Lucas was more than big enough to have pushed me away. Instead, he stayed where I put him. An obedient puppy.
For now.
I tried to affect a Christian-Bale-as-Batman deep voice. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to calm the fuck down, invite me in, and maybe even offer me something to drink. Like a normal person.
“Then, you and I are going to put our heads together and figure out where Brent is. Are you cool with that? Because, if not, I’m more than happy to leave.
“I came to help you, Lucas, not to get manhandled. So, why don’t you stop acting like such a little bitch and maybe we can get to work and find our friend?”
Lucas raised his arms to shove me back. I shifted my weight to my heels. If he came after me too strongly, I was ready to protect myself.
Had I overplayed my hand? Misjudged how hard to push? My natural instincts urged me to back away, but my martial arts training gave me the confidence to remain still until he made his move, so I could use his momentum against him.
I was glad I waited. Lucas surprised me. The arms I expected to attack me instead wrapped themselves around my back. The towering mountain of man meat that fueled the masturbatory fantasies of millions was hugging me with the fervor of a five-year-old reunited with his daddy after getting lost at the supermarket.
Also like a lost little boy who’d just been found, Lucas was crying. Big, gulping sobs that shook the both of us.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He held me tightly enough to be uncomfortable. I felt his strong muscles pressed firmly against me.
Also pressed against me was his hard-on. Just like the first time he hugged me. Only, that one had been meant for Brent. This one popped up just for me.
Apparently, my berating and pushing him around had an even more dramatic effect than I’d expected. Guess I wasn’t wrong after all. That button of his was pretty dependable.
Still, as his sobs diminished and I patted his back, telling him it was all going to be fine, the mood shifted from one of confrontation to comfort. As he calmed down, the strength of his embrace and his erection diminished in equal proportions. In a few minutes, both came to an end.
He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. “You must think I’m a freak,” he said, his voice croaky and breaking. “It’s just, I miss him so much, and I thought you were him. Then, when you weren’t, I wanted to kill you. Not kill you, of course. Just make this whole mess
… go away.”
He looked around for something. My guess was it must have been a tissue, because when he didn’t find it, he untucked his T-shirt and blew his nose into the hem.
“It’s just… I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about what happened. Not anyone. Not the truth. I couldn’t even tell them he’d gone missing.”
“You can tell me the truth,” I said. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”
“The whole story?” Lucas asked.
“I kind of think you have to,” I answered. “For a whole lot of reasons.”
I didn’t add that his mental health appeared to be one of them.
Lucas nodded, to himself as much as to me. He somehow looked burdened and relieved at the same time.
“Come in,” he said, a little dazed and off his game. He started down the hallway to the living room.
“Can I get you something to drink?” His voice had a robotic quality to it. He was trying to hold it together, but I also noticed he was doing exactly as I’d instructed.
Not quite like a normal person, I concluded. But close enough.
31
“Do you mind if I wash up?” We were passing a bathroom, and I needed a moment to collect myself.
“Go ahead,” Lucas said. “You want a drink?”
“Sure. Water’s fine.”
I closed and locked the door behind me.
The bathroom was chicly high tech. All polished aluminum and glass. The toilet was one of those tricked-out jobs with a built-in bidet, warming seat, and automatic disinfection. It made me wish I had to pee. Across from it, a fifteen-inch LCD screen was built into the wall. I guess reading on the john was passe.
The linen wallpaper, marble floor, and assortment of expensive, hand-shaped soaps spoke to excess wealth. Even the towels were designer, the letters KLN embroidered across their bottom. A play on “clean,” I supposed. For what they cost, I thought they could have spelled out the whole word.
I opened the medicine cabinet. No medicine, but as vast an array of cleansing, moisturizing, and toning products as I’ve ever seen. All of it was labeled as “anti-aging” formulations, or “youth serums.” Skin tightening creams, under-eye revitalizers, wrinkle reducers… if this stuff didn’t work, the only thing left was embalming fluid. I wondered just how old Lucas’s patron was.
I could handle myself in a fight, but I was glad I’d avoided one with Lucas. Still, I was flushed with adrenaline and my heart pounded alarmingly. I splashed my face with cold water and took a deep breath. I looked at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were blazing and my nostrils flared.
A few more deep breaths. Better.
Lucas seemed crazy enough for the both of us. I had to stay calm.
“Over here,” Lucas called when he heard me close the door as I exited the bathroom. I followed his voice to the impressive living room.
Although it was early afternoon, Lucas had gotten himself a can of beer. He handed me a bottle of Evian.
When Lucas asked if I wanted to hear his “whole story,” I didn’t know he meant “from birth.” Yet, here I was, half an hour into Lucas’s recitation and he still hadn’t entered his Degrassi years. Nor was anything he’d shared- from the town in which he was born to the name of his best friend in the fourth grade-at all relevant. The only mildly interesting thing I’d learned was that he was an army brat, raised by a strict, commanding father of high rank.
I could probably tie that to his fetish for submissiveness, but it wasn’t a subject on which I wanted to dwell.
What was going on here? Why this diarrhea of the mouth?
He’s lonely, I realized. I looked around the room in which we sat and admired the Scandinavian furniture, the thick carpets, the original Rothkos and Miros that hung on the walls. All this staggeringly expensive modernity was almost made moot by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, which opened the room up to the most amazing view of New York City. A constantly changing, living tapestry of life in the world’s greatest city. I imagined it must be even more spectacular at night.
It was, I thought, the most beautiful cage I’d ever seen. Coming into the building, I’d been struck by how the redundant security measures made me feel like I was visiting a prison. Sitting with Lucas, I wondered if that’s how he felt, only from the perspective of the prisoner.
Here he was, ensconced in luxury, but unable to share it with anyone. I was willing to bet his mysterious sugar daddy didn’t encourage Lucas having friends over. Assuming he had any.
I bet Lucas rarely left this apartment. His patron wouldn’t be taking him on dates. At least, not anywhere there was a chance they’d be seen together. I had no idea how old Lucas’s supporter was, but if Lucas was an anonymous face, he might have been able to explain Lucas as an employee or nephew or something. But Lucas had a face recognizable from hundreds of pornographic movies. I didn’t know anything about his patron, but in my experience these men tended to be closeted or even married.
