When One Door Opens (13 page)

“Reach into the bag and grab the kitty crack.”

“Huh?”

“Grab the little brown sack and give it to him.”

Daniel reached into the bag and pulled out the catnip. He tossed the sack toward the cat. Tiny went crazy, pinning the sack with his massive paws and rubbing his face all over with it.

Caleb grinned. “Congratulations.” He rubbed a finger behind Tiny’s ears. “You’ll be his new best friend.”

Daniel watched in apparent fascination as Tiny batted the sack back and forth. “Thank you, for helping me and for not making me feel like an idiot.”

“Not a problem,” Caleb said with a smile. “I aced Panic 101.”

L
OGAN
handed the cup to the bored-looking cop on piss collection duty. Drugs had never been his scene. He’d watched his old man shoot every dollar he could get his hands on up his arm. Activating the sensor on the sink, he washed his hands. They had given him a breathalyzer test earlier. Who would be stupid enough to show up drunk to the parole office? Enough guys to warrant the need, apparently. He knew Dabb carried one around in his briefcase. He’d made Logan use it outside the grocery where Logan got Caleb’s food. Logan hadn’t had a drink since detox in prison. After shaking off his hands, he wiped them against his jeans as he exited the bathroom.

This was his first time going to Dabb’s office. He met with his PO once a week, but mostly at places near Logan’s work or at his shit apartment. Today marked his one-month anniversary of being free, relatively speaking. The preteen curfew of eight o’clock would continue for another eleven months, but he’d get to scale back on his in-person check-ins if everything went okay today. He walked down the hallway, following the signs to the office area. He found the correct room, noticing Dabb sitting at his desk.
What the hell?
His PO was wiping his computer screen with a plushy M&M doll bigger than his hand.

Seeming to sense Logan’s presence, Dabb turned and invited him in by waving the doll at him. Logan hesitated, looking at the bright red M&M doll and then back at his PO.

“It’s a screen cleaner,” Dabb growled, like that made it any less weird.

Logan suddenly found his nose itchy as he stifled a laugh. He didn’t remember there being a clause in his parole agreement about mocking his PO, but it didn’t seem worth the risk. He entered the office that was the size of a walk-in closet, and took a seat in the chair across from the desk. In spite of his resolve, he couldn’t keep from gawking. There were at least a dozen boxes of bulk M&M packages and an M&M mouse pad with a matching mouse in the shape of the blue character. Magnets covered a pair of battered-looking filing cabinets. Plushy dolls of every shape and size, coffee cups, and even something that looked like a candy dispenser were spread over nearly every available surface. The scowling visage of his PO amongst the sea of brightly covered items was too much.

“I like M&M’s,” Dabb said.

“Clearly.”

Dabb’s gray eyes narrowed. “My girls are young, but they still like to pick out presents themselves.” He pulled out a framed photo of two curly-headed girls from his desk drawer, likely elementary-school age. Someone—hopefully the kids and not Dabb—had glued M&M’s all around the frame. It was disgustingly adorable.

“They’re real cute.”

Dabb looked at the photo with a sappy smile on his face before he tucked it back into the desk drawer. Logan started to wonder why he didn’t keep it out when the reality of his PO’s job hit him.
He likely deals with some sick fucks.
It was a sobering thought, but he was glad that Dabb wasn’t afraid to show him the picture.

“Okay, we need to fill out a monthly report of your activities. I am hoping you brought the information we talked about. It asks for info on your residence, employment, police encounters, alcohol treatment, and payment of supervision fees.” Dabb handed Logan a sheet of paper on a clipboard. “And here’s a pen,” he said matter-of-factly, as if daring Logan to comment on the M&M-shaped cap.

Logan bit his lower lip to keep from smiling and started on the form. The contact information was easy to enter, but he hesitated when he got to the employment section. “What should I put for hours?” His regular shift was 4:00 a.m. to 8:00 a.m., but he took on additional shifts whenever he got the chance.

“Put the time for your regular hours and I’ll put in a note about you texting me when you get an extra shift that has you out past curfew. The HR department agreed to fax me the timecards weekly. Did you remember to bring a pay stub?”

“Yeah.” He actually had two. Caleb had printed him one on company letterhead and provided a signed time card. Logan had been impressed by how professional it looked. He frowned. The form Dabb gave him only had space for one job. “Where should I put Caleb’s info?”

A look that made Logan’s gut clench passed over Dabb’s features.
Why would mentioning Caleb create a flash of irritation in Dabb’s eyes?
He looked away from Logan and said, “Fill out the rest of the form for now.”

Logan concentrated on the report, trying not to panic. He filled in the information about the AA meetings and the anger management classes he’d attended and verified he had paid the supervision fees to the court. After signing his name and dating the form, he handed the clipboard back to Dabb.

His PO pulled out a notebook and flipped to several pages in. “According to Mr. Klass, you’re responsible for retrieving Caleb’s mail from the PO box, taking back any mailers, removing any refuse or recyclable material, and visually inspecting the apartment for hazards or potential problems.” He flipped to the next page. “He also requires you to spend ten minutes talking with his nephew and occasionally picking up Caleb’s grocery order.”

Logan shifted in his seat. “That’s right.”

Dabb put down the notebook and folded his hands across the desk. “Then you want to tell me why that took you sixty-three minutes on this past Monday?” His voice was calm, without a hint of anger, but his gray eyes bored into Logan. It was hard to pull off badass while surrounded by colorful plushy dolls, but Dabb made it look easy. “I want to know what other
services
,” he said, managing to make the word sound filthy, “he’s paying you to perform.”

“You think I’m….” Logan laughed. The image of Klass in pimp gear flashed in his head, and he laughed harder. “Sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes.

Dabb looked both relieved and annoyed. “I’ve known Har—uh, Mr. Klass a long time and he definitely got squirrelly when I asked him why he selected you for the job. I needed to be sure he wasn’t putting pressure on you.”

“To fuck an incredibly hot guy?”

Without missing a beat, Dabb said, “To prostitute yourself to avoid losing both jobs and put your probation in jeopardy.”

“Klass ain’t pressuring me to do nothing!” Logan made a conscious effort to lower his voice. “You’ve met Caleb. Do you honestly believe he’d coerce a guy into having sex with him?”

Dabb shook his head. “He’d only have to switch on the webcam and guys would be begging to come over and rock his world, but that doesn’t mean something isn’t going on. You need to talk to me, Logan,” he said, pulling off his glasses. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Logan scrubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to think about anybody else rocking Caleb’s world. “Klass wants Caleb to leave the apartment. He just has an ass-backward way of doing it. He hires guys he thinks Caleb will be attracted to and has them ask embarrassing questions. It’s like he’s trying to shame Caleb into leaving.” It wasn’t until he said the words that he realized how angry the idea made him.

Dabb leaned back in his chair looking smug. “Then I take it Klass doesn’t know you’re gay.”

With a jolt, Logan realized he’d been played. No way did Dabb think Klass hired pros for his nephew. He’d just wanted to provoke Logan into talking. Manipulative bastard. “I don’t deny it, but I don’t get asked often.”

Dabb snorted. “I wasn’t looking forward to it myself. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Mostly, Caleb cooks and we talk a bit. As far as I can see, Caleb don’t have many friends and I’m being overpaid. It’s only right I spend time with him and make sure he’s doing okay.”

“So you’re doing it because you feel obligated? Or maybe sorry for him?”

“It’s not like I have many friends either.” When he had come up for parole, he’d deliberately asked to move into a neighborhood on the other side of town from his old place, needing to break away from the people who’d watched him slide into a bottle and not climb out. He couldn’t stand the thought of facing Michael again and seeing the hurt in his eyes. “He don’t drink booze and he’s a good guy.”

“So, you’re getting to be friends with him?”

Logan started to say yes, but then stopped.

Dabb made a frustrated noise. “This,” he said, pointing back and forth between them, “doesn’t work if you’re not honest with me.”

“I want us to be friends, but I wouldn’t mind if we were… uh… more than friends.” It was the first time he’d admitted even to himself what he really wanted. He’d wanted to fuck Caleb from the moment they’d met, but the urge to get closer to him had grown as he’d gotten to know him better. He’d had enough meaningless fucks in his life and too many he couldn’t even remember. He wanted more than that from Caleb. He wasn’t sure if he should act on it, but there was no use denying it.

Dabb massaged his forehead. “You know, this isn’t the first time in twenty years I’ve played Dr. Phil to a parolee’s love life, but it has to be the strangest.”

“Don’t get a lot of gay romances, do ya?”

“Plenty, but they don’t usually sound like the tagline to a porno.” His voice took on the tone of a TV announcer. “The delivery guy can’t wait to deliver his package to the housebound hottie.”

Logan barked a short laugh. Then felt his cheeks flushing when he remembered his first fantasy about Caleb had been along those same lines.
Housebound and Horny
. Pulling back from his thoughts, he saw Dabb smirking at him.
Two girls in the photo, but no wife.
It could be nothing, but something told Logan the glint in Dabb’s eyes meant they batted on the same side. He knew better than to ask his PO, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted to.

Dabb cleared his throat. “Having successfully completed your first month on probation, you won’t need to come back here for another three months, provided you continue to attend the AA meetings and successfully complete the anger management class. And avoid getting your ass arrested. We’ll scale back the phone check-ins to once every three weeks. But that doesn’t mean I won’t randomly show up at your work or your apartment.” He picked up a minibag of M&M’s and tossed it to Logan. “Stay out of trouble and call me if problems arise.”

“Will do,” Logan said, rising to his feet. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Thanks.”

W
HEN
the phone rang, Caleb glanced at the clock, noticing the late hour before answering it. It was Logan on the line. Remembering yesterday’s scheduled meeting, Caleb put the book he had been reading on the nightstand. “Did everything go all right with your parole officer?”

Logan’s deep sigh did nothing to alleviate Caleb’s unease. After an eternity, Logan said, “I woulda rather stayed with you, but it went okay.”

“I’m glad,” Caleb said, feeling his face heat up. “That it went okay.” He recalled his conversation with his neighbor when he had returned from Daniel’s apartment. “Mrs. Simon says ‘time’s up’, but she refused to tell me for what.”

“She said that when you took her the grandma cookies?”

“Yeah, after she had me deliver Tiny to a guy on the fifth floor that’s going to watch him,” Caleb said, feeling ridiculously proud of himself for holding it together long enough to deliver the cat. Hell, he managed better than Daniel.

“Is that right?”

Caleb thought Logan’s voice sounded strange, more serious.
Maybe he’s tired and not looking to hear about my pathetic success.
“I should let you sleep. I know how long your day was.”

“Not until you tell me about the guy you met.”

Caleb shrugged and then realized Logan couldn’t see him. “Seemed nice enough”—
for a fish killer
—”and Mrs. Simon sings his praises.”

“Gay or straight?”

Caleb blinked several times. “How would I know? I talked to him for less than ten minutes.”

“Knew about you that first day.”

“Really?”
Am I that obvious
? He chewed on his bottom lip, consoling himself with the knowledge Logan was the most gorgeous guy he had seen in the flesh.
Who wouldn’t drool over him?

“I’d bet money I don’t have that that biddy is scheming to hook you up with the guy. No straight man’s gonna volunteer to cat-sit an old lady’s pet.”

Caleb laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“Was he pretty?”

A picture of Daniel when he had first opened the door popped into Caleb’s mind. “Um….” He heard a low grumbling sound. Pulling back the receiver, he looked at the phone before putting it back against his ear. “Did you just growl?”

“I don’t wanna talk about Mr. Fifth Floor anymore.”

Caleb grinned. Was Logan actually jealous? “You know, you’re starting to slack on the job. You forgot to ask me about my sex life yesterday.” In a flash, he remembered the moment in the kitchen. The heat he saw in Logan’s eyes and the warmth of his mouth. He dragged his attention back to what Logan was saying.

“You little shit. I just got out of the shower and you’re gonna send me right back in there.”

It took a moment for Caleb’s brain to process the words. “Are you saying….” He covered his face with his hand. “You’re going to….”

Logan chuckled. “Get off thinking about you? Oh yeah, but it’s up to you whether you listen.”

“I don’t think I can do it,” Caleb blurted out.

“Get off?”

“Talk about, uh, stuff. I’ve never done it on the phone.”

“But you have done it with a guy, right?” Logan asked quietly.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Four years ago. But Logan didn’t need to know that.