Eddie: Grime Doesn't Pay (The Brothers Grime Book 2)

by Z. A. Maxfield

  Andrew came back to bed with a damp cloth, which Eddie appreciated because his legs still felt like rubber. “So early?”

  “Since when is ten early?” Eddie asked.

  “On a Sunday ten is early. Those are the rules.”

  “Ah, but see, most Sundays I get up at seven a.m., hit the gym, and go over to my family’s place. I’m the official handyman for the whole Vasquez clan. You wait. Someone’s going to call tomorrow to say they’ve got a toilet that needs replacing or somebody put a doorknob through the drywall again.”

  “Seven a.m.?” Andrew groaned. “Sunday is my day to laze around the house reading. I go to brunch with my friends at noon. You’re my new boyfriend, so I’m required to bring you along. Everyone will want to meet you.”

  Eddie smiled at that. “I’m your new boyfriend? When were you going to tell me?”

  “I’m telling you now.” Andrew tossed the towel in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ve been fantasizing you were my boyfriend since I met you last year. You didn’t catch on too quick, though.”

  “I’m an idiot.” Eddie draped his arm over his eyes. “You don’t have to remind me.”

  “What finally tipped you off? The fact that I didn’t let a conversation go by without mentioning a seminal piece of LGBT literature, or the fact that I drooled all over myself whenever you came by.”

  “I should have thrown caution to the wind a long time ago. I had tickets to Tango Argentina, and I almost asked you out then.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know. You’re a teacher, and I’m just—”

  “Don’t you dare.” Andrew knee-walked across the bed to loom over him. “I don’t know everything about you yet, but I don’t for a second believe you’re ‘just’ anything. You’ve got a successful business and a nice house. You’re good-looking, and you care about your family. By anybody’s standard, you’re a helluva catch.”

  Eddie stayed silent for a long time. Then he admitted, “I didn’t do so well in school.”

  “You seem to be doing well in life, Eddie.” Andrew pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Lots of people do wonderfully in school and then fail in life. My father has a PhD, and he’s—” Andrew broke off.

  “He’s what?”

  “He disappointed.” Andrew laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “Having an advanced college degree doesn’t magically translate into success.”

  “I guess not. But not having one is a problem too. My father was pretty disappointed I stopped after an AA.”

  “Was he?”

  “My brothers and sister all have bachelor’s degrees.”

  Andrew played with the whorls of hair around Eddie’s navel. “You could still go back if you wanted to.”

  “I could, although I don’t see the time I spend paying off, given the nature of the work I do.”

  “A business degree is always useful.”

  “My partner Gabe has an MBA.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’d like my partners. Or not.” Eddie chuckled. “I can’t decide whether I should introduce you to them. I don’t know how you’ll feel about me after they’re done telling you all my secrets.”

  “It’s like that, is it?”

  Eddie nodded. “We’ve known each other forever. They like to give me a hard time.”

  “I’m going to close my eyes for a catnap, and then I’ll be giving you a hard time too.”

  “Whatever you want, B. Andrew Daley,” Eddie said sleepily.

  “It’s just Andrew.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me what that ‘B’ stands for?”

  “It’s Boston,” Andrew said quietly. “Which happens to be my dad’s favorite band and the city where he was born. I hate it.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You don’t name your son after a city.”

  “Gringos have weird names.”

  “Right.” Andrew snorted. “Certainly no Latino parents would ever name a kid something weird.”

  “In my family we leave the weird stuff for nicknames that have nothing to do with your original name. I have cousins we call Chuy and Flaco and Fatboy. I’m Cha-Cha.” He laced his fingers with Andrew’s. “I like the name Andrew.”

  “Not Andy?”

  “Nope. Never Andy. Andy’s a cartoon cowboy.” Eddie ran the tip of his finger down Andrew’s slim, straight nose. “From now on I’m calling you BOS, like the airport.”

  “Over my dead body.” Andrew pulled Eddie’s arm over him like a blanket so they ended up spooning. “Sleep until I need you to service me again.”

  Chapter 9

  Eddie’s gaze found Andrew occasionally as they ate. His heart still wobbled from bone-deep satisfaction. He’d had some of the hottest sex of his life the night before, and that morning he’d woken with Andrew draped along his back, rubbing his skin, tracing his muscles, happily covering him, hanging on by his fingers and toes like a remora clinging to a nurse shark.

  Together they made a giant, two-headed creature of skin and bone and sweat and sticky cum. A creature of blowjobs and hours of kissing that left beard burn like a permanent blush on Andrew’s pale cheeks, after which they’d snacked on fresh fruit and yogurt and toaster waffles. Eddie had eaten from Andrew’s fork as much as he’d eaten from his own, and God, it was sweet.

  It was as if every time Eddie had moved boxes for “Mr. Daley” at school, every time he’d taken pictures of Lucy and her classmates chasing after a ball or performing a song, every outing he’d chaperoned led up to the moment when what they could have together was finally there between them. Friendship and comfort and laughter and sex—all right there if they were smart enough to scrabble for it.

  Was Andrew his boyfriend? Yep. They were boyfriends.

  Andrew said it, so it must be true.

  “Do you want to come with me to meet Graham and Matt for brunch later?”

  “I need to meet Mrs. Henderson’s lawyer at her place to give him an estimate. It could take some time. Maybe I should drop you back at your place so you’ll have your car.”

  “I don’t mind going with you.”

  “I—” Eddie hesitated.

  “Listen to me. I’m planning your whole weekend.” Andrew flushed and turned away. “It’s fine if you want to drop me off at my place, and call when you want to spend some more time together, okay?”

  “It’s not that.” Eddie cupped Andrew’s chin and turned him back around. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. I just don’t think—”

  “If you need some time alone, it’s fine.” Andrew brushed Eddie’s hair back from his forehead and pressed a kiss there. He didn’t seem angry. If anything, he was gracious. “I’m not going to pull up to your house next week with all my shit in a moving van. It’s okay if you want to hit the brakes a little. You know where to find me. We’ve got time.”

  “It’s not that. I’d like to have second breakfast with you and your Hobbit friends. I just don’t want you to see what I do for a living. Not up close, anyway, before I explain it.”

  “Because you clean houses or something?” Andrew asked. “Do you think I’m going to act like some kind of a snob because you work for a living?”

  “Of course not. At least, I’m pretty sure—” Eddie stopped and took both Andrew’s hands in his. “At Brothers Grime we face some pretty tough things. We go where there’s a biohazard. We clean trauma scenes and traffic accidents and places where people have died and gone undiscovered for a while.”

  “Trauma scenes?” Andrew said with surprise. “I’ve seen that on television.”

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I didn’t really think it was good date conversation.”

  “That’s what Lucy meant when she said you cleaned dead people. At first I thought she meant you worked in the death-care industry, but when you said you owned an industrial-cleaning business, I thought—”

  “Lucy said I clean dead people?” Eddie cleared his throat. “Mostly the dead people are gone when we arrive
. The coroner takes away the…the decedent…and we clean the scene where they died.”

  Andrew stared at him wide-eyed for longer than Eddie liked, then broke into a smile. “That is awesome.”

  “It’s—” Eddie paused. “It is?”

  “You do something hardly anyone talks about.”

  “I guess I do.”

  “I want to see what it’s like. Can I go to Mrs. Henderson’s with you?”

  “It’s not a circus. Someone died.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” Andrew’s expression tightened. “Like I’d go to gawk or…”

  Eddie gave him the benefit of the doubt. I hope you didn’t. “You remember the odor, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Henderson’s body was in their home for a while, decomposing. Gasses form and get released. It takes no time for flies to get involved. It’s not going to be pleasant in there.”

  “I’m serious.” Andrew glanced at their hands. “I want to see, even though it scares me a little.”

  “It scares you?” Eddie asked. “My job scares you?”

  “Death scares me. Illness. Whatever. I was young when my mother passed away, and I probably formed some pretty weird ideas about dead people.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s because she died at home, but they kept me away from her at the end. Either she didn’t want me to see her so sick, or my dad was worried I’d have nightmares. He kept saying it was for my own good. I can’t help but feel if she’d let me look at her, let me see what was really happening to her, it wouldn’t have scared me nearly as much as what I imagined did. I guess I pictured she must be some decaying zombie, or—”

  “A child’s imagination can be a powerful thing.”

  “I had nightmares for years anyway. The worst featured a giant bird that came every night to tear my mother’s stomach apart and eat her vital organs. I don’t know where that one came from.”

  “Maybe from Prometheus?”

  “Oh my God. You’re right. Wow. Probably. I loved reading mythology when I was a kid. That probably explains a lot of my nightmares.”

  “It might,” Eddie agreed. From what little he’d read of mythology, he gathered it was scary stuff.

  “Speaking of which, I haven’t seen a single bookcase in your house,” Andrew complained. “How can I get inside your head if I can’t snoop through your bookshelves?”

  “I have a tablet. What’s not on there is on my backup hard drive. You can look through those anytime you like. Well, next time, because we have to get ready to go.”

  “You’re such a tease. No fair.” Andrew laughed. “God. Prometheus. How did I never put two and two together?”

  “Do you really want to go with me this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “The Henderson place might be okay. Maybe you can handle it, and maybe you can’t, but I can guarantee you’ll be happier if you get in on the shallow end of the pool. Mr. Henderson’s death was from natural causes, so this is it.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Andrew set his jaw resolutely. “Unless you think I’ll be a hindrance to you.”

  “It’s fine with me, but I could go in there and make my notes while you wait outside. You could save yourself the experience entirely. This isn’t quien es mas macho.”

  “I’m not doing this to be macho, and I’m not idly curious.” Andrew squeezed Eddie’s fingers. “In our society, everything about death is sanitized for your protection, but knowledge is power, and I want to know. You can understand that, right?”

  “I can.” Eddie understood, and he sympathized. He still wasn’t so sure it was the best thing to tear the veil off all life’s mysteries—death being the big one. “This kind of work changes people. I’ve built up a tolerance, maybe.”

  “It doesn’t seem to have changed how you treat people. It hasn’t made you unfeeling.”

  “No, it hasn’t.” Truth was, it probably made him more sentimental in certain areas of his life. But he’d always been good at compartmentalizing. That was how he kept the violence of being a bouncer and the pump-and-dump mentality of sleazy nightclubs and bars that sold sex in the form of strippers from affecting his family life. Compared to that, cleaning up after death was a public service. “All right. Come on.”

  Chapter 10

  Andrew got out of Eddie’s car and faced the house. There was a sedan parked in the driveway with an older man standing beside it. Andrew figured he must be the Hendersons’ lawyer—the family friend—Bill Laurence.

  Eddie went to the trunk for something and returned holding a mask and gloves. “Put these on. If the smell gets to you, I have some eucalyptus rub.”

  “It’s cool.” Andrew slipped the mask over his head but left it dangling around his neck while they walked up the driveway. He already had goose bumps all over his skin.

  Eddie put on his gloves as he approached the lawyer. Bill Laurence greeted Eddie warmly. Andrew watched, aware they shared a personal grief. For Mr. Laurence, who’d lost his best friend, it was only natural. Andrew wondered about Eddie though—wondered how any man could have such reverence for a teacher he’d had twenty years ago.

  Eddie didn’t seem to have any trouble separating his emotions from his reason for being there. He put a comforting hand on Bill’s shoulder. “This is my friend, Andrew. He’s the teacher I told you about, the one who found Mrs. Henderson and phoned the police.”

  “Hello.” Bill shook Andrew’s hand. “Thank you for helping out with Dot.”

  They exchanged sad smiles. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” Bill looked a little shocky, like his friend’s death was hitting him pretty hard. “I have the keys. I admit I’m rather apprehensive about all this. I can’t imagine…”

  Eddie said, “You don’t have to go inside with us.”

  “No. I should go. It’s my responsibility. I need to assume my role as Phil’s executor right away if I’m to see to it Dorothy gets the care she needs.”

  “Here.” Eddie handed Bill a mask and gloves. “You’ll need these.”

  “All right.” Bill slipped one of his gloves on, donned his mask, and keyed the front door lock. As soon as he opened the door to the small house, the stench of death reached them.

  “Oh my God.” Bill raised his arm to his face.

  Andrew reflexively adjusted his mask over the bridge of his nose. Bill gagged.

  Andrew watched without comment as Eddie ushered Bill away. Once they’d gone a few feet, he patted Bill’s back while the man leaned over, gasping for breath. Eddie’s compassion confirmed what Andrew had always known. Eddie was one of the good guys, all the way to his bones.

  Andrew’s heart tightened around the word boyfriend and snuggled in with the idea, getting used to the feel of it.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” the lawyer said miserably.

  Eddie said, “Wait in your car, Bill. I can take things from here.”

  “You can handle that…that horrific smell?”

  Eddie nodded. “I can. I’ll make notes while I’m in there, and come back out and talk to you, okay?”

  “God.” Bill waved Eddie away before heading to his car. “I just need a minute.”

  “Sure. I’m going to go see what we’re up against. Things will be fine. I promise you.”

  Eddie returned to Andrew. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Andrew let Eddie lead the way.

  The place was a single-story home, a little on the small side, a little cluttered. That it belonged to a teacher was obvious: every shelf, every table was covered with apple-themed tchotchkes, picture frames, figurines, even clumsy clay ashtrays. No doubt they were gifts she’d received over the years. Given the décor—burgundy and hunter green—the place felt like a time capsule.

  Andrew heard a low hum. He turned to see Eddie heading down the hall. “What’s that noise?”

  Eddie put his hand up to stop him. “Wait here.”

  Andrew waited. In
some indefinable way, he was getting used to the odor. It wasn’t that he couldn’t still smell it. It wasn’t that it was any less wretched. It was simply that as he made himself focus on Eddie’s strong back—on doing what Eddie told him to do—he stopped thinking about it.

  The only problem was Eddie wanted him to wait where he was, and he felt the irresistible urge to move forward. To face what was behind the door.

  Andrew needed to find out what Eddie saw when he opened it.

  His feet carried him forward before his brain registered what he was doing. He found Eddie in a bedroom full of flies. They were everywhere in massive clouds over the bed. Maggots writhed, stark against horribly stained, salmon-colored bed linens.

  Andrew saw everything, but he couldn’t process it. Eddie glanced toward him, his face unhappy and pale behind his mask. Andrew made a helpless noise before all the color faded from his field of vision. He turned, overcorrected, and started to fall.

  Eddie caught him and ushered him out. “Didn’t I say wait?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Eddie countered.

  “If I had, my imagination would have gone into overdrive forever,” Andrew told him. “Have you never heard the saying, ‘’Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil’?”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means everyone has to grow up sometime.” Andrew gnawed his lower lip anxiously. “This moment seems to call for Lady Macbeth.”

  Eddie’s gaze softened. “What the moment calls for is some common sense. You almost fainted.”

  “I tripped. I told you, I’m clumsy.”

  “Go out front with Bill and get a breath of fresh air. I’ll finish up here. I just need to make some notes.”

  Andrew nodded. He’d seen what he came to see. Eddie turned away, but Andrew stopped him. “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “Nature just erases us, doesn’t it?” He waved back at the bedroom. “How can all that happen so fast?”