Jack ducked under the awning in front of the antiques shop. He looked through one of the large windows and grimaced at the display of creepy dolls and old children's toys. A dark haired porcelain doll in a pale blue dress stared back at him. She wore a handwritten note in an elegant script about her neck, tied off with a red ribbon.

Guaranteed not haunted.

Either Kieran had a sense of humor, or this was a recurring issue.

Just past the dolls and toys, Jack could make out stacked boxes and empty display cases. He hoped he wasn't throwing off Kieran's move-in schedule.

A bright flash illuminated the brick building, and a loud crack of thunder swiftly followed, startling Jack. He attempted to wipe his hand on his soaked pants before pulling the door open.

A soft chime from the bells that hung on the corner echoed through the shop. Jack cautiously stepped inside, glad of the warmth that surrounded him.

He checked the inside of his bag; it was still dry and the best investment he'd made in years. He set his bag down, pulled off his hoodie, and pushed his wet hair back, only to have half of it fall back in his face. He looked around in awe at the display cases that carried foreign objects. Everything was so clean and organized. Even the unpacked boxes were clearly labeled.

He felt out of place in the store and wondered if it was too late to turn back. The computer store he frequented across the street still had the back lights on. They might be willing to help him out.

"There you are!" Kieran walked out from behind one of the taller display cabinets. "I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind. I'm glad to see I was wrong," he said as he weaved his way around the old furniture and boxes that littered the room.

Jack glanced back at the door in uncertainty. "Can I use your phone?" he asked, pushing his hair back again.

"Any particular reason?"

"I locked myself out of my apartment," he quietly replied.

Kieran raised a brow and smiled. "Oh? I've done that before. Sometimes on purpose."

"Look! It's not like that! I didn't do it on purpose. I just left my key and phone. My friend has my spare, so can I call him?"

Kieran reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He unlocked it and handed it to Jack. "There you are."

"Thanks." Jack dialed Sam's number and waited. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure if it was due to being soaked or Kieran watching him.

"Fairchild."

Jack sagged at the sound of Sam's tired voice. "Are you busy?" he asked. The chirp of a siren came over the phone. "Never mind."

"Yeah… I'm gonna be tied up here until at least 2 AM."

"Oh. Um… I'm locked out of my apartment. Candy doesn't happen to have the spare key, does she?" There was something else he needed to ask, but the question eluded him.

"I don't trust her with it. Besides, she's off seancing and decided to join the forgotten phone club. She kidnapped Tara, so if it's an emergency, they're about an hour out of town."

"Shit. That was tonight. Right." There went his backup of crashing on Tara's couch. The universe was conspiring against him. He should have ignored the weather report and paid better attention to the clouds.

"Where are you?"

Jack hesitated in his answer.

"Well, wherever you are, if you can safely stay the night, or at least until I'm free, then do so. I don't want you wandering the streets. This… Just stay put. Unless you want me to see about sending someone by."

"I can take care of myself," Jack grumbled.

"Oh, yes," Sam said flatly. "Get drunk then beat up. That's a terrific health plan. Where can I sign up?"

"Hold on." Jack turned to Kieran with a hopeful smile. "Would you be willing to give me a ride?"

"I'm afraid my car is in the shop," Kieran said with a grimace. "It was a long drive to get here, and now there's a sound I'm not familiar with. I can offer to call you a cab?"

"No, that's…" Jack's chest tightened at the thought of owing someone. Being under someone's thumb. Something small being held over his head and more being added to the pile with each day, never being able to dig his way out…

He blinked at the floor and frowned as Sam's voice drifted over the phone. He needed to stay put and out of danger. "Can I, uh, stay here until around two in the morning?" Jack's face heated up as Kieran smiled. "That's when my friend gets off," he quickly added.

"You can stay as long as you like," Kieran offered.

Somehow, Jack knew Kieran would say something like that. It wasn't ideal, but he had a witness on the line in case something happened. "I'll call back around two then," he said to Sam.

"Should I call this number if I don't hear from you?"

"I should be okay. But if you don't hear from me by ten in the morning, then I was last seen by Kieran O'Byrne at his antique place. Either he did it or one of the dolls. Bye." Jack handed the phone back to Kieran. "Looks like I'm stuck here."

"So I heard. Planning on being murdered?"

He winced and shrugged. "I guess that was kinda tasteless. Sorry."

"At least you feel comfortable enough to joke," Kieran said as he leaned back on an empty display case. "Are you certain you don't want to call a cab?"

"I'm kinda broke and don't feel like being a charity case." At least, without being able to check his accounts, Jack had to assume he was broke. Half of him said he was fine, but the other, louder half insisted he was barely able to make ends meet. Always late on rent, and yet he had yet to be evicted. His eyes shifted to the side as confusion settled over him.

"Understandable."

"Sorry I ruined our uh…date. Thing." Jack stared at the floor, watching as droplets of water fell from his hair. A small puddle was forming around him. He should offer to clean it up and stop flooding Kieran's nice floor.

"Would you like to dry off?"

"Oh, uh… Sorry." He gestured to the windows. "It's raining outside."

Kieran laughed softly and gestured to the back of the store. "I noticed. It's put a bit of a damper on my plans. Come, follow me. My flat is just above the store."

"That's convenient."

"Yes, it's just one bill for the whole building. Saves on expenses in the long run," Kieran replied as he led the way to a backroom lined with boxes and framed paintings. Beside a large grandfather clock was a set of narrow stairs, leading up into darkness. He flicked on the light switch and started up the steps.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor in near silence, Jack's shoes squelching with each step. The dim light only made the narrow stairwell more ominous, and Jack's eyes darted along the walls as his imagination came up with various deaths for him in what he would forever think of as the murder stairs.

Once at the top landing, Kieran held the door open for Jack, and Jack slowly entered the apartment, half expecting something that was a step up from his own. He tried to keep the surprise off his face.

It was an open layout for the living room and kitchen with a couple walls of exposed brick. Sleek wood and leather furniture that matched the decor was spread across the large space. A large television hung on the wall opposite the couch. The kitchen had matching appliances and a cute breakfast bar separating it from the rest of the open layout. Large windows faced the street below, framed by curtains tied back with tassels.

Jack swallowed down his sense of longing as it was replaced with dread.

He didn't want to play Pretty Woman with Kieran. In his daydreams, he could easily play the part. But here, faced with the actual possibility of trading sex for an upgraded lifestyle? And what if Kieran wanted something else? Something worse? He'd take his crummy mattress and lack of an oven any day.

His thoughts looped back into each other as he frowned at one of the windows. He was having trouble thinking straight. What was Kieran expecting from him? Spread legs? A bared wrist?

Thunder cracked, rattling the windows, and Jack flinched. His train of thought was lost, and he was left wondering why his fists were clenched so tightly.

"I'm certain you'd like a nice, warm shower," Kieran said as he placed a hand on Jack's shoulder and guided him through a hall toward the bathroom. "I can loan you some dry clothes."

"Thanks, but I—"

"I insist. You'll feel much better. I'll find you something to change into. Take as long as you want." He gave Jack a light push and continued down the hall.

Jack cautiously stepped over the threshold and into the most expensive looking bathroom he'd ever been in. It was straight out of a designer magazine. He wanted to be pampered, but he never imagined anything like this. It was too much. He counted as he breathed slowly and took in the room's details.

Burgundy accents on white, metalwork in a golden tone, and brightly polished porcelain. There was a pedestal sink below an ornate, oval mirror, a cast iron tub with lion's feet, and a glass shower. Even the toilet was a pristine white with a rich burgundy seat cover that matched the bathmats laying on the hardwood floor. The shower door was frosted with a clear section in the design of a rose. He peeked into the large shower and frowned at the extra knobs.

Everything was shiny and new, and the dated aesthetic worked. He was pretty sure the building didn't come with all this work already done. Not at the price it had been bought for. But, if there was enough money involved, then everything could have been renovated within the two months of Kieran's purchase of the property and when he opened up shop. He felt a pang of guilt at being constantly suspicious of Kieran when he was the one snooping around.

Jack looked at himself in the mirror, and his spirits sank further. He was completely out of place. His imagination didn't make enough money for him to even dream about such a rich environment.

He turned to lock the door, only to find it didn't have one. Was that to code? Did bathrooms require locks? Was this a murder bathroom? He sighed in dismay and looked back at the shower. The longer he stared, the more tempting it became.

He decided to give Kieran the benefit of the doubt. If he died, at least he'd die warm and in the lap of luxury. Definitely a step up from last time.

He breathed slowly as he took in his surroundings with a frown. He'd just been thinking of something. He shook his head as he peeled off his wet clothing and stuck them in the tub to drain. His whole night had been thrown off, and he was running the risk of showing Kieran what a crazy loser he was. He hoped a warm shower would recenter him.

He opened the shower door and reached for the largest knob, going for water. He paused, staring at his arm and the thick and thin lines of scars that covered it. If he ever needed to scare Kieran off, all he had to do was roll up his sleeves. He frowned at a long scar that ran from just above his elbow and diagonally toward his wrist. It was old, but he had no memory of where it came from.

He ran a finger along it, shivering at the thought of the awkward angle he would have held the knife to cause it. It was one of the larger scars, but he couldn't remember seeing it the last time he saw his bare arm.

He glanced back at the bathroom door, listening for any evidence of Kieran's return. It would be awful if Kieran happened to walk in on him, naked and covered in gruesome scars. He heard nothing and swallowed as he turned his attention back to the shower and fiddled with the knobs until he figured them out and adjusted the water temperature.

For the next fifteen minutes of his life, Jack was in Heaven.