Page 92 of Enemy
But Yeti pipes up in an instant. “Hell no! I want the soap opera edition.”
Harvey rubs his balding head. “Are you really gay?”
“Wow, if that’s the most important piece of information for you, then maybe it’s not that bad,” I say, but my words are met by scowls. Clearly, it’s too soon for jokes, so I clear my throat, and before any of them can cut in, I tell them the whole damn story, from the exchange with Clyde after the explosion, all the way to yesterday’s disaster. Or was I out for two days? I’m really not sure.
There is a lot I choose not to disclose, since it feels both irrelevant and private, but by the end of the story most of the faces within sight have lost their outright hostility, which is… something, I suppose.
“So there you have it. I was meeting Clyde behind your backs, but never betrayed the club.”
Sad Billy hums. “Guess it is what it is.”
Martin, a blond, tanned guy about my age, leans back in his chair. “Like what? That we fuck guys now?”
Yeti groans. “No one’s telling you to, but you can suck dick if you want.”
Martin scowls at him and slams his palm on the table. “Fuck you, Yeti! You’ve always had a problem with me. Is it ‘cause I told you to shave the unibrow?”
Rooster wants in on this clusterfuck, because he raises his voice too. “What’s a unibrow have to do with being gay?”
Sad Billy shrugs. “To be attractive?”
Yeti throws a coaster at him, which wouldn’t be a big deal if it wasn’t made of stone. “And fuck you too!”
Only Creep’s been quiet, but it’s usual for him to lurk in a corner. He’s tapping his fingers against the table a bit too fast. I hope he isn’t planning to come after me in the night or something.
Prophet gets up. “Shut it! All of you! I guess we’re in agreement then that Road being gay is not an issue. And frankly, yeah, it shouldn’t be a dealbreaker. We’re brothers. Who cares who he fucks? I had a guy suck me off a few times over the years. It’s not that big of a deal.”
My eyes shoot straight to him, and my elbow slips over the armrest. “You?”
Didn’t stop the bastard from making crude cocksucker jokes, which, to be fair, could be funny in the right context, but not on the lips of a man who always played it straight in public. “The same guy?”
Harvey snorts. “I think Road’s jealous.”
Prophet frowns, but I do spot a bit of a flush on his face. “None of your business who it was, but I can assure you it wasn’t Grizzly or Puck.” A jab at me for fucking a Butcher. Fair.
The silence extends, which means that maybe everyone’s out of clever ideas, and we can settle into this new reality in which I’ll be making Clyde my old man. Maybe we can even move on to the pressing matters of how to handle the Butchers after last night.
But no. Creep decides to speak up, so I brace myself.
“I am a homosexual too,” he says, dark eyes wide, lips in a tight line, and while for a moment I believe he’s mocking me, the tension in his body reveals that yes, he isthat awkwardabout this.
Someone coughs, maybe trying to mask his laughter, but Creep stares straight at me through tresses that fall into his eyes, as if he’s counting on support.
“Um… okay? That’s good? Not to be the only one,” I try.
Yeti sniggers. “Do you have a boyfriend? Do you keep him in the caves?”
Creep’s frown deepens. “No.”
Martin gets up and looks around the table. “I’d like to come out too. As straight. Can’t help it, I just really like pussy.”
Most of the men jeer, some laugh, Prophet rolls his eyes, though I do spot him stealing a wary glance at Creep.
“So now that that’s out of the way—” our prez tries, only for Rooster to butt in.
“What if someone’s undecided?”
His father spreads his arms, and his eyebrows shoot up. “Where the fuck did that come from?”
