The musty smell, backed by a faint hint of piss, permeated everything. So did the noise of announcements over a loudspeaker system, and the rumble of diesel engines. It was warm in the bus station all but for the drafts admitted by the comings and goings of passengers through the many doors. Mike had found himself a chair in an out of the way corner and managed to catch a nap, or rather a series of naps. He had gone on for as long as he could. Angelene had offered to let him stay with her, but there was about as much chance of that happening as there was his sprouting wings. Her reassurances that it was a legitimate offer did nothing to persuade him. Mike had even refused her offer to put him up somewhere away from her.

“That stubbornness is going to get you into some real trouble one of these days,” she said, in the tone of a parent resigned to the misbehavior of their willful child.

“You let me worry about that,” he had replied before walking away in search of a place to rest. Mike was already afraid of how much he owed for her help. Though Angelene had said nothing to that effect, he was pretty sure she wasn’t the sort who did things just for the satisfaction of helping someone else. After he left, he didn’t know where she had gone and he was much too tired to care. Besides, she could take care of herself quite easily. As he slouched down in the seat, he realized they had made no plans where to meet up the next day. She had found him once, she could do it again.

Now his sleep was being disturbed. Something was poking him in the shoulder incessantly. If it was that guy asking him for another quarter he was going to tell him to fuck off. It wasn’t.

“C’mon, snap out of it,” Angelene said.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I brought you a little appetizer before breakfast,” she said holding out a small bag and a heavy paper cup.

Mike started to take the items and then stopped. Angelene snorted with amusement.

“What, you think it’s poisoned? I could eliminate you in a million ways that would be a lot easier for me. Sheesh, try to do a guy a favor....”

Mike accepted the items with a mumbled “Thanks.” The scent of the doughnut and coffee temporarily replaced the unpleasant odors of his surroundings.

“Nice place you got here,” Angelene said, looking around. Mike remained silent but shot her a look.

“Oh, lighten up. I found something last night that’ll really interest you,”

“What?” Mike asked.

“First breakfast, then I‘ll show you.”

*********************

Micky dangled in the air a bit before letting go and dropping onto the pavement, staggering as he landed. A quick glance around revealed some empty boxes and crates he could use to get back up to the ladder hanging beneath the fire escape. Micky had seen several evictions and now it was finally his problem. If he didn’t come up with the rent by three o’clock, there would be a big padlock on the door and an eviction notice tacked on for good measure. He had prepared for this possibility by hiding a butter knife to use against the window lock if necessary. If he was careful, he could easily get back in, grab his stuff and disappear. Micky was concerned but not really scared. He knew he could do it because he had practiced. It was amazing what talents one developed out of necessity. He really didn’t think it would be a big deal, though. It finally seemed as though things were evening out for him.

Today he had an actual audition. Micky could barely contain his nervous energy which was why he was out so early. There was no way he could hang around the room until the afternoon with nothing to do, plus it seemed wise to be away incase the manager came looking for him. He started walking and instead of continuing in his usual direction, he went left into a part of the neighborhood he had never explored. It would be a good way to kill some time. He kept his eyes downcast, on the lookout for change as he made his way along. His stomach growled loudly, bringing on a brief bit of guilt. The apples he had stolen from a stand outside a corner grocery had worn off almost as soon as he had finished eating them, and that had been the evening before. Stealing yesterday, maybe some breaking and entering tonight and then skipping out on his rent. This audition had better work out or there was no telling what he would become.

*********************

“So what is it?” Mike demanded.

“Patience. We’re almost there.” Angelene said, unconcerned.

Mike could hardly stand not knowing what was going on, though the walk would do him good after the immense breakfast she had insisted he eat. He was trying to guard his thoughts but it was difficult. Oddly, Angelene wasn’t saying much. She seemed to be focusing hard on the business at hand and not giving him much attention, not that Mike minded that a bit.

“This is it,” she said. They had come to a small building. Mike followed her closely as she entered without slowing her pace. He didn’t even get a chance to read the sign to see what kind of business it was. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dimness after having the bright morning sun in his face. His vision cleared and he glanced at his surroundings. Mike was surrounded by shelves and counters piled with all manner of junk and treasure. A pawn shop. Why was this important? He looked around more as he went to see what Angelene was doing. It was dusty in there. It was lazily drifting about in the long shafts of light streaming through a window. On another wall were several instruments. Guitars hung by their necks like slaughtered fowl. The association made him feel cold inside, like a bad omen. Fuck that. He was not a psychic and never had been. He needed to get his mind back on the reason they were there. Rounding a corner revealed Angelene standing over a ! glass display case, smiling that triumphant, evil smile he knew so well, while the proprietor looked on. As Mike drew closer, the contents of the case became visible. It was full of jewelry and other sparkly odds and ends. Angelene looked up at him, and tapped the glass with a bright red fingernail. Nestled in the folds of black velvet and surrounded by like items were two rings. One had a round, engraved area and the other was a monogram: MD.

“These two rings right here, how long ago did they come in?” Mike asked.

“About a week or two ago, I think,” the man replied. “You a cop or something? Because I run an honest business. Everything is on the level.”

“No, we’re just looking for the guy that brought these in,”

“I think I remember him. Young fella, seemed real upset about having to hock his stuff. I didn‘t think he was going to go through with it.” Suddenly he got a look of grand inspiration and wandered off to the office.

“Enough chit chat,” Angelene grumbled.

“What are you doing?” Mike asked, uneasily.

“Relax, it’s cool.”

The shop owner came bustling back into the room with a large ring of keys. He fumbled around with them before selecting a little silver key and then unlocked the case and plucked the rings from their nest. They clinked a little as they were dropped into Angelene’s waiting hand.

“Where’s the paperwork?” she asked.

“Here you go,” the man replied, handing her a folded square of paper. “Have a nice day,” he said before going back to the office.

Angelene slipped a ring onto the index finger of each hand and then closed them into fists.

“Oh yes, this is A LOT better,” she said, again smiling in that way that gave Mike the creeps in spite of his hatred. As they left, she unfolded the form that was standard whenever an item was pawned. “We still have to do this the hard way,” she said, passing the thin paper to Mike. Micky had used the Beachwood address. Damn.

“Are you just gonna steal those?” Mike asked, gesturing toward her hands.

“What steal? He gave them to me. You saw it.”

“No, you fucked with his head and made him do it. That’s the same thing as stealing.”

“My, aren’t we preachy today? As I recall, YOU asked for MY help. If you don’t like my methods I can always leave,” She said, with a pointed stare.

“Alright, fine,” Mike said, responding with as few words as possible so as not to get himself into trouble. He was desperate, and now they had a better lead. He must put his objections aside.

“Wise decision.” The rings would speed this whole thing up. The beads worked but they were weak. Mike had worn them so much that it was more his mental/emotional signature that lingered instead of Micky’s. As she wandered the streets the night before, Angelene considered all of Mike’s feelings toward his missing friend. There wasn’t much choice as long as she had to wear the necklace. So the guy was really and truly in love. Fucking amazing. She herself had never believed in it, taking her fun when she wanted and leaving it at that. Mike did not hide the fact that he both despised and feared Angelene, and yet he was willing to ask for her help. All in the name of love. Ridiculous.

*********************

Harrison Giles III was considering the placement of the two table settings. He always liked things to be perfect for his guests, regardless of the nature of the visit. He made a few minute adjustments and then checked his watch. While the boy had said he would be there, sometimes they changed their minds. Giles wasn’t worried and was nearly certain he’d show up. When the older man had introduced himself as a talent scout, the naked hope on the young man’s face was impossible to miss. Giles was amazed at how the whole thing had just fallen into his lap.

*******

The day before had been spent aimlessly browsing a few upscale stores and then he had his driver take him to a tobacco shop that sat on the edge of a more questionable part of town. Giles was on good terms with the owner, who always had some of the finest Cuban cigars available for the right price. He had made his purchase and then stepped out onto the street, looking around for any possible prospects of another kind. Suddenly the door of the business beside the tobacco shop, a music store in fact, swung outward and a conversation could be plainly heard.

“I’m sorry, but if you don’t leave now I’m going to call the police,” a restrained voice said.

“But I’d be perfect for the job. I used to be in a band and everything!” another voice pleaded.

“I’m afraid this store doesn’t cater to YOUR kind of music, young man. Good day.”

And then Harrison saw rejected potential employee. A lovely young man slouched down the two steps to the walk, looking at the HELP WANTED sign in the window. “Thanks for nothing,” he muttered. The wind ruffled his curly hair and the slant of the afternoon sun highlighted his features. They were sharp and the cheeks were a bit hollow, no doubt from a lack of regular meals. Hmmmm.... One of Giles’ many talents was the ability to smell desperation the way a shark could smell blood.

He looked on as the boy sat down dejectedly on a bench, waited a few moments and then joined him.

“Excuse me young man,” Giles said, displaying his most formal manners, “I couldn’t help but overhear some of that.”

The boy merely looked at him.

“Did I hear you say you were a musician?”

“Yeah, I’m a singer and I play drums, or I used to anyway,” he said with a shrug.

“Well, then, this rejection may turn out to be one of the luckiest things that ever happened to you. My name is Harrison Giles the third and I am an independent talent scout.” He said, reaching into an interior pocket of his overcoat and producing a business card.

“I’m Micky,” the boy said distractedly, not taking his eyes from the card that had been handed to him. Oh yes, he was desperate alright.

“I am always on the lookout for new talent. Would you be interested in an audition?”

Micky looked at him with such a smile, the almond shaped eyes sparkling, that the old man felt his heart skip a beat. The boy was absolutely stunning.

“Would I?!”

“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” Giles chuckled. “I’m staying at the Reynolds Plaza while I’m in town. Come up to the penthouse suite about two tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then,” Micky said, grasping Giles’ hand in a firm shake, still smiling.

*******

A quiet knock at the door brought him back to the present. “Yes, Charles?” he said to the man peering at him from around the door.

“Your guest has arrived, mister Giles,”

“Very good. I’ll be with him in a moment.”

Charles nodded and went back out to the living room. It was always the same. Giles would lure some unsuspecting kid back with who knew what kind of lies and then put the moves on him. Amazing. Charles had no idea how the old goat could tell. More often than not, the young men he brought back would end up staying around as “traveling companions.” At least until Giles grew tired of them. Charles informed this latest guest that his host would be with him momentarily, and then went on to wait outside the door to the suite. It wouldn’t do for room service or the maids to walk in on this scene. He wouldn’t be out here for long. Apparently not much was required on the first visit. Still, what did he care? It was easy money, just this and driving Giles around. There were worse ways to make a living.

Micky sat on the sofa taking in his surroundings. The scent of fresh cut flowers drifted to him from an arrangement on a nearby table but it was mostly overpowered by the smell of food, steak to be exact. He squeezed his stomach, trying to quiet it as it let out an audible rumble.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Giles said as he entered the room and took a chair opposite the sofa.

*********************

It was amazing how time could slip past. Micky had been sitting there telling Giles about himself and answering questions for over an hour. Some of it didn’t really seem to apply to singing but maybe it was just to put him at ease before he performed. As though sensing Micky’s thoughts, Giles suddenly stood up and briskly rubbed the palms of his hands together.

“I think we have the preliminaries out of the way, now let’s get down to business. If you’ll come into my office...” he said, gesturing toward the doorway. Micky stood up and made his way toward the other room, unaware that the other man was thoroughly enjoying the view. And what a view! It was enough to break your heart. The boy had such sinuous, easy movement without even trying, and the tight pants left very little to the imagination.

Micky entered the room with a brief flash of deja vu that left almost as quickly as it appeared. It was a bedroom, but in one corner was a large desk strewn with all kinds of papers and files, so technically one could call it an office. Giles closed the door and then joined his guest.

“Is there any particular song you want to hear? Micky asked.

Giles sighed thoughtfully as he sat down on the edge of his desk. “Micky, I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest about why I asked you here,”

“You’re not a talent scout?”

“I do have friends in the entertainment business and now and then I may make a recommendation. But, actually I am a businessman with many interests abroad and the reason I asked you here was because I’m looking for a traveling companion.”

Micky looked confused for a moment as the disappointment settled in again. On the other hand, it might be worth hearing out. Things weren’t really working out for him here anyway.

“What’s a traveling companion do?”

Giles smiled as he answered. Oh, this boy was just too precious! “It’s not difficult at all. You accompany me on my trips, mainly. Sometimes I may require that you run a few errands or call to make travel reservations and the like.

Nodding as he listened, Micky didn‘t think it sounded like a bad idea, but something was off.

“Why didn’t you just say so? I mean, why all the secrecy? “ he asked, giving voice to the thoughts.

“Well you see, that brings us to the other part of the job. You will also be providing me with ... entertainment, and I had to make sure you were right for the job.” Giles said.

“Entertainment?“ Micky asked, suspiciously. Giles’ rapt attention was starting to make him nervous.

“Yes, now get undressed and let’s see if you’re right for the job,”

For just a split second Micky looked thoroughly shocked. “I...I’m sorry mister Giles, this isn’t my kind of scene, I mean....”

Giles sat there smiling just a bit and flipping his hand back and forth in an unconcerned wave. They were all skittish in the beginning and he had to gradually win their trust. It was nothing new and practice had made him a master.

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you, in fact I won’t so much as touch you. All I want is a look. No one will know.” He waited to see the reaction. The threat of violence made the answer clear, as did when his prey ran away with as much dignity as they could muster. But, when there was hesitation, he still had a chance.

“I’ll make it very much worth your while,” Giles continued, as he held up his bony hand that had a neat roll of bills tucked between the first two fingers like a green cigarette. “You could really use this, couldn‘t you?”

That much was true. Micky was desperate and torn. The idea of doing this sickened him, but so did the idea of living penniless on the streets. The old guy had a point, though, no one would know. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done worse things in front of an audience. And incredibly, but hesitantly, he began to unbutton his shirt.

Giles was practically beside himself. The thrill of the chase always had that effect. He was a tiny bit disappointed that he had to resort to cash, it was so much nicer when he could do it through the sheer force of his personality, but he didn’t want this one to get away. And it looked as though he wouldn’t.

Micky was out of clothes and trying not to lose his nerve. It surely wouldn’t take the old creep long to look would it? As soon as it was over he could take the money and run. He couldn’t quite force himself to make eye contact as he stood there trying to mask his apprehension. Being instructed to turn around helped to lessen the feeling of eyes boring into him. It helped maybe too much. Micky was appalled to find his body betraying him again as he felt the stirrings of a hard on. He tried to think of anything that would make it go away, but it had a mind of its own.

“Alright, you can turn around,” Giles said, and was not entirely surprised to find his acquisition trying unsuccessfully to hide an erection. He had seen this before. Nervousness could manifest itself in some strange ways.

“Well, well. See? That wasn’t so bad, and now you have the opportunity to earn yourself a handsome bonus.” Micky only looked at him with a mixture of confusion and impatience. “If you take care of that right now, I’ll double this,” Giles said, tapping the bills against the palm of his hand. This would be the defining moment.

“You’ll stay over there, right?” Micky asked quietly, after several seconds of thoughtful silence.

“Of course, and you can make yourself comfortable,” came the reply

It was pretty much impossible that he could sink any lower than this, Micky was thinking, as he sat down on the edge of the bed behind him. Ok, maybe if he was selling it on the street, but really there wasn’t a whole lot of difference. He was actually considering becoming this man’s whore. If his mom could see him now. For just a second, he remembered the time when he was five and had been caught playing doctor with the girl next door. His mom had been pretty pissed and that was nothing next to this. He hadn’t spoken to his family since he had run away. It seemed unlikely that they wouldn’t know what had happened. Surely his mother would have called the pad after not hearing from him for all this time. Did the others tell her what had gone on? Maybe. Mike could be pure evil when he was angry. But what if they hadn’t? He was convinced that his mom would know something was badly wrong just by looking at him, and his stepfather, whom he had never gotten along with, would be ha! ppy to disown him entirely if the truth were known. But none of this was here nor there. Micky lay back on the bed and began to touch himself, gently at first but then the self consciousness began to fade under the power of old memories.

Giles looked on, totally mesmerized. This acquisition would make him the envy of his circle of secret “friends” in Europe. The boy was gorgeous. His lean body was stretched out full length, legs apart with one hanging over the side of the bed as a hand stroked the cock that had deepened to a dark rose color while the other hand gently massaged the balls underneath. His breathing became more rapid as he started raising his hips to meet his own rhythm. Micky was about to come but he wouldn’t give all of himself away, clenching his jaw to prevent any outcry, he felt the hot, sticky fluid jet out and land on his stomach in a heavy burst.

*********************

“Are you losin’ your touch or what?” Mike asked. They had been wandering around all day, and he was growing impatient.

“I can show you, if you’d like,” Angelene replied, eyes closed. She was sitting on a bench, trying to get a fix on what direction they needed to move in.

“What’s the holdup?”

“You try sorting through this,” she said and leveled a finger in Mike’s direction. Instantly his head was filled with a sound like thousands of radio stations trying to hit the same frequency at once. There was no music, it was just a voices. A wide assortment. Bored, angry, confused, distracted, ecstatic, and everything on either end and in between. Mercifully it faded away quickly and he was left with only his own thoughts.

“You can hear Micky through all that?”

“Off and on. It’s more a feeling, though. This stuff makes it a lot easier to single him out, ” she replied, wiggling her fingers to signify the rings.

“So what exactly ARE you feeling?”

“We’re in the right area. He’s not here right now but this is his home base,”

“So we just sit here and wait?”

“You catch on fast. That’s about the best we can do for right now. Micky is a little harder to track this time. He doesn’t quite seem to be himself and he’s moving around a lot. By the time we got to wherever he is, he’d be gone again. But this is where he lives. He’ll be back.”

‘I wonder if that cat is having any luck,’ Mike thought, annoyed, as he sat down to wait.

**********************

Charles looked into the rearview mirror and uneasily eyed his passenger. The kid was not looking well. There was no telling what had went on while he had been out in the hall, but from the smug look on his employer’s face when he came back in, it went well. That was none of his concern. His only other part in this adventure was to get this guy home. The neighborhood was getting worse the farther they drove. Suddenly, the kid leaned forward over the back of the seat.

“Could you let me out here, please? I can walk the rest of the way,” Micky said.

“Suit yourself, kid,” Charles said, relieved that he wouldn’t be cleaning up some kind of mess. The guy really looked ill.

Micky watched the blue Imperial cruise away from the curb. It was something of a relief to be out of it. He wasn’t sure where he was exactly, but it had to be close to his hotel. He started walking and then broke into a sprint to the closest alley where his entire dinner was deposited behind a bunch of broken crates. Looking at that mess made him do it two more times. Gradually Micky got himself under control. He had been feeling like puking ever since the end of his “performance”. After that they had had dinner, which turned out to be roast instead of steak and Giles gave him further details of what the job would involve. Essentially, it sounded as though Micky would be a combination errand boy and plaything. Fuck that. No way. He would take his money and go. He had no intention of showing up tomorrow to begin a new life. Not THAT life anyway. Maybe he would just go on down to the bus station and get a ticket to anywhere. That sounded too good, to just take off to someplace! where no one knew him. But for now, he had to go get his stuff.

He walked back out to the sidewalk and was surprised to see someone waiting for him.

“You ok hon?” asked a six foot blond. Micky was trying not to stare. It was a man in some extremely flashy drag.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.

“Are you sure? You don’t look so good.”

“I’ll be alright,” Micky said and then changed the subject. “Do you know where Lewiston street is from here?”

“Five blocks that way,”

“Great,”

“That where you live?”

“Just till tomorrow,” Micky called over his shoulder, unaware two more sets of eyes were watching him.

The owner of the first set was a familiar face. Ritchie, who had been one of the thugs that had pinned Micky to the wall while Blade robbed him. The other set of eyes were yellow and sharply observant. Lucas began to purr with satisfaction as he looked down from a low roof and saw the human his mistress had sent him to find.

Both of the watchers melted into the shadows and continued their business.

**********************

Yes, a fresh beginning far from here would be just the thing. But where to go? It would have to be a city of some sort. Small town living would make him crazy. There was plenty of action in New York or Chicago, but it got so cold there. Maybe New Orleans or Miami. That would be better. Hot weather and beaches and not a soul there that knew a thing about him. There were a lot more people about in this area. Several of them were hookers who didn’t so much give Micky the time of day. Maybe they somehow sensed he was one of them. He didn’t notice anything about them that felt desperate, only hopeless. He wasn’t hopeless, not yet at least. A new locale had to be the answer... or would everything repeat itself? Twilight had faded to night and the streets were not so brightly lit. Further up the street Micky could see the erratically flashing sign on the hotel and feeble light seeping from an alley that was between him and his destination. He was just starting to think about how th! e hotel’s sign seemed less ragged from this direction than from the side he usually saw it from when a familiar voice startled him.

“How ya doin’ pretty boy?” Blade said.

Micky tried to run but was tripped and then hauled back easily.

“That’s not very sociable. You might hurt someone’s feelings,” Micky heard, right before a fist connected with his face. He stumbled backward but was caught by several pairs of hands. Please not this again. Another attempt to run was no good.

This looked even worst than the last time. In the weak light from a single bulb he could make out at least six guys. Shit.

“You let me down, pretty boy,” Blade said, with mock disappointment as he drew within striking distance again.

“What?” Micky asked, still holding his hands over his bleeding lip.

“You lied to me,”

“Huh? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You said you weren’t one of those Brier Street fags, and then Ritchie sees you over there getting out of big, fancy cars and hanging around with those freaks. I hate liars, pretty boy,”

Micky watched him warily, as though that would do any good. “But, if you hand over your money, I can overlook it this one time,”

“I don’t have any,”

“Bullshit,” Blade replied, and then suddenly he unloaded two fast punches to Micky’s midsection. Micky was able to partially block the first shot but the second sent him to the ground that was strewn with all manner of trash. The stench of rotten garbage was the least of his concerns as a savage kick caught him in the ribs. Micky felt a hand squeeze into his pocket.

There was a round of whistles and comments as Blade held up the roll of bills.

“Well would ya look at this? Damn, boy, those sick fuckers must love you,”

‘If anyone loved me I wouldn’t be in this mess,’ Micky thought, as he started to get up, holding his side. It was a goofy thing to think, but it was the way he felt.

“You’re not going anyplace,”

“You‘ve got my money, can‘t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“Nope. ‘Fraid not.”

The gang that had mostly been observers began to move closer to Micky and surround him. The circle pressed closer when a sudden noise stopped them all.

An inhuman squall echoed off the walls. It was followed up with a high growling and another squall. It was a cat, crouched low to the ground, ears back, teeth exposed.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” a voice called mockingly, and they all seemed to forget about Micky for a moment.

“What the fuck’s his problem?” asked one of the group.

“I don’t really give a shit,” said Ritchie, as he picked up a few chunks of a broken brick. He threw the first and it whizzed just past the cat’s head. It didn’t even flinch.

The next attempt was better. The dusty red projectile hit the pavement just in front of the animal, causing it to slink away a few steps but never taking his yellow eyes from them. The third throw bounced and grazed the cat’s back. It hissed balefully one last time and then ran away.

“Now, let’s get back to...” Blade said, turning back to Micky, and was abruptly cut off as his prey punched him in the face as hard as he could. Blade staggered back and was quickly set upon again. Micky was enraged. His face and side hurt, he was coated with all manner of who knew what kind of crap from the ground, and then they have the gall to take his money again. He wasn’t about to just give it up after all the degradation he had put himself through.

The rest of the thugs looked on, stunned. It appeared as though the skinny little loser might actually kick Blade’s ass. That was no good. If you attacked one of them, you were taking them all on. They began to move in closer.

As a child Micky had read The Call Of the Wild, and one of the parts that stuck in his mind was a scene in which two dogs were in a life or death fight against one another. The outsider versus the leader of the pack. The rest of the pack held no allegiance to either fighter, they simply went after the loser when it became obvious who that was going to be. If people were the same, Micky might have been feeling a bit of relief. Incredible as it seemed to the others, he was winning. He had never been so angry and it went a long way in making up for his lack of fighting skill. Not that he was getting away unscathed. Blade landed many and varied shots. But they had nearly worn themselves out and Micky now found himself sitting on top of Blade with his hands around his throat, squeezing for all he was worth. It didn’t last long. He was so focused on the job at hand, he didn’t realize the others had come in behind him until he felt himself being yanked away.

*******

Mike was starting to feel uneasy. Twilight was long gone and the old adage of ”they only come out at night” seemed to apply more fully here than anyplace else he had ever seen and that included the Sunset Strip. Angelene was still sitting on the bench, paying him no mind. That quickly changed.

She suddenly leaped to her feet. “C’mon, we have to go!”

“What is it,”

“Never mind, just go,” she said, already doing the same and leaving him to catch up.

They ran down the sidewalks and across streets, dodging people and cars. Mike was having a little trouble keeping up. How did she move so fast, and in heels, yet? He thought maybe she was beginning to tire and then he saw why she was slowing down. It was the cat again. Pet and mistress stared silently at one another, before Angelene gave him a command in a tone that promised unspeakable things for someone. “Show me,” she said, and they were off again, this time with the animal to guide them.

*******

Could he have been so stupid as to think he might actually get out of this ok? Micky found himself on the ground again. Everything hurt and one eye was swollen closed. Even with just one he could see that this was probably it. The rest of the gang had had a field day with Micky while Blade was helped to his feet and given a chance to recover. Now he had him self together again, but he looked crazy. Murderously crazy. Micky was jerked to his feet and supported by a couple of guys as Blade advanced on him bringing out a familiar object. The butterfly knife had never looked so deadly. A few of the guys began to move away. Beating the shit out of this fag was one thing, but killing him was something all together different.

“Say goodnight, bitch,” Blade said quietly and drew his arm back for the final strike.

“What is it with you guys and that word?” a new voice demanded.

Everyone looked to see that the cat was back but this time he had brought along a guy and some chick.

“Who the fuck are you?” Blade asked.

“Why, we’re very close friends of “Pretty Boy” there,” Angelene said, nodding towards Micky who was too out of it at the moment to realize what was going on.

She had plucked the nickname from Blade’s mind along with everything else she needed to know. The very stupid were always a quick read.

“Yeah, well you better get lost unless you want some of the same,”

“Mmmm...no, I don’t think so, Terrence,”

Blade was momentarily confused by the use of his real name, but quickly recovered.

“I said take a hike, bitch,”

“I’d advise you to stop calling me that,”

“Blade put his hands on his hips and said very deliberately, “Don’t like that, huh? How about ‘twat‘ ?”

As the others laughed at this sparking wit, Mike shook his head and looked away. If only this dumbass knew what kind of mess he was digging himself into.

She began to advance on them, and much to their surprise they found that none of them could so much as twitch. Micky slid to the ground again as his captors lost their grip.

“You’re a regular riot, aren’t you?”

“Hey, what is this? I can’t move,”

“Yeah, no shit, but lets get back to the issue at hand, shall we?”

***

Micky was hurting worse than ever and now he decided he must be hallucinating. Gentle hands turned him onto his back and through his one good eye he could see Mike leaning over him looking both pissed and concerned.

“Mike is that you?”

“Yeah, Mick. Can you get up? We really need to get out of here,”

Supported by his friend, Micky managed to get up and limp a few paces away, before turning to check out what was going on.

“Now the way I see it, you beat the hell out of our friend, stole his money, and then personally insulted me, not to mention that guy over there throwing stuff at my cat. Just how do you plan to make good on all that?” Angelene asked, as Lucas curled himself against Ritchie’s legs mockingly.

“Fuck you, bitch,” Blade said, still defiant.

“Oh wait, I know!” She said, clasping her hands in front of her cheerfully while ignoring the insult.

The alley had gone silent. Everyone watched as Blade turned the knife around so that the business end was down and then quickly sank it into his thigh several times in rapid succession. A few of them looked away as their leader sank to his knees, eyes bulging and tendons standing out in his neck as he screamed and screamed.

“Shut up,” Angelene said, planting her foot on his chest and then savagely kicking him onto his back. “Now, I believe you have something that doesn’t belong to you,”

“It’s in my inside pocket, take it, take it!”

Angelene helped herself and then handed the bills to Micky. He stuffed them into his pocket and winced as she put a hand to his cheek.

“Wow they really did a number on you, didn’t they sweet thing?” She said to Micky before turning back to face the wounded gang leader. “I think you also owe him an apology,”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry!” Blade said, blubbering as he clutched his bloody leg.

“Alright guys, take off. I got business here you want no part of,”

Mike nodded. She was right about that. The less he knew about it the happier he would be, and Micky ’s injuries needed some attention.

“Thanks for the help,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, and then added the part he’d been fearing and suspecting all along, “Maybe you can do ME a favor one day,”

“Yeah,” Mike said, noncommittally.

“Oh wait, I almost forgot. Give me your hand,”

He hesitated then held it out. Angelene touched it with the first three fingers of her right hand and Mike jumped as a feeling resembling a very strong static electricity charge popped in his palm.

“I think you’ll need that to get this mess straightened out. Don’t worry, it’ll wear off overnight, probably, now get going,” she said, shooing them away before Mike could ask what she had done to him.

He and Micky moved slowly to the end of the alley. Once they were back on the sidewalk, Mike looked back and wasn’t entirely shocked to see that the alley appeared empty. He heard a faint, almost unnoticeable scream. It would have been totally missed if he hadn’t known to listen for such a thing. He shivered just a little and they began moving down the street. What was a surprise was finding the elderly Harley parked at the curb several yards away. That wasn’t where he had left it, but he wasn’t complaining.

*********************

The night had grown cold enough that it would soon be impossible to stay on the bike. The wind generated by forward motion chilled Mike to the bone. Micky wasn’t faring much better, despite being against Mike‘s back and holding on tightly. Just minutes into the ride out of town, it became apparent what Angelene had done.

***

They had gone a few blocks and made a turn onto another street.

“Hey, stop up here at this market, will you?” Micky yelled, pointing to a darkened storefront.

The cycle came to a stop in front. “It looks closed,” Mike said.

“Yeah, I know.” said Micky, as he painfully got up from the seat. When he put a hand on his friend’s shoulder to steady himself, Mike had a sudden flash of intuition.

He watched as Micky stiffly moved to the closed door and crouched to shove something under it. Although he couldn’t see from his position back at the curb, Mike knew exactly what it was and why. Micky was carefully shoving a couple of dollar bills under the door to pay for the apples he had stolen the day before. It was a small gesture, but at least his conscience could be clean about one thing. Mike was certain that this was true, but how did he know? The whole scene had just leaped into his mind out of nowhere. Micky came back and climbed on again. As he slipped his arms around Mike, he said nothing. He didn’t need to. As soon as he touched him, Mike was virtually overwhelmed by confusion and despair and he could almost feel Micky‘s physical pain.

***

No, they wouldn’t get home tonight, but that was fine. There was a lot to sort out before they tried to explain what was going on to their roommates, if they explained at all. A small motel was the only place close out on the coastal highway and it was near a diner. A dimly lit ’vacancy’ sign welcomed them.

The room wasn’t anything fancy but it was clean and soon to be warm. Mike busied himself with finding the heating controls of the window unit while keeping an eye on Micky. He had no idea of where to begin, and wasn’t anxious to get started. The younger man sat there on the corner of one bed, head down, looking forlorn. He brought his hands up to run them across his clothes. Now that there was no wind, the stink of whatever crap he was coated in became intolerable.

“I gotta clean up,” he mumbled, disappearing into the tiny bathroom.

The soap and hot water washed away all the filth but it did nothing for the guilt and self loathing. Maybe he’d have been better off if those guys had killed him outright. At least he wouldn’t have to explain himself to Mike. And why was he here anyway? Did Angelene make him do it? What would be the point of that? Micky turned off the water and grabbed a towel to wrap around himself and then realized he had nothing else. They had left without his belongings, such as they were, and he could clearly smell the odor from the clothes he had just removed. Screw it. He’d deal with that later.

The problem was solved for him. When he entered the room a clean pair of jeans and an old flannel shirt were waiting for him, no doubt spares Mike had brought along, as well as something wrapped in a twisted towel

“I got you some ice for that eye,” Mike said, gesturing toward the towel and then turning to look out the window between a small gap in the pulled drapes so as to give his friend some measure of privacy. Considering what had happened the last time they were together, Mike figured that he couldn’t get far enough away to suit Micky.

He listened to the rustling of the fabric and then adjusted the drapes a little before turning around. Micky was laying on his back with his legs dangling off the end of the bed. He held the towel-wrapped ice to his eye. With the grime and dried blood washed off, his injuries didn’t look near as bad. He hadn’t bothered to button his shirt and the newly forming bruises and scrapes were beginning to show all along his midsection.

“Wow, are you sure nothing’s broken?“ Mike asked, eyeing the marks.

“Yes, I’m ok,” Micky said, and that was all.

The silence went on and on before Mike finally got the courage to start asking questions. “What was all that about?”

“Those guys had it in for me from the beginning. I don’t know what their problem was,” Micky lied. His voice was flat and neutral. From his contact on the ride there, and his close proximity at the moment, Mike sensed that this was not the same man he had known before the whole mess was dumped upon them. Angelene had been right. Micky seemed tired and resigned and hardened somehow. It hurt to think that he was responsible for this change.

“That’s not what I meant, really,” Micky only looked at him.

“Why did you run away in the first place?” Mike asked in a soft voice as he sat down on the bed beside Micky.

“You’re kidding. Why do you think? I knew you’d be sick at the sight of me after what I did,” Micky said angrily, as he sat up. “And why did you come looking for me, anyway? Feel like kicking my ass since you didn‘t get to before?“

Mike drew back a little, shocked at the anger. Not only that, but did Micky actually blame himself for what had happened to them?

“What are you talking about? That was nobody’s fault. You know as well as I do that we were forced.” Mike said, placing a hand on Micky’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well I could have put up more of a fight. I could have done something....”

“And what? Get yourself killed, maybe?”

“It’d be better than having you hate me,” Micky said quietly, averting his eyes.

“I don’t hate you. I wouldn’t have been trying to find you all this time if I did.”

“You’d have been better off to stay away.”

“How can you say that? You’re my best friend, man.”

“I used to be. If you knew what I’ve been up to, I think you’d change your mind,” Micky said, pulling away from the hand on his shoulder.

Even with the contact broken, Mike was still getting a strong sense of Micky’s thoughts. He couldn’t let him stop this close to finding out the whole truth.

“I don’t care what you’ve done. Do you think I'd have asked that witch for help finding you if I did? I just want you to come home.”

Micky looked at him for several seconds. “I can’t, Mike. You and the others are better off without me.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve been looking for you ever since you left and so have Davy and Peter.”

“Didn’t you tell them what happened?”

“Of course not. As far as they know you just took off, and that‘s not really a lie.”

Mike watched as Micky got up and started pacing around distractedly. That was a good sign. At least if he was confused that meant he was considering it. It was a tempting proposition. He missed his old life terribly as well as his friends. But things were different now. HE was different. And above all there was the secret, the truth of which he could barely admit to himself. Micky sat down beside Mike.

“I can’t do it, I’m sorry,” said Micky.

“That is such bullshit! What’s stopping you?” Mike said, angrily.

“Just trust me.”

“No! After all this you think I’m just going to go away? Huh uh. I won’t go till you tell me why!”

“I don’t have to tell you anything!” Micky said, and started to get up. His wrist was suddenly squeezed in a firm grip and he was pulled back down. That did it. He began to struggle and thrash around in a bid to get away. It wasn’t really much of a fight. For all the resistance Micky offered, he was still extremely tired and sore from the previous beating and he didn’t want to make things worse by actually throwing a punch. Mike was becoming more angry but was determined to have the truth and to hold on to his temper enough to not hurt Micky any more. The tussle came to an end when Micky was finally pinned on his back with Mike sitting on his chest and holding both hands down on either side of his head.

“I’ve got all night, and I’m not movin’ till you tell me what happened.” Mike said breathing heavily. Micky, also winded, just turned his head stubbornly and said nothing.

They sat that way for a long time. Now and then one of them would squirm minutely to get more comfortable, but that was all. Mike was trying to get exactly what was on his friend’s mind, but anger and frustration were blocking his unskilled attempts. He was certain that fear was present once in a while, but why? It wouldn’t matter to him if Micky had killed someone, not really. Suddenly, Micky made one last attempt to get free. Mike was so intent on trying to read his thoughts that he felt the attempt in his mind before it actually happened.

“All right! All right!,” Micky said, sagging down into the blankets, “I’ll tell you.”

And slowly, he began to pour out the story of what had happened since the night he had slipped away. His experience with Giles came out in fits and starts with Micky watching for the expression of disgust he felt certain was coming.

“And that’s when you showed up,” he said, finishing the story

Mike looked at him in shock and moved aside. “Oh, Mick.” he said , and that was all.

“See? I told you.” He could have left it at that but then some perverse need made him continue as if it were a contest in debauchery. “And you want to know something worse?”

“What?” Mike asked, still wearing the shocked expression.

“You know that night with Angelene?” Mike nodded in response.

“Well...even though it was forced...there were parts I LIKED! What about that? Micky said, in a hoarse voice that was rapidly losing strength and beginning to wobble. “Is that enough to convince you?”

For a second or two, it felt as though Mike’s heart stopped. Could it be true? He was willing to bury his feelings forever if that’s what it took to get Micky home again, but now....

“No answer for that, huh? Why don’t you just go?” Micky said, turning away, hating the teary sound creeping into his words. He waited for the outrage or violence and was ready to welcome it, to finally live the nightmare and get it over with. A gentle hand on the back of his neck only confused him more.

Mike scooted closer and sat beside Micky with his eyes downcast.

“I can’t, Mick.” he said, in a voice not much louder than a whisper and then he leaned in slowly and placed a light kiss on the corner of Micky’s mouth, taking care not to hurt the bruised skin. “You weren’t the only one who liked it.”

What the hell? This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Mike was supposed to be enraged and then proceed to mangle him. But this? This was...was what, exactly? It didn’t feel real to him. Micky could feel his brain running in circles as frantic as the beats of his heart. He could probably run away and Mike wouldn’t try to stop him, but...he didn’t want to escape anymore. And then a hand was ever so carefully turning his head for another kiss, this one longer but still gentle and soft. The sort of kiss that demanded nothing and promised everything.

*********************

The night seemed impossibly long and still not long enough. In the dimly lit room the friends became lovers. Mike feared it might be his only chance, and so wanted to be able to express all the feelings he had been forced to hide and deny for so long. His strong hands moved over the various cuts, scrapes and bruises with a weightless caress. In the midst of his happiness, bitter anger surfaced again and again as he looked at the wounds. There was some measure of comfort in knowing that the tormentors would be made to pay an enormous fine for what they had done. Whatever power he had been given was fading but enough remained to tell him that Micky was happy for the first time in a long time. Mike had every intention of keeping him that way. He gently massaged the body he had so often fantasized about noticing how the muscles stood out more clearly because of the weight Micky had lost. He wanted to make everything all right, to fix it so that nothing came between them again.

Micky drifted in the hazy zone between sleep and wakefulness, all the while feeling the sensations of tender lips and loving hands touching him all over, finding all the right and secret spots, and making him want more. The sensation of warm breath against his neck as a hand moved expertly between his legs would be a part of his dreams for many nights to come. The sweet kisses were better than he had imagined when he was at his loneliest. After the lovemaking, he settled into in the protective arms of Mike who was still trying to express what he had a hard time saying. As he slid toward sleep, he heard the words he had feared earlier would never be applied to him again.

They were whispered against his ear and barely audible : “I love you, Micky.

*********************

It would be a good day for riding. The sun was warm and the day had a lot of promise. Mike stepped out of the room with the breakfast on his mind. Micky was in the shower (having hot water again was still quite a novelty to him.) Eggs and sausage and biscuits with lots of butter sounded very good. Mike just happened to glance over at his bike and stopped in his tracks. There was a small cardboard box perched on the seat. What was this? He approached it cautiously. There was an envelope taped to the top of the box and it was addressed to him. With a queasy feeling he opened it and was surprised to see Micky’s rings and the strand of beads as well as a note.

Good morning,

You guys took off so quick and I was so busy, I forgot to return this stuff. The box has Micky’s things from the hotel he was staying in. I guess you were in a hurry to get out of town, huh? It’s perfectly safe if you guys want to go back sometime. I can assure you that you won’t run into any of those thugs again. That is, unless you go to the mental hospital or the cemetery. As for me, I’m off to visit other places, but don’t worry. I’ll see you around.

Angelene