by Andrew Grey
“What about you?” Tristan asked.
“I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve gone with just a few hours of sleep. But please stay in here. I want you to be safe.”
Tristan smiled and sat down on the sofa. “This is all my fault. I keep thinking that I should have known better than to get involved with a guy like Eddie in the first place.” He held his head in his hands. “I should have known better than to think a guy like him would really be interested in me.” Tristan looked up and saw the surprise on Harry’s face, and he groaned. That so didn’t come out the way he meant it to. “Most of the time I can’t believe you’re interested in me.”
“Why? Eddie ripped your confidence from under you and made you second-guess yourself. But that’s what he did. You can decide if you’re going to let the way he treated you color the rest of your life.” Harry sat next to him and took his hand. “If you want my suggestion, close your eyes and listen to your heart. It won’t lead you wrong.” Harry paused, and Tristan turned toward him. “Let me ask you this: Did Eddie treat you right?”
Tristan thought and nodded. “At first.”
“Okay. But did he treat you right to get what he wanted or because he wanted to give you what you wanted? That’s what a person who really cares about you does. They want to give you what you want, rather than take what they want.” Harry squeezed Tristan’s hand. “You aren’t the only one who has been through this. We all make mistakes. I certainly did with Rodney, and I probably hurt him because I took what I wanted and took for granted that it was the same thing he wanted. I was wrong, and I need to find a way to make it right with him. I don’t know how yet, because he doesn’t seem to want to understand, but that’s my fault. I’m the owner of the club, and I shouldn’t shit where I eat, to quote an old saying.” Harry touched Tristan’s chin.
“I want to believe you.”
Harry chuckled softly. “Think of it this way—I’m just as awed that you like me.”
That stopped him cold. Harry had told him that he’d watched him and had liked him for a long time, but he’d never thought about Harry being insecure… about him. “No way,” he whispered.
“Yeah, and sometimes it’s possible to overthink things.” Harry leaned closer, kissed him gently, and then pulled him into his strong arms. “Trust me when I tell you that I want you in my life and that I’ll do my best to make you happy. And as for all the crap that’s going on, we’ll figure it out together with the help of our friends.” Harry didn’t let him go. “Why don’t you lie down for a few hours and get some rest? Things will seem clearer when you aren’t as tired.” Harry released him and stood up. Tristan lay down, and Harry pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa over him. “Everything is going to be all right,” Harry added and smiled at him. “We’ll figure it out, because I care too much about you to let anything happen to you.” Harry kissed him on the forehead and then turned off the light and left the office.
Tristan sighed and wondered if he could actually sleep. He was exhausted and had only had a few hours of sleep, but it was hard for him not to wonder what was going on outside the office. However, there wasn’t much he could do to help, and he knew the best thing would be to get some rest so he’d be able to help with anything Harry needed later. He tried to push aside the swirl of worry that related to Harry as well as his concern about who had broken into the club. He wasn’t successful until he pulled the blanket closer, and Harry’s scent filled his nose. He closed his eyes and let the deep, manly scent wrap around him. He relaxed almost immediately and closed his eyes. It was like Harry was there. His exhaustion overtook him, and he let go of his anxiety and dozed off.
THE OFFICE door opened, and Tristan gasped and sat right up. “What happened?” Tristan blinked and glanced at his watch. His mouth fell open when he realized he’d been asleep for three hours.
“The police have left, and I’ve called an electrician so he can check everything out,” Harry said.
Tristan yawned and pushed back the blanket, then stood up. Harry looked about ready to collapse. “You need to lie down.”
“I can’t. The police said they didn’t find much, as Officer Douglas suspected. He did say that the people who broke in knew what they were doing.” Harry half collapsed onto the sofa. “He didn’t name names, but I know as sure as there is booze and glass all over my fucking club that fuckhead Eddie is behind this. I just don’t know how to prove it.”
Tristan decided he was not going to feel guilty about that. Harry wasn’t blaming him; he knew that, especially when he tugged Tristan down onto the sofa and into his arms. “Get some rest, please.”
Harry yawned in his ear. “I’ll lie down for a few minutes, but then I need to make some phone calls.”
Tristan helped Harry settle on the sofa and covered him with the blanket, just like Harry had done for him. Then he kissed him lightly and left the office.
As soon as he stepped out of the office area, the chemical scent of alcohol assaulted his nostrils, almost burning. Tristan’s eyes watered, and he sloshed through the wet to the back door, propping it open for fresh air. Then he returned to the office area, got a mop, dustpan, and broom, along with as many cleaning supplies as he could, and began the process of soaking up the gallons of liquid off the floor.
He got nowhere fast, and even with the door open, the smell was oppressive. Tristan looked at the mess and sighed in frustration before pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling Kevin’s cell phone. “Kevin,” he said when his still groggy friend answered. “We need your help, so get dressed and come down to the club. It was broken into last night and it’s a mess. Harry is asleep, and he sent Bull and Zach home a few hours ago, but they need your help.”
“That’s really shitty. Did you call the police? Do they know who it is?”
“We did and they don’t, but everyone thinks it was Eddie.” Guilt threatened to rear its ugly head.
“I’ll take a shower and get right over.”
“Don’t bother with a shower. It’s a real mess. Just put on old shoes and clothes and come right over. See if Jeremy and Spook can come over too. We need all the help we can get.”
“Will do,” Kevin said with a yawn.
“Get as many people as you can.”
“Harry must be going out of his mind right now.”
“I have him lying down for a while because he didn’t get much sleep, and he’s been trying to get things together again.”
“We’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks,” Tristan said and hung up, then shoved his phone back in his pocket. He went back to work, mopping up as much of the liquid off the floor as he could while alternating with sweeping up the broken glass. It was slow going, but he finally began to make progress.
Tristan leaned on his mop, turning around to check on his progress. In his estimation he’d probably gotten a little more than half the alcohol off the floor. He’d started with the dance floor area, and that was now clean and dry. Hopefully he’d gotten the liquid off before it was ruined. The rest of the floor was concrete and was less easily damaged.
Someone pounded on the front door of the club. Tristan set his mop aside and walked to the door, peering out before unlocking it and letting the electrician inside. He closed the door, and the electrician sighed. “Maybe you should leave the front door open.”
Tristan agreed with him, but he didn’t want people gawking. “I’ll get Harry, and he can tell you what he needs.”
“He said he wanted to make sure it was safe to operate the lights and stuff. But we need to get this mess cleared away before I can check things in here. I don’t want anyone to get shocked.”
Tristan nodded and hurried toward the office. Harry roused as soon as he entered the office, and Tristan told him the electrician had just arrived. Harry stretched and followed him back out into the club. Tristan went back to cleaning up the floor and nearly had the last of the alcohol mess cleaned up by the time Jeremy, Kevin, and Spook came in the b
ack door.
“What the hell happened?” Spook asked, but Tristan figured he wasn’t expecting an answer, especially when he began prowling around.
“Harry is in back with the electrician. He’ll be back out soon.”
“I talked to Bull and Zach, and they’re on their way,” Spook said as he continued… whatever it was he was doing. It appeared to Tristan as though he were prowling the perimeter of the room, but who knew with him? “How much of the room has been disturbed?”
“I’ve been cleaning up the mess and sweeping up glass. I haven’t touched the chairs other than to get them out of the way.” Tristan turned and handed Kevin the mop and Jeremy the broom and dustpan. “Can you finish with the floors?”
“Don’t touch the rest yet,” Spook said from the far side of the room, near the bar. “I’ll let you know when it’s okay to move on.”
“Fine. The electrician said we needed to get the floors done before he can check things out in here,” Tristan told Spook before adding, “I need to clean up behind the bar, so let me know when you’re done.”
“It’s….” Spook stood behind the bar, motioning slowly. Tristan watched him, and Spook eventually stopped and called him over. “Whoever made the mess was back here. They stood about where I am and threw bottle after bottle. The worst of the glass should have been over there.” Spook pointed to the far wall, and Tristan nodded. That had been where he’d found the most glass. “They didn’t wreck the bar fridges—they’re still cold, and they didn’t mess up the other bar infrastructure. This seems like sending a message to me.”
“That’s what they thought,” Tristan said. “But why wouldn’t they mess things up back here? That would put the club out of commission for a while.”
“True, but if they had, there was a greater chance of leaving evidence. They simply grabbed bottles, chucked them, and the evidence broke and was covered in alcohol, which would remove most everything, then as soon as they heard the sirens, they got the hell out and disappeared into the night.” Spook knelt behind the bar and peered around before moving on. “I’m done back here. You can clean up whatever you need. I suggest wiping down everything and washing all the glasses. Assume that nothing is clean.”
“I won’t, and I’ll make sure to sanitize everything.”
“Perfect.” Spook moved away, and Tristan got to work. Harry and the electrician came back into the room. The electrician left, then returned with a ladder and started working on the electrical equipment while Harry walked over to Tristan.
“I called Rodney and Chuck, but only Chuck answered. He should be in soon. Do you need help?”
Tristan shook his head. “I’m well under way. Why don’t you start wiping down chairs and seats? You might want to get some fans to try to air things out. We’re going to need to get the smell out of here and everything dry.”
Harry’s lips parted slightly and he paused. “You did all this?”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Yeah. And since I put myself in charge of cleaning up, you need to get busy. The floors have dried and need to be cleaned. The guys are doing that, and I’m going to be back here for a while cleaning all the barware.” Tristan did his best not to break into a smile. “If we want to have any hope of getting this smell out of here, then everything has to be wiped down.” It was already better without pools of alcohol adding to the fumes, but the place still smelled like a distillery, and that wouldn’t leave a good impression on their customers.
“All right. What do you have Bull doing?” Harry asked as Bull approached the bar. Harry was teasing him.
“He’s on wall duty,” Tristan said without batting a lash.
“Excuse me?” Bull said with only a hint of his usual growl.
“Everything has to be washed down and cleaned to get rid of the smell. Also, we don’t know what else they might have done in here. What did the electrician say?” Tristan shifted his gaze to Harry and then back to Bull. The two of them exchanged glances and shook their heads. “What?”
“Nothing,” Harry commented. “We better get to work.” Tristan had expected a fight, or at least one of them asserting their authority, but they both turned and did what Tristan had told them. Zach snickered softly and shared one of those silent communicative looks with Bull that said volumes without saying a word. Ignoring him, Tristan went back to work.
After working a few hours, he had all the glassware washed, and the guys were working their way around the room, cleaning everything. Chuck arrived, and Tristan turned the bar-cleaning duty over to him.
The electrician had spent the same time trying lights and testing the sound system. When he pronounced it sound and in good working order, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and redoubled their efforts. A replacement supply of liquor showed up in the afternoon. It had apparently taken multiple phone calls from Harry, along with some begging, but the shipment arrived, and Chuck and Bull checked it in and began inventorying the loss and restocking the bar.
“It really looks like we may be able to open tonight,” Harry told him with a smile, wrapping his arms around Tristan’s shoulders. “I can’t believe how you organized everything and everyone. I think the club is cleaner than it’s been in years, and most of the smell is gone. We’ll keep the fans going until just before opening to be sure, but it’s looking really good.”
“I keep trying to think of things that could come and bite us in the rear.” Tristan gasped. “Does the health department need to do anything?”
“They shouldn’t, but I’ll call them tomorrow to make sure. The only thing I can think of is that I’ll contact the police to make sure it’s okay from a crime-scene perspective.”
Tristan swallowed really hard. “Oh God, what if I messed up a crime scene by doing all this?” He hurried to the back door, half expecting to see a line of yellow police tape that he hadn’t before. Of course there was nothing. “They didn’t say anything about not cleaning up or anything, did they?”
“No,” Harry told him. “Remember? Ken said he wasn’t hopeful they’d find anything, but that they’d try. They were here most of the time you were asleep this morning.”
“Don’t be gone long. I ordered food, and it should be here in a few minutes,” Bull called across the room.
Tristan followed Harry into the office and sat on the sofa while he pulled out a card and made a call. He put it on speaker.
“Douglas.”
“It’s Harry down at Bronco’s. We’re getting ready to open, and we were wondering if there was anything you needed.”
“Open? You can’t open—there might be additional work we need to do. The place was supposed to have been sealed off.” The shuffling of papers came through the line.
“No one said anything to us, and we’ve been here all day, cleaning. I’m afraid there isn’t much left of what was here.”
Tristan stood and walked behind the desk, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders.
“Wait a minute. No one told you to get out and lock up the club? Shit!” Ken’s frustration came through the phone loud and clear.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked. “This is sounding like another of those screwups we talked to you about. Who was supposed to have escorted us out and secured the building? We’ve cleaned the club and wiped down just about everything. An electrician has been here to make sure the wiring is okay. As far as we’re concerned, the club will be open tonight.” Harry muted the line. “No one said anything to you, did they?” he asked Tristan.
“I was asleep, remember?” Tristan said. “By the time I woke up they were gone, and I thought they had finished, so I started cleaning up.”
Harry unmuted the phone. “No one said anything to any of us. Wouldn’t you need to provide some paperwork or something?”
“I’m looking at a copy of it right now.”
“So what do we do? We weren’t aware, and the club has been cleaned. We’ve had people in and out for much of the day, and after a few more hours, we’ll be ready to open.” Harr
y was panicking. Tristan heard it in his voice.
“There isn’t anything we can do about it now. I’m going to come down and look things over, and I’ll have to update my report with what happened.”
“Who was supposed to follow this up?” Harry asked.
“I can’t talk about that right now,” Officer Douglas said, and Tristan exchanged a look with Harry. “I’ll be over as soon as I can get away.” His voice was now measured and filled with suspicion.
“Okay,” Harry said and disconnected the call.
“Do you think we’ll be able to open?” Tristan asked. Harry shrugged and leaned back in his chair with a sigh and a shake of his head.
“I don’t know if they’ll let us. Can you get Bull? I need to talk to him.” Harry fidgeted with his fingers, fumbling them together and then drumming them on the top of the desk. Tristan left the office and got Bull, gave him Harry’s message, and then returned to work. He really wanted to know what they were talking about, but he wasn’t sure if this was a private conversation or one that Harry wanted to share, so he’d stayed away. This was Harry’s club—his and Bull’s.
“How is it going?” Tristan approached the table where everyone was sitting, huddled around pizza boxes that were mostly empty. He snapped up a slice and munched on it, watching the office door with one eye.
“Good. The place doesn’t stink as much, and we’ve got almost all the furniture washed down,” Jeremy said. “We thought it might be a good idea to move everything we can and wash the floors again to make sure any hidden pockets are cleaned up. That way no one is going to find a puddle tonight or get cut on glass slivers.”
“I started working on the walls with Bull, and we’re getting there. It’s great that they’re pretty heavy duty, because there are nicks in the paint that will need to be fixed, but that can be done later,” Kevin observed.
“Cool. Thank you both for coming. I know Harry and Bull appreciate it.”
“They really do,” Zach echoed. “Hey, Spook, come and get something to eat.”