by KD Ellis
The third bay stood open. Teddy found himself walking slower the closer they got. A handful of men loitered around the entrance, their red bandanas easy to spot, even from a distance. Cigarettes dangled from fingers and out of mouths. A heavyset man leaned against the siding, sipping from the neck of a naked vodka bottle, not even clothed in a brown paper bag.
They weren’t all men, Teddy realized, when he got close enough to hear the electric guitar spilling from inside, grating out the chords of some brujeria song from cheap speakers. At least two were women, baggy cargo pants drooping around their hips.
Teddy squeezed through the narrow gap between the men bracketing the edge of the bay door, angling his shoulder to avoid touching either. They snickered as he passed, wolf whistles following him into the warehouse. A shiver crawled down his spine. He wondered if he’d done the right thing by not calling anyone. But adding Ian to the picture didn’t make him feel better. Safer, yes… But knowing Ian was involved? Well, he didn’t think he’d like that.
Lucas followed him inside so closely that his breath dampened the back of Teddy’s neck. The interior of the warehouse was laid out much the same as he remembered it. To the right was a series of scratched and stained sofas. On one, a man in a tank top and heavy gold chains sprawled, his jeans unbuttoned. A skeletal woman with a white dress hitched up over her hips rode him there, in plain sight of everyone, grunts and moans spilling from her lipstick-smeared lips. On another, a burly man sat with his legs spread, a man—a boy, really, because if he was more than eighteen Teddy would be shocked—on his knees between them. Teddy tore his eyes away from the sight, heat flooding his face.
His gaze landed on the other side of the room. Eight men sat around two folding tables, one on each side, playing cards.
Teddy stiffened his spine and headed that way, spotting Julian at one. A small pile of coins sat in the center of the table. Julian laid down his hand of playing cards just as they approached. “Three of a kind,” Julian said, glaring at the other three men, who all folded immediately.
Teddy noticed that at least one had a better hand.
Julian scooped the coins over in front of him before looking up. Like the warehouse, he looked different from the last time Teddy had seen him—grittier. The nice jeans and polo had been replaced with black cargo pants and a white tank that bared his muscles and exposed several dark, blurry tattoos. He was no longer clean-shaven, and the scruff made him look older.
“Ah, pretty boy.” Julian leered at him. He waved a hand at the man to his right, gesturing for him to vacate his seat. The man stood, flicking his cigarette butt onto the cement before wandering off. “Sit down. Sit down.”
Teddy carefully lowered himself onto the folding chair, perching at the edge like he was preparing to run. “I was surprised to hear from you. I thought I had another three months…”
“Pleasantly surprised, though, right?” Julian leaned back in the chair, his knees spread.
“Yeah,” Teddy lied, forcing a grin.
Julian let his chair rock back forward, the legs slamming back into the ground with a clang. “See? Here’s the thing, amigo. I lost some money recently. This economy…am I right?” Julian laughed but it was cold, chilling Teddy to the bone. “So I need to call in your first payment early. Five thousand dollars by the end of the week.”
Teddy paled as Julian quoted the number. It was high…much higher than he expected. “That’s…that’s not what we agreed on.”
The smile slid like water off Julian’s face, leaving it hard. “Well then, I guess we’re making a new agreement, aren’t we?”
“I don’t have that,” Teddy admitted, clenching his hands on the edge of the chair. If he didn’t pay his rent or his electric bill, he might be able to scrounge up three. “I just got back to work.”
“Amigo,” The smile was back. It was as bright as a fluorescent lightbulb and twice as fake. “Maybe we can make a deal.”
Teddy bit back the comment that they already had a deal, one they’d both agreed on. Julian didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d laugh it off. Instead, he tried to soften his grip and shrugged. “Maybe.”
“See? Here’s what I think.” Julian leaned forward, arm planting on the table. “I think you’re a pretty boy.” He turned to the older man beside him. The red-headed man looked Teddy over and grunted an agreement. “See? Mikey likes you, and Mikey don’t like no one.”
Teddy heard Lucas whimper behind him before his friend spoke up, his voice shaky, “Julian, I don’t think…”
“Shut up,” Julian barked over Teddy’s shoulder, his eyes flashing. “I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to keep your mouth shut.” Julian turned back to Teddy. “Where was I? Oh, yeah. Pretty boy. Maybe you come work for me. Maybe you work your debt off on your back, yeah? Maybe you enjoy it, and maybe I make some money. Maybe everyone’s happy, yeah?”
“Umm-m. Well, lovely as that sounds, I think I’ll have to pass on that…” Teddy was so going to end up murdered. He could see it already. He should keep his mouth shut. Instead, panic spilled down his skin like gasoline. It pricked his fingers like thorns until he slapped them against his thighs, then pried his mouth open instead, loosing the words he meant to contain. “Great offer, though. Real strong first bid. How about I pay you what I have now, instead?”
Jesus Christ, who did he think he was talking to, a teller at his friendly neighborhood credit union? Julian’s hands twitched on the table, drawing Teddy’s eyes to the black revolver he’d been trying to avoid noticing. It sat heavy by a glass ashtray, inches from Julian’s wrist. Teddy shuddered, but met Julian’s eyes with as much steel as he could. The cold contemplation sent icicles into his vertebrae but he refused to bend.
He wasn’t going to let anyone pimp him out. God had given him teeth and he wasn’t afraid to use them.
The entire warehouse was quiet—or maybe Teddy’s fear was just too loud. When Julian laughed, the sound broke the silence like a clarinet reed, tension draining out of the room. “You got big cajones. I’ll give you that, amigo. I like you.”
Teddy, feigning a confidence he didn’t feel, propped his right ankle on his left knee and struggled to relax—to pretend he hadn’t pissed himself just a little. “Gracias,” he said, the word mangled by the tightness of his throat.
Julian’s smile stayed in place. “White boys, all the same. You butcher my language. Stick to English, my friend. Get me my money by the end of the month and our relationship will stay…friendly. Comprende?”
“Understood.”
* * * *
Teddy had the door to his ratty apartment closed and locked behind him before he allowed himself to slump against the warped wood He didn’t have that kind of money just…lying around. He should have known better than to get involved with Lucas’ friends. He’d known they were sketchy. But there was a difference between defacing-abandoned-buildings sketchy and selling cocaine out of trunks.
He would have to work double the hours he was working now to come up with that much, and if anything, his hours were going to get cut at one of his jobs soon. He’d heard the maintenance man at the college talking about it a few days earlier. Money was tight everywhere. He would never be able to convince them to keep him on longer.
His gaze shifted around the apartment. Three months, and he had barely started to furnish it. The one-bedroom apartment was only not a studio because of the rickety wall hastily put up across one half of what was now the living room to make the small bedroom in the back. Teddy hadn’t risked hanging so much as a picture frame on it, just in case it fell over. He had a couch that smelled strongly of ammonia and a coffee table with uneven legs, stabilized partly by a thin stack of magazines slid under one of them. The fridge and microwave had come with the apartment and both were older than he was.
There was nothing he could sell for a few extra bucks. He was going to have to pick up a third job and push college back a semester. If only he had taken out loans, rather than relying on scholars
hips. The scholarships would vanish when he couldn’t attend. The loans might have at least bought him some time. The thought caused a dull ache in his chest. He rubbed it briefly before straightening his spine. He’d start sending out applications in the morning.
Chapter Thirteen
Ian crouched in the shadow of the stairway. He’d pulled the living room blinds—and the curtains for good measure—and turned off all the lights nearly an hour before. This had seemed like a good idea then, before the leg cramp started pulling at his calf muscle, yelling at him to break position to massage it back to normal. It would be just his luck to hatch this plan the one night his brother actually stayed in for a change.
He didn’t know how else to get his brother’s attention. He’d tried talking to him like a normal person half a dozen times over the past month, but his brother was being shifty. It wasn’t just the sneaking out at all hours of the night. It was the jumping at every little sound, the bruises forming below his eyes and the fact that his normally overweight brother had dropped enough pounds that he was damn near skinny.
Ian couldn’t do anything about the fact that Teddy had been ignoring his calls or making excuses that he was just super busy. Ian was afraid he’d pushed the younger man too far, too fast at his birthday party. Beyond a few short conversations on the phone—which had left Ian concerned about Teddy’s health because, frankly, he’d sounded exhausted—they hadn’t been able to hang out again.
So while he couldn’t fix the distance growing between Teddy and him, he could fix his brother.
Maybe.
If he could just get him to stand still and talk for two minutes.
Hence his painful crouching like a crazy person beside the stairs, listening to the sounds of distant traffic and—a floorboard creaked above him. Ian’s heart thumped faster as adrenaline started coursing through his bloodstream. This was it. He was going to figure out what his brother was up to, one way or another.
He just hoped it wasn’t drugs.
Footsteps started down the stairs, slow and timid. Ian tensed, waiting for them to reach the bottom step before he leaped up and reached out to grab—his mother, who clutched her chest and let out a deafening, ear-piercing scream.
“Dios mio, are you trying to kill me?” She slapped him over the head as soon as he released her.
“Sorry, Mama. I thought you were Lucas,” Ian apologized, ducking out of the way of her palms as she slapped at him again.
“He snuck out hours ago. Stupid boy thinks his mother don’t know when he leaves. I hear him, you know, prying up his window with that rusty old screwdriver. It whines like a dog.” Mama rolled her eyes and reached out to flick on the light. “But I did not think you would take to lurking in shadows like an asesino, trying to give your poor mother a heart attack. Shame on you,” She swatted at him again but couldn’t seem to stop the smirk on her lips.
“Sorry, Mama,” Ian apologized again.
“Next time you should lurk under his window in the bushes. Maybe then you scare him enough to crawl back into bed, yeah?” Mama wandered toward the kitchen, digging around in the cupboard before pulling down a small tin of sugar. With hands used to the practice, she threw it into the blender with milk, fruit and ice. She split the licuado between two glasses and pushed one across the counter to him.
“So you are worried about your brother too, I see,” Mama said after taking a sip. She frowned, staring at the rim of her glass, looking deep in thought.
Ian spun his glass on the counter without drinking, more to give his hands something to do than anything. “He’s been acting funny for a while. I was hoping I could convince him to talk to me.”
“Lucas has too much of your father in him—stubborn like a bull and as angry as one, too. He won’t talk until he’s ready.” Mama sighed and poured the rest of her drink down the sink. “Is this really about your brother, mijo? Or is this about your young man? You should tell him to come to dinner.”
Ian’s frown deepened at the mention of Teddy. “They’ve both been acting weird. Lucas is as skittish as a colt, and Teddy…? Well, I know he started college last week, but I didn’t realize it would keep him this busy. He sounds exhausted. I just…”
“You worry. It’s in your nature. You’ve always been my little protector, always trying to fix people.” Mama reached up and patted his shoulder. “But I do not think this is something you need to fix. Sometimes you need to let people come to you on their own. Go to sleep, mijo. You can pick up your troubles in the morning.”
Ian kissed his mother on the cheek, cleaned up his glass and went back to his room, but, despite his mother’s urging, he couldn’t seem to leave his troubles behind. He couldn’t wash them away in the shower or dry them off after, couldn’t surrender them when he closed his eyes in bed. They clung to him like a leech, whispering that something was wrong.
He sighed and rolled over, punching his pillow until it caved to the form of his skull. Maybe his mother was right and he was worrying over nothing. Maybe Lucas had taken up jogging, and that was the cause of his weight loss and quick escapes out of the door whenever Ian tried to talk to him. Maybe Teddy was just overwhelmed with the newness of college, the stresses of academia at a university more than he expected.
The stone in his chest didn’t think so.
* * * *
Ian finally ran into his brother two days later. Literally, unfortunately. He was heading downstairs after having stripped apart his bedroom to find his black boots with the cascabeles. Too small for him, they would be just about right for Noa. She wanted someone to practice her dance with, and Ian had allowed himself to be roped in, riding the high of finally hearing from Teddy.
He was so distracted thinking about his date with the younger man later that evening that he didn’t even notice his brother descending the stairs in front of him. And his brother was too distracted with whatever he was thinking of to notice Ian, even with the bells jangling off his boots.
“Jesus fuck, man!” Lucas screeched, spinning with his fists ready to swing.
“Next time, open your ears, manito.” Ian reached out and messed up his brother’s curls.
“Jodete!” Lucas knocked his hand away.
Unfortunately for Lucas, Mama rounded the corner from the living room just as the curse slid from his lips. “Lucas Oliveira Sousa Romero! Apologize to your brother!”
Lucas’ shoulders pulled up, tension radiating off him like heat on blacktop. “I’m an adult, Mama. I can curse if I want to!”
“Mientras tu vivas en esta casa—” Mama started to threaten, but Lucas’ hand sliced through the air, palm flat as the blade of a dagger, cutting off her words.
“Then I’ll move out!” Lucas set his jaw, tendons in his neck popping out from the tension. “It’s not like you want me here anyway. I’m just…just a tarado. A fucking pendejo. I fuck up everyone’s life.” Rather than anger, it was sadness that crossed Lucas’ face. Ian swore he saw the shine of tears in his brother’s eyes before he turned away from them to stomp back up the stairs.
“Oh, Lucas,” Mama sighed, reaching for him, but Lucas twisted out of reach.
“Leave me alone!” Lucas said bitterly. His voice was like gravel in the blades of a lawn mower—ready to damage either itself or the person standing closest. A part of Ian told him to follow his brother to his room, to dig into the root of his unreasonable anger, but a larger part of him told him to duck for cover. It was probably best to let the kid calm down. Besides, Lucas had been avoiding him for weeks. It would serve him right to wait on Ian now.
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Ian murmured to Mama, plastering on a smile he hoped was reassuring.
Mama frowned, eyes skimming over Ian. “Going somewhere?”
Ian was in his best jeans, artistically distressed across the thighs. He’d paired it with his nicest shirt, a coral button-down that looked great against his skin. “I’m helping Noa with her dance,” Ian said. His gaze drifted from Mama’s. He was not quite will
ing to lie, even by omission, while staring her in the eyes. Mama didn’t need to know he was going to take Teddy to a matinee. He didn’t know why he wanted it to be a secret, except that he felt like speaking it out loud would jinx it.
“Mm-hmm.”
up her lips Mama’s pursed lips and dry hum made it clear that she suspected that Ian was not being wholly truthful anyway. “Well, mijo, after you are finished helping your sister, don’t forget to tell Teddy to stop in for dinner soon, hmm?”
“I didn’t say—” Ian protested, his face heating.
“You didn’t have to.” Mama curved. “I see things, you know? You think I don’t see the way you look at that boy and how he looks at you? You think I don’t see you skulking around the hydrangea bushes instead of mingling? Maybe I should plan weddings instead of birthday parties.”
“Mama!” Ian’s skin was going to melt if he got any hotter.
“What? You think I don’t know what it’s like to be young? Your father and I first made love in the back seat of a—”
“Mama!” Ian clapped his hands over his ears.
“What? Did you think you were adopted?” Mama’s smirk developed into a full-fledged to a grin. “You were conceived in a Winnebago ten miles south of the American border, and your brother on a loveseat in the backroom of a—”
“You’ve never had a Winnebago, Mama.” Ian cringed.
“I didn’t say it was ours. You remember Papa’s friend, the one who sponsored him for his visa?” Mama chuckled when Ian started humming to block out the words. Of course he remembered Papa’s friend Jack, the American who’d sponsored the pair for their green cards. He was hard to forget, an older man with Irish roots, hair dark and kinky and— Oh God, he couldn’t think that word now, not after hearing of his mother’s exploits in the back of old Jack’s rusty house on wheels. Last he knew, the man was trundling through the so-called wilds of South Dakota now that he’d retired.