Lifeblood - Chapter Ten
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i_read_whatSo last time, things went to hell in a handbasket, and I had to figure out a new warning tag to accommodate. Fun!
We start the chapter with Jack in pretty bad shape. He's been staked, if you recall, and while happily it's not the insta-kill that we see on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it's not particularly fun either. As Jack tells us in appropriately descriptive prose:
FIRE.
BLACK FIRE.
Black fire you can’t see or hear or smell, only feel, and by then it’s too late. It’s caught hold and is consuming everything.
Searing black fire that fills the chest from the inside out, until it should explode from the heat and end things forever, but doesn’t. The silent body lies inert, enduring and somehow still conscious. Death is too far away for sanity to remain.
He's immobilized, but still aware. He can hear Gaylen and Malcolm in the distance and catches something about Bobbi. He knows that Bobbi, having seen their faces, won't be set free despite Gaylen's promise. He keeps trying to move, but he is very dead. Moreso than usual.
It's not a benign paralysis. If anything, it's like freezing to death, with a cold numbness rising. Jack is sure that if he falls asleep (the feeling is similar to trying to stay awake after sunrise), he'll never wake up again.
He hears someone coming and thinks it's Malcolm to finish the job. But the person is more cautious:
Heart thundering now, lungs taking short drafts of air, and then a long one as he came up the last flight and stopped because now he could see me. I heard in his voice some fraction of the agony that was holding me so helpless. “Jack… Oh, my God… Oh, my dear God…” tried to speak, tried to move, but the slightest flicker of an eyelid was too much. The thing piercing my chest held me frozen. I could not tell him that some part of me was still alive.
Then Escott’s hand closed around the stake.
God, yes, pull it out.
He pulled once, twice, then stopped because the gurgling sob that came out of me startled him. Coming back to life was almost as bad as dying. The third tug did the job, and it scraped between the ribs, shook the breastbone, and finally came free. Blood welled up coldly in the wound, quenching the fire there, and the body shuddered as the numbness retreated a little.
Well, that's pretty evocative.
And Best. Boyfriend. Ever.
From Escott's face, we can assume that Jack looks really really bad. Jack tells us that for all the nonsense that he's read about vampires, there's one true bit: when vampires die, it's explosive. Apparently the walls of the stairwell are "splashed with gore" and he's lying in a substantial pool of blood.
Jack's passing out and to my hurt-comfort fan joy, we get a full on dramatic "Stay with me!" declaration. Complete with "Damn your eyes" even. Escott manages to force Jack's mouth open and starts dripping blood in.
It was hardly more than a taste, enough to seize my attention, but not nearly enough to do me any real good. I couldn’t let him risk himself.
“Stay…”
I turned my head away or tried to, but his other hand grabbed my hair and held me in place.
“Stay…”
Then I accepted it. Fully.
My teeth abruptly pierced his skin, and the red warmth flowed more freely. He recoiled—perhaps from pain, perhaps from revulsion at what I was doing—then recovered, knowing that I couldn’t help myself. I still desperately wanted to live. The instincts born from my changed nature had taken over and ignored the faint, dissonant warning that I could kill him if I went too far.
I ignored it—and I drank.
I've toyed with putting a warning tag on this one too, but I decided it probably isn't necessary. In one sense, Escott's actions are similar to Gaylen's last chapter. But the motivation and tone is different. Escott is trying to save Jack's life. Jack's aversion is more instinctive than purposeful. He can't consent, but it's not a violation in the same way as Gaylen's actions were. And of course the language isn't nearly as loaded. However, I'm open to input on this. If you think a warning tag is warranted here, I'll go back and add it.
Anyway, this isn't the tragic kind of vampire story. Jack drinks enough to keep going but has the strength to push Escott away before it gets too far. Escott is still talking, though his voice is described as a little thin, he doesn't seem too worse for wear. He tries to encourage Jack, noting that his chest wound had closed up as soon as he took "that bloody great stick out". (Jack thinks that Escott couldn't have meant that as a joke. Heh.)
Jack's coherent enough to talk now, albeit with some nasty sounding coughing and breathing issues. Escott explains that he got the location from Jack's friends (hee. Marza and Pruitt are friends! Sort of!) and he knows about Gaylen. That's why he's here. He found out a lot and was worried enough to fly back. It only took five hours and he wishes it could have been faster.
Wow. I don't know how much a plane ride would have cost in the 1930s, but I imagine that it must have been pretty fucking expensive. Hell, it'd be expensive now. Escott also picks up the folding knife he'd used to cut his arm and jokes that if he gets lockjaw, it's Jack's fault. He doesn't say anything else about what just happened, which is probably for the best.
Anyway, Escott promises to do his best to help find where Gaylen and Malcolm took Bobbi. (Poor Bobbi must be terrified! How much would she have seen?)
Eventually, Escott manages to coax Jack into moving. But it's thirty minutes to sunrise, and Jack isn't up for a lot of travel. Escott manages to get the trunk (it takes a little longer then that, which means the poor guy ends up having to shove a half-aware corpse into a box by himself, but he manages.)
Then Jack wakes up: it's the next night. He's still alive. Still feeling miserable though. ("I didn’t mention the ton of iron wrapped tightly around my chest or that my head felt like a balloon ready to pop. My nose and throat hurt as well, but they were much less noticeable.")
He immediately asks after Bobbi, and Escott shakes his head. He's been trying to find her but no luck. Both of them realize that if she's not free at this point, there's very little chance she's still alive (Noooooo). Jack is skirting on the edge of despair, but Escott keeps him focused. Pragmatism again: think, not feel. He thinks there's still a chance.
Escott's been busy during the day, actually. Jack realizes they're in Escott's dining room, with sheets of cardboard blocking the only window. Jack himself is on a cot, on top of a bedsheet, on top of a layer of earth. My goodness! How civilized! (How romantic!) Jack thinks so too. Well, the civilized part. His gross clothes have been stripped away, and the blood mostly cleaned off. Modesty is preserved by a blanket.
Oh my. If I weren't so worried for Bobbi, I'd enjoy this even more. That said, I still enjoy this a lot. Escott himself still looks a bit rough: bandaged wrist, tight skin, and dark smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep. No one's been having a good time.
Jack notices something else, and this sounds pretty horrific: there's a rubber tube taped to his face, leading into his nose, with the other end connected to an upside-down glass bottle hanging from a metal stand. Escott's made a makeshift blood feeding tube.
My god, that is a man determined to win some kind of best boyfriend sweepstakes. I don't tend to read very many vampire romance novels, but I suspect I'd be hard pressed to match this gesture. And indeed, Escott seems deservedly proud of himself. It was an experiment, using equipment borrowed from Dr. Clarson (that guy who stitched Escott up last book, if you recall) and six quarts of blood from the stockyards. Happily, it worked, even if Escott has no idea how.
Jack asks where Escott learned to do all this, and we're doled out a bit of Escott's mysterious backstory. Apparently, when very young, Escott had thought of being a doctor. His father's friend got him a job at a hospital, but it didn't work out.
“Why not?”
He rolled up the tubing and unhooked the bottle. “Too squeamish,” he said with a perfectly straight face, and carried the stuff off to the kitchen.
Tee-hee.
So Jack's on the mend. He asks after Escott, and is on the verge of an Emotional Moment:
“Charles… I…”
He could see it coming and grimaced. “Please don’t be an embarrassing ass about this. I only did what was necessary.”
I nearly said something anyway, but held it back. He acted as though he’d done nothing more than loan me a book, and wanted to keep it that way. All right, my very good friend, if you insist. But thank you for my life, all the same.
Aw. I love everything about this. Though I think maybe Escott's slipping a little from the boyfriend ideal here. I appreciate that he doesn't want an awkward conversation, but Jack HAS been through a shit ton recently and might benefit from getting to air out some of his conflicted feelings. Ah well, if relationships were perfect, stories would be much shorter. He's still definitely swinging it out of the ballpark in every other way.
Things get interesting when Escott gets a phone call from Gordy, of all people. Jack's surprised because last time they all met, Gordy had a gun on Escott. Escott's pretty blase about all this. Let's be fair, that kind of thing probably happens a lot. And well, it wasn't personal. Besides, Gordy has the connections that Escott and Jack don't have, and he likes Bobbi, so he's happy to help. Unfortunately, he doesn't have news either.
But Jack does, he realizes, as he looks over at his belongings, which had been helpfully placed on the table. His notebook is all but ruined, thanks to the blood. All but. The page where he'd written Malcolm's license number down is still readable. Woo.
Jack asks after Pruitt and Marza: they're okay. Marza's upset but in control, per Escott, which sounds like Marza. Escott wants to know Jack's side of things now. Jack gets dressed first, a touch that the narrative doesn't comment on, but makes sense. He tells Escott, just bare facts without emotion, and his hands are trembling at the end.
Escott listens, without speaking or moving, which is probably the best way really. And when he finishes, Jack asks Escott about New York:
Basically, Escott had been at the house, thinking about the interview with Gaylen. He'd already been packed, and he decided there really wasn't any need to delay, and hopped a late train. He realized pretty quickly that the info Gaylen had given was useless: made up addresses and numbers. But Gaylen herself wasn't nearly as much of a dead end. The big thing he learned was that ten years before, Maureen had confined Gaylen to a private asylum.
“What? She put her own sister in a nuthouse?”
He opened one eye in my direction. “You know you have a bent toward colorful language that I find most entertaining.”
“And you’re funny, too. Go on.”
Stop flirting, boys.
Anyway, it was a very expensive place. The kind that rich people use to hide away inconvenient relatives. Usually drug addicts and alcoholics. Maureen had pretended to be Gaylen's daughter and had her declared mentally incompetent. I feel like this might not have been the best way to go about this, Maureen.
Anyway, at the asylum, Gaylen made friends with a morphine addict named Norma. That's the woman who'd been helping her. They escaped in 1931, which is when Maureen vanished. Eventually, they hooked up with Malcolm. Escott theorizes that Gaylen was keeping an eye on Jack through his ad, and when the ad was cancelled, they decided to find out why. Escott feels guilty for bringing their ad to Jack's attention.
Poor Jack. This entire book's plot only happened because he decided to do the healthy thing and move on.
So Gaylen was already tense, and between Braxton and Escott's impending trip to New York, combined with Jack's initial refusal to turn her, she decided to go hardcore. Escott did try to send a telegram to both the house and Bobbi's hotel, but thinks Malcolm or Norma must have intercepted it.
Anyway, Escott investigated Gaylen's hotel, but while there are still clothes there, toiletries and personal items are gone. She's probably not going to be back
We learn that Matheus Webber, Braxton's sidekick is still alive, in the hospital and has fingered Malcolm as his attacker. The police are looking for Jack though, since folks remember him being disheveled and tearing through the building looking for Bobbi. Marza's covered for Bobbi's disappearance, saying she's left town to be with a sick relative.
(Crap excuse, but Pruitt came up with it.)
They do get to the most worrisome point: Gaylen's probably died by now. She had no reason to wait. Which means, she'll be like Jack if it works.
("Not like you." Escott says. Aww.)
And she might have turned Malcolm as well. Maybe. Jack's not sure about that. Like Gaylen, he thinks it'll work for her since it worked for Maureen. They'd better anticipate the worst though. Jack has another awful thought: if Bobbi IS alive, they may be keeping her as a food source.
Gordy is on the phone again, he's got a possible address. Jack gets on the phone and they discuss munitions. Thankfully, Gordy doesn't need a lot of explanation. Jack asks him to get shotguns, extra shells, and "one more thing". We don't hear what it is, but Escott is surprised and interested.
There's one more call: Jack's dad. Uh. Oh.
Basically the cops came by looking for Jack. His dad is understandably quite worried. And it's really adorable. I really wish the series did more with Jack's family. Jack feels like he's six years old again, with his Dad towering over him, "ready to get the razor strop". He explains quickly that this is about the "two con-men." He explains Braxton was killed and the kid thinks he's involved. Jack urges his dad to pick up the newspaper as the story is in there.
I'm not sure how Jack knows this, but he is a journalist. And indeed, it's called the "Studio Slaying".
"What were you doing there, anyway?”
“I went to see the show.”
“Why couldn’t you have seen the show on the radio?” he said illogically.
Hee, parents.
Anyway, Jack says he needs time to straighten this out. He asks his dad to hold off giving the cops this number. His dad bristles and hems and haws, but does agree. When he hangs up, Escott commiserates, noting that at least Jack has a dad willing to help. Is that another hint as to Escott's own past?
Escott also admires how Jack managed to avoid telling the truth while not exactly lying. Except for the bit where Jack claimed that he might lose his job if his boss thought he was involved. But then, Escott points out, he could be considered Jack's boss. On certain occasions.
Oh, yes. Tell me more about these certain occasions, Charles. Is this why you carry handcuffs?
Anyway, Escott says that Jack's right: if an employee of his turned up in this kind of mess, he would not understand. On that break of tension, the chapter ends.
Now go save Bobbi!!!
We start the chapter with Jack in pretty bad shape. He's been staked, if you recall, and while happily it's not the insta-kill that we see on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it's not particularly fun either. As Jack tells us in appropriately descriptive prose:
FIRE.
BLACK FIRE.
Black fire you can’t see or hear or smell, only feel, and by then it’s too late. It’s caught hold and is consuming everything.
Searing black fire that fills the chest from the inside out, until it should explode from the heat and end things forever, but doesn’t. The silent body lies inert, enduring and somehow still conscious. Death is too far away for sanity to remain.
He's immobilized, but still aware. He can hear Gaylen and Malcolm in the distance and catches something about Bobbi. He knows that Bobbi, having seen their faces, won't be set free despite Gaylen's promise. He keeps trying to move, but he is very dead. Moreso than usual.
It's not a benign paralysis. If anything, it's like freezing to death, with a cold numbness rising. Jack is sure that if he falls asleep (the feeling is similar to trying to stay awake after sunrise), he'll never wake up again.
He hears someone coming and thinks it's Malcolm to finish the job. But the person is more cautious:
Heart thundering now, lungs taking short drafts of air, and then a long one as he came up the last flight and stopped because now he could see me. I heard in his voice some fraction of the agony that was holding me so helpless. “Jack… Oh, my God… Oh, my dear God…” tried to speak, tried to move, but the slightest flicker of an eyelid was too much. The thing piercing my chest held me frozen. I could not tell him that some part of me was still alive.
Then Escott’s hand closed around the stake.
God, yes, pull it out.
He pulled once, twice, then stopped because the gurgling sob that came out of me startled him. Coming back to life was almost as bad as dying. The third tug did the job, and it scraped between the ribs, shook the breastbone, and finally came free. Blood welled up coldly in the wound, quenching the fire there, and the body shuddered as the numbness retreated a little.
Well, that's pretty evocative.
And Best. Boyfriend. Ever.
From Escott's face, we can assume that Jack looks really really bad. Jack tells us that for all the nonsense that he's read about vampires, there's one true bit: when vampires die, it's explosive. Apparently the walls of the stairwell are "splashed with gore" and he's lying in a substantial pool of blood.
Jack's passing out and to my hurt-comfort fan joy, we get a full on dramatic "Stay with me!" declaration. Complete with "Damn your eyes" even. Escott manages to force Jack's mouth open and starts dripping blood in.
It was hardly more than a taste, enough to seize my attention, but not nearly enough to do me any real good. I couldn’t let him risk himself.
“Stay…”
I turned my head away or tried to, but his other hand grabbed my hair and held me in place.
“Stay…”
Then I accepted it. Fully.
My teeth abruptly pierced his skin, and the red warmth flowed more freely. He recoiled—perhaps from pain, perhaps from revulsion at what I was doing—then recovered, knowing that I couldn’t help myself. I still desperately wanted to live. The instincts born from my changed nature had taken over and ignored the faint, dissonant warning that I could kill him if I went too far.
I ignored it—and I drank.
I've toyed with putting a warning tag on this one too, but I decided it probably isn't necessary. In one sense, Escott's actions are similar to Gaylen's last chapter. But the motivation and tone is different. Escott is trying to save Jack's life. Jack's aversion is more instinctive than purposeful. He can't consent, but it's not a violation in the same way as Gaylen's actions were. And of course the language isn't nearly as loaded. However, I'm open to input on this. If you think a warning tag is warranted here, I'll go back and add it.
Anyway, this isn't the tragic kind of vampire story. Jack drinks enough to keep going but has the strength to push Escott away before it gets too far. Escott is still talking, though his voice is described as a little thin, he doesn't seem too worse for wear. He tries to encourage Jack, noting that his chest wound had closed up as soon as he took "that bloody great stick out". (Jack thinks that Escott couldn't have meant that as a joke. Heh.)
Jack's coherent enough to talk now, albeit with some nasty sounding coughing and breathing issues. Escott explains that he got the location from Jack's friends (hee. Marza and Pruitt are friends! Sort of!) and he knows about Gaylen. That's why he's here. He found out a lot and was worried enough to fly back. It only took five hours and he wishes it could have been faster.
Wow. I don't know how much a plane ride would have cost in the 1930s, but I imagine that it must have been pretty fucking expensive. Hell, it'd be expensive now. Escott also picks up the folding knife he'd used to cut his arm and jokes that if he gets lockjaw, it's Jack's fault. He doesn't say anything else about what just happened, which is probably for the best.
Anyway, Escott promises to do his best to help find where Gaylen and Malcolm took Bobbi. (Poor Bobbi must be terrified! How much would she have seen?)
Eventually, Escott manages to coax Jack into moving. But it's thirty minutes to sunrise, and Jack isn't up for a lot of travel. Escott manages to get the trunk (it takes a little longer then that, which means the poor guy ends up having to shove a half-aware corpse into a box by himself, but he manages.)
Then Jack wakes up: it's the next night. He's still alive. Still feeling miserable though. ("I didn’t mention the ton of iron wrapped tightly around my chest or that my head felt like a balloon ready to pop. My nose and throat hurt as well, but they were much less noticeable.")
He immediately asks after Bobbi, and Escott shakes his head. He's been trying to find her but no luck. Both of them realize that if she's not free at this point, there's very little chance she's still alive (Noooooo). Jack is skirting on the edge of despair, but Escott keeps him focused. Pragmatism again: think, not feel. He thinks there's still a chance.
Escott's been busy during the day, actually. Jack realizes they're in Escott's dining room, with sheets of cardboard blocking the only window. Jack himself is on a cot, on top of a bedsheet, on top of a layer of earth. My goodness! How civilized! (How romantic!) Jack thinks so too. Well, the civilized part. His gross clothes have been stripped away, and the blood mostly cleaned off. Modesty is preserved by a blanket.
Oh my. If I weren't so worried for Bobbi, I'd enjoy this even more. That said, I still enjoy this a lot. Escott himself still looks a bit rough: bandaged wrist, tight skin, and dark smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep. No one's been having a good time.
Jack notices something else, and this sounds pretty horrific: there's a rubber tube taped to his face, leading into his nose, with the other end connected to an upside-down glass bottle hanging from a metal stand. Escott's made a makeshift blood feeding tube.
My god, that is a man determined to win some kind of best boyfriend sweepstakes. I don't tend to read very many vampire romance novels, but I suspect I'd be hard pressed to match this gesture. And indeed, Escott seems deservedly proud of himself. It was an experiment, using equipment borrowed from Dr. Clarson (that guy who stitched Escott up last book, if you recall) and six quarts of blood from the stockyards. Happily, it worked, even if Escott has no idea how.
Jack asks where Escott learned to do all this, and we're doled out a bit of Escott's mysterious backstory. Apparently, when very young, Escott had thought of being a doctor. His father's friend got him a job at a hospital, but it didn't work out.
“Why not?”
He rolled up the tubing and unhooked the bottle. “Too squeamish,” he said with a perfectly straight face, and carried the stuff off to the kitchen.
Tee-hee.
So Jack's on the mend. He asks after Escott, and is on the verge of an Emotional Moment:
“Charles… I…”
He could see it coming and grimaced. “Please don’t be an embarrassing ass about this. I only did what was necessary.”
I nearly said something anyway, but held it back. He acted as though he’d done nothing more than loan me a book, and wanted to keep it that way. All right, my very good friend, if you insist. But thank you for my life, all the same.
Aw. I love everything about this. Though I think maybe Escott's slipping a little from the boyfriend ideal here. I appreciate that he doesn't want an awkward conversation, but Jack HAS been through a shit ton recently and might benefit from getting to air out some of his conflicted feelings. Ah well, if relationships were perfect, stories would be much shorter. He's still definitely swinging it out of the ballpark in every other way.
Things get interesting when Escott gets a phone call from Gordy, of all people. Jack's surprised because last time they all met, Gordy had a gun on Escott. Escott's pretty blase about all this. Let's be fair, that kind of thing probably happens a lot. And well, it wasn't personal. Besides, Gordy has the connections that Escott and Jack don't have, and he likes Bobbi, so he's happy to help. Unfortunately, he doesn't have news either.
But Jack does, he realizes, as he looks over at his belongings, which had been helpfully placed on the table. His notebook is all but ruined, thanks to the blood. All but. The page where he'd written Malcolm's license number down is still readable. Woo.
Jack asks after Pruitt and Marza: they're okay. Marza's upset but in control, per Escott, which sounds like Marza. Escott wants to know Jack's side of things now. Jack gets dressed first, a touch that the narrative doesn't comment on, but makes sense. He tells Escott, just bare facts without emotion, and his hands are trembling at the end.
Escott listens, without speaking or moving, which is probably the best way really. And when he finishes, Jack asks Escott about New York:
Basically, Escott had been at the house, thinking about the interview with Gaylen. He'd already been packed, and he decided there really wasn't any need to delay, and hopped a late train. He realized pretty quickly that the info Gaylen had given was useless: made up addresses and numbers. But Gaylen herself wasn't nearly as much of a dead end. The big thing he learned was that ten years before, Maureen had confined Gaylen to a private asylum.
“What? She put her own sister in a nuthouse?”
He opened one eye in my direction. “You know you have a bent toward colorful language that I find most entertaining.”
“And you’re funny, too. Go on.”
Stop flirting, boys.
Anyway, it was a very expensive place. The kind that rich people use to hide away inconvenient relatives. Usually drug addicts and alcoholics. Maureen had pretended to be Gaylen's daughter and had her declared mentally incompetent. I feel like this might not have been the best way to go about this, Maureen.
Anyway, at the asylum, Gaylen made friends with a morphine addict named Norma. That's the woman who'd been helping her. They escaped in 1931, which is when Maureen vanished. Eventually, they hooked up with Malcolm. Escott theorizes that Gaylen was keeping an eye on Jack through his ad, and when the ad was cancelled, they decided to find out why. Escott feels guilty for bringing their ad to Jack's attention.
Poor Jack. This entire book's plot only happened because he decided to do the healthy thing and move on.
So Gaylen was already tense, and between Braxton and Escott's impending trip to New York, combined with Jack's initial refusal to turn her, she decided to go hardcore. Escott did try to send a telegram to both the house and Bobbi's hotel, but thinks Malcolm or Norma must have intercepted it.
Anyway, Escott investigated Gaylen's hotel, but while there are still clothes there, toiletries and personal items are gone. She's probably not going to be back
We learn that Matheus Webber, Braxton's sidekick is still alive, in the hospital and has fingered Malcolm as his attacker. The police are looking for Jack though, since folks remember him being disheveled and tearing through the building looking for Bobbi. Marza's covered for Bobbi's disappearance, saying she's left town to be with a sick relative.
(Crap excuse, but Pruitt came up with it.)
They do get to the most worrisome point: Gaylen's probably died by now. She had no reason to wait. Which means, she'll be like Jack if it works.
("Not like you." Escott says. Aww.)
And she might have turned Malcolm as well. Maybe. Jack's not sure about that. Like Gaylen, he thinks it'll work for her since it worked for Maureen. They'd better anticipate the worst though. Jack has another awful thought: if Bobbi IS alive, they may be keeping her as a food source.
Gordy is on the phone again, he's got a possible address. Jack gets on the phone and they discuss munitions. Thankfully, Gordy doesn't need a lot of explanation. Jack asks him to get shotguns, extra shells, and "one more thing". We don't hear what it is, but Escott is surprised and interested.
There's one more call: Jack's dad. Uh. Oh.
Basically the cops came by looking for Jack. His dad is understandably quite worried. And it's really adorable. I really wish the series did more with Jack's family. Jack feels like he's six years old again, with his Dad towering over him, "ready to get the razor strop". He explains quickly that this is about the "two con-men." He explains Braxton was killed and the kid thinks he's involved. Jack urges his dad to pick up the newspaper as the story is in there.
I'm not sure how Jack knows this, but he is a journalist. And indeed, it's called the "Studio Slaying".
"What were you doing there, anyway?”
“I went to see the show.”
“Why couldn’t you have seen the show on the radio?” he said illogically.
Hee, parents.
Anyway, Jack says he needs time to straighten this out. He asks his dad to hold off giving the cops this number. His dad bristles and hems and haws, but does agree. When he hangs up, Escott commiserates, noting that at least Jack has a dad willing to help. Is that another hint as to Escott's own past?
Escott also admires how Jack managed to avoid telling the truth while not exactly lying. Except for the bit where Jack claimed that he might lose his job if his boss thought he was involved. But then, Escott points out, he could be considered Jack's boss. On certain occasions.
Oh, yes. Tell me more about these certain occasions, Charles. Is this why you carry handcuffs?
Anyway, Escott says that Jack's right: if an employee of his turned up in this kind of mess, he would not understand. On that break of tension, the chapter ends.
Now go save Bobbi!!!