Jett sat on the edge of the bed, the rest of the room a blur to him, his singular focus being his train of thought. He had been summoned again. Against his will, as the power worked. He’d been fighting a long time, but it seemed the fight in him was dying, giving way to despair over his situation with Marcus – he would never be free, he felt, no matter what Marcus said. He should be angry, but instead he felt defeated. Marcus had left some time ago, most likely to get a different place to stay in order to protect himself from Jett’s potential temper, and since he hadn’t been paying much attention to the time, Jett had no idea how long he’d been sitting there.
Eventually, Jett managed to talk himself into finding his things – in just enough time for housekeeping to enter, and give a startled shriek of surprise. Startled as well, he mumbled an apology, made sure he had everything, and quickly left the room. If housekeeping had entered, that meant Marcus had checked out, and he had both no business being there, and had stayed in a stupor much longer than he had ever intended.
His car wasn’t parked very far from the door to the room, and once inside, he placed one hand on the wheel, and reached for his keys, pausing after placing them in the ignition. Just where did he think he was going to go? He could drive back to L.A., sure – but why? Nothing was waiting for him back there. He felt trapped and alone, and had no ideas just then on how to cope with his situation.
Jett sat back, reaching into his pockets to remove his phone, cigarettes, and a lighter. The phone he left on the passenger seat, and grumbled about his last couple of cigarettes being crushed. Sighing, he picked up the phone. Vince was in Las Vegas, he remembered. But weren’t there others? He closed his eyes, thinking over the letter Marcus had written him. Petra. She’d been mentioned as the reason he was in Las Vegas in the first place. Was it wise to call, after what she’d been through? He didn’t know, but just seeing her might be nice. Still, he didn’t want to cause her any undue stress.
He weighed the possibilities, and ended up deciding on Petra. Vince would listen, he knew, but Vince might also give him shit for waking him so early. Petra hit hard too, but she was less of an asshole when grumpy, so he looked up her contact info, and gave her a call. Within a few minutes, he had directions on where to meet up with her. She was reluctant to give out the directions to the house itself, but said she would meet up with him and lead him the rest of the way.
He found himself heading away from the strip, and finally out of town entirely, disappearing into the desert. After maybe fifteen minutes of driving, he spotted a sleek luxury sedan pulled off onto the side of the road. He signaled, then pulled up behind it, stepping out once the car had been braked. As he did so, Petra did as well, a smile on her face as they met between the two vehicles, and they greeted each other with a hug.
“It’s been a long time.” she said after she pulled away.
“I’ve been bad about keeping in touch, I know. But at least I’m not as bad as Vince?” he offered.
This made her laugh. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t have been able to properly respond to you anyway recently. Enough for now – follow me to the house.”
They both got back into their cars, and he followed her to a surprisingly modest (for Brandon) house. Once past the locked gates, he followed her up the driveway, and parked in front of the door, where they then shut off their cars. Emilio opened the door as they approached, and she gestured for him to follow her, after pausing to ask Emilio to please bring brunch to her room.
“You haven’t eaten?” he asked with surprise.
“Neither have you.” she said with a slightly playful smile.
“I’d ask how you knew, but -“ he began.
“I can hear your stomach. As for me, I haven’t been awake long.”
“Schedule off?”
“I’m slowly adapting. Do you know anything about what happened to me?” she said, looking back at him once they reached her room.
“Marcus explained. He said that’s why he was here. I’m glad to hear you’re better.” he said, smiling at her as she opened the door.
“You and me both.” she said. The room was very like her, decorated with a simple elegance. Sun shone through the windows, making everything appear more cheerful. They took up seats on the small sofa she had in her room. Once they were settled, Emilio appeared, leaving a tray of food on the coffee table for them before giving them privacy.
“What brings you to Vegas though?” Petra asked, but not before taking a plate and having a nibble of food.
“Marcus wrote me, about some kid that’s got his interest right now. I came, wanted to warn the kid away from Marcus, and to make sure he didn’t say anything about – oh, son of a bitch, he said something to Marcus about me being here.” he grumbled, taking the other plate, so he could eat.
“I’d need a name to have any remote idea of who you could be talking about – it’s a slim chance, mind you. I know very few people here.” she prodded.
“Nick Jackson.” he said in between bites.
“Ah, him.” she said, a bit of a smile playing on her face.
“So you do know him?” he asked.
“Yes.” she said, trying to decide on whether to have the mimosa or the tea that had been left for them.
“Good. You can tell me how to track the bastard so I can kick his ass for telling Marcus I was in town.” he grumbled.
“I will not.” she said, glaring at him a moment before selecting the tea.
“Why not?”
“For starters, I don’t know how to find him. Second, who, with the help of friends, do you think was responsible for curing me? And killing the one that caused the problem in the first place?” she added, after he opened his mouth to say something.
“Good for him.” he said.
“Besides, he belongs to Brandon, and you don’t want to piss him off, do you?”
“Nope. No thanks.” he immediately said, looking for the coffee.
“Good. Now that that’s settled, I get the feeling there’s something you want to talk about.”
“Stop it.” he said.
“Stop what?” she asked.
“Knowing me.” he sighed. “You aren’t wrong, though.”
“Tell me.” she said.
With a little more food in his system, and her encouragement, he began to talk. He told her of receiving the letter and heading out this way, of finding Nick and threatening him, of running into Vince and being summoned by Marcus, though did not say much about the talk they had had. There was a long pause before he mentioned he’d then called her so he’d have someone to spend time with.
“Are you sure that’s everything?” she gently prompted.
After a moment, he shook his head. “I feel like I’m losing, Petra.”
Out of concern, she took his left hand, and gently reached up, untying the leather cuff he was wearing, letting it fall into his lap. She turned his hand palm up, lightly tracing the lines of his hand as she spoke.
“You trust me, yes?” she asked, looking into his eyes.
“Yes, of course.” he said.
“I want you to talk to someone. A professional. I know of someone that can help, and you can tell him everything – he’s a vampire. An Independent, if that matters.”
“I don’t -“ he began.
“Please.” she said, closing his fingers into his hand, her fingers moving into the meat of his palm. “Before you succeed.” she said, with a certain air of finality, her fingers running over his wrist, where scars old and fresh lay bare for them both to see.
“Alright.” he finally said quietly, putting the cuff back on. “I feel like I should be making a deal with you, though.”
“Oh really?” she said, sitting back and sipping at the tea she’d left off to the side.
“I’m not going to. I don’t know what I’d ask of you. But I’ll see this person. Just…set it up for me?”
“I can do that.” she said. She set her drink down, exchanging it for her phone. As she scrolled through her contacts, she got up and moved to the other side of the room, out of earshot of Jett, but still well within sight, and then placed the call.
After a few rings, a groggy voice answered. “Yes, Petra. Is everything alright?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to answer.” she said, honestly surprised he had.
“I consider you a bit of a priority. And, I am alerted more stringently for certain people in case it’s an emergency.” he gently explained.
“This doesn’t concern me, but a friend of mine, a good friend.” she said, twisting some strands of hair around her finger absentmindedly as she spoke.
“Alright.” Charles spoke, waiting for her to continue as he struggled to maintain focus.
“I’ve got him to agree to speak with someone about issues, and I’m really starting to worry about him, about losing him.” she said, pulling a little too tightly on that bit of hair twined around her, and winced slightly.
“Do you think he may hurt himself?” he prompted.
“He’s got fresher scars than what I saw last.” she said, recalling the puffy redness over the faded lines just a shade lighter than the rest of Jett’s skin.
“I see. I can make myself available immediately if need be. If you think you can keep him company until the evening, though, I will be in a much better state to help him.” he relayed, making sure to convey that he could remain awake if necessary.
“I can keep him company here until evening.” she said, her mind already thinking of ways to get him to stick around, yet have him out of the house before Brandon or Endrik awoke.
“Keep an eye on him. Be careful.” he cautioned.
“I will.” she promised.
“First thing this evening, as soon as the sun sets.” Charles told her, stifling a yawn. “I’ll clear my schedule.”
“Thank you very much. I’ll make sure he gets there.”
“Of course. How are you doing, by the way? We’ve spoken a few times since your ordeal. I know we’ve made some progress.”
“I’m doing okay. I’m slowly adapting. I know it’s going to take time.” she said. She knew she had issues to work though – not just her recent trauma and how it made her feel, but how she felt that it was no all over.
“All right. Then I will see you this evening.” Charles hung up, rather abruptly, though it wasn’t intention on his end, and Petra knew it. She took a moment to tuck the loose strand of hair she’d been playing with back behind her ear, and shut off the screen to her phone before heading back to Jett.
“You think he can help?” he asked.
She nodded, even though she wasn’t entirely certain how much he could help Jett. “You need to talk about the reasons behind those scars. I don’t want to lose the best friend I’ve got.” she said.
“I’ll try.” he promised.
“No try. You do it, ok?” she said, a mild threat in her voice.
“Alright. So what makes you think he can help me?” he asked.
“He’s been helping me.” she admitted. “But enough of our traumas. Let’s find some other way to occupy ourselves while we wait for your appointment.” she said, determined to keep her trauma to herself for now.
“Fair enough.” Jett said, not looking forward to getting into his trauma himself, all too welcome for the distraction.
Over the next eight hours, they spent time listening to music that Petra had Emilio collect for them, samples of things Liv had left behind of Nick’s musical talent, in an effort to get Jett to be less angry at the young man that had saved her. It seemed to work well enough, insofar as she could tell. Jett, for his part, was impressed, and no longer blamed Nick for letting Marcus know he were in town. He wasn’t stupid, after the anger and annoyance cleared. He knew the boy owed him no allegiance – any further thoughts he shut down, since that would lead into thoughts of Marcus, and he didn’t want to think about that ahead of his appointment.
Music, a movie or two, and shared laughter – that’s what life should be like, he thought to himself. Noting his downward turn, as well as the time. Petra took him into town for dinner, knowing that, by the time their meal was done, it would be time to see Charles. Hopefully, there would be enough distraction in town to make Jett think less – she didn’t cherish the idea of having to chase him down and drag him, literally or figuratively, to therapy.
With the sun partially set, and bellies full, they left the restaurant. Jett had been driving, and with Petra’s instructions, pulled up to the outreach center in due time, and followed her inside. Petra tugs him into the building, then begins to approach the front desk, but they are stopped by a young man around his own height, with dark, somewhat messy blonde hair and brown eyes, wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt with the center’s logo on it.
Jett felt a smile cross his face. The guy was on the cuter end of things, in his eyes. So maybe he was someone worth getting to know, at some point. Depending on how things went. He sighed inwardly.
“Hey Petra.” he said, with a somewhat confused smile.
“Hi Ryan.” she greeted warmly.
“I didn’t think this was your day.” he stated,
“Yes, but this is for my friend.” she pulled Jett over slightly. “This is my friend, Jett.”
“Is he…?” Ryan said, trailing off.
“He’s in the know.” she assured him.
“Vampire?” he said, keeping his voice low.
“No.” she responded, with a slight shake of her head.
“In that case, ice cream sandwiches.?” he offered.
“Sounds good.” she said with a smile. Jett gave her an odd look, and she just patted him on the shoulder. “Trust me.”
“There you go.” he said, handing each of them one.
“Thanks.” she said, giving off one of those w inning smiles of hers. Jett took a bite – they were fantastic. Petra wasn’t kidding when she’d said to trust her.
“Have a good one.” he said, turning back around to head to a different part of the center with a small wave.
“Finish, and I’ll take you to Charles’ office.” she said, nibbling at her dessert.
“Hmm.” Jett managed, working at finishing off his in a few more bites, and tossing the wrapper into a nearby trash can.
“Lead on, tywysoges rhyfelgar.” he said, sweeping his hand forward in the ‘lead the way’ gesture.
She narrowed her eyes at him slightly. “I’m going to let whatever you called me pass, but only because you’re a friend.” she said, lightly thumping him on the arm before leading the way.
He grinned a little as he followed, grateful she didn’t know Welsh. If she knew he’d just called her a princess (even if it was technically ‘warrior princess’), she’d thoroughly kick his ass.