Carlyle's Crossing by Chris Quinton

Author:Chris Quinton [Quinton, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Total-E-Bound Publishing
Published: 2013-08-16T16:00:00+00:00

The door closed on Jubal and Sal slumped in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? Okay, Jubal’s flat-out refusal of Williams’ offer hadn’t exactly been a surprise, but his calm assumption that Sal would tag along with whatever he decided, had got right under his skin. Yet before when Jubal had mentioned the ‘we’ word, it had sparked a warm and happy glow inside him. The impression of being taken for granted had hit like a punch to his gut and triggered anger and resentment. Simply thinking about it started a grey depression lapping around him. They didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong here. He should leave, but…

Then there was this crazy knife business. Sal didn’t doubt that Jubal meant every word he’d spoken about ditching Maytown for Carlyle’s Crossing and Whitewater, but where did that leave him? His gloom deepened. ‘We’, Jubal had said to Mitcham… Did Sal want to leave the Olympian Athletics Centre and try for a physical therapy job in this small rundown town in the ass-end of nowhere? Hell, no, he didn’t. Did he want to leave Jubal to fight this crazy battle—or whatever it was—alone? No, he didn’t. Did he?

And the will—what had made Jubal do such a stupid, outlandish thing? Was he trying to buy Sal? Bribe him to stick around like some kind of second-rate trophy fuck?

‘We’, Jubal had said. And, ‘You’re a major factor in my life.’ And, ‘You’re a hell of a lot more than a fuck-buddy.’ Whatever the hell that meant, it was enough to jolt Sal free of the mental funk threatening to envelop him. Then he remembered his own words—‘I got your back, no matter what.’

“I’m fucked,” he muttered aloud, and shot to his feet, a pleasant throb in his ass reminding him how literal that short statement was.

Sal could move fast when he wanted, and he caught up with Jubal as he reached the other side of the road. “We talk,” he announced. “Soon. No holds barred, no beating around the bushes. All the facts, laid out on the table, right?”

Jubal’s smile stopped Sal’s breath for a moment. “Deal,” Jubal agreed, and they entered the house side by side.

Wendy greeted them like long lost family, and after she’d signed the house-sitting agreement, she wept on his chest, to Jubal’s obvious consternation. He patted her shoulder awkwardly.

“The place isn’t secure yet,” he said. “Pete Henning is turning up tomorrow morning to change the locks and install surveillance cameras at strategic points. I’m gonna ask him to put in a doorbell for your apartment, and route ours to the kitchen and the upstairs hallway. Once he’s done that, you can move in as soon as you like. But we need your help,” he added quickly, which effectively distracted her.

“Anything,” she assured him. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Uh, we’re thinking of moving in as well,” he said cautiously. Sal could understand why he would be. There was no telling how the woman would respond to them being gay and sharing a bed.

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