“He wasn’t home when I came by earlier, and I decided it would be a good idea to pick up some groceries. The door wasn’t locked when I got back, so I let myself in, put the bags in the kitchen, and went to find him.” He sighed. “He came out of the bathroom looking good enough to eat, and I was thinking maybe we’d have time for a quickie before dinner. I thought Tom was happy to see me, but then he…”
“I can guess, knowing Tom.” James leaned back in his chair. “He wasn’t expecting you to turn up tonight, was he?”
“I don’t know why not. I did tell him this morning I’d see him later.”
“The thing is, Tom isn’t a morning person. He probably had no memory of it.”
“I guess.” Jackson shrugged. “He told me to go home—he was going out to dinner, and then he was gonna find someone and…and bring him back to the…to the bedroom where we’d…where we’d…”
James looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen the brightness in Jackson’s eyes. “And that was when you hit him?”