Saying Goodbye (17 page)

~

Jack sat on a commercial airliner in first class; Adam beside him, Steve across the aisle. Adam was working on his laptop, and Steve was sipping beer from the bottle.

The anxiety inside Jack was making him furious. The constant ups and downs of dealing with Mark wore him out.

For his own mental state, Jack should let Mark go. Let Steve handle him. Adam was stable, dependable, calm…

Life without Mark would allow Jack to focus on his career, settle down into a peaceful life in his and Adam’s beach house in Malibu.

This chronic Richfield bullshit was gnawing at him.

He loved Mark like a husband, like a lover, like a brother, but Mark could not be controlled or contained. He was literally a powder keg of dynamite surrounded by sparks.

Where Mark Antonious went, trouble followed.

Here
they were,
the three of them racing to LA again, after Mark.

Jack rubbed his eyes and checked his watch.

Fucking Billy. What was Mark doing with Billy? Duh. Gee, let me guess?

Jack glanced at Steve. Steve had finished the beer and
the bottle
was sitting on his tray table. Steve appeared exhausted, his eyes glazed, worn out.

Looking at Adam’s laptop, Jack could see him typing up a contract for one of his clients.

Using the button on the arm of the
seat
, Jack reclined
i
t so it was a lounge chair and closed his eyes.

He could feel his blood pressure pounding in his temples. It was possible to get a stroke worrying about Mark. Oh yes. The suicide attempts? They were not for show.

Mark Antonious Richfield did not want to be alive long enough to see himself fade
in
to obscurity. Jack figured Mark fancied himself more like a James Dean or Kurt Cobain character, dying young so he could be remembered for his youth and vitality.

Eventually
,
Mark’s determination to see
his own
end would win out. How long could the three of them
…
four if you counted Billy, keep watch? It was as if leaving Mark alone for any length of time was a sure
way
they would lose him.

Jack knew Mark well enough to know Mark resented it
, t
he constant coddling. No one had allowed Mark to grow up
; t
he pampering by his doting nannies
in contrast to
the coldness of his mother and brutality of his father. Was it any wonder the man was a wreck?

Trying to stretch his legs, Jack felt his feet hit something under the seat in front of him. Even first class seemed to have a lack of leg room for someone his size.

Adam peered at him for a moment,
and
then kept typing.

When Jack first laid eyes on Mark in college
;
Mark wearing that baseball uniform, tight white pants, his long hair
pulled into a ponytail,
flowing from under the cap
…
Jack was so smitten. Mark was simply the prettiest man he had ever seen.

Back then, in their
early
twenties, Jack would do anything to be with Mark. He was like a
starving
puppy and Mark kept dropping crumbs.

He should hate Mark for what he had done. Hate Mark for leading him on, pretending he was not gay, living with him and cock teasing him for years.
Watching Mark date women, get engaged to Sharon, helped
them plan their fucking wedding.

Then the fuc
ker meets Steve and marries him.

Jack rubbed his face in frustration. He could relive all that anger again and again if he let himself. But in the end
if Steve had not come into Mark’s life
,
Jack would
be sadd
led with Mark
,
a
suicidal model
that
starve
s
himself and
i
s addicted to valium and Botox.

He peeked at Adam.

No
,
thank you. You can have Mark, Steve
.

Jack was getting close to washing his hands of Mark. Being through with the anxiety, rushing to LA when Mark self-destructed for
…
what this time?

Jack stifled a mumble of why.
He probably fucked Sharpe
.

Billy taking Mark with him to see the SWAT team training? Hello?

Jack scoffed out loud and Adam looked at him again.

“What?” Adam asked.

“Nothing.” Jack pecked his lips
,
s
o grateful Adam was strong, smart,
and
stable.

Adam continued working.

For n
early tw
o decades Jack had lingered beside
Mark, accepted Mark’s terms constantly,
and
finally fucked the bastard when Mark felt guilty after neglecting Jack in college.

Now? Jack could fuck Mark any time he wanted to. Adam could as well. Of course, Adam didn’t give a shit. If it were up to Adam Lewis? He’d be happy with just one man.

Me
.

Jack thought about Mark trying to end their four-way sexual romps
, o
f Steve becoming possessive. At the time Jack went crazy, thinking he couldn’t live without Mark’s touch.

If Billy had Mark?
Fucked Mark?

Jack was done.
He hated Billy Sharpe. Fucking hated him.

How much more bullshit was Jack supposed to take from Mark?

Jack glanced at Steve. He was staring out of the window. No one was seated beside him.

Poor bastard. You’re the one who’s going to get hurt the most
.

Jack’s thoughts moved to Alexander.

How could they not?

The irony to Jack was that Alex could be trusted alone. Alone in Rome
.
Trusted not to cheat on his husband, trusted to not harm himself, to work hard, to do what he needed to do.
Alexander Richfield!

That sex-crazed
eighteen-year-
old nymph who seduced every one of his father’s friends
,
had matured into a responsible twenty-
four-year-
old married man.

Fuck
. Jack shook his head at his own thoughts. Never would Jack have predicted that. But Alex was not brought up by Milt and Leslie Richfield. Alex’s mother Iris Lehman had done all right. Even with a step-father who did not particularly like Alex, Alex became a real man when he stepped into the Richfield household. Yes, it took some taming, but Alex did it.

Billy Sharpe
…
did it.

Jack thought hard about what would become of Alexander if it was true, if Billy in fact, did fuck Mark.

He’d seen Alex go out on a tear
before
, hunting the biker bars for rough gods and muscle
studs.

Jack tried to imagine what Alex did with those macho men.

The ultimate sub? A wildcat under the sheets?

It’s on my bucket list.

Oh
,
yes
.
Jack had resisted Alex’s advances for years while Mark fretted.
But if Mark fucked Sharpe? All bets were off.

Again Jack glanced at Adam. Adam didn’t have to know.

Maybe Jack could head to Rome. He’d never been there. Adam was so busy with work…

Jack relaxed in the seat, imagining Alex
and him
alone in a hotel room.

~

Steve dabbed at the corner of his eye.

He stared out of the window trying to stop feeling the pangs of panic and the yearning to be immediately magically transported to his home in Bel Air. He knew he should have left when Mark did. Knew it.

He glanced at Jack
,
who was reclining in the seat, his eyes closed.

Jack stopped him. Jack thought not going after Mark was a good idea.

Yeah? Well, if Mark is dead, I will kill
you,
Jack!

Steve clenched his fists and then forced himself to relax. He had to trust Billy. Billy would watch over Mark.

He could imagine Mark begging Billy to bring him to a training session.

Steve tipped the bottle to his lips to get the last drop
of beer
. The flight attendant appeared beside him. “Would you like another one?”

“No. I’m good.” He gave her the empty bottle and put his tray table away. First class
…
Learjets…

Steve was not a rich man. His husband was.

Fucking heir to billions, his father’s legacy, Richfield International
…
yet Mark would never see a penny
.

Didn’t matter. Mark did so well in his modeling jobs, Steve could quit Parsons and Company, could retire at thirty-six.

He
,
also
,
would collect a small pension from the LAPD when he turned fifty-three. It wouldn’t be much but their hous
e in Bel Air was paid for,
their cars were paid for…

Alex was set for life. An actor, married to a captain…

How Steve found himself in first class, hanging out with actors and the elite was beyond him.

He knew he didn’t fit in. He was a middle class crass ex-cop who
was
lucky to get a job at the advertising firm.

His parents had barely enough to retire on. His dad, now a disgraced sergeant after pulling his gun on Steve and Sonja Knight
…
a beautiful woman of color he was dating before he met Mark. Sonja was too good for Steve as well, coming from a rich family, a lawyer, sophisticated and brilliant.
She grew weary of Steve, breaking it off with him. Why did Sonja even date him?

He didn’t know. Maybe because he pestered her so much she finally gave in.

Steve kept dabbing at his eyes, not wanting them to overflow, not wanting Jack to see how upset he was.

If he lost Mark?

Steve would kill himself. He already imagined the act.

Mark would be found dead somewhere, and he’d use his police
off-
duty weapon to blow his brains out.

He choked on a sob and turned completely towards the window, wishing the plane would land and he could see if the love of his life was okay.

He knew Mark’s weakness for uniforms. So what if Billy and Mark screwed around. Christ, he’d let so many men ejaculate on his lover, what difference did it make
?
He wouldn’t love Mark any less. He’d hate Billy, but he would forgive his man.

After all…

Steve craved Alex. Steve had phone sex with Mark’s son.

That alone would put Mark into a tailspin.

A
teardrop
ran from Steve’s eye. He discreetly wiped it with his sleeve. He had to stop crying.
This is insane. Billy is with him. He is okay.

He stifled a full
blown
sob. Steve stood, headed to the bathroom and locked himself in. He splashed his face at the sink and couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. Drying his hands with the paper towels, Steve checked his phone. There was no reception
at the moment
. He put it into his pocket and shut the toilet lid and sat down on it, trying to compose himself.

Mark. My baby
.

Steve began to cry, covering his face. The conversation with Billy, Mark’s
‘
no
…
no…
’
not allowing Steve to speak to him. Mark accusing Steve and Jack of lusting after Alex…

Mark leaving the estate
,
furious with him.

Steve bit back his emotions, forcing himself to calm down. He was embarrassed to be seen like this.

Inhaling a few times, Steve blew his nose and checked his face out in the mirror. The fasten seatbelt sign lit. “Thank fuck.” He opened the bathroom door
, headed back to his seat
and sat down, hearing the announcement that they were flying into LAX and the cabin needed to be prepared for landing.

He adjusted his seat and kept inhaling deeply.
He is okay. He is okay.
Billy is with him. He is okay.

Alex finished his scenes.

He never recalled being this tired before. George Ford was a master and a perfectionist, and Alex had to do
scene
takes over and over again. Thankfully, most were not his fault. The crew behind the scene was to blame for most of the retakes
this time
.

Alex only flubbed his lines once. He didn’t want to be sneered at again. No way. He would be the one to do it right, and have everyone else to blame for the late nights.

Though he should have a real meal, Alex had snacked all day at the craft area
;
eating fruit, cheese,
and deli
meat, and keeping alert with caffeinated drinks and water.

They seemed to be filming al
l the night
shots now. The sex scenes were behind them, and the rest of the movie was creeping along, day by day.

His body ached and he was numb. He entered his private hotel room and was thankful of the peace and solitude. He stripped and took a hot shower, then sat in his briefs
on the bed
with his laptop and tried to get Billy on Skype. When he answered, Alex was relieved.

“Finally!”

“Hey, baby.
They
working you hard?”

“Killing me.” Alex sat with the laptop
on his legs,
leaning against the big pillows. “How are you, my captain?”

“Had better days, had worse.”

“Talk to me. I need to
think about
something other than the script for a while.”

Billy looked away from the
computer
camera’s lens and Alex could see him wearing a gray sweatshirt with a sports logo on it. He knew the one and had snuggled in it previously. “You didn’t work today, right?”

“No. I’m not working weekends unless I get called in on a major incident.”

Alex nodded. “Then what did you do all day? Work out?”

“I…I attended a SWAT training session.”

Alex smiled. “Oh, bet you loved that.
Don’t get any ideas, Captain. You are off the front lines. One shooting on duty is all your hubby can handle.”

Billy smiled softly and nodded. “Promise.”

“Steve said Dad headed to LA.”

Billy looked up at Alex’s image.

“Do you know
what happened?” Alex slouched o
n the pillows
.
T
he maids had cleaned the room and the bed was made.

“No.”

“I’m surprised Steve and Jack let him go home alone. Mr Fragile needs his minders.”

“Alex.”

“What?” Alex could hear Billy’s admonishing tone. “He’s like a big baby sometimes. I’m here alone in Rome. Hello? Christ, he’s what
?
F
orty-two
?
”

“Alex, stop it.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t make you
dr
op in on him, make sure he’s not passed out on the floor.”

“Alex!”

That jolted Alex. He blinked and could see Billy’s anger. “What?”

Billy didn’t answer but Alex tried to study his expression over the miles between them. “Why does everyone defend him?” Alex asked. “Here I am on my fucking own, and no one is coming out here. You think it’s easy?”

“You don’t starve yourself.”

“I’m not a moron.
”

“Please stop demeaning your father.”

“What the fuck?” Alex became defensive. “You
,
too? Not only do I have to watch Jack, Steve and Adam pander to my father, but now you?”

“No one is pandering. Change the subject.”

Alex grew suspicious. “Have you seen Dad since he came home from Paradise?”

“No.”

Alex tried to read his husband. “No? Haven’t jogged past the house? Haven’t seen him while you were out?”

Billy rubbed his face and eyes.

Alex got a strange cold sensation in his gut. “You have seen him.”

After frowning at his thoughts Billy said, “He
…
he came with me to the SWAT session.”

“Huh? Dad? Wow, that must have made him come in his pants.” Alex kept watching Billy. “So? Did he have fun?”

“I think so. He took photos with the guys after.”

Alex nodded. “That’s cool. Did he beg you for your uniform to jerk off to while he sat on a dildo?”

“Anyway…” Billy shifted on the bed he was sitting on. “So, what’s the deal with Dawson?”

“What deal?”

“Steve said
your dad
had to do something for Randy to get you off the hook for what Steve and I did.”

Alex tilted his head. “Yeah. I think Dad had coffee with the guy. What did you hear?”

Billy nodded. “Coffee. Right.”

Alex was beginnin
g to think something was very
wrong. “Billy. You better tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Are we going to jerk off?”

“Uh
…
can we reschedule for tomorrow?”

“Are you kidding me?” Alex choked. “I’m so fucking pent up sexually
,
I’m going crazy.” He waited for a confirmation from his husband. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes. Of course I am. I miss making love to you.”

“Then pull your cock out of your pants and let’s do it.” Alex tugged his briefs lower. When he had his dick out, he waited for Billy. Billy’s reluctance was exasperating. And unusual. “What. The. Fuck?”

As if Billy had been jolted into reality, he removed his sweatshirt and pants while Alex waited. The suspicion in Alex was beginning to grow. “Did you and my dad do anything after the police thing?”

“No.” Billy lowered the laptop, showing his cock, which was soft. “Let’s go.”

Alex tugged at his own cock a few times. Billy was not getting an erection. He grew furious. “You’re right. I’m too tired.” Alex tucked his cock
back
into his briefs.

“Alex, I’m okay. I’ll come for you.”

“Don’t bother.” Alex snarled and thought of Steve. “I’ll get myself off.”

“Alex. Come on!”

“What did you and my dad do? Huh?”

“We didn’t do anything. I dropped him off and
came
home.”

“I’m going to call him. I’m going to ask him.”

“Ask him. Call him.” Billy adjusted the computer and Alex could no longer see his cock.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for me?” Alex asked. “How much I am struggling to fit in here, to feel normal without my family and my friends?”

“Alex, everything is okay. Calm down.”

“Come out here
.
Come to Rome
.
”

“I can’t. Alex, I just got the promotion—”

“That’s bullshit!” Alex yelled, “Pure bullshit!”

“I wish it was. If I was a captain for a few months, I would. But believe me. They are watching me at the moment. It’s like probation.
And it’s bad enough that…”

“That?”

“Look, Alex, we’re both tired…”

“That you’re a fag and married to a kid twenty years younger than you? Who’s in all the celebrity rags?”

Billy sighed, appearing very unhappy. “Yes. Okay
?
Yes.”

“Fuck them! You don’t have to work anymore
.
Quit
.
Don’t you want to be with me?”

“Alex, please. Can we not have this conversation now? Please?”

“Fuck you.” Alex disconnected the call. He folded his arms tightly and knew, just knew, something happened today. And he’d find out. Someone would tell him. Oh yes, he’d find out.