Chapter 13

“It’s okay. Lots of us have been down that Rocky road,” the boy said, then laughed mirthlessly at his own pun. “You need a drink.” Wesley got up and went to the bar without asking what Dan might want. When he came back he had two tall drinks in his hands.

“What’s this?” Dan asked.

“I call ‘em high octane forgetfulness.” He handed a glass to Dan, raised his, and offered a toast. “To all the men whose hearts Roscoe Santani has fucked with.”

They clinked glasses.

“Drink up,” Wesley said.

Three…or was it four, drinks later, Dan and Wesley stumbled into a cheap motel room not far from The Flame. Dan kicked the door shut with his foot as he pushed Wesley backwards, holding the boy’s face in his hands. He kissed the young man as if the world were ending and this were his last chance at love.