Page 37 of Edge

Jory had written thelyrics during his grief after Ramsay’s death, and he wasn’t goingto share. The words had come from within, a song of regret andpoignant memories, and even Damian’s eyes had filled with tearswhen Jory sang along to it when it was being written.

Ramsay deserved to beremembered.

He shook his head. “Nope.The words just came out.” He grabbed another Coke from the coolerand popped the tab. “I dug deep down inside and dredged up all theold teenage angst feels.”

Sooty didn’t lookconvinced. “Hmmm. Well, you know I’m always here if you need totalk.” She took another satisfying gulp of her appropriated Cokeand let out a ladylike belch. “How’s your gorgeous boyfriend? Youtwo still disgustingly into each other?”

Jory laughed. “Yeah, weare.”

“So when areyou going to move out of the flat you’re in with dickwad Roger andmove into a new place with Damian?” Sooty swung the wide skirt ofher dress to the side and hooked her legs over the arm of thechair.

Fuck. Notanother person asking me this. I. Can’t. Deal.

Truth was, Damian hadbeen asking him the same question. They spent most of their time inhis flat, and Jory had even moved some things in. Dumont spent agreat deal of his time grumbling about how much travelling he wasdoing to look after him and drive him around between places. Jorypolitely reminded him Damian’s place was only a mile away from theflat he and Roger shared and Dumont needed to shut the fuckup.

It wasn’t so much aboutmoving in together completely per se—it was a little too soon for adecision. It was more about Jory dealing with the tenuous situationand breaking free of Roger’s hold. So far, neither of them hadproduced any perfect solution, but Damian wanted Jory to go to thepolice and tell them about the blackmail. Lately, he’d been alittle tetchy about it.

He’d looked at Jory withthose sparkling green eyes of his and said firmly, “Babe, you can’tkeep doing this. We need to think about our future together. Imean, how long can we let this go on?”

Jory was thrilled hisboyfriend was doing some long-term planning. It boded well fortheir relationship. But going to the police? It could still costmore lives and tragedy, a situation in which other people gothurt.

I’m not readyfor that yet.

“Yeah, yeah,believe me, we’re dealing with it,” he said irritably. “We’re notready for the whole moving in together thing yet, but I am lookingat getting my own place, sans Roger.”

Over recentweeks, Roger’s behaviour had deteriorated, and for the first time,Jory thought perhaps drugs werethe reason. Even Damian had noticed Roger’sdifficulty in speaking, his incontrollable twitching and moodswings. It was yet another reason for Jory to get the hell out ofDodge and leave Roger behind.

The questionwas how.

He hated lying to Sooty,but telling her the whole story wasn’t on the cards rightnow.

She narrowed her eyes andgave him an assessing glance. “Okay. If you say so. Honestly, Jory,one of these days you’re going to have to trust me to tell me thewhole fucking story. I thought we were friends.” She sounded hurtand Jory felt like complete crap.

“Weare friends, Sooty. It’swhy I don’t want to involve you in my mess.” He decided to throwher a bone. “I promise you I’ll talk to you about it soon. Let’sget the album finished, and then I can focus on the shitstormcalled Roger. Do we have a deal?” It was no idle promise. One wayor another, he had to resolve the situation for Damian’s sake aswell as his own.

Sooty harrumphed loudly.“I suppose so. But I’m not going to forget it, so don’t think Iwill. I suppose I can wait a bit longer.”

“Very graciousof you,” Jory grunted, relieved. “Now, let’s get back to work.These songs won’t sing themselves.”

He did resolve to callRoger later though and tell him they needed to talk. Again. Atleast he could try even if he’d rather shove a blunt stick in hiseye.

***

Jory let himself intoDamian’s flat and flung his rucksack onto the floor. “Honey, I’mhome,” he called out as he walked directly over to the makeshiftcocktail cabinet and poured himself a Jack Daniels. He frowned whenhe heard no answering chuckle or affectionate rejoinder.

“Damey? Youhere?” There was no response. Jory walked over to the couch and laydown, toeing off his boots and sighing in relief when his feetsprang free. Perhaps he’s down in thecinema or popped out to the shops. Joryclosed his eyes and let the deep solitude of the flat soak intohim. All he heard was the clock ticking on the mantelpiece,rhythmic and soothing.

He must’ve drifted offbecause the next thing he knew, he was being gently shakenawake.

“Hi,sleepyhead. Dinner’s in the kitchen. I didn’t have time to makeanything so we’re eating Indian tonight. I got you the FishKoliwada dish you like so much.” Damian wrinkled his nose adorably.“Yuck. I can’t think of anything worse.”

Jory blinked awake andlaughed softly. “I am aware of your hatred for all thingsfishy.”

Damian pressed a softkiss to his lips. “Come on. Up you get. Let’s eat. I’mstarving.”

Jory followed Damianthrough to the kitchen. “Where did you get to? You’re usually homewhen I get here.”

Damian rolled his eyes ashe set out the plates and got the food ready. “Can you get us acouple of beers please?” He rattled cutlery. “Yeah, Dave had a bitof a quandary. First, one of the toilets blocked up, and we had toclean it out.” He glanced at Jory, who was trying to sniffpolitely. “Don’t worry, we cleaned up. It wasn’t anything major.Then this bloody jealous wanker decided to follow his ex-girlfriendinto one of the theatres and cause a ball ache. I had to call thepolice to come and escort his arse out.”