Jack jumped as the door opened, but Mark just stepped back from him. The man Jack had always associated as Mark's dad came in, stomping his snow covered boots on the mat. Coughing a little, the man looked up before tensing at the sight of them. Jack felt like he'd been caught doing something bad but wasn't sure what he'd done. Mark cleared his throat, saying rather distantly. "Roscoe, this is Jack. The Baker." Jack cringed internally. He was on a first name basis with his adoptive dad? Roscoe's eyes darted between him, retorting defensively. "I know who he is. Why is he here?" Mark shrugged, saying casually in return. "We're just talking." Roscoe slowly stomped closer, causing the Jack to press himself firmly against the wall to avoid him. Glaring down Mark, Roscoe sneered out in a dark tone. "Talking? About what?" Mark didn't flinch when he answered coolly. "A shelf broke. He wants me to fix it." Roscoe looked at Jack, asking with clear mistrust in his voice. "That true, boy?" Jack nodded, prompting Mark to state out sourly. "You think I'm lying?" Roscoe shoved Mark up against the counter, snapping out into Mark's face. "YES! I just talked to Mr. Stanton. He says you did the job and left early with someone. That's two hours unaccounted for before curfew hit. Who were you with?"
Mark rolled his eyes, prompting Roscoe to smack Mark across the cheek. The sound of it made Jack jump. He'd never been hit like that, and he'd never seen anyone else get hit like that. Roscoe pointed a stern finger at Mark's face, snapping sharply. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, young man! If you're screwing around and putting the engagement that I worked so hard to arrange at risk, I'll lose it!" Mark stared at the sink, refusing to say a word as his cheek turned a soft shade of red. Roscoe grabbed the front of Mark's shirt, yelling out. "WELL? Who were you with?" Jack didn't like where this was going and blurted aloud. "With me!" Mark jerked his head to look at him in shock, just as Roscoe looked at him. Jack shifted on his feet but told Roscoe softly. "He wanted me to make a special pastry for her. I was running him through some ideas for it and the cost. We settled on an exchange. My shelf for his pastry." Jack had never lied so hard in his life, but the words rolled off his tongue with ease and with a sincerity that scared himself a bit. Roscoe released Mark, calming down as he said more collectedly. "I see. Did the shelf do that?" Jack looked to the bloodstain on his shirt, before answering promptly. "No. Some drunks cornered me in an alley. Mark scared them off."
Turning his eyes back to Mark, Roscoe told him under his breath. "You should help him get the shelf done and finish the pastry for her. I'm sure she'll be surprised." Mark nodded, gesturing Jack to start heading toward the door. Slipping on his red cloak, he lingered only long enough for Mark to get his toolbox and then led him outside. Outside, light snow flurries fell as they briskly walked away toward the bakery. The moment they were out of earshot of Roscoe, Jack asked a little timidly. "Does he hit you like that a lot?" Mark snorted, mumbling out. "Not until recently. He thinks I'm turning into a problem child. Since our fight over the engagement and my clear lack of interest in what he deems the prettiest girl my age. He thinks I'm suddenly ungrateful." Jack slowed a bit, whispering discreetly. "Why would he get so angry though? I don't get it." Mark smirked to himself, then pulled Jack to a stop. Releasing his arm, Mark touched Jack's chin and chuckled out. "Have you seen your face? He probably thought I was kicking your ass with that shelf. Probably thought I was blackmailing you or something." Jack touched his face, wincing as he felt how sensitive his cheekbone was. Mark started walking on, muttering over his shoulder. "Guess, you're going to have to deal with me hanging around the bakery today."
Jack stumbled, blurting out in shock. "What?" Mark shrugged, telling him flatly. "You brought this on yourself. I can't be seen wondering around if I'm supposed to be working and YOU owe me a pastry to give to-" Mark stopped talking and stopped short. Jack was lost in his thoughts and didn't realize Mark had stopped until he ran into him. Mark turned to glare at him a little, before Carolyn rushed up to them. She blushed when Mark met her eyes but held out something wrapped in a work cloth to Jack. Smiling, she told him excitedly. "Hey, take a look and tell me what you think. You told me to take creative liberty and I did. I think it is some of my best work!" Jack carefully reached out to pull the cloth back, while she blurted out a little worried. "Whoa... Jack, who gave you that shiner?" Jack froze, asking perplexed. "A what?" Beside him, Mark mumbled out. "Blackeye." Blushing, Jack shrugged out to her. "It's nothing. Just a few drunks." Carolyn huffed to herself, replying nicely. "Oh, geez, Jack. You have to be careful." Jack uncovered the dagger that he'd commissioned her to make, answering excitedly. "I should do a better job of that now."
Looking over the shiny dagger, Jack grinned. It was everything he had hoped for and more. The dagger was a decent size and made in beautifully polished steel. The hilt of the dagger had two howling wolf heads raised up with bright sapphire eyes. The grip of the dagger was wrapped in black leather strips with what looked like little star studs and the pummel held a clear rounded crystal that was protected by a thin outlining of steel to hold it in place. Upon seeing his reaction, she chuckled out hopefully. "You like it? I've had wolves on the brain lately... Obviously... and just felt inspired to do something dazzling." Cringing a little, she added a bit sadly. "However... There is one tiny problem. See. When you asked the price originally. I gave you the price for a standard dagger and I kind of... got carried away, as you can see... Sooo, my dad kind of wants you to pay the difference to cover the value of the materials that I added..." Jack recoiled his hand before touching the dagger, asking with concern. "How much more...?" Carolyn shifted anxiously on her feet, mumbling out completely embarrassed. "A smidge past a hundred...?"
Jack's jaw dropped and he blurted out in horror. "Carolyn! I can't go above fifty! Fuck, if I wanted to pay that much, I would have just commissioned a damn sword!" Carolyn shifted her weight more, telling him desperately. "I know and I'm sorry... but I already made it. And you know how my dad is. He doesn't think he can resell it with this price tag... He'll melt it down..." Jack shrugged, telling her seriously. "Carolyn, I can't afford it! It's not what I asked you to make." Carolyn tensed like she was going to yell something, until Mark held up a coin purse between them. Taking the dagger from her, he put the coin purse into her hand and told her gently. "That should cover it." Squeezing the leather coin purse, she smiled and hugged Mark tightly. Mark hugged her back, while she told him happily. "Oh, thank you, Mark. Thank you so much." Jack's heart sank to the pit of his stomach, forcing him to walk away. His day just wasn't getting any better. Making his way up to the Bakery door, he fumbled to unlock it and slipped inside. He wanted to hate Mark for taking what was meant to be his but couldn't bring himself too. It was a lot of money. Money he just didn't have. Even with his business being as successful as it was.
He'd have to save for months and neglect the supplies to bake anything just to cover it. There were reasons why Knights competed in tournaments and Hunters were always hunting. They needed BIG cash just to upkeep their equipment. Sighing, he unbuckled his cloak and hung it up. He was just starting to clean up his counter a bit, when Mark walked in. Shaking the snow off himself, he casually asked Jack. "Are you mad at me?" Jack slammed a drawer shut without looking at him, coolly answering. "No. Why would I be mad?" Mark exhaled heavily, moving closer to the counter when he said calmly. "I can think of a few reasons." Jack shrugged, pulling an empty basket off the shelf to take into the back, saying flatly. "Well, I'm not. I'm just... Doing what I do best." Walking up to a warming rack, Jack started to restock the basket with cooled cookies. From the doorway to the kitchen, Mark said lightly to him. "What's that? Avoiding people?" Jack stopped piling cookies in the basket to glare at Mark. Mark twirled the dagger between his fingers, staring back at him without any clear emotion on his face. Holding the basket to his chest, Jack snapped out. "You're one to talk. Give me one good reason not to cry wolf."
Mark lifted his chin, telling him openly. "Your Granny. You need my help." Jack set down his basket on the counter, asking firmly. "Why? I'm pretty sure that I can find her on my own." Mark slowly walked into the kitchen toward him, whispering casually. "The woods are not safe. Even for adults." Jack's hand trailed behind him discreetly over the counter for a weapon, while his eyes were drawn to the way Mark slid his nails over the long counter as he moved toward him. Mark's nails seemed to grow out a little, showing off beautiful white nails that were human looking but thicker. They didn't come to a point but were rather rounded and smooth looking. Mark's hand stopped, his nails tapping on the wooden counter a little playfully. Jack gulped, slowly following Mark's arm up to meet his eyes. Staring into his deep brown eyes, Jack asked in a wispy voice. "Are you trying to scare me?" Mark shook his head just a little, answering in a sudden deep soothing tone of voice. "No... You just bring something out in me. Makes in hard to resist." Jack's heart started to race, when he nervously asked. "Resist what? Killing me?" Jack waited for Mark's eyes to change, waited for him to attack. Instead, Mark just blinked and answered in his same deep voice. "I don't know. But I know the others are looking for you."
Jack licked his dry lips, whispering almost breathlessly now. "Why?" Mark twirled the dagger around in his other hand to hold the blade, then lifted it to hold out the handle toward Jack's chest. Jack looked from the dagger to Mark's eyes, while Mark told him seriously. "I don't know. They don't trust me. Here. You might need it." Jack slowly moved his hand off the counter to accept the dagger. His fingers only curled around the soft handle, when Mark leaned in and whispered closer to his ear. "For the record. I don't avoid people. I just don't trust them. You'd do the same in my place." Jack inhaled sharply, turning his head away as Mark's breath warmed his ear and made him blush. As much as he tried not to think about it, he couldn't stop himself from recalling the way Mark had sounded last night. Having him so close, he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be embraced and touched like that by him. Unable to speak, Jack just nodded as a docile response. Letting go of the dagger, Mark stepped back and after clearing his throat said in his lighter tone of voice. "So. About this pastry that you plan to whip up?" Jack exhaled all his breath as Mark moved away, then answered a bit frazzled. "What about it...?" Mark scoffed, picking up a peanut butter cookie off the cooling rack as he said a little amused. "I assume you know what Carolyn likes... because I don't."
Jack snapped out of it long enough to snatch the cookie back from him, stating with sudden startlement. "Hey! Don't... Wait... Can you marry Carolyn being what you are?" Mark rolled his eyes, grumbling out as he walked around the kitchen sniffing the air. "Not if I can help it." Jack put the cookie back, moving trays and racks away from him when he tried to take things, while asking curiously. "So, you do care about saving her soul?" Mark stopped in his tracks, looking at him through a warming rack as he blurted out. "What?!" Jack blushed, mumbling out very gently in an attempt to not offend him further. "I just... They say that the wolves are the Devil's servants. Hunting souls for him. Everyone that gets involved with them... You must have heard them?" Mark grabbed the sides of the rack, staring him down as he replied with distaste. "Yes, I've heard them. Don't tell me you believe that shit?" Jack swallowed, shrugging out honestly under his breath. "I don't know what to believe. I've never met... I've never talked to anyone that I knew was a... You know." Mark tapped his nails on the metal rack, then slowly started to move around in, asking curiously in a soft low voice. "And now that you have?" Jack inched around the rack to keep it between them. Keeping his eyes on Mark, he told him truthfully. "I'm still processing it. Have you killed anyone?"
Mark traced his finger along the rack shelf as he circled it, his eyes on him when he said with an unreadable expression. "Do you think I'd still be alive if I had?" Jack moved to start circling a different cooling rack slowly, asking anxiously as Mark followed him. "If my dad killed your parents... If he knew what they were. Why did he keep you alive? Why are you not the number one suspect in what's been happening?" Mark pushed the rack to block Jack from moving around it. Mark then leaned on the rack blocking the only exit as he told him calmly. "Because he doesn't know what I am. I wasn't a wolf the night my parents died." Jack pressed himself against the wall, reluctantly struggling to ask. "How did you...? When did you...?" Flashing him a grin, Mark whispered to him in a smug tone. "It's a secret. And I don't trust you enough to tell you." Jack bit his lower lip, looking down at the dagger in his hand before looking up at him. Mark's smile faded and he moved away from the rack. Walking toward the back door, he leaned against the exact spot that he stood to watch Mark. Crossing his arms, Mark glanced out the curtain, a smaller smirk pulling at his lips.
Stepping out from the nook Mark had put him in, he rushed out quickly. "If no one knows what you are... Why reveal yourself to me? Why risk me telling everyone about you?" Mark met his eyes again, exhaling out a bit heavily. "Because... She told me to." Jack grabbed the side of the nearest rack for support, asking very tenderly. "Who? Granny?" Mark stared at him with guarded eyes that revealed nothing, but he gave him a subtle nod. Jack gripped the rack tighter, asking with concern. "Why would she send you? Why not send me a note?" Mark lowered his eyes to the floor, before answering calmly. "She's been too sick to write. Or even get out of bed. She trusts me because... she's knows what I am. She's knows I'm your best chance at reaching her... before THEY get to you." Jack inched closer to him, stating aloud. "By 'they' you mean the others like you?" Mark tilted his head back on the wall, answering softly. "Yes. She seems to know why they want you... but she wouldn't tell me. She said... you had to see it to believe it." Jack straightened himself up, asking him more confidently. "So? When can you take me to her?"
Mark glanced out the curtain, his eyes distant now when he told him. "Not tonight. There is a storm coming. I can feel it. Plus, the patrols will be doubled after the attack last night." Jack rolled his eyes, muttering out. "I don't see why. It's not a full moon tonight." Mark turned his head to stare at him with narrowed eyes as he retorted icily. "Tell that to the lunatic that likes you." Jack's grip on his dagger slipped at his words. The dagger clattered to the floor, causing Jack to jump back frantically to avoid the blade possibly impaling his foot. When the dagger stopped making noise, Jack blurted out startled. "Say what now? What guy?" Mark rolled his eyes, looking back out the window as he growled out under his breath. "Give me a break... The tall brooding asshole that has been stalking you since he got here." Jack scoffed loudly, answering a bit disgustedly. "Right... The guy is not stalking me, and he's not interested in me, ok. He's twice my age!" Mark waved to someone outside the door, growling out darkly. "Sure. I'm sure that is exactly why he's been watching this place, and only now is coming over because I let him know that I can see the stupid brute. I can smell him too, but I won't horrify you with that detail."
Jack gasped, quickly picking up his dagger and rushing to the door as Mark moved away. Peeking out the curtain, Jack saw that Mark was telling the truth and blurted out. "What the fuck?!" Mark headed out to the front of the bakery, dryly commenting over his shoulder. "If you don't mind. I'm going to pretend to fix something. Try not to get drooled on." To Be Continued...