his head. “No. Nobody has. Jared called Steve Friday morning and quit. Timothy went to the school and pulled the kids out saying he was going to have them home-schooled. From what I can tell, Jared and the boys are on full lock-down.”
“Oh, God!” Jensen leaned his head back on the headrest.
“Calm down, Jenny.” Chris soothed, gripping Jensen’s arm. “Sheriff Jones is having the department lawyer look at the restraining orders to see if there is a way around them. You’re suspended pending the outcome of this Chicago mess so he wants you to go home and lay low.”
“He’s out of his fucking mind!” Jensen exploded, his helplessness morphing into anger. “Jared was abused for years by the goddamn psychopath. He ran away because he thought Timothy was going to kill him! If Jones thinks I’m gonna sit on my thumbs while Timothy gets to prove Jared right then he’s got another thing coming!”
“No, Jensen, he doesn’t,” Chris tore his eyes from the road to level his friend with a stern glare. “Jones said if you get any closer to Jared’s house than your property line, he’ll run you in for violating the restraining order. “ At Jensen’s balking expression, Chris continued rationally. “Don’t give Timothy any ammunition. Once the lawyer has a chance to pick apart the restraining order then you can go in and beat the ever loving shit out of the bastard. Plus,” he added quietly, “life will probably be easier on Jared if you don’t piss Timothy off.”
Jensen’s mouth, open for rebuttal, snapped shut at Chris’ soft-spoken words. He could definitely see Olyphant taking his frustrations over Jensen out on Jared; he would probably consider it poetic justice or some crazy shit. He nodded his head and stared out the side window at the snow blanketed fields. “That lawyer better work pretty damn fast.”
*****
Jensen rolled onto his side, glazed eyes staring unseeingly at the television as his hand reached over the edge of the couch searching for the bottle he knew he’d set there. It had been a week since he was released from custody and had learned of the shit-storm that happened while he was incarcerated. He’d managed, somehow, the first two days, barely making it from one second to the next, mind constantly supplying images of the things Timothy could be doing to Jared and his boys. Chris, Steve and his family were stalwartly at his side to keep him from going insane or, worse, going to Jared’s and ending up in the clink again. Then came the call from the department lawyer, followed quickly by one from Jake who’d taken a look at the restraining orders as well, both agreeing that they were tight, no wiggle room. The little bubble of hope Jensen had been holding onto burst as they explained - if he set foot on Jared’s property he would be arrested, that is, if Timothy didn’t shoot him first for trespassing.
He lifted the bottle and groaned at the piddly bit of amber lining the bottom. He swallowed down the liquid fire, the burn barely registering anymore, and tossed the bottle on the coffee table, scattering a phalanx of beer bottles like bowling pins, the empty containers rolling over the sides to the hardwood floor. Stumbling to his feet, he weaved his way to the kitchen and grabbed a fresh bottle of distilled anesthetic.
On the way back to the couch, he bumped into the stack of boxes that Steve and Chris had carried from Jared’s house to his own, knocking the top two over. He’d opened them as soon as he got back from Denver, hoping for a note, something, from Jared to let him know he was okay, but all he found was a starched white piece of stationary, the stylized O preceded by a smaller T and followed by a smaller D at the top glaring up in red ink, with only the words I win written in a messy scrawl. The crumpled sheet was tossed back in the box and Jensen hadn’t bothered with the stack again.
He made his way to the couch, kicking a few of the fallen beer bottles along the way, and flopped down on the cushions, steadily sipping himself into oblivion. His dreams were filled with hazel eyes and childish laughter as the half-empty bottle slipped from his loose grip to the floor, sloshing contents spilling, seeping into the wood.
*****
“Jen?” There was an annoying knocking sound. Jensen growled his displeasure and rolled over to face the back of the couch.
“Jen?” The raps became harder and Jensen pulled the throw pillow from beneath his head to cover his face.
“Jensen!” There was a muffled grunt and the knocking stopped, but the voice was closer. The harsh clanking of glass on glass filtered through the batting over his ear and Jensen winced at the noise. The pillow was tugged away, the bright glare of morning stinging his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at Dakota standing behind him with the partially full bottle of Jack in one hand and a disgusted look on her face.
“Go away, ‘Kota,” he moaned, snagging the corner of the pillow in the hopes of hiding behind it again. He couldn’t stand the pitying look of disappointment on her face. It was one of the reasons he’d stopped answering the door two days into his bender when he saw it on the constant parade of people who insisted on stopping by to see if he was okay. How they thought he might be okay was beyond him. “Don’t need a lecture right now.”
She pulled the cushion further away from his hand and set the bottle on the table with a loud thunk, smiling at his pained groan. “You need your ass kicked, is what you need. God, it smells like the men’s room at a bar in here.” She wrinkled her pretty nose. “When was the last time you showered or had something to eat?”
Jensen shrugged lethargically, making another half-hearted attempt to grab the pillow. “What does it matter?” he muttered. “Got no job to go to or anyone to shower for.”
“Self-pity is not a good look on you, Jen.” She cleared a small spot on the coffee table and sat down facing him. “So this is the plan you devised to get Jared back? Drink yourself into a stupor? Gotta say, I don’t think it’s working all that well.”
“Fuck you, ‘Kota,” he snarled, sitting up slowly to try to keep his queasy stomach at bay. Taking a breath, he glared at his sister. “There is no getting Jared back. I can’t get within 500 feet of him or I’ll be arrested which violates my parole for the Chicago charges. Plus, I’m pretty sure Jared doesn’t want me to come for him.”
“What in the hell makes you say that?!” She yelled, her patience running thin. “Of course, Jared wants you to come for him.”
“Didn’t put up much of a fight when Timothy showed up, did he?” It had been eating at Jensen for days. Jared was a strong, mountain of a man. If he wanted to get away from Timothy, then he sure as hell could.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dakota snarked. “I’m sure Timothy is being so nice that Jared just doesn’t want to leave.” Her voice was getting louder. “I’m sure he’s not beating the tar out of Jared whenever he wants for running in the first place.” She held up her hand when Jensen opened his mouth, insistent on driving home her point. “I’m sure he didn’t threaten everything that Jared loves to make him stay.”
“ ‘Kota.”
“No, Jensen, you listen to me,” she fixed him with a cold stare, one he didn’t think she was capable of making. “That bastard has Jared’s number, knows his weaknesses. Jared would happily take any beating that asshole dished out if it meant keeping the ones he loves safe. So don’t you even,” her anger seethed through clenched teeth, “sit there and tell me that Jared is staying of his own free will, because you and I both know that it’s a lie.”
Jensen was humbled, but refused to admit his sister was right. He was angry and hurt, the separation from Jared and the boys like a physical pain he couldn’t soothe, and he needed someone to blame. Someone to aim his feelings at so they wouldn’t consume him whole. If she wouldn’t let Jared be a target, then he’d go to the next best thing. He turned narrowed, hate-filled eyes at his baby sister, his voice cold and callous. “None of this would have happened, if you’d kept your goddamn nose out of it six years ago.”
She shuddered at the venom in his tone and sucked her lips into her mouth to keep them from trembling. She nodded in agreement, the tears clinging to her bottom lids spilling over the edge and making wet tracks through the powder and rouge on her cheeks. “You’re right,” she mumbled brokenly and Jensen’s anger doubled. She sounded like Chris in the car ride from Denver - sorrowful and heart-broken. Didn’t they realize they had no right to feel that way? This was their faults - Dakota for being selfish all those years ago and Chris for leaving Jared alone. They should be guilty, ashamed, not mournful.
“You bet your ass I’m fucking right!” He snatched the bottle from the table, done with this conversation.
Dakota grabbed it back, throwing it into the fireplace where it smashed against the stone. “Yes, you’re right, but at least I’m trying to do something to redeem myself.”
“Too little, too late,” Jensen scoffed, trying to stand only to lose his balance and sit back down hard.
“It might be,” she conceded, “but it’s a hell of a lot more than you’re doing unless you consider pickling your liver as productive!”
“ ‘Kota,” he licked his lips, gaze fixed on his clasped hands hanging between his knees. Closing his eyes and bit his upper lip, “it hurts to think,” he looked up at her, eyes shiny with unshed tears, “it hurts to breathe. There is this…ache, all the time. Like,” his voice broke, his fist coming up to press hard against his chest as his eyes fluttered closed again. “Like my soul died and forgot to tell my body.”
“Jensen,” she knelt down between his legs, hands coming up to cup his face. “I know it hurts and I’m so sorry.” Liquid salt rained from two sets of green eyes. “But if you want your family back, you’ve got to sober up, get your shit together and fight for them.” She pulled him in for a tight hug, smoothing her hands over his back. “We weren’t there for Jared the last time, but we’re here now. He needs us.”
He nodded his head into the crook of her neck, sniffling. A sudden wave of nausea assaulted him and he pushed her back forcefully, making it to the bathroom in time for four days worth of alcohol to make a reappearance.
*****
The first night was hell, leaving Jensen in a constant state of misery between sweating out the alcohol and his stomach getting its revenge for his mostly liquid diet of late. He was aware sometime in the night that Austin joined them, the soothing words floating past the pounding in his head alternating between masculine comfort and feminine nurture.
He woke near dawn, ‘Kota lying next to him and wiping his face with a cool cloth that felt heavenly on his heated skin. He’d kept down the chicken broth she brought in a little while ago and he fervently hoped that it stayed down. The cloth disappeared and a glass was pressed to his lips. He managed a few thirsty gulps before she pulled it away.
“Where’s,” he cleared his throat, the membranes feeling raw and tender. “Where’s Austin?”
“Sleeping,” she sighed. “He found your sleeping bags in with the camping stuff, so he’s sacked on the floor.” She jutted her chin to Jensen’s side of the bed and he rolled enough to see his brother sound asleep on a makeshift palette.
“Why didn’t he take the couch?”
“I’m not sure there’s any hope for your couch,” her face pinched in disgust, “we may have to burn it.”
“Damn, I liked that couch, too.” He hesitantly shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position.
“We’ll have a memorial,” she smiled. “Give it a proper send-off. How’re you feeling?”
Jensen lay still for a minute, taking stock of his body. “I’m okay. Listen, ‘Kota.”
She shook her head, a finger coming up to press against his lips. “I’m surprised it took you that long to unleash on me about it. Knowing you the way I do, I think that had more to do with Jared than anything else.”
His fingers wrapped gently around her wrist and pulled her finger away from his mouth. “I still shouldn’t have said those things. I wasn’t even really angry at you, just…angry in general.”
“It’s okay, Jensen. I deserved it and so much more. Trust me, you can’t hate me anymore than I hate myself.” She averted her eyes to the ceiling, moisture glistening along her lower lashes as she tried to blink away the impending tears.
“I don’t hate you; never did,” he pulled her close, arms encircling her in a hug, “and neither does Jared.”
She stifled a sniffle in his chest. “Thanks.” They lay that way for a few minutes, giving and taking comfort in equal measures, until Jensen heard Dakota sniff then sniff again. She drew back from him.
“Jen, I love you and all, but, dude, you gotta take a shower ASAP.”
“Oh, jeez,” he pushed her away with a palm to the forehead, “I’ve seen some of your dates, you should be used to it.”
She shook her head at the jibe, “I do love you, Jen. We’ll figure this out.”
“Love you, too, sis.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“If you two are done braiding each other’s hair, will you please. Shut. The fuck. Up. And go to sleep,” Austin’s groggy voice floated up from the floor.
Jensen and Dakota’s eyes widened and they tried to suppress their giggles.
“God,” Austin irritably turned his head from side to side, mashing the pillow until he was comfortable, “you two are worse than Hunter and Dalton.”
Jensen and Dakota’s smiles widened. “Good night, Austin,” the sing-songed in chorus.
“Ugh,” Austin pulled his pillow out from under him and shoved it over his head. Some things never changed.
*****
“Morning, little bro,” Austin greeted him cheerfully as he came into the kitchen fresh from the shower. “Feeling better?”
“Almost human,” Jensen’s voice was still rough, days of disuse and alcohol abuse followed by the Great Purging, as he was calling it in his mind, taking their toll. “Coffee fresh?”
“Yeah, I made it about a half hour ago.”
Jensen went to the coffee maker and grabbed a mug from the cabinet above, trying to ignore the way his hand had automatically gone to pull out a second mug. He heard a thump followed quickly by a pained groan and turned to see Dakota frowning at the door jamb like it had personally wronged her. “Wall jump out and get ya?”
Eyes still heavily lidded with sleep, she flipped him off. “Coffee,” she moaned, sitting next to Austin at the table with her head in her hands.
He snagged another mug from the shelf, consciously stopping his hand from adding a third teaspoon of sugar like it was used to doing. He nudged her gently with his arm and handed her the steaming cup, sitting down across from them with his own.
“I, uh, I just wanted to thank you guys for, you know, yesterday and last night.” He circled his fingers around the ceramic, letting the liquid warm his cool fingers.
“You should be kissing our asses, if ‘Kota hadn’t come over when she did you’d probably be dead from alcohol poisoning right now.” Austin stood up and took his empty cup to the sink.
Jensen stared at the butcher block table top, eyes skimming over the interlocking rectangles. He knew Austin wasn’t far off, judging by the amount of sour, whisky scented flop sweat he’d washed off his body in the shower this morning.
“What’s the plan for today?” Dakota sipped her coffee, hmmming in pleasure.
“You should go back to bed,” Austin frowned at the dark circles under his baby sister’s eyes. She’d stayed up half the night, tending to Jensen. “I’ve got 100 cows waiting to be milked so I’m going to work. Especially since the farm was used as collateral for your bail.” Austin washed his hands and wiped them clean on a dishtowel.
“You used the farm for my bail?” Jensen’s eyebrows shot up.
“Technically you own a fifth of it so consider your portion in hock.” Austin shrugged like he hadn’t placed his life’s work in jeopardy to get his little brother out of jail. The farm had been in the family for generations and Austin had taken over managing it ten years ago when their Uncle Joshua, his namesake, had been killed. The farm legally belonged to the living members of the Ackles family, but they deferred daily operations and major decisions to Austin.
“Let me go in and help you then. Might as well make myself useful,” Jensen started to stand, taking a few quick swallows of his coffee.
“Tomorrow,” Austin shook his head. “Today you need to finish your detox, Betty Ford, and clean up this pigsty. I think you’ll need a bucket of bleach for the living room alone.”
Jensen groaned, his head thudding against the table.
Austin clapped him on the shoulder as he left and Dakota offered a sympathetic smile as she disappeared into the bedroom to catch a couple more hours of sleep. Jensen got up and retrieved the bucket from under the sink and the cleaner.
*****
“You sure Dakota and Austin okayed you coming out tonight? Way they talked, you were basically 80 proof two nights ago.” Chris plunked down on the stool next to him, eying his friend suspiciously.
Jensen shifted uncomfortably on his stool. “I’m a grown man. Don’t need permission from them to come out,” he grumbled. “Anyway it was their idea, thought the distraction,” he waved his hand toward the stage where Steve was setting up for him and Chris to play a few songs, “might help, so long as the strongest thing I drink is soda,” he meekly raised his glass of Coke.
Chris chuckled, signaling for Joseph to get him one as well. “Speaking of distractions, I heard you helped Austin out on the farm today. Gotta say, man, I’m impressed.” He nodded his thanks when an iced glass of soda appeared in front of him. He absently noted that the bruising on Joseph’s face was fading into the jaundiced shade of healing.
“Dude, you forget. I was a farm boy long before I was a cop. I grew up in that barn.” Jensen defended, watching Joseph and Tom talking intimately at the end of the bar from the corner of his eye. He didn’t miss the way Tom’s hand would come up and lightly trace the remaining evidence of Ed’s attack.
Chris followed his gaze and smirked at the town’s newest lovebirds. Taking a sip of his Coke and wishing it had a little less ice and a lot more rum, he looked at his friend. “Heard anything from Jake?”
“Day before yesterday while I was completing my rehab,” Jensen nodded at Tom when he noticed Jensen watching them. “Turns out that the renewal application on the Treble’s work visas had been flagged for review due to a technicality, a technicality that magically resolved itself the day after they signed their statements.”
“That’s interesting.”
“It gets better,” Jensen gave him a tight smile. “The two guys, Phillips and McArthur? Well, Phillips, he’d gotten himself in a little trouble for solicitation since I knew him.”
“Let me guess; the charges disappeared after he testified?” Chris shook his head in disbelief.
“Yep,” Jensen answered, lips popping the last consonant for effect.
“And McArthur?”
“Nothing on him, but Jake found where his baby-momma had a sizeable sum of money deposited in her account.” Eyebrows rose over sparkling green eyes.
“So Jake’s petitioning for a dismissal?” Chris couldn’t understand why Jensen wasn’t more stoked about the news.
“Not yet,” Jensen sighed. “Olyphant ain’t stupid. He covered his tracks pretty well, so right now Jake’s following the leads. He wants to bring Olyphant down. He’s looking into the possib - “ Jensen was cut off when someone sat down hard on the stool next to him, jostling his body and forcing him to spill his drink over his hand. Flinging the sticky soda from his fingers, Jensen scowled at the inconsiderateness of the new-comer.
“Jensen!” A warm, slightly sour breath ghosted over Jensen’s cheek and he flinched away, not realizing that the stranger had gotten so close. “Don’t be like that,” the voice purred and recognition hit Jensen.
“Ed?” He turned to see the dark-haired man smiling at him, his casted right arm propped against the bar. He quickly shot a glance at Tom who was staring at Ed with clenched teeth and a murderous look in his eyes while Joseph patted his forearm consolingly. It was in that moment that Jensen decided Ed was the dumbest motherfucker to ever walk the face of the Earth.
“You’re not welcome in here anymore,” Chris stood, his eyes cutting to Steve still setting things up on stage, oblivious to the banned man’s presence. He and Steve might not have been quite as mad at Ed as Tom was but it wasn’t by much.
“Not welcome?” Ed asked with an innocent bat of his eyelashes, his hand stroking down Jensen’s back not deterred when Jensen shifted away. “Why not? You still let that gorilla in here.” He gestured over to where Tom was glaring daggers at him.
“He didn’t attack one of the employees and then cause a riot that forced the bar to shut down for the night,” Chris retorted, hoping to get rid of the asshole before Steve noticed him. Steve, and Chris to some extent, blamed Ed for Timothy being able to get to Jared. If he hadn’t started the fight that night, then Chris would never have left.
“Oh, please,” Ed rolled his eyes, moving closer to nuzzle against Jensen’s neck. “That was a high school rivalry that got out of hand. Anyway, I just came in to see Jensen.”
“Me?” Jensen batted Ed’s face away like the annoying fly he was, inwardly cursing his Impala’s conspicuousness.
“Yeah,” he smiled coyly, finger tracing the seam of Jensen’s shirt sleeve. “I was wondering if you’d like to sign my cast.”
“What the…” Jensen was taken aback by the juvenile request. “No!” He shook his head, forehead creased in incredulity. “Why can’t you understand that I don’t want anything from you? I’m with Jared. I love Jared. End of story.”
“But…”
“Look, Ed,” he leveled the man with a serious stare, “if I was you, I’d get out of here before Tom breaks your other arm.”
“Or has another go at your jaw. Of course, personally, I would welcome the silence.” Chris sat down. Steve had gone into the storeroom and now that Chris didn’t have to worry about his partner going to jail, he was able to focus his own anger at the young man.
“You’re with Jared, end of story, huh?” Ed’s inviting expression turned dark, something unreadable and sinister brewing behind his eyes. “How’s that working for you now that Timothy is back in the picture?”
Chris and Jensen’s heads turned at the same time, snapping to the smug looking man. “Timothy?” Jensen repeated, voice eerily calm with a hint of mild curiosity. People around town knew that Jared’s ex was in town, but only a handful of trusted people actually knew the man’s name and Ed definitely wasn’t among that privileged few.
“Yeah,” Ed snarked, “his ex-boyfriend. How exactly are you with Jared, if he’s shacked back up with Olyphant?”
Anger pulsed hot through Jensen’s body, his frame shuddering under the onslaught. He gripped his soda glass hard and narrowed his eyes at Ed. “What did you do?” he snarled, low and threateningly.
“What?” Ed’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“What. Did. You. Do?” Jensen repeated through gritted teeth.
“N-nothing,” Ed stammered, scared at the feral look on Jensen’s face.
Chris could feel the building rage radiating off Jensen and the fury boiling his own blood. He studied Ed carefully and then he saw it. Ed’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second to Tom. Chris looked Ed over, the cast on his right arm, the purplish green bruise along his jaw, the remaining traces of the black eyes from his broken nose. Realization flowed over him. Son…of…a…bitch. He and Steve were more right then they knew. He jumped to his feet, the stool he’d been sitting on toppling over at the abrupt movement. “You motherfucker,” he hissed. “You started that fight on purpose.” The pieces were clicking into place. “Started it so I would leave Jared alone that night.” He moved closer to the young man whose eyes grew wider with fear at each sentence. “You’d been coming in here for weeks, Jared said so himself. You were watching him, taking notes. You knew that Jared would tell me to go if his friends were in danger.”
Jensen looked from Chris’s epiphany-awed, ire-riddled face to Ed’s frightened, pale one. There was no question that Chris was right, the answer written plainly in the sweat trails that were developing under Ed’s hairline. Jensen’s mind went blank, a veil of red clouding his thoughts, and he lunged off his stool at the scared man. Before he could touch him, Ed was yanked away, the space he’d occupied now empty.
Surprise paralyzed Jensen for a minute, growls and yelps of pain finally reviving him. He glanced down to see Ed sprawled on his back, Steve’s thick, muscled legs straddling his chest and knees pinning his upper arms. Punches rained down over Ed’s face and head in a blur, Steve’s normally jovial voice menacing as it maintained a constant stream of insults and curses.
“You asshole!” Steve snarled, spittle landing on Ed’s face. “You set this all up?! Do you realize what you’ve done? How could you? You sent that Jared and those boys back to that abusive motherfucker!” The words were hard to distinguish over the meaty thuds of fists hitting flesh and Ed’s whimpers.
Chris and Jensen stood shocked as Ed suffered Steve’s wrath. Finally, Joseph’s voice broke their impressed stares, his eyes wide staring at the scene from around the bulky shield of Tom.
“He’s gonna kill him!”
They each hooked an arm under Steve’s armpits, bobbing to avoid moving arms, and dragged Steve back away from the supine man. They manhandled him onto a bar stool, leaving grounding hands on his shaking shoulders. Jensen glanced at the patrons as Chris murmured soft words in Steve’s ear, soothing his partner’s blood lust.
Ed wiped a hand across his mouth, a streak of red coating his fingers when he pulled them away. “Yes, I set it up. It was my plan! I knew that fucking oaf would send Chris down here - too damn self-sacrificing for his own good - and I was right,” he sneered. “He’s too weak for you, Jensen. You deserve someone better, stronger. Someone like me!”
“You think Jared’s weak because he puts his friends first?!” Tom’s roar silenced what little noise there still was in the bar. He loomed over the downed man, fist clenching and unclenching, with Joseph’s restraining hand on his arm.
“Where did it get him? Huh?” Ed’s voice was strong, but Jensen could see the fear in his eyes, more than likely remembering being on the receiving end of Tom’s anger before. Ed’s gaze landed back on Jensen. “I hope that Timothy fucks him up good. You know he was so angry, I bet he beat him that very night. And there’s not a damned thing you can do about it!” Ed laughed darkly. “You might not want me, but I made sure you can’t have him either.”
Jensen’s fist closed, his jaw clamped tight, breathing hard and heavy. “You son of a bitch!” He lunged forward, probation be damned, only to be stopped by Chris, the broad shouldered man’s face a warning.
“He’s just trying to bait you,” Chris mumbled.
Jensen’s chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing. Looking around, he noticed the locals watching in interested silence, quiet murmurs confirming small town gossip falling from their lips. Just because Wowakan was a small town didn’t mean the residents were naïve, most had at least a notion of what was happening with Jared. The sneering looks, the townsfolk threw toward Ed made it clear they felt justice had been served for any part he might have played in Jared’s situation. There were a couple of unfamiliar faces, cellphones pressed to their ears, and Jensen heaved a sigh, knowing exactly who they were calling.
“We’re gonna have company in less than five,” he muttered to Chris, eyes volleying to the good Samaritans.
“Shit,” Chris groaned, eyes closing and head shaking.
“What?” Steve asked numbly, staring at the blood on his knuckles with a frown.
“Well,” Chris began, “in about four minutes Welling and Rosenbaum are going to be here and I have a feeling this little prick,” he lightly kicked Ed’s shoe with his boot, “will press charges.”
“You’re goddamn right I will,” Ed spat bloody saliva on the floor.
“Shut up,” Jensen snapped.
“I’m…going… to jail.” Steve stated slowly, the tone held a hint of confusion but the words weren’t said as a question.
“Fraid so, babe,” Chris took Steve’s hands in his and inspected the knuckles to ensure that the blood wasn’t Steve’s. He smiled at Joseph when he nudged Chris’s arm with a wet towel.
“That’s,” Steve hissed when Chris swiped the harsh terrycloth bar rag across his swollen skin.
“It’ll be okay,” Chris cooed, wiping the last vestiges of crimson from Steve’s hands.
“That’s awesome!” Steve’s exclamation had the friends’ attention snapping to him.
“It’s awesome that you’re going to jail?” Chris frowned at his lover in worry.
Steve simply shrugged. “It was on my bucket list. Guess I can cross that one off now.”
Chris shook his head and chuckled. “You are a strange man and I love you for it.” He leaned over and kissed Steve just as the front door opened to allow in two of Plains County’s finest.
Welling made his way through the crowd to where Jensen stood beside Chris and Steve, who were kissing, Steve’s knuckles red and swollen, over a badly beaten Ed Westwick.
“This is starting to become a habit,” Welling grumbled, unclipping his handcuff from his belt, knowing somebody was going to be leaving in them. He’d heard the rumors circulating through their community and he was getting really tired of arresting good people, his friends, when there were others out there that deserved it so much more.
Part B
He’d seen Chris sitting in the back row during his bond hearing, generously set low at $40,000 because he wasn’t a flight risk, but assumed Jared had stayed behind to be with the kids. They had school today and were probably upset that he hadn’t made it home yet. Slipping the worthless device into his back pocket, he rifled through the other items, putting them away as he walked out of the station.
The bright sunshine blinded him momentarily and he blinked away the sunspots, wishing his sunglasses had been among the belongings in the envelope. A shrill whistle caught his attention and he looked over to see Chris leaning back against his truck, arms crossed. Tilting his head in acknowledgment, he smiled and quickly made his way down the steps to his friend.
“Hey,” he greeted. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Who but your best friend would come pick your ass up from jail?” Chris smiled but it was strained and the uneasiness tingling Jensen’s spine intensified. “I picked up your shit from the hotel,” he jerked his head toward the back seat where Jensen’s suitcase could be seen. “I’m ready to go when you are.”
“What about my baby?” Between Jensen’s worries over his freedom and Jared’s safety, he’d had a few cursory thoughts about his car sitting in the hotel parking lot. That car had been a present from his Pawpaw and he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to it.
“Steve came over with me yesterday and drove it back to your house. She’s fine and waiting for you to come home.”
“Where’s Jared?” Jensen felt his stomach clench. Why would Steve take the Impala to his house when he’d effectively moved in with Jared and the boys over the last few months?
“Couldn’t make it,” Chris shrugged enigmatically and Jensen’s stomach cramped.
“Where’s. Jared?” He asked again, enunciating each word so Chris would know better than to give him another flippant answer.
“Look, it’s fucking February in Denver,” Chris rubbed his hands together. “Can we continue this conversation in the car?” Without waiting for an answer, he rounded the front of the truck and slid into the driver’s seat.
Jensen stood beside the truck for a minute, listening to Chris fire the engine up, and waited to see if the bile he felt pressing against his throat would make it all the way up. He breathed slowly and surely, deep inhales with controlled exhales and when he felt the nausea was under control he slipped into the passenger seat.
It was Monday afternoon and the traffic in downtown Denver was just starting to thicken so Jensen bit his lip until they were past the city limits, letting Chris concentrate on getting them out of the capital in one piece. Once the urban buildings gave way to flat plain land, he turned in his seat to face his friend. “What happened?”
“It’s all my fault,” Chris started miserably, shaking his head slightly. “I knew something felt off, but…”
“Chris,” panic strangled the word and sped up his breathing, “what happened?”
Chris swallowed and took a calming breath and Jensen braced for the worst. “Thursday night after you talked to Jared, Welling called me to say that there was a brawl down at FireWater and I needed to get down there before he had to arrest Steve.”
“Why would he arrest Steve? Steve didn’t start the fight, did he?” Jensen had a bad feeling where this story was going.
Chris quickly explained about Ed attacking JG, Tom defending his boyfriend and Steve taking exception to Welling and Rosenbaum arresting Tom. “I didn’t want to leave Jared, but he insisted that I go and take care of Steve.” Chris let out a breath that sounded like a sob and looked at his friend with guilt-ridden eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jenny. I should never have left him.”
Jensen’s whole body went numb. “Chris,” he swallowed to regain control of his voice, “you have to tell me right now… Where are Jared and the boys?”
The muscle in Chris’ jaw ticked. “At the house,” he answered and Jensen let out a sigh of relief, wondering what all the angst was over, a moment before it was made clear, “with Olyphant.”
“Olyphant?!” Jensen gasped, his hand going to the handle on the door.
“Yeah, Olyphant,” Chris confirmed, sounding as broken as Jensen felt. “Steve closed the bar early and we went back to Jared’s. When we got there, there was some shiny, foreign, piece of shit in front of the house and a stack of boxes on the porch. We went to the door to see what was going on and Timothy answered, smiling pretty as you please. He handed us both restraining orders to stay 500 feet away from the house and Jared then told us the boxes were your things and to get them off of his property.”
“Restraining orders?” Jensen repeated, dumbly. Shaking his head irritably, he asked, “His property?”
“Yeah,” Chris huffed a humorless laugh. “Your folks, ‘Kota and Austin got ‘em too. Danneel did some digging and you’ve got one with your name on it waiting for you somewhere. Apparently, we’re all a danger to Jared and he feels his life is in jeopardy from us. Funny, though, they were issued last Tuesday. Before Timothy came back so he must have forged Jared’s signature.”
Jensen couldn’t breathe, his lungs felt like an iron fist was clamped around them, its mate clenching his heart. He licked his lips and consciously willed air in and out of his paralyzed chest. “Have,” he cleared his throat when his voice came out strained and breathy, “have you seen Jared?”
Chris shook his head. “No. Nobody has. Jared called Steve Friday morning and quit. Timothy went to the school and pulled the kids out saying he was going to have them home-schooled. From what I can tell, Jared and the boys are on full lock-down.”
“Oh, God!” Jensen leaned his head back on the headrest.
“Calm down, Jenny.” Chris soothed, gripping Jensen’s arm. “Sheriff Jones is having the department lawyer look at the restraining orders to see if there is a way around them. You’re suspended pending the outcome of this Chicago mess so he wants you to go home and lay low.”
“He’s out of his fucking mind!” Jensen exploded, his helplessness morphing into anger. “Jared was abused for years by the goddamn psychopath. He ran away because he thought Timothy was going to kill him! If Jones thinks I’m gonna sit on my thumbs while Timothy gets to prove Jared right then he’s got another thing coming!”
“No, Jensen, he doesn’t,” Chris tore his eyes from the road to level his friend with a stern glare. “Jones said if you get any closer to Jared’s house than your property line, he’ll run you in for violating the restraining order. “ At Jensen’s balking expression, Chris continued rationally. “Don’t give Timothy any ammunition. Once the lawyer has a chance to pick apart the restraining order then you can go in and beat the ever loving shit out of the bastard. Plus,” he added quietly, “life will probably be easier on Jared if you don’t piss Timothy off.”
Jensen’s mouth, open for rebuttal, snapped shut at Chris’ soft-spoken words. He could definitely see Olyphant taking his frustrations over Jensen out on Jared; he would probably consider it poetic justice or some crazy shit. He nodded his head and stared out the side window at the snow blanketed fields. “That lawyer better work pretty damn fast.”
*****
Jensen rolled onto his side, glazed eyes staring unseeingly at the television as his hand reached over the edge of the couch searching for the bottle he knew he’d set there. It had been a week since he was released from custody and had learned of the shit-storm that happened while he was incarcerated. He’d managed, somehow, the first two days, barely making it from one second to the next, mind constantly supplying images of the things Timothy could be doing to Jared and his boys. Chris, Steve and his family were stalwartly at his side to keep him from going insane or, worse, going to Jared’s and ending up in the clink again. Then came the call from the department lawyer, followed quickly by one from Jake who’d taken a look at the restraining orders as well, both agreeing that they were tight, no wiggle room. The little bubble of hope Jensen had been holding onto burst as they explained - if he set foot on Jared’s property he would be arrested, that is, if Timothy didn’t shoot him first for trespassing.
He lifted the bottle and groaned at the piddly bit of amber lining the bottom. He swallowed down the liquid fire, the burn barely registering anymore, and tossed the bottle on the coffee table, scattering a phalanx of beer bottles like bowling pins, the empty containers rolling over the sides to the hardwood floor. Stumbling to his feet, he weaved his way to the kitchen and grabbed a fresh bottle of distilled anesthetic.
On the way back to the couch, he bumped into the stack of boxes that Steve and Chris had carried from Jared’s house to his own, knocking the top two over. He’d opened them as soon as he got back from Denver, hoping for a note, something, from Jared to let him know he was okay, but all he found was a starched white piece of stationary, the stylized O preceded by a smaller T and followed by a smaller D at the top glaring up in red ink, with only the words I win written in a messy scrawl. The crumpled sheet was tossed back in the box and Jensen hadn’t bothered with the stack again.
He made his way to the couch, kicking a few of the fallen beer bottles along the way, and flopped down on the cushions, steadily sipping himself into oblivion. His dreams were filled with hazel eyes and childish laughter as the half-empty bottle slipped from his loose grip to the floor, sloshing contents spilling, seeping into the wood.
*****
“Jen?” There was an annoying knocking sound. Jensen growled his displeasure and rolled over to face the back of the couch.
“Jen?” The raps became harder and Jensen pulled the throw pillow from beneath his head to cover his face.
“Jensen!” There was a muffled grunt and the knocking stopped, but the voice was closer. The harsh clanking of glass on glass filtered through the batting over his ear and Jensen winced at the noise. The pillow was tugged away, the bright glare of morning stinging his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at Dakota standing behind him with the partially full bottle of Jack in one hand and a disgusted look on her face.
“Go away, ‘Kota,” he moaned, snagging the corner of the pillow in the hopes of hiding behind it again. He couldn’t stand the pitying look of disappointment on her face. It was one of the reasons he’d stopped answering the door two days into his bender when he saw it on the constant parade of people who insisted on stopping by to see if he was okay. How they thought he might be okay was beyond him. “Don’t need a lecture right now.”
She pulled the cushion further away from his hand and set the bottle on the table with a loud thunk, smiling at his pained groan. “You need your ass kicked, is what you need. God, it smells like the men’s room at a bar in here.” She wrinkled her pretty nose. “When was the last time you showered or had something to eat?”
Jensen shrugged lethargically, making another half-hearted attempt to grab the pillow. “What does it matter?” he muttered. “Got no job to go to or anyone to shower for.”
“Self-pity is not a good look on you, Jen.” She cleared a small spot on the coffee table and sat down facing him. “So this is the plan you devised to get Jared back? Drink yourself into a stupor? Gotta say, I don’t think it’s working all that well.”
“Fuck you, ‘Kota,” he snarled, sitting up slowly to try to keep his queasy stomach at bay. Taking a breath, he glared at his sister. “There is no getting Jared back. I can’t get within 500 feet of him or I’ll be arrested which violates my parole for the Chicago charges. Plus, I’m pretty sure Jared doesn’t want me to come for him.”
“What in the hell makes you say that?!” She yelled, her patience running thin. “Of course, Jared wants you to come for him.”
“Didn’t put up much of a fight when Timothy showed up, did he?” It had been eating at Jensen for days. Jared was a strong, mountain of a man. If he wanted to get away from Timothy, then he sure as hell could.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dakota snarked. “I’m sure Timothy is being so nice that Jared just doesn’t want to leave.” Her voice was getting louder. “I’m sure he’s not beating the tar out of Jared whenever he wants for running in the first place.” She held up her hand when Jensen opened his mouth, insistent on driving home her point. “I’m sure he didn’t threaten everything that Jared loves to make him stay.”
“ ‘Kota.”
“No, Jensen, you listen to me,” she fixed him with a cold stare, one he didn’t think she was capable of making. “That bastard has Jared’s number, knows his weaknesses. Jared would happily take any beating that asshole dished out if it meant keeping the ones he loves safe. So don’t you even,” her anger seethed through clenched teeth, “sit there and tell me that Jared is staying of his own free will, because you and I both know that it’s a lie.”
Jensen was humbled, but refused to admit his sister was right. He was angry and hurt, the separation from Jared and the boys like a physical pain he couldn’t soothe, and he needed someone to blame. Someone to aim his feelings at so they wouldn’t consume him whole. If she wouldn’t let Jared be a target, then he’d go to the next best thing. He turned narrowed, hate-filled eyes at his baby sister, his voice cold and callous. “None of this would have happened, if you’d kept your goddamn nose out of it six years ago.”
She shuddered at the venom in his tone and sucked her lips into her mouth to keep them from trembling. She nodded in agreement, the tears clinging to her bottom lids spilling over the edge and making wet tracks through the powder and rouge on her cheeks. “You’re right,” she mumbled brokenly and Jensen’s anger doubled. She sounded like Chris in the car ride from Denver - sorrowful and heart-broken. Didn’t they realize they had no right to feel that way? This was their faults - Dakota for being selfish all those years ago and Chris for leaving Jared alone. They should be guilty, ashamed, not mournful.
“You bet your ass I’m fucking right!” He snatched the bottle from the table, done with this conversation.
Dakota grabbed it back, throwing it into the fireplace where it smashed against the stone. “Yes, you’re right, but at least I’m trying to do something to redeem myself.”
“Too little, too late,” Jensen scoffed, trying to stand only to lose his balance and sit back down hard.
“It might be,” she conceded, “but it’s a hell of a lot more than you’re doing unless you consider pickling your liver as productive!”
“ ‘Kota,” he licked his lips, gaze fixed on his clasped hands hanging between his knees. Closing his eyes and bit his upper lip, “it hurts to think,” he looked up at her, eyes shiny with unshed tears, “it hurts to breathe. There is this…ache, all the time. Like,” his voice broke, his fist coming up to press hard against his chest as his eyes fluttered closed again. “Like my soul died and forgot to tell my body.”
“Jensen,” she knelt down between his legs, hands coming up to cup his face. “I know it hurts and I’m so sorry.” Liquid salt rained from two sets of green eyes. “But if you want your family back, you’ve got to sober up, get your shit together and fight for them.” She pulled him in for a tight hug, smoothing her hands over his back. “We weren’t there for Jared the last time, but we’re here now. He needs us.”
He nodded his head into the crook of her neck, sniffling. A sudden wave of nausea assaulted him and he pushed her back forcefully, making it to the bathroom in time for four days worth of alcohol to make a reappearance.
*****
The first night was hell, leaving Jensen in a constant state of misery between sweating out the alcohol and his stomach getting its revenge for his mostly liquid diet of late. He was aware sometime in the night that Austin joined them, the soothing words floating past the pounding in his head alternating between masculine comfort and feminine nurture.
He woke near dawn, ‘Kota lying next to him and wiping his face with a cool cloth that felt heavenly on his heated skin. He’d kept down the chicken broth she brought in a little while ago and he fervently hoped that it stayed down. The cloth disappeared and a glass was pressed to his lips. He managed a few thirsty gulps before she pulled it away.
“Where’s,” he cleared his throat, the membranes feeling raw and tender. “Where’s Austin?”
“Sleeping,” she sighed. “He found your sleeping bags in with the camping stuff, so he’s sacked on the floor.” She jutted her chin to Jensen’s side of the bed and he rolled enough to see his brother sound asleep on a makeshift palette.
“Why didn’t he take the couch?”
“I’m not sure there’s any hope for your couch,” her face pinched in disgust, “we may have to burn it.”
“Damn, I liked that couch, too.” He hesitantly shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position.
“We’ll have a memorial,” she smiled. “Give it a proper send-off. How’re you feeling?”
Jensen lay still for a minute, taking stock of his body. “I’m okay. Listen, ‘Kota.”
She shook her head, a finger coming up to press against his lips. “I’m surprised it took you that long to unleash on me about it. Knowing you the way I do, I think that had more to do with Jared than anything else.”
His fingers wrapped gently around her wrist and pulled her finger away from his mouth. “I still shouldn’t have said those things. I wasn’t even really angry at you, just…angry in general.”
“It’s okay, Jensen. I deserved it and so much more. Trust me, you can’t hate me anymore than I hate myself.” She averted her eyes to the ceiling, moisture glistening along her lower lashes as she tried to blink away the impending tears.
“I don’t hate you; never did,” he pulled her close, arms encircling her in a hug, “and neither does Jared.”
She stifled a sniffle in his chest. “Thanks.” They lay that way for a few minutes, giving and taking comfort in equal measures, until Jensen heard Dakota sniff then sniff again. She drew back from him.
“Jen, I love you and all, but, dude, you gotta take a shower ASAP.”
“Oh, jeez,” he pushed her away with a palm to the forehead, “I’ve seen some of your dates, you should be used to it.”
She shook her head at the jibe, “I do love you, Jen. We’ll figure this out.”
“Love you, too, sis.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“If you two are done braiding each other’s hair, will you please. Shut. The fuck. Up. And go to sleep,” Austin’s groggy voice floated up from the floor.
Jensen and Dakota’s eyes widened and they tried to suppress their giggles.
“God,” Austin irritably turned his head from side to side, mashing the pillow until he was comfortable, “you two are worse than Hunter and Dalton.”
Jensen and Dakota’s smiles widened. “Good night, Austin,” the sing-songed in chorus.
“Ugh,” Austin pulled his pillow out from under him and shoved it over his head. Some things never changed.
*****
“Morning, little bro,” Austin greeted him cheerfully as he came into the kitchen fresh from the shower. “Feeling better?”
“Almost human,” Jensen’s voice was still rough, days of disuse and alcohol abuse followed by the Great Purging, as he was calling it in his mind, taking their toll. “Coffee fresh?”
“Yeah, I made it about a half hour ago.”
Jensen went to the coffee maker and grabbed a mug from the cabinet above, trying to ignore the way his hand had automatically gone to pull out a second mug. He heard a thump followed quickly by a pained groan and turned to see Dakota frowning at the door jamb like it had personally wronged her. “Wall jump out and get ya?”
Eyes still heavily lidded with sleep, she flipped him off. “Coffee,” she moaned, sitting next to Austin at the table with her head in her hands.
He snagged another mug from the shelf, consciously stopping his hand from adding a third teaspoon of sugar like it was used to doing. He nudged her gently with his arm and handed her the steaming cup, sitting down across from them with his own.
“I, uh, I just wanted to thank you guys for, you know, yesterday and last night.” He circled his fingers around the ceramic, letting the liquid warm his cool fingers.
“You should be kissing our asses, if ‘Kota hadn’t come over when she did you’d probably be dead from alcohol poisoning right now.” Austin stood up and took his empty cup to the sink.
Jensen stared at the butcher block table top, eyes skimming over the interlocking rectangles. He knew Austin wasn’t far off, judging by the amount of sour, whisky scented flop sweat he’d washed off his body in the shower this morning.
“What’s the plan for today?” Dakota sipped her coffee, hmmming in pleasure.
“You should go back to bed,” Austin frowned at the dark circles under his baby sister’s eyes. She’d stayed up half the night, tending to Jensen. “I’ve got 100 cows waiting to be milked so I’m going to work. Especially since the farm was used as collateral for your bail.” Austin washed his hands and wiped them clean on a dishtowel.
“You used the farm for my bail?” Jensen’s eyebrows shot up.
“Technically you own a fifth of it so consider your portion in hock.” Austin shrugged like he hadn’t placed his life’s work in jeopardy to get his little brother out of jail. The farm had been in the family for generations and Austin had taken over managing it ten years ago when their Uncle Joshua, his namesake, had been killed. The farm legally belonged to the living members of the Ackles family, but they deferred daily operations and major decisions to Austin.
“Let me go in and help you then. Might as well make myself useful,” Jensen started to stand, taking a few quick swallows of his coffee.
“Tomorrow,” Austin shook his head. “Today you need to finish your detox, Betty Ford, and clean up this pigsty. I think you’ll need a bucket of bleach for the living room alone.”
Jensen groaned, his head thudding against the table.
Austin clapped him on the shoulder as he left and Dakota offered a sympathetic smile as she disappeared into the bedroom to catch a couple more hours of sleep. Jensen got up and retrieved the bucket from under the sink and the cleaner.
*****
“You sure Dakota and Austin okayed you coming out tonight? Way they talked, you were basically 80 proof two nights ago.” Chris plunked down on the stool next to him, eying his friend suspiciously.
Jensen shifted uncomfortably on his stool. “I’m a grown man. Don’t need permission from them to come out,” he grumbled. “Anyway it was their idea, thought the distraction,” he waved his hand toward the stage where Steve was setting up for him and Chris to play a few songs, “might help, so long as the strongest thing I drink is soda,” he meekly raised his glass of Coke.
Chris chuckled, signaling for Joseph to get him one as well. “Speaking of distractions, I heard you helped Austin out on the farm today. Gotta say, man, I’m impressed.” He nodded his thanks when an iced glass of soda appeared in front of him. He absently noted that the bruising on Joseph’s face was fading into the jaundiced shade of healing.
“Dude, you forget. I was a farm boy long before I was a cop. I grew up in that barn.” Jensen defended, watching Joseph and Tom talking intimately at the end of the bar from the corner of his eye. He didn’t miss the way Tom’s hand would come up and lightly trace the remaining evidence of Ed’s attack.
Chris followed his gaze and smirked at the town’s newest lovebirds. Taking a sip of his Coke and wishing it had a little less ice and a lot more rum, he looked at his friend. “Heard anything from Jake?”
“Day before yesterday while I was completing my rehab,” Jensen nodded at Tom when he noticed Jensen watching them. “Turns out that the renewal application on the Treble’s work visas had been flagged for review due to a technicality, a technicality that magically resolved itself the day after they signed their statements.”
“That’s interesting.”
“It gets better,” Jensen gave him a tight smile. “The two guys, Phillips and McArthur? Well, Phillips, he’d gotten himself in a little trouble for solicitation since I knew him.”
“Let me guess; the charges disappeared after he testified?” Chris shook his head in disbelief.
“Yep,” Jensen answered, lips popping the last consonant for effect.
“And McArthur?”
“Nothing on him, but Jake found where his baby-momma had a sizeable sum of money deposited in her account.” Eyebrows rose over sparkling green eyes.
“So Jake’s petitioning for a dismissal?” Chris couldn’t understand why Jensen wasn’t more stoked about the news.
“Not yet,” Jensen sighed. “Olyphant ain’t stupid. He covered his tracks pretty well, so right now Jake’s following the leads. He wants to bring Olyphant down. He’s looking into the possib - “ Jensen was cut off when someone sat down hard on the stool next to him, jostling his body and forcing him to spill his drink over his hand. Flinging the sticky soda from his fingers, Jensen scowled at the inconsiderateness of the new-comer.
“Jensen!” A warm, slightly sour breath ghosted over Jensen’s cheek and he flinched away, not realizing that the stranger had gotten so close. “Don’t be like that,” the voice purred and recognition hit Jensen.
“Ed?” He turned to see the dark-haired man smiling at him, his casted right arm propped against the bar. He quickly shot a glance at Tom who was staring at Ed with clenched teeth and a murderous look in his eyes while Joseph patted his forearm consolingly. It was in that moment that Jensen decided Ed was the dumbest motherfucker to ever walk the face of the Earth.
“You’re not welcome in here anymore,” Chris stood, his eyes cutting to Steve still setting things up on stage, oblivious to the banned man’s presence. He and Steve might not have been quite as mad at Ed as Tom was but it wasn’t by much.
“Not welcome?” Ed asked with an innocent bat of his eyelashes, his hand stroking down Jensen’s back not deterred when Jensen shifted away. “Why not? You still let that gorilla in here.” He gestured over to where Tom was glaring daggers at him.
“He didn’t attack one of the employees and then cause a riot that forced the bar to shut down for the night,” Chris retorted, hoping to get rid of the asshole before Steve noticed him. Steve, and Chris to some extent, blamed Ed for Timothy being able to get to Jared. If he hadn’t started the fight that night, then Chris would never have left.
“Oh, please,” Ed rolled his eyes, moving closer to nuzzle against Jensen’s neck. “That was a high school rivalry that got out of hand. Anyway, I just came in to see Jensen.”
“Me?” Jensen batted Ed’s face away like the annoying fly he was, inwardly cursing his Impala’s conspicuousness.
“Yeah,” he smiled coyly, finger tracing the seam of Jensen’s shirt sleeve. “I was wondering if you’d like to sign my cast.”
“What the…” Jensen was taken aback by the juvenile request. “No!” He shook his head, forehead creased in incredulity. “Why can’t you understand that I don’t want anything from you? I’m with Jared. I love Jared. End of story.”
“But…”
“Look, Ed,” he leveled the man with a serious stare, “if I was you, I’d get out of here before Tom breaks your other arm.”
“Or has another go at your jaw. Of course, personally, I would welcome the silence.” Chris sat down. Steve had gone into the storeroom and now that Chris didn’t have to worry about his partner going to jail, he was able to focus his own anger at the young man.
“You’re with Jared, end of story, huh?” Ed’s inviting expression turned dark, something unreadable and sinister brewing behind his eyes. “How’s that working for you now that Timothy is back in the picture?”
Chris and Jensen’s heads turned at the same time, snapping to the smug looking man. “Timothy?” Jensen repeated, voice eerily calm with a hint of mild curiosity. People around town knew that Jared’s ex was in town, but only a handful of trusted people actually knew the man’s name and Ed definitely wasn’t among that privileged few.
“Yeah,” Ed snarked, “his ex-boyfriend. How exactly are you with Jared, if he’s shacked back up with Olyphant?”
Anger pulsed hot through Jensen’s body, his frame shuddering under the onslaught. He gripped his soda glass hard and narrowed his eyes at Ed. “What did you do?” he snarled, low and threateningly.
“What?” Ed’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“What. Did. You. Do?” Jensen repeated through gritted teeth.
“N-nothing,” Ed stammered, scared at the feral look on Jensen’s face.
Chris could feel the building rage radiating off Jensen and the fury boiling his own blood. He studied Ed carefully and then he saw it. Ed’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second to Tom. Chris looked Ed over, the cast on his right arm, the purplish green bruise along his jaw, the remaining traces of the black eyes from his broken nose. Realization flowed over him. Son…of…a…bitch. He and Steve were more right then they knew. He jumped to his feet, the stool he’d been sitting on toppling over at the abrupt movement. “You motherfucker,” he hissed. “You started that fight on purpose.” The pieces were clicking into place. “Started it so I would leave Jared alone that night.” He moved closer to the young man whose eyes grew wider with fear at each sentence. “You’d been coming in here for weeks, Jared said so himself. You were watching him, taking notes. You knew that Jared would tell me to go if his friends were in danger.”
Jensen looked from Chris’s epiphany-awed, ire-riddled face to Ed’s frightened, pale one. There was no question that Chris was right, the answer written plainly in the sweat trails that were developing under Ed’s hairline. Jensen’s mind went blank, a veil of red clouding his thoughts, and he lunged off his stool at the scared man. Before he could touch him, Ed was yanked away, the space he’d occupied now empty.
Surprise paralyzed Jensen for a minute, growls and yelps of pain finally reviving him. He glanced down to see Ed sprawled on his back, Steve’s thick, muscled legs straddling his chest and knees pinning his upper arms. Punches rained down over Ed’s face and head in a blur, Steve’s normally jovial voice menacing as it maintained a constant stream of insults and curses.
“You asshole!” Steve snarled, spittle landing on Ed’s face. “You set this all up?! Do you realize what you’ve done? How could you? You sent that Jared and those boys back to that abusive motherfucker!” The words were hard to distinguish over the meaty thuds of fists hitting flesh and Ed’s whimpers.
Chris and Jensen stood shocked as Ed suffered Steve’s wrath. Finally, Joseph’s voice broke their impressed stares, his eyes wide staring at the scene from around the bulky shield of Tom.
“He’s gonna kill him!”
They each hooked an arm under Steve’s armpits, bobbing to avoid moving arms, and dragged Steve back away from the supine man. They manhandled him onto a bar stool, leaving grounding hands on his shaking shoulders. Jensen glanced at the patrons as Chris murmured soft words in Steve’s ear, soothing his partner’s blood lust.
Ed wiped a hand across his mouth, a streak of red coating his fingers when he pulled them away. “Yes, I set it up. It was my plan! I knew that fucking oaf would send Chris down here - too damn self-sacrificing for his own good - and I was right,” he sneered. “He’s too weak for you, Jensen. You deserve someone better, stronger. Someone like me!”
“You think Jared’s weak because he puts his friends first?!” Tom’s roar silenced what little noise there still was in the bar. He loomed over the downed man, fist clenching and unclenching, with Joseph’s restraining hand on his arm.
“Where did it get him? Huh?” Ed’s voice was strong, but Jensen could see the fear in his eyes, more than likely remembering being on the receiving end of Tom’s anger before. Ed’s gaze landed back on Jensen. “I hope that Timothy fucks him up good. You know he was so angry, I bet he beat him that very night. And there’s not a damned thing you can do about it!” Ed laughed darkly. “You might not want me, but I made sure you can’t have him either.”
Jensen’s fist closed, his jaw clamped tight, breathing hard and heavy. “You son of a bitch!” He lunged forward, probation be damned, only to be stopped by Chris, the broad shouldered man’s face a warning.
“He’s just trying to bait you,” Chris mumbled.
Jensen’s chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing. Looking around, he noticed the locals watching in interested silence, quiet murmurs confirming small town gossip falling from their lips. Just because Wowakan was a small town didn’t mean the residents were naïve, most had at least a notion of what was happening with Jared. The sneering looks, the townsfolk threw toward Ed made it clear they felt justice had been served for any part he might have played in Jared’s situation. There were a couple of unfamiliar faces, cellphones pressed to their ears, and Jensen heaved a sigh, knowing exactly who they were calling.
“We’re gonna have company in less than five,” he muttered to Chris, eyes volleying to the good Samaritans.
“Shit,” Chris groaned, eyes closing and head shaking.
“What?” Steve asked numbly, staring at the blood on his knuckles with a frown.
“Well,” Chris began, “in about four minutes Welling and Rosenbaum are going to be here and I have a feeling this little prick,” he lightly kicked Ed’s shoe with his boot, “will press charges.”
“You’re goddamn right I will,” Ed spat bloody saliva on the floor.
“Shut up,” Jensen snapped.
“I’m…going… to jail.” Steve stated slowly, the tone held a hint of confusion but the words weren’t said as a question.
“Fraid so, babe,” Chris took Steve’s hands in his and inspected the knuckles to ensure that the blood wasn’t Steve’s. He smiled at Joseph when he nudged Chris’s arm with a wet towel.
“That’s,” Steve hissed when Chris swiped the harsh terrycloth bar rag across his swollen skin.
“It’ll be okay,” Chris cooed, wiping the last vestiges of crimson from Steve’s hands.
“That’s awesome!” Steve’s exclamation had the friends’ attention snapping to him.
“It’s awesome that you’re going to jail?” Chris frowned at his lover in worry.
Steve simply shrugged. “It was on my bucket list. Guess I can cross that one off now.”
Chris shook his head and chuckled. “You are a strange man and I love you for it.” He leaned over and kissed Steve just as the front door opened to allow in two of Plains County’s finest.
Welling made his way through the crowd to where Jensen stood beside Chris and Steve, who were kissing, Steve’s knuckles red and swollen, over a badly beaten Ed Westwick.
“This is starting to become a habit,” Welling grumbled, unclipping his handcuff from his belt, knowing somebody was going to be leaving in them. He’d heard the rumors circulating through their community and he was getting really tired of arresting good people, his friends, when there were others out there that deserved it so much more.
Part B