Chapter 2

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The bar I went to on Saturday night was up the coast. The mid-sized car I’d rented was comfortable enough and made the drive an easy one. When I got inside, the place was packed, as expected. I had seen men from my town in here from time to time—the sheriff, especially. Thankfully he was with someone steady now, because some of the men he used to hook up with? Scary.

I waved down the owner and bartender once I pushed my way to the bar—Fred was his name, and one of the few African-Americans I knew of in the area, aside from me—and asked for a Guinness. Once he brought it, I paid with cash and a tip.

“How’s it hangin’, Bill?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face, as usual. He was bigger than me, which was saying a lot. We had hooked up a time or two, just for kicks.

“You know the answer to that, don’t you, Freddie?” I replied with a wink.

Fred laughed. “You’re such a rascal.” Before he could say anything further, he was called to the other end of the bar. I settled in to enjoy my stout and scope out the possibilities.

No one was looking in my direction yet, which was fine. Eventually, when the pickings were slim, I would become viable—simple attrition. Did it bother me? Not much. My only requirement for a sweet lay was that the guy was clean and not a total ass.

I spent an hour watching the mating rituals of men in heat. It was amusing. The tall, good-looking, buff guys got most of the attention in the meat market. Clothing mattered, too. It had to showcase the goods, after all. I wore faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, untucked. It was my usual attire, the length of the sleeves varying only with the weather. It played to my strengths while de-emphasizing my middle.

There was this one guy who caught my eye, someone I’d never seen here before. He was almost too skinny, looked to be in his early twenties, might come up to my shoulder in height. His outfit fit him like a glove. He was pale, with wavy reddish-blond hair almost to his shoulders, and I was sure there were freckles somewhere and wished I was close enough to see them. I wondered what his skin would look like next to my own dark tones. It would be like night and day.

He seemed to be popular, and everyone wanted to dance with him. And why not? The man was practically boneless, every move mesmerizing. I never once caught his eye, but I couldn’t keep mine off him.

Fred came back my way after he served yet another thirsty customer. I asked, “Who’s the new kid?”

“Name’s Thorn Blackstone,” he replied while wiping down the bar. “Started coming here a month ago. He’s a regular now, and everybody’s been panting after him. He chooses a different guy ever night, and he must be a great lay because they always want more, but he never leaves with anybody twice, that I’ve seen. Doesn’t seem to have a big wardrobe, ‘cause I’ve seen that outfit a lot over the past month. Not that I care. He looks good, no matter what he wears. Don’t know if he’s a rent-boy. Haven’t heard anybody say anything about that.”

“Huh.” I narrowed my eyes as I watched the young man, how easily he reeled men in, gave them a little taste, then moved on to the next guy. He didn’t seem to really enjoy it, though he put on a good show. His actions were a bit frantic, almost…desperate. Like he had to do this in order to…

Oh, no.

I suddenly understood. And then all hell broke loose.

A fight was going down on the dance floor between Thorn and this bruiser of a guy who apparently didn’t take rejection well. The brute was using Thorn as a punching bag, though Thorn gave as good as he got. I knew where that kind of rage and fear came from, and it made me angry and sad at the same time.

Fred came around the bar and joined me to help break up the men, since all the other guys were simply standing there, shouting encouragement for one man or the other. Fred pulled Thorn away from the idiot, then we showed that fool the error of his ways before tossing him out of the bar.

When I returned, Thorn was sitting on the floor, one arm wrapped around his ribs, face battered, and shirt ruined beyond repair. I kneeled next to him, careful not to touch, and waited for him to look at me.

“I want to take you to the hospital,” I said, trying to catch my breath as eyes so pale and translucent stared at me in disbelief. Then the anger set in.