Teddy's Truth

by KD Ellis

  “I’ll get the peroxide.” Teddy knew better than to ask what had happened. He was used to this. Sometimes it happened every day, sometimes they could go a month or two, but it always happened. Shiloh showed up, bruised and vacant-eyed. The only thing asking questions did was make Shiloh stammer a lie and disappear again.

  He hurried into the bathroom and grabbed his first-aid box. At least this time, it didn’t look like Shiloh would need stitches. Teddy hesitated in the bathroom doorway, staring out at his friend. Shiloh was huddled on the corner of the couch, his heels digging into the edge. He looked blankly toward the window. Teddy pulled his phone out to discreetly snap a picture before returning to the living room.

  He dropped onto the couch beside Shiloh. “Let me see?”

  Shiloh swiped his hair back from his face, his eyes averted. “The floor in the pool house was wet. I slipped.”

  “Okay,” Teddy acknowledged the lie. “Close your eyes.”

  Shiloh obeyed, flinching when Teddy carefully lifted a cotton round soaked in peroxide to a shallow cut on his forehead, centered in a dark bruise. “Sorry,” Teddy murmured.

  Teddy cleaned up the bloody cuts as quickly as he could, not wanting to prolong Shiloh’s discomfort, then returned the first-aid kit to the bathroom cabinet. He detoured into his bedroom on the way back to grab his faded, worn comforter from the mattress on the floor. He carried it back out and draped it around Shiloh’s shoulders.

  “Hungry?” Teddy asked, infusing his voice with as much fake cheer as he could.

  Shiloh shrugged, picking at the threads of the blanket. Shiloh bit his lip, which was for once naked of gloss, then said in a small voice, “Will you sit with me?”

  Teddy abandoned his plan to feed him and hurried back to the couch. He sat near the armrest and, a second later, Shiloh folded into him, collapsing against his chest like a marionette with cut strings. He was shaking.

  They sat in silence. Teddy didn’t know what to say. After years, he still hadn’t found the right words to make Shiloh trust him enough.

  This time, though, Shiloh spoke on his own. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”

  Teddy tightened his grip around Shiloh’s shoulders. Shiloh could say ‘don’t worry’ all he wanted, but of course Teddy worried. “A plan?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Shiloh gave a small nod.

  Teddy thought of the other plans he knew of—like the plan Shiloh had made to move in with Teddy right after they’d graduated high school. Shiloh had crashed on Teddy’s couch for almost two weeks, until his father and a lawyer had showed up, threatening to cut Shiloh off from his trust fund if he didn’t move back home. Then after that was Shiloh’s plan to transfer to the California Institute of the Arts. Teddy wasn’t sure what had gone wrong with that one. He just knew that Shiloh was only in Los Angeles for three weeks before his father had dragged him back.

  Teddy wished there was something he could do. Instead, he stayed on the couch, Shiloh in his lap, and sighed. “I’ll tell Victor you’re off for a few days.”

  Shiloh nodded, but a few seconds later he jerked up, glaring at Teddy like he was offended. “Didn’t you have a date tonight?”

  Teddy shrugged. “Wasn’t going anyway.” It was a blind date, set up through AJ, one of the dancers at Nik’s, the club Teddy bartended at during the evenings. Teddy didn’t have high expectations. He’d been accepted mostly because Johnny—the bar manager and Teddy’s asshole ex—had been standing there smirking.

  Shiloh stood. “Come on. Get up.”

  “I’m not going.” Teddy rolled his eyes and collapsed back against the armrest. “I was going to text AJ and ask him to cancel.”

  “Nope. You haven’t had a good dicking since Johnny. That was, what…six months ago?” Shiloh was clearly trying to pretend everything was back to normal. Teddy wondered if it was healthy to let him but decided against arguing.

  “Ten,” Teddy admitted. And honestly, he wasn’t sure he could count Johnny as a ‘good dicking’.

  Shiloh shuddered visibly, like the thought of going so long was torture. “It’s with AJ’s cousin? The lawyer?”

  Teddy frowned. “I think he’s a paralegal.”

  Shiloh waved it off. “Same difference. He’ll have his own place to go back to then.”

  “I’m not going back to his house. It’s a first date. We haven’t even met yet,” Teddy protested, his cheeks heating.

  “That’s the best kind of sex.” Shiloh shoved at Teddy’s shoulder. “Come on. Do you honestly want to date a paralegal?”

  “He could be nice…” Teddy said, trying to sound hopeful.

  “He could be boring.” Shiloh rolled his eyes. “Better to find out on the first date, right? Now get up. I’ll do your makeup.”

  “I’d rather stay here. We can watch a movie.”

  “We’ve seen Glitter Nation three times already. Go on your date, get laid and give me all the details in the morning.” Shiloh pursed his lips then grinned. “Or afternoon, if you decide you want some hot, sweaty morning sex for breakfast.”

  * * * *

  Teddy did not decide to have hot, sweaty morning sex for breakfast, nor did he decide to get laid. He barely made it to the end of dinner without bashing his head in with a wine bottle.

  The expensive red wine was about the only part of dinner he didn’t hate. It had been obvious from the second Teddy walked in that AJ had not told his cousin several key details about him—the first being that Teddy was equally as likely to wear heels as he was combat boots… The second, that Teddy didn’t give a fuck what anyone said about it.

  Jeremiah didn’t comment, but he didn’t need to. The disapproval was clear in his eyes, in the tenseness of his jaw and the way he flushed with embarrassment when the waitress complimented Teddy’s pumps.

  Jeremiah was exactly what Teddy had expected from a paralegal. He wore a nice suit, not quite off the rack but not bespoke either, which highlighted a slender frame gained through calorie counting, not crunches. His blond hair was perfectly coiffed, and a pair of thin-frame glasses perched on a straight nose—a straight nose that seemed stuck far too high in the air.

  Teddy kept his mouth shut, except to reply politely to Jeremiah’s awkward attempt at dinner conversation—mostly about the case he was working on, which was supposedly going to be his big break in the legal field—until dessert arrived. Teddy ordered something he rarely got to eat, an ice-cream-topped slice of devil’s food cake.

  Jeremiah’s spoon hesitated over his own bowl of plain vanilla ice cream. “You’re going to eat all that?”

  Teddy’s spoon was halfway to his lips. He lifted an eyebrow, glancing between the heaping mouthful of cake and Jeremiah. “You got a problem with that?”

  Jeremiah flushed. “No, just…calories.”

  Teddy laughed and shoved the mouthful into his mouth, savoring the rich chocolate flavor dancing on his tongue. He swallowed before saying, “Not worried.” He’d always had a good metabolism. Besides, he ate so little throughout the week that one indulgence wasn’t going to tip the scale.

  Jeremiah grimaced then tried to hide it in his wine glass. He placed it back on the table with a clink, an uncomfortable smile on his face. Teddy glanced down at his nearly gone dessert and held back a sigh. He wanted their time together to be over, but he also wanted more dessert. Something told him it would be rude to order one to go. He scraped the last drizzling of chocolate sauce out of the bowl, then licked the spoon clean while Jeremiah flagged down a waiter and took care of the check.

  “Ready to get out of here?” Jeremiah asked, dropping his napkin in a crumpled heap on the table after dabbing his mouth.

  “Sure.” Teddy was ready. So beyond ready. He now knew way more than he ever wanted to about legal briefings and proceedings. He stood and followed his date out of the restaurant. The night was hot, but it was a mild heat, the kind that warmed his skin without overwhelming him in humidity.

  He stood awkwardly beside the fancy black Lexus Jeremiah had
picked him up in. “Thank you for dinner.”

  Jeremiah smiled politely. “I had a pleasant time.” Liar, but it wasn’t like Teddy could blame him since he was going to lie too.

  “Me too. Maybe we can do it again…sometime…” Please don’t take me up on it. Please don’t take me up on it…

  “Maybe,” Jeremiah replied noncommittally. “So”—his date shifted his weight, hand on the driver’s door, clearly uncomfortable—“do you need a ride home?”

  Well, it wasn’t exactly like he lived within walking distance, since Jeremiah had dragged him halfway across town to eat at a pretentious restaurant with portion sizes fit for a toddler, but Jeremiah’s tone of voice made it obvious that he was hoping Teddy would say no.

  “Nah, I think I’m going to hit Nik’s, say hi to AJ.”

  Jeremiah looked relieved. “Good, that’s good. Cool. Tell him I said hey.”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, have a good night…” Jeremiah climbed into the car and drove off before Teddy could answer, leaving him stranded on the sidewalk in a pair of shoes not fit to walk home in.

  “Asshole,” Teddy mumbled and pulled out his phone.

  Shiloh answered on the second read. “Teddy, dude, there’s like…a giant cauliflower man in your living room.”

  “A giant…cauliflower man?” Teddy was confused for a second until he realized what day it was, then felt himself go pale. “Shit.” It was the second week of August, which meant he was a week behind on his payment. Again. He cringed at the memory of the last time. He still had a scar on his wrist from where they’d forced it over the stove in threat.

  Shiloh’s voice got quiet and slightly tinny, like he was speaking away from the phone. “Well, I’m so sorry if I hurt your feelings, Mr. Cauliflower, but if you don’t like what you hear, then maybe don’t eavesdrop on private conversations, hmm-m?”

  Teddy grimaced and hurried across the street, angling toward the bus stop. The last thing he needed was for Shiloh to irritate Hugo. He didn’t think the man took well to insults…and he wasn’t willing to find out for sure. “Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m getting on the bus right now. And, Shiloh…please, please, don’t irritate him.”

  “Me…irritate him? I’m fabulous, darling.”

  Teddy slid onto the bus just before the doors squeaked closed and dropped a few bills into the slot. He slumped onto the cracked leather seat. “Please, Shiloh. Just…get him a glass of water or something and go into my bedroom. Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Shiloh was silent for a second. It sounded like he was walking, and his voice was lower, more serious, when he finally came back on the line, “Teddy, who is he? Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  Teddy could lie, but even the thought made him feel like shit. He absently swiped a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry about it. I’m getting it figured out.”

  “Teddy…” Shiloh sounded concerned. Teddy knew that Shiloh had enough to worry about without him burdening him with his problems as well.

  “I’m almost home,” Teddy promised. “Please, please be nice.”

  “Bitch, I’m always nice.” Teddy didn’t need to see him to know that Shiloh was pouting. There was a brief moment of dead air, then Shiloh hummed in his ear. “If you ignore the ears, he’s not so bad looking…”

  “Do not flirt with him,” Teddy snapped harshly. “Just…please go into the bedroom. He shouldn’t bother you if you don’t mess with him. Please, Shiloh.” His mind conjured up one worst-case scenario after another, from Shiloh flirting with Hugo and ending up on the wrong end of his fist, to him ending up under the large, violent man in Teddy’s bed.

  “You’d tell me if you needed help, right?” Shiloh asked seriously.

  “Of course.” Teddy winced at the lie. The only way Shiloh could help him was by paying off Teddy’s debt, and Teddy refused to take a cent. It had been his mistake, and he was going to pay for it.

  He was grateful to find the living room barren of anyone but Hugo when he finally got home. He heard the shower running in the bathroom and assumed Shiloh had retreated there, following the lure of moderately warm water that only occasionally spat cold.

  Hugo dwarfed the cushions of his ratty couch, where he sat with one leg propped on the other, tapping on the keyboard of his phone. He glared at Teddy when he burst through the door.

  “You think I ain’t got other places to be, boy?” Hugo growled, shoving his phone into the pocket of his jeans before standing. Teddy cowered on instinct, not liking the way the word boy sounded on Hugo’s lips. It was a word he longed to hear as an endearment, not a curse.

  “Sorry. I didn’t… I…” Teddy sucked in a breath and forced his spine straight, feigning courage he didn’t feel. “You didn’t tell me you were coming or I’d have been here.”

  “Who’s the other one?” Hugo didn’t bother pointing out that he wasn’t obligated to tell Teddy anything—that Teddy should have expected his visit, since he hadn’t made his regular drop time.

  “Not your business,” Teddy replied sharply, ignoring the kernel of fear that grew vines in his stomach. “Leave him out of it.”

  The look Hugo shot him was searching, eyebrows tugged low to shadow his dark eyes. “Watch your tone, kid. You’re late.”

  Teddy ran his finger in circles over his jeans—the nicest pair he owned, a black pair that clung to his curves just right and only had one hole, near the pocket. He could make the payment, but only if he didn’t pay his rent. If it came down to an eviction or a lesson learned at the end of Hugo’s fist, though… Teddy sank his teeth into his lip and dropped to his knees in front of the couch, tugging a small wad of bills from a tear in the underside of the left cushion.

  Hugo took the stack and thumbed through it. “You’re short, kid.” He sounded almost sad, which didn’t make sense to Teddy. Hugo had never seemed to care much for Teddy, so why he cared if he was short was a mystery.

  “No, it’s there, I promise. A thousand dollars.” Teddy stumbled over his words, tongue tripping.

  “Boss added a late fee. Ten percent,” Hugo said, and damn it if his voice didn’t sound gentle enough at the explanation to make Teddy tear up.

  “I… That’s a hundred dollars. I don’t have that. That’s all I have,” He nodded to the bills already clasped in Hugo’s hand. “I don’t get paid again until Friday.”

  Hugo shifted his weight, and it reminded Teddy of a boulder rocking precariously at the edge of a cliff, threatening to fall, to crush anyone standing beneath him—like Teddy. “Friday, you say?”

  Teddy nodded quickly, hope flaring. “Friday, I promise. I can have it on Friday.”

  Hugo stepped closer, his shadow falling over Teddy and leaving him chilled. His large hand gripped Teddy’s hair, tugging nearly to the point of pain but not past. “I’ll be back on Friday for the money. Make sure you have it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Friday night, after dropping off the extra hundred dollars to Hugo at the gym that fronted for the cartel—money he’d earmarked for bills—Teddy headed to his third job of the day. Nik’s was a cross between a grunge bar and a nightclub, somehow managing to stay open despite not being successful as either.

  There, Teddy tugged at the hem of the too-small, shiny-blue shorts, trying to adjust his packer without making it obvious. He didn’t like wearing it. He was happy with his small but functional dick, but the packer got him better tips and fewer looks. Well, more looks but fewer looks. He was four years post-op and finally felt comfortable in his skin, most of the time. Wearing the packer felt like going backward.

  Shiloh bounded off his platform, dancing over to the bar where Teddy was mixing drinks. He leaned against the faded wood. “Teddy Bear, I need something to wet my mouth.”

  A sleazy man—okay, Teddy admitted, he probably wasn’t sleazy, but in Teddy’s mind all the men who drank at Nik’s were sleazy by default—looked Shiloh over with heated eyes. “I’ve got something you can w
et your mouth with.”

  Shiloh pursed his glossy lips as he looked the man over, “Sorry, babe. I’m working.”

  “All night?”

  Shiloh shrugged. “Maybe.”

  The man turned to Teddy and slid a twenty across the table. “Whatever he wants. Keep the change.”

  Teddy rolled his eyes as Shiloh gave the man a once-over again. “The odds of me getting out early just shifted in your favor. Meet me by the door at one, baby. I’ll give you the ride of your life.” Shiloh winked at Teddy when the man groaned and shifted on his stool.

  Teddy flipped his friend off, covering it up by sliding him over a Coke. Shiloh couldn’t drink on the clock, even if he was just dancing. Shiloh, however, pursed his lips and leaned over the bar, snagging a bottle of rum. Several men behind Shiloh stopped moving past to watch, dropping their gazes to the thinly concealed globes under Shiloh’s lace panties, clearly on display. Shiloh added a shot or rum into his glass then waved his fingers at someone behind Teddy.

  Teddy glanced over his shoulder to see Victor, the owner—or the owner for a few more days, at least, until the business changed hands—watching Shiloh with a leer. Victor was nearly twice their age—and half again their size—and had an unhealthy obsession with the dancers, which Shiloh took advantage of often.

  “Dick,” Teddy said under his breath, just loud enough for Shiloh to hear.

  Shiloh chuckled evilly and grabbed at his crotch, stretching the lace over the dick in question. “This dick?”

  Teddy rolled his eyes and went to answer, but Victor spoke before he could. “Joey called in, so you’re on the platforms in ten.”

  Teddy scrunched his eyes closed and hoped that Victor was talking to someone else. He hated the platforms. But Victor’s voice grew sharp when he didn’t answer. “Teddy, are you listening?”

  “Yes, sir,” Teddy spat the words out and pulled the rag out of his apron strings, tossing it onto the bar for the other bartender to deal with, then stripped off the apron. Victor had strict rules about his dancers…mainly that they wore makeup and skimpy underwear, and nothing else.