Krewe Daddy

by Margie Church

  Anguish was in Luis' eyes, his voice. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say."

  Drew's temper rose. "I suppose this is Ronnie's metaphoric way of sticking you with his dick. He lost a playmate, and now he's playing the winning hand. This is what you get for sleeping with clients." He crossed his arms on his chest. "It never works out.

  Ever."

  "Let's not be too sanctimonious. You were sleeping with Kyle."

  "And look how that worked out. My point is illustrated again. Except you were fucking the whole merry band of dames. One of them wasn't enough for you, and the company doesn't want to—"

  "That's enough, Drew." Luis' eyes sparked with fury. "We agreed that our pasts were off limits."

  "Except now yours came into the future and is affecting us, isn't it?"

  "I get that you might be anxious about traveling alone, but we'll work it out. And your seizures aren't as frequent. You're not as fragile as you were even two weeks ago."

  "So you want to shove me aside now, and pick up your life where you left off, is that it?"

  "Don't be childish. I put my life on hold for months to help take care of you."

  Drew swiped his hands together as though brushing something off his palms.

  "Done and dusted, right? Fine. I suppose it's time that I regained more of my independence anyway."

  Luis frowned. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Drew, but this conversation is over. I’m not going to listen to you fling wild accusations at me, or encourage you to throw a pity party for yourself. Saying I'm happy about missing the wedding, or any of these other things you're suggesting, is ludicrous."

  He took his drink, and walked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  The reverberations from the slamming door mixed with the ringing of Drew's cell phone. Sheila Parson's picture appeared on the face. Drew's stomach dropped like a brick of gold in a free-fall.

  Drew answered the call. "Hello, Sheila. I’m hoping you have good news for me."

  "I do." Excitement bubbled in her voice. "Both those beasts were indicted. They're going to trial, Drew. There's no way they'll get off without jail time. You've done it. At least there's some recompense for everything you've endured."

  Stunned by the news, Drew sat down on a kitchen chair. "Say it again. I'm not sure I heard you."

  "Henrique Sandalio and Tommy Loushone are going to trial, and I don't see any way they'll avoid a jail sentence. My office will not accept anything less than three years for Sandalio, and five for Loushone."

  "I'd hoped it would be fifty apiece." Awareness dawned on him. "Can I leave the apartment without a police escort now?"

  "I don't know if that would be a good idea, but now that we have three of these goons behind bars, plus the Sandalios, I don't see why you need to stay inside the way you have."

  His mind spun. Freedom. Drew felt like he was unshackled from his past. Another component of his life had been handed back to him. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done. Do you have any idea when the trials will start?"

  "No. Sandalio will bring in the big guns to fight with everything he's got. His son went to jail, but Henrique certainly doesn't want to take a turn. Loushone will use a public defender. I'm sure he'll be cycled through the system before Sandalio ever sets foot in the courtroom. We'll have to see how it goes. In the meantime, take care of yourself, and I'll be calling you when we're getting organized for the trials."

  They finished their conversation, then Drew hung up. He exhaled, still not grasping the full impact of what the District Attorney had told him. He glanced toward the bathroom door. He'd been an ass to Luis—again.

  Maybe we can go out to celebrate.

  Drew knocked softly on the door. "Luis?" He heard the sound of water swishing in the bathtub.

  "What?"

  "May I come in?"

  "I'm taking a bath, if you don't mind."

  Drew had been in the bathroom many times while Luis had a good, long soak.

  Sometimes, he'd joined him in the tub, too. He's really pissed. "Sheila called. Good news.

  Both those assholes were indicted."

  More swishing water sounds. Drew wondered if Luis was getting out of the tub.

  He waited a little longer.

  "Luis, did you hear what I said? Sandalio and Loushone are going to trial. And I can finally move around the Earth again, instead of being treated like a criminal myself." He paused, expecting Luis to open the door. But he didn't, and that took some of the celebratory wind out of Drew's sails.

  "Would you like to go out to dinner to celebrate?"

  "I think I'd like to finish my bath."

  His soft but dismissive tone gave Drew no choice but to bide his time. He went into the living room, knowing an excellent apology was required. An idea came to him.

  Drew went to the table, and scribbled a note for Luis. Then, he took his electronic tablet and opened the apartment door.

  The security guard looked surprised to see him.

  "I'd like to go out for a while. Would you please drive me?"

  "That's part of my job. Sure, let's go."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Luis got out of the bathtub and dried off with a fluffy towel. He was still steamed about what Drew had said about Ronnie, but there seemed no point in having a pissing match to determine who could be the bigger jerk. And Drew's news was exactly what they'd been hoping for. A night out would do both of them some good.

  He opened the bathroom door to silence. "Drew?"

  Luis walked into the living room. Empty. Maybe he's napping. But Drew wasn't in the bedroom, or anywhere else in the apartment.

  What the fuck?

  He found Drew's note on the table.

  Running an errand. Be back soon.

  Luis crumpled the paper and tossed it in the direction of the trash, not caring if he hit the bin. The idea of Drew being out alone made Luis's blood boil. In his estimation, Drew was nowhere near ready for outings.

  The man is sorely testing my patience today.

  He dialed Drew's cell phone. It went straight to voicemail. Luis wasn't even sure if Drew had the damn thing on him. He rolled his eyes and left a message.

  "Will you please call me? I'm not crazy about you being out alone."

  When an hour passed with no word from Drew, Luis' last nerve snapped. He went to his closet and shoved aside his expensive suits hanging there. He fingered his leather garments at the end rack, deciding which hot number suited his fiery mood.

  He pulled on his black leather pants with the chains hanging from the hips. The soft leather felt like butter against his legs. A white, super-tight T-shirt hugged his chest like a second skin. He slid into a black leather vest. Silver studs outlined the pocket trim. He sat on the edge of the bed to put on his square-toed, black boots. Tucking his pants cuffs inside, he then laced the heavy boots. A black leather hat completed his kick-ass look. Luis put his wallet in his vest pocket and grabbed his keys.

  He stopped at the dining room table. Not to be out-done in the game of cryptic messages, he simply wrote: Be back later. L.

  * * * * *

  Luis nodded to the bouncer when he crossed the threshold at Tanners.

  "It's been awhile, Luis."

  "Too long." Luis made his way to the bar. He shrugged off his vest and out of his T-shirt, before ordering a tall Jack and Coke. He stuffed the hem of his shirt in his back pocket, and hoped it would be there when he left.

  While he was putting on his vest again, a familiar voice caught his ear.

  The bartender put his drink on the rail. "Four-fifty."

  Luis gave him a five spot and picked up his glass. A fire smoldered in his gut as he made his way around the crowded bar.

  He stood behind a man wearing a black wig.

  "How's it going, doll face?" He'd chosen a condescending tone on purpose.

  Ronnie swung around, a few strands of his shoulder-length wig catching on his beard. He arched a perfectly shape
d eyebrow. "Well, if it's not the Daddy."

  A smirk lifted the corner of Ronnie's painted lips.

  Luis launched his attack. "How could you pull that devious bullshit behind my back, and call our CEO to get me on your float? You knew I was going to Minnesota, and that Drew isn't ready to travel alone."

  "It's business, sweetheart, plain and simple. The Flamin' Dames pumped a nice lump of cash into Magik Studios and your pockets this year." He pointed at Luis' chest to emphasize his point. "You know the designer always rides the float in the inaugural parade."

  "The float's inaugural parade was last year." Luis gritted his teeth, trying to keep his temper in check. He took a long pull of his drink, and then signaled to the bartender to make him another.

  "As your CEO explained, the changes are so significant that Aphrodite looks like a brand new creation. We have fabulous new costumes, too. Fair's fair, my love."

  "Don't call me that."

  Ronnie ran his index finger down Luis' chest. His eyes smoldered with wicked intent. He grasped the edge of Luis' vest, pulling him close enough for Luis to smell the cognac on Ronnie's breath.

  "We could go in back and get reacquainted. Perhaps if you do an enthusiastic job, I'll recant, and you can go off to frozen la-la-land with your beloved." Ronnie's smile matched his sickening-sweet tone.

  Slapping the cross-dressing bitch was out of the question. Ronnie had a vindictive streak. An assault of any type at this point would cost him, professionally and personally. Luis guzzled the rest of his drink before paying the bartender for a fresh one.

  "I'll be there. I honor my commitments, but you'll be needing a new Krewe Daddy. When your parade is over, I'm off the account."

  Luis took his drink and walked into the back room. Although the pool tables were more often used for a pickup opportunity than a serious game, tonight Luis wanted to play. And play he did. Always very good with the stick, he sank one ball after another, along with his pool-playing victims, who probably hoped they'd still come out a winner in a different way. Blowjobs were a frequent fee for a loss. Luis also fended off the advances of other guys in the room, and pounded down the Jack and Cokes.

  A few hours later, he'd had his fill for the night. Luis reeked of sweat, booze, and of every guy who'd pawed him tonight. All the alcohol he'd consumed gave him a serious buzz. A few steps into the main bar, Luis knew he couldn't drive.

  "Need a ride home?"

  Luis turned to see Ronnie standing behind him. All evening long, he'd been hovering, and Luis had deliberately ignored him. Well, except for the provocative way he'd spread his legs and shifted his ass to take a shot every time his back was to Ronnie.

  He definitely wanted to make Ronnie pay for his manipulations, even if the price was only an aching hard-on. Luis knew exactly how to work that game, too.

  Even in his inebriated state, Luis smelled trouble. "No thanks. I'll call a cab."

  Ronnie grabbed the keys from Luis' hand. "Don't be an idiot. I'll drive you."

  "I'd be the idiot if I let you." He reached for his keys, and not only did he miss, he stumbled. The full effect of the booze hit him hard. "I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

  His words slurred, and he poked Ronnie's shoulder with his index finger. "And right now, that's not very far. Give me my keys. I'm calling a cab."

  Ronnie glared at him.

  "Fuck that, I'll get the keys another time." Luis took out his cell phone. It clattered on the floor. "Son-of-a-mother-fucking-bitch."

  He leaned down to pick it up, swaying as he went.

  Ronnie interceded, picking up the phone, and grabbing Luis' arm to steady him.

  He dropped his falsetto. "Let's get you out of here before something happens that shouldn't. I'll get you home safely, and we'll call it even."

  Luis couldn't focus well enough on Ronnie's words to discern whether he was telling the truth. His mouth felt like it was coated in paste; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He hadn't gotten this wasted in a long time. Too drunk to argue, Luis agreed.

  "Drive me home and that's all. You can call a cab from the parking garage."

  * * * * *

  Luis stared out the window while Ronnie drove. Streetlights and taillights looked blurry and made his head spin. He closed his eyes to avoid the inevitable—

  throwing up—and cursed himself for letting his guard down.

  When they arrived in the parking garage of Luis' building, Ronnie helped him from the car. He threw his arm under Luis' to steady him.

  "I'll get you upstairs. If I don't, they'll probably find you passed out in the elevator."

  Too wasted and tired to argue, Luis nodded. He leaned against the wall like a mannequin for the ride up. His stomach rolled when the car lurched to a stop.

  They left the elevator and walked down the hall. Luis focused all his energy on making his feet take as straight a path as possible. His legs acted like rubber bands.

  Even in his inebriated state, he knew he was staggering like an exhausted bull.

  The security guard outside his door stood up. "Late night, Luis?"

  He merely nodded.

  "Let me help you with those keys, Miss."

  Ronnie giggled, his falsetto back in full force.

  The security team knew that Drew and Luis were gay, but chagrin filled Luis when he thought of what they must be thinking of this performance. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. I just hope Drew is in bed, asleep.

  * * * * *

  The key hitting the door lock awakened Drew. He got out of his recliner, nervous as hell about seeing Luis. He'd given up on being angry hours ago; he just wanted him home. "Luis?"

  The door swung open to reveal Ronnie, his wig askew, and Luis half-draped over him.

  At any other time, with anyone else, the scene might have been laughable. Not tonight. "Jesus Christ, what in the hell happened?"

  Luis gave him a sloppy smile. "I'm home, dear, did you mmm . . . miss me?"

  Ronnie followed up with a sour expression that matched his peeved tone. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Drew. We're just friends."

  Resist as he might, Drew's temper flared. "Friends with benefits still, Ronnie?"

  He narrowed his eyes at Drew. "You are such a fool. Let's get him into bed."

  Luis raised his hand. "I want to go to bed. We'll talk in the morning. You coming, Ronnie?"

  His words slurred, his gait just as uneven, Luis stopped in the middle of the living room. Swaying on his feet, he seemed to realize his mistake. "I mean Drew. Put me to bed, Drew."

  Drew hesitated. He had two choices: act like a man, or a jealous lover, for the second time that evening. He glared at Ronnie. "Thanks for bringing him home safely.

  Now get out."

  "Like I said, you're such a fool."

  Drew slung Luis' arm over his shoulder, and hoped they could navigate without falling.

  Ronnie got on the other side of Luis. "Oh for fuck's sake, let me help you before you hurt yourselves."

  Drew didn't argue. Getting a rubbery Luis down the narrow hallway was a challenge. He shuddered over the idea of letting Ronnie back into Luis' bedroom.

  Knowing they'd slept in the same bed many nights together, too, Drew made a note to buy a new bed.

  They poured Luis onto the mattress. He landed with all the grace of a seal on a patch of arctic ice.

  As much as he detested the idea of having to say it, he did. "I can take it from here, Ronnie, thanks."

  "I'll see myself out."

  Drew didn't look backward.

  Soft snores were already coming from Luis. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Judging from the smell and the condition he was in, Drew surmised he'd been at Tanners. He unlaced the boots and tugged them off Luis' feet. The dead weight of his legs challenged the strength in Drew's right arm. He didn't bother with Luis' pants. Drew knew he couldn't negotiate them off the sleeping man's body. Afterward, he pulled the sheet over Luis, and went to the guest room for the night.

 
* * * * *

  Drew spent a restless night alone. The morning passed as slow as a turtle in a hundred-yard dash. He heard Luis get up several times to do hangover kinds of things in the bathroom, and waited for him to rejoin the living. A big part of Drew hoped his head exploded and he'd puke his guts up until dinnertime. The rest of him felt bad that he'd probably been the reason Luis got so hammered.

  Luis almost had to hang onto the carpet to keep from falling off the face of the Earth last night.

  He flipped through the television channels and finally settled on a football game.

  Might as well watch the Saints hand Minnesota their ass again. The memory of that play-off game always made Drew smile. He sat back, hoping for a repeat performance.

  Around halftime, the bedroom door opened. Drew twisted around to see if Luis was trekking across the hall again or not.

  "Hey."

  You look like hell. "Are you going to live?"

  His face ashen, and his eyes looking like two piss holes in the snow, Luis shrugged, and went to the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen counter on one hand, while reaching for a glass out of the cupboard.

  Drew had been in that drunken-alien-in-my-body spot many times. Best not to poke the bear. Ice clattered into Luis' glass, followed by water. Drew tuned back into the football game.

  The shuffling of his slippers on the floor made Drew give Luis his full attention.

  "Would you please turn that off? We need to talk." Luis voice sounded like he was chewing gravel.

  Drew turned off the game.

  Luis sat on the couch. "What the hell happened last night?"

  "You got blasted. Totally schnockered. Commode hugging drunk. Ronnie brought you home."

  Luis rubbed his face. "That's what I thought. What else?"

  "You asked Ronnie to put you to bed."

  Groaning like he had an abscessed tooth, Luis leaned back against the couch.

  "Did he?"

  "I may have acted like a jealous lover earlier in the evening, but I wasn't going to just hand you over." Drew paused. "He helped me. You were so unsteady on your feet. I think Ronnie knew I'd be in trouble if you fell on me."