Andrew’s voice trembled as did his hand as he slid the gun back into position. “Because it’s fucking shit.”
Marlon nodded. “Yeah. I was just being a bitch.” There was a large part of him that raged against lowering himself in front of Andrew, but to do anything else was pointless and would end in more conflict.
They stared at each other, Marlon keeping his hands raised, Andrew lifting his from the gun. Finally he reached for the door handle. “If I hear you spreading shit, I swear to—”
“You won’t.”
Andrew pushed open the door. “Hope you enjoyed being a cop, faggot. That’s all about to end.” He slid out, slammed the door, and was gone.
Marlon watched him in the rearview as he disappeared into the station, ready to duck down and pull his gun should Andrew turn around.
God, he’d been an idiot. The chief might actually take his badge when Marlon told him about confronting Andrew, about provoking him with the gay shit. He sat there for another fifteen minutes, trying to get his nerves to return to normal and to lessen the chance he’d run into Andrew on the way in. He for sure didn’t want Andrew to see him going to the chief’s office.
An image flashed through his mind of Andrew walking in, his gun fully drawn, and opening fire on him talking to the chief.
Actually there was no need to talk to the chief that very moment. What was the point? What good would come of it? Neither of them had fully pulled their guns or made actual threats. It had been nothing more than name-calling and one man’s word against the other.
Finally he got out of the car, gathered his stuff off the hood, and went in. He’d apparently waited long enough for Andrew to leave, or maybe he was in the chief’s office, though Marlon doubted it. He couldn’t picture Andrew coming close to alluding to someone calling him gay.
As he was leaving the station, Marlon realized he would have to talk to the chief. There would have to be a partner change after this. No way could he or Andrew work together any longer.
Guilt tugged at him, both for putting his chief in a situation that would ripple through the station and, more so, could cause Andrew’s behavior to escalate.
Marlon wasn’t surprised to get Vahin’s answering text stating he was at Mary’s. As he walked into the restaurant, Marlon prayed he hadn’t done something to make Vahin’s situation worse. Vahin had gone to an informal interview at a construction company the day before. While the idea of Vahin hot and sweaty wearing a tool belt was appealing, Marlon ached over hearing the defeat in Vahin’s voice as he said they’d told him that he’d be able to start early the next week. It had almost been enough for Marlon to offer to cover a couple months of Vahin’s rent just so they could see how it all played out, not that it would take that long. The only thing that stopped him was knowing Vahin would feel even more like a failure at such a suggestion.
Marlon spotted Vahin sitting at the bar talking to the other bartender and the younger drag queen—Ariel, that was her name. Like he’d ever be able to forget. He wouldn’t be able to walk by a mermaid display without blushing for the rest of his life.
Marlon pressed up against Vahin and kissed his cheek before Vahin noticed he’d arrived.
Vahin jumped, then kissed Marlon full on the mouth before pulling back and smiling. “Look at you, with the public display of affection.”
Marlon shrugged, though he was shocked. He hadn’t even thought twice about it. “No one left to hide from.”
“You okay with that, or does it freak you out?”
“Actually….” How had he not thought of this, even with all that was going on? “You know, it feels pretty amazing.”
“Good.” Vahin smiled again, but Marlon realized it wasn’t his normal carefree grin. Not that anything about Vahin had been carefree over the past several days, but still.
“What’s wrong?”
Vahin turned back toward his friends. “You mind?”
Ariel shook her head.
He addressed Marlon again, keeping his voice relatively low. “Ariel stepped out front a bit ago and got harassed by a couple of guys walking by.”
Marlon looked over Vahin’s shoulder and met Ariel’s light green eyes; small trails of mascara were smeared on her cheeks. She met his gaze, then glanced away. He focused back on Vahin. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, just some verbal shit. Might have gotten physical, but a couple on the patio yelled at the guys, and they took off.”
“Fuck.” Marlon started to address Ariel, then thought better of it. “I can take her statement, if she wants.”
Vahin shook his head. “Nah. Nothing actually happened, and I think that would freak Ariel out more than do anything useful.”
“You sure she’s okay?”
“As good as she can be. I’m getting so tired of this shit. This neighborhood keeps getting ritzier and ritzier, and crap like this still happens.”
