Page 362 of A Matter of Time

He squinted. “No, man.”

“I—”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Were you at Jerry’s?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I was the guy in the trunk of the car that you and your buddy stole.”

His brows rose, almost disappearing into his hairline. “Oh shit! Me and Billy were wondering what the hell happened to you.” He looked me over. “What the fuck were you on, man?”

“I was on a lot of shit. But I need to find out where I was before I got put in the trunk of the car. There’s a hundred in it for you and your buddy to split if you can show me the place.”

He nodded. “Sure, man. But we gotta hit a club first. You come with us, and as soon as we do our thing, we’ll go, all right?”

“Perfect,” I agreed.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing hold of my parka, leading me inside the liquor store. “What’s your name?”

“Jory.”

“I’m Zach.”

I followed him to his friend Billy, who was coming out of the back room of the store when we found him. He seemed just as amazed to be meeting me.

“What club is it?” I asked Zach.

“The Dirty Blonde,” he told me. “Do you know it?”

I didn’t, but I hadn’t spent much time in the part of town where I currently was.

“We’re meeting our boss there. His name’s Rego and it’s his club.”

I nodded, pointing at Billy’s hand. “And those are what—poppers?”

He shrugged. “Sure. We got other stuff too. Tell me what you want and I’ll hook you up.”

“No, thanks.” I smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

There was in me the desire to know things about people. All people—everyone I met. I was compelled to dissect them and find out what made them tick. So slowly, gently, as we walked, I asked questions. Zach, was from Wisconsin. He had moved to the city three years ago to go to college after he graduated from high school. He had, as of yet, not started. He didn’t really like the idea of studying. What he did like, however, was to party with his friends. Because keeping a job with an addiction to crystal meth had proven problematic, he had ended up living with his friend Billy.

William “Billy” Donavan and Zachary “Zach” Baer had met at a club and been inseparable at once. They were both young and hot, so it made sense. Zach was built like a swimmer, with long, lean muscles, short, curly brown hair, and dark blue eyes. Billy was a little taller, built thicker, with broad shoulders and heavier muscles. His hair was more of a golden brown, and his eyes were greenish brown, lighter than hazel but close. They fit together, and so when his other roommates had finally evicted Zach from his apartment, Billy had taken him in. The problem was that Billy didn’t pay his rent with money; he paid it by working for Rego James.

Mr. James owned several clubs in the city, and he also apparently had a lucrative escort service on the side. Rego had no problem with Zach sleeping on Billy’s couch, which was basically his couch since he paid the rent there, as long as Zach turned the same tricks that Billy did. They basically did whatever they wanted whenever they wanted, but if Rego needed them to go somewhere or do somebody, they had better jump. It took a lot of money to keep the drugs coming, and that was why they had stolen the car. What Rego had given them from the last party was gone, and there was no money for food or anything else. The hundred I was offering looked really good.

“So, William, how did you meet this Rego guy?”

He had more of a wary look than Zach did, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if he was going to tell me, but he suddenly smiled. “Call me Billy.”

“Sure.”

Billy had been in the city since he was sixteen, having left home in his junior year of high school. Fresh off the bus from Knoxville, Tennessee, Rego had found him sleeping in the doorway of one of his clubs and had offered to take him for breakfast.

“He took me to his place, and that was it—I didn’t even know I was gay until then.”

I squinted at him, holding back the real questions I wanted to ask. “How old are you?”

“I’m nineteen, Zach’s twenty—he just turned two weeks ago.”

“You guys ever wanna go home?”