The Promise of Hope Shelter

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jacob had changed his mind and wished he had not just cut his hair, because now he needed something to yank. This day had gone from bad to worse in the course of just a few hours, beginning with breakfast.

Morning had come earlier than he had planned, due to a faucet in his bathroom that sounded like the Liberty Bell clanging every time it dripped. He finally gave up trying to sleep and went running at four-thirty.

When he stepped outside, he breathed in the cooler air. Fall had arrived not with a roar, but with a whine. It wasn’t until last week that the weather had even begun to cool.

Thanksgiving was in three weeks, then the inspection—just in time for Christmas. If he wasn’t able to pass, the shelter would close before he’d even had a chance to do any real good in this world.

Jacob did some stretches on the sidewalk and made sure his Fitbit was tracking before heading off, setting a gentle pace to start. The cool air whipped around him and he was glad he’d remembered to wear his knit cap.

The smell from the bakery just two doors down wafted over him as he neared, and he made a mental note to come back and get donuts and muffins for breakfast tomorrow. His stomach growled and he wondered if it was too late to change the planned breakfast at the shelter for this morning. While he tried to eat healthy most days, oatmeal was not one of his favorite foods.

Eric, the manager of the drugstore across the street, stepped out his front door with a broom and raised his hand in greeting. Jacob waved back and watched him start sweeping fallen leaves, inwardly groaning as he imagined how many were piling up in the back of the shelter. He could already imagine Peter balking about helping.

When he reached the path at the end of the block that led through the park, he picked up the pace, urging his body to move faster and harder than usual in the mornings. Jacob wanted to feel the burn today.

He let himself build into it, breathing deeply as he glanced at the nearly empty park. He loved running there. It was a beautiful park with large oaks, elms, sycamores, and a few cottonwood trees scattered throughout, although most of the leaves were now on the ground. Just a week ago, they had been bursting with fall colors. One end of the park boasted a fairly new playground with a large swing set, some climbing equipment, and a circular slide. Was that called a tornado slide? He wasn’t sure.

There were benches throughout, made and donated by the local Nixon City Lodge members, a group of retired men—and a few women—that liked to get together weekly and play cards, bowl, and just hang out. They also donated their help to many causes, and were seen all over the city during the holidays, raising money for various charities. His grandfather had been a member, and Jacob had participated in more fundraisers than he could count in his teen years.

Jacob credited his grandfather with instilling in him the desire to help others. Which is another reason he knew the call he’d received yesterday had to be a lie. It had to be.

He wound around the park a few times before heading back to the shelter. The boys would be getting up soon and he had to make sure they were settled with their tutor before he could really start his own day. First up was a meeting with Reverend Anderson from the Nixon City Faith Church just around the corner from his shelter. While he had never met the man, Jacob couldn’t shake the sense that nothing good would come of the meeting. The only thing he really knew about the church was that it was nondenominational.

“Jacob! Good morning!”

He turned toward the voice and waved. “Hi, Jess! You’re early today,” he said, his eyebrows raised.

Jessica “Jess” Miller ran the antique store next to the bakery. She was young, probably around twenty-two, and had more energy than most teenagers. Her short pixie hair sported new green highlights and he was pretty sure she had a new eyebrow piercing, but he wasn’t going to ask. With her ivory skin, blue eyes, and upturned nose, she was adorable no matter how many piercings she insisted on adding to her skin.

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’ve got a delivery coming in early. I would so rather be sleeping in. Thank God for coffee, huh?” She smiled as she raised her large travel mug.

“Yeah,” he agreed, eager to get back and grab some himself. He waved again and made his way home.

Running usually helped clear his mind, but not this time. Where the hell was he going to get twenty-five grand? It not only scared him, but pissed him off. How could his grandfather have been so careless? He had been an educated, extremely intelligent man. Why had he let this happen? There was no way his grandfather had done what he was being accused of. It made no sense—no matter what the voice on the phone had said.

He’d decided to stick with oatmeal for breakfast rather than making a change so close to mealtime, but as he ran past the bakery again, he knew he’d return to pick out something for tomorrow.

Unfortunately, breakfast quickly spiraled out of control, starting when Peter and Jimmy accused each other of forgetting to put out the sugar and cinnamon. The argument quickly escalated into what would have come to blows had Jacob not been there.

The newest resident, Bradley, sat at the table and laughed like he hadn’t seen anything funnier in his life. Which, of course, only pissed off the other boys.

All three had been homeless before coming to The Promise of Hope Shelter. A small disagreement on the streets could be a matter of life or death, and backing down showed others you were afraid. Jacob understood, but he needed to help these boys also understand they were safe here. Part of the program was daily group therapy. A local counselor, Marcus English, had offered his services for now until Jacob could obtain more funding. Personally, Jacob really liked Marcus and hoped he would stay on when the board could afford to actually pay him.

Marcus was amazing with the boys. Jacob had worried at first that a former Marine may not be able to understand or empathize with the situations these kids had lived through. Being abandoned and abused by their families until they ran away, or being kicked out for being gay, was not something everyone could handle.

The first group meeting laid all Jacob’s fears to rest. Marcus had a commanding presence and the kids responded to him. He had all the qualifications, had passed the background check—not a criminal or s*x offender—and had led an exemplary life while in the Marines, while in college, and even now.

Because the boys were no longer in school, they were expected to participate in classes to earn their GED. Peter had balked and Bradley had made it clear he hated school, but Jimmy had seemed to like it so far.

Jacob hadn’t learned a lot about Jimmy yet, but he was sure there had been abuse in his life. He wondered how much, if any, schooling Jimmy had been able to get under his belt before he found himself on the streets.

The doorbell rang at precisely ten and Jacob made his way downstairs, hollering to the boys that he’d get it and to stay working with Greg, their tutor.

He opened the door to a pale, paunchy man wearing a black suit, white button-down shirt, and the ugliest black-and-purple-striped tie he had ever seen. Something about it reminded Jacob of those old spinning barbershop poles.

Jacob forced a smile. “Hello, you must be Reverend Anderson. Welcome to The Promise of Hope Shelter.”

The older man smiled, his full gray mustache twitching above a pair of thin lips. But the smile didn’t quite reach his pale blue eyes, nor did he extend his hand to shake. Oh, yeah, this is going to be just great.

“Hi, Reverend. Please come in. I’m Jacob,” he said politely as he waved him inside, plastering another smile on his face.

The reverend entered, making a wide arc around Jacob as he paused to take in the meager surroundings.

“We’re still settling in,” Jacob explained, shrugging from embarrassment. He knew when he was being judged, and he didn’t like it.

“I can see that. Looks like you’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

His words made Jacob’s skin crawl, and he realized his first impression was right. Definitely not going to be a good meeting.

“Would you like to meet in my office? Or here in the living area?”

“Your office would be fine. This needs to be discussed in private. It’s of a rather delicate matter, Jacob,” Reverend Anderson said, keeping his words even and low, as if afraid someone might overhear.

“Follow me,” Jacob directed and headed up the stairs.

Once settled in his office, he behind his desk and the reverend in the chair Luka had sat in last night, the thought of the handyman brought a blush to Jacob’s face and he bit back a smile.

“Look, son, I’ll get right to the point,” the reverend said.

“I appreciate that.” Jacob stared into his eyes. It was harder for a man to be rude and lie if they had to look someone in the eyes. His grandfather had taught him that.

Reverend Anderson looked away and cleared his throat. “Look, what you’re doing here…well, it’s just not…not right for Nixon City.”

The hairs on Jacob’s arms stood up, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not sure what you mean, Reverend Anderson. Do you mind clarifying?” His mild tone belied his anger. He knew exactly what this man was saying, but he was going to make him spit it out.

The older man turned back to him, his lips twisted into a frown. “Actually, I don’t mind at all. This is a nice town. Nice people. God-fearing people. There is no place for your shelter in Nixon City.” He spat out the word “shelter” with such force that spittle flew from his lips.

Jacob had come across this before, and would again, no doubt. This was the Heartland, after all, at least one church for every tractor. It wasn’t that he had anything against religion. He believed in God and grew up attending church. He despised it, however, when people used religion to spread hatred. Jacob couldn’t reconcile a loving God with the one so many people said hated anyone that fell outside their notion of “normal.”

He rose and extended his arm across the desk, offering his hand. “I thank you for your time, Reverend.”

Anderson looked shocked, but stood, refusing to shake his hand. “This isn’t the end of this discussion, Jacob.”

“Oh, but it is, Reverend. You see, I’ve worked with the city administrators and have been given the clearance to set up this shelter here.”

Anderson’s eyes narrowed into slits that nearly disappeared into his fat cheeks. “I have friends, Jacob, and I know your building isn’t up to code. Don’t count on passing the inspection.”

Jacob’s heart fell into his stomach. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Hi, honey! I took an early lunch from work,” a voice sung out from the hallway as the door swung open. Luka walked over to Jacob, who stood staring open-mouthed. “Looks like I surprised you, baby,” he said with a laugh and planted a kiss on Jacob’s cheek. “I missed you so much, I had to come see you,” he whispered loudly as he snaked his arm around Jacob’s neck and pulled him close.

Reverend Anderson stood frozen, his lips pressed tightly together in disbelief and his eyes wide with disgust.

“Hi, I’m Luka, Jacob’s better half.” Luka reached to shake the reverend’s hand. When it wasn’t reciprocated, he walked around the desk and clapped him on the shoulder.

The older man nearly jumped out of his skin, and his eyes darted between Luka and Jacob. “I’m leaving,” he said tersely. “Mark my words, Jacob. You won’t be open very long.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you leaving because of me?” Luka asked, feigning innocence. “Oh, baby,” he cooed as he looked at Jacob, “did I interrupt something important?”

Jacob finally shook himself from his stupor and a grin spread across his face. “It’s okay. The good reverend was just leaving.”

Luka came around the desk and wrapped his arm around Jacob’s shoulders, pulling him close again. Jacob fought the urge to inhale deeply as the scents of musk, sweat, and something that must be pure Luka wafted into his nose. He wondered what it meant that his d**k got hard as a rock even though a reverend was in the room.

Thank God he didn’t have to think about that too long, because Anderson left, his boots stomping down the stairs, across the entryway, and onto the porch as the front door slammed.

Luka pulled away and Jacob instantly missed his presence. He stared at the man and tried to form words, but could think of only one. “Why?”

Luka grinned, and Jacob’s belly flip-flopped. f**k, he was in trouble.

“I heard what he said through the door and it pissed me off. Was it too much?” he asked, brow furrowed. “Sorry, I sometimes don’t think before I act.”

Jacob smiled. “Hell, no, it was perfect! He was being an ass. I sort of expected it when he called to say he wanted to meet, but your timing was perfect. Speaking of that, why are you here so early?”

“I wasn’t totally lying earlier—I did get an early lunch break. So I thought I’d run my estimates over for you to review. That way, if you decide to hire me, I could start right after my shift at the hardware store.”

Jacob was impressed. “That’s great. I’ll take a look at them and contact you. Should I call the hardware store?”

“I listed my cell on the paperwork,” Luka said, a blush spreading across his caramel-colored skin as he passed over the papers.

“Thanks,” Jacob said, glancing down as he took them. He suddenly felt tongue-tied again and wondered if that blush meant Luka was attracted to him as well. He doubted it. Hot, sexy men were not usually drawn to Howdy Doody look-alikes. But Jacob would relish the memory of Luka’s arms around him again and again, he was sure about that.

“I’d better get going,” Luka said as he turned to the door.

“Wait,” Jacob blurted.

Luka pivoted on his heels and raised his eyebrows.

“Um, do you think he could really prevent me from getting this building to pass inspection?”

Luka’s gaze softened. “He can try, but I promise, if you hire me, I’ll make sure this building is up to code. I can be a bit bullheaded when I’m on a mission.”

Jacob smiled, and when Luka smiled back, lust zipped through him. He swallowed hard and nodded as he waved the papers at him. “I’ll call you soon.”

Luka nodded back and headed down the stairs. Jacob practically sank into his chair and dropped the paperwork onto his desk. What an odd day. A fight between the boys, a minister who wanted to close his shelter, and a sexy man that made him want to forget about everything but falling to his knees and worshipping his c**k.

He shook his head at his silly fantasy and set about reviewing the estimates. He didn’t know a lot about the cost of certain repairs, but they seemed reasonable. He especially appreciated how Luka had taken the time to break down the cost for each repair. He’d also noted on the side that he could purchase most of the supplies at cost through his job at the hardware store, which Jacob hadn’t even considered. Luka even wrote that he’d already talked with his boss about it. Jacob knew right away that he would hire this man.

A few minutes later, he called Luka and they agreed to start right after his shift. He saved Luka’s info on his phone and got back to work. He had a lot of things to do to get this place up and running at full capacity, including finding more funding. Hopefully the rest of the day would go smoother.

He should have knocked on wood because his day went to s**t faster than he could say “Nixon City.”

His phone had rung a few minutes after he spoke with Luka. The landline, not his cell. He immediately recognized the voice as the one from the previous day.

“You get the money?”

“Who is this?” he demanded.

“I told you I wouldn’t put up with this crap. You want everyone to know what a pervert your grandfather was?” the voice sneered.

“You say this, but what proof do you have? I don’t believe you. I think you’re the crazy one,” Jacob yelled, then slammed down the receiver.

The phone rang immediately afterward, and Jacob wanted to ignore it. He really did. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let someone ruin his grandfather’s good name or cause issues for the shelter.

“Yes,” he answered, filled with apprehension.

“You little fucker. Don’t you dare hang up on me again. You understand?”

Jacob stayed quiet.

“You understand me, you little faggot?”

His skin crawled and he wanted to hang up again, but he needed to see where this was going. Jacob took a shaky breath. “I hear you.”

“Good. You want proof, you watch for it in your inbox. I’ll email it to your business address. And don’t try to trace it. I’m not an i***t. You won’t be able to trace it.” With that warning, the man hung up.

Jacob shuddered and turned on his laptop. He opened his email and waited. And waited. He waited over two hours until the electronic ping announced new mail.

He inhaled sharply and hovered his cursor over the heading, “Your Grandfather is a Pervert!” He clicked the email and saw it contained a video. He wondered if he should open it. Could this be a con to get into his computer? That wouldn’t make sense, though. He certainly didn’t have a lot of money or any deep, dark secrets for anyone to steal. He did a quick scan to make sure it was just a video and not a virus, then clicked on it.

Once he hit PLAY, an image of a motel came into view. Jacob recognized it as one of the seedier motels outside Kansas City that many homeless teenagers stayed at occasionally. When he had decided to open the shelter, he had done a lot of research, especially in Kansas City, knowing a lot of the kids would have gravitated to a bigger urban area, rather than small towns like Nixon City. He’d been dismayed to find that this particular motel was a hotbed of prostitution. Mostly gay teens. It was a dismal place where the management looked the other way for a paltry few dollars. After meeting the current manager, Jacob had assumed he was too stoned to care what was going on.

The camera had captured the parking lot, and Jacob watched an old Buick come into view, then gasped when he saw his grandfather park in front of the entrance and climb out. He stopped at the passenger window for a moment before heading inside. The video must have been spliced, because he was back out in a couple of seconds with a set of keys, and drove the car a few spots down, parking in front of a door before getting out again.

The image was a little grainy, but it was definitely his grandfather, and he recognized the Nixon City Lodge logo on the back window. He gasped again when a young man also climbed out of the car, following his grandfather into the motel room. Then the scene cut to his grandfather coming out, but turning back to hug the kid in the doorway.

Jacob’s stomach fell, and he felt sick. He forced himself to watch as the door shut and his grandfather got into his car and drove away before he slammed his laptop closed. He raked his fingers through his hair and once again wished it was longer. He needed to grab onto something. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and held tightly as a cold sweat broke out over his skin. Nausea bubbled up, and he fought to slow his breathing before he hyperventilated. His world had been rocked—again—and his vision grew gray as he felt himself going under while waves of terror lapped at him.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him, and his back braced against something hard.

“Breathe, Jacob. Breathe for me,” a deep voice floated into his ear.

What was he saying?

“Breathe, Jacob. Now!”

God, why didn’t the damn voice shut up and let him fall back under. His lungs hurt. He just wanted to slide into the darkness again.

“NOW!”

His mouth opened and air whooshed out before he drew air into his lungs, nearly gagging at the intensity. The pain in his lungs ebbed and his vision cleared. He glanced around as he took another deep breath. He was on the floor. In his office. He saw arms around his waist. Confusion plucked at him.

“Good. Just keep breathing steadily.”

He recognized that voice. The owner’s name was on the tip of his tongue. He craned his neck and caught a glimpse of wavy, thick, black hair and a scent he remembered from earlier. Luka. It was Luka holding him.

Jacob was torn between embarrassment of being caught in the middle of a panic attack and the safety he felt while wrapped in Luka’s arms. Technically, this was the second time the man had rescued him in less than…two…maybe three hours. Okay, the first time was not really rescuing, but Luka had still helped him during a bad situation.

He squirmed and tried to pull away, but Luka’s strong arms tightened around his waist.

“Give it a few more minutes.”

Jacob nodded and slumped against the wall of muscle behind him. His heartbeat sped up and he realized he could feel Luka’s beating hard into his back. Had Luka been worried about him?

It felt so natural to be in the man’s arms. Jacob hadn’t dated in quite some time, mainly due to his grandparents’ death and trying to start this new shelter, but he also hadn’t met anyone that had piqued his interest. And Luka definitely piqued his interest. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he hadn’t made the best impression on Luka, although he was just as confident that Luka wouldn’t soon forget meeting him.

“I’m okay,” he whispered.

“Okay,” Luka replied, pulling back. “No quick moves.”

Jacob nodded and waited for Luka to stand before he tried to push himself from the floor. His legs felt like jelly, so he was glad when Luka reached down like a lifeline. He grabbed onto the hand and let Luka pull him to a standing position.

They faced each other, Jacob eye level with Luka’s chin. He was too embarrassed to say anything and too wobbly to move, so he concentrated on the cleft in Luka’s chin.

“Jacob?”

Luka’s voice washed over him and brought him warmth. He caught himself before he leaned his forehead into Luka’s perfect golden skin. “Mmm?”

Luka’s thumb gently nudged up his chin until Jacob looked into his eyes. Dark chocolate eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?” Luka whispered, his hot breath caressing Jacob’s flesh. He shivered and nodded.

“Want to tell me what that was about?”

Jacob made a half-hearted attempt to look away, but Luka cupped his chin and held him in place. “It was a panic attack. I get them occasionally. I haven’t had one in years.” Since the day his grandparents had been killed in a car accident, to be exact, but he kept that information to himself.

“What brought it on?”

He wasn’t going to tell him that either. How could he? His pulse sped up and he trembled.

“Okay, you don’t have to tell me right now. I just want to make sure you’re safe,” Luka whispered. The man’s thumb rubbed along his jaw, and he leaned into Luka’s hand. His touch felt so nice.

“Why are you here?”

“The hardware store was slow and my boss let me go a couple of hours early. I grabbed some supplies for the first repair jobs. My boss said you can pay him directly if you want or give the money to me and I can pay him.”

Jacob nodded. Supplies. Repairs. Money. He sighed. Money wasn’t the root of all evil, but it was the root of his problems. Never enough money.

He pulled back and looked up at Luka. “Thanks for catching me,” he whispered.

Luka smiled. “My pleasure,” he drawled out. “I’m going to start on the thermostat and get that replaced.”

Luka’s voice melted over Jacob, and he felt a little disoriented. “Um, okay, yeah…um…yeah. Thanks.” s**t. He sounded incoherent and Luka’s gaze roamed over him, slowly and thoroughly.

Eventually, Luka turned and Jacob watched him move into the hallway. A warmth blanketed him. Something told him that Luka was going to become an important part of his life. As a friend, lover, or something else remained to be seen. But he couldn’t wait to find out.