“Yeah, it’s not his problem, though. It’s mine. Call Nicky. Make sure the phone’s so clean it squeaks. Full encryption, Graphene OS. Everything. Fort Knox that fucker.”
“What the fuck’s going on, dude? And more importantly, is it going to come knocking on our front door?”
“Not sure, but if anybody asks, I went to San Diego to visit family. You don’t know their names. We’re just roommates and co-workers. We stay out of each other’s business. You know the party line.”
“Yeah, man. This ain’t my first rodeo. What the fuck did you do? What is it about this kid that’s got you so twisted up? It is him, right? The one you ran into in the police station? The one you asked Nicky to stalk for you.”
Javier didn’t even bother to argue the stalking allegation. Hadn’t Bowie accused him of the same thing? Maybe he had been stalking him. He was fine with it. He was fine with anything that kept him in Bowie’s world. “Yeah, that’s him. I don’t know what it is about him. He just… I don’t know, man. He just does something to my head.”
There was a long silence before Lawson said, “I hope he’s worth it.”
He is.“Me too. Get him that phone. Program this number into it.”
“Anything else?” Lawson asked, his voice cracking on the last word.
“Yeah, if he asks to stay at my place, he can have my room.”
“Christ, you’ve lost your fucking mind.”
Javier cackled at Lawson’s irritation, hanging up without a goodbye. Yeah, he’d definitely lost it. Bowie had burrowed his way under Javier’s skin and he lived there now. He shook his head. He wasn’t the type to question a feeling, and he got the feeling that Bowie was a long-term investment.
He pushed open the top on Sylvia’s borrowed laptop, scouring the internet for information regarding the shooting. He only found a generic blurb about gunfire outside a club. The cops were playing this one close to the vest, giving nothing away.
That most likely meant the feds were involved. He’d suspected as much. Had they already questioned Bowie? Was he okay? Being back in a police station had probably triggered bad memories, but Javier only hoped it was worth the price to not spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder.
“Javier,” his cousin, Daniela, cried, her tone taking on a whine.
“Oh, alright,” he muttered, closing the laptop before he hopped up and ran to the edge of the pool, cannonballing into the center of Miguel’s float, tipping the boy into the water.
* * *
It took two days before the text came through. Not really a text but an invite to a WhatsApp-style app Nicky always loaded on any phone his employer, Elite Protection Services, used in the course of their jobs.
Javier smiled, his dick twitching just knowing Bowie wanted to talk to him. For all Javier knew, it was to tell him Bowie never wanted to speak to him again, but it didn’t matter. Any contact with Bowie just did something to Javier. He’d gone too long without hearing his voice, seeing that smile. At least now they could talk. If Bowie told Javier to fuck off, he’d just have to find a way to get back into his good graces.
Lawson had clearly told Bowie how to get around the police’s possible attempts at tracking his phone. The app worked on wi-fi not cell phone towers. All data was encrypted. If the cops wanted to spy on Javier’s and Bowie’s conversations, they were going to have to really work for it.
At this point, it was likely all overkill. They wouldn’t have anything on Bowie or even Javier, nothing to use for a warrant application. Just being in the vicinity of a crime, even one you deeply wanted to occur, wasn’t grounds for a warrant. Still, Javier felt better knowing their communications were encrypted.
Once he was in the app, the first message came through fast.
Where are you?
Javier smiled. He could hear Bowie’s terse tone, even in text. He couldn’t help but mess with him.What’s the codeword?
There was a long pause.Angel?
Javier smirked at his phone. Bowie was so fucking adorable. If they had a codeword, it would be angel.I had to get out of town for a while. Family stuff. How are you?
Bowie: Freaking out. How do you think I am?
Javier: How was school?
Bowie: I don’t know. I didn’t go.
Javier frowned at his phone before clicking the button to call Bowie. “What do you mean you didn’t go to school? Why not?” he asked as soon as he heard Bowie answer.
There was a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I just can’t concentrate. I’m already in big trouble for just dipping in the middle of rehearsal the other day. I am fucking up left and right, and people are totally done with my shit. I’m almost positive I’m going to get fired and I don’t even give a fuck. I should. I should give a fuck because I have bills to pay but I just don’t care anymore.”
