Page 56 of Body Count

Sunny watched me over his glass again.

Autumn had come early.The night had been cold.My dad had given me his satin Chiefs jacket, and it had smelled like him.Like his cigarettes.He had stopped to talk to a police officer.Talked too much, really, but on the drive over, he’d already gotten three beers deep.Kept talking and talking.Telling the police officer how important his job was.Thanking him for his service.Telling me, too.He’d been a young guy, fit, a hard body under a tight uniform.I’d been too young to understand why I was interested except that my dad thought police were so awesome.

Later, I realized how embarrassing the whole thing was—the fanboying, my dad throwing a bone for every cop who crossed his path.He’d wanted to become a police officer, he’d told me later, me with my hot dog, him with another beer.It just hadn’t worked out.I said I wanted to be one.You should have seen his face light up.

I went to take another drink and was surprised to find my glass empty.I cleared my throat and said, “Did you know?”

“No.I told you: I didn’t know that boy.Why would I know what he was doing?”

“The woman who owns that place, the one you hire dancers from, she didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That Tip showed up and caused an altercation.”

Sunny had straight, white teeth in a perfect smile.“No, Gray.I don’t have contact with her outside of our business arrangements.And just to be clear, I don’t hire dancers.I hire whores.”

My headache was back.Maybe it was the drink.My injured eye was starting to throb.I wanted to say,Say that again.I smiled.

“What’s it like,” Sunny asked, “being a gay cop in a place like this?”

“That question is trite.Predictable.Boring.”

He laughed.“All right.Do you like to fuck or get fucked?”

“Do I have to choose?”

He laughed again.Those intensely dark eyes were practically sparkling.

“What happened when Tip confronted you?”I asked.

“Excuse me?”

“At your party.See, that’s why he was here.I know what he told his friends, but that was the whole reason he came.He wanted to see you.He wanted to talk to you.To be frank, I think he wanted to beat the shit out of you for tuning up on his mom.So, what happened?”

The laughter had gone out of Sunny’s face.He was still watching me, trying to keep his expression neutral, but fresh wariness in his eyes suggested I’d gotten closer than he liked.But closer to what?

Once again, I played the waiting game.

This time, Sunny broke first.“I wasn’t lying.Ididn’tknow him.I didn’t even know his name until after.When the detectives showed me a picture and asked me if I knew what happened.”

I didn’t say anything.My eye was still throbbing, and the white hiss of silence had gotten louder.

“I didn’t hurt that boy.He came on to me.I don’t usually like them that young.I like them older.More experienced.More confident.The mindfuck, when they break, is so much more intense.”

My skin felt tight.My face felt hot.My hand ached, and I realized I was gripping the empty glass so hard my knuckles had turned white.I had the distant thought that the glass felt exceptionally thin.Fragile.Like it was about to shatter.

“Nothing happened,” Sunny finally said.“I didn’t touch him.”

“Did you fuck him?”

“No.”

“Did you ‘play’ with him?”

“I just told you I wasn’t interested.”

“What happened?”

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