In Edgefield? In
Sonny"s?
The dark-haired man lifted his head and took a long swig from his beer. The
guy from out front last night.
Jay had no idea how to tell if someone was gay, but that long stare they"d
exchanged had seemed like…something.
The man"s shirt was untucked, hanging out past the bottom of his jacket. His
ragged face sported several days" worth of stubble. His attention was focused on the
beer in front of him, which he held on to with both hands. The expression on his
face, his posture, the way he clung to his beer told of the despair. Lost. Broken.
Breathe
27
Was Jay looking in a goddamn mirror?
* * *
“You watching the game? Who do you think"s going to win?”
Lincoln lit a smoke and ignored the questions. The kid had sat one stool away
from him twenty minutes earlier and ordered a beer he"d downed in two gulps.
Same guy Lincoln had seen outside the other night. Young. Gorgeous. With a
sadness in his eyes a little too familiar. Probably a regular who had started coming
in while he was at the jail. Lincoln had readied himself to find another seat if the
kid talked too much. Damn regulars always felt the need to talk even when no one
was listening.
Instead, the kid had ordered another beer and stared at the television set
hanging over the bar, not even glancing away at the commercials, until he asked
about the game. Lincoln didn"t offer an opinion. It wasn"t like he even knew who
was playing.
The bartender stopped by, and Lincoln gestured for another beer. He gathered
the new bottle in his hands and stared down the mouth at the liquid. He wanted a
whiskey, but the beers would let him get his ass to Nancy"s. He"d start in on the pint
of Jack there.
The kid reached for a bowl of nuts in front of Lincoln, picked up a peanut, and
took his time smashing it between his fingers, freeing the nuts from their shell.
Lincoln silently cursed himself out as he watched the kid chew the nuts and lick the
salt off his lips.
Damn . Maybe he should make a trip to the Forge sooner rather than later, find
himself a nameless blowjob. If assholes like the ones from earlier caught him
staring at good-looking straight guys in Sonny"s, he"d get a pounding on the walk
back.
Laughter erupted from the table of bowlers behind him, and they belted out a
chorus of “We Are the Champions.”
“Must have won the league championship.”
Lincoln rolled his eyes and took another drink. Great. The kid was a talker
after all. Lincoln grunted. There. He wasn"t ignoring the man.
The bartender brought the kid a new beer and said, “Nope. Five years in a row
they came in last place. Not this year. They were second to last.”
“Oh.” The kid turned on the stool and glanced at the men in bowling shirts.
“Should I tell them champions doesn"t mean „we suck, but hey, at least we don"t
suck the most"?”
Lincoln huffed out a short laugh, almost choking on a mouthful of beer. He
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Don"t laugh while you"re drinking,” the kid said. “Beer up the nose burns like
hell.”
28
Sloan Parker
Good-looking and funny. At any other time in his life, Lincoln would have been
seriously interested.
The kid slid onto the empty stool between them. “Can I bum a smoke?”
With the back of his hand Lincoln slid over his pack of Marlboros.
“Thanks.” The kid picked up the smokes. He dug one out and placed the pack
next to Lincoln"s beer. “Uh, you got a light?”
The guy was really killing his buzz. Lincoln fished the lighter from his pocket
and tossed it to the kid, who fumbled the catch but saved the lighter from hitting
the wood floor. Good thing. Lincoln"s grandpa had given it to him. He didn"t need it
scuffed up.
He also didn"t need the kid sitting so damn close. He smelled clean, refreshing
after time spent with the jailhouse inmates who weren"t sure how to work the
showers or the sinks. The kid held out the lighter, his eyes wide, his lips
Learning to Kill: Stories