Rolling his eyes, Gev went back into his room, grabbed his cell, and patted Screech on the
head. The cat growled. Gev slid on his light jacket—it was a bit chilly this morning, though the
day looked nice enough. Perfect for a run. He pulled a ten out of his wallet and stuffed it into his
jacket pocket.
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Carolyn Gray
“I’m not running far today, but I’ll stop for coffee at Manny’s.”
Chad’s eyes lit up. “Bring me back a scone? Two?”
Gev slid one leg over the window ledge. “As if I wasn’t going to already.”
Chad patted him on the head as he bent down to go the rest of the way out. “You’re a good
boy, Gev. Beyond me why some handsome, intelligent man hasn’t seen that.”
Gev snorted. “Because handsome, intelligent men are handsome and intelligent. Intelligent
enough to know you’re far hotter than I am—and easier.”
Chad laughed. “True.”
“Don’t lock it, in case you fall asleep or something.”
“Okay, no problem. I’ll leave it cracked.”
“Not much, though. Don’t want Screech to get out.”
“Where is she? On your bed?”
“Yup. Take her if you want. Except she’s in a pissy mood. Going now.”
“She’s always in a pissy mood. Okay, have fun.”
Chad pushed the window down, leaving a two-inch crack at the bottom. Gev stuffed his
cell in his pocket. Annoying. He walked around the side of the house, past their driveway. A
sweet black Harley was parked in front of Chad’s car.
He jogged lightly down the sidewalk, which, at this time of morning—not even seven on a
Monday—was quiet. There were a couple of people walking out to their cars, but only one
looked headed to work—Frank Hodges, who owned a construction company. He waved to Gev.
Frank was a nice guy, as was his partner. They had three kids, all in high school, all girls.
His neighborhood didn’t cater to the typical Dallas employee—or family, either, for that
matter. There were few kids about. The bus didn’t come for another hour, so those houses were
probably just waking up.
Quiet mornings like this were fine with Gev. That was another reason he ran every
morning—not just to keep fit, though he knew that to be a good dancer, with a long career, he
had to take care of his body, his stamina especially. Too often he’d seen good dancers become
mediocre—like Chad had—from an excess of living. It was a tragedy, really, because he had a
great deal of talent.
Chad was a natural partner, whereas Gev had to work hard at it. Very hard. For Chad, it
was no more strenuous than a yawn. More than one of the girls had tried their best to talk Chad
into not quitting, because dancing with him—when he was on—was amazing. But it had been
useless to try to talk him into staying with the company. When Chad made up his mind to do
something, he did it.
They had that in common. Gev broke into a run.
Long Way Home
43
Chapter Seven
The coffee shop was up ahead. He was a little tired today, Gev realized as he slowed down
to an easy jog. Six hours of sleep—much of it restless—combined with the performance having
started a bit late had taken a toll. So instead of his usual route, he’d decided to run around the
block once, then head for the coffee shop.
It felt good running so early, and it didn’t take him long to reach his destination. His corner
of the city was coming to life. The early cafés were starting to open—he passed Maria’s Eats,
and Maria herself waved from the window as he jogged by. Pity Lee hadn’t stuck around. Gev
would’ve liked to have taken him there.
Gev could smell the coffee shop before he saw it. He dropped to a walk, breathing deeply,
letting his heart fall into a slower rhythm. He hadn’t broken a sweat yet either, which was good.
Manny always made a face whenever he came in all sweaty from an extensive run.
Gev held the door open for a couple of women as they were going out, then slipped inside.
Manny was busing one of the tables, whistling to himself. “Be right with you,” he said without
looking up.
“No hurry.”
Manny looked up then, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Hey, there,” he said, lips pursing
as he gave Gev the once-over. “Mm-mm. Gev, love, you lookin’ good this fine morning.” He
plucked at Gev’s shirt. “For once.”
“Not dripping with sweat, you mean?” He shook his head hard at Manny, rewarded with a
shriek.
“Cut that out now, boy.” He glared at Gev, then swiped the table again, making a
hmph
sound before heading back to the counter.
Gev followed him. “Sorry, sorry. Scones done yet?”
“Something wrong with that nose of yours?” Manny breathed in, closing his eyes, a
blissful expression on his face.
Manny’s shop always smelled like scones, but Gev breathed in, the smell making his
stomach rumble. “Smells done.”
Manny opened his eyes and stuck his hand out, palm up. “Two? Six bucks.”
“Six?”
Manny wiggled his fingers. “Everything’s gone up. Butter, sugar, me…”
Gev rolled his eyes. “You wish. Use lard instead of butter?” He laughed at Manny’s
sudden horror.
“You’d best be teasing me. Nothing but the best for my customers.” Manny poked him.
“Even you.” His gaze shifted past Gev’s shoulder.
Gev turned and watched as several men in suits got out of a car across the street.
44
Carolyn Gray
“Oh yeah, look at the pretties. Good, they’re coming in here.” Manny smoothed his hair
back. “How do I look?”
“Gorgeous, as always.” Gev declined to tell Manny about the streak of flour on his cheek.
He pulled his ten out and handed it to Manny. “Three of them, please, and I don’t mean those
three guys. I’ll leave them to you. Three scones. One for me; two I’ll take in a bag.”
“You’re no fun. You need to drop the celibacy bit. It’s not working too well for you.
Drink?”
Gev ignored the jab. Manny couldn’t fathom why Gev wasn’t one for the quick hookup,
and explaining to him was useless. Lee’s face flashed in his mind. If only. He looked up at the
menu board, skipping over the richer coffees. He had one of those only now and then, and only
off-season. “Peppermint tea, large, in a to-go cup.”
“Living large today?” Manny snatched the ten. “You owe me a dollar. You can pay me
back tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” He leaned against the counter as Manny made the tea.
The door opened, and Manny’s eyes lit up. “Watch this, youngster, and learn,” he said,
shoving Gev’s tea to him. Manny moved around the counter and sauntered over to the three suits
to take their order.
Gev carried his tea to a table, amused at his friend, and was dunking the tea bag when the
door opened again. He looked up, happy to see one of his friends walk in. “Trish, hey,” he said.
“Hey back at you. Good morning, Manny,” she called back to him.
“The usual, love?” Manny said.
“You got it.” Manny waved at her and bent back to his task. “How you doing, Gev?” she
said, ruffling his hair.
“Great.” He stood and hugged her. “When’d you get back? How was the cruise? Where’s
your woman?”
Trish kissed his cheek as she released him. “It was incredible! We got back late last night.
She’s sleeping in, made me come fetch some scones.”
“Same here for Chad.”
“At least he doesn’t withhold love and affection for not obeying.”
“No, no, I’d never willingly put myself at his mercy.”
She patted his face. “Smart lad. I’ll call you in a couple of days, after we’ve settled in.”
“That’d be great.”
“Good.” She turned toward Manny, who had finished with the three slightly bemused men.
They huddled together over their coffee, looking more and more uncomfortable. It annoyed
Gev—and Trish too. She caught his gaze and rolled her eyes. “Homophobia, alive and well even
in the gayborhood.”
“Manny will work on them.”
“Scones are ready!” Manny called out, banging his oven shut.
Gev grabbed his tea and followed Trish up to the counter.
“Here you go, Gev. And an extra for taking me to meet those ballet boys of yours.”
Long Way Home
45
“When did I promise that?” Gev said, taking the bag. At Manny’s pout, he darted for the
door. “Thanks, Manny. See you both later.”
“Call you later,” Trish said.
He raised his bag in salute and nodded as Manny turned his attention to Trish. “And how
many for you today, oh lovely world traveler…”
Gev left them to their discussion over scones and exited the coffee shop. Heading for
home, he let his thoughts turn back to Lee and their talk. Not that Lee had talked much; mostly
it’d been Nick. The guy was a real chatterbox, especially when Lee had excused himself to go to
the bathroom.
Then the words had poured out. But it was funny—it didn’t seem like Nick really knew
Lee all that well. Where Lee went when they weren’t touring, rehearsing, writing music, was
apparently as much a mystery to Nick as it’d been to Gev.
It was sad. He crossed the street, taking a cautious sip of his tea. Gev wished he’d had a
chance to talk more with Lee. Of course, now that they’d met again, there was no reason why he
couldn’t. There was no chance Lee would ignore him now.
Gev turned the corner to his street and walked across the grass to his house. He moved
toward the door, then grimaced, remembering the jammed lock. Annoyance flittered through
him, but he shook it off and started around to the side—then stopped, confused. There was
something strange… The door was open slightly. On the welcome mat his sister had bought
them—it had a cat that looked like Screech, who never welcomed anybody—was a plastic card
about the size of a credit card. He picked it up and turned it over. Just plain and white. Strange.
He pushed the door open with his shoulder while taking a sip of his tea. The scones still
smelled warm and delicious, and he kind of hoped the biker wasn’t there. He wouldn’t mind
scarfing two scones down this morning, he was so hungry.
But no, the massive, ugly boots were still there. Chad was an idiot.
“Chad, scones,” he called out into the quiet house. Nothing. He started to close the door
behind him, but before he could, Screech zoomed past him so fast he nearly stumbled. “What the
fuck, cat? Hell.” It always took an hour or so to entice the damn cat back into the house. Great.
Chad could find her—the price of Gev fetching his scone for him.
“Hey, Chad,” he said as he walked toward his friend’s room.
He stared at the mud on the hallway carpet. Damn. That hadn’t been there earli—Gev
stilled. Looked up. The door to Chad’s room was open. A stench unlike he’d ever smelled before
drifted out, souring his mouth. Smelled like shit, more than that. He grimaced. Why was mud
streaked on the carpet? Maybe he hadn’t noticed it earlier, talking to Chad, because the carpet
wasn’t exactly pristine beige anymore.
When he got closer, he realized something that registered ever so creepily within his
conscious mind. Something that changed everything.
It was blood.
Gev straightened, confused. Blood and… Then he saw it—on the bed, the walls, the…
“Oh shit,” he whispered as he stared at the very dead man sprawled on his back on Chad’s
bed, a gaping wound in his chest.
46
Carolyn Gray
He dropped the scones and the tea. “Chad!” He tore down the hallway. “Chad, where the
hell are you?” He looked at the window; it was still mostly closed, as he’d left it. “Chad?” He
stood still, outside his own room. No way.
He walked into his room but knew what he would find. Chad. Dead. Blood everywhere.
Gev’s hands started to shake. His gut roiled. He gagged. “Fuck, oh fuck, no fucking—”
Get the hell out, idiot!
Gev backed up, forced himself to turn away. There was no way Chad was still alive. In his
bed. Chad’d gone to
his
bed, to sleep. And now he was dead.
In his bed.
* * * *
mostly. But every time he closed his eyes, even for a brief second, he saw the biker, his pale
white skin slashed and bloody, guts spilling out. That’d been the smell, of course. No wonder
Screech had run.
“Here you go, babe.” Manny handed him a cup of coffee. After calling 911, Gev hadn’t
known who else to call. “This’ll set you to rights, and don’t go complaining about the calories.
You’ve had a fright, and you need a strong cup of joe. Fully leaded.”
Gev took a sip. It was harsh, bitter, yet sweet and hot and tasted damn good. Manny also
held a bag. Gev’s stomach clenched. “I don’t think I can eat right now.”
“Well, when did you eat last? Before your performance? I know how you are.”
“No, I actually went to IHOP last night. Had some pancakes.”
He and Manny watched the activity together—cop cars blocking the street, some with
lights still flashing; yellow crime-scene tape being stretched across the front perimeter of Chad’s
house.
Or what used to be Chad’s house.