I’d fucked up so bad.
I’d taken the sweetest, sexiest, most loving person on the planet and abused his trust in me to prove I was a man. The man I swore I’d never become. In prison I’d read up on people from backgrounds like mine: violence, drugs, and abandonment…and learned we struggle because that’s all we know. We grow up in this circle of hopelessness and hate it and recognize we’re wrong, but we can’t break away without help.
The clock read eight, and I knew Frankie started dancing around nine thirty. He thought I didn’t want to see him dance because I got jealous of other men touching him. I didn’t like it, but that wasn’t totally it. I loved knowing that no matter what he did, it meant nothing to him. That he was mine. Maybe he needed to know that.
With a head full of plans, I jumped off the sofa to get changed and head out to the city.
“You’re not gonnamake trouble, right?” The husky bouncer gave me a stare-down, but I refused to be intimidated and glared right back at him.
“I ain’t here to do anything but see Frankie dance. I can pay my cover, so you don’t gotta worry.”
“Oh, I’m not worried.” His white teeth flashed. “I’ve got no worries in the world.” He handed me back my license. “Go on in.”
I couldn’t blame the guy, and it made me feel better that Frankie had such a protective circle around him. The sound of Britney’s “Toxic” filled the space, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then I saw him. At home, sometimes Frankie would walk around naked with only the crown on his head, and I’d grab him and tease him about “sucking his scepter.” But here he looked mysterious and powerful. The lights glowed around him like an aura, and the purple silky robe flared out behind him. I stood in the shadows, watching Frankie move through the crowd. Owning it. Owningthem. Sashaying past the gropers wanting to cop a feel.
“He’s got them under his thumb.”
I spun around to face a tall man with piercing eyes. The owner, James. He didn’t say much, but from Frankie I learned he watched over the guys, and that was all I cared about.
“He has a way like that.”
“Oh?” He quirked a brow. “Are you? Under his thumb, I mean.”
I held back, watching Frankie dance over to a group of men celebrating something. One man patted his lap, and Frankie bent to whisper in his ear. At the man’s red face, I knew Frankie suggested going to the back for a more private dance. It didn’t bother me. A private dance meant big bucks for Frankie.
“Who wouldn’t be? Look at him.” The guy shook his head with regret, but Frankie still gave him that lap dance while his friends toasted them with drinks.
“That’s all show. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah. I know. He and I…we’re complicated. But I know it don’t mean nothing to him. It’s all make-believe.”
A small chuckle escaped James’s lips. “If it weren’t, I’d be out of business. Most of these men coming here do so out of boredom. They need a fantasy before they go home to their mundane lives with lovers they’ve been with too many years and who no longer excite them.” He sipped his drink, watching the stage, where Frankie’s friend Cort lassoed a patron and began to dance for him in assless chaps. The claps and shouts made it difficult to hear, and I leaned in closer to talk to James.
“I’ve never been bored with Frankie. I been in love with him from the first time I saw him.”
“No, you haven’t.” James set his glass on the bar top and leaned against it. “You’ve been in lust with him. Lust is easy. It doesn’t require anything but a hard dick.”
Those crude words didn’t seem like they belonged to the elegantly dressed man standing in front of me, and as I stared at him in surprise, he smiled.
“Did I shock you? I shouldn’t have. You know what I’m saying is the truth. You have to know someone to love them. Everything else is about sex.” He waved a hand to the crowd. “And that’s what I’m selling them. Sex. Fantasy. But ask yourself. Do you really know Frankie? You’ve been away close to a year. He’s not the same man you left behind.”
A combination of anger and shame coursed through me, and I wanted to argue with James and tell him he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.
“Frankie ’n me have known each other for four years. We got a history.”
“And how’d that history treat him? Were you kind to him? Did you value him and your relationship?” James smoothed down his tie and picked up his drink again. “Trust is earned. Not pushed. Think about it,” he said and walked away.
First the guy at the door, now James. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here.
“I know what you’re thinking.” The bartender leaned against the bar top to wipe it dry. “What the fuck does this guy know about my life, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Whistles and claps drew my attention to the stage, where Frankie now performed, having finished his lap dance. He stood in nothing but his crown, that cape, and a jock while he slithered and wound himself around a tall, masked man. Money rained down on them, and they both began to dance faster, impressing me with their choreographed steps. I hadn’t seen Frankie dance in a while, and he’d learned to use his body to show off his toned, sleek muscles.
“He knows, trust me. James makes it a point to learn what he can about the guys who work for him.”
“He ain’t gonna give me a chance. I know the type. He’s like Frankie’s friend Austin. Everyone’s waiting for me to fuck up again.”
The bartender leaned his powerful forearms on the bar top. “First of all, what’re you drinking?”
