As I Am

by A. M. Arthur

  “That’s really brave.” Will’s respect for Taz doubled. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, but maybe this is a good thing. A good push to step out of your comfort zone.”

  “I hope it is.” Taz started to speak, then hesitated.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. Tell me about you.”

  Will grunted. “My mother’s lawyer called me this morning. He wanted me to tell him about seeing Christopher, but I basically told him to fuck off.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Yeah, I just... I got mad thinking that if she had useful information for Detective Morrell, that she could use it to her advantage. I mean, she’s not even eligible for parole for another twelve years, but who knows what could happen? Shady deals go on all the time, don’t they? Especially if the cops are looking at a bigger fish?”

  “Do you think your mother has information on big drug players?”

  “I doubt it.” Will had no illusions that she’d used everything she knew to keep her own sentence down, but she’d spent month after month in a haze of heroin and alcohol, so God knew if she remembered anything she could trade to the police. “I’m probably overreacting.”

  Taz was staring at him, his eyebrows furrowed, as intense as Will had ever seen him. The direct attention made Will back up a step and say, “What?”

  “You don’t think this Christopher guy would come at you, do you?”

  Will wrapped his arms around his middle, his stomach squirrelly all of the sudden. “I never really thought about it. I mean, I was able to stay pretty anonymous during the first year of trials, even with my last name, and I’m not on any social media. He definitely recognized me at the bar that night, but he’d have a hard time tracking me down.” And now that the idea was planted in his head, a cold knot of fear twisted his stomach up tight. “Fuck.”

  “I’m sorry.” Taz moved toward him, stopping an arm’s length away. “I’m not trying to freak you out, I promise. I’m worried. I mean, you told me you were abused, but the guy handling your case is a narcotics detective, so I’m guessing there’s way more to the story.”

  So much more than you could possibly guess.

  He could give Taz a little bit more truth, though. “My mother was a heavy drug user, for a lot of years. It’d be three years ago this past January, the cops were tracking a known drug dealer, and they busted him doing a deal at our house. That’s when I went into foster care.” Will had probably given Taz enough clues of the big picture to finish assembling the puzzle for himself, but he didn’t seem to see the connections between the drug dealers and Will’s abuse.

  Or maybe he didn’t want to make the connection, because Will’s reality for two years had been a living hell. No one wanted to think such a thing was possible. That a teenage boy could be treated like cash money.

  Taz let out a sad, ragged sound. “It sucks thinking you were living in such a bad situation while I was partying it up at college.”

  For some reason, that made Will laugh—a sound both hard and brittle. “It is what it is, though, right? We can’t change our pasts. Honestly, I thought I was going to be able to leave all that shit behind, but now it’s gotten stirred up again. Maybe I have too many skeletons in my closet to ever be able to shut that door completely.”

  “Then you rip off the door and find another way to seal it,” Taz said. “Board it up, brick it up, whatever it takes. I want to be there while you do it. Help, if you ask.”

  Will’s heart melted a bit. “Thank you. I mean it. Talking to you about this? It really helps.”

  “I’m glad. We haven’t known each other that long, but you’re important to me. I want to help make you happy.”

  “Likewise.” He reached out and clasped Taz’s hand. Squeezed. “I’m sorry your dad left. I know it’s not the same, but you still have me.”

  Taz smiled. “It’s not the same. It’s better.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Definitely.”

  Will had half a mind to kiss him, simply to know what it would feel like, but he didn’t want to cross any lines that might upset Taz more. Not with his dad’s departure still such a fresh wound. “I’ll call later to check in, okay? Once I’m done with setup.”

  “Okay. Have fun.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Will squeezed his hand once more, and then let go. He grabbed his sweatshirt, and all too soon he was outside, dialing for a taxi to take him across town to the fund-raiser venue. Some nightclub called Altitude. He wanted Taz to be beside him, for them to spend the day doing this. Creating something that would benefit so many homeless kids.

  But Taz had his own shit to deal with, and it was probably too soon to prod the guy into leaving the house and socializing with a group of strangers. Will wasn’t much of a social butterfly himself, but he knew that days like this were good for him. Good for his anxiety and his recovery. Good for acting like a normal human being once in a while.

  Good for helping him be the best person he could possibly be, so that he didn’t disappoint Taz. So that one day he’d be the person he wanted to be—happy and wanted. Needed. In love.

  Whole.

  Chapter Nine

  Taz spent the rest of his morning and part of his afternoon in a state of constant agitation, alternately pacing the apartment and staring blankly at the walls. He’d left two voice mails on Peter’s phone and sent a text, but so far he hadn’t heard back. So many things kept flying through his brain—everything from finding out Peter was in prison, to the Morrell connection, to Will’s admission that his mother had been a heavy drug user.

  All pieces of a larger picture he was terrified to put together.

  He wanted Peter to call him back and say Morrell was lying, of course Peter had never been in prison. He wanted Peter to admit it, but explain it had nothing—absolutely, positively nothing—to do with drugs or with Will’s own case. He had no reason to think they were, other than coincidental timing. Coincidences happened in real life all the time.

  When waiting got to be too much, Taz gave up and got online. He’d never searched the internet for an arrest record before, and he was a little surprised to find all kinds of websites for doing it. He typed in Peter’s name and the state of Delaware. His finger hovered over the mouse for a long time before he clicked Search.

  He flung himself out of the desk chair and paced from his bedroom to the front door three times before daring to look at his computer again. He doubled over, stomach so tight it nearly turned inside out.

  Peter had served eight years for aggravated possession of a controlled substance.

  Taz didn’t have to be a lawyer to know that meant he’d had a crap ton of drugs on him. He didn’t want to believe what was right in front of him. The man he knew couldn’t possibly—the date caught his eye. Almost twenty years ago. Peter had been about Taz’s age now when he’d been arrested. Twenty years was a lifetime.

  He didn’t read anything else. He couldn’t stand anymore. Not until he talked to Peter himself. Maybe Morrell had a grudge against Peter, something from the past, and he was trying to rattle Peter’s cage. Make his own son turn against him out of spite.

  Around two in the afternoon, Will texted him a few photos of the venue.

  I’m going to stay. They have a video feed in the greenroom, so I can watch the show without being around all those people. Never seen drag live. I wish you’d come and watch with me.

  Taz stared at the message, buoyed by the fact that Will wanted him by his side. To share a first experience. It would be Taz’s first drag show, too. And maybe it would help keep his mind off Peter.

  He called.

  “Hey, you,” Will said, picking up before the second ring finished. “Give me a sec.” Muffled voices faded away, and after a few seconds, he said, “Sorry, I wanted privacy.�
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  “I get it. How’s the setup going?”

  “Well, Jonas and Anthony seem happy with what we’re doing, and they’re the ones who came up with this whole thing, so that’s good, right?”

  Taz chuckled. “Sounds good to me. You doing okay with it all?”

  “Better now than when I first got here. We all got grouped off, and at first, I was in the kitchen and helping with food, but the chef they got? Malcolm Reeves? He talks too much. Kept asking me questions, so I swapped jobs with one of the girls who sleeps at the shelter.”

  “Some of the kids are volunteering?”

  “Yeah, two. It’s pretty awesome, actually, to see them trying to give back to a place that’s done a lot for them.”

  He didn’t miss the wistfulness in Will’s voice. He also didn’t understand it. “So you’re staying for the drag show?”

  “Yup. I already talked to Jonas about it. He’s totally cool with me hiding in the greenroom.” Will laughed. “I think he’s mostly thrilled I’ve made it this long without freaking out. I’m actually kind of proud of myself.”

  “I’m proud of you, too.” Taz really wanted to tell him that in person. He wanted to see Will interacting with other people his age. Taz had only ever had Will all to himself. “Uh, you think this Jonas guy would mind if I sat in the greenroom, too? With you?”

  Will made a strangled gasping sound. “Really?”

  “Yes. I want to see you. I want to see a drag show.” He wanted to see Will while he watched his first drag show.

  “Jonas won’t care. I mentioned yesterday that I might have a friend help us set up today, so he’ll be fine with you coming. Um, how are you going to get here with your dad out of town?”

  Taz’s heart sank. His dad had driven him everywhere for the last two years, and Altitude was too far to walk to. “I don’t know.” No way would he make it on the bus. Too many people staring at him in close quarters. “I could call a taxi, I guess. Or that Uber thing.” Close quarters with one stranger shouldn’t be too awful. He could ignore any funny looks for ten or twenty minutes. However long it took to get to the nightclub.

  “What if...?” Will didn’t complete the question.

  “What if what?”

  “What if I could get someone to pick you up?”

  The idea of a stranger knocking on his door—the second one today—made something dark and unhappy slither through Taz’s gut. But he trusted Will. Will wouldn’t send over someone he thought would stare or sneer. “Who?”

  “I’m not sure, I’ll have to see who has a car. Um, is that okay?”

  “I think so.” Now that he’d decided to go see the show, Taz really, really wanted to make this happen. If Will had the balls not only to help with the setup, but also to stay, then Taz could drag his sorry, scarred ass over there and watch the show with him. “Okay, yes.”

  “So I have your permission to give out your address?”

  Taz’s heart melted a little bit more at the tender way Will was treating his feelings. Being so careful that he was comfortable with all of this. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Will whooped a little. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Me too.” So much truth in two little words. “Shit, what do I wear?”

  “Wear whatever makes you feel comfortable. We’ll be in the back, away from all the mingling, so no one’s going to care.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I’ll text you when I know who’s picking you up, so you have a general idea of when to be ready, all right?”

  “Sounds great. See you soon, Will.”

  “Cool, ‘bye.”

  Taz hung up, oddly more settled now that he was going out than he’d been before making the call. He also vowed to put his phone on silent the second he left his apartment. Whatever his dad had to say for himself about prison, he didn’t want it to intrude on his evening with Will. If Peter didn’t call him back before then, it would have to wait.

  Maybe.

  He cursed his indecision on the way to the kitchen for a snack. Might as well feed himself before his date.

  “Is it a date, though?” he asked the fridge door. Nah, it was something two friends were doing together. Because that’s all they were right now. Friends.

  It was still too soon to be anything else.

  * * *

  For some reason he could not put his finger on, Will was more nervous about Taz arriving at the benefit than he’d been about showing up himself that morning. And not because he was ashamed of Taz or embarrassed by his scars. Hell, Will barely saw the scars anymore, and they’d only been hanging out for five days. He wanted Taz to be comfortable and enjoy himself tonight. It was probably the first really social thing Taz had done since the acid.

  It was the most social thing Will had done in his life that didn’t include sex.

  And as much as Will still wanted to drag Taz into bed with him, he totally got the whole getting-to-know-you-better thing that Taz wanted. He respected it, even if he didn’t completely agree with it. Sex was all Will had ever been able to offer anyone, but Taz insisted he had more to give.

  Will wasn’t so sure about that.

  All of the day’s volunteers got free entry to the show, so people were trickling in and out of the bathrooms, changing from basic wardrobe into nicer button-up tops and khakis. Will was just fine in his jeans and T-shirt, since he had a front-row seat backstage.

  The doors opened at seven, and the interior of the club looked great. Altitude was a narrow space, with a bar on one side and a stage on the far back wall that protruded out into the dance area like a runway. They’d decorated the place to go along with Lenore Lestat’s musical theme, and she seemed ecstatic with everything they’d done. All kinds of freshly made finger foods were set up on a table opposite the bar, next to another table that had the silent auction stuff.

  Will observed the room from his spot near the stage, pretty pleased with how it had all turned out. Proud of his own participation today. He’d tried making small talk, but he absolutely sucked at it, because he hated talking about himself. There wasn’t anything interesting about him at all.

  At six forty-five his phone dinged with a text.

  We’re here.

  Will bounced on his toes, then made his way to the door near the greenroom that said Staff on it. That door led into a corridor that had an employee lounge, storage and the owner’s office. It also led to the back door where deliveries were made and employees came and went. He pushed the door open, letting in a blast of humid summer air and three smiling figures.

  After discussing his request with both Jonas and Tate, they’d volunteered Tate’s shelter cofounder Dave Golding to pick Taz up on his way back to the fund-raiser. Dave had helped with setup and then gone home to get his wife. Taz’s apartment wasn’t even out of his way. With all three codirectors at the fund-raiser, Will couldn’t help wondering who was opening the shelter at eight, but that was between them. Not really his business.

  Dave and his wife nodded politely at him as they made their way to the club. Taz brought up the rear, wearing khaki shorts and a green hoodie. His smile got even brighter when he met Will’s eyes, and Will couldn’t stop himself from hugging him. He needed to know Taz was real. He was actually there.

  The heart thumping wildly against his chest proved he was. Will tugged his head down so he could kiss Taz’s right cheek.

  Taz laughed. “A guy could get used to hello like that.”

  “I’m excited you decided to come.” Will took his hand and dragged him toward the door to the main floor. “Want to take a quick peek before we go hide from the crowd waiting to storm the gates?”

  “Sure.”

  Will led him down the short hallway that stopped at the rear corner of the stage. From there, they could see the club without being too
exposed. He wanted Taz as comfortable as possible so he could enjoy himself. He pointed out who some of the people were, especially Jonas and Anthony, because they’d put all of this together. And even from a distance, Anthony looked like a nervous wreck, which, strangely, calmed Will’s own nerves a bit.

  “There’s going to be some people in the greenroom besides Lenore,” Will said. “Her two friends are probably with her, plus there’s this comedian who’s opening the show.”

  “Okay.” Taz squeezed his hand. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “You’re welcome. I didn’t want you to be surprised.”

  “I appreciate that. A lot.”

  Will turned and, still holding hands, walked Taz back down the hall to the greenroom door. He didn’t really know why it was called a greenroom, since the walls were ivory, but it was probably a showbiz thing. Taz hesitated inside, probably taking it all in. The room had several sofas, once of which was facing a huge flat-screen TV that was broadcasting the empty stage. Lenore was fluttering around by a makeup table. Her friends were tucked up close together on one of the couches. The comedian—Will couldn’t remember the dude’s name—was off by himself with earbuds in, listening to something on his phone.

  “Hey there, honeys,” Lenore said, flashing them both a bright smile. “I heard we’d have some folks enjoying the show from the wings.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Will said.

  “Pssh, don’t ma’am me, I’m not your mother. But you certainly don’t look old enough to be out past ten.”

  Will rolled his eyes.

  “He’s nineteen,” Taz said, something like anger in his voice.

  Lenore only laughed, and then introductions went around. No one seemed to give a second glance at Taz’s scars, so Jonas or someone had probably warned them in advance. Or they simply weren’t as noticeable as Taz believed. The first time he’d met Taz, Will had noticed the scars because he was looking for them. Taz had told him about them.

  Maybe people didn’t see them first off. He hoped so. He thought Taz was gorgeous, inside and out.

  Will led him to the couch facing the TV, and they sat down close enough so their knees bumped together. The doors to the club would be opening soon, but the show didn’t start for another thirty minutes. Someone came in with a plate of different finger foods for them all to share, but Will was too jittery to try to eat.