On the way to work, I decided to stop at Trey’s and get that conversation started. I had to ring the doorbell three times before Trey finally opened the door to his apartment. Without even saying hello, he turned and shuffled back to his couch. He was wearing a food-stained robe and based on how much chest and leg I could see because of how loosely he’d tied the robe, nothing else.

The house smelled like shit. No, death. Like the door hadn’t been opened in months. It was dark as hell, too.

“Hey, man.” I tried to sound excited to see him, but couldn’t even manage a follow-up to my greeting.

I sat down in the chair next to the couch. When I realized that Trey wasn’t about to spark the conversation, I said, “How have you been?”

“Shitty.”

He wasn’t planning to go into details, which was not normal. Trey could talk for hours about anything that caused him the tiniest slight. He’d sounded out of character in the alley, but I’d been able to explain that based on him having just been attacked. But thinking back, he’d sounded odd the time I’d seen him before that, too.

It was hard to focus because of the funky staleness of the air. I hopped back to my feet. I knew that I was fidgeting, but like usual, was unable to do anything about it. Instead of sitting back down, I wandered to a window, trying to keep my movements as casual and steady as possible.

Trey groaned when I drew the curtains to brighten the room and pulled the window open to let in some fresh air.

“Hey, dick. Shut those,” Trey protested.

He didn’t move or complain further when I ignored his weak demand.

Rather than returning to the couch, I stayed near the window. Turning back to face Trey, I saw that he’d bought a new TV. The last time I’d visited, he’d still had the old-fashioned little cube-shaped TV that he’d had in his bedroom growing up. He’d always said there was no point in upgrading when he was never home anyway.

“Nice TV. Planning on staying home more often?”

“Yep.”

One of the big mysteries and points of gossip around the club is where Trey got his money. No one had ever heard him mention a real job. There were plenty of rumors of rich benefactors who paid for his things in return for sex, but if he was pimping himself out, it seemed like he’d be able to afford a nicer place to live.

I’d always assumed that he’d received some kind of inheritance that was big enough to escape the rat race but not big enough to live like a queen.

“Oh, speakers and a PlayStation, too? That must have cost a fortune. Where’d you get the cash?”

Trey looked me squarely in the eyes. It looked like a real effort. “I saved my pennies, bitch. Stop smoking and you can get some nice shit, too.”

God, I could use a smoke right now.

“Listen, I just came over to make sure you were okay after last night. Is there anything I can do?” I looked around at the discarded microwaveable frozen food trays he’d left around the living room. “Maybe help you clean up around here?”

“Leave it. It doesn’t matter. Enough about my sad ass. Tell me about you and your hot cop.”

Happy to move on to a more pleasant conversation, I leaned back against the wall. I pulled my cigarettes from my pocket, preparing to tell a story before realizing that I was inside someone’s house. I didn’t smoke inside. After shoving the pack back down in my pocket, I said, “Great. Everything I could ask for, and more than I deserve.”

I should do something special for him.

“Big dick?”

I rolled my eyes. Trey always focused on the important things. “Stop being an ass, but it’s perfect.” We’d fucked three times last night, each time better than the last. I was surprised I could even walk. “Better than perfect. More importantly, he’s nice, you know? Not a selfish prick like most guys.”

How many guys have called me the same over the years?

Unable to keep my body still any longer, I bounced around the room gathering the garbage while I talked. “I met his family already and they’re all sweethearts. Like something out of a sitcom.”

“What’d he think about yours?”

“Hasn’t happened yet, and it won’t if I can avoid it. They’d certainly scare him off.” I tossed the mess I’d gathered into the garbage can in the kitchen.

“The nut doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

Trey was trying to sucker me into a fight, but I wasn’t going to bite. “You know it. Oh, and he helped me pay for my car repairs just because he’s worried about me walking until the cops catch whoever is behind the attacks.”

“What’d that cost you? You better be using a condom.”

I snorted. Those two sentences captured the essence of Trey. Able to needle raw nerves with the best of them, but still a protective mother hen in his own right.

“Always, Trey. But it didn’t cost anything. I’ll just pay him back when I get the money.”

Despite thinking I sounded confident, his words had shaken me a little.

What if he does expect something?

Not the sex. I would willingly have given him whatever he asked for in bed.

But what if he expected a commitment? Monogamy? Marriage?

I shook the crazy thoughts from my head and focused on the new question Trey was asking.

“Where are these so-called experts looking for the bad guys? Or are they just eating donuts in alleys?”

I stomped my foot defensively. “Cops don’t just sit around eating donuts in the real world, you know? But I’m not sure where they are focusing other than downtown. James hasn’t told me much.”

“Do they have any suspects yet? Are they increasing cop patrols? Any FBI?”

“No suspects. James said he expected more cops around. FBI? Why would the FBI get involved?”

“Don’t ask me, cop lover. I’m just making small talk. You’re the one that came to my house. It just seems like if you know anything, you should let us friends of yours know so we can protect ourselves. Not all of us have cops ready to take a bullet for us.”

“Jesus Christ, Trey. You need to take a chill pill. Cops are the good guys. James would do anything to protect you or Sean or even the asshole that runs the smoke shop because that’s literally his job.”

It sounds good, but do I really know that?

We’d all heard stories of corrupt cops. It was certainly possible that James was one. It didn’t feel right, but my instincts weren’t necessarily the best barometer. I’d been with plenty of jerks in my life. Hell, that was the reason for the no-relationship rule in the first place.

“Just keep your eyes open, Evan,” Trey said, sounding more like mother hen than needling bully. “No one is willing to be a superhero without a reason, and a paycheck isn’t enough, especially on a cop’s salary. Mark my words, the crimes aren’t happening without some police support. I’ve heard things about a couple. One named Rick, and that O’Brian from the alley last night. Just shadows of rumors, but still. Although if your cop is springing for car repairs and who knows what else, maybe he has some supplemental income, if you know what I mean.”

“Fuck you. You’re not going to make me go jumping at shadows just because it’s fun for you to watch everyone else be miserable.”

I fled the apartment and slammed the door behind me before saying anything else.

As I stormed through the parking lot, I remembered that I’d meant to pick Trey’s brain for leads. Somehow he’d turned the tables on me and rather than using the meeting to my advantage, I’d run away. While I lit a cigarette, I considered going back inside, but was afraid Trey would trick me into assuming the worst about James, and I’d already been shaken enough for one afternoon.

Go to work. Everything gets better when I’m playing my music.