Henry's End (11 page)

“I feel a lot better,” he said through clenched teeth.

Unzipping the cooler bag, Schooner began to unpack Tupperware containers filled with colored purees. “CJ has been making this homemade, organic baby food for Zac, so she’s made a whole set for you, too. They’re labeled, so that you know what they are. And there’s some adult flavored food in there in addition to the peas and carrots mush.” Schooner smiled.

“CJ made that for me?” His face was still too swollen to register shock.

Nodding, “Yeah, she did. She was really upset by what happened to you. She’s genuinely worried.”

Using the word genuine in connection with anything concerning CJ Moore felt like an oxymoron to Henry. He and his friend’s wife had never been fans of one another and he doubted they ever would be.

Henry had first been introduced to Schooner in January of their freshman year in college. His close friend and dorm mate, Mia Silver, had gotten to know the big blonde tennis player during freshman orientation at the beginning of the school year. The month of January at their school was known as Interim. During that period, many students were off-campus, traveling abroad, and taking classes overseas for the month, while other students remained on campus where they would engage in one very intense workshop class four days a week.

Schooner, Henry, Mia and their friend, Rosie, remained on campus that January, and together became a project-partner team in a workshop on music in American popular culture. The four became inseparable, working, studying, eating and hanging out together seven days a week. During what felt like a magical month, deep bonds were formed, and two very significant relationships emerged.

Schooner and Henry became close and unlikely friends – a tennis star from the all-guys jock dorm and a gay guy from the freak and stoner dorm. Each had never felt more comfortable with another male friend, shedding masks they thought they had to wear for the world, abandoning deep secrets, while learning about who they were to become as men through lessons learned via their friendship.

The other relationship that formed during Interim was between Schooner and Mia. Schooner had a girlfriend right from the start of freshman year, and they were immediately considered a power couple on campus. Even though they were freshmen, there wasn’t a soul on campus who didn’t know who CJ and Schooner were. CJ MacAllister looked like she belonged with Schooner Moore. Blonde and beautiful, the former prom queen was like a royal at court, always surrounded by her mean-girl minions that often did her bidding. That January, CJ was in Europe studying abroad.

As unlikely a pairing as Schooner and Henry, Schooner and Mia couldn’t have seemed like an odder coupling on their small, Southern California campus filled with golden boys and flaxen-haired beauties. Schooner was the quintessential California golden boy. A child model from age four, the tall blonde, blue-eyed athlete seemed like an unlikely love for the little, curly- haired brunette intellectual from New York City. Mia was a quirky, free-spirit, while Schooner fell captive to everyone’s expectations of him.

But this love that formed burned with an incandescent intensity, as each experienced that all-consuming first love. There was no doubt in either of their minds that the other was their one and only true love, the person they wanted to share an entire lifetime, their twin flame.

But fate would deal Schooner a blow so powerful that while he appeared whole and unscathed after a period of time, nothing could have been further from the truth.

Schooner Moore died on the last day of their freshman year in college. But only someone as close to him as Henry Clark would actually know his friend’s soul had vacated his handsome shell, as he slipped on a mask for all the world to see, pretending he was the same and had gone on living.

But he had not.

Coming back to Henry and Mia’s dorm after his final exam on the last day of school, Schooner’s plan had been to spend some time with Mia before she left for the airport to fly back home to New York for the summer. Greeted by an empty dorm room with no Mia, and no note from Mia saying goodbye, the handsome blonde was crushed, knowing deep in his soul that all his dreams had been ripped from him in an instant. She was gone. Just gone.

In a moment of frustration, Schooner slammed his fist into a concrete block wall in the dorm’s hallway, smashing several bones and ending his bright tennis career. Every part of what he loved died that day.

Heartbroken and not knowing why the love of his life left him, never returning to school, Schooner closed himself off to situations he couldn’t control, situations that could hurt him. Love was never going to be his focus, but building a business empire of high-end, state of the art fitness and entertainment complexes would become his life’s passion. That, and his children, became the laser focal points in Schooner Moore’s life.

Knowing Mia the way he did, Henry knew something very significant had happened on that last night of freshman year to make Mia run and never return. Schooner was so deeply entrenched in Mia’s soul that walking away and never turning back had to have been born of a deep, shattering pain. Henry knew that. And he also knew the only one with any leverage to inflict that kind of pain upon Mia, was Schooner’s ex-girlfriend, CJ.

He didn’t know what she had done. But he knew she had done something to turn fate on its axis and invoke an alternate ending to what should have been written. Although he never verbalized it to CJ, she knew that Henry thought she was involved in Mia leaving Schooner. It was an unspoken, but very clear mistrust, and because of that, Henry was a liability to her. Minimizing her husband’s contact with him would only help to ensure the safety of her treacherous secrets. So CJ MacAllister Moore generally made no bones about her distaste of her husband’s relationship with the ginger-haired gay man.

“I watched her make them and feed them to Zac, so I can vouch that there is no poison in any of them,” Schooner joked, but both men knew that the thought went through each of their heads.

“Don’t make me laugh with a wired jaw, Moore.”
CJ Moore being nice to me? Thoughtful? Quick, turn on the TV, Hell must’ve frozen over.

Edwin arrived a few minutes later, and he and Schooner left shortly after to do some shopping for Henry. Or so they told him.

“I hope he shows.” Edwin was gearing up for drama.

“Me too,” Schooner nodded, as he negotiated his Porsche 911 eastward through the streets of San Diego, “I don’t want any doubt in this scumbag’s mind exactly what happened, who did it to him and why. And our window of opportunity, before they ship him out, is almost up.”

Pulling up in front of The Hole, Schooner killed the engine and he and Edwin sat silently like two pumas in wait. After about twenty minutes of watching hot men, not so hot men, bears and biker boys descend the steep wooden staircase into their tropical patio mecca, Edwin whispered loudly, “That’s him, I’m sure of it.”

“Ok, look down, I don’t want him recognizing you.” Schooner slid on his Ray-Bans. “I’m looking at the tall, built guy, faded jeans, black V-neck tee and aviator glasses.”

“Yes, that’s him.” Edwin took a quick peek up. “I’m positive.” Quickly ducking his head back down, as if getting something from between their low bucket seats.

“I’m going to let him get settled for a few minutes.” Schooner reached over in front of Edwin and opened the glove compartment, pulling something out.

“What are you going to do with that?” Edwin asked.

“Insurance.” Schooner hit him with his beautiful catalogue cover smile.

Shaking his head, “They are going to swarm you in there.”

Schooner laughed, “I’m looking for Ryan, right? He’s the bartender with the Merlin tattoo on his arm.”

“Yes, that’s how Henry once described him to me.”

“Ok, I’m going in.” Schooner swung his long legs out of the low car.

“Good luck.” Edwin appeared nervous.

Pointing a finger at the older man, “Stay here. Do not come in until after he leaves. I don’t want him near you.”

With a reassuring smile, Schooner was off, heading down the steep wooden staircase toward the patio. As he got to the bottom of the stairs, he whispered, “Showtime,” to himself.

Moving through the crowd with a slow grace, the athletic blonde was getting his fair share of double-takes as he scanned the crowd looking for his target. Out of his pants pocket, he pulled a small disposable camera and took a few random shots of the packed club.

With the bar straight ahead, he continued to move in that direction, and as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark indoor space, he was pleased to find the Marine bellied up to the bar. Snapping a few more shots, this time clearly of Cody as he approached, he put the camera back into his pocket and made his way up to the bar, where he stood right next to his target.

“Is that a bottle of Glenfiddich 18 year old I see on the back shelf?” Schooner asked the blue-eyed bartender with the Merlin tattoo.

“It sure is.” The bartender was impressed.

“I’ll take a double. Straight up.”

“Now, that’s a man’s drink,” the Husky-eyed guy standing next to him commented.

Schooner turned, making eye contact, “Yeah, well, it’s my drink,” and tossed back the single malt scotch.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” Cody commented.

“It’s not a place that I usually come. But it happens to be a favorite spot of a friend of mine,” he paused. “Although he hasn’t been here in a few weeks.”

“Too bad your friend didn’t bring you here before,” Cody was starting to flirt.

Just on the other side of the bar, Ryan was watching Cody flirt with the incredibly handsome blonde and wondered if he and Henry had broken up. With the way the big Marine was eyeing the equally built guy, Ryan assumed the two were no longer together and wondered if that was why he hadn’t seen Henry all month.

Ignoring the Marine, Schooner turned to Ryan, “Do you guys have interaction with the management and staff of other clubs around town?”

“Gay clubs?” Ryan clarified.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, we do. We kind of have a reciprocal policy as far as no cover charges for staff and usually the bar managers stay in touch, especially if there’s been problems around town.”

“Oh interesting. So if there were someone that they wanted to warn their staff to keep an eye out for, that info would get shared?”

Leaning with his elbows on the bar, chin in hand, Ryan corroborated Schooner’s supposition. “Oh absolutely, that’s totally critical in keeping both our patrons and community safe.

Nodding his head, Schooner reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a disposable camera, handing it across the bar to Ryan. “Good. Then you’ll probably want this.”

“What’s on there?” The Marine was suddenly interested in their conversation.

Ignoring him and focusing on Ryan, “You may want to share the photos on there with the other bars.”

The bartender looked at him quizzically and Schooner continued, “Dude’s a closet-case fucking homophobe who landed a buddy of mine in the hospital seriously injured after he beat the shit out of him for being, as he put it, a ‘fucking fag’.” Schooner turned to the Marine, his voice dripping with venom, “Sound familiar, asshole?”

Caught off-guard, it took but only a second for Cody to recover, his face hardening, shoulders falling back, taking him to his full height, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, just like you didn’t know you had a wife and kids.” Inches from him, Schooner’s chest was nearly grazing his opponent’s. “Henry’s mistake was trusting you.”

“Henry?” Ryan’s voice was filled with shock. He stood paralyzed for a moment and then looked down the bar, signaling something to one of the other bartenders.

“He sent you to fight his battles?”

“Listen, you douchebag coward, I don’t need to lay a hand on you to fuck you up.”

“You think you can fuck me up?” with a raised voice he chest-bumped Schooner who didn’t budge.

“I already have, you moron,” laughing, Schooner just smiled calmly in his face.

Inches from his target, Cody’s eyes narrowed, taking in Schooner and making a final assessment on the best way to take down the other man who held his eye contact steadfastly. This was going to be exactly the kind of fight Cody loved, knowing his training would give him the edge to do some serious damage to his opponent.

Security at The Hole could easily be mistaken for either Hell’s Angels or members of ZZ Top. Schooner watched as they descended upon the Marine from behind, each grabbing an arm, the element of surprise immediately registering on Cody’s face.

“Time for you to leave, scumbag,” a raspy-voiced bouncer yanked Cody away from the bar as they started to drag him toward the patio and the establishment’s exit.

“Hey Asshole,” Schooner yelled out and the security detail stopped.

Sneering, Cody looked back at Schooner, vendetta raging from his intense blue eyes.

Lifting his scotch glass, which he was thrilled to find Ryan had wisely refilled, he tipped it to Cody, “Enjoy your new hell hole in Baghdad, douchebag,” and with a smile, he threw back his scotch and turned back to the bar.

“Grab a glass for yourself,” Schooner offered and Ryan quickly filled a second glass. Clinking glasses, “To banishing scum.”

“How is Henry?” Ryan was concerned.

“Healing. At least externally.” Schooner’s concern matched the bartenders.

“I guess I should let the other bars know.” Ryan lifted the disposable camera.

“I don’t think he’ll be around long enough. That fucker has no clue how quickly he’s about to be deployed.”

“You weren’t kidding about Baghdad?” Ryan’s voice registered shock as he poured himself and Schooner another drink.

With a slow handsome smile, Schooner shook his head, “No. I took the pictures just to fuck with him. Extra insurance. My family is very fond of Henry. They’ve known him a long time and couldn’t believe what that animal did to him. My dad has some pretty influential contacts and he made some well-placed calls.”

“He peeled out of here like a bat out of hell,” Edwin was upon them. “He was pissed.”