Page 5 of Spread Your Wings
He walked back to the front desk where Mustafa watched him with guarded eyes. Alone at the desk, he didn’t even attempt a fake smile for Sammy.
“Hey,” Sammy said, passing a fifty-Mark across the counter. “How can I get a doctor’s appointment for some blood work, no questions asked?”
“Blood work?” Mustafa asked, taking the Mark. “CNN has a physician on staff.”
“No questions asked,” Sammy repeated.
“What kind of test?”
“The big one.”
Mustafa’s eyes widened. “Hepatitis?”
“The other H. They hold hands. You know?”
Mustafa nodded. He laid the fifty-Mark on the counter and slid it back toward Sammy. “I know a place. It will cost you more than fifty.”
“How much more?” Sammy was still milking his advance for another three days until he got paid.
“Another one hundred.”
Sammy would be broke for three days, but he could manage if he ate meals at the hotel. “Okay.”
Sammy spent the next two hours in the hotel lobby. He read Stephen King’s third installment inThe Dark Towerseries,The Wastelands. The fantasy violence and dark humor did little to calm his fear of death. He glanced up between chapters to find Mustafa staring at him. Mustafa’s thick brows gathered over his eyes like storm clouds. Sammy didn’t have a problem with Mustafa’s religion, but Mustafa sure as shit had a problem withhim being gay, or at least for announcing his risk of HIV. That stung worse than Gavin’s infidelity.
To think, earlier that morning Sammy had sworn his loyalty to Gavin. How long had Gavin been fucking around on him? By February tenth, Gavin had already had plans to move in with someone else. Sammy had fucked him twice a day for those last three days! Gavin’s guilt tactics had worked on Sammy, telling him he’d need a lot of sex to tide him over until June.
What an asshole!
Sammy growled and snapped the hardcover novel shut around a CNN business card he used as a bookmark.
“Are you ready?”
Mustafa’s voice in his ear startled him out of his anger. He nearly fell out of his chair. Mustafa offered him a hand, and he was up. He followed Mustafa through the lobby and down a service corridor. Once outside, they walked to a German sedan parked in the lot behind the building.
Mustafa angled toward Sammy as he buckled his seatbelt. “I will take you to a clinic near the baths. The doctor does the blood test. Takes more than he needs, but he’s thorough.” Mustafa rubbed the inside of his left elbow absently, as though he knew from experience.
“Thank you,” Sammy said.
Mustafa flipped the ignition and gripped the pommel of the manual shifter. “It’s nothing.”
Sammy didn’t expect Mustafa to hold his hand. He didn’t know what he expected, but this was not it. Once they reached their destination, Mustafa pointed him toward a green storefront to the left of the Turkish bath. At least, Sammy assumed it was the Turkish bath. The open door exuded a steaming mist. He walked to the other door Mustafa indicatedbeneath the green canopy and checked the door handle, unlocked. He tiptoed inside, feeling tiny and alone in a room of hard-eyed strangers.
Fifteen minutes and a band-aid later, he reemerged. The blue sedan sat where he’d left it, but empty. He could wait inside the unlocked car until Mustafa returned. He hit his head on the ceiling when the shadow under the dashboard moved.
“Jesus fuck! What the hell are you doing?”
“No one can see me here,” Mustafa whispered. “This car belongs to Uncle Vasily. They expect to see him. If they see me without him, they will use me to send a message.”
Sometimes, Mustafa’s choice of words made Sammy wonder if he’d learned English by watching movies. The words, “send a message” could have been as harmless as handing Mustafa a piece of paper. Sammy had a feeling it was more like bruises and broken bones. “Give me the keys,” Sammy said. “I’ll drive back to the hotel.”
Mustafa handed him the keys. “Drive to the fountain. I will show you around.”
“I don’t know how to get there.”
“I will tell you. Just get us out of here.”
“Not until you tell me why you’re scrunched under the dash like a dog afraid of thunder.”
