Jayvaughn sat there, the weight of his earlier words pressing heavily on his chest. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed that he had even suspected Axel could be the person who had helped them tonight. That man's eyes had been so cold, so detached, shooting those men like their lives meant nothing. His Axel wasn't like that. Axel was fragile in a way that made Jayvaughn want to protect him. He cared about people, about life.
So how had it even crossed his mind that the man with the gun could be his boyfriend?
Yes, the stranger's build was similar to Axel's, but those eyes… no. Those eyes didn't belong to Axel. The only reason Jayvaughn had even connected the two was because, at one point, the man had looked at the gang leader with a certain disdain, and it reminded him of the way Axel sometimes looked at him when he did something annoying. That tiny similarity had been enough to plant doubt in his mind—and now it had made his most important person cry.
