“Do you know his name? Do you know anything about him?” I questioned. “Steven, I know you aren’t a fool, but not knowing your competition is stupid.”
“Like you know who your competition is,” Steven said sarcastically.
“This is not about me, and you’d better focus, because you know what they do to good-looking gay guys in jail.” I finally got his attention.
“Yea, I see what you mean,” he said coming to his senses.
We planned all day how to stake out Sam’s apartment.If we had to spend a year searching for Mr. X we had no choice. We had to discover who Mr. X is. We had to find out who Sam was seeing because Steven’s life depended on it.
* * * *
The next day we rented a car. We didn’t want to be noticed lurking around, and the car, a dark compact Honda suited our purpose. We were into our new jobs—detectives. I guess we could have been Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson or you could call us Abbot and Costello. That night we sat in that little car looking as if we were going to rob someone; there we sat hiding, and casing Sam’s apartment.
Finally, Sam trotted out of his apartment about eleven pm on the coldest Saturday night I have ever experienced in New York City, wearing a dark blue pea coat. The kind you see sailors wearing in those old movies. After I completed commentary on his attire, Steven became angry because he had given Sam that coat, and Sam dared wear it on a tryst with someone else.
“He has his nerves, wearing my coat to see another man,” he said, as he became angry with himself for being a fool.
I had to remind Steven why we were here and that Sam was no longer his wonderful paramour. He had to face the fact that Sam was a murderer; he long ceased to be the love of Steven’s life.
After leaving his apartment, Sam looked around nervously as if he had something to hide, then went to his garage and drove out in his Lexus.
Steven tried to make excuses for Sam. Steven said that he probably had to walk the dog, but there was no dog in sight. I had to tell Steven to wake up and get real. He’s in a car and not walking his dog.
It is strange what love will do to your senses. Love will tell you that you are blind when you can see. Love will make you laugh when you know you should be crying; love will make you walk around not seeing the world. Love will conquer your mind and will. You can’t think or function. You become totally insane, not knowing truth from fiction.
Sam drove several times around the block and finally stopped at another apartment. He called someone on his cell phone, and that someone ran out and jumped into Sam’s car.
It was clear that the two men were connected in some way, because the man kissed Sam when he entered the car. At that moment, I looked over at Steven and his face showed disappointment, heartache, and hatred. He did not say a word; he did not have to. The pain was etched on his face.
The couple drove around for hours as we followed close behind, and the rendezvous ended near the borough of Queens near an airport motel.
We waited until Sam exited the car into the lobby of this cheap motel, and walked out of the lobby with a key. I suggested we call the police, but Steven said that the police might arrest us for wasting their time.
There we were again sitting in a parked car, in the middle of winter, in the dark, waiting to be car jacked or mugged. A beggar sauntered up to the car, and then asked for two dollars. He stood leering, then patiently waited for an answer.
Here we are paying someone not to mugs us, I thought. We looked frantically for the money he requested. To our surprise, we left our money in the apartment. Steven finally managed to find two quarters. The homeless man said, “I guess if that’s all you have.” Then he left without a thank you.
I explained to Steven that I didn’t come to New York to be killed in a parked car in front of a cheesy motel in the dead of winter. I could have very well stayed in Texas and died in the warmth of the sun in comfortable surroundings. I could have been anywhere in the world, and here I am in Queens, in front of a sleazy motel. What a night!
Steven sat in the cold car crying and moaning like hell was breaking loose. He didn’t believe that Sam was cheating on him with another man, and one that had more money than him.
You could tell by the apartment Mr. X crept out of that he was from old money, not the type of money I inherited from Mike, or the money Steven was stealing from rich women in his salon on the beauty treatments he swore they needed.
Steven didn’t see Sam’s wife as a threat, but another man just did not sit right with him. When he realized what was happening to him he became angrier. His thinking became irrational. I tried to convince him not to get out of the car, but he didn’t listen.
It was an asinine race of the heart, and Steven was the lead donkey—tripping on his own tail and coming in last. He ran and slipped on the shoveled snow that had hardened into ice, yet that didn’t stop him. He got up and headed for the room.
The next thing I knew, Steven kicked in the hotel door, as I stood screaming for him to stop. I’m sure he didn’t think that through, because he did not want to see Mr. X and Sam in the act of simulating animalistic passionate love. It was a triangle that Steven didn’t want to participate in or could not; yet he was in love and love makes you crazy.
Steven looked comical as he initiated the act of kicking in a door, if the door hadn’t been flimsy, Steven would have severed his arm and leg and probably lost consciousness. I attributed his eagerness to too much television at an early age and more cop shows than the law allowed.
As he entered the room like a jealous woman who had caught her husband in a compromising position, he broke down and cried once more. I was in complete empathy with Steven, because he was an easy victim—he was in love.
Mr. X was completely surprised to see a woman and a man in front row seats to an X rated event, best left on the cable channel, seedy theatres, and back alleys.
“How could you?” Steven shouted.
“Steven it’s not what you think,” Sam said, as Mr. X. glanced at Sam and ran for the restroom. Sam no doubt thought Steven did not believe his own eyes, or left his mind in Manhattan.
“If it is not what I think, then what is it?” Steven said standing with his hand on his hip. He was such a contradiction. One minute Miami Vice, the next minute he should have been arrested by the Vice.
“I see you here with another man and your wife is dead, and I am up on murder charges. Looks like you two are having a fucking good time at my expense.”
Steven finally came to his senses, but it took some time.
“You told me that you loved me, and here I find you with this old, rich, cunt. What do you have to say for yourself, Sam?” Everyone was silent, even Mr. X. who at his age of sixty and change was quite handsome with startling blue eyes and mingled grey hair and a taut body. “What do you have to say? You two hung me out to dry, and let me take a rap for that murder; now you are fucking celebrating.”
There was nothing for Sam to say. Steven reached for the nearest lamp and flung it into the mirror. Maybe he could not stand to see the double image of his lover coiled with another man like Rodin’s statue, “The Kiss.” Maybe he couldn’t stand to see his own image and what he became when he was jealous. Maybe it was the shame of loving someone blindly that made him look stupid.
I couldn’t stand to watch another minute of the melee between upscale people, in this low-class low-scale motel, so I proceeded to call the police. I knew enough about human nature to understand that Steven was out of control, and out of his class. He laid his warm heart bare, and he saw the coldness of the heart of his lover.
The lies were too much. I knew there would be a stabbing or a shooting. In some societies, this is the natural course of life when men and women betray their lovers. In life, when love is involved, the natural course is like a river that flows freely destroying everything in its path.
Steven raised such hell with the screaming and shouting that the manager called the police before I had a chance to; everyo
ne visited the nearby precinct, including me. No one recognized me, but the detective questioned me, and sent me home at nine the next morning.
The police kept Steven and the results proved to be in Steven’s favor. Sam and Mr. X broke like old twigs.
It was through this discourse that the police found out that Sam and Mr. X had conspired to kill Sam’s wife, because they were going to live happily ever after. It never ends that way; they were not discovering something new. Murder for love isn’t new, it is old as time.
It took time for Steven to get over Sam and the ordeal of treachery and lies.
Steven felt for a moment that everything is a fairy tale, and he was going to live happily ever after. However, like all good fairy tales, you get a few trolls and witches, and somewhere some time you may find happiness—well maybe.
Betrayal is a tricky concept. I have betrayed Danny, and it wasn’t much different than what was happening to Steven. I had promised Danny that I would be back in L.A. but I couldn’t. I tried to destroy his happiness and now I couldn’t give him the love and happiness he deserved.
I was now in the hide and seek mode until I could figure what to do next. I plan to hide and stall Danny, then make my escape from Robert.
* * * *
Bright Lights and Big City
Steven and I decided that we needed to get out and socialize, go to a party to get over our depression. I saw faces I had seen in the movies, on television; there they were in person, singers, actors, models. A famous actor, a name that escapes me appeared to be much taller in the movies. I kept saying I didn’t know he drank so much. And I did not know she was into heroin, pills, and cocaine.
I had no contact with Danny since I had promised to return to L.A. with Sean. Danny had gone to England and should have been on his way back to L.A. I was sitting and talking to some of Steven’s friends at a trendy club for the stars, aptly named the Red Carpet. Then to my surprise, in walked Danny with a top model by the name of Page. She had to be about 21 and six feet one. She looked as if she should be dating a basketball player not my Danny. She was poised and beautiful, but young; I knew Danny did not care for women that young, or was I kidding myself, he was with her. She had a smile that hid secrets.
I didn’t recognize Danny at first. He staggered into the room clutching and spilling a drink. He did not see me, and I was glad of that until Steven made his way to speak to him, and inquire about the young woman accompanying him. That was Steven’s way of getting dirt so he would have something to gossip about in his salon. Plus, he needed something to ride me about.
Steven just couldn’t get over his relationship with Sam and all the dirty business that ensued. He was determined to be miserable and to make everyone pay.
Danny was the last person I wanted to see, because I was buying time. I had to come up with an answer for Robert and Danny. I was trying to figure out how to get my son from Robert without Danny finding out what I allowed Robert to do.
I didn’t want Danny to deal with Robert because the Texas laws are backwards. If a woman lives with a man and he introduces her as his wife then the woman is considered his common law wife. I guess I was his wife. “A rose by any other name smells the same.”
Steven pointed my way. Danny’s eyes met mine. I knew there would be another scene played out that night. It appeared that Danny and I could not talk to each other without emotions and drama. Danny walked over to me looking gorgeous and drunk.
“What are you doing here…Sydney?” he said slurring his words. “Don’t you have a baby to care for, or have you given those chores to that man you’re living with?”
“How dare you talk to me like that. Who the hell are you with?” I said angrily.
“I don’t care who you’re with,” he countered, slicing me with a double edge sword, cutting me deep. “I only care about my son. I called my maid from England, to find out if you had gone to Los Angeles with my son, and you never made it to my house.”
“You said it was our house,” I reminded him.
“That was a long time ago, a life time,” he said as if playing out everything in his head. I couldn’t tell him what I was hiding. He couldn’t take it.
“See, because of you I took a drink, and I haven’t stopped since I left England,” he whispered and swayed in my direction. He reached behind me to put his cigarette out and leaned closer to my face, closed his eyes, smelled my scent, then shook his head.
“Don’t put this on me,” I said moving away. “Danny you have to stop drinking.”
“How can I stop if I can’t be with you? I might as well drink and fuck who I can to forget you,” he said sucking on another cigarette with those lips that should be sucking on me.
“Danny don’t say that, I can’t stand it.”
“Yes you can. You left me and gave my son to another man when we had a chance to be happy and a family. Now it’s over. You’re nothing to me, but a cold-hearted bitch; nothing but a Warm Body with a Cold Heart!” He kept chanting in a whisper. “I said I will destroy you if I have to take myself down too, remember?”
Danny was well on his way to making that come true.
I tried to walk away but he grabbed my arm, and looked me in the eyes. “I’m going to take you out of here and make love to you,” he said pulling my hand and staggering to the exit.
“Don’t you get it, I don’t want you anymore Danny. You are a druggie and a drunk.”
“If I am, you made me that way, you and that bastard Robert.”
He was standing near a pretty, brown-eyed woman that could have been me five years ago. I wasn’t going to allow him to curse at me in front of everyone and especially the young drugged out bitch.
I turned around and slapped him. He looked at me and his face turned sallow and sickly. He put his head down and turned away from me. I wanted him to do something, say something. He stood there and everyone stood still to see what was coming next.
When Danny and I are together, there were always headlines. I saw paparazzi taking pictures as I landed the first blow. The slap was blistering and the sound was shattering. I knew Danny, or at least I thought I knew him. He would never touch me, but he was drinking and I suspected drugs. I had never seen him in a state like the one I was witnessing. When was this going to end with Danny and me? Every time I got a chance to end the craziness another state of lunacy takes hold of my life. Things keep going on and on with never an ending.
Danny turned and walked away into a private VIP room with his 20 something model. Steven brought me a needed drink; I composed myself; then wandered into the room to see what was happening.
The room is filled with young men and women, older men, and a few thirty something women. They were the beautiful people with money, habits, and time. Everyone sat around tables that extended from one end of the sofa to another. Smoke filled the air and music suffocated the room. The minute I entered, a young attractive man introduced himself. “Yo! I got what you need, my name is Anthony.” Sydney paused looking alarmed.
“And just what do I need?”
“You could need any number of things. Say the word and you’ve got it.”
“My name is Anthony, just Anthony.”
“What do you do here, Anthony?” I asked.
“I own the joint.”
“Really, tell me, do you know those two?” I pointed to Danny and the young woman.
“Yeah, sure, that is Danny the big star and Page, she’s a model,” he explained with a wicked turned down smile.
“She’s my woman,” he said proudly in a drunken state of euphoria.
“Really, I thought she was Danny’s woman.”
“That’s what he thinks, Page is mine.”
“Does anyone know that she’s your woman besides you?” I said humoring him.
“Everyone knows except Danny.”
Anger wore my face like a Venetian mask. I wanted to protect Danny even if he was with someone else; because I felt that it was my fault that he became involved with
the likes of Page. I couldn’t tell him; he wouldn’t believe me. He had to find out the dirty secret that was not a secret to anyone but him. I saw and heard enough, and I was ready to leave, but before I left, I was going to have a talk with Page.
I tapped her on the shoulder, “Excuse me but my name...”
“I know who you are. I recognize you from the pictures in Danny’s house and Phillip Cross’s party. You’re Sydney. I guess you know me too,” Page stated not giving a dam as she lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in my face.
“I just want you to know that I’m on to you and that boyfriend of yours.”
“Go ahead tell Danny. He won’t believe you.”
She was right. I couldn’t tell him. “I can tell you one thing, you are fucking with my man and my life,” I said, surprised at my transformation. I never stooped so low. I guess you never know what’s inside until you feel threatened—another lesson learned.
“Well I can tell you one thing, you fucked that up yourself when you left Danny,” Page stated with a grin.
I didn’t know how she found out all that information on me. I know Danny wouldn’t tell her certain things, so it had to be Max. I left the restroom with all the young women puking and snorting drugs. I left before I made the wrong statements; besides, I didn’t have Danny anymore, so I’m fighting for someone that just doesn’t belong to me.
I found Steven in a crowd of men. I let him know I was leaving and going back to Texas on the midnight flight out of Kennedy airport.
I kept asking myself how Danny could get involved in something as serious as cocaine. He was drinking and doing drugs and I would never get the chance to have my family together. Sean would never be able to grow up with his father. What have I done to myself and what was Danny to do? I had to figure something out. I have to do something to save my family.
I had over two hours to think on the plane to Houston. I have to get Robert to relinquish his hold on Sean and me, and allow Danny to see his son. I knew the answer to that.
If I couldn’t convince Robert, then I would have to take drastic measures before Danny tired of my bullshit, took things into his drugged out hands.
Obsession: Warm Bodies, Cold Hearts Page 9