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Authors: Bonnie Dee

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temper.”

“Get away from me!”

68

Bonnie Dee

Andreas glanced at the faces of his companions and their entourage, most of

whom looked more amused than outraged by Timon‟s plight. But that was their way—

to mock and laugh at others‟ misfortunes. These were his people, and he didn‟t care if

he ever saw any of them again.

He made eye contact with Jabez and jerked his head, and the pair of them made

their way down the street to where Andreas‟s vehicle was parked.

As he slid behind the wheel, Andreas felt an exultant surge of victory, which

would‟ve been sweeter if Timon had actually hit back.

“Sorry about all that. I didn‟t realize my friends were such morons. I don‟t know

why I don‟t have better friends than that.”

Jabez shrugged and looked out the window.

Andreas noted the stiffness in his back. What could he do to alleviate it?

“Next time we go out, you choose the place and the company—or no company at

all, okay?”

After a long moment, Jabez looked over at him. “Did you think I couldn‟t take it?

He was just trash-talking like your friends do with each other. You overreacted.”

“I don‟t think so. Timon insulted you.”

“So what?”

“I just…” Andreas was nonplussed. He hadn‟t exactly expected Jabez to be

grateful to him but had expected
some
appreciation. “I didn‟t like the way he talked

about you or the way he touched you.”

“Because you don‟t like your friends touching your things?”

“No. That‟s not what I meant. You‟re twisting this around. I was defending you.”

“I don‟t need you to defend me. I‟m not your boyfriend.” Jabez turned back to the

window, shutting him out.

“That‟s funny. I kind of thought you were.” Andreas stared at the road, the

taillights of the gliders before him, and the brightly lit buildings flashing by.

“I just work for you. If we fuck, it‟s only for fun. It doesn‟t mean anything.”

Jabez‟s voice was as rough and cold as gravel mixed with ice. “You shouldn‟t care too

much about me.”

Andreas felt like he‟d been punched in the face himself. It was like that childhood

board game he used to play—reach the end of the trail only to get smacked right back to

the beginning again. Three steps up, slide ten paces back down. He didn‟t say anything

else to Jabez for the rest of the ride home.

Cage Match

69

Chapter Eight

Jabez felt sick inside, like someone had taken a beater and churned his guts.

Heaviness filled the air between him and Andreas, smothering him in its choking

darkness, all because he couldn‟t keep his mouth shut.

When Andreas had taken a swing at Timon, Jabez had been more shocked than if

he‟d been suddenly attacked himself. For one moment, his heart had soared. Andreas

was sticking up for him, nailing his fist into Timon‟s smart mouth. But the high had

immediately been followed by a dive straight to the ground. The bond between them

was getting too complicated. Simple sex was becoming mingled with emotions way

beyond his comprehension. The strength of his feelings scared the hell out of him like

no hulking opponent in the arena ever had.

The fact that he‟d spoken without thinking frightened him too. He bit his tongue

to keep silent the rest of the way home, but as they pulled into Andreas‟s driveway, his

words got away from him again.

“Why do you even like me? You don‟t know me at all.”

“Because you won‟t let me. But I do know you a little.” Andreas stopped the

glider and turned it off. “I know quite a few things about you. You like the outdoors

and animals. You‟re curious about the world and want to travel. You have a great

appetite for knowledge. You examine every new thing you learn from all angles and

tuck the information away like it was a gem.”

Andreas turned toward him. Jabez didn‟t face him but felt his eyes on him. His

pulse was racing and his head full of all the things Andreas had said about him. No one

had ever paid that much attention to him before, or made him think about who he was.

“I know you like sex rough, but you like it gentle too,” Andreas continued, “and

the cuddling afterward, even if you won‟t admit it. I know you like simple foods best,

70

Bonnie Dee

but you‟ll eat anything.” His soft chuckle was like warm fingers stroking down Jabez‟s

spine.

“You‟re right, I don‟t know everything about you, but I like what I‟ve uncovered

so far. And I could ask you the same question. Other than being glad I got you out of

the Fight Palace, do you feel anything for me?”

Too much
. Jabez couldn‟t admit that or give a list of everything he admired about

Andreas. There was too much—his joyousness, his sense of humor, his kindness and

generosity, his caring. But Andreas still didn‟t understand that there was nothing good

like that in Jabez, no reason to like him except that he was a great fuck. If Andreas ever

realized the truth about him, he‟d probably get rid of him.

So Jabez did another stupid thing and offered to show Andreas what a dung heap

he‟d come from. “What your friends wanted to do, go to Brick Town, maybe we should

do that. Not tonight, but soon. If you really want to know about me, you should see

where I‟m from.”

There was a pause before Andreas answered. “You‟re right. I‟ve been around the

world and out in space, but I‟ve never been in my own backyard. Before I present my

plans for Brick Town to the board, I should know more than facts I‟ve read about the

place. Take me there. Show me your world.”

Jabez‟s stomach plummeted. Even as he‟d made the rash offer, he‟d hoped

Andreas would say no. He didn‟t want to walk the streets of B-town again. Not ever.

For one thing, there were people there he couldn‟t afford to run into. For another, it

would bring back memories he was better off forgetting.

“All right. Tomorrow,” he said.

* * * * *

Jabez‟s pulse raced as he and Andreas walked from the parked glider toward the

gates of the Brick Town border station. He‟d insisted on Andreas leaving his vehicle

behind and walking into B-town. The glider was like a flashing neon sign asking

someone to steal it. But being on foot was more frightening than riding in the protection

of a vehicle. All the previous night, Jabez had tossed and sweated through nightmares

about being trapped in B-town.

Only a small percent of Brick Town residents were allowed to work in New

Englandia. They had to have proof of employment and a stamped passport in order to

go back and forth. If a resident stayed out of the quarter past curfew, he‟d be arrested,

taken back across the border, lose his travel rights and his job. This was to keep the

criminal element contained in the slum where it belonged.

Jabez‟s steps slowed as they reached the row of gates, cubicles, and armed guards.

“This was a bad idea.”

Cage Match

71

Few besides B-town residents returning home ever crossed this way. Not even

thrill-seekers like Timon. There weren‟t any kinky clubs or illegal drugs people couldn‟t

get on safer streets in their own part of the city.

Andreas took his hand. “We‟ll be all right.”

You have no idea
. Jabez glanced over at his…whatever Andreas was to him,

employer, lover, friend? Dressed in the cheapest clothes they could buy, there was still

no hiding his quality. Maybe it was Jabez‟s imagination, but the man‟s very walk

seemed to signal he was somebody worth mugging. And even with the bill of a cap

pulled low over his eyes and his jacket collar turned up, Jabez was afraid Andreas

might be recognized as the heir to the Fortias Corporation.

As they reached the gate and a bored-looking guard who was examining ID cards,

Andreas gave his hand a squeeze. “We won‟t stay long. We‟ll be home in time for

dinner.”

Jabez nodded. He offered his shiny, new identification that said he worked for

Andreas Fortias to the guard. The man‟s brows shot up, and he looked up at Jabez‟s

face.

“What‟s your purpose in Brick Town?”

Andreas showed his card as well and began to explain. “I‟m on a fact-finding

mission for the Fortias Corporation, making an assessment of the services available to

the homeless in the depressed portion of the city. This man is serving as my bodyguard.

Show him your weapons, Jabez. All licensed and legal,” Andreas assured the guard.

He frowned and studied the paperwork Andreas flashed him. “I don‟t know

about this, sir. One armed man to escort you through B-town? Do your people know

you‟re doing this?”

“I‟ll be safer incognito,” Andreas answered smoothly. “The longer you make us

linger here, the more attention it draws to us.”

“Yes, sir.” The guard caved at his authoritative tone and processed them through

quickly, as though anxious to be rid of the problem.

“People do exactly what you tell them to, don‟t they?” Jabez muttered as they

walked through the terminal and onto a crowded street. He‟d forgotten how closed in it

felt here with the tall walls all around.

“Not always, but if you sound sure of yourself, people generally believe you are.”

Jabez looked at Andreas, watching him take in his first view of B-town. His gaze

darted restlessly from one thing to another, and he couldn‟t quite hide the distaste that

curled his lip.

“No trash compactors?” he asked as he saw the mounds by the street.

“When they break here, they usually stay broken for a while and there‟s no

curbside pickup.” Jabez pulled on Andreas‟s arm, guiding him through the pedestrians.

“It‟s not like uptown where every house and business has a compactor to squash

72

Bonnie Dee

garbage to the size of a brick.” He smiled and added, “But one thing we have that you

don‟t uptown is actual bricks.”

He pointed to the dark red, rough wall of the building they were passing. “They

say some of the buildings date back to the founding of Boston.”

Andreas ran his hand over the wall, feeling the texture. “This part of the city

should be declared a national historical site. People should pay to see it!”

“Yeah, I‟m sure tourists would be lining up to get into B-town.” Jabez grabbed his

elbow, pulling him on down the street. “Try not to gape at things. That guy over there

is watching us. Don‟t look at him!”

Squeezing his arm, he steered him around a corner.

“What do people do here? I mean, those who don‟t work in New Englandia. It

looks like there are a few businesses.”

“A few. But it‟s mostly black-market trading and drug manufacturing.” He

gestured at a woman sitting on the ground and leaning against the side of a building.

People stepped over her sprawled legs and continued on their way. “A lot of people

live on welfare and spend their days rocked like her.”

“See, this is what we need to do. Give people incentive to do more. Give them jobs

to go to. Education and job training must be our first priority.”

Jabez snorted. “No one out there”—he pointed at the high wall separating the

slum from the rest of the city—“wants to hire anyone from in here if they can help it.

Maybe as a janitor or for lawn care. But most people wouldn‟t let someone from B-town

in their house to clean it if they offered to do it for a third of what they‟re paying.”

“Then we need to change the image as well, revitalize the community.” Andreas

sounded so enthusiastic and painfully naive.

Jabez didn‟t say anything, but Andreas seemed to hear his silent doubt.

“I know I sound overexcited. Until recently, I didn‟t bother to think about much of

anything besides finding new entertainment to fill my days, but I‟m trying to make up

for that now. At some point you have to try to make a change if you want your life to

get better.”

They walked in silence for a while, and Jabez breathed in the familiar rank odors

that took him back to his youth and made him feel as if he‟d never left B-town. If

Andreas weren‟t walking by his side, he‟d think he‟d imagined that other life in the

plush house with the pool and the garden, like a drug dream to while away a long

afternoon.

“I‟ve done my share of wasting time,” Jabez admitted. “You‟re right. Sometimes

you have to make a change.”

Of course, everything that had happened to him he‟d stumbled into by chance—

the fight club, his meeting with Andreas—but he wanted to meet Andreas halfway and

so he offered the words.

Cage Match

73

Jabez stopped and pointed to a stucco-faced building across the street. The

windows were broken and it appeared abandoned. “That‟s where the shelter I lived in

for a while was. Guess they ran out of money or got driven out by the gangs.”

A rail-thin bald man wearing a dirty undershirt and baggy shorts came out the

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