BIA Ch. 113

Day Fifteen

As soon as it turned 9 AM, there was a knock on the door. Isaiah instinctively grabbed the pistol he had tucked under the cushion.

“Who is it?”

He asked, pressed close to the front door, without pulling back the slide. Soon, a clear voice called out from outside.

“Hello, it’s Alejandro. I’m here to clean.”

Isaiah held his breath and put his eye to the peephole in the door. Through the peephole, he saw a man wearing an old gray tracksuit. His hair was shorter and his jawline a bit fuller than in his Airbnb app profile picture, but it was definitely Alejandro. Isaiah opened the door, hiding the pistol behind his back.

“Didn’t expect you this early.”

Alejandro paused for a moment upon seeing Isaiah’s split lip, then quickly spoke cheerfully.

“Oh? I sent Bob a message.”

He stepped inside with a quick ‘excuse me’. While Alejandro bustled about, opening windows in various rooms and preparing to clean, Isaiah returned to the living room sofa. After tucking the pistol back under the cushion, he took out the smartphone Bran had given him from the rifle case.

「Got a reply from Alejandro. Says he can clean starting at 9.」

There was indeed a message. The problem was that it had arrived just ten minutes ago.

As he put the smartphone back in its case and lay down on the sofa again, Alejandro came out of the bedroom carrying a load of bedding and said,

“I’ve changed the sheets. I’ll wash these blankets and bring them back later today.”

His tone was sweet, but his expression was incredibly sly. He didn’t say it out loud, but you could see him smirking, thinking, ‘Looks like these gay guys had quite a hot night.’ ‘Did the lip get split after, or did they have a huge fight and then make up rough? Can’t leave even after getting beaten up like that… Bob must be something else in bed…’ He seemed to be openly sizing Isaiah up.

Isaiah considered going into the bedroom but couldn’t be bothered to move, so he just stayed lying on the sofa. It went without saying, but having sex while Awakened drained twice as much stamina as usual. So, usually, he couldn’t help but pass out immediately afterward. Waking up later with a clear head, ready to return to his routine—Isaiah liked that pattern.

But yesterday, he’d had nothing to do but sit around at the Mountain Dog until three in the morning. Maybe that was why his head still felt foggy, hazy. He wanted to fall back asleep quickly, but the sound of the vacuum cleaner was too annoying.

“By the way, where did Bob go?”

Alejandro asked while vacuuming the living room. Lying on the sofa, Isaiah stared at Alejandro with hazy eyes. Belatedly registering the question, he answered with whatever came to mind.

“He went out. To buy me coffee and a sandwich.”

“Oh my, how thoughtful.”

That’s what he said, but his eyes were cursing Bob as a typical American guy with anger issues—hurting you then giving you medicine, beating you up then buying you coffee. He also seemed to find Isaiah pathetic for not leaving such a bum.

Seeing that expression made Isaiah suddenly curious. Isaiah stretched out the leg he had bent at the knee and asked,

“Have you ever actually met Bob?”

“No. We’ve only communicated through Airbnb messages.”

The Bob in the Airbnb profile picture was a man in his late thirties. His hair was black and his eyes dark brown, bearing no resemblance to Bran whatsoever. For a moment, Isaiah felt the urge to show Bran to Alejandro. Maybe then he would understand why Isaiah couldn’t leave even after getting his lip split. No, Alejandro might hit on Bran then… better not…

Lost in all sorts of ridiculous, childish thoughts, he fell asleep again. When he opened his eyes to the loud sound of the front door opening, the cleaning was already finished. Alejandro, of course, was also gone. Only Chester was there, his lips trembling with anger.

“Thought you’d lay low for a few days, but you couldn’t resist crawling back to the Mountain Dog?”

Chester raged, throwing the smartphone onto the sofa. It was the smartphone Isaiah had left at the Mountain Dog early that morning. As expected, Chester seemed to have used a tracking app as soon as he woke up to figure out Isaiah’s movements last night. Still, Isaiah hadn’t expected him to actually pick the lock of a closed bar to retrieve the phone.

“Where was this?”

Isaiah asked, playing innocent.

“Where do you think? It was shoved onto a barstool.”

Chester, still angry, sat down on the sofa and suddenly frowned.

“What happened to your lip now?”

“Don’t touch it.”

Isaiah snapped, swatting away the hand reaching for the scab.

“Got into a fight.”

“What kind of fight?”

“Some guy kept hitting on me even though I said no.”

“What? Since when are you picky?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t touch someone like you even if you were offered on a plate.”

Instantly, Chester’s face hardened. Seeing his openly hurt expression, Isaiah was inwardly taken aback. After all, it wasn’t the first or second time Isaiah had rejected Chester; just yesterday, he had shot him down for smelling like drugs. He’d naturally assumed Chester would just scoff at a comment like that. Or maybe get pissed off and fume. But to look this hurt…

“Someone like me? What kind of person is that?”

Chester finally asked in a subdued voice.

“A junkie.”

“Like there’s any homo at the Mountain Dog who isn’t a junkie.”

Chester retorted immediately.

“Besides, you’re too skinny.”

“I know your type is gorillas. But you haven’t only slept with guys like that.”

He shot back, clenching his teeth. He was so agitated his voice cracked at the end.

“Tell me the truth.”

His eyes were even bloodshot as he spoke; Isaiah had no idea what answer he was hoping for. He wanted to snap at him to stop being annoying, but with so many things weighing on his conscience, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I told you the truth. You just don’t want to accept it.”

“What part of that is tru—”

“Fine. It’s because you’re a hopeless daddy’s boy.”

Isaiah finally spat out.

“Can you accept that?”

Sparks flew from Chester’s eyes. The next moment, a strong hand grabbed his hair. Before he could push him away, their lips crashed together. Chester could have pushed his tongue in, but he didn’t. He only bit and gnawed at Isaiah’s lips.

…!

He felt the thin scab tear off, the barely healing wound reopening. A throbbing pain shot to the crown of his head, making him grimace involuntarily. He felt Chester get even more aroused by the groan that escaped him. The grip on his hair tightened. At the same time, the thing pressing against his thigh hardened. Uncharacteristically, Chester’s vigor was impressive.

Normally, he probably would have bitten back just as hard and started tearing off clothes. If this had happened just a day earlier, no, even half a day earlier, he would have. If Chester, not Bran, had come to The Bell Financial last night, he definitely would have slept with him without a second thought.

But he couldn’t do that now.

Instead of telling him to stop, Isaiah reached under the cushion. Chester must have seen the pistol emerge in his hand, but he didn’t stop. He seemed to falter for a moment, but as Isaiah brought his arms around him, Chester clung even more desperately. Isaiah deliberately pulled back the slide right next to Chester’s ear. With a click-clack sound, the trigger moved forward. Only when the muzzle touched his temple did their pressed lips finally separate. The hand gripping his hair also let go.

“Why stop? Go on.”

Isaiah asked, aiming the muzzle at Chester’s forehead.

“Hm? I said, go on.”

“No, uh, calm down.”

His earlier intensity gone, Chester quickly pulled himself up. When Isaiah didn’t lower the gun, Chester finally raised both hands and stammered,

“Hey, you’re not really going to shoot, are you? Calm down and think about HQ—no, your father. Your father in the hospital in Virginia. Wren, was it?”

“It’s Jacana.”

“Right, yeah. Jacana.”

Chester nodded quickly. Isaiah, still aiming the pistol, said,

“Good point, Chester. I have to go to Virginia today.”

“What…?”

Chester frowned deeply. Isaiah silently readjusted his grip on the pistol. It was to show that the grip safety was properly depressed. Sure enough, Chester instantly threw his hands up again. Keeping the gun aimed, Isaiah reached out with his left hand, picked up the feature phone lying discarded beside the cushion, and held it out to Chester.

“Morgan sent a message. Says my father’s condition isn’t good. Naturally, I should go see him, right? Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Ah, right. If that’s the case, you should go.”

Chester replied without even properly looking at the message on the feature phone. Isaiah snatched the phone back from Chester’s hand and tossed it back onto the sofa.

“I’ll be back by lunch tomorrow.”

Chester habitually opened his mouth wide, then mumbled in a small voice,

“Yeah, well, as long as it doesn’t interfere with work…”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

Isaiah finally lowered the hand holding the pistol.