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Even if Arden had to send the men far away, at least he would know that they weren't suffering. None of them were going to end up in the gutter. Hell, he would go home, speak to his mother, and get the money that was owed to him. And once they were all set up, he would take the throne if he had to.
He would be in the one place he had no desire to return to. But they would all be safe. And Arden would rather die before anything happened to them.
You should turntail and run right now. Get the hell out of dodge before you end up back behind bars.
Bash gazed around the darkened club and sighed as he pushed his thick fingers through his hair. His strategy had always been to get the hell away from trouble before it even started. Too many times he had stuck around and put his neck on the line for people. All it had ever gotten him was a lonely existence and before his freedom, a locked cage in a room full of supernaturals.
It was no way to live.
He knew he should pack his shit and hit the road, but his stomach turned and he frowned.Where could he go?There weren't many safe places for shifters. Even less so for the bear variety. They were too big, too growly, and too dangerous to be around delicate little humans or waif-like supernaturals. Bear shifters were seen as brutes and while he didn't mind playing guard at PGD, Bash wasn't in the business of killing. He'd vowed to himself that he would never take another life again.
The sound of pouring liquid drew his attention. Bash gazed around the space and frowned. No one was supposed to be down here. After Arden's meeting, most of the hosts were making plans to find somewhere to stay until things could get straightened out.
He turned the corner and glanced over the bar. Arden sat on the floor with a black bottle in his hands. He drank deeply from it and sat it down before his gaze flickered up and landed on Bash.
The bear shifter froze in his tracks. Arden's eyes looked both pissed and incredibly...sad. He moved as if on autopilot and rounded the bar. Arden didn't move as he leaned up against it, but he did go back to drinking, drowning his sorrows in what Bash knew was a bottle of dragon wine.
Bash reached onto the shelf and grabbed himself a bottle of vodka. He sank to the floor across from Arden and poured himself an impressive glass of it before he held out his drink. Arden hesitated and then he clinked his bottle against Bash's glass. They threw back their drinks in silence and when they were done Bash sat another glass on the floor and took Arden's wine.
"It's better in a glass," Bash said. "Makes you feel like you're not a total damn failure."
Arden laughed dryly. "I don't think a glass is going to help that tonight."
"Still."
They fell back into silence, but Bash was surprised that it didn't feel uncomfortable. In fact, one of the things he liked about Arden was that he didn't have to talk like he did around other people. They all seemed so uneasy when someone his size didn't speak, but he liked being quiet. It allowed Bash to be by himself, to figure out his own shit.
He poured Arden another drink before he grabbed his bottle and topped himself off again as well. This time, it was Arden who held out his drink. Bash gazed into his intoxicating eyes and their glasses clinked once more. The liquor burned down his chest and made his cheeks burn before he set it down and started the process all over again.
"What's the plan?" Bash asked. "For you?"
Arden shrugged. "Once I get everyone out of here, I'll be going home. It's not like I ever needed this place to survive, but..." He glanced around. "Maybe I do," he mused. "I have a home, butthishas felt more like home than any other place I've ever been to. Feels like I'm abandoning my child."
The sorrow in his voice made Bash's chest ache. He stared at Arden as the man took in the sights around him. He reached out and laid his hand on top of Arden's. The man looked at him and blinked as if seeing him for the first time before he smiled and turned his palm up. As they held hands, Arden squeezed and Bash's heart broke for him.
Shit. This man had gotten into his head.
Maybe it was the vodka, but he could admit to himself that Arden was sexy. The gray in his hair and beard, the muscles that strained against his shirt, and those deep, soulful eyes that drew you in? If Bash had a type, Arden would be it. And it wasn't just the physical. No, it was the way he commanded the room. The look in his eye when he gave instructions. And the pressure of the man's palm wrapped around his throat when he'd gripped him tightly. That sensation had lasted for so long and Bash had secretly wished for more. He wanted a fight, to tumble with the greatest until they were both hot, sweaty, and too pissed off to do anything but fuck.
"You drinking or what?" Arden asked.
"Of course." Bash picked up his glass and threw more of the clear liquid down his throat. He contemplated his words before he spoke. "If you're going home, where does that leave the rest of us?" he asked. "The ones without homes?"
Arden gazed at him wearily. "I don't know."
Bash scoffed. "You don't know? That's all you have to say? That's pathetic."
"What do you want me to say?" Arden shot back.
"You took us in!" Bash snapped. "I want you to say you'll take responsibility. This might not be your fault, but it’s in your hands. All of us. So what? You're going to turn us out into the streets? Then what? What happens when you read about us months for now? That we ended up dead in the street?"
Arden groaned. "You're fucking dramatic tonight."
Pain welled in Bash's chest. "Fine. Have a good night, Arden. Thanks for the fucking job while it lasted," he grunted as he stood up.
A hand wrapped around Bash's arm and he was yanked back down to the floor. He turned on Arden and the dragon looked even more woeful than he had before.
"I can't take these guys home," Arden said slowly. "They'll find out what I did and who I am and they'll hate me."
