by Rick R. Reed
“Domenic?”
“Sì.”
“Why?”
“Because he does not approve of my life. Or lifestyle, as they say over here.”
“You mean he has a problem with you being gay?”
Sam nodded. “Uh-huh. See, Domenic was just a little boy when his mama and I split up. There was another man, but even if there wasn’t, we would have split up because I wasn’t being honest with myself. You know? But in my country and in my culture, with the Catholic stuff and all that, you don’t easily, how do you say it, come out? It was hard for me to finally admit to myself who I was. And then when Davio came along, it changed everything and gave me the courage to end my marriage.”
Thad felt an entirely irrational flash of jealousy surge through him at the mention of another man.
“Davio and I did not work out. He was a silly queen. But he did give me the strength to live my life the way I knew I had to.”
“And Domenic?”
“Domenic loves his papa. He did not want to blame me. So he looked at my being gay as something hateful, something outside of me instead of being part of me. That way he could hate something without hating his papa.” Sam rubbed his hands over his face, petting his beard. He looked full of thought. “I wish you spoke Italian. This would be so much easier to tell you.”
Thad felt a sense of relief. And the language was not a problem. He understood. Now it made so much more sense, especially the hastily convened trip to New York, probably to talk about how to solve the problem that was Domenic. Early on, Sam didn’t want to see Thad, and it was most likely because he was afraid of what Domenic would think. It was probably difficult for the poor man to be trapped between two grown men, both of whom he loved.
So Sam had sent Domenic back to Sicily. Maybe it was just easier all around. Maybe Domenic wanted to go. Maybe the idea of living here in the States and watching his father with a boyfriend was intolerable.
Of course they weren’t killers. Of course they weren’t werewolves. Even if one was running around Seattle on full moon nights, it wasn’t Sam or part of his family. Thad felt a laugh, borne of relief, bubble up and spring from between his lips. “I am so sorry about your trouble with Domenic.”
“It’s hard. But he will eventually come around.”
Just then he heard shouting in the kitchen and the clatter of pans crashing to the floor. Sam looked in that direction, then back at Thad. “I will be right back.”
Sam hurried away from the table. Thad rose slightly to peer over the counter that looked on the glassed-in kitchen and saw that a small grease fire had started. Staff bustled around, near hysteria, as Sam grabbed a fire extinguisher and worked on putting out the flames. The other diners in the restaurant fell to silence as they all turned their heads to take in the drama.
Thad hadn’t even noticed her approach, but suddenly Graziela stood near his table. She looked down at him with her dark eyes and smiled, yet she was shaking her head. “Didn’t my brother even offer you a little something to eat?”
“Oh, he did. But I wasn’t hungry.”
Graziela made a tsk-tsk sound. “Not hungry? A big, strong man like you?” Graziela snorted. “In my country, women learn to feed their men. I am gonna go back and fix you up a big bowl of pasta fagioli and you will eat. Okay?” For once Graziela gave him a smile that appeared to be both genuine and warm.
“Okay. I guess I have to learn you don’t say no to food from an Italian.”
“Especially an Italian woman. It is, how do you say it, in our genes to force food on people.”
The two of them laughed, and Graziela seemed just about to move away from the table when Thad said, “I guess you got that trait from your nana.”
“Oh yes, and my mama too. You want me to bring you some cheese for your pasta fagioli? There’s lots in it already, but I like a little on top… and some olive oil too.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Thad found that now he had cleared the air with Sam, he actually was hungry, and the spit that had been so rare in his mouth just a few minutes ago was now back with a vengeance. “How is she, by the way?”
Graziela stopped in her course to the kitchen and turned around. She cocked her head. “How is who?”
“Your nana.”
Graziela shrugged. “Okay, I guess. What makes you ask?”
“Well, you guys just visited her, right?” Thad thought he was just making conversation with Sam’s sister but didn’t like the look of confusion clouding her features.
“What do you mean?”
“Weren’t you just out there—in New York—over the weekend?”
“No. I don’t know where you got that notion. We haven’t seen Nana in a long time.”
It felt like someone had punched Thad in the stomach. He had to be sure. “And Sam didn’t go visit?”
“No. No, of course not. Where is all this coming from?” Graziela appeared genuinely confused.
Thad wondered if the chill he felt flow through him showed on his skin, if he looked clammy and pale. “Nowhere. Never mind.” Sam lied to me. Why? The idea of food, even the most delicious food, seemed repugnant to him now.
“I’ll go get your supper, Thad.”
“Never mind. I’m not so hungry anymore.” The clatter and bustle in the kitchen seemed to have died down, and Thad knew Sam would be returning to the table any minute. He didn’t know if he could face him, not without flying into a rage or bursting into tears.
If he wasn’t in New York, where was he? Where were all of them?
He thought of asking Graziela but didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. He just wanted, more than anything, to get out of the Blue Moon Café so he could breathe once more and lick his wounds.
Graziela laughed, obviously not spotting the terror on his face. “What did I just tell you, young man? You are eating!” And she started off toward the kitchen.
Thad called after her. “Graziela!”
“Yes?” She looked back at him, over her shoulder.
“Where’s Domenic?”
Her expression clouded over. “What do you know about that?”
“Sam just said he went back to Sicily.” Was that too a lie?
“Well then, you already know where Domenic is.” Graziela hurried off to the kitchen.
And Thad hurried out the door—into the night, into the rain, into a world unencumbered with lies, doubts, and misgivings. At least until he got home.
What was going on?
Chapter 14
November
“SO I haven’t seen him since that night. I miss him so much, but I just don’t know that I can abide a liar. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on.”
Thad took a sip of his dirty martini, his third of the night, and looked over at Jared, perched on the barstool next to him. They were at the Cell, a dark and once-smoky leather bar on Pine Street. The place had gritty hardwood floors, Colt and Tom of Finland posters on the walls, and a St. Andrew’s cross in one corner. Techno music played softly from the bar’s stereo system. Video monitors played endless loops of soft-core leather porn. Jared had called Thad earlier and announced that he was ready to go out again. The poor thing had not been inside a bar since the fateful night he’d seen his latest trick being literally devoured by a monster. Jared had also not seen a man naked since that night. It was beginning to get on his nerves.
Thad was only too glad to join him. Ever since he had discovered that Sam had lied about his weekend away from him, he didn’t know what to do. It had turned what he thought had been a relationship with a lot of promise on its head. Yet Thad could not shut his feelings off like a spigot simply because they were inconvenient. He still thought of Sam in loving and lustful terms.
And then he would think of how Sam had told him, in detail, of the family trip to New York… a trip that had never happened. Confusion and doubt shadowed everything Thad had thought to be true. He wondered what else Sam had lied to him about.
Of course, Sam had tried t
o make it up to him. He had called, he had sent flowers, a basket of anise-scented biscotti, and a bottle of vino santo. Hell, he had even shown up on Thad’s doorstep more than once, begging forgiveness.
And Thad would have forgiven him, if Sam had only come clean. But the closest thing he could get to an explanation from Sam was that there were things he couldn’t talk about with him, not yet. But he promised that, in due time, he would explain everything to Thad.
In due time?
That wasn’t good enough.
So Thad remained in limbo. His feelings for Sam prevented him from moving on, from making a break, from seeing other men. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Was he in a relationship or not?
So when the old Jared had called earlier tonight, full of good cheer, horniness, and humor, Thad knew his friend could provide an evening of oblivion. And oblivion was just what he needed.
The funny thing was, right after he hung up from Jared, the phone had rung again. Thad didn’t bother to look down at the Caller ID, assuming it would just be Jared calling back to tell him something he’d forgotten, something along the lines of which color jockstrap he should wear under his faded and ripped Levi’s.
“Clutter’s Fish Market,” Thad had answered the phone.
“What?”
Sam’s voice had surprised him. He looked down at the Caller ID too late and saw Samuel Lupino there in digital letters. If he had only looked before he picked up, he could have saved himself from more of the same awkwardness he’d been doing his best to avoid all month. He was annoyed that Sam was calling; couldn’t he just leave him alone to think? He didn’t really want to talk to him until the man was ready to tell the truth. A cold, irrational anger coursed through Thad. Jared had finally succeeded in putting him in a good mood, and Thad at last was looking forward to an evening where he wouldn’t agonize about Sam, and here was Sam, already spoiling it.
“Nothing. It was a joke. A dumb one. Have you called to finally tell me what’s going on with that weird family of yours? With that weird man I thought I knew? You know, the one called Sam? If that is your real name….”
“You’re not being fair.”
“No, you’re not being fair. If you want to lie to me and you don’t want to let me fully into your life, I don’t see how we can build a future together. We need trust… and right now, Sam, I just don’t have any. You should understand that.” Thad longingly eyed the jeans and long-sleeved black T-shirt he had laid out on his bed.
Don’t spoil this for me. Just don’t. I don’t know where you and I are headed, but that’s the last thing I want to think about tonight.
“I will tell you everything… soon. I love you, Thad.”
The statement just made Thad more furious. If Sam loved him, why play these games? Thad needed to end this conversation. “Listen, I have plans tonight.”
“Oh? A man?”
Thad considered for a moment explaining that his plans were simply with a friend and there was nothing between them. But why should he? Sam had obviously been less than honest with him, and maybe a little jealousy would force his Italian man to be a little more forthcoming. So Thad said, “Yes. A man. His name is Jared.”
Sam didn’t say anything for a long while. To fill the silence, Thad said, “I met him through my volunteer work. We’re meeting up at his place on Capitol Hill.”
“Do I know him?”
Thad felt almost cruel. It was both a victorious feeling and one that filled him with regret. He heard the hurt in Sam’s voice, even though he wasn’t there with him. Thad almost relented, but instead, he twisted the knife. “Jared Holmes? He gets around, so maybe you do know him? Lives on Aloha?”
“You have fun.” Sam’s voice and tone were chilly.
And Thad couldn’t bear it. “Look, if you’ll see me tonight… and lay all your cards on the table, I’ll cancel my date. Fair enough?”
Sam was silent for a long time. “I can’t. I have plans tonight.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just some family stuff. I will be out of town.”
“What are you doing, Sam? Tell me.” Thad felt himself begin to tremble, and a queasy nausea rose up in his gut.
“We can talk later. How about tomorrow?”
“Why not tonight?” Thad pressed.
“Tonight is no good. I have to go.” And Sam broke their connection.
Thad had to fight to resist the impulse to call him back. In the end, he decided to prime the pump and poured himself a large glass of vodka while he turned the shower on, setting it to steaming hot. He hoped he could find his way back to careless abandon and oblivion.
Men!
So now here he sat with Jared, and what were they talking about? Sam. Thad signaled the bartender for another martini, and Jared looked at him in surprise. “You better watch yourself there, pardner. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to carry you out of here.”
“Look, I just want to have some fun. Okay?” Thad handed the bartender a ten when he set down yet another chilled glass before him. “Keep the change, sweet cheeks.”
After the bartender wandered away, Jared asked, “Sweet cheeks? That does not sound like you.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want to be me tonight.” Thad looked around the bar, which had filled with more and more men as the evening wore on. The best way to distract Jared from Thad’s troubles was to divert his attention to Jared’s favorite subject: hot men.
“See anything you like?”
Jared’s gaze roamed the place, and when his expressionless features twisted into a lopsided grin, Thad knew the answer to his question. Jared had obviously spotted a good prospect. Thad swiveled in his barstool to see upon whom Jared’s gaze had lit.
Across the bar, someone stood out from the crowd of leather daddies, bears, and less noticeable guys in their flannel shirts, Cons, and jeans. A tall African American man leaned against the wall near the door, holding a bottle of Budweiser in one hand and coolly surveying the crowd. He wore baggy jeans that rode low on his hips, construction worker boots, a white V-neck muscle shirt that showed off a broad expanse of smooth and defined chest upon which lay a large gold chain, and a beat-up black hoodie zippered sweatshirt with a skull design. The guy had a shaved head, gold hoops in each ear, and a chinstrap beard that was so expertly trimmed it reminded Thad of topiary. Even from across the room, and even in those baggy jeans, Thad could make out a large bulge in the guy’s crotch, jutting out from his impossibly smooth and flat stomach.
He reached up and turned Jared’s face away from the guy. Jared was practically drooling. “Hey,” Thad said. “You mean him?” He nodded toward the guy.
“Of course, him. Is there anybody else here?”
Thad grinned. “I take offense at that.”
“You know what I mean. Just look at him, though. He’s gorgeous. And tough. He looks dangerous. I like that in a man.”
Thad wanted to tell Jared that being attracted to danger, after all he’d been through, seemed pretty hopeless. But he didn’t know if he could get through the stars clouding Jared’s vision. Instead he said, “He looks like a thug.” And indeed he did. Complete with what looked like a gang tattoo on his neck. Thad thought neck and hand tattoos were the most hard core of all. After all, clothing couldn’t hide them when they might prove inconvenient.
“I know.” Jared craned to see around someone who had obstructed his view of his rough-trade ebony god. “Good Lord, he’s probably a sex machine.”
And before Thad knew what was happening, Jared managed to hook the guy with his blue-eyed gaze. Jared’s smile was a lasso he used to reel the man over to them. Up close, the man was even more beautiful. His skin had a rich, lustrous darkness and his eyes an almost feral brownish-gold luminescence. His full lips revealed even white teeth when he smiled. Even the gold inlays in his front teeth, an affectation at which Thad would have normally scoffed, looked sexy and scary at the same time.
“Hey, I couldn’t help but
notice you standing over there all alone,” Jared said, never once breaking eye contact with the man. “And I thought, what a shame something that hot is all by himself. And then I thought, what am I thinking? It’s wonderful he’s all alone. And then….”
To stop Jared from babbling, Thad extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Thad. And my obviously smitten friend here is Jared.”
The man had an amused expression on his face as he looked over the pair of them. “TJ.” He reached out to shake Thad’s hand, which was when Thad noticed a small pistol in a leather holster hanging at the waistband of his baggy jeans. “Thug” was right. This guy was for real. Yet TJ’s voice was warm and his smile genuine. He shook hands firmly with Thad, meeting his gaze.
Jared slid down from his stool to break the handshake, and the contact, between Thad and TJ. He maneuvered himself so his and TJ’s chests were touching. “I don’t care much for that handshake business. I’m all about a kiss as a way to greet new friends.” And with that, he stood on tiptoe and planted a deep, lingering kiss on TJ’s mouth. Over Jared’s shoulder, TJ’s eyes met Thad’s, and Thad could read surprise, delight, and humor in the look.
Yup, the old Jared was back.
But what about the gun? Should he say something? What kind of friend would he be if he didn’t? He could see, even in these few seconds, where things were headed between Jared and TJ. Jared had moved on to groping the man’s crotch—so demure, so subtle! He had to say something, so he insinuated himself between the pair, much as Jared had just done. He leaned close to TJ’s ear and whispered, “What’s up with the gun?”
TJ stepped back and flicked his hand over the cold steel handle. Then he pulled his shirt over it and zipped his jacket closed. “You’re an observant one. I could say that it’s none of your business, but I can see you’re concerned about your friend here.”
“That’s right.”
“It’s for protection, is all. You’ve heard that three guys have been killed lately? And two of ’em have been here on the Hill.” TJ shrugged and put out his large hands in a gesture of surrender. “I need to take care of myself, you know? I bet I’m not the only dude packin’ these days. Can you blame me?”
