The Darker Side of Trey Grey (32 page)

The sheet he had handed me stated no anal penetration, and I had found that rather unusual. However, I wasn’t about to argue. It had been a monstrous relief actually. I mean, how cool was that? All my anguish and incertitude had dissolved instantly when I read those three words. At least with Freddie I wouldn’t feel like I was cheating on Justin.

Now tomorrow night, that would be a completely different animal.
Lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my.

* * * * *

Classes whipped by much faster than I cared them to. I wanted to see Dr. Greene, but at the end of the session I would turn away from Justin and drive straight to Paradise. Working the Ave in a less than hospitable mood was nothing new. I would plaster on a fake smile and the deviants would be none the wiser. Not that tricks cared about my mood as long as I did my job and got them off.

I walked out of the elevator and across the hall, stepping into the reception area at five minutes to five. The receptionist gave me an icy look as she grabbed her purse then swung the inner office door open. I guess she had been waiting for me, and five minutes early, wasn’t early enough for her.

So, interestingly, Doc and I would be alone. I felt my lips turn up over this. If ever there was a man I had zero fear of, it was Dr. Greene. The man was as asexual as a turnip, and about as scary. As I walked into his office he strengthened my opinion of him with his green and blue tweed suit. It was about the most hideous thing I had ever seen. I would bet it was vintage, but come on, it should have been left to rest in its own era. I sat down on the mustard couch, snaffling up a blue and gold stripped throw pillow. Doc settled in his chair.

“Doc.”

“Trey, how have you been since the last time I saw you? Better I hope?”

I hugged the pillow and gave him half a smile. “Sometimes.”

He nodded at my short answer, seeming to understand. “Is there anything specific you want to talk about?”

“How do I begin to forgive myself— I mean, I’m not sure I can without help.”

He glanced down, and I caught his amazed smile. I had actually taken the good Doc by surprise.

He met my eyes. “Trey, you’re already on your way and don’t even know it.”

Now it was my turn to look surprised, but I wasn’t smiling. “I don’t understand.”

He adjusted himself in his chair, tugging at the sharp pleat in his trousers, before tenting his hands and turning his attention back to me.

“Do you really believe you could have a relationship with anyone if you hadn’t begun to forgive yourself of your past?” His eyebrows disappeared into his froofy hair. “And based on that fond expression, I am going to assume Justin is still solidly in your life.”

I nodded as my brain processed what the Doc had told me. The discovery made me feel warm and almost fuzzy. Still, I waited for my mind to kick out the big fat
but
I knew was coming. I frowned when it arrived.

“How long will I have nightmares? Will they ever go away?”

He sighed, lowering his hands to his lap. “I doubt it. They’re a part of you, and I am sorry to say, I have no definitive answer.” He shook his head as his face puckered sourly. “I’ve been working with abuse victims a long time, and there is never an easy answer to give to a question like that. Each person is different. Their minds, the abuse they suffered, the abuser, environment, all create a unique situation. As much as I help victims recover, they teach me to be a better therapist. Each and every one of the patients I have had the pleasure of meeting, has taught me something.” He paused and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“Trey, you’re unlike anyone I have ever met, in or out of this office.” His eyebrows rose as he smiled. “I didn’t expect you to actually begin a relationship, but you did, and you dove in with everything that you are.” He slapped his knee causing me to flinch. “I never would have believed it, except I saw it with my own eyes. You shocked me.”

“It’s not perfect, our relationship I mean. I would say we’re muddling through at best.”

“Oh, I don’t believe you. I think you’re doing a fair bit better than muddling based on what I witnessed at the hospital. Sorry, that wasn’t a professional response. Please, tell me why you think so?”

Our session had taken on a conversational rather than therapeutic tone, and I was actually enjoying the fact he was talking to me like a friendly acquaintance, rather than a broken client. I decided to continue in a like-minded fashion.

I told him in detail about the handcuffs working, trying to stab myself with a sex toy— he grinned behind his hand at my own amusement over this— my suicidal consideration, Justin’s dislike of my suicidal consideration, how I had been so involved with myself I had been blinded to Justin’s needs— he held a hand up.

“Trey, are you listening to what you are saying?”

“Not exactly, but I lived it so I know the gist.”

“Hm...” He leaned back and tapped his fingers on his lips as he stared thoughtfully at the wall above my head. “Please, go on.” He gestured with his hand, bringing his attention back to me.

I finished by telling him I had been nightmare free for two nights now, but that I knew it was only a reprieve. I left out the promises Justin and I had made to each other, as well as his drawings of me. Those things felt personal and somewhat tenuous right now. And although it might have been entertaining to watch Doc squirm, I resisted temptation, skirting the sexual aspect of our relationship as well.

Dr. Greene never once set pen to pad, and now sat with a rather enamored expression on his face. It wasn’t lewd, more like fatherly, and it made me uneasy, causing me to hug the pillow closer.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I can make any enlightening remarks about your concerns. You mention being angry at yourself for overlooking Justin’s needs, then you reconciled with yourself by stating you hoped to be more attuned to him in the future. There really isn’t anything I can add to that. You’ve already learned from your mistake. As for your attempts to harm yourself, well, the only quick answer would be heavier medications. You mentioned being tethered worked, yet I take it you’re worried about the times you two aren’t together?”

I picked at a loose thread along the seam of the pillow. “Yes.”

“Trey, there is a chance you have already conquered this problem on your own by admitting you really don’t want to die. But I do understand your ongoing concern, and if you like, I could prescribe a sleeping pill that would work with your sedative.”

“No, I don’t like sleeping pills. I can’t wake up when I need to.”

He tilted his head, tenting his fingers again. “What about cuffing yourself to your own bed?”

“I’ve thought about that. My mind would know where the keys are and I’m afraid I would just let myself go. It might sound strange but I’ve had much weirder things happen while asleep.” I stretched and rubbed my face, knowing this was a moot discussion.

“My only other suggestion would be to remove all objects you could possibly harm yourself with from your room. There is one other option, you could admit yourself for a sleep evaluation, but I don’t see a positive side in your case.” He shrugged apologetically.

“What would you do with another patient?” I asked.

He crossed his ankle over his knee exposing his navy dress sock before shaking his head curtly.

“Admission to a mental hospital,” I said, wrinkling my nose as I sighed. Not happening.

“Two weeks mandatory for your first attempt,” he said gently.

“I’m not ready for that.”

“I didn’t think you were. That’s why it wasn’t an option.”

* * * * *

Turning left out of the parking lot, away from Justin, was harder than I thought it would be. Every part of me wanted to turn right. Kitten was even pissed, grinding into second gear despite her clutch pedal hitting the floor.

“I know, baby, just a few more weeks and it will all be over, I promise,” I told her as I pushed her gas pedal down, shooting onto I-405.

* * * * *

I fell into bed just after three in the morning, exhausted and sullen. The night had been a vile array of tricks completely devoid of any of my regulars. A waste of time filled predominantly with straights wanting cheap hand jobs and blow jobs. However, the four hundred pound woman who smelled like a cross between sour milk and a cat box had been my doom, and I ran home to clean off the stench. I had managed to stop myself before I drew blood, but my days without scrubbing had left my skin soft, and now it was so raw even my flannel sheets were chafing. Somehow, despite the discomfort, I fell asleep.

* * * * *

“NO, NO, NO,” I screamed at Willie, struggling against his tight hold.

“Go ahead and scream. Mmm... Your mom’s out for the night. Ah-h.”

His thing jabbed my legs, jab, jab, jab.
Why did he do this? Why did he make those noises?
I didn’t like it. But he wouldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop.

His big body shifted on top of me. “OW, OW, that hurts, stop, stop.” Why won’t he stop? Jab, jab, jab against my bottom. “Mommy, MOMMY.” I screamed through my sobbing.

* * * * *

My eyes snapped open as I kicked furiously at my sheets. “Fucker,” I ground out on a panting breathe. “Fucking pedophile, fucking rapist.” I swallowed the sob that rose and sat up.

I heard Justin’s ringtone through my hazy rage. “Where the fuck’s my phone.” I rubbed my damp eyes trying to get them working in the early morning light. I blinked a few times as I glanced around my room, and then zoomed in on it near the microwave just as it quit playing the into to
Bohemian Rhapsody
. I untangled my legs from my twisted sheets and went to retrieve it. Justin called again just as I was picking it up.

“Sorry, my sheets had a hold of me.”

“You didn’t call me last night you bastard,” Justin cried into the phone.

Shit, shit, shit.
“Oh Jesus, Justin, I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t help, but I am.”

“You fucker you can’t do this to me.”

His voice was at about the same pitch as a loose fan belt, and I could picture him pacing the house completely overwrought with worry. I didn’t like it, not one bit. I felt small, and sick, and guilty, and fucking helpless.

“I know. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Is Kelly there with you?”

“No,” he squeaked.

My heart squelched through my rib cage, landing with a splat at my feet. Not literally, but that’s what it felt like. I closed my eyes and thanked the powers that be for keeping him sane enough to deal with my stupidity.

Sane or not, it took almost half an hour before his voice dropped back into its normal range. Another thirty minutes before he calmed down sufficiently enough, that I felt it was safe to let him off the phone.

With a dangerously burdened heart and my mind in turmoil, I lumbered to my morning econ class.

I knew... damn it, I
knew
better. I couldn’t get Justin’s frantic voice out of my head. My leg bounced as I thumbed through my call history for the hundredth time. His frantic voice was still scaring me, and all sorts of horrific variables kept popping into my mind. I couldn’t believe I had slept right through his frenzied calling. He had called nineteen times beginning at midnight. The calls coming closer and closer together until I had finally answered my phone at six-thirty. God, how could I be so stupid.

I stared at my cell, trying to remember Kelly’s number. I was usually quite good at recalling numbers, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember the last four digits of hers, damn it.

Someone bumped against the back of my head. I looked up to discover class was over, and I hadn’t heard one word. Not that it mattered. I was ready for finals, and only attended classes to keep Dean Williams and Tom Capri off my back. They needed to stay happy because I needed my scholarship. I grabbed my book bag, stood up, and called Justin.

He didn’t answer. Three seconds later he texted;
What?

I texted back;
Jst cking. Worried abt u.

He didn’t text back. I continued to call between classes, and he continued to text single words like;
fine, whatever, busy.

I left him a voicemail before I headed to work asking if he wanted me to come after work, or in the morning, or at all.

He immediately texted back;
tonight.

After a day of rejection, that one word had me breathing a sigh of relief. The ache that had resided in my chest since this morning, eased minutely. At least he still wanted to see me.

As I opened the door into Paradise, Benny smiled his warm smile. It didn’t help much to lift my spirits, but it was comforting nonetheless.

“Your pretty face is almost pretty again,” he said of my bruises.

“Yeah, I heal quick.”

“Salvo had to take Nikki home.” Benny’s face drooped as he shook his head. “She came to work hopped up on something. I don’t understand people who do that to themselves.”

“Neither do I, buddy.” I clapped his shoulder before heading in.

The place was a wave of bodies, and it smelled like the end of a night, not the beginning. Alcohol, sweat, and the nip of sexual frustration scented the air. It was busy even for a Friday night. I jostled through the boisterous crowd, leaned on the bar and waited to catch Tim’s eye. It took a few minutes before he finally spotted me, and I slid kitten’s keys to him. I gave him a sympathetic smile over the melee and he shrugged, nonplussed, as he tossed my keys under the bar.

Outside I lit a smoke, and headed to my corner.
Oh, Fuck
. I stepped off the sidewalk, and stopped, milling around near the chain link fence. I squinted trying to see through the erratic blue and red lights. I laughed when I spotted Hopper in handcuffs being gently
forced
into the police cruiser. It served the skank right for hustling my corner. Not that I hadn’t spent a few nights in jail over the years, but I had served my time and learned from my mistakes.

It had been a lot harder to avoid the popo when I first started hustling. Back then they could still use unmarked cars. But now... getting caught was pure stupidity. How the hell did the idiot miss a cruiser?

I waited and smoked, looking like a patron of Paradise that stepped out for some fresh air. The cop car finally pulled away, and shot right past me. If they were cruising I had an hour before the next drive by. The cops around here didn’t try very hard, or maybe they tried to give us a chance to be smart. Either way, I was wise enough to have figured out their schedule a long time ago, along with Marie, and some of the other old-timers.

As my foot stepped from the crumbly asphalt onto the concrete sidewalk, a car pulled around the corner and didn’t stop until it reached my ally. I changed course, and followed the white Mercedes. Molly. She must have been watching Hoppers arrest.

I opened the rear door. “Molly, darling—”

“Get the fuck in here and close the door before they see the damn light.”

“Nice to see you too. They won’t be back for an hour.” I slid in and closed the door.

She shuffled over the seat and right onto my lap, sliding her hands under my shirt. She knew how much I disliked cold hands and her’s were pleasantly warm. As we traveled through our mostly unfaltering routine, an odd melancholy settled over me. The only thing that ever changed with her was position. She either rode me or I rode her, depending on her mood.

She was needy tonight so her ass rode me. She was a total anal slut while her stodgy husband was a two-position fuck, and only once a month. He allowed her some sexual freedom, and in payment, she played the perfect executive wife. I smiled when she swore colorfully as my thumb brought her to climax. She fell against my chest, and I nosed her neck, enjoying the Giorgio that was always there.

“I’ll miss your scent,” I murmured as I wrapped my arms around her.

She lifted her head off my shoulder. “What?”

“I’m retiring, Molly.”
 

“When were you planning on telling me?”

“I just did.” I chuckled.

She smacked my chest. “Bastard. Freddie?”

“No, although I do like your brother.” I paused, loosening my hold as she leaned back to look at me. “I made a promise,” I told her.

Her finger traced my cheekbone. “I’ll miss you.”

I nodded, pulling her against me. “I know.” I swallowed. “Three weeks, Molly, then I’m gone.”

She shook her head, her fiery hair grazing across my cheek. “No, I won’t come back.” She pushed herself up, taking my face in her hands. She pressed her lips to mine then climbed off me, clambering ungracefully into the front seat, as I cleaned up.

I had my hips lifted so I could zip my jeans when she leaned back, sliding my pay into the front pocket. She retrieved her panties from the floor and tossed them over her shoulder then sighed.

She tipped her head at me. “Take care of yourself.”

I smiled at her. “You too. Stay away from the streets.” I opened the door and stepped out. She’d been a loyal client for two years and it was hard to watch her drive off one last time.

My Zippo flashed against the end of my cigarette and I drew in the acrid smoke, savoring it, before I headed back to my corner. The sounds of squealing tires and honking horns brought my head up. “Oh shit.” The camo Hummer peeled backwards, and all but disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke. Dirk the jerk. I smiled despite myself.
It’s a party now
. I shook my head and sighed.

He ground a gear on his army issue Hummer as he turned towards me. Dirk really wasn’t a jerk. He was a retired WWE wrestler, who had suffered a blow or two too many to his cranium. He was loud, rough, and fuckin’ huge. I used to go home and cry after he screwed me. Willie thought it was hilarious. Me not so much, but I was used to him now.

For a long time I thought Dirk was a pedophile, but no, he just liked pretty small things he could pick up with one hand. He even tried to kidnap me once, only I was eighteen at the time so it wouldn’t have technically been
kid
napping. He just tossed me in his Hummer and drove off. I told him what he was doing was illegal, and that he would go to jail. He had stammered out that he just wanted to take care of me. He couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t let him. He still didn’t.

The Hummer lurched to a halt, and I braced when I heard the door slam shut. Dirk rammed into me, hoisting me up as he licked my neck, making me cringe a little.

“Oh little one, I missed you.” He dropped me, and I grabbed his leather vest to keep from tumbling backwards. “Dude, I had the most amazing two months with this cute doll-of-a-blond. Oh man, the little guy was amazing.” He had a hold of his tangled graying mane of hair and was tugging at it aggressively.

“What happened?” I asked, taking a step back to avoid his flailing elbows. This was the other thing about Dirk. He always had to tell me about his sexual escapades.

“Oh, dude, he was a freaking nympho. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Man I loved him.” Dirk kept yanking at his long hair and pacing in a jerky circle.

“Did you scare him?”

He stopped, letting his hair go, and throwing his hands into the air. “He said I did.”

“Yeah? Well, you used to scare the shit out of me too.”

“I don’t scare you anymore?” His dark eyes rounded comically.

I raised my eyebrows at him and smirked. “Not as much. You have to learn to take care of your toys, big guy. I’ve told you that before.” I shot him a reprimanding look.

His face fell as he scuffed his huge boot on the ground.

“Did you just come down here for relationship advice?” I asked, trying not to laugh at his wounded appearance.

He shook his head quickly. “No.”

I didn’t tell Dirk I was retiring for fear he would try to take me home again. He fucked me with his steroid-altered, battering ram of a cock, and then I let him coddle me like a doll before I sent him on his way. I leaned against the wall of the Laundromat, hidden in the shadows, until my ass recovered. I kept clenching it and wriggling around while I puffed on a smoke. By the time I reached the filter, I had worked most of the soreness away. I would miss most of my regulars, but Dirk, not so much.

* * * * *

I headed home, having finished the evening safely stowed from the cops in frick and frack’s mini van. Their real names were Joe and Jeff, but the latter fit them. They were an energetic, pot smoking, couple of giggling gay men that had been together for at least twenty years. They had a true love of threesomes, and rather than cruise the bars and be disappointed, they came to me because
I was a professional
. It was actually because I could fuck them both without “IT” wilting, and they found that
amazing
.

They always took an hour or more, but it was an easy six-hundred. They liked to build up to as climactic an end as they could. So it was some sucking, lurid talking, more sucking, more talking, fucking, talking, more fucking, and then they were done.

Like Justin and I, there wasn’t a top or bottom in their relationship. They cherished each other as individuals. Even now, a person could tell they were still in love, not to mention lust, with each other. I saw them differently tonight. What they had was rare and beautiful, and stayed with me all the way back to my dorm room.

Before I stepped into the shower I texted Justin to let him know I missed him and I was on my way.

He didn’t text me back.

The whole drive over was a fast blur. I knew in my gut he was okay, but my mind conjured up all kinds of heinous things like; overdose, drowning in his tub, cutting until he bled out, drinking his paint thinner. Not to mention whether he would even allow me in the house. Damn, I wish I had Kelly’s number.

A drizzle had begun to fall while I was in the shower. It became a sideways deluge as kitten and I rocketed across the bridge. What if he decided I was too much trouble? I couldn’t blame him if he did. I was pretty high maintenance and not in a humorous way. I shifted to fourth as I glided kitten into traffic on I-405.

I slammed her steering wheel, downshifting to third. You would think people who lived in
Seattle would know how to drive in the rain. But they didn’t. Instead we all got to crawl along at forty MPH, on the freeway for God’s sake, at one in the morning.

I turned on the stereo and Queen blasted through the speakers. “No.” I hit the changer; AC/DC’s Back in Black album, “No.”; Nirvana, “No.” I hit the brakes hard, sending kitten skidding. I blared her horn at the idiot who dove in front of me then had the audacity to slow down. He waved in his rearview mirror at me.

“Fucker.” I showed him my pretty finger then switched to the radio, hitting the presets until Seether’s growly tone filled the interior.

A few minutes later I bumped down the drive, relieved to see Kelly’s white Honda, and the house looking peaceful. I parked next to Fawkes, grabbed my bag, and ran through the rain to the door. I lifted my fist up to knock.
What the hell am I doing?
I practically lived here, or at least that was the consensus until last night. I walked in and found Kelly curled up on the couch with popcorn and a movie. She looked up at me, smiled, and then cringed.