Saying Goodbye (18 page)

~

His anxiety level hit
ting
the roof,
Steve wanted to tell the limousine driver to floor it. He sat in the back seat with Jack and Adam, their luggage stowed in the trunk and only minutes away from home. Steve was going crazy. Mark was not answering his phone, and neither was Billy.

When the black sedan pulled into
his
driveway, Steve leapt out and
sprint
ed to the front door
.
Seeing
the lock was latched but the alarm was not set
, he used his keys to open the door
. “Mark!” Steve called, searching the house. “Mark!” he yelled as he raced up to the bedroom, then down to the kitchen again. He opened the door to the garage and saw the TVR was missing.

Steve
’s hands
shook as he used his phone again.

Jack and Adam stood waiting at the front door as the driver brought in Steve’s bag.

“Mark,” Steve said to Mark’s voicemail
,
“I’m at the house. Where the fuck are you?”

Adam asked, “No
t
here?”

“No. And he took his car.” Steve looked around the room but it was perfectly neat.

“Right. I’m beat. Call us if you need us.” Jack turned to walk out of the house.

“You’re not going to help me find him?” Steve asked as Adam appeared surprised.

“Nah. I’m exhausted.” Jack walked back to the waiting driver.

Steve opened his hands to Adam. “What the fuck?”

“I think Jack’s feeling slightly worn out. He’s got Richfield burnout.”

“Adam!” Steve panicked. “I have no idea where to look for him.”

“And Jack and I do?”

“Oh my God? Really?” Steve felt a lump in his throat. “I’m on my own here?”

“Babe. You’re not on your own. I’ll talk to Jack. If we come up with anything, we’ll call you.” Adam kissed Steve’s cheek.

Steve watched Adam leave. Jack was already in the back of the limousine. “Really?” Steve yelled out to Adam.

Adam waved at him and joined Jack.

The car drove off into the darkness.

Steve was stunned. He closed the door and tried to think. Where would Mark go? Steve grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him, driving to the last person who had seen Mark. Billy Sharpe.

~

Billy slouched on his sofa in the huge open-plan living space of his and Alex’s home in Bel Air. The back of the house had a view of the Getty Museum. A home costing millions
, p
aid for by a trust fund Alex was granted at twenty-one
, and d
ecorated by Mark’s team of designers.

Billy held a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a glass in the other. The enormous flat screen television was on but
he wasn’t actually watching it,
j
ust had it turned on from force of habit. The channel was showing some violent historical
series with slow motion decapitations and spraying blood.

He poured more
whiskey
into his glass and sank emotionally and physically. He was drunk, working towards oblivion. He had failed.

Failed the test of willpower, failed as a friend, failed as a husband and failed as a decent human being.

He could not contain Mark. What was he supposed to do? After fucking the man, ignoring Mark’s weak protests…

What? Chain him up? Handcuff him?

Billy downed more whiskey, wasted on an empty stomach.

Alex knew. Make no mistake, Alex knew
something had happened between him and his father
.

He didn’t have to admit it. Billy was a lousy liar. He had prided himself in honesty
, b
eing fair and non-judgmental on the street in his job, and trying to
be a good, loyal husband.

He had failed.

Banging came to his door.

“Mark?” Billy perked up. He tried to set the bottle and glass on the coffee table. The television was blasting violence and dramatic music but he didn’t care.

He spilled the contents of his glass as he dropped it on the floor and the bottle went sideways, nearly empty.

Billy swayed and licked his lips as he made his way across the white marble tile to the door. The
banging
grew louder.

“Mark!” Billy opened the door.

It was not Mark.
E
x-
LAPD
police officer
Steve Miller was panting, snarling and appeared homicidal.

Billy was stunned to see him.

“Where is he?” Steve pushed inside the house, looking around.

“He’s not here.”

Steve whipped around and stalked Billy. “You were supposed to watch him
.
You promised me you would stay with him!”

“I tried.
” Billy staggered as he attempted to stand still, his head dizzy from the booze.

“His car is gone!
” Steve shouted, making Billy wince. “Where did he go?”

Billy choked on his words and tried to make it to the couch before he fell on his face.

Steve grabbed Billy’s swea
tshirt and dragged Billy to confront
him. “What happened between you and Mark?”

Billy closed his eyes and his knees buckled under him. “I’m sorry.”

Steve threw him onto the couch. “Sorry?” Steve clenched his fists. “Sorry for what? What did you do?”

Billy met Steve’s glare, des
erved his fury. “I fucked him,
” Billy
sai
d, choking on his words.

Steve fell on him, grabbing Billy’s throat and shaking him. “You fucked my man? You fucked the father of your husband?”

Billy’s fight instinct hit and he grabbed at Steve’s wrists and ripped them off his neck. “Yes!”

Steve jerked his arms away and punched Billy in the face.

Billy tasted blood and managed to get to his feet. He held out his hand. “Don’t. I swear, I am so
furious with myself, I’ll take it out on you.”

“Come on!” Steve gestured for the battle. “You fucking douche bag! Come on!”

Billy looked at the violence on the television screen
, m
en cleaving each other in half in ancient Rome. He picked up the whiskey bottle by the neck to use as a weapon.

Steve stood his ground and held up his arms in defense.

Billy imagined hitting Steve with the bottle but couldn’t. He dropped it to the floor and covered his face.

Steve grabbed
Billy’s
s
weat
shirt by the shoulders and shook him violently. “Why? Why, Sharpe! Do you have any idea what this kind of thing will do to Mark?”

“I do now.” Billy
nodded and repeated weakly,
“I do now.”

“I can’t find him! I don’t even know where to look
.
” Steve threw Billy back and Billy fell onto the couch again. “Did you at least take his pills
away from him
?”

Billy sobbed and shook his head. “No.
I didn’t know where they were.
”

Steve punched him again.

Billy grew furious and puffed up. “When I’m sober I will beat you down, Miller.”

“Fuck you!” Steve’s voice cracked. “Where’s my husband? Huh? Where is he?”

“Is Jack looking for him?” Billy rocked on the sofa. “Jack will know.”

“Jack doesn’t know!” Steve rubbed his face and looked at the TV. He picked up the bottle and threw it at the screen. The big flat screen shattered and the sound went dead.

Billy went limp on the couch, helpless, guilty. “I fucked up.”

Steve grabbed his sweatshirt and dragged him upright on the couch. “If he’s dead I will kill you.”

“No!” Billy shook his head. “Mark isn’t dead
. Don’t even say shit like that.
”

“Do you know how many times he’s tried to kill himself?” Steve shook Billy violently.

That stunned Billy. “Mark has tried to kill himself?”
He
struggl
ed to recall if he knew that
, i
f Alex had ever mentioned it.
But he was too drunk to think
.

“You ass!” Steve tightened his grip on Billy’s shirt.

“No! Why would he hurt himself? No.” Billy shook his head in denial. “He’d never leave you. He’d never do that to Alex.”

Steve pushed Billy away and slammed the door as he left. The house
seemed to
tremble
at the violent exit and Billy was left staring into space. “No. He would never do that. No.”

~

“Jack.” Adam watched Jack unpack his overnight bag.

Jack ignored him.

“Jack!” Adam said more forcefully.

“Leave me alone, Lewis.” Jack put his toiletries into the bathroom.

“We have to find Mark.”

“No. We don’t.” Jack finished tossing the contents of his bag into the laundry hamper and then left the room.

Adam followed. Jack took a beer out of the refrigerator.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adam asked.

Jack twi
sted off the cap and said, “He’
s Steve’s problem.”

“No. Mark is not a ‘problem’ he is our lover. Our husband.”

“Ha. Yeah.” Jack swigged the beer.

Adam approached Jack, glaring at him. “I have no idea what the fuck is going on with you, but you know damn well Steve can’t do this alone.”

Jack shrugged, walking to the living room.

“Jack!” Adam was exasperated.

Jack stopped short and turned to look at Adam. “You know Mark and Billy probably fucked?”

“So? We all fuck each other.
”

Jack made a face of disgust and sat on the sofa, picking up the TV remote.

Adam stood between Jack and the television, his hands on his hips. “Are you kidding me? Just because Billy and Mark may have had an affair you’re going to let Mark kill himself?”

Jack gaped at Adam. “And you’re just fine with it?”

Adam threw up his hands. “Everyone jerks off on Mark
.
He
has so many
fucking dicks in his mouth at our gatherings, what the hell is wrong with one more?”

“Billy is Alex’s husband!”

“Then isn’t it up to Alex to be angry and betrayed? Why the hell are you?”

“Fuck you.” Jack tried to turn the TV on.

Adam ripped the remote control out of Jack’s hand and tossed it on a chair across the room. “You bastard. This is about you and Alex.”

“What?” Jack showed his teeth in a snarl.

“You fucking
hate
Billy because he fucks Alex. So? Now that Billy go
t
to your Mark Antonious,
you
are the one betrayed? Huh?” Adam began to get enraged. “Go to Rome! Fuck Alex! Think I care? So much goddamn screwing goes on between all of us, what the hell difference does it make?”

“Are you kidding me?” Jack choked in shock. “You wouldn’t care if I fucked Alexander?”

“No! Do it! Get it the hell out of your system. You and Steve both need to fuck that brat so you can move the hell on. You think it’s going to be earth-shattering? Huh? A fuck unlike all the other fucks you’ve had in your life?”

Jack appeared completely stunned.

Adam rubbed his face in frustration. “Why did we race back here to LA with Steve if not to help him?”

Jack set his beer bottle down and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Jesus Christ, Lewis. You are too much.”

“I’m not an idiot
.
Christ, Jack, you undere
stimate everyone’s intelligence.
Mostly mine!” Adam left the room and picked up his phone to see if Steve had located Mark.

Jack ended up standing behind him, touching Adam’s back lightly.

“Adam?”
Steve answered the phone.

“Steve. Any luck?”

“No. Billy hasn’t a clue. He’s drunk on his ass with regret.”

Adam sighed. “Right.” He glanced at Jack. “Look, I’ll hit the Boulevard and start looking for his car.”

“Thank you, Adam.”

He heard Steve choke with tears.

“You got it. Call me if you hear anything.”

“I will.”

Adam disconnected the phone and went to get his car keys and jacket.

“Adam.”

Adam looked at Jack.

“I’ll come with you.”

He made sure he had his wallet and headed out to his car, wishing his life was easy. But nothing in life was. Adam knew that more than the rest of them did. He worked all day with needy actors who craved him to be their mommy and their boss.
And he didn’t love them. He loved Mark.