Rain and Whiskey

by BA Tortuga

  Jack looked at him, finally nodded. “Hey, Galen.”

  Galen grabbed the doughnuts and headed for the kitchen and Shane, knowing that would make it easier for him to deal. God, it was fucking weird to see them, to see Jack and not try to fucking kill him.

  The coffee was perking, five cups out on the table, along with the sugar and milk and some spoons. Shane gave them all a smile, a nod. “Morning, y’all. Coffee’ll be up in two shakes.”

  Sam chuckled. “Cute and efficient.”

  “Yeah, and taken.” Galen growled it, giving Sam a dire look before moving to get a plate for the doughnuts. “Come on and sit down. I won’t bite. What the hell are y’all doing here?”

  They all pulled out chairs and plopped down, Robbie giving him another of those annoying grins. “We were in Miami visiting Chuck, and Sam said, ‘We should go see Lenny.’”

  Shane brought the coffeepot over and poured, the act practiced and still vaguely asleep. Galen stroked Shane’s thigh as he passed, taking comfort in the normalcy of it. He was glad as anything they hadn’t brought Chuck with them, or he would have sent them packing and pride be damned. It was one thing to be fucked with. It was another altogether to film it and try and use it against him. He waited until Shane sat to make the introductions.

  “Shane, this is Sam, Robbie, and Jack. Fellas, this is Shane.” These are the fuckers that pretended to be my friends and the bastard that made sure I fucked up in public enough to have to ruin my career. This crew is why I watch every drink. Why I’m ashamed.

  “Hey, y’all.” Shane gave everyone a grin, a nod. “Nice to meet you.”

  The three of them nodded, shook all around, even Jack.

  God, Galen wanted to snarl. He took a deep breath, grabbing Shane’s hand lightly as he reached for a doughnut, running his fingers over Shane’s palm. “So, y’all heading back up to Miami tonight?”

  “Nope.” Sam munched a jelly, crumbs flying. “Got us a hotel room in Key West.”

  “Well, if you stop by the Connection, I’ll give y’all a round on the house.” Shane’s leg leaned against his, warm and familiar. “There’s got to be a benefit to tending bar.”

  “Sounds good.” Jack smiled, very deliberately picking up a filled doughnut and biting into it.

  Only then did Galen grab one. Great. Just great. Now he’d have to spend all day with them.

  “Yeah. Sounds fine.” Galen smiled at Shane, rubbed his knee against Shane’s leg.

  “So you’re a bartender? You find this hooligan over a whiskey, Shane?” Robbie winked, grinned.

  “He found me.” Shane slid right into bartender-mode, joking easily, relaxed.

  “And I know a good thing when I see it.” That, at least, he could say with perfect sincerity.

  Shane’s hand wrapped around his knee, petting. “Where are y’all heading next? Working around the country?”

  “Yeah.” Sam nodded, grabbed another doughnut. “We’re bummin’ around. Jack retired this year. Did you know that, Lenny?”

  “Nope. Jack and I haven’t spoken much.”

  Jack snorted into his coffee but didn’t say anything, and Galen was grateful, because he didn’t want to cause a fight.

  “Wow. Hell of a vacation fund. I think I’d get to missing my own bed.”

  “Well, you have Galen to come home to, don’t you?” Jack grinned over at Shane, making Galen stiffen. “That would make any man happy to find his own bed.”

  “You got that right.” Shane nodded, oblivious, smiling back.

  “We were hoping you’d play a round of touch football with us, Galen. For old time’s sake.”

  Fuck. Well, at least that would keep them busy. “Sure. Why not? Shane’s got to go to work this afternoon, but I’m willing to play a game before lunch.”

  Shane chuckled. “Should I get the camera and take pictures for posterity?”

  “Nope. Lenny’s been out of the league so long, we’ll give you to him for his team. That way we’ll be even. Me and Jack against you and Sam and Lenny.”

  Galen sighed, but nodded at Robbie. “Sounds good. You gotta let us put some real clothes on, though.”

  Shane stood, poured another round of coffee, reached to take a cake donut. “So long as y’all don’t mind me sucking. Baseball’s my game.”

  “We wouldn’t mind you sucking at all.”

  Galen stood at that, staring at Jack. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  Jack stood too, nodding. “Sure thing, buddy.”

  They went out to the living room, ignoring Shane’s questioning look and Robbie’s curious stare. As they left, Galen could hear Sam take up the conversation, asking where Shane was from. Bless Sam, he had a good heart.

  Galen turned on Jack as soon as they were out of earshot. “I haven’t said anything, because I don’t want to upset Sam, mainly, but you so much as lay a finger on Shane and I’ll have your balls. You got that?”

  Jack held up his hands, an ingratiating smile on his face. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Galen.”

  “Good. You keep it that way.” He looked at Jack, wondering how he’d ever really found the man that fascinating, that attractive. Why hadn’t he been able to see what an asshole he was? “You’ll leave tonight and not come back.”

  He got a short nod. “We will.”

  Galen nodded back, just as sharply, and headed back for the kitchen. He could stand one day, even if he did have to watch every move Jack made. He could. And then he’d never have to see the man again.

  Period.

  MAN, THE place was rocking for the off-season—the waiters were running their asses off, the Blenders playing on stage, people fucking everywhere. He was flipping bottles and joking and working good and steady.

  Especially given he was fucking sore. Touch football his left nut.

  Damn.

  Those boys played rough, and Galen? Sore as a wet hen over God knew what.

  Not that he had time to worry on it right now, God knew, but tonight? After a long, long bath? Then he’d worry.

  “Shane! Round of flaming Dr Peppers! Seven!”

  “Shit. I got you, Mark.”

  “Hey, when you get a minute, Shane, can I get a whiskey for Galen and a beer for me?” Jake. John. Jack! That was it. Jack was smiling at him, half a wink coming his way.

  “Yeah. Sure, no sweat. You’re drinking Coors?”

  “Yep. That would be great.”

  He poured the shots, then two beers and a margarita, before he poured Len’s whiskey and J… the J-dude’s Coors. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks. You’re as good at that as you are at coffee.” J-dude gave him a wink and sashayed off, which was a pretty neat feat for a guy that size.

  “Appletinis and three greyhounds, Shane-baby!”

  He nodded, laughed hard. “Got it. Where are these folks coming from?”

  “Probably some special hell reserved for men who want to go home and have at their lovers, darlin’.” Oh, Len was there, holding a full whiskey. “Can I trade this in on one you pour special for me?”

  “Hmm?” He chuckled, reached for the glass. “I poured that one, but I could use a shot, so I’ll trade.”

  Galen leaned over and dumped it in the runoff well, looking uncomfortable as anything. “I didn’t think you were supposed to drink on the job.”

  “Shane? You paying for that?” Damn that broad and her eagle eyes.

  “You know it, boss.” He rolled his eyes, winking over. “Shot of Jack, Len?”

  “Please. And that one was already paid for. I just didn’t want it.” Galen smiled at him, but it was tight around the eyes.

  “Su….” He trailed off as another order was yelled. Strawberry top-shelfs. Right. He grabbed the booze and poured Len’s, then handed it over and grabbed the margarita glasses. Galen left him to his work, heading toward the back where his buddies were sitting.

  Shane managed to get a break while the band was between sets and wandered over to see Galen and the guys. “Hey, y’all. Ev
erybody happy?”

  “Yeah. We’re having a good old time.” J-guy patted the chair next to him. “Galen had to take a leak. Sit with us.”

  “Yeah, okay. For a second. I’m on break. I can’t believe how full we are.”

  “It’s really rockin’. I can see why you’d like it.” Sam, that was that one’s name. He seemed like a real decent guy. “Oh, hey, Robbie. The dartboard’s open. Let’s go.”

  Robbie and Sam made tracks, leaving him sitting there with J-guy.

  He smiled over, sorta hollering over the noise. “Where y’all staying tonight?”

  “Somewhere? I don’t know. Robbie made the arrangements.” Jack’s hand brushed his. “So are you and Galen a solid thing? Or do you play?”

  “Huh? Play?” He tilted his head. Like he’d have that kind of stamina. Shit.

  “Yeah. Galen used to be a regular open door.”

  “Galen?” His Galen? He laughed, shook his head. Right. There were lots of things you could call Len, but slutty? No.

  “Heck yes. Of course, you had to loosen him up a bit first.” That hand worked its way over to rub his arm. “I bet you’d be good that way too.”

  Before he could even blink, that hand was gone, and Jack—his name was Jack—was sitting on the floor, blinking up at Galen, who was sort of looming, face set in hard lines.

  “You don’t touch him.” Shane could hear Galen’s voice over the noise just fine.

  “Hey. Hey, Len. I’m good. Honest.” He stood, hand reaching for Galen, hoping to stay between Len and Miss Lynn.

  Galen shook him off, not looking at him. Which was probably smart, because Jack was on his feet and swinging.

  “Shit! Y’all! Come on.” He shook his head. Last thing he fucking needed was for Galen to get banned for fighting. “Don’t.”

  Crap. Galen looked at him for a split second, and that was just enough time for Jack’s fist to hit sharply, right smack on Galen’s right eye. Galen growled, going in low and hard, taking Jack down in a tackle and sitting on him, punching away.

  “Jesus Christ!” He grabbed Galen’s arm. “Galen. Fuck. Stop it. You’re gonna get your ass arrested!”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. He so fucking didn’t need this.

  Robbie and Sam arrived about then, Sam looking as worried as he felt, pulling the two fighting men apart. Galen poked a finger in Jack’s direction. “Get him the fuck out of my sight.”

  “Shit. Come on, Galen.” He pulled harder, trying to get them away from the chaos. “God dammit, get it together.”

  Galen turned on him, eyes wild. “If you hadn’t been fucking flirting with him like you do with everything on three legs, I wouldn’t have a problem.”

  “What? I wasn’t flirting with him. I was waiting on you.”

  “He was touching you.” There was a noise behind them, a wet gurgle, and he could see Jack getting up, supported on either side by Sam and Robbie. He thought for a minute Galen was gonna go after the guy again.

  “So? What does that have to do with anything? He’s just a guy, for fuck’s sake. Let it go.” He could hear the rumbling, the way people were starting to talk. Shit.

  “No, he’s not just a guy. Goddammit, Shane, why do you think I wouldn’t drink the whiskey he brought me?”

  “Because I….” He stopped, looked over. “You mean, him? But…. Why? Why the fuck did you let him in? Why didn’t you…?”

  They’d taken a fucking shower together after football; Galen could have told him.

  “I was gonna tell you. After they left. I didn’t….” Galen threw up his hands. “I thought you could stay away long enough for them to be gone before I said.”

  “Stay away? Fuck you, man.” He stepped forward. “What the fuck’s wrong with you? You don’t fucking trust me now?”

  His heart was pounding, cheeks hot as hell. Like he’d done anything to get called a slut.

  “No! It’s not you…. I—damn it, Shane. It’s him. I didn’t want them to… and maybe I shouldn’t. You looked pretty fucking cozy.” Galen was just as red, yelling at him, fucking looming over him.

  “Get the fuck out of my face.” He pushed Galen back away, shaking. “God knows, you caught me fucking sucking him off, right? Or jacking him? Oh. Oh, wait. I was sitting? In a chair? Call the goddamned papers.”

  Galen stumbled back, hand coming up to rub his chest. Galen’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Miss Lynn was there, poking Galen on the arm. “You, get out, before I call the cops.”

  Galen ignored her, looking at him. “Shane….”

  He looked over at Miss Lynn, shaking his head. “He’ll go, okay? No cops.”

  “Get him out of here. Then you and me are having a talk, kiddo.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Fuck. Shit. “You gotta go, Galen. I have to get back to work.”

  Looking at him long and hard, Galen nodded once, sharp. “Fine. Work is so all fired important to you, then you just stay here. And stay the fuck away from me.” And Galen was gone, turning on his boot heel and walking right out the door, shoulders and back stiff.

  Oh.

  The bar was sure quiet, damned quiet, just the jukebox playing and…. “Sorry, boss. I’ll get….”

  “Get your shit and go, Shane.”

  He closed his eyes for a second, swaying. “What?”

  “You’re fired. You know I don’t allow you kids to pull that crap. You can’t keep your lovers from seeing each other? Not my problem. Get your shit, your tips, and go. You can pick up your last check Monday.”

  Shane shook his head. “Come on, Lynn. Don’t do this. It won’t happen again.”

  “You’re right. Matt, give him his tips so he can go.”

  That stiffened his spine, got him moving. Everybody was watching him, watching this. God. “I can do it. I got stuff in my locker. I need it.”

  “Fine. Get it and go.”

  Yeah. Yeah. Go. That… that sort of seemed to be the theme of the evening. Going.

  Chapter Twelve

  HE SLAMMED into the house, leaving the truck rocking on its springs, and paced like a caged animal. Goddamn that fucking Jack anyway. He was always fucking up Galen’s life, even four years after….

  Four years. Two years of living up to what Jack thought of him, two of getting his shit together after his momma had kicked him out, told him not to come back if he couldn’t be sober around her. After she told him any man who respected himself, and her, wouldn’t be the way he was.

  And now the man had fucked things up with Shane.

  Oh, now, he was nothing if not honest, at least with himself. He’d let Jack fuck things up with Shane. Galen almost got his baseball bat and got back in his truck and went to search all of the hotels the guys might be staying at, but he stopped himself, figuring that now that Sam and Robbie knew everything, he’d never have to worry about seeing them again.

  Besides, he wanted to wait for Shane. He’d be off work soon, and home. Galen could apologize to him then. Explain what he couldn’t when Miss Lynn was poking him and people were staring at them and he was getting Shane in trouble.

  Yeah. He’d wait. Shane was bound to be home soon.

  IT WAS funny.

  Well, not really funny, but that was what people said, wasn’t it? It was funny how in five minutes a guy could go from happy to lost. Just like that. Just a couple words and his heart, his home, job, everything. Boom. Just like that.

  Sorta like when he’d called home to Tennessee to tell them he was staying in the Keys and Momma had hung up the phone and cut him out.

  It was funny, because only last night, only this morning, he was right on track, loving and living, and now he was in his Jeep wondering if he had a friend he could crash with and having the sinking feeling that he didn’t.

  It made him wonder, a little, what was wrong with him that it was easy to get rid of him, say go away and shut the door. He thought he was an okay guy, thought he was cool, easy to talk to, easy to love, but when he started adding the numbers and su
ddenly after twenty-eight years of living life he was down to the tips in his pocket, two shirts, and a 1982 Jeep CJ7?

  Maybe easy to love meant easy to stop loving too.

  GALEN WOKE up in the middle of the night, reaching. Like he always seemed to.

  He sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes and debating the merits of late-night television.

  Shane hadn’t come home. Not the night of the fight, and not since. Galen had almost gone looking for him a hundred times. Lord knew, he should be easy enough to find at the bar. But damn it, it came down to the same thing it had the night Galen had walked out of that place.

  If that piddly-assed job was more important than he was, then Shane could kiss his ass. A man had his pride.

  Didn’t keep him from wanting, did it? Or waking up in the middle of the night and reaching.

  Galen sighed, rolled out of bed, and got his suitcase out. He was going up to Momma’s next week for Thanksgiving.

  He might as well pack.

  He sure as hell wasn’t sleeping any more tonight.

  SHANE PULLED over, the sunshine and the tears making the road too swimmy to drive on.

  He’d not really believed Lynn wouldn’t let him come back. He’d thought she’d think on it and change her mind, but she hadn’t. Just handed him a check with thirty-four dollars and eighteen cents taken out for Galen’s outstanding tab and told him to go.

  That led to every bar he could think of—even the scary ones—then the convenience stores, the gas stations, the grocery store.

  He sold his phone after Galen didn’t call and it was clear no phone call was coming. He sold his little gold chain and all the CDs in the Jeep and cashed his check, and, well, he was as close to the bottom of the barrel as he’d ever been….

  He wanted to go home so bad it hurt like the dull ache after a hard punch. ’Course that ache wasn’t nothing like the hurt left behind when he realized that there wasn’t one to go to.

  He let himself be stupid and cry and puke and rage there in the late November sun, and then he went to find a quiet place to park the Jeep for the night, save his pennies.