The driver looked down at the money and smiled. “Thank you, sir,” He didn’t
offer to give him change.
After that, he went to a bar and had another drink. He laughed and flirted with a
group of rugged guys in one bar, kissing each one while they took turns playing with his
ass. They actually pulled him into a dark corner of the bar, unfastened his jeans, and took
turns putting their hands down his pants. Though everything was distorted, he knew they
were all dark, that they were all wearing black leather, and that they all had thick facial
hair. He liked the way their large strong hands went down his pants; their deep throaty
voices made his penis grow. He wiggled his ass and arched his back until they tried to pull his pants all the way down. He stopped them just in time and left them standing in
the back of the bar.
Then he went to another bar a few blocks away. This one was dark, with red walls
and fewer people, and there were male strippers dancing on top of the bars. He sat down
at the bar and ordered a drink, watching a young blond guy in a tight gold g-string shake
his ass back and forth. When the blond guy stepped in front of where Cody was sitting
and shook his penis in Cody’s face, Cody pulled another one-hundred-dollar bill from his
pocket and shoved it into the young guy’s g-string. Then he laughed so hard he fell back
into the lap of a strange guy sitting next to him at the bar. The guy was in his mid-thirties
and he had thick brown hair. He wore a brown leather jacket, ripped jeans, and a white T
shirt. His face was long and lean, with a strong chin. He reminded Cody of the rough
looking guy who did his landscaping each week.
The guy seemed to know that Cody was wasted. He wrapped his arms around him
and whispered into his ear, “I’ll bet you’re a dirty little fucker. I’ll bet you could take off
your clothes better than that guy who is already up there.”
Cody threw his head back and licked the guy’s jaw. He had heavy stubble and his
breath smelled like beer and tobacco. “I’ll bet I could, too,” Cody said, grinding his ass
into the guy’s lap. No one had ever referred to him as a dirty little fucker before. For the
first time in a long time, he felt free enough to do whatever he wanted to do.
The guy was there with two of his buddies. He looked at them and nodded, then
whispered to Cody, “Why don’t you come back to my place and put on a private show for
me and my buds here?” He nodded toward his friends. Cody looked at them and smiled. One was big and husky, with a goatee and short
dark hair. The other was completely bald, with two gold earrings and a tattoo on his
upper arm. Cody reached down and grabbed the guy’s crotch. He squeezed his balls a
few times and smiled. “You guys lead the way.”
The next thing Cody remembered was waking up in a strange bed. He was stark
naked and his body was sprawled out across the middle of the bed. His head was resting
on a hairy abdomen and there was dark pubic hair next to his lips. His legs were mingled
with a strange man’s hairy legs and there was a large hand groping his ass. He lifted his
head and looked around. He was in bed with three naked men, in a room with cracked
wallpaper and chipped paint. His head was spinning and he had trouble focusing. When
he tried to move, the hand on his ass forced him down again.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” he said. “I’m getting up.”
The guy laughed. It was the guy who had been sitting next to him at the bar the
night before. The guy was naked and Cody’s stomach was resting on his penis. “You’re
not as sweet now as you were last night when my buddies were taking turns on you. I
never saw anyone who liked to get fucked as much as you.” Then he patted Cody’s ass a
few times and forced his finger inside Cody’s anus.
Cody jumped up off the bed and looked for his clothes so he could get dressed.
How could he have been so reckless? If these guys recognized him, his career would be
over. Two of the guys were still sleeping, snoring so loudly their chests were heaving. He
just wanted to find his clothes and get out of there as fast as he could. His shirt was on the
floor and there were three used condoms on top of it. He took a deep breath; at least they’d had safe sex. His pants were halfway under the bed and there were two pairs of
white briefs on top of them.
The guy who was awake rubbed his eyes and said, “Why don’t you come back to
bed and relax? When my buddies wake up, we can have more fun. You seemed to like
what we did to you last night. We can repeat it this morning.”
Cody bit the inside of his mouth and took a quick breath. He was almost dressed,
but he couldn’t find one shoe. “Thanks, man,” he said, putting on the baseball cap and
looking away, “I’ve gotta get moving.” The guy seemed harmless enough, but he had a
huge chest and bulging biceps and Cody didn’t want to piss him off. All he wanted to do
was get out of there and find a good hotel where he could soak in a hot tub and wash their
strong smells from his body.
His shoe was beneath his jacket near the end of the bed. When he put the shoe on,
he reached into his jacket and found a bottle of dudes. He popped the cap and took a
couple. With each move he made, his head pounded and things looked hazier.
When he was dressed, he didn’t even bother to say goodbye to the guy in the bed.
He raced out of the room and down a narrow hallway that had uneven wooden floors and
yellowed wallpaper. He tripped several times and fell into the wall. He stumbled down
three flights of stairs, holding the rickety banister to keep his balance. When he reached
the street, he saw a taxi at the other end of the block. He ran into the street without
looking and lifted his arm high, hoping the taxi driver would see him. While he waved,
he heard a loud screech—and a blunt object struck him from behind.
He fell forward and landed on the pavement. The last sound he heard was a
woman shouting. He wasn’t sure what she said, but it sounded like, “Call 911.”
Chapter Seventeen
When Joey Delaney was first admitted to The Harvey Milk Clinic, Harriet and
Anderson paid his bills from the money he’d earned from the television series. His
medical bills were astounding. Each time Harriet paid one, her hands shook when she
dropped it into the mailbox. They reached the six-figure mark in a matter of months. And
the timing couldn’t have been any worse. After Joey’s show had been canceled, he’d
gone downhill fast. Because he wasn’t working, he had no insurance, and no other
insurance company would pick him up with a pre-existing condition. He had too much
money to qualify for government assistance and not enough to pay on his own. And even
when his own money was depleted, the government wouldn’t give enough assistance to
pay for the expensive care he was receiving at The Harvey Milk Clinic. He’d have to
transfer to a state facility.
There were other problems. Joey’s accountant had made grave errors, and Joey
wound up owing the government a great deal of money in back taxes. In order to pay
those taxes, they’d have to sell the house in the Hollywood Hills. Anderson had never
been involved with Joey’s financial matters, or any financial matters, and all this left him
breathless. Harriet explained everything to him in detail while he stared into the fireplace
wondering what else could go wrong with his life.
Harriet said, “After the house is sold and the back taxes are paid, there will be
enough money left to keep Joey at the clinic for about six months. And that doesn’t
include our household expenses.” She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “After that, we’ll
have to find a less expensive place to put him.” Anderson sat quietly and thought. He hadn’t worked as a model in a long time and
he didn’t have enough money in his own bank account to afford Joey’s care. And he was
still sending his mother money each month. “We’ll both have to get jobs,” he said. “I’ll
start looking for modeling jobs as soon as possible. I’m sure you can find something. We
have to keep Joey where he is. I don’t want him anywhere else.”
Harriet shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t see how we’re going to do it,
Anderson,” she said. “The kind of modeling you do will never pay the bills at the clinic,
and I know I can get a decent job, but nothing that will cover Joey’s expenses and
medical bills. I’ve already listed my place in New York for sale. But I have to find a
place to live out here now. I’m thinking about moving closer to San Francisco to be near
Joey. I admire your tenacity for wanting to keep Joey where he is. But we have to face
facts. Eventually, Joey will have to be moved to a cheaper facility.”
Anderson looked up at a photo of Joey over the fireplace. It had been taken the
night he’d done his singing act in a New York nightclub with Cody. Knowing Joey would
never make love to him again left him with an empty feeling he knew would never be
filled. But that didn’t change the fact that he was still in love with Joey, or the fact that
his feelings for Joey went far beyond sex. So he clenched his fists and looked Harriet in
the eye. “I’ll figure out a way, Harriet. I swear to God I will. Joey will remain where he is
for the rest of his life.”
The very next day, Anderson started looking for work. He called his small-time
Hollywood agent (he wasn’t big enough to be represented by Lance or Bart Hasslet) and
told him he was actively searching for as much work as he could get, and there was
nothing he wouldn’t do. Then he listed the house with a Realtor and started thinking of ways to economize his life. The fact that Harriet was planning to move to San Francisco
so she could be closer to Joey and visit him often eased Anderson’s fears. Unfortunately,
Anderson had to stay in Hollywood, where there were more job opportunities. He
wouldn’t be able to see Joey as often. But paying Joey’s expenses was his only priority.
Then one cool morning while Anderson was packing to leave his home for good,
just when he was about to give up all hope, his agent called. He told Anderson there were
two interesting job offers and he wanted to meet with him in his office that afternoon.
Anderson hung up ran into his bedroom to get dressed. He had been searching for work
for months and he hadn’t found anything even halfway decent. The only thing for which
he was qualified was looking good. Harriet had found a position at a public relations firm
and she’d moved to San Francisco a week earlier to start a new life. But her job paid
average wages and would never take care of Joey’s expenses.
Later that afternoon, his agent told him about the job offers. The first offer made
Anderson sit up and smile. A small TV station in Sacramento, which was closer to Joey,
was looking for a new weatherman and they liked they way Anderson looked. They also
liked the fact that he’d already had minor national exposure as a male model and some
people would recognize him. The second offer made him sit back in his chair and sigh. It
was from a film producer who had seen Anderson’s underwear ads. The film producer
also liked the fact that Anderson had some national exposure and that some people would
recognize him.
Anderson listened to his agent without saying a word. The weatherman position at
the small TV station was a dream job for someone like Anderson. The hours were regular,
it was good clean work, and he’d never have to worry about taking his clothes off in front of a camera again. The only problem with the job was the salary. If it hadn’t been for
Joey’s expenses, the salary would have been fine with Anderson. But he didn’t see how
he’d be able to afford Joey’s bills along with his own meager living expenses.
The second offer was unexpected. The agent told Anderson about it without
mincing his words. A film producer in Europe wanted Anderson to sign with his studio
for a huge amount of money to star in a series of erotic, all-male films. The producer was
so excited about getting someone with Anderson’s experience and exposure he was
willing to offer him a record amount of money and a contract that would include all of his
living expenses. Anderson’s agent referred to these films as “art films,” but Anderson
knew better. The producer was the owner of Palomino Studios, the largest and most
successful all-male porn studio in the world.
If Joey hadn’t been sick, Anderson would have turned down the second offer
immediately and jumped at the first offer. But Anderson told his agent he wanted to think
