suit, black pil box hat, and black leather boots.
Damn if she didn’t look a little like Darth Vader.
“You boys,” she said, descending the steps, “I can’t turn my back on my own husband for a minute without finding him making out with some guy in my own house.”
She shrugged. “Can you blame me for shooting him?”
I thought I had been in Michael’s house this whole time, but real y it was Paul’s. Somehow, though, I knew this sick little playroom wasn’t his. Looking at Alana, I understood who the real master around here was.
Or should I say “mistress?”
Alana walked over to Michael’s inert body and kicked him absently. “Useless piece of shit. Fun to play with, and not without his talents, but, stil, look at him.”
She went over to the cabinet and took out a long whip. She transferred her gun to her left hand and held the whip with her right. She flicked it with an expertise not seen since Michel e Pfeiffer played Catwoman in Batman Returns. The tip landed with exact precision on Michael’s exposed butt with enough snap to draw blood.
But not enough to rouse him.
“Useless!” Alana cried. She sneered at his backside. “Maybe if he could have kept it in his pants I wouldn’t have to clean up this mess.”
Michael had used almost the same words. Now that I had a chance to give his ass a good look, I saw that the lash mark Alana delivered today wasn’t the first one to scar him. “So,” I asked, “how long have you and Michael been having an affair?”
“Aren’t you the clever one?” she asked. “Paul had always been of little interest to me, but he was rich, and trying so desperately to be straight. I knew I wouldn’t have to put up with much sex from him so I figured ‘what the hel.’ We married, I had everything I ever wanted. Life was good.
“But, as you can imagine, things were a little boring. I had playmates, of course, men Paul knew nothing about. He was so busy with his own secrets he never suspected mine.
“When I met Michael, though, there was a chal enge. It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on between him and Paul. When I confronted Michael, he thought I’d go to the police.
Imagine that!
“I loved it! His control over Paul was amazing! Oh, together, the things we’d have poor Paul do! I’d be dripping with excitement. In the beginning, being with Michael was thril ing. Thril ing!”
She planted her stiletto heel in the smal of his back and pressed down hard. No response.
“But after a while I understood what he real y wanted. Isn’t it what al men want?” She kneeled next to him and stroked his hair. “He wanted to be told what to do. He wanted to be punished,”
She stood up and cracked the whip over his head.
“He wanted Mommy.”
Every top wants to be a bottom.
Alana narrowed her eyes. “What do you want, Kevin?”
On her lips, my name sounded like a curse.
“Wel,” I said, “now that you ask, I would real y, real y like to leave.” I walked towards my clothing.
“And don’t worry-your secrets are safe with me.
You guys just keep on doing… whatever it is you’re doing and I’l be on my way.” I reached for my pants.
“Freeze, faggot,” Alana thundered, pointing her pistol at me. I froze.
“Jesus!” she cried. “My husband, my lover, their father, you-I’m surrounded by faggots!
“Here’s how I see this going down,” she continued. “I shoot you now. When the big dummy wakes up,” she gestured towards Michael, “we’l figure out some way to make it look like you and Paul kil ed each other in a lover’s quarrel. I’l be the grieving widow and no one wil ever be the wiser.
“A year or two from now, I’l marry Michael. With al the money he’s been making at the Center, especial y after I gave him some particularly bril iant suggestions on how to increase his revenue, I think I’l be pretty comfortable, don’t you?”
Now, I was sure who was in charge. It wasn’t Paul.
It wasn’t Michael. It was Alana who held the whip.
Literal y, as it turns out.
“It was your idea to have him make those men kil themselves?” I asked her.
Her grin was pure evil. “Guilty as charged!” she said cheerily. “But those weren’t men,” she added.
“They were faggots, like you.” She looked at Paul.
His face was white as snow, but I could see his chest stil rise and fal. He wasn’t dead. At least not yet.
“Like him. Trust me, they won’t be missed.”
Her hatred of gay men, her twisted relationships with the Harrington men… it was Alana who murdered my friend, wasn’t it? I final y figured it out.
“You kil ed Al en, you psychotic little bitch!” I shouted at her. “And I miss him! And Paul misses him too!”
Alana looked at me quizzical y. “Al en? Michael’s father? I didn’t kil Al en. Why would I kil Al en?”
Damn. Was I never going to get this right? Who did kil Al en?
She pointed the gun at me.
“You, however, should not have cal ed me a bitch.”
I had run of out tricks.
There was nothing left me to do, nowhere for me to go.
I wouldn’t beg, though. Fuck her.
She pul ed the trigger. A shot rang out. Blood exploded across my face and chest.
It didn’t hurt, though.
That was weird.
Then I realized the blood wasn’t mine.
Alana fel to the floor.
Twenty feet behind her, at the top of the stairs, Tony Rinaldi stood with his service revolver in both hands. “Police-freeze!” he shouted. Then, to me,
“are you hurt?”
I’ve been happy to see that son of a bitch before in my life, but never with such good reason. If I wasn’t already in love with him, I’m pretty sure I would have fal en right then and there.
“I’m fine,” I answered.
He raced down the stairs, keeping an eye on Michael and Paul.
“I think they’re out,” I said.
Tony stood awkwardly in front of me.
“What the hel happened here?”
I pointed at Michael. “Bad guy.” I pointed at Paul.
“Good guy.”
I pointed down at Alana, who laid moaning and cursing on the floor, holding her hand over her shoulder where Tony had shot her. “Total fucking bitch. Can you shoot her again?”
Tony laughed. He put an arm on my shoulder. “My little tough guy. Are you OK?”
As shaken as I was, I couldn’t help but notice that Tony had cal ed me “his” little guy.
I had held it together for a long time, but now that Tony was here, I didn’t have to be strong anymore.
My lips quivered. “Paul real y is innocent in al this.
He needs an ambulance.”
Tony put his arms around me, keeping an eye on Michael at al times. “I’ve already cal ed one,” he said. “And backup, too.”
I started to shake in his arms. I real y didn’t want to cry in front of him again, but I wasn’t sure I could hold it in anymore.
“I’m so sorry,” Tony said gently.
“Sorry?” I sniffled. “You just saved my life.”
“No, for everything else,” he said, kissing me on the top of the head. “I love you, Kevvy.”
There was no holding back now. The tears came hot and fast as I sobbed in his arms. He kept kissing me, tel
