Why couldn’t Trevor have listened to him? Why couldn’t he have liked
him the way he liked all the other bois at
Zara’s
, the way he liked that Rasta
drug dealer Jazmon? Trevor had a smile and a kind word for all of them,
was a friend to all. Why not
him?
He had never done anything to Trevor
except tried to help him, love him the way he needed to be loved.
He deserved more. He deserved better.
His thoughts died an abrupt and frightening death when he saw the
restroom door open and the two EMTs wheeled Trevor out on the stretcher
with an oxygen mask over his face and an IV inserted in one arm.
That Trevor had evidently survived presented all sorts of complications
and wonderful possibilities, he almost couldn’t contain himself.
But he would have to until he got Trevor alone again.
* * * *
What was it about this one particular club kid that had Ramsey softening in some places and hardening in others he had long ago forgotten existed?
The boi was nothing but trouble, plain and simple, a Paris Hilton/Lindsey Lohan wannabe with more time on his hands than sense and enough self-destructive energy to spare.
Ramsey couldn’t count the times the kid had come into the club and hadn’t been at the center of a disturbance, from drunken brawls, using drugs and having sex in the restroom to just plain making a nuisance of himself.
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11
He had been put on Ramsey’s banned list a long time ago, but one way or another he managed to get into
Zara’s
almost every Friday and Saturday night.
Ramsey decided he was going to have to sniff out the loose link in the bouncer staff because Quincy Powers didn’t go for any stupid illegal shit in his club and wouldn’t stand for another scene like what went on in the bathroom tonight without making some heads roll.
Ramsey really didn’t need this type of shit in his life right now.
But damned if he didn’t find himself sitting at Trevor Carmichael’s bedside in St. Vincent’s Hospital waiting for the guy’s brother to arrive and take up the vigil.
Not that watching over the twinkie was any real hardship for Ramsey.
He could have sat there all morning just admiring the way the wavy chestnut hair framed Trevor’s finely-sculpted, tawny features. Just remembering the kid’s long-lashed, Caribbean-blue eyes—open and dulled with a subtle edge of confusion right before Trevor passed out—sent equal parts lust and sympathy spiraling from Ramsey’s chest straight to his cock.
How could one person be so innocent and sinful in the same breath, so young yet too worldly wise and cynical for his own good?
Ramsey knew the type—profligate and jaded, spoiled by overindulgent parents, extravagant, material things and the fast life, but grateful for nothing.
Maybe he was so soft on Trevor because the kid reminded him of his younger self and his own younger brother, Kyle and how rough they had had it growing up.
There but for the grace of God go I.
Either one of them could have just as easily wound up in the same position as Trevor, OD’d in a back alley somewhere with a needle sticking out of their arm, just another urban, ghetto statistic, just another dead African-American male.
He leaned forward, brushed a lock of hair from Trevor’s forehead, fingers lingering against his cheek, and a question hovering in his mind.
Why? What caused the guy so much pain? What was he running from that he thought he could find escape in drugs? And why was Ramsey so fucking soft for
and
turned on by him?
“He’s alive?”
12
Gracie C. McKeever
Ramsey turned and jerked his gaze towards the door where Trevor’s mirror image stood frozen on the threshold gaping at Trevor then Ramsey as if he’d seen a ghost.
Ramsey understood the other man’s shock. He had seen his share of ghosts starting with and most notably, Zara Benjamin’s. Not that he’d admit it to a soul, especially anyone at the club. Let the kids have their fun with the haunted nightclub story. Him, he didn’t have time to entertain the frivolity.
He gawked as Trevor’s brother stood at the door, hadn’t known the guy was an identical twin. It threw him to see the brother standing there so healthy and vital when not an hour ago Ramsey had been pumping on his mirror image’s chest praying he didn’t die.
There was one difference though. Ramsey wasn’t attracted to Trevor’s brother, knew the man was straight as well as straight-laced. It was clear who the “bad boy” was between the pair.
“I…I thought he was dead.” Trevor’s brother stumbled across the floor, glance glued to his brother dwarfed by all the wires, tubes and monitors attached to him.
“We had a close call, but he’s alive.” Ramsey couldn’t stop himself from staring as Trevor’s brother stood on the opposite side of the bed gripping the railing with both hands.
Guilt was in full force. He’d only been thinking about screwing Trevor silly, a mammoth hard-on pressing against his jeans when his brother walked in.
Damn, he needed to get his mind out of the gutter and Trevor’s hospital gown before he made a fool of himself. “I’m Ramsey Logan, a bouncer at
Zara’s
.” He offered a hand and waited as Trevor’s brother stared at it a moment as if afraid it would bite before he put his hand in Ramsey’s.
“Travis Carmichael. I’m, uh…I guess you already know I’m Trevor’s twin brother.”
“Yeah, I guessed.” Ramsey smiled, sensed the other man’s discomfort and wanted to put him at ease, his protective instincts kicking in as they had at the club when Trevor had lain on the cold tile of the bathroom with no pulse and no reaction.
“What happened?”
Bouncer’s Folly: Zara’s Bois 3
13
Now that was a loaded question, one Ramsey didn’t think he had an answer to except the tail-end part. “I got called into the restroom by a couple of twi—a couple of guys who witnessed your brother passed out on the floor.”
“He OD’d?”
“That’s the story. I performed CPR and revived him before the EMTs arrived and rushed him here. That’s about all I can tell you.”
“So, these witnesses, were they a pair of his get-high buddies or honest-to-God innocent bystanders who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
Ramsey got the feeling Travis knew a lot about his brother’s habits and wasn’t too happy about them.
Join the club
. “You’d have to speak to them or the cops who took their statements. Like I said, I got called in after the fact.”
“I’m sorry for grilling you. It’s not your fault what happened.”
“No problem.”
“I want to thank you for saving my brother’s life.”
“It’s nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done.”
Travis shook his head, doubtfully staring down at Trevor. “Sometimes I don’t know what goes on in his mind.” He raised his gaze from Trevor and Ramsey saw the tears glistening. “He wasn’t always like this. I know it’s a cliché, but he used to be a good kid. Then he just…changed.”
Ramsey nodded, wondering if Trevor’s change had anything to do with the brothers’ parents. From his earlier phone call to the pair, Ramsey gathered they were two pieces of work who didn’t care if their son lived or died and refused to come to the hospital to see him.
He decided not to bring up that little tidbit. He was sure, Travis must be aware of the rancor and if not, why would he escape their parents’ special treatment and not Trevor?
The possibilities boggled the mind and bumped up Ramsey’s sympathy quotient for Trevor Carmichael a notch.
Ramsey stood from his chair fully prepared to say his good-byes and leave before Trevor’s eyes fluttered and opened. He paused, eager to look into that troubled blue gaze again. Damn, he was a glutton for punishment!
“Where’s Zack? I need to talk to Zack.”
14
Gracie C. McKeever
Ramsey frowned. The only Zack he knew was one of the owners of
Zara’s
. “Zack Benjamin?”
Trevor nodded. “I need to speak to my brother,” he rasped and Travis caught his hand.
“I’m right here.”
Trevor looked at him and mumbled, “Oh God, this isn’t happening. I can’t believe they did this to me again.”
Both Travis and Ramsey leaned closer and chorused, “Who did what to you again?”
Trevor moved his glance from Travis to Ramsey. “I need to get out of here. Right now.”
Ramsey just looked at him, dumbfounded. What was he supposed to say?
Luckily, his brother jumped in and filled the gap. “Trev, you almost died. Don’t you think you should take it easy and get your bearings before you go running back to your drugged-out, miscreant friends?”
Trevor turned to Travis. “Who are you?”
Travis sighed. “Are you going to play the amnesia card now because I wouldn’t loan you money to go clubbing?”
“Amnesia? But I never…Oh, fuck.” Trevor suddenly slapped his hands over his face and shook his head, groaning.
“That’s about what you were a couple of hours ago. And you’d probably be in a freezer with a tag on your toe right now if it wasn’t for Ramsey Logan.”
Trevor spread his fingers and peeked at Ramsey through a small opening between them.
“Hi,” Ramsey said, stopping just short of laughing at Trevor’s antics.
There was no doubting the man was endearing, even near death and in a hospital bed.
“Hi, Ramsey Logan. Thanks for saving my life.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“If you’re through clowning around and flirting…” Travis gave his brother a stern look as he folded his arms across his chest, looking like a disapproving parent instead of a sibling.
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15
Ramsey wondered if he was the oldest between the brothers. Even if he was only older by minutes, he had that bossy, protective vibe that Ramsey recognized in himself.
Trevor snatched his hands from his face. “I’m not clowning around. I’m just a little—”
“Disoriented maybe?” Travis said.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“So don’t you think it’s a good idea for you to stay in the hospital, at least overnight, until you’re feeling not so disoriented?”
“I guess that would be a good idea.”
“At least we agree on that much.”
“Can you tell me where I am?”
“St. Vincent’s Hospital,” Travis said. “I’m going to go call Mom and Dad to let them know you’re all right.”
“Okay,” Trevor said and watched as his brother turned on his heels and left the room. He turned his gaze on Ramsey and grinned.
Ramsey felt the most alien fluttering low in his belly before his balls tightened at the sight of Trevor’s smile. Damn, those full sensual lips and deep dimples could heat up a room!
“Sorry to ruin your night.”
Ramsey shrugged, trying not to get dragged in by Trevor’s boyish sex appeal again. He’d made a mistake earlier in the night by letting him stay in the club once he’d noticed him on the dance floor instead of ejecting him like he should have done. He always had that option, one he could exercise at his discretion. And with a boi like Trevor Carmichael, someone with a rep for trouble, coming up with justification to show him the door wouldn’t have been hard.
“Second guessing your decision to save my life?”
“What makes you say that?”
Trevor shrugged. “The scowl on your face, maybe.”
“Hazard of the job.”
“Are you on duty now?”
“I’m always on duty.”
“Is the bouncer gig part-time and your bread and butter is law enforcement? Cop right?”
16
Gracie C. McKeever
“I’m a personal trainer,” he said and stood as still as possible, schooling his features when Trevor’s gaze roved his body from head to waist, lingering at his crotch before finally dragging back up to his face. He felt like he had been stripped and fondled all over in that one silent instant.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to stare?”
“Sure, but I was just checking to see whether you practice what you teach.”
“And do I?”
Trevor licked his lips. “Most unequivocally.”
Ramsey stopped just short of shuddering at Trevor’s blatant appreciation. The kid was resilient, he’d give him that. He went from death’s door to tempting seducer without missing a single beat. “I’d better get going.”
“Don’t let me scare you off.”
“Kid, you couldn’t.”
“Kid? You can’t be much older than me, if at all.”
“Maybe not chronologically.”
“Ooh, that hurts.”
Ramsey chuckled, reached out a hand, cursing himself as he did so but couldn’t resist. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from Trevor’s forehead and let his palm rest there as he sank into the soulful blue eyes. He wondered again at the secrets behind those young-old eyes, and what Trevor was so obviously trying to escape. It was on the tip of his tongue to just ask, but he didn’t know the kid well enough for that, told himself he didn’t
want
to know him well enough but knew he was a liar. “Get some rest and try to stay out of trouble.”
“I will if you promise to come back and see me tomorrow.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“I know it wouldn’t, but will you come anyway? Please?”
Damn it, he’d always been a sucker for a hard dick and a smile. But more than these and his own hunger were the vulnerability and need he saw shining out of Trevor’s eyes, a silent appeal for help that spoke louder than words and that Ramsey couldn’t deny.
He took a deep breath, cursing his softness as he slid his hand down from Trevor’s face to his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Bouncer’s Folly: Zara’s Bois 3
17
St. Vincent’s Hospital – Lower Manhattan
Was there something about her that made Micah and Jamaereh believe she’d have been better off as a male? Sure she’d been a tomboy as a child, regularly competing with the boys in foot races and fence-climbing contests, but this was a different kettle of popcorn altogether. And she’d never had those innate feelings that most transsexuals had about being born the wrong sex.