Wonderland (10 page)

I
grabbed the flyer from the trash and stuck it to the fridge with a magnet that held a picture of Steven and me on the beach, thinking maybe I would go. Maybe we both could go.

“Wait a minute!” It suddenly occurred to me that this might not just be the club randomly flyering the gayborhood. What if this was the psycho? His first note had been on a similar flyer. But he hadn't called telling me to expect mail.

My phone vibrated, but it was just another text from Brandon. He was not letting it go. I was fed up with these random “you're a slut” texts, so I figured, if he wasn't going to believe me, I might as well let him have it.

And he tasted great!
I texted back, turning my phone off.

I turned on the TV and stared at it until it was time to leave for wings. When I turned the phone back on, it went mad with missed messages, furious and scathing and almost unreadable texts from Brandon. I read them and laughed as I walked to my car. I started backing out, and it
KLUMPed
.

“What the hell now?” I said, getting out. My rear passenger tire was flat, slashed. “For fuck sake!” I kicked the car.

I called a cab, and while waiting for it outside the building, I debated who would have slashed the tire. I guessed it was the same guy who'd graffitied my door. The way I saw it, it was either the psycho kidnapper or the psycho twink. I didn't know how Allan would've known where I lived, though. Brandon wouldn't have done it, would he have? No, he couldn't have. He was working when my door got graffitied, and anyway, he just wouldn't have. Yes, he was fuming mad, and yes, I'd made it worse with my text, but he wasn't a nut job, was he?

I didn't really know. I'd only met him that year, the same time I'd met Jesse and Colton and Steven. Before then, it really had just been me and Dinah, and occasionally Twitten after they'd started dating. I was enjoying my solitude in my post-Aaron world. Until Steven. Everything had changed when I met Steven.

A yellow cab pulled up, and I gave the address, texting the twins that I was on my way.

Just like weekend brunches at the Duchess, Wingsanity Wednesdays at the Peppery Pig were tradition for us. A tradition I could only hope Brandon and Psycho Boy were going to skip. It was packed when I got there, the wing special, the draft specials, the free pool all combining to form an irresistible Wednesday night combination. I saw Jesse waving at me and headed for them through the throng.

“What is going on?” Jesse said as I sat down. “Pour yourself some beer, bitch, and spill.”

I helped myself to a glass of beer, and we toasted. “What have you heard?” I asked.

“Brandon has been in a state, and we heard you got in a fistfight with him at the bar?”

“Hardly a fistfight. He slugged me a couple times.”

Colton took my chin in his hand and looked at my eye. “He got you good. What did you do?”

“Did you actually jump his boyfriend at the tubs?”

“I ran into Allan there, and he attacked me, thinking I was going to tell Brandon, and then later, told Brandon I hit on him. That's all.”

“He tasted good?” Jesse asked with a smirk.

“That was just me fucking with Brandon. And he didn't waste any time telling you that, did he?”

“More importantly, what were you doing at White Night?”

“Yah, we thought you weren't going.”

I did a quick tally of pros and cons in my head, and decided that I needed some advice on what to do next anyway. Over wings (the house special hottiyaki flavor), I filled them in on everything: the phone calls, the flyers, the sex. Jesse of course wanted every detail.

“Who was he? Was he hung? Was he good? How many times did you cum?”

“For Christ's sake, Jesse, that's not really the point of the story.”

“But it's the good part. Colton, remember when we used to go to White Night and put on a show in the sling? We should do that again.”

“Down boy,” Colton replied. “Alex, this has gone too far. You have no idea who'd want to do this to you? No one that hates you?”

“Not like this. You should have heard the vitriol in his voice . . .”

“Oooh. Vitriol. Good vocab.”

“Thanks, Jesse. He absolutely loathed me. When he called me faggot . . .” I paused.

“What is it?” they asked in twinly unison.

“I just thought of someone who hates me, hates all gays.”

We looked each other in the eyes and said as one, “The Walrus!”

I
t had to be him! He fit the profile, the gay-hating crazy loner. Why hadn't I thought of it before? And it made sense, that'd he'd want proof that gay people were just like religious nuts said: partying whores incapable of a real and loving relationship!

“Will you guys come with me?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world!” Jesse said, even as Colton asked, “Are you sure you shouldn't just go to the police now?”

“Not until I get Steven out! To think, all this time, he's just been across the hall!”

“Now Alex, you don't know that.”

“It has to be. Are you coming?”

Jesse slammed back his beer and jumped to his feet. “Super gay power, activate! Away!” We tossed some money down for our bill, including a huge tip for our waiter (whose basket was far more appetizing than the basket of wings when it came right down to it), and we were off.

“You might as well tell us about the guy you did,” Jesse said. “It might not mean anything but it will pass the time.” We piled into Colton's car.

“Can you guys keep a secret?”

“Of course!” they said as one.

“I used to date him.”

“You hooked up with an ex? Dude!”

“Jesse, you're not a surfer, you don't have to dude all the time.”

“It's part of what makes me sexy.”

“That's not what makes you sexy,” Colton said, reaching his hand in between Jesse's legs.

“Stop it, you two.”

“Making you horny?”

“Always, but no more sex unless it's with Steven.”

“So an ex?”

“My ex, Aaron. From back home.”

“Weren't you guys together forever?”

“Six years.”

“Was it weird?”

“No, it was . . . nice.”

“Why'd you break up again?”

“It wasn't going anywhere. We were in a rut.”

“Well, he was in your rut anyway.”

“You're a pig, Jesse. He gave me his number. He says he's here all week.”

“Are you going to call?”

“I kinda have a lot going on.”

“Bring him to the bar tomorrow.”

“What's at the bar tomorrow?”

“Go-go boys and cheap shots, duh. It's Thursday.”

“How do you stay so good-looking going out all the time?”

“Cum is good for wrinkles.”

“You're a pig, Jesse.”

“A pig with a wrinkle-free ass.”

We laughed as Colton pulled up to my building. “What exactly is your plan here, Alex? We can't just ask him if he's a sociopath.”

“And we can't break his door down and see if Steven is there.” Jesse paused. “Can we? Oh please, can we?”

“No, we're going to wait until he leaves, and then go in and look around.”

“How are you planning on getting into his place?”

“That's where you come in.” I smiled at Jesse. “I hope you're feeling flirty.”

“Always! Who do I need to flirt with?”

“My landlord.”

“S
o a few weeks ago, I had left my keys at Steven's, and had to buzz Mr. C to get in. He has a rack of keys in his hall for every unit. Jesse, you flirt, while I steal the Walrus's keys.”

“What about me?” Colton asked.

“Here's my key,” I said, handing it over. “Perch yourself at my peephole and keep watch.”

“Why does Jesse get to be the flirter?” We both looked at him. “Okay, fine. No doing anything without me, though!”

“We're not seducing him, Colton, just flirting.”

“I know my boyfriend,” Colton replied. “And you've had quite the week too. Us, your ex, Allan.” He stuck his tongue out at me. “Which reminds me, Brandon hasn't texted us in at least an hour.”

“Thank God,” I said. “Okay guys, we ready?” They nodded.

Jesse and I got out on the second floor, while Colton continued up to mine. “What's the reason we're going there anyway?” Jesse asked.

“Simple, I'm just going to tell him about my tire. It's perfect. It's a legitimate reason to get us in the door, then I'll ask to use the bathroom, and you keep him busy.”

“Is he even gay?”

“Does it matter?”

“Maybe for another night,” Jesse said with a wink. “He's a handyman. And you know how I love getting hammered and nailed.”

“Do you ever not think with your dick?”

“It's the biggest brain I have, babe.”

We were nearing Mr. Carroll's. “Shut up.” I knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” he called from inside.

“It's Alex, from 14C.”

He opened the door. “What's up?”

“You know how you said to come talk if there's any more problems? Well, I have one.”

“Come on in.”

“This is my friend Jesse. Jesse, Mr. Carroll.”

Mr. C ushered us into his living room. “Can I get you boys a drink?”

“I'm good, thanks,” I said, even as Jesse piped up, “a beer would be great, thanks.” I could tell by the look in his eyes he was already planning on bringing Colton down to get their plumbing checked. He was hot, I guessed, for an older guy. No Alex, focus, I told myself.

Mr. C came back from the kitchen with a couple of beers, gave one to Jesse, cracked one himself. “So what's up, Alex from 14C?”

I told him about my tire being slashed, I told him about the weird guy on the intercom. I didn't tell him about my window because I figured that would spook him too much, and he'd just call the cops. I couldn't help but notice that Mr. C kept his eyes on Jesse pretty much the entire time I was talking, and that Jesse was doing his show-off-my-muscles stretch, not to mention sitting there with his legs spread just enough to give a great package view.

“Can I use your bathroom?” I asked.

“Wha . . . Sure . . .”

I glanced back over my shoulder as I went down the hallway. Jesse was at the window. “It's a great view.” It wasn't. We were on the second floor.

“Yeah, I'm loving the view myself,” I heard Mr. C say. Men!

There was the key rack. I scanned it quickly, found the spare keys for the Walrus's apartment, and then ducked into the bathroom and flushed. Tucking the key in my pocket, I went back down to the living room, where Jesse was bent over on all fours examining Mr. C's DVD collection.

“I can't believe you have every
Star Trek
episode ever,” he was saying.

“Anyway thanks for your time, Mr. C,” I said. “I don't want to keep you, but I just wanted to let you know.”

Jesse stood up, stretching his arms above his head, showing a bit of abs and belly button. Even I was distracted.

“You guys don't have to leave. We can hang, have a couple beers.”

“Maybe another time.” I grabbed Jesse's hand.

“Yeah, maybe another time. I really wanna see the tribbles DS9 one again.”

“Anytime,” Mr. Carroll said, showing us to the door. When Jesse leaned over to tie his shoes, the stare was obvious, and I could tell Mr. C's pants were tighter than normal. It paid having such hot friends.

In the hall, I whispered to Jesse, “Really? Tribbles?”

“What? I'm a Trekkie. Don't judge.”

“Boldly blowing what no one has blown before?” I asked, pressing the button for the elevator.

“I'll tell you this,” Jesse said as we got in, “I'd rock his galaxy.”

“Maybe later.” I held up the key. “For now, we're busy.”

The elevator whisked us up, to the Walrus and hopefully to Steven.

T
here was only the faintest hint of
FAGGOT WHORE
still painted on my door. I would definitely have to thank Mr. C, maybe when I snuck the key back down. Or, on second thought, I could let Jesse do the thanking for me. My door was paint-free but locked. I banged on it. “Colton, it's us, let us in.”

“Password?”

“What? Open the door.”

“Not unless you know the password. Good spies always have a password.”

“I'm not in the mood, Colton.”

Colton made a buzzer noise. “Try again.”

“Colton, I am going to kick your ass.”

“Was that kick or lick?”

“Let us in.”

He opened the door, laughing. “You're no fun, Alex.”

“Sorry, I'm kinda distracted now, and I already have Boy Wonder here setting up
Star Wars
dates with my landlord.”

“Whatever. Have you seen him?”

“No,” Colton said. “But didn't you say he hardly ever leaves?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“Well, one. What if we pull the fire alarm?”

“Colton! That's against the law, and it's dangerous.”

“Breaking into someone's apartment isn't exactly legal and easy.”

“Let's just try it my way first.”

“You really are no fun.”

“Who gets the first peephole shift?” Jesse asked.

“You asked, you go,” I said. “I'm going to take a nap.”

“Really?”

“I'm exhausted, you guys have no idea. Do you mind?”

“We'll keep ourselves amused.” They winked at each other.

“Just keep it down and keep your eye on his door. I don't care what you do other than that.” Jesse put his eye up to the peephole, and Colton dropped to his knees. “Wait till I go to bed at least?” I said.

They laughed, and I shook my head at them, and crawled into bed. Griffin hopped up next to me, purring loudly as he rubbed up into my hand. “I miss him too,” I said.

As nervous as I was, it didn't take me long to fall asleep.

 

 

I woke up to Colton shaking me. “What is it?”

“He left.”

I jumped out of bed, suddenly wide awake. “What time is it?”

“It's almost midnight.”

“You shouldn't have let me sleep so long.”

“We . . . got distracted. But the point is, he left.”

“Where could he be going in the middle of the night?”

“Who knows, but we gotta move fast. Who knows when he might be back.”