Page 5

Chapter 5

Benji Morrison

I shouldn’t have followed Eli when he left Stonewall.

It was wrong of me.

I crossed a line I wasn’t sure I’d come back from.

I just couldn’t help it.

Meeting him in person, it unchained something dark and twisted, something I tried to keep suppressed. My obsessive traits—present since I was a child—manifested into an overwhelming need to trail Elijah, to watch him from afar. It didn’t help that he reminded me so much of Michael…

At first, I rationalized following him under the guise of protecting him. He’d come to me for help, and so I was going to make sure he received it. Someone was clearly out to get him. This way, I could keep an eye out for any red flags from the people around him and would be able to intervene if this “Nomad” character decided to act out in public.

But as I hung back, blending into the busy crowd as Eli led me to a nearby gay bar, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was me who Elijah needed protecting from.

No. No, I’m not a bad guy.

I just make bad decisions.

The bar itself appeared to be the size of a shoe closet. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go inside without him spotting me. I instead went across the street to a boba tea shop with a clear view of the bar’s exit. I ordered myself a drink (matcha milk tea with chewy boba) and sat at the window, pretending to be reading something on my phone but having a constant eye on the red door that marked the bar.

It didn’t take long for him to walk out.

No… to storm out. Elijah was pissed. His brow was furrowed, and he squeezed his hands together as he stomped toward the subway entrance.

What the hell happened in there?

Who did I have to fuck up?

Who hurt him?

I had a choice. I could go into the bar and find out what happened, or I could risk trailing Elijah home. Rush hour was over, so the trains wouldn’t be nearly as packed. Remaining undetected would be difficult. Then again, we weren’t all that far from Stonewall. It wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that we’d bump into each other on the way home.

But…

Fuck.

Forget it.

I tossed my empty cup in the trash and walked down the street. It was wrong. Creepy.

I just… I wanted to keep an eye on him. I turned on my heels and power walked toward the subway station, changing my mind. NYC subways weren’t exactly known for their safety. What if he stood too close to the tracks and Nomad decided to give him a nudge from behind right as a train was speeding past? I could be there to stop him. I wouldn’t be able to give him twenty-four-hour protection, but at least I could keep an eye on him for now.

I hurried down the subway steps, running around a tourist who was clearly lost and searching for directions on her phone. I tapped my card against the turnstile and walked down toward the platform, making sure to keep my head down.

He’d given me his address during our initial meeting, so I knew he’d be taking the L train home.

The first platform was relatively empty. Five people milled about, either scrolling on their phones or chatting. One guy was shouting random profanities and shaking his fist at some invisible foe.

None of them were Elijah.

I slowly walked toward the next platform. I froze and quickly pivoted behind a column when I spotted that pink cap Eli had been wearing. I leaned forward and stole a couple of glances in his direction.

He sat on the bench, up against the white tiled wall. He rested his forearms on his legs and focused on what appeared to be a social media feed. He double-tapped something, scrolled to the next, double-tapped that, scrolled to the next. No one around him appeared suspicious. There was someone wearing scrubs next to three businessmen chatting with each other.

He was safe, good.

He was also close, better.

His head twitched as he moved to look up, the hiss of air from an approaching train filling the station. I jerked behind the column.

There. My curiosity was quenched. My protective instinct satiated. I could go home now.

…

It wouldn’t hurt for me to keep an eye on him until he got home.

The train screeched to a halt. The doors slid open, passengers flowing out before anyone stepped in. For being close to nine o’clock at night, the trains were surprisingly packed.

I stepped toward the wall, positioning myself behind Eli, still far enough that I had a chance of blending in with the crowd if he looked over his shoulder.

Would he fire me if he figured out I was following him? Would he even give me a chance to explain?

I watched Eli go into the train. I decided to get into the one behind his. It would give me a little more cover. I started toward it when I heard someone shout my name.

I froze, thinking I’d been caught.

“Benji, hey, man!” I turned to see Jace Holloway, another detective at Stonewall and one of my good friends, walking toward me. His boyfriend, Theo, was by his side. The tattooed and broody guy had really brought out Jace’s good side. I noticed he smiled much more often now that they were together. It was nice to see. I could tell Theo was a good influence on him, and that made me happy. I wasn’t a social butterfly by any means, and any of the friends I had made in college were all spread out across the globe. So I was grateful when I bonded with Jace during a joint stakeout early during my time at Stonewall.

I glanced at the train. The doors were about to close.

“Where you headed?” Jace asked.

“Me? Home. It’s been a long day.”

“Ah, I was going to say you’re more than welcome to come get drinks with Theo and me. We’re heading to the Jade Room.”

“That sounds tempting, but so does a hot shower and a bed.”

Jace laughed at that. Theo looked over his shoulder. “Shit, you’re going to miss the train.”

I waved it off. I was a big believer in signs, and this felt like a billboard-sized one. “I’ll catch the next one,” I said.

“Damn, sorry,” Jace replied. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it.” I pulled out my headphones from the pocket of my jeans. “I’ve got a new audiobook I’ve been meaning to listen to. Gives me more time.”

“Alright, well, if you change your mind, you know where we’ll be.”

“Thanks, Jace.”

Jace clapped a hand on my shoulder and smiled. I said bye to the guys and moved closer to the tracks, popping in my headphones and trying to zone out but finding myself thinking back to those bright blue eyes.

* * *

I lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in Lower Manhattan. The “bedroom” was more like a walk-in closet, but I didn’t mind. It was an affordable place in the heart of the city, so I could compromise on the size. On the days I started to feel myself getting stir-crazy, I’d just walk down the stairs, out onto the street, and find something random to do. Go to a pop-up market, pick up last-minute tickets for a Broadway show, read a book in Central Park.

Nah, size didn’t bother me at all.

My loud neighbors, though, they did make things difficult for me.

I was sandwiched between a college student who apparently wanted a career as a DJ and thought everyone in the building needed to be graced with his mixes and a couple who argued as if it were their full-time jobs. It wouldn’t be odd to hear a door slam in the middle of the night or a shouting match break out over breakfast.

So I wasn’t surprised that they were going at it again. Angry shouts drifted into the hallway as I walked past their door, which happened to be open.

“No! Fuck you! I’m done!”

Yes, please, Samantha, be done with this deadbeat. You deserve better.

“Go, then! Take your stupid dog with you!”

What an asshole.

“Fine! Fuck you!”

“Fuck you!”

Fuck this entire situation.

I unlocked my door and was about to step in when Samantha stormed out into the hallway. She had a small pink suitcase with her, their older Jack Russell terrier being dragged behind her on a matching pink leash. Tears streaked down her face, her eyes puffy and red. My heart went out to her. But maybe this was the fresh start she needed.

“I’m so sorry,” she said as she spotted me, slamming her apartment door shut. “I’m sorry you had to hear any of that.”

“It’s okay,” I replied. I didn’t want to make her feel worse than she already did.

She looked down at the dog. Lucky was his name. I had walked him a couple of times in the past. He was friendly, cute, a little dopey.

I was going to miss him.

“I’m… fuck.” Samantha rubbed her face, moved a lock of light brown hair from her eyes. “Benji, I don’t know what to do. I… I don’t want to ask you this, but?—”

Shit. Where was this headed? Was she going to ask to crash in my place? I didn’t mind the small size, but having a practical stranger crammed in there with me would likely drive me crazy.

“I’m leaving to my parents’ place.”

Oh, thank God.

“They live in Australia. And I don’t think I can take Lucky with me. Their landlord doesn’t allow animals, and that flight alone, he’s older… I… I can’t take Lucky to a shelter, either. I can’t see him like that. And I can’t leave him here with Greg. Fuck.”

Ah, so that’s where this was headed.

I looked down at the innocent dog. He sat patiently at his mom’s feet. He was a cute pup, with coarse white-and-brown fur and a short tail that seemed to be permanently wagging.

“Can you… can you take him for me? I don’t want to dump him on you. I understand if you can’t take care of him, but can you at least get him a good home?”

This was not how I expected my evening to go.

I weighed out my choices. Be an asshole and let her figure it out herself? Take Lucky and head to the shelter on my way to pick up some dinner?

Keep Lucky myself and give him the good home she was seeking for him?

I held out my hand. It was an easy decision to make. “I’ll take him.”

“Oh, thank you, Benji. You’re a lifesaver. Seriously. Thank you.” Samantha crouched down and showered Lucky in kisses. He lapped at her cheek, getting up on his hind paws as if he wanted to be carried. Samantha started to cry.

Fuck… this was fucked.

“Just let me know what shelter you take him to. Please make sure it’s a no-kill shelter. He’s older. He probably won’t be adopted for a little bit.” She stood back up, wiping at her cheeks and handing me the leash.

“Don’t worry,” I said, reassuring her. “I’ll keep him. You can visit whenever you come back. And I’ll send you updates. Pictures.”

Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ve been looking for a buddy. And Lucky is a great dog. He always makes me smile whenever I see you walking him.”

She put a hand to her chest, more tears flowing down her face. “Oh, Benji, you seriously don’t know how much that means to me. Thank you.”

She glanced at the closed door to her apartment, her asshole of an ex-boyfriend likely standing behind the door and listening to all of this go down. “I should get going. I’ll order his food and some supplies. Hopefully, it gets here tomorrow.”

“No need. I can make a trip to the pet store.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Samantha said. She surprised me with a tight hug before she grabbed her suitcase and rolled it down the hallway toward the elevator. I could hear her sniffling. Lucky tugged toward her, trying to follow. I opened the door to my apartment and nudged him inside.

“Hi, buddy,” I said, closing the door and taking his leash off. Lucky looked at me with big brown eyes, head cocked as if he were trying to make sense of what just happened. I gave him some head scratches before I went to my tiny kitchen, grabbed an old bowl, filled it with water, and set it down on the ground.

“Welcome home.”

Damn.

I couldn’t help but feel bad for the little guy. He had no idea his entire life had been irrevocably changed. He looked up at me with those innocent brown eyes, his tail slowly wagging. I gave him another head scratch.

“Today’s been a fucking day, huh?”

It had. I needed to de-stress… I needed a drink. I went to my freezer and pulled out the icy-cold bottle of vodka. I removed the orange cap and grabbed a cup. But before I poured anything, I took a shot directly from the bottle. Just to warm things up. Numb the stress, the second-guessing, the anxiety.

I poured a good amount into the glass and mixed it with Sprite. I gave it a twirl with a straw and took a sip.

Perfect.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked, thinking it could be Samantha, but instead, I was greeted with a notification telling me Eli was now online.

I went over to my couch and sat down. I had been wondering if Eli would stream tonight. He’d had quite a packed day.

There he was, wearing the same pink hat he’d worn when he’d come to see me only a few hours before. He got comfortable, lying back on his bed, rubbing his bulge. I shot a glance toward Lucky, who was sniffing around the living room. I unzipped my jeans and pulled them off. I was ready to just chill and jerk off while I watched Eli do the same.

Before I could even get hard, a message from Nomad appeared in the chat. Eli instantly noticed, too. His entire demeanor shifted, his body going taut.

NOMAD: Fuck, I can’t wait until I’m in that bedroom with you, watching you sleep, feeling your body heat against me. Damn.

My blood boiled.

“Alright, everyone, I think I’m going to call it early tonight.”

No, no. I didn’t want the night to end, nor did I want Eli to feel like he was being watched by someone who wanted to hurt him.

I clicked on the “private show” button. My phone buzzed again; this time, it was my bank telling me I’d just spent one hundred dollars. I swiped out of the notification and returned my attention to the computer.

“Hey, Night, how are you?” Eli asked once the stream went private, his smile wide and bright as he casually pulled off his underwear.

Just us. Just Eli and me.

NIGHTOWL: I’m doing great. Especially now that you’re on.