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Territorial Bonds

Chapter four

It was three days after the phone call from Sam and Jazz was already at his wits end. The man had bombarded him with gifts - flowers, chocolates, anything he could think of. A small tube of cherry flavoured lubricant had even been delivered to his apartment, making him go bright red when he opened it, and then a pair of deep purple, fluffy handcuffs were delivered straight to his work with a saucy note.

Jazz didn’t understand it. Sam obviously seemed like a man that could have anyone he wanted, but instead he chose to go after the one person who didn’t want him in return. As far as Jazz was concerned, the lawyer didn’t stand a chance.

All the gifts had gone the same way as the flowers, chucked in the trash can at the end of the hall. He supposed it had surprised the trash man to see so many beautiful flowers casually discarded, but he didn’t care. He did, however, keep the tube of lubricant and the handcuffs, shutting them away in one of his drawers as he was too embarrassed to throw them away.

It was a complete joke. Jazz just wanted to live his life under the radar, recover from the ordeal he had been through, but Sam seemed intent on making things difficult for him. That was, until he gave in.

Jazz had found himself wondering if giving in was the best option, just letting the man have him once so it would be over and done with. But then he reminded himself just who the man in question was and it made him angry that he’d even thought of giving in. Sam needed to be taught a lesson, shown that he couldn’t just have everything he wanted. It wasn’t even about the fact that the man was representing his family’s killer anymore- even though it was something Jazz couldn’t forget- it was about his pride.

He was late for work again. With a sigh, Jazz gathered his things and left his apartment, trying to rid his head of thoughts of Sam. He’d found himself thinking of the man far too much- much more than he should.

It had thankfully stopped raining by the time he stepped out onto the street, but there was a decisive chill in the air. Jazz shivered as he darted across the street, wondering just what he’d done with the money he’d set aside for a warm, winter coat. He never had any money, at least not enough for luxuries like a coat. The cold set in deeply, passing easily through the thin clothing that he wore and chilling him to the very core. He had to pause in the entrance to an alleyway, out of the reach of the freezing wind to rub his hands together, trying to restore some of their warmth.

As he was about to set off again, a sleek black limo came down the road, pulling to a stop where Jazz stood. A moment later, the door opened and Sam Taylor stepped out of the car, onto the frosty street. Jazz could feel the warmth emanating from within the limo and his body moved towards it almost automatically, craving it.

“Get in.” Sam demanded, frowning down at the young man as he stood with his arms wrapped around himself, shivers wracking his body.

Jazz shook his head and backed away, but Sam caught his arm, pulling him forward, towards the heat of the car.

“Don’t be stupid.” Sam told him with narrowed eyes. “You’re frozen and the car is nice and warm.” His eyes raked over Jazz’s body. “I’m not going to molest you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jazz was torn between hating the man that stood in front of him and the delicious warmth that came from the inside of the vehicle. He stood shivering for a few moments while he tried to make the decision, but in the end, the need and hunger for warmth won out and he scrambled into the car.

Jazz slid over to the other side of the long back seat, his body pressed against the door as Sam got back into the car. The warmth was beautiful. It flooded over his body and in a mere matter of moments, the shivers subsided, leaving him with a warm, happy feeling within. It was only when he had warmed up that he remembered whose car he was in and he turned his head to look at Sam with a dark frown.

“Are you following me?” he asked, disliking the way Sam was looking at him.

The lawyer simply laughed. “Believe me, I have better things to do with my time than follow a stubborn little boy who doesn’t know what he wants.”

“I suppose it’s just coincidence that you happened to be driving down this road just as I was walking to work?”

Sam gave Jazz a knowing, confident smile that made him feel even more angry.

“Of course it is.”

Jazz eventually tore his gaze away from the man, turning his head to stare out of the darkened windows at the houses as they passed by. “What do you want?” He asked, not wanting to turn back to the man, not wanting to betray the anger he was feeling.

He felt Sam shift closer and suddenly a hand was at the nape of his neck, fingers touching him so gently he could barely feel it. He tensed, fingers closing around the door handle only to find that it was locked.

Jazz turned to push the man away, but found Sam moving closer, pinning him against the side of the limo with strong arms either side of his head. Still, he met the lawyer’s gaze defiantly.

“I love how your eyes are both different colours.” Sam told him, a half smile playing on his lips. “It says a lot about you. Exotic.”

Sam himself had very pale coloured eyes, a blue so light that it was almost white. A colour that he had never seen before on anyone but one that he found to be strangely interesting.

“You wonder why I want you so much.” Jazz’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. He did want to know why the man desired him so much that he would go to such lengths to get him. A smile spread across the lawyer’s face. “I’ve never been one to say no to a challenge. Especially one as…” He inhaled Jazz’s scent deeply, “Intoxicating as you.”

“Just leave me alone.” Jazz frowned. “I don’t want you. Even if you weren’t representing him, then I still wouldn’t want you. Arrogant…stuck-up…”

He cut off when the man laughed and moved to sit back, settling on the middle of the long, warm seat.

They rode in silence for the rest of the journey until the limo came to a stop outside his work. Jazz tried the door again, only to find that it was still locked and he turned to Sam with a frown.

“Let me out.”

Sam nodded at the front of the limo, where the driver could be seen behind a dark partition. Jazz wondered how the man could see the nod, but the locks clicked back up all the same. Before he could scramble out of the car, escape into the building, a hand grasped his arm and he turned to see Sam staring at him with a serious look on his face.

“The trial starts tomorrow.” he said with a slight nod. “I will be defending Deacon Grady to the best of my ability, doing all that I can to keep him out of prison. I won’t tell you why I’m going to do it. Just know that I am good. I am very good. And since there are no strong witnesses aside from your younger brother, there isn’t much evidence to pin him to the crime. I know there was some evidence…but that is inconsequential.”

Sam released Jazz’s arm, keeping his gaze and finding himself rather amused at the young man’s attempt to hold back his anger. He knew it had to be hard on him, especially since he would be a witness himself, with Sam firing questions at him in court, but it had to be done. Deacon was like family to him, despite being even more of a bastard than he was.

“Be prepared, Jazz.” he said before the young man climbed out of the car, nailing him with one final look before slamming the door behind him.

Jazz made his way swiftly to the restaurant, eager to be back in the warmth after the cold shock as he stepped out of the car. He was relieved to find that he had arrived on time thanks to Sam picking him up and he took a few moments to sit out the back of the restaurant, thinking about what the man had said to him.

On a table across the room sat a vase with a bouquet of flowers Sam had given him sitting in it. They had been delivered to the restaurant the day before and he had gone to throw them away, but Nomine had stopped him. And now they sat in a vase where he had to keep looking at them.

Jazz had just gotten changed and was about to get to work when he heard the distinct buzzing noise and he sighed softly. The last thing he wanted to do after the car ride with Sam was to have to see his boss.

He hurried up to the next floor, stopping when he reached the door to knock on it lightly, waiting until he was told before he stepped inside. As usual, he stood with his back to the door, peering through the darkness at the shape behind the desk. Always behind his desk. Jazz had to wonder just what the man did all day upstairs in the dark, alone. But then, he supposed anyone could pay him a visit if they had been asked, there were other ways in aside from through the restaurant.

“Jazz,” Lucas began, once again getting straight to the point, “I am wondering if perhaps you know why I’ve brought you up here.”

“No, sir.”

In the dark, Jazz heard a sound from the desk and a moment later, a screen at the side of the room flicked on., giving enough light for him to see his boss’s shape more clearly, but not enough for him to see any features.

A moment later, an image flicked onto the screen of him a few days before, when the first gift had been delivered to the restaurant. The tape seemed to flick through the gifts he had been given, showing him paying more attention to them than the customers themselves. When the tape was finally paused it was caught on an image of him sitting out the back of the restaurant, staring at the flowers as he had been only moments before.

It was slightly eerie, knowing that the man was watching every single thing they did in the restaurant, almost spying on them as they went about their business. Just how much did he watch, Jazz had to wonder. Did he watch them changing when they came in? Or when they took their breaks? Did he monitor the conversations they had, sometimes in private?

“Perhaps you know what I’m talking about now?” Lucas asked, switching off the screen so that the room was once more flooded in darkness.

Jazz hung his head.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you, Jazz,” the man continued, “That I expect you to be focused on your job, and nothing else. Tell this lover of yours to back off, because at work, you are mine, and I won’t have you disgracing this establishment.”

Jazz frowned at his choice of words. It seemed as if everyone was trying to own him lately, like he was some object to be had. It was almost as if they were animals showing their dominance.

He raised his head before speaking, peering through the blackness at Lucas’s shape.

“With respect, sir, he’s not my lover. I’ve tried asking Mr Taylor to leave me alone, but he’s…persistent.”

Lucas’s head rose sharply in the darkness.

“Samuel Taylor is the one sending you these gifts?” he asked and Jazz just sighed. “He’s the one who has been sending things to your workplace, your home? Was it him that dropped you off just now?”

Jazz didn’t like the tone of Lucas’s voice, the anger that he could sense from him.

“He thinks he can move in on my territory, after I invited him here to make peace?”

The man’s voice was louder now and Jazz found himself stepping backwards, pressing himself against the door. After the outburst there was silence for a long time and Jazz chewed his bottom lip, wondering just what he was supposed to do. Eventually, he risked a slight step forward.

“Sir?” he asked, wondering if the man was alright. He heard heavy breathing that almost sounded un-human in the darkness and then when Lucas raised his head to look at him, he could have sworn he saw the yellowy glow of his eyes.

“Get out.” the man stated flatly and Jazz paused, wanting to press the matter further. He opened his mouth to speak once again, but Lucas rose swiftly to his feet. “Get out!” He shouted and Jazz heard something smash into the wall beside his head- something glass it sounded like.

He didn’t wait to see what was wrong, just hurried from the room, closing the door firmly behind him before virtually bolting back to the restaurant.

“What the hell is the matter with everyone?” he asked into the darkness of the hall, pausing to collect himself before he finally entered the restaurant to get down to work.

Lucas’s outburst both puzzled and worried him. He had thought that Sam Taylor was one of the man’s friends, since he had been invited to the restaurant and given special treatment, but it seemed the relationship between them was much more complicated. It seemed that Sam was causing him even more of a problem than he had originally thought.

Up in the darkness of his room, Lucas growled, staring down at the scratch marks he had made in the desk during his anger- deep gashes that ran deep into the wood. He hated the man, such a blind hate that it made him see red and now even thinking about him made Lucas want to hurl something else across the room.

Jazz was his, his property. Sam had no right to take him, not without a confrontation and the harder he tried, the longer it took, the longer Lucas would have to think up a suitable plan to get him. He wanted to make the man suffer for what he was and what he had done.

A wide, half-mad grin set across Lucas’s face in the darkness and he rose from his chair, crossing to the screen that he had flicked on once more, showing Jazz at work down in the restaurant. He reached out a hand, claws trailing across the image of the young man almost lovingly for a brief moment before his fist suddenly slammed into the screen, pitching the room into blackness.

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