“So, I’ll see you soon?”
Zac blinked. “Erm, yeah. See you soon—Thursday.”
“See you Thursday, Zac. Take care.”
The line went dead. Zac lowered his phone, but something about the way Liam had said his name had him staring at the blank screen for a long time.
Zac stood at the end of Clarence Road and scanned the scrawny figures in the distance for the thousandth time, searching for Jamie’s tatty leather jacket and inky hair. He’d waited all weekend for him to come home so he could tell him that he was going away, but by Wednesday—today—he’d been forced to admit defeat and come out looking, checking every side street and alley, the squats and underpasses. Clarence Road was his last stop, but so far he’d come up blank. There were hookers and junkies on every corner, but none were Jamie.
Damn it. Zac let out a frustrated sigh. His meeting with Liam was tomorrow, but there was no way he could go to London without seeing Jamie first. He was used to Jamie disappearing on him, but had long ago realised he was unable to do the same. What if Jamie came home and Zac wasn’t there? What if he took Zac’s absence to mean there was nothing left for him but the grimy world of hooking and smack he’d come home to escape? Not a chance. Zac owed Jamie more than that—a hell of a lot more.
Finally, he spied Jamie getting out of a car by the long-defunct phone box. In years gone by Zac might’ve whistled to get his attention, but not now. Not here. He’d spent enough time in Norwich’s cruising district to notice the pimps and dealers in each window, tracking their toms, ready to pounce if they stepped out of line. Zac pondered which of the peeping eyes belonged to Jamie’s pimp—the new guy who gave away money for free—then decided he didn’t want to know. The less he knew about Jamie’s day-to-day life, the better.
Zac walked nonchalantly up the road towards Jamie, trying to appear aimless and blend in. Luckily, with the worn jeans and T-shirts he preferred when he wasn’t marking rich johns, he had the smackhead-chic vibe down, and no one glanced his way as he reached the corner where Jamie was clearly trying to score junk from some skank.
Twitchy, Zac forced himself to slow his pace, covering his move under the pretence of taking a phone call, eyes anywhere but at the foil packages and cash changing hands until he was sure the transaction was complete. Jamie glanced up. Zac met his gaze with a subtle nod, leaving the approach up to him.
Jamie scanned the road before pushing himself off the wall he’d been leaning against and falling into step beside Zac. “You shouldn’t be here, unless you’ve come to procure my services.”
Zac snorted softly. “Maybe I have. How much are you charging these days? We could go for lunch? Pretend we’d snuck off for a quickie in the park?”
“I wish.” Jamie took another furtive glance around. “Don’t spend your money on shit I’d give you for free any day of the week.”
Zac thought back to the fuck-hot sixty-niner they’d indulged in last time Jamie had been home. It had started as a bet, and then descended into a flat-out race to see who could make the other come the fastest. Zac had won, naturally. He knew all Jamie’s weak spots and had been sober enough to remember them. “Suit yourself. I came to tell you I’m going away tomorrow. Got an overnight with a john.”
“An overnight?”
“Yup. At his place. I won’t be back till Friday.”
“Which john?”
Zac said nothing, knowing Jamie would work it out. Five, four, three, two—
“The hot dude from the other night?”
“It was nearly a month ago, Jay, but yeah, it’s him. The surfer dude.”
“Surfer, eh?” Jamie whistled. “So it was worth all that mooning over your phone?”
“I haven’t been mooning, and even if I had, how the fuck would you know? You haven’t been home in ages.”
Jamie studied the pavement, guilt flashing in his bloodshot gaze. “I’ve been busy.”
“I know.”
“Where’s his place? In King’s Lynn?”
“No, London.”
“London?” Jamie stopped walking. “Whereabouts?”
“Farringdon.”
“Zac—”
“I know.” Zac cut Jamie off before he could take the conversation down a path Zac had worn thin all by himself. “I’ll be careful, I promise. It’s not like I don’t know where to avoid.”
Jamie rubbed his grubby face with the heel of his hand. “It shouldn’t matter. You wouldn’t have to go if you didn’t have me holding you back. I’d stop if I could, you know that, don’t you?”
