Joey

I wasn’t excited to be staying with Percy for the reasons one might think. The satisfaction I felt about being there wasn’t sexual. I was grateful that his offer wasn’t simply an offer. It was more of a demand.

He truly cared.

I hadn’t felt that anyone cared about me since my mother passed.

I looked around the sparsely furnished – but very tidy – home. There wasn’t a single thing out of place.

On the far wall, a television sat atop a console. Beside it, a wooden display case with a glass front was filled with various baseball memorabilia. Flanking the console were two low back fabric chairs. Directly across from it, a well-weathered couch sat.

I motioned toward the display case. “Is that you’re personal collection?”

“Some of it. The good stuff.”

I knew how much baseball cards meant to him. Heck, it was how he made a living. I walked to the case, peered through the glass, and admired the neatness of the display.

Everything was perfectly placed, centered, and in plastic protective cases. Four autographed baseballs in glass cubes, and more than two-dozen cards, one of which was in its own little shrine.

“What’s the special one here on the top?” I asked.

“Mickey Mantle #311,” he said.

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s a 1952 Mickey mantle card. He played for the Yankees. It’s a pretty sought after card. It’s been in my family since 1952.”

“Oh, wow. That’s impressive.”

“That’s why it’s on the top.”

I turned toward him. “I need a hobby.”

“You’ve got one already,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“Finding parts for Harleys.”

“That’s not a hobby,” I said adamantly. “I’m going to make a career of it.” I looked at my pile of random clothes and the suitcase I’d filled with my belongings. “Where do you want me to--”

“Second door on the left. It’s a guest room. Smoke stayed in it once, but other than that, nobody’s ever slept in there. Don’t worry.” He chuckled. “I washed the sheets.”

“Okay.” I glanced down the hallway. “You just want me to put my stuff in there?”

“Until we figure something else out, that’ll be your bedroom,” he said. “While you’re here, it’s yours. No one will go in there, including me.”

“Wow. Okay. Thanks.”

“Smoke and I knocked the wall out when we remodeled the bathroom, so there’s a door that goes into the hall bath. If you’re in there, lock the door.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Do you cook?” I asked.

He gave me a look. “Me?”

I nodded.

“Toast. Maybe an egg from time to time. Other than that, no. Why?”

I loved to cook. When I was younger, before Josh started his violent fits, I used to cook for him every night.

“Do you mind if I do?”

“Not much here to cook, but I don’t give a shit.” He shrugged. “Whatever flips your switch.”

I motioned toward the bedroom. “I guess I’ll put my stuff up.”

“I ain’t much on hanging out in here.” He looked around the house nervously. “I’ll be in the driveway staring at that Hernandez guy’s place.”

“Aguilar.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “That’s what I meant.”

As he turned toward the front door, I carried my things down the hallway and opened the bedroom door.

The gray bedding and overstuffed pillows wasn’t what I would have expected Percy to choose, but then again, he was different than anyone I’d ever met. After I hung my clothes in the closet and put everything away I looked around the room.

The bed and two nightstands were along one wall. A matching dresser was positioned against the wall at the side, and three large framed black and white photos of vintage motorcycles were hung in the center of each open wall.

The hardwood floors were polished to perfection. At the foot of the bed, and at the left side, throw rugs were placed.

It resembled something out of a magazine.

I pressed my hand against the comforter. The mattress gave some resistance, but not like the hard one I’d been accustomed to sleeping on.

I turned and fell onto the bed.

It was like lying on a cloud. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh.

A knock on the door startled me. I jumped to my feet, and looked around. Confused for a second as to where I was, my mind eventually caught up with me.

“Come in.”

The door opened. Percy stood in the hallway with his hand resting on the doorknob. He wasn’t wearing his leather vest, which I found odd.

Dressed in a white tank top, jeans, and a pair of lace-up boots, he looked intimidating as hell.

“Stay in here. No matter what, don’t come out until I come tell you it’s okay. You can come out of the room, just not the house.”

I swallowed heavily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Shithead’s home. I’m headed over there.”

“Are you uhhm. Are you going to tell him I’m staying here?”

He barked out a laugh. “I ain’t gonna tell him shit. He’ll see your car sooner or later, though.”

“I’ll uhhm. Okay.”

“If the cops come and haul me away, shut the garage door, and lock the house when you leave. I’ll be back sooner or later. Either that, or Smoke will come by and let you know what’s up. Set of keys on the kitchen table for you. One fits the front door, and one fits the back. The little key locks the garage from the outside.”

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?”

His face was expressionless. “Depends on how things go, I suppose.”

He extended his clenched fist.

I swallowed hard, walked to the door, and pounded my fist against his.

“See you in a bit, Smudge.”

I bit against my quivering lip and gave a sharp nod.

He pulled the door closed behind him.

Then, it hit me.

I yanked the door open. “Be careful. He’s uhhm. He’s a former Marine.”

“A former Marine?” He glanced over his shoulder and let out a laugh. “Well, I’m currently the meanest son-of-a-bitch I know, so this ought to be fun.”