Burden

by K. C. Wells

  “Where?” Jesse’s heartbeat quickened. Please, tell me he’s offering….

  “You know the XL Lounge on West 42nd Street? There’s an apartment block next door, and lots of guys stay there.” Steve’s eyes gleamed. “And I do mean lots. Hookers, rent boys, escorts, sex workers… whatever you wanna call ’em, they live there. And we look out for each other.”

  “Any apartments available?”

  “No idea, but I can find out.” Steve’s face lit up. “But I got a better idea. Move in with me. Okay, so it’s not that big, but there’s a couch. You do outcalls only, right?”

  Jesse nodded.

  “Then that works out just fine. It makes sense. We share the rent, instead of you forking out for your own place.”

  Jesse had to admit, he really liked the idea. “You sure I wouldn’t… cramp your style?”

  Steve guffawed. “Hell no. And it would be good to have someone I can trust around the place. I mean, it’s not like we don’t know each other, right?”

  He had a point. Jesse nodded. “Then, yeah, I’d love to.”

  “When could you move in?”

  “Well, not until the weekend. I’m gonna be busy until then.” He smirked.

  Steve raised his glass. “Amen to that kind of busy.”

  Jesse clinked his against it, then pulled out his phone. “And speaking of business, I gotta run. Got a guy waiting for me on the Upper East Side.” He drained his glass, then reached into his pocket for three dollars.

  Steve shook his head. “Keep your money. You can buy the next one. Now that I know where you’re gonna be living.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Jesse laughed. “Thanks, Steve, you’re a lifesaver.” He leaned across and gave him a peck on the cheek before getting up from the table. “I’ll text you about moving in, all right?”

  Steve nodded. “Now get your cute ass to the Upper East Side an’ work it, baby.”

  Jesse gave a little wiggle as he walked toward the door, hearing Steve’s laughter behind him.

  Despite Steve’s revelations about possible changes on the horizon, Jesse was feeling more positive. Things were looking up, finally.

  RANDY WALKED into the Stitch Bar and scanned the tables. He smiled when he caught sight of Donna waving at him and made his way over to her table. She stood as he approached, beaming, her arms wide for a hug.

  “Hey, how’s my famous cousin? And where did all your hair go?”

  Randy laughed as she released him. “Why? You don’t like it? And not so famous these days, thankfully. What are you drinking?”

  Donna rolled her eyes. “A cocktail, what else? It’s goddamn happy hour.”

  “Ah, is that why we’re here?” Randy couldn’t have cared less where they met up. He hadn’t seen Donna in a long while.

  “That, and the fact that they serve amazing pizza. I’ve got one ordered.” Her eyes glittered. “If you’re good, you can share. Now, what are you having? And don’t go all boring on me. Choose a cocktail. Live adventurously. You must be missing all that, now that you’re back to everyday policing.”

  Randy huffed. “It’s certainly not boring.”

  A waitress appeared at their table, but before he could utter a word, Donna ordered him a cosmopolitan. As the waitress walked away from them, Randy stared at Donna.

  “That’s it? I get no choice?”

  “Suck it up. I’m buying this round. You can buy the next.”

  Randy laughed. “Oh Lord. Last time we went to a bar, you drank me under the table.”

  Donna buffed her nails on her blouse. “That’s ’cause a beat cop can outdrink a detective any day of the week.” She leaned back in her chair. “God, it’s good to see ya. I meant to call weeks ago when the trial finished, but life kinda got in the way.”

  “Is that why you called? Because it has been a while? Not that I’m complaining, you understand. I love seeing you.” He grinned. “It’s that suspicious nature of mine. Can’t turn it off.” Donna bit her lip, and Randy gaped. “My God, are you blushing? You don’t blush, ever.”

  She gave him a mock glare. “Hey. Course I blush. And I asked you here because… I have news.” She held up her left hand, and something glinted on her ring finger.

  Randy’s jaw dropped. “No. Seriously? When did this happen? And who’s the lucky guy?” Before she could reply, he got up from his chair, came around to hers, and hoisted her to her feet in a fierce hug. “That’s wonderful,” he said quietly, his cheek pressed to hers. He released her and took a step back. “Yeah, happy is a good look on you.”

  They sat down, and Donna took a long drink from her glass. “Okay, now to answer your questions. This happened last week, and you might know him. His name is Andy Varrio.”

  Randy blinked. “He’s a cop, isn’t he? Works Vice?”

  She nodded. “He just transferred to Brooklyn. And this is all Mitch Jenkins’s fault.”

  “Mitch?” Randy laughed. “How is this his fault?”

  “I took him to talk to Andy—you know, about Nikko? And he asked me how long I’d had the hots for him. Well, it got me thinking. Hell, if Mitch could see it, maybe everyone else could too. Including Andy. So I… asked him out for a drink. That was nearly a year ago. Anyhow, last week he popped the question.”

  Randy had to admit, she looked ridiculously happy. “How did Aunt Carol take the news?”

  Donna snickered. “Oh my God. I swear, I’ve only just gotten Mom to stop saying, ‘Well, it’s about time.’ To hear her, you’d think I was an old maid. I’m only thirty.” She grinned. “Not as old as some folks I know, right, cousin? You’re, what, thirty-six? Isn’t it time you found yourself a good woman and settled down?” She rolled her eyes and shuddered. “Christ, I’m turning into my mom.”

  Randy snickered, but all the muscles in his stomach tensed. “Any date set for the wedding?”

  Donna shook her head. “This is gonna take some organizing. Andy has this huge family, and they’re spread out all over Brooklyn, Queens, Long Island…. Thank God our side isn’t that ginormous.” She fell silent as the waitress approached with Randy’s cosmo and a large wooden slab with a delicious-looking pizza on it. When they were alone again, Donna gave him an inquiring glance. “I didn’t put my foot in it, did I? I mean, I have no idea if you’re seeing anyone….”

  Randy smiled. “Still single, and happy to stay that way.” He helped himself to a slice of pizza, moaning when the flavors burst on his tongue. “My God, this is good.”

  “Didn’t I tell ya?” Donna took a bite, nodding. “Mmm.” She swallowed and peered at him again. “And how is my old friend Mitch?” She sighed. “I miss him. I comfort myself with the knowledge that he’s happy up in Maine. He is still happy, right?”

  “Blissfully.” Randy envied him. He and Nikko were obviously such a good fit.

  “Hey, what did you mean about work certainly not being boring?”

  He sighed. “Long story.”

  “Then give me the sound bite.”

  Randy took a sip of his cocktail. “It’s like someone lit a fire under the police commissioner’s ass. Get this—I now have ‘targets’ to meet.” He air-quoted.

  “What kind of targets?”

  He paused. “We’re being pushed really hard to get the sex workers off the streets, like they’ve suddenly become an eyesore or something.”

  Donna’s sigh echoed his. “Yeah, that’s what Andy was saying too. I guess it’s happening all over the state.” She gazed at him thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something? How do you feel about that? Seeing as you worked undercover in a brothel. Does it make you see things differently?”

  Randy let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. I can’t help it. I got to know those guys. More importantly, I got to know why they were there. And yeah, it does color how I see things.”

  Donna inclined her head toward the pizza. “Less talk, more pizza. And just to lighten the mood, I’ll tell you some of Frank’s latest exploits.”

  Randy groaned. His cousin Frank
was gay, and not exactly a good judge of character when it came to the men he dated. “What’s he done now?”

  Donna bit her lip. “I’m just gonna say a few choice words. Emergency Room. Candles. Doorknob. Inappropriate use thereof.”

  Randy winced. “Ouch. And by the way, we’re eating here.”

  Like that ever stopped Donna.

  RANDY KISSED Donna goodbye and headed for the subway. As he neared the station, he glimpsed a familiar figure: a tousled-haired blond, slim man leaning against the wall next to the entrance, his hands in his jacket pockets. Randy’s heartbeat sped up, and he hurried over.

  “Hey, Jesse!”

  The young man turned, frowning when he saw Randy. “Were you talkin’ to me?”

  It wasn’t Jesse.

  Randy held up his hands in apology. “Sorry. I… thought you were someone else.”

  The guy nodded amiably, and then his face lit up as another man walked over to him, his arms open wide. “Hey, you got here.”

  Randy tried not to stare as they kissed, clearly lost in each other and not giving a shit for those who observed them.

  When they parted, the blond guy looked in Randy’s direction, and he tensed. “Can I do somethin’ for ya?” His partner jerked his head up and stared at Randy, too, just as tense.

  Fuck. Randy gave him as relaxed a smile as he could manage. “It’s fine, honest. Just good to see people in love.”

  Just like that, the blond guy’s features softened, and he smiled warmly. “Hey, no problem.” He took the other man’s hand, and they walked away, not letting go.

  Randy waited until they were out of sight, then expelled a long breath.

  Talk about Jesse on my mind.

  It was getting to be a common occurrence.

  Chapter Five

  JUNE WAS turning out to be very pleasant—warm enough that Jesse was wearing his jeans and a pale pink shirt with only the middle buttons fastened. The perfect day to be taking a walk in Isham Park.

  Not that Jesse was there to take a walk. He was scouting for business. The entrance to the park on 212th Street and Broadway had proved profitable a couple of times in the past, but this was obviously not one of those days. It was usually easy to spot those who were interested—there was no way to hide it when a guy walked past you but kept looking back. Busted.

  The tricky part was when a guy wanted to take him into the park and fuck him up against a tree. That got the adrenaline pumping.

  In the end it hadn’t mattered that it was a perfect summer’s day. It was past four o’clock and Jesse had spent a couple of hours there, with nothing to show for it. If the day wasn’t going to turn out to be a complete bust, he needed to move on to a more profitable location. At least, that was the idea—until he caught sight of a familiar figure, heading right for him. Jesse peered a little closer and stiffened. His hair was a damn sight shorter, but it was definitely Randy. He wore jeans and a white shirt, as if he was trying to blend into the background.

  Because he looked nothing like a cop.

  What’s he doing way up here? Then Jesse gave himself a swift mental kick. What are you, a fucking moron? He’s hardly out for a walk in the park, is he? He’s a fucking Vice cop. And it’s a solid bet he’s looking for guys like me.

  Jesse thought fast. Because it was a sure bet Randy would want to know what he was doing there too. He breathed in deeply, then smiled, standing still as Randy drew nearer. “Hey.” His pulse raced with the effort he was putting into looking relaxed.

  Randy’s face lit up. “Hey. What brings you to this neighborhood?”

  Jesse gestured to a spot behind him. “Oh, I had a job interview at a pizza place around the corner, but they took on someone else.” He tried to look suitably upset about the outcome, aware that he couldn’t lie for shit. His mom had told him that often enough.

  “Aw, that’s a shame. Have you got time for a coffee?”

  The unexpected question took Jesse aback for a second, but he recovered quickly. “Sure. Where’d you have in mind?”

  Randy pointed across the street to where a cafe stood, its white-framed windows open, with seating outside behind a red barrier, and a red-and-white striped awning above. “How about there? It’s a great day for sitting outside.”

  Jesse peered at the sign above the cafe. “My, how French. Sure. Cafe De Broadway it is.”

  Randy chuckled. “The name might be, but inside it’s pure all-American.” He walked over to the crosswalk, and they waited until the traffic came to a halt.

  Jesse chuckled. “Yeah, good idea. You wouldn’t wanna get caught jaywalking, right?”

  Randy snorted. “I’ve missed that sassy mouth of yours.”

  They crossed the street and went inside the cafe. The server led them out to a table, and they sat.

  Randy looked him up and down. “A word of advice? If you’re serious about finding a job, maybe a less casual look next time might be the way to go?” He smirked. “I mean, I know it was only a pizza place, but still, first impressions, right?”

  Jesse forced a laugh. “That might’ve had something to do with the outcome, don’tcha think? Thanks for the advice.” He perused the menu, his mouth watering when he saw one item. “When was the last time I had flan?” he murmured.

  “Flan?” Randy frowned. “You mean, like a tart?”

  Jesse shook his head. “It’s like a creme caramel, only with more substance. Great if you have a sweet tooth.”

  Randy sighed. “Damn. Your X-ray vision saw my weakness right away.”

  “Oh really?” Jesse snickered, and when the server returned, he ordered two portions of flan, plus a couple of lattes. Once the server had left them, he relaxed into his chair and gazed at their surroundings. “This is really nice.” How in the hell he managed to sound so calm, he would never know. What is it about Randy that gets me all tongue-tied and wound up tighter than a clock spring?

  Like he didn’t know the answer to that one.

  “I’m glad I got the chance to get you on your own,” Randy said after a moment’s silence. “That lunch after the trial wasn’t the best time to talk.”

  A rolling sensation unfurled in Jesse’s belly. “Oh? What about?”

  Randy rested his chin on his steepled fingers and gazed at him. “I asked about your family, but you didn’t answer.”

  “Not quite. You got a call, remember?” Jesse knew he wasn’t going to get away with it a second time.

  Randy smiled. “Nothing wrong with your memory, is there, Jesse? But now you can answer. Because I got the feeling all wasn’t right with you and that your family might be one of the reasons for that. Of course, I could have everything backward, but I doubt it. Nothing wrong with my memory either.” He regarded Jesse closely. “You were always such a happy, laid-back soul. Used to make me smile to hear the way you went on.”

  Jesse couldn’t resist. “Except you never used to smile at me, only Nikko. I’d joke with him about it. Thing is, when you stopped smiling, I knew that was bad.”

  Randy stared at him. “And there I was, thinking I was doing such a good job of remaining objective in there.”

  Jesse sighed. “You were easily the most human person in that place.” When Randy didn’t break eye contact but held his stare, Jesse shrugged. “We held on to that.”

  “I see.” Randy cleared his throat, the faintest flush creeping up his neck.

  The coffees arrived, and soon after, the flans, each one sitting in the center of a plate, caramel sauce drizzled over it, along with raspberry sauce, and a cherry on top of it, with a couple of mint leaves as the finishing touch.

  Randy beamed. “This looks amazing.” He patted his stomach. “And definitely wicked.” He took a forkful, and closed his eyes as he tasted it, his tongue darting out to lick the sauce from his lips.

  Jesse tried not to stare. This was a bad idea. He attempted to concentrate on his flan, but Randy had other ideas.

  “So are you gonna tell me now? About your family?”

&
nbsp; Sighing, Jesse put down his fork and slowly recited the whole sorry mess, dismayed as Randy’s expression morphed from shock into anger. When he’d finished, Randy was staring at the tabletop, his jaw set.

  “I am so sorry,” he said at last. “I had no idea it ended up that way. And I can’t help feeling that I’m partly to blame.”

  Jesse stilled, gazing at him incredulously. “How can any of this be your fault? I was the one who chose to work there, remember? You were just doing your job. And because you did your job, Richards and the rest of them are behind bars tonight.”

  That jaw hadn’t so much as quivered. “Yeah, but I got you to testify. You didn’t have to do that.”

  Jesse huffed. “Of course I did. You said it yourself. For the case to succeed, you needed as many of us as possible to say what went on there.”

  Randy stared at him for a moment, then went back to his flan. “So where are you living now? Obviously you’re still in New York.”

  Jesse smiled. “Like I could live anywhere else.” Except that wasn’t quite true, not anymore. The Big Apple had lost a lot of its luster during the past ten months.

  “And yet you still haven’t said where exactly it is that you’re living.” Randy’s lips twitched.

  “Oh, I’m sharing with a friend. It made sense to have a roommate,” Jesse said vaguely.

  That careful scrutiny was once more in evidence. “Do you need anything? And I’m being serious here, so don’t just wave me off. I mean it. If you need something, ask.”

  Randy’s quiet, earnest voice found its way under Jesse’s skin, and he swallowed hard, genuinely touched. “I’m fine, honest, but thank you.” Too much emotion, way too close to the surface. He gestured to Randy’s hair. “I thought I’d hate the new look, but you know what? It suits you.” His blue-black hair was glossy, cut close to his head, and had Jesse itching to run his fingers over it. The combination of dark hair, creamy skin with a hint of facial scruff, and those startlingly blue eyes behind wire frames was stunning. Randy’s eyes had always had the capacity to make Jesse weak at the knees, but now?