Page 10 of Mutual Obsessions

After I got my food, I went to the office and took the stairs to the third floor where the war room for the oil rig case was located. I saw the stack of depositions left for me on the table and wanted to bang my head against the wall. There were at least two hundred and fifty of them, and considering the trial was in less than two weeks, I was getting a clearer picture of what my next several nights and weekends would look like.

I wolfed down my breakfast sandwich and drank my coffee before hurrying to my office to get my laptop. Once I returned, I snatched the first deposition off the stack and opened the cover.

Summarizing someone else’s testimony about what they knew or saw regarding a massive oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico wasn’t dissimilar to watching paint dry. According to more than one witness, there had been warning signs of problems on the oil rig platform that the company ignored.

The platform was about a hundred and thirty miles off the Louisiana coast, and twenty workers lost their lives because of faulty infrastructure. Danvert & Rogers represented the families of the workers who were killed, and learning the ins and outs of life on a massive drill in the middle of the Gulf wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do that weekend.

I worked until midnight before deciding to call it a night and return in the morning. I went to my office and dropped off my laptop before I changed into the shorts and a T-shirt I’d brought in my messenger bag. Once I was ready, I took the stairs down and out the back door, running toward home.

I was about to take Canal Street to avoid the traffic—both pedestrian and automobile—but something made me run to Iberville and up to Royal. I had to slow down because of the foot traffic, but I stopped completely when I got to The House of Tremblay.

There, standing on the street in front of the restaurant, was my best friend Cubby. He was holding a short man in his arms, and they were swapping spit like tomorrow was the end of time. They broke the kiss, and the guy dragged Cubby to the alley beside the restaurant.

I wound my way through the crowd until I was at the end of the alley. Something odd was going on, and I worried about my friend.

Peering around the corner of the building, I saw Cubby and the guy midway down the alley. The guy dropped to his knees in the dirty, smelly alley, taking Cubby’s shorts with him.

“Shit!” I couldn’t hold in the gasp when I saw what was about to happen. The man on the ground quickly turned his face to where I stood.

“You’re welcome to watch. He’s going to love it.” The voice coming out of the guy was surprising. It was deep and sent a shiver up my spine.

I took a step into the alley and grabbed my phone from my messenger bag, turning on the flashlight app just as the guy swallowed Cubby’s cock. My friend didn’t even blink as I shined the light on him. I quickly moved the light down Cubby’s body to see who was servicing him in the alley.

It had been early when I left that morning, so I hadn’t seen Cubby all day, nor did I know his plans for the night. He was supposed to be in Denver by the end of summer. I would have guessed he’d be at the house packing, but there he was getting what appeared to be a damn thorough blow job.

“Ah!” Cubby’s gasp had my dick hardening, even though I didn’t think of my friend that way.

Suddenly, the guy turned to me with a scowl on his face. “Turn it off!” I shined the light on his face, and I could swear he had blood on his chin.

“Cubby, man, it’s me, Ryker. Are you okay? Pull up your pants before you get arrested for indecent exposure.” I started walking down the alley to get my friend away from whoever was on his knees. In a heartbeat, the guy popped up and moved between Cubby and me.

“He’s okay. We met last night, remember? I’m Rory Tremblay.” I still couldn’t make out his face because the alley was dark, but the voice sounded familiar. It was the guy who had been interested in Cubby last night.

A moment later, Cubby stepped around Rory, having tucked himself into his pants. “Ryker, man. You’re a buzzkill. What are you doing here?”

“I’m on my way home from work. I saw him drag you back here, and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t mugging you or something. Come on. Let’s go home.”

Cubby laughed. “I didn’t figure you for a cockblocker, Ryker. I’m going with Rory upstairs. I’ll be home sometime tomorrow.”

Suddenly, Cubby swayed on his feet. I reached out for him, but Rory grabbed him. “You interrupted me before I could fix it. Go away.” He flipped Cubby over his shoulder, and he was around the corner in an instant. I hurried to the back of the building, but they were gone.

I raced down the back alley, but no one was in sight. I ran back to The House of Tremblay. The place was dark. I glanced at my watch—it was nearly two in the morning.

Sunday morning, I was back in the office with more deposition summaries. I was still worried about Cubby, but he was an adult, right?

Monday morning, I went to Cubby’s room and found it empty. Everything was gone except the furniture, which had been included in the room rental. The bed had been stripped and the closet was empty with the hangers haphazardly spread across the rod as though the clothes had been jerked off them in a rushed fashion.

I opened a couple of drawers on his dresser to find them empty, and then I went to the nightstand. Nothing.

I heard Lance Kulick, who had been gone for almost a week, come out of his room next door and stand in the doorway scratching his balls. “Where’ve you been?” I asked with more bite in my voice than was necessary.

“Whoa, dude. What crawled up your ass?” Lance’s hair was all over his head as if he’d had a hard night’s sleep.

“Sorry. I wanted to talk to Cubby, but his things are gone. Were you here yesterday? I guess Alexa moved out.” Her bedroom was across the hall and the door was open, showing the room was completely empty. I wasn’t sorry I missed her goodbye.

“I told Alexa I was going to Miami for a few days with some friends last Friday. Didn’t she tell anyone?”

I glanced at him to see two marks on his neck. “What happened to your neck?” There were two perfectly symmetrical red spots on his neck, which was puzzling.

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