The list was too much to take. Silver shoved away from the wall, banged into the stall, and heaved up the inside of his stomach. Not that there was anything in it besides the pill and the water. And the bile making his guts spasm over and over again. It made his eyes water, and that pissed him off more.
“Silver? Do you need something? Should I—”
Silver wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I’m fucking fine. I’m HIV positive. I’m not going to drop dead in the bathroom from puking.” That redheaded cop was a total fucking gossip queen. Silver might as well have put the info on Grindr. It was a good thing he’d already decided to go to LA. When he’d gotten a grip on his insides again, he made it out to the sink and rinsed his mouth. “Does he know?” He’d rather every queer in the city know than one in particular.
Fingers gripping the sides of the sink for support, he watched Eli in the mirror. Eli had easy-to-read tells when he was lying or exaggerating. Right now his face squinched in confusion—or constipation.
“That guy? Zebekiah or whatever? I don’t think anyone would have told him. Why would they? And why give a shit what he thinks, since he’s why you ended up getting arrested?” Eli’s eyes went wide. “He didn’t give it to you?”
“No.”
“Good. Then I don’t have to beat the shit out of him.” Eli wasn’t kidding, but that didn’t mean Silver was going to forgive him for spreading his business everywhere. “He’s gone anyway, so that’s good. How do you know him?”
“Just an ex. Bad breakup.” Silver splashed water on his face.
“Seriously small world. Oh my God. You should have seen it when we both got a phone call at 2:00 a.m. As soon as Quinn told me who was on the other end of his phone call , I knew that self-righteous prig was why you left the party….”
Eli’s ramble faded under the whine of the air dryer. Silver bent to try to get it to blow across his face. Stupid place was too cheap for a piece-of-shit paper towel.
When the air whimpered to a stop, Eli was still going strong. “…I mean, you and I go way back, so no question about it. And now that you….” Eli made some kind of gesture with his hand.
Silver thought about drowning Eli out with another blast of air, but it was already stifling in this tiny room. And Silver was pretty sure he knew the whole hand-waving stuff meant Silver was all delicate and in need of help now because he was positive, but he said anyway, “Now that I what?”
“That attitude is the thanks I get for getting your skinny ass out of jail?”
“Actually, I think it’s Gavin who gets the thanks. I’ll get right on that. Catch you later, Eli. Thanks for bringing me these.” Silver waved the bag with two pills still in it before stuffing it back into his pocket. He’d get one to stay down later. But before he could get through the door, he banged into Quinn coming in. “He’s all yours. I’m heading out.”
“I don’t think so.” Quinn didn’t move.
A quick glance at Eli showed he didn’t know what the bug up his Daddy’s ass was. Silver took a step back. “What the fuck?”
“I told the judge you were living with me.”
“Okay,” Silver agreed warily. “Thanks for that. Appreciate it.”
Jamie and Gavin crowded in behind Quinn. There was more wiggle room on a westbound Metro at 5:05.
Jamie leaned back against the door. “My boyfriend just put fifteen grand plus lawyer fees on you showing up for your court date.”
“Thank you.” Silver didn’t have to fake that gratitude. He gave Gavin his best choir-boy-who-could-be-tempted smile. “If there’s anything I can do for you, you know how to get in touch.”
Gavin’s lips quirked briefly.
“Therefore,” Quinn said, and how Eli put up with all that toppy-Daddy shit, Silver had no idea, “you will be staying with me until the court date.”
“The fuck I will.” Silver eyed the window, which of course had fucking bars on the outside. “If your boy toy isn’t doing it for you anymore, don’t look at me.”
“Maybe he could stay—” Gavin began.
“No, he couldn’t,” Jamie said quickly.
Someone pushed at the door from the other side, and Jamie slammed it back. “Cleaning. Go upstairs.”
Eli stepped toward Quinn. “Be serious. What are you going to do, lock him in?”
“This was your idea, Eli. I’m not going to lie to the court.”
“You can’t make me live with you, for fuck’s sake.” Silver’s muscles still burned with the need to run, hide anywhere, but short of squeezing down through one of the gigantic cracks in the uneven black-and-white floor tiles, he was trapped.
“No, but he can tell them you don’t have an established place of residence, and they can decide to revoke bail.” That was Jamie, and Silver didn’t doubt this shit was all his idea so his boyfriend didn’t lose his fucking money. Like he couldn’t afford it.
“Good food. Nice bed. It’s a haul down to the restaurant and bars, but it’s not all bad.” Eli’s awkward shrug told Silver he was on his own. Again.
“No bars. He’s twenty.” Jamie didn’t have to sound so fucking gleeful about it.
They couldn’t watch him all the time. Silver would get his emergency bag after work one night and not go back. As for now, “Fuck all of you very much. Assholes.”
Chapter Four
ON MONDAY afternoon, Silver slipped through the kitchen. Eli stood at the stove, stirring something. All he needed was a fucking apron. Domesticated in the extreme.
Silver swatted him on the ass. “See ya, Mom. I’m going to work.”
Lightning fast, Eli grabbed Silver’s hand. “That just gets funnier every time you say it. What are you in such a hurry for?”
“Gotta take the bus to work.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Okay, I put up with the rest of your Daddy’s control freak-out, but I’m not going to skip work or lose this job.” He had to hang on to every penny if he was going to get out to LA and not have to turn tricks in an alley to get a place to sleep.
Eli dragged him toward the front door. “No, I mean you don’t have to take the bus.” A horn beeped as Eli flung open the door.
Silver stared at the car with that fucking red-haired cop driving, arm impatiently waving. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“C’mon, kid. I start wanting a cigarette when I’ve gotta wait like this,” Jamie yelled.
“Quinn and I will pick you up at eleven, after your shift.” Eli gave him a little shove.
Not that Silver wanted to ride the goddamned bus everywhere, but this was fucking humiliating. “It’s an undercover-cop car.”
“I guess,” Eli said without any sympathy. “Jamie’s truck is getting restored someplace. He and Gavin had an accident.”
“Why couldn’t Gavin drive me?” Silver heard the whine in his voice and snapped his jaw shut. Though that car of Gavin’s was sweet. He’d do more than whine for a ride in it.
“I don’t know. Jamie offered. Maybe you should ask him.” Eli gave Silver a more forceful shove toward the door.
“You drag me up here and now you’re pushing me out? Make up your mind.”
For once Eli didn’t have anything else to say, only nudged him forward and out the door. Silver thought about running in the opposite direction of the way the car was aimed, but the bastard would probably radio for another cop to pick him up.
He leaned in the open window. “Do I have to ride in the back?”
“Nope.” Jamie pointed, and Silver went around to the passenger door and dropped himself inside.
“So what’s this now, house arrest?” Eli had said to ask, so Silver was asking.
Jamie ignored that for a minute, cruising down the block before swinging a right to head back around to the main road. Silver hated the way he drove, with an arrogant attitude that he owned the goddamned road and everyone could get the fuck out of his way.
“I’m going to lay some shit out for you. You don’t
have to like it. I don’t care one way or another, but this is just facts. I don’t know what happened in your life, but I get that you were fucked over. Welcome to the planet, kid. Some people get more than their share of shit, and they deal and try not to fuck things up for anyone else.”
Silver tried to squeeze in a word when Jamie took a breath. “I didn’t ask—”
“I’m still talking.”
Silver glared out at the strip malls and gas stations rolling past his window. Jamie could talk. Apparently without breathing much. Didn’t mean Silver had to listen.
“So you didn’t ask,” Jamie went on. “But now other people are involved. People give a fuck about your future, even if you don’t. And one of those people is someone I don’t want to see hurt.”
“And the fifteen thou means nothing, right?” Silver sneered.
“Does to me.” Jamie coughed a dry laugh. “But for God knows what reason, Gavin actually cares what happens to you. And that means so do I now. Here’s what you need to know. You will not be running off anywhere. You will be there on your court date. If I get a call saying you’re unaccounted for, I will come find you. Trust me on that.”
The way Jamie’s voice held no temper, no inflection at all, let Silver know exactly how fucked he was if he tried to head to LA.
“So, what, I get to rot in jail for a year for a fake ID?”
“If you didn’t commit any credit card fraud, Gavin’s lawyer says you should be off with a fine and community service, assuming he can’t get the whole thing dropped. Did you use the ID to steal stuff?”
For the first time since he’d gotten into the car, Silver felt Jamie’s stare digging at the back of his head. Silver snapped around. “No. I didn’t steal anything. Only sold what was mine. And trust me, I paid plenty for the ID.”
Jamie grunted. “Okay, then. We’re clear on you sticking close. Because you will not be happy if I have to come after you.”
“Christ, you’re an arrogant asshole. You have serious control issues.”
“Didn’t seem to bother you when you chased my ass around the club last December.”
Silver shook his head. “Smug too. I had my reasons, dickhead.”
Jamie’s gaze fixed on him for only an instant before he looked back at the street, but Silver felt like it was the first time Jamie actually saw a person there instead of a problem he needed to solve.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“In addition to you being a giant tool—notice I didn’t say having one”—the guy had enough attitude already—“you talk a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“You run your mouth.” Silver watched Jamie’s jaw drop open with some satisfaction. “You gossip like some high school chick about who you’ve done.”
“Hope you weren’t looking for any kind of recommendation, kid, because you sucked. And not in the good way.”
Silver folded his arms over his chest and leaned into the corner. “I can wait while your stupid cop brain catches up.”
Jamie swerved the car off into a spot in front of a hydrant. “Why would you want me to—? Why the fuck—?”
As funny as the cop’s little freak-out was, Silver wanted the conversation over. “Guess you don’t watch much porn.”
“Prefer living it, thanks.” His smug arrogance settled back around him like armor.
“Right. So you didn’t know who I was. Swear you were about the only guy in Baltimore who didn’t. And who didn’t think because I’d done it on camera I’d do it for them.”
Again Silver was on the other end of that look, the one that said Jamie was suddenly taking this seriously. This time it didn’t shift away, since they were idling at the curb.
“I was fucking sick of it. I’d rather someone spread the word that I couldn’t suck water through a straw in real life.” Silver wouldn’t go as far as saying it was worth it, but when Jamie’s surprised confusion became a nod of grudging respect, Silver felt a little pride.
And then it was gone. Jamie swung the car away from the curb, and after another dry cough that might have been a laugh, he said, “Glad I could help. Slobberjaws.” There was a long pause as he barreled down the street before slowing a bit. “Did you know you were positive then?”
“No. I got the news right before Christmas.”
Jamie nodded. “Do you know who—?”
“Does it fucking matter now? If I didn’t get it shooting bareback videos, I got it from a boyfriend. And I don’t need to know if you think I was stupid to risk it.”
“The one from yesterday? And the party you ran out on two weeks ago—in case you think I was too stupid to notice that too?”
“No. Zeb—” How could it be weird to say that name when he’d doodled it in his notebook all the time? “He was a long time ago.” A really long time ago, Silver said in his head. And though he knew they’d both been virgins, they’d been careful.
Jamie didn’t say anything else until he was blocking traffic in front of With Relish. “One last thing you need to know. Eli went all kinds of cut-a-bitch crazy on your long-time-ago ex in the lobby for landing you in jail. Quinn couldn’t hold him. I had to step in before the kid ended up in jail too.”
“So?”
“So, like I said. You got people who care. So don’t go throwing yourself some epic pity party.”
Silver shrugged and pushed open the door.
Jamie grabbed his arm. “And remember, Blondie, you’re not going anywhere but back to Mount Washington.”
“Fine.” Silver shook free, climbed out, and slammed the door shut. “Go tell your boyfriend his money is safe.”
Silver slipped through the alley to the back of the restaurant. The fuck if he needed advice from some overbearing asshole who’d fucked his way into the sweetest setup ever. Stupid dick didn’t even have to work for money anymore. Like Eli. Though Eli’s setup in the suburbs wasn’t quite the kind of thing Gavin Montgomery could bankroll. It was easy to go around handing out advice when everything was going your way.
WORK SUCKED.
It was one of those half-dead nights that made everyone pissy, including the cook. There wasn’t enough traffic to make time go by fast, and tips were pathetic. Even though there were only two servers on, Silver got shafted the most because he was the newest. Definitely the kind of scene that needed to be montaged, with something like a Goo Goo Dolls song for background. As he pushed the specifics out of his head, he realized there wasn’t anything different about work today. It was him.
When he’d started working as a waiter, he’d felt as if he’d actually achieved something. A real job. One even people like Thomas and Cheryl Barnett could have been told about—assuming he ever spoke to them again. The job hadn’t changed. But seeing Zeb had dragged up the memory of what a stupid, naïve kid named Jordan had wanted. The idea that if he tried and worked hard, he could have his dreams. Now what had seemed like a decent job was only a reminder of how dead everything to do with Jordan was.
Around eight, Eli’s old boss Nate came in with his boyfriend. Eli’d been so hung up on Nate, Silver had sworn the three of them were going to do some kind of poly thing before Eli moved in with Quinn. Silver rolled his eyes and went to get their usual order of KZ sodas. Plunking the bottles and glasses down at their table, he asked, “So what are you supposed to be, spies? Did Eli send you?”
Nate peered through his Harry Potter glasses at Silver like he was some kind of bug, but the boyfriend, Kellan, said, “Huh? Eli? Is he okay?”
“Eli’s fine.” And I’m good too, thanks for asking, Silver added to himself. Pasting on a smile, he channeled the preppy queen group leader at Path to Glory. “Eli’s swell. What can I get you?”
Kellan looked up intently—probably still worried about Eli—but Nate bitched, “A menu would be nice for a start.”
“What do you need one for? You always get the same thing,” Kellan said, earning his boyfriend’s bitchy attention.
“True.” Nate’s eyes narrowed.
“Make it two veggie burgers, Philly toppings, no cheese.”
Kellan flicked some of the sweat from his bottle at Nate. “If I gotta have veggie, I’m getting cheese on mine. And fries.”
Nate nodded, like Kellan needed his permission or something to order his own food. As Silver went back to put the order in, he wondered if they did that same stuff Eli and Quinn did. Christ, it had been loud last night. Even with earplugs.
Silver’s only other table at the moment was a guy writing something on his computer while drinking coffee. He’d inherited him when his shift started, but as Lisa had informed him, the guy had already paid and given her a shitty tip for taking up the booth for an hour. Then she’d been ranting about how she’d told Ben this would happen when they gave free Wi-Fi access, and Silver had tuned her out. He stepped out of the beverage station with the coffee carafe and ran into Kellan.
“Don’t mind Nate. Bad day at work.”
Since Silver had spent Saturday night in jail and had been driven to work in a police car, he thought he won the whole “bad day” contest. But he was curious. “So he gets to order your food?”
Kellan shrugged. “I like veggie burgers, but don’t tell Nate.” He winked. “Of course, I like ’em better with bacon.”
After flashing a grin and then tapping Silver on the shoulder with a fist, Kellan strode back to his table. Silver refilled Wi-Fi-mooching-computer-guy’s coffee and went into the kitchen to ask if they’d slide a piece of bacon onto Kellan’s burger. He did not get the whole having-to-sacrifice-something-you-liked-to-please-someone-you-liked-fucking. What the hell difference did it make to Nate what Kellan ate?
The one time Silver had bothered to try to please someone with food….
A ripple dissolve threatened a candlelit flashback. No matter how Silver tried to push it away, he couldn’t completely block out what had happened after Zeb mentioned that he missed his mom’s beef stroganoff. Nothing stopped his brain from replaying the laughter and love on Zeb’s face when presented with the resulting gluey paste studded with blackened strips of meat.
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