When One Door Opens (9 page)

Dabb didn’t look convinced, but he continued anyway. “The guy took a swing at Logan and Logan tossed him over a five-foot bar and into the glass shelves holding the liquor bottles.” He opened his briefcase and took out an eight-by-ten color photo, plopping it on the couch between them.

Caleb looked at the photo, unable to touch it, feeling his chest tighten. The picture showed a close-up of a man’s partially shaved head. A long gash held together with more than two dozen stitches ran from the middle of his forehead to the back of his ear. The skin was puckered and angry looking.

“Logan wasn’t done yet.” Dabb pulled out another photo, showing the smashed shelves and the floor covered in blood, glass, and liquor. “He climbed on the bar to go after the boyfriend. Three guys tried to stop him.” He pulled out a stack of five-by-seven photographs. He laid out the photos like a card dealer, listing off the injuries sustained to the men who tried to prevent Logan from hurting the man further. “Fractured wrist, broken nose, dislocated shoulder, and numerous bruises and cuts.” Logan had been enraged and unstoppable.

Caleb gathered the photos and handed them back to Dabb. “You’re showing me these because you think he’ll start drinking again and do something to hurt me?”

“I know this doesn’t feel real that the guy who’s been delivering your mail is capable of doing something like this. But he is. He did.”

Caleb felt like someone had poured sand down his throat. He took a deep drink from his glass before continuing. “I know how weird it is that checking the mail is more terrifying than having an ex-con bring it to me.” It was the truth. He wasn’t afraid of Logan, even if he should be for more reasons than Logan’s record. He looked at his drink. The glass was cold and slick against his hands; the contents rippled ever so slightly.

“I’m not judging you. I want Logan to succeed.” Dabb pulled off his glasses and began polishing them with the bottom of his shirt. “I also want to limit the damage if he fails.”

Caleb swallowed hard, the lemonade feeling like acid churning in his stomach. “What do you want me to do?”

“I think I should force him to find another part-time job. I think you’d both be better off. I’ll help him find another one.”

Caleb put his glass on the coffee table, afraid it would shatter in his tightening grip. “If you think that’s best for
Logan
,” he said, stressing the name, because he didn’t want Dabb’s pity or his protection. “Then I’ll go along with whatever you decide.”

“You still want him working for you after seeing those?” Dabb gestured toward the closed file folder. “I won’t hold it against him or you if you want to hire someone else.”

Dabb was right. It didn’t feel real. He couldn’t imagine the man he had gotten to know over the past few weeks capable of such a brutal attack.
Could the booze really change him so much? What if he starts drinking again?
He reined in that line of thinking. It wasn’t fair to Logan. “I refuse to be afraid Logan might slip back into bad habits. He’s earned the right for a second chance.”

Dabb looked Caleb in the eyes for the next few moments, and then he sighed. “Let’s give it a couple of weeks. I’ll look into some prospects for another job in the meanwhile.” He handed Caleb a business card. “Call me if you have any problems.”

Caleb accepted the card numbly, wondering if he would ever get his own second chance. Not to get his old life back, but a new one. Where he would select his own produce. Eat a hotdog bigger than his head at the ballpark. Go to a movie with a friend. They had seemed like impossible goals only a few weeks ago, but a flicker of hope burned in his belly.

“Caleb.” Dabb said it like it hadn’t been the first time. “Come lock the door after me.”

Caleb shook off the thoughts and rose. Dabb stood in the threshold with a pained look on his face. “Take care of yourself,” he said, making it sound like an order instead of a request.

Something in Dabb’s intense gaze made Caleb’s stomach clench.
Uncle Harrison looked at my mother that way.
He didn’t want to be seen as fragile, breakable.

Caleb smiled stiffly. “I will. Thank you.” Only after he had secured the door, did he hear Dabb walking away, his feet pounding on the steps.

Flopping on the leather couch, Caleb covered his face with his arms. His mother would be devastated to know how far he had sunk since her death. When she got upset, her heart would race and she would get dizzy, even faint if she got flustered enough. Caleb tried very hard never to be the cause. When the panic attacks first appeared, he did everything he could to keep her from finding out about them. The campus doctors subjected him to a barrage of tests to see if he had a heart condition like his mother. The tests all said the same thing. His heart was fine. His head was screwed up. He managed to hide it from her until six months into his first job after graduating. He had been pushing hard to meet a deadline for a client, living on caffeine and too little sleep. His meltdown occurred in the middle of a family dinner. His uncle used to say she would worry herself into an early grave if she wasn’t careful. That was exactly what she did. And her son had helped put her there.

L
OGAN
leaned against the front of the apartment building, trying to give Caleb time to get his shit together. On Friday, they’d only made it a block before Caleb needed to turn back. He’d probably spent the weekend berating himself, in spite of Logan’s attempt to reassure him that he’d made it further than he’d been in three years. Logan knew without a doubt that the only reason Caleb was standing here was that he wanted to help Logan and saw this as the only way to do it.
I’m helping him too
, he told his bristling pride. Squatting, he pressed his shoulder against Caleb. As Caleb tried to stop gasping like a dying goldfish on the exhaust-thickened air, Logan eyed the flow of people shuffling on the sidewalk. The late-morning traffic wasn’t too bad, and the weather had cooled to a balmy 70 degrees. Most of the business commuters were already tucked away in their cubicles, and the teens that seemed to wander the streets endlessly in the summer were still snoring in their beds. Those that remained were an eclectic collection: power-walkers, nannies and their charges, wide-eyed tourists, people trying to walk and text on cell phones and doing a piss poor job of it, real and wannabe homeboys, and the invisible vagrants with their pushcarts and layers of baggy clothing.

He leaned close to Caleb’s ear to speak over the murmur of voices and the sounds of traffic. “Do you think that guy,” he said, tilting his head toward a middle-aged man with a hideous Hawaiian shirt, “knows the chick he’s hitting on has a dick?”

That got Caleb’s attention. He stopped hyperventilating long enough to sneak a peek. The tranny had platinum-blond hair down to her pert ass and she was playing with the guy’s copious chest hair with her blood-red nails. She caught them gawking, and her eyes locked with Logan’s for a moment before trailing to Caleb. A wicked smile crossed her lips, and Logan had the irrational urge to haul Caleb upstairs and hide him away.
Great, I can add possessive to my list of admirable traits.
He pushed off the wall, dragging Caleb with him. It was only two blocks to Meng’s Market, but it seemed to take forever.

“People are staring at me,” Caleb said, his voice barely audible over his ragged breathing.

Logan wished he could put his arm around his shoulders, but he didn’t want to draw any more attention to them. They were turning heads all right. Men and women were swiveling their heads to check out Caleb’s ass, encased in a pair of gray sweats that looked glued on. His long-sleeved white T-shirt was so thin Logan could just make out Caleb’s tight nipples. Caleb’s luscious lips were parted slightly and his breathing heavy, like any second he was gonna throw his head back and come.
Yeah, they’re staring. Wondering how I can afford such a hot rentboy.

“Who says they’re looking at you? Remember back to when you first met me.”

Caleb remained quiet for a few steps. “Does it bother you?”

Up ahead, Logan spotted a mother and her young son. She pulled the boy in close and inched over until she was as far away as she could get on the sidewalk. Her wary eyes never left Logan until she’d passed by them.

“No big deal.” When Logan glanced away, he caught Caleb giving him a look that seemed to say so much:
bullshit
and
I’m sorry
and
they’re idiots
.

Caleb squeezed his elbow. “I guess I should be happy my freakiness is curable.” He bumped Logan’s arm. “You’re stuck being a giant.”

“Smartass.” Logan flicked the back of Caleb’s ear.

Caleb gave him a toothy grin, not looking the least bit chagrined. He then stopped. “We’re here.”

Logan stepped through the sliding door, trusting Caleb to follow. Caleb licked his lips, his eyes darting around the store as if counting the potential number of witnesses if he fell apart. His eyes lit when he spotted Min and Mr. Meng approaching. With a squeal of delight, Min wrapped her arms around Caleb, hugging him close. Logan felt that ridiculous urge again, wanting to peel Min off Caleb. Caleb didn’t look any happier about Min touching him. Logan tried not to be happy about that.

Oblivious to or maybe in spite of Caleb’s discomfort, Min took hold of Caleb’s hand, snatched a box from below the counter, and dragged him toward the back of the store. Logan leaned against the counter, enjoying the view of Caleb’s retreating backside. Just as they reached the dairy case, Min looked over her shoulder and giggled in a way that could only mean trouble. A yank on his sleeve had Logan glancing down at the storeowner.

“You dating Mister Klass?”

Amused, Logan peered at the old guy. “Not yet.”

Meng nodded thoughtfully before walking away. A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a large plastic bag. Holding out the bag with both hands, he offered it to Logan with his head bowed. Confused, Logan accepted the frozen bag of… something. Through the frosty plastic, he saw what looked like an earthworm on steroids with tentacles glued to its face.

“Comjang O,” Meng said, gesturing toward the bag. “Make you big.”

“Uh… thanks?” Logan had no idea what the proper response was to being given a creature straight out of a Stephen King novel or possibly
Dune
.

Apparently satisfied by the response, Meng smiled and headed back to the counter.

A few minutes later, Caleb appeared at his side, carrying a now filled box of groceries. Examining the bag, he said, “It’s even uglier when alive.”

“Uglier? What the hell is it?”

“It’s called a hagfish and alive it’s covered in this slimy mucus it uses to ward off predators.”

“Why would he give me this?”

“I guess he thought you needed it,” Caleb said with an air of absolute innocence that didn’t fool Logan for a second. After a beat he added, “It’s a Korean aphrodisiac.”

Logan groaned. “To make me big.”

After letting Logan take the box, Caleb held up the bag and peered at the contents. “It looks to be about a foot long. That would certainly be big.” He smirked. “I’ll go grab some spices to go with it.” He ran off before Logan could stop him.

As they left the store, Caleb said, “You should be honored. They don’t sell hagfish here. Mr. Meng must’ve given you one from his private stock.”

“Honored the guy thinks I need Korean Viagra?”

Caleb’s grin faltered, and Logan turned to see what had caught his eye. Karen Foster strutted toward them. Caleb’s face said he was familiar with the redhead. He wasn’t running away, but he looked like he’d be okay with the sidewalk opening up underneath him. Logan wondered if Foster had tried to sink her claws into Caleb. The thought bothered him.

Foster leaned in too close, and Logan got a whiff of her cheap perfume. Did she bathe in the shit?

“I was hoping to run into you.” Foster’s eyes widened when she caught sight of Caleb standing next to him.

“Hey, Karen,” Caleb said, taking the box from Logan as if suddenly feeling the need for a barrier between himself and the diminutive woman.

“Caleb, it’s great to see you,” Foster said, with enough false cheer to make Logan’s teeth hurt. She looked back at Logan, answering his unasked question. “Caleb worked at the warehouse part-time on the Night Sort when he was going to college.”

Logan had worked that shift a few times when they were short package handlers. He couldn’t imagine working from 11:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m. and then putting in a full day’s worth of classes. He remembered from his orientation that employees could earn money toward college tuition. Caleb had to have been dedicated to work those hours and still have time to study. It was no wonder the pressure eventually reached critical levels.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you since”—she lowered her voice—”your breakdown at the warehouse.” She put a hand to her chest. “That was so heartbreaking. I’d never seen a grown man cry before.”

Caleb’s shoulders twitched, hunching further over the box of groceries as if it could shield him from the backhanded barbs Foster was flinging at him.

“I’d heard you stopped going out entirely. And here you are risking having all these people see you fall apart.” Foster laughed, a harsh grating sound. “I don’t think I could do that.”

Trying to keep his tone even, Logan said, “We need to get the groceries back.”

Relief flashed across Caleb’s face, and he ducked his head too late to hide it.

Foster stuck out her bottom lip. “I was hoping we could talk, Logan. I’m sure Caleb can find his way home on his own. Right?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a c-cab h-home,” Caleb said, moving over to the street.

Logan grabbed Caleb’s elbow and whispered, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m worried about me, dumbass. She’ll figure out I’m a fag and disembowel me with her five-inch nails.”

Caleb shook his head. “If you pick me over her, she’ll be mad. You don’t want her mad at you, Logan.”

Caleb had a point. Pissing off Foster all but guaranteed she’d complain to Dabb. But leaving Caleb to make his way home alone wasn’t an option. “I’ll make nice and give her what she wants,” Logan said, grabbing the box of groceries from him. “But we go back together.” Before Caleb could protest, Logan stepped back over to Foster. “I’m working right now. How about we meet later or maybe tomorrow after shift?”