Personal Demons

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Personal Demons Page 22

by Jay Lygon


  Too bad the restaurant menu wasn’t big enough to cover my face. Not because I was afraid of being recognized. I didn’t want them to see my revulsion

  She snatched the camera back. “Oh, he knows, all right. You should have seen the way he moved. Hell, just standing there, he oozed sex.”

  “Fag sex,” the guy reminded her.

  People at other tables cast glances at the foursome. Their voices had bullied all other talk from the seating area.

  The other woman leaned over the table. “I heard that he got caught fucking Harris Smith behind the screen at a premier, and Harris’ boyfriend caught them and beat the shit out of Sam.”

  Harris? Sam? What, were we on a first-name basis all of a sudden?

  The bitch shook her head. “No. That’s not what happened at all. Harris was fucking Sam in the pool at an orgy in Malibu. Everyone knows that.”

  “Mr. Dewey’s a movie critic, not a porn star, and both those stories are wrong,” I mumbled.

  “Excuse me? Are you listening to our conversation?” She turned to her friends. “Some people are just so fucking rude.”

  ***

  Fuming, I stalked down the sidewalk. “Porn star? Faggot?” I muttered. That guy at the table with the bitch was going to suffer a streak of impotence, I decided. Unfortunately, the bitch had never had good sex -- something I knew simply from probing her aura -- so it wasn’t as if I could send some wicked karma back to her. At least not sex-wise. Some other punishment was due, though. Relishing thoughts of horrific revenge -- her teeth falling out, her impotent boyfriend dumping her for her friend -- I got in line for the tram to my next screening.

  No, I couldn’t do that. All of those punishments infringed on another God’s territory. The only way I could harm her was by messing with her sex life, and she already didn’t have one worth speaking of. I scowled. Even if she did, I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to hurt a girl. Actually, I wasn’t raised to use violence against anyone, so I probably wouldn’t harm her male friend either, but I sure enjoyed thinking about it.

  Someone tsk-tsked behind me. Since I figured I was all but invisible, I didn’t pay too much attention until a body pressed close to my back and whispered in my ear, “Did you have to pick such an ugly disguise?”

  “They were all out of clown suits. I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you, Alberto, but it isn’t. Go away.”

  Alberto was in a tight pair of pants, boots, a thick sweater, and a cowboy hat that looked suspiciously familiar. Seeing the recognition in my eyes, he tipped the brim. “Want it back?”

  “No.”

  “You should have taken them up on their offer. Those girls were a lot of fun. I’ll bet they could have taught you a few tricks.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “I like both, you know. Men and women.”

  “I know.”

  “Of course you do.” Alberto’s smile was like the sun coming out, but over parched desert. Anything that valued its skin ran from its lethal rays. “Your friend Deal, now she’s a Goddess I could worship. I think she enjoys tormenting me. I show up on her doorstep; she slams the door in my face. I do yard work where she can see me. I know she watches, but she pretends she doesn’t. Every time I flirt with her, I get the feeling she’s this close to teaching me a lesson.” He held his thumb and forefinger close together. Then he sighed. “But she doesn’t.”

  If only she would, everything would be right in my world. “Maybe she will.”

  “I can only hope. But she seems to have a new lover.” Alberto put both hands to his heart as if grievously pained. “You know she’s having an affair with Hector, don’t you?”

  I was wrong. Alberto’s grin wasn’t the sun. It was a scorpion’s stinger.

  “Don’t believe me?” He grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t fucking touch me, Alberto.” But before I could jerk away, he phased us both to a place I knew all too well.

  ***

  I don’t know who was more surprised. Hector, me, or Deal, who stood against the wall where my altars used to hang in Hector’s living room, her back pink with flogger marks.

  “Who the hell are you?” Hector asked when he saw me. Then his anger turned to horror. “Sam? Oh Gods. Sam. What are you doing here?”

  Deal huddled with her arms to her sides to hide her bared breasts.

  The world was slowly tilting. I didn’t know where to look.

  Alberto’s grin was so smug that I wanted to punch him. “See, Sam? I was telling the truth.”

  “Don’t you dare move, Boy!” Hector dropped the flogger and strode over to me. “Don’t you dare phase away. This is one time you won’t run.”

  I was too stunned to think. Deal grabbed her white blouse and pulled it on. She seemed a little embarrassed, but hid it with annoyance. Hector seemed embarrassed, too. I’d never seen him flustered. Was he into women? That was news to me.

  Hector took a slow step around the couch. “Now, Sam, don’t jump to any conclusions. Don’t get freaked out.”

  Was I freaked out? Oh, yeah. I was. My mind raced in a thousand directions, but couldn’t figure out where to go.

  “This isn’t what it looks like. It’s only a training session.”

  “Training?” I could have believed almost anyone as his slave before I’d believe that Deal had bowed to him.

  Deal buttoned her blouse quickly. “It’s just business, Sam.”

  “Seen enough?” Alberto asked. He phased me back to Park City. I stumbled back from him. “I know how you feel, Sam. I thought I had something going on with Deal, and she ran to Hector. Betrayed, Sam. They betrayed us. And you think I’m not your friend.” He walked away, leaving me confused and very, very angry.

  ***

  My phone rang almost immediately after Alberto left me standing in the tram queue. I didn’t have to look at the number to know it was Hector.

  “Please give me a chance to explain,” he said.

  “You don’t owe me any explanations, Hector. You can do whatever you want.”

  Suddenly gruff, he said, “Good, then I’ll explain over dinner when you get back in town. Just as friends. Okay? Are you still living with Ophir?”

  “I’m camping out at Joey’s. Listen, Hector, I’m not sure if I can--”

  “Eight o’clock. Sharp.” He hung up.

  Damn it. I didn’t want to be civilized and nice. I didn’t want to go out to dinner and make polite chit-chat. What I wanted… What I wanted was some hot, nasty ex-sex. Damn him for using that Master voice on me. My cock was already hard.

  Chapter 17

  “Ooh. Someone broke out the Dolce and Gabbana wardrobe,” Joey said when I came out of his bathroom. He leaned over his desk, where he had one of those really cool flat-panel monitors that he used for his graphic design work. Take-out wrappers spread across the edges of his desk. “That can’t possibly be for a mere mortal. Who’s the lucky trick?”

  My face got hot.

  He sniffed the air. “Is that aftershave?”

  “The hair stylist said I should use this stuff--”

  “Sam Dewey used hair product?” Joey pretended to faint. “What’s that? The third sign of the apocalypse?”

  “Very funny.” I was tempted to crawl back into the bathroom to hide. There was no way, come hell or high water, that I was going to admit that what he smelled was the little potion I worked into the hair gloop. He knew I was a witch, sort of, but I think he took that to mean in a religious sense. At least he accepted my collection of altars without batting an eye. But he would have teased me mercilessly if he knew I’d brewed a ‘come closer’ spell special for my dinner date.

  He gave me a long look. “Where you going, hot stuff?”

  “Just dinner.”

  “And then straight to bed,” he snickered.

  The security buzzer sounded through an old intercom on the wall.

  “Gotta go.” I bolted for the door.

  Joey jumped over the couch and blocked my way. “Oh, no, you don’t
. I want to see who it is. Is it Harris Smith? I soooo want to meet him.”

  “Please let me go, Joey.”

  Joey’s grin spread wider. “And here he is now. I can’t wait to see who the mystery date is.” He flung open the door.

  Hector’s hand was raised to knock. He lowered it. “Hello, Joey.”

  For once, Joey was speechless.

  Hector was in those sexy jeans, a casual shirt, and his black leather jacket.

  “I thought we were going to dinner,” I said. I’d never felt overdressed around Hector before.

  “We are. You look great, Sam, but you might want to change into something more comfortable.”

  Bewildered, I stumbled back to the bedroom. Joey followed me.

  “Hector?” he whispered.

  What to wear? Most of my clothes were in storage because Joey and I had to share his little closet. I pulled out the black cashmere sweater. No, Hector had seen me in that already.

  “Man, oh man.” Joey closed the door.

  “Is that a good ‘man, oh man,’ or a bad one?” I pulled on my jeans.

  “I don’t know, dude. You tell me. You left him for a reason.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  Joey bounded off the bed and shoved clothes aside until he found a soft gray thermal shirt. “You’re such a dork. Put this on.” He eyed me. “Not too dressy, not too casual, and it shows off your pecs.” He pulled the snap collar wide open and fluffed out a little of my chest hair. “Perfect. Push up the sleeves, too. I don’t know how you manage to have sexy forearms, but you do. Might as well flaunt them.”

  I sank down on his bed. “Am I making a mistake? He says he’s changed. But you know what an idiot I am. I don’t trust myself to make any decisions about him.”

  Joey dug into his back pocket. He withdrew his wallet and handed me a couple condoms. “It’s just dinner, Sam.”

  “He said just as friends.”

  “Better make it three, then.” He held up another condom. “What’s that look for? You’re the one who can’t keep your pants on when he’s around.”

  I snatched the package from his hand.

  “Don’t stay out too late. You have a big day tomorrow. Golden Globes!”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  ***

  “What are we doing here?” I asked as Hector pulled into the parking lot of my favorite Long Beach diner. Every time I thought I knew where I stood, he yanked the rug out from under me.

  “Dinner.”

  “Yeah, but…” It was one of my favorite burger joints, but Hector dismissed it as a greasy, boy food joint. So why in the world had he picked there, of all the places we could have gone? Maybe, compared to canned ravioli, even their food looked good to him.

  He came around the truck and opened the door for me. “Yeah, but what?”

  “I’m just kind of surprised, that’s all,” I said.

  “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

  I got out of the truck. “Nope.” I walked across the parking lot. Hector followed. Every muscle in my back tensed as if I could feel his gaze on me. As tempting as it was to look back and see if he was prowling after me, I resisted.

  The diner was the kind of place where you seated yourself. None of the booths were free, so we dodged around bustling waitresses to grab two stools at the counter. So much for my fantasy of giving him head while hiding under the thick table linens of some upscale restaurant.

  I grabbed a menu. It was a laminated card, protected from coffee spills and flying ketchup. A short Mexican guy behind the counter slapped forks and napkins in front of us before rushing off. Further down, a bigger Mexican guy manned a sizzling grill.

  Once upon a time, I could have eaten one of their double bacon chili cheeseburgers, onion rings, and a shake, and still had room for a whole row of Oreos when we got home. My cast-iron stomach was a thing of the past, so I opted for the carnitas soft tacos and a salad. Hector ordered their meatloaf.

  “It’s not as good as yours, Sam, but still pretty good. Would you like a taste?”

  Truthfully, I hated meatloaf, but he held a forkful up for me, and I opened my mouth out of habit. He watched my eyes as my lips closed around the tines. Slowly, he withdrew the fork. He cleared his throat. I sipped my drink. How could two people who’d fucked so many times be so awkward with their clothes on? Our small talk was pitiful. It was a relief when we paid our checks and headed back to his truck.

  “Did you want to go home right away, or are you okay driving around a little bit?” Hector asked.

  That overly polite dance we were doing frustrated the hell out of me. What were we doing? Was that being friends?

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. Trapped in indecision, I couldn’t even figure out what my options were.

  “Boy!”

  That jolted me out of my mental haze.

  He opened the truck door for me. “Get in.”

  Zing! Direct shot to my groin. I climbed in.

  ***

  We drove down to Seal Beach. The parking lots were closed, but that didn’t stop a God from pulling into a parking spot with a view of the Pacific. We watched the moonlit waves crash on the deserted beach. A flock of gulls settled in for the night on the sand.

  Hector’s scent smelled like home. I wanted to rest my head on his shoulder and feel his body close to mine, but he said just as friends, so I huddled against the passenger door and tried not to make a fool of myself.

  “There’s nothing going on between Deal and I,” Hector said.

  That I could believe. Absolutely. His aura shone with truth, but I didn’t need to see it to know there was nothing sexual between the two of them. So why did I feel as if I’d joined the Mad Hatter’s tea party? There was sort of a logic to everything I’d seen, but it didn’t make sense with any reality I knew.

  Hector drew a cigar out of his pocket. “Do you mind?”

  I shook my head. He lit it and exhaled. Damn him for being so hot.

  “A little over a month ago, there was a mudslide that closed the Pacific Coast Highway heading into Malibu. I’m sure you heard about it on the news, but since it happens almost every year after the winter rains start, you probably didn’t think too much about it. Angelena, however, was furious. It seems that Alberto caused it.”

  “He didn’t!”

  “As you always say, Sam, the only real sin in LA is messing up traffic. An unforgivable sin. It’s even worse when one God trespasses on another God’s territory, and despite being warned, Alberto keeps doing it. He’s very unpopular in the neighborhood. Even the Goddess of First Dates wants his head on a platter. The other Gods came to me and demanded that I do something about him.”

  I would have liked to have seen Hector whip Alberto’s ass.

  “I don’t play with boys who aren’t mine.” He gave me a stern look. Maybe he knew what was going through my mind and was warning me not to even think about it. “So I told them I wouldn’t. They weren’t happy about it, but no one was willing to do anything, until Alberto made a serious error. He messed with Deal.”

  “No!” I pictured Deal’s cold eyes staring down Alberto. What an idiot he was. Of all the Goddesses to cross, he chose the one who would relish her revenge.

  Hector’s grin was huge. “Yes. She’s been working for months to put together a movie deal. One of Alberto’s worshippers wanted the same script for a vanity project, so he stole it right out from under her. She wanted blood, as you can imagine. So I agreed to teach her how to be a Master. That’s why I was flogging her. You know what a stickler I am for technique. I don’t think anyone should use a whip or a flogger on someone until they’ve felt it first. There’s nothing between Deal and I.”

  “You said that before.”

  “I wanted to make sure you knew.”

  “Okay.” Now what?

  “You sounded angry when I called, Sam.”

  “I was pissed off at Alberto. I'd told him to leave me alone. I sort of told off Brett, too. We
’re not friends anymore, if we ever really were. You told me all the time that he was being a shit to me, but I wouldn’t listen. He finally pushed me too far, though, so I told him I never wanted to see him again. It’s scary how easy it’s getting to cut people out of my life.”

  “I don’t think it’s that easy for you. I think you give people every chance and then some. It’s not your fault when they blow it. Sometimes, walking away is the only option left.” He sounded so mournful. “Anyway, I just wanted to be sure you knew that.” He started the engine. “It’s getting late, and you have a big day tomorrow, Sam. I better get you back to Joey’s.”

 

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