Beneath the Stain - Part 2 by Amy Lane Read Free Book Online Page A

then set the guitar down and turned toward Trav like he’d just asked the question.
    “Why?” Mackey asked, pulling his mouth up. “I don’t want the shit anymore. My body don’t need it. I just need some sleep and I’ll be—”
    “Addicted,” Trav said flatly. He’d seen guys get addicted in the Army. The boredom, the stress—it’d do it to you every time. Tracking those guys down had sucked. They’d been absolutely sure that if they explained why they needed the drugs, all would be forgiven. “Just because your body doesn’t need it doesn’t mean there’s not stuff in your mind that needs it, Mackey. You were open to it. It’s not like you took one pill and got hooked. Not even one hit of coke. It’s that it happened again and again.”
    Mackey shrugged and thought about it. “But I know how it happened,” he said, absolutely sure. “It happened ’cause I was stressing ’cause of the business. I’m not stressing anymore. I know how it works. Know what I’m s’posed to do. I’ll be fine.” He grinned. “I mean, once I get on stage, it’ll be great, you know? Once we start recording, it’ll be all sunshine and fucking roses. I don’t need no drugs when we’re making music. It’s better than Disneyland.”
    “Yeah.” Trav foundered. “But Mackey, music can’t be all you are!”
    And for the first time, he saw a crack in that “fuck you, I’m fine” thing Mackey had going. “Of course it can,” Mackey said, thrusting his lower lip out. “It’s who I am!”
    Trav frowned. “No—it’s a part of who you are, but I’m pretty sure you’re more than the music.”
    Mackey shook his head, serious as a fifth grader swearing a blood oath. “No, I’m not,” he said. Irrelevantly, Trav noticed that his eyelashes were blond with dark roots, like a baby’s. “Just ask my brothers. It’s all I’ve ever been.”
    “Well, it doesn’t have to be!” Trav laughed, trying to make the moment lighter. “Mackey, don’t you want… I don’t know. A house, a family, a cat? Don’t you want to take trips that have nothing to do with work or learn another language or get a degree in something?”
    But it was no use. Mackey’s face had shut down at the mention of a house, a family, a cat. “Man, lookit me. I’m not cut out for a house or a family—”
    “Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t have those things!” Trav burst out, and then really wanted to kick himself.
    Mackey didn’t even get angry—that would have been better. At least it would have been honest.
    Instead he just grinned and winked, and Trav could see him making that expression on stage as part of his act. “I’m not gay, brother,” he said, pulling his squirrel cheek back and making his dimple pop. “I’m only bi when I’m high!”
    Trav’s jaw dropped. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Heath had taught him that blasphemy.  His parents would be appalled, but Trav had learned to love it.
    Mackey laughed for real and played idly with the strings on the guitar. “You know, my first song was a church song that I twisted for purposes that were definitely not on Our Lord’s agenda,” Mackey said wickedly. Then he launched into a very charming version of “Simple Gifts” that, it was true, had probably never been sung in a church.
    Trav laughed bitterly when the song was done. “Was that you?” he asked. “Were you fighting all the time?”
    “Of course it was.” Mackey smirked. “You’ve known me for three days and you probably wanna smack me. Imagine living in the same fucking town!”
    “It’s not funny,” Trav rasped—partly because he did want to smack Mackey and partly because that would be a hell of a thing to grow up with. “‘Only bi when you’re high’ is a perfectly good reason to get high, isn’t it? How’re you going to have a relationship when you’re not jacked on pills, Mackey?”
    Mackey grunted and shifted his gaze left and right quickly, like he was searching for an