Oh no. He wasn’t supposed to cause any trouble, so he definitely couldn’t sock Eddie in the nose—even though he wanted to. But he only had sixty-five cents left. Since he didn’t smoke, he’d never paid attention to how much they cost.
“But…” Francesco worried his lower lip with his teeth while he tried to come up with a plausible reason why he couldn’t buy them. He didn’t need Eddie getting sore at him. “Well, after paying for the room, I barely got a few cents left and I need to eat tomorrow.”
It wasn’t a lie. A ‘few’ wasn’t a definite number. He felt it was open to interpretation.
“I don’t give a hang about that or your aunt Minnie’s hairy fat ass. I need me some smokes. Now.” Eddie said the last part with a snarl.
“Oh, uh, so how much do they cost?” Maybe he could negotiate.
“I don’t smoke none of those cheapie sticks like Mills. I need Camels. Fifteen cents a pack.”
Francesco considered it. That would still leave him fifty cents. If he ate one cheese sandwich or ham roll a day, plus a cup of joe, that would still leave him a nickel for a bar of Ivory. Then he and Eddie could be friends, no trouble with the flophouse manager and everything would be okay.
“All right. That sound likes it’d be okay.” Francesco punctuated his agreement with a smile.
“That’s for tonight. We can talk again tomorrow after I see how many I got left.”
Francesco sat up. “What? I thought you meant one pack. One pack for fifteen cents and that would be my gesture.” He didn’t know if he was supposed to perform a fancy gesture when he handed them over to Eddie, but he figured he could cross that bridge once he got to it.
“Listen kid, I spotted you running a con on that chump in the park today. I know you got plenty a dough out of a swell like that. I saw him hand you a bill, and I’m sure it weren’t no one dollar. Not when you said you already paid to stay in this filthy joint for a week.” Eddie grunted. “Ain’t no way you can’t afford to get me my cigs, so don’t you try to flimflam me.”
“I swear I don’t have that much money left.” Francesco crossed his heart with one finger. He never said ‘hope to die’, never even thought it. His mama had warned him that saying such a thing was taunting the devil and he could be struck dead in an instant—if the dark angel had a mind to. It was better not to take a chance.
“Horse puckey.” He jerked his chin in Francesco’s direction. “Show me what you got.”
Francesco gasped. “No! That’s private.”
Eddie jumped to his feet and Francesco shot to the end of the bed, leaping off the top and landing with a thud. Eddie lunged toward him and he shot between his legs, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to get through the door. Francesco was yanked back by one suspender. It couldn’t withstand the harsh pull, snapping loose in the fray.
“Fuck!”
Francesco whirled around to find Eddie with both hands covering one eye, grimacing in obvious pain. Francesco’s broken suspender had obviously whacked him in the face. He took it as a lucky break and ran to grab his precious new shirt before high-tailing it out of there.
After he’d snatched up the button-down chambray from the bed, he was thrown against the edge of the top bunk, his forehead banging against it in the process. Francesco cried out in pain. Eddie had grabbed hold of his hair and, while still clutching the shirt to his chest, Francesco punched and shook their poor unsuspecting fellow roomie. He figured if the older man got involved, it might be enough of a distraction so he could get away. Either that, or I’ll have two fellas pounding on me.
“What in the Sam Hill is going on here?”
Their bunkmate flailed wildly then fell off the bed, crashing into him and Eddie as they tussled, which caused all of them to land in a heap. Francesco squirmed his way loose while Eddie and the other roomie cussed and smacked each other. Francesco let out an oomph as he was kicked in the ribs while wriggling free of the tangled bodies. He had no idea who the culprit had been, but he had bigger worries. He needed to get free then hide somewhere in the flophouse until it all blew over. If he was super lucky, the manager would find Eddie and their roomie fighting, throw them out, then he’d be in the clear.
Francesco had just reached the door when it flew open and he stumbled backward until he’d toppled over his two roomies again, who were still wrestling. Eddie seemed oblivious to the fact that someone else had barged into the room who was screaming at the top of their lungs for them all to shut up. Eddie had one fist balled in the fabric of his tank and the other reared back to sock him in the face. He whipped his head to the side, screwing his eyes shut against the inevitable onslaught.
“Hey!”
Francesco chanced a peek with one eye the moment Eddie’s weight no longer held him down. He propped himself up on his elbows to try and figure out what was going on and why he didn’t have a busted nose or a shiner. The horrible truth was revealed once he saw who held a beet-faced Eddie by the collar. The flophouse manager. His stomach fell. His hopes of hiding until the ruckus was over and not being blamed in the process had been cruelly dashed.
“I said no troublemakers!”
The manager’s own face was rather scarlet and his breaths came in fast pants. Francesco didn’t imagine he was too pleased about having to race up the stairs so he could investigate what the fracas was all about.
“It was that little pansy’s fault!” Eddie pointed at him, his face screwed up in anger, and Francesco now realized, with a line of blood trailing from his nose. “He tried to grab my pecker while I was sleeping!”
The older man rose on one elbow from where he still lay, sprawled out on the floor. “Is that what happened? Why didn’t ya say so? I thought you was trying to rob me.”
Francesco’s mouth went dry as he frantically shook his head. “No, no, no. That wasn’t it at all! Eddie was after my money, so I was trying to get away from him.” Francesco’s bottom lip trembled. “I swear.” He crossed his heart again.
The manager hurled Eddie to the side then let him go, but not before Eddie banged into the bunk like Francesco had. He had the sense to keep silent, though. The manager bent way over, glaring down at Francesco as if challenging him to say one more word.
“Listen, you. I gave you a warning about causing trouble. One warning. Out!” The manager whipped his arm toward the door and pointed his finger.
“But…But…” Tears fell from Francesco’s eyes. He was so ashamed of himself for letting his emotions overtake him, but it was all so unfair.
“Do I need to call the fuzz on you? Huh?”
The manager reached down to grab the top of his undershirt, but Francesco jerked away. He didn’t want the icky old man touching him. He could steal his money and throw him out on the streets, but that didn’t give him the right to touch him.
Francesco pulled himself up by the edge of his roomie’s mattress, then stepped over the nameless older man and past the manager. He almost tripped and fell when Eddie gave him a shove. He didn’t say a thing, just kept going. Once he’d made it out in the hallway, he turned around to face everyone in the room.
“You’re all a bunch of very mean people and if being a so-called real fella involves me having to act like any of you palookas, I’d rather be a pansy any day!”
Then he stuck out his tongue and raced down the stairs then out of the flophouse as fast as he’d ever run before. He didn’t stop for a second until he’d reached the end of the street, where he spied a cluster of bushes. He dove into them, landing in the dirt then leaning against the wall of whatever building he was outside of. He hadn’t bothered to check.
His lungs burned and he could barely catch his breath. It was late, but there was still the chance that someone might notice him if they were nearby. He sat there for a few minutes as his breathing slowed, listening for any sounds of pursuit.
Why would anyone follow me?
All they’d wanted was for him to leave and they’d gotten what they wished. The manager had gotten his tw
o dollars and Eddie had gotten rid of the puff who had the nerve to want to sleep in the same room as him.
The tears returned. But this time, they wouldn’t stop. He clapped a hand over his mouth so no one could hear his sobs, but he couldn’t keep from crying, from shaking so hard he thought he might split apart. He’d had some real bad times on the streets, real bad. But this hurt so much because the awful flophouse manager had taken Theo’s two dollars and Francesco hadn’t even used the room for a whole hour. He’d never gotten to sit in the warm bath or soap up his hair. It was worse believing he had something than if he’d never had it at all.
He couldn’t stay where he was all night—he’d be found out for sure. But he needed to get hold of himself and calm down. Find a safer place for the night then start over fresh with the new day and put the night’s awful episode behind him. He would treat himself to an egg and bacon breakfast, with chocolate milk and coffee while he thought up a new plan. He still appeared reasonably put together so he could sit in a diner without getting tossed out. It would probably cost him at least twenty-five cents for all of that, but he deserved a little something nice after what had happened. Then he would have to get back to work. The remaining forty cents wouldn’t last him very long.
I could still try for San Francisco.
Francesco swiped his arm underneath his nose, then unrolled his poor shirt so he could put it back on before he started wandering the streets again. He’d have to figure out how to reattach the broken suspender the next day, too. A pin would cost less than a button, but it wouldn’t look as good. He’d really wanted to look nice in case he saw Theo again.
Theo.
Francesco sighed. He couldn’t go to San Francisco. How would he ever get to see Theo again if he left Los Angeles?
No, he would just have to do better, that was all. He would give it a try for Theo.
Chapter Three
“Good evening, Javier.”
Theo removed his hat and long silk scarf, then handed them to the manager of his friend Saul’s sadomasochism club. It was located on Hampton Road inside a magnificent mansion in the ritzy part of South Pasadena known as San Marino. Theo had come to consider it more of a home than the one where he resided. The only person he ever interacted with there was his housekeeper.
“Good evening, sir. It’s nice to see you.”
Theo smiled at the delightful man who Saul had rescued from an impoverished situation. “It’s lovely to see you too, Javier. It appears you’ve been relegated to the door again. The last greeter didn’t work out either?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. But I don’t mind taking on whatever duties Master Saul requires.”
Javier always spoke and behaved professionally. He was warm and welcoming, but he never became too familiar with the members.
“Saul, as well as all of us on the board, are fortunate to have you here.” Theo chuckled. “I imagine if the owner of Hampton Road were ever to witness how proficient you are, then he would be thankful as well.”
“You’re very kind, sir. Thank you. May I be permitted to pass along a message from one of the submissives to you?”
“Of course, Javier. No need to ask.”
“Irwin was inquiring as to whether you would be here this evening. He wished to offer his company as well as his body for you to use how you see fit.”
“Hmm, I see.” Theo pursed his lips as he drew his eyebrows together. Irwin was an enticing young man, but Theo didn’t trust him. Not that it was a necessary attribute for a bit of fun, but it sullied the experience for him if he thought too much about it while they played. “I wager that means that neither Master Vincent nor Master Gordan are here this evening?”
The corner of Javier’s mouth twitched. “That would be correct, sir.”
“I’ve always wondered where I rank among the Dominants who Irwin flaunts his attributes with. I’m beginning to suspect that I’m last in line.”
Theo winked at Javier as he chuckled. His apparent lower placement in Irwin’s mind meant nothing to him, as he’d never pined for the young man anyway. They’d enjoyed each other’s company on occasion, but Irwin’s fickle and manipulative nature was the last thing he craved in a permanent situation.
Someday.
“If you don’t mind me saying so, sir—you deserve to be first with whomever you choose for your own.”
Javier’s remark was the most personal one he’d ever heard him voice. It had come at the perfect time. “Thank you, Javier. How thoughtful of you to say.” It was an unfortunate truth that Javier wasn’t the slightest bit submissive—he wouldn’t have minded giving him a try. Theo wondered if he ever took the chance to play during his off-hours. “Well, I suppose I should face the music, as it were.”
Javier grinned. “Best of luck, sir.”
Theo gave him a dip of his chin in acknowledgement, then passed through the door that led to the interior of the club. He strode down the long hallway that opened onto a polished wood floor at the bottom of a sweeping staircase that ended in the large entryway. Members never used the main entrance. In addition, the club’s revelry was restricted to the upper floors only. It helped keep everyone safe should someone show up unannounced at the door.
Theo’s thoughts drifted back to Javier as he ascended the red carpeted stairs to the ballroom. From what Saul had shared with him, Javier had migrated alone from Mexico to escape an abusive family. He had then begun to work at an orange grove in the San Fernando Valley located over the hill from Hollywood. Javier had hoped to eventually find a job working in a hotel as a busboy or whatever an immigrant such as himself would be allowed to do, but instead, had almost been arrested after being caught with a fellow worker.
The grove owner might have overlooked that they were engaging in deviant sex had it not also included the fact that Javier’s partner was tied up and being whipped with leafy branches from the citrus trees. Both men had been driven away without their wages, but the next night when they’d been hiding in a different grove, they were discovered by another group of workers. Word had already traveled regarding the two Mexican laborers and their perverse behavior. Their fellow countrymen had been outraged by the dishonor that had been cast upon them and they’d both paid the price.
However, Javier had escaped most of the beating that took the life of his lover, and after hiding once again, he’d managed to hitch a ride with a hay truck headed to Pasadena. He’d been intent on putting a good amount of distance between himself and those who might recognize him. Saul had discovered Javier bruised and without hope after he’d been rejected for employment at the tony Raymond Hotel. At that point, Javier had been desperate. He hadn’t been deemed worthy enough of a cleaning job at the resort and was terrified to go back to working the groves—even if they were far from the ones he’d labored at before. Saul had purchased the starving Javier a meal and while conversing with him, had come to the conclusion that Javier would be perfect to work in his new club. Theo had to admit that Saul’s instincts had been spot on, and admired how he had rescued the dedicated and skilled worker.
After reaching the landing then crossing the threshold of the grand area—which boasted a bar at one side and a low stage on the far end—he glanced around to see if his friend might be mingling with the crowd, instead of in a private room with a boy or two. Theo smiled when he spotted Saul chatting with two of the newer Dominant members. He headed in that direction, but was almost immediately brought to a stop by a nude Irwin. Theo halted, wondering what Irwin might be proposing now that his favorite Masters weren’t available.
“Master Theo. I’ve been waiting all evening for you to arrive, and now my wish has come true. You’re the only man who knows how to force me to behave.”
Irwin peered up at him coyly, the smaller man the picture of innocence. Theo resisted snorting at how ludicrous Irwin’s act was.
“Good evening, Irwin. I wasn’t aware you held me in such high esteem.”
Irwin cocked his head to the side. “Oh? I don
’t know how you could have come to such a conclusion when you’re obviously the best Master here. No one can hold a candle to you, Master Theo.”
“Why, I have to confess that I’m shocked. Only last week I heard you saying in the demonstration room that Master Vincent was much better than Master Gordon and that you only put up with him, and when you ran out of other options—me—if neither of them were available.” Theo punctuated the end of his sentence by arching one eyebrow at Irwin.
Irwin’s cheeks reddened, but he quickly recovered. “I must have been drinking…or something. Perhaps you mistook me for another clearly misinformed boy? I can’t imagine ever saying such a thing about you. I mean, it’s completely absurd to believe that either of those old codgers could compare to a young, manly and motion-picture star handsome Master such as yourself?”
Theo let out an aggravated sigh. “Those ‘old codgers’ you speak of are close friends of mine and I would appreciate you not speaking ill of them. And I don’t need a willful, stuck-up boy pandering to my ego. Also, I’m not interested in partaking of your company in any form ever again, so please refrain from making any future offers.” Theo gave him a tight smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Irwin gasped but Theo ignored him, making his way to Saul instead. He was rarely snippy, nor did he raise his voice. He found it undignified and he’d certainly never endured such a thing growing up. His family home had been happy and peaceful. On the other hand, many of the submissives he’d played with over the years found his smooth, quiet manner of speaking more unsettling than if he were barking out commands in a growling tone.
“Ah, Theo. Wonderful to see you.” Saul indicated to the two men he’d been speaking with. “Have you met Barry and Otis yet? They’ve joined our little group here only this month.”
Theo nodded as he extended his hand to them both, each of them taking a moment to accept his greeting. “Yes, we were introduced the last time I was here. It’s nice to see you again. How are you enjoying your membership here so far?”
Finding Sanctuary Page 4
