Eternally His by Shawn Lane

Author:Shawn Lane [Lane, Shawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2017-02-11T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Henry Littlefield opened the door of the room Xavier used as a dressing room.

Empty.

He’d hoped after having to cancel Xavier’s performance the night before that Morton would arrive early for tonight’s performance. He took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead.

At least he hadn’t gotten a call saying Xavier wouldn’t show tonight. He took out his cell phone to make sure he hadn’t missed a call or a text. Nothing. Good.

Henry hated dealing with flighty rock performers, and Morton was flightier than most. Probably the gay thing, Henry decided. He’d never managed anyone quite like Morton before. And his damn boyfriend, Graham, was scary as hell. Like some big guy out of a gladiator movie.

With his index finger, he punched the number for the speed dial for Morton, then waited through three rings, mopping his forehead during the second ring.

“Henry?”

Relief made him giddy. He laughed. “Ah, thank God. Are you on your way?”

“Yes,” Morton said. “But we need to talk.”

“Talk? No time for that. I’m going to have a club full of horny young people panting to see you in just a few minutes.”

“That’s fine, but we need to talk. About the future.”

“Well, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” And that was certainly true. Morton’s Xavier character was really catching some attention. Henry knew this kid could go far and, therefore, so could Henry.

“I know. And I want to move out of the club. Go other places.”

Henry smiled. “That’s great. We’ll talk about getting that going after tonight’s performance. In a few weeks—”

Morton sighed. “No. Tonight’s club performance is the last one. I want to change venues immediately.”

“What? That’s not possible. We have a contract.”

“Break the damn contract, Henry.” Another sigh. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. We’ll talk then.”

And Morton was gone. Henry grimaced and returned his phone to his pocket. He did not need this.

Break the contract.

“Oh, yeah, it’s so easy,” he said aloud, sarcastically. He needed a damn drink is what he needed. He went to Morton’s fridge. He didn’t remember ever seeing any alcohol in there, but he decided to check before going out to the bar.

Frowning, he saw nothing but the blue bottles containing Morton’s tomato juice concoction. He couldn’t help wondering just what Morton put in them. Probably not alcohol, but one never knew. Henry grabbed one and twisted the cap off, raising it to his nose to sniff it for any hint of vodka.

Eyes wide, he quickly twisted the cap back on and returned it to the fridge. He might be crazy, but the contents did not smell like tomato juice. Swallowing heavily he backed away from the fridge.

“It’s not like it’s going to get you,” he said to the empty room.

But damn it, the stuff Morton had been drinking smelled like blood. He’d swear to it. Admittedly artistic types tended to be extremely strange. But consuming blood? That was totally nuts.

Henry wasn’t sure how he felt about having an unstable client. Maybe Morton and Graham were some sort of weirdo serial killers or something.

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