Mark, seated on top of his white stallion,
stared at them as they got the two horses ready for a rest in their
stalls.
Piccadilly turned to look at Mark, and Mark
was surprised he did. Mark said, "You want me off? Time for your
oats?"
He heard Dan chuckle at the comment.
Mark didn't want to get off. He rested
against Piccadilly's neck, hugging him, closing his eyes.
A touch on his shoulder brought Mark back
from his hazy thoughts. Jack was there, a serious expression on his
face. "Come on, babe."
Mark gathered his strength and climbed off
the horse while Jack held his waist.
"So, I take it you had a nice ride," Mr
Banks' voice echoed in the cool dim stable.
Mark cringed and looked at Jack for help.
What kind of help, Mark didn't know. But the man made Mark feel
like a weak child.
Jack replied, "Yes. There's no question we
are interested in purchasing the two horses."
Dan caught Mark's gaze quickly as he unhooked
Piccadilly's cinch, removing the English saddle. Mark read sympathy
there. Dan knew. Mark had a feeling Dan knew exactly what Mark was
dealing with.
"Yes. Well, they are prized breeding stock,"
Mr Banks said, stepping closer.
Mark leaned against the horse's hind quarters
as Dan continued to take care of it, removing the bridle.
Jack said, "There is the drive from LA, it's
three hours each way. So, we will probably look into boarding
closer to our home."
"I want to know where you are going to board
them. No deal unless I approve."
Mark finally turned to look at Mr Banks.
"These horses will get nothing but the finest, I assure you."
The inspection Mark received from this man
made him sick to his stomach. Mr Banks and Milt Richfield were of
the same ilk; rich, capitalists, and power mad.
Out of nowhere, Mr Banks asked Mark, "Are you
one of them fairy-boys?"
Bile rose in Mark's throat and he held his
stomach, turning away from him.
Jack stepped closer. "Excuse me?" he said in
annoyance. "What did you just ask him?"
"Jackie…" Mark shook his head, knowing it was
useless.
"You both are wearing wedding rings. And I
know queer marriage is unfortunately legal here in California
again. But, you got wives, right?"
"Oh, God…" Mark's head began to get light and
the sensation of blacking out began. One he knew well. He took a
step to get out of the barn, trying to make it to Jack's car.
"Are you kidding me?" Jack asked in fury.
"You're making the selling of these horses pending on some kind of
homophobic condition?"
Mark couldn't deal with it. It was the
recurring nightmare of his youth. He staggered towards Jack's car,
seeing it through a growing haze.
"My wife told me Mark is queer. She said she
read that in a magazine."
Mark reached Jack's car and dropped to his
knees, his ears ringing, his sight closing down.
Jack said something else that Mark didn't
understand. But before he blacked out, Jack was crouched beside
him. "Mark. You're okay. Sit in the car."
Mark could no longer function. He was hoisted
up, placed into the passenger's seat, and his head was urged
between his legs to stop him from fainting.
Mark closed his eyes and felt tears well up.
He could not win; could not escape the cruelty.
Outside the car an argument had broken out.
Mark could only catch snippets though his dizziness.
"I can't believe you'd ask that. Do you know
who Mark is? The top model of the Nation?"
"First you all want to marry each other, next
you'll be marrying my horse!"
"I can't believe what I'm hearing. That, Mr
Banks, is the most ignorant statement I've witnessed in years, and
I'm a goddamn attorney. So you take the damn cake!"
"Jack…" Mark reached for the car door.
"Jackie…please. Stop."
"You and that dead bastard Milt Richfield,"
Jack shouted, "You're all made out of the same dinosaur mold. Crawl
out of the rock you're living under, will ya? There's no need to
destroy Mark over your pigheaded attitude!"
"Jackie!" Mark cried in fury. "Stop!" Mark
covered his ears and heard Jack get into the car, slamming the
door. Mark made sure his door was closed and looked up
reluctantly.
Travis Banks was staring at him. Not with
disgust, but with something else. Regret? Mark turned away before
he got any type of leer and sank in the seat.
Jack was fuming beside him, spinning up
gravel as the powerful car made its way down the lane. "Fucking,
piece of goddamn shit…"
"Jackie…stop." Mark felt exhausted.
The ranting quieted and Mark stared out of
the window, but did not see. He was in misery reliving the abuse of
his late father, and now, denied the pleasure of owning a horse he
loved.
~
"Where ya headed?" Alex asked.
"Out. Just going to hit the grocery store. Be
back." Billy clipped his lieutenant badge to his belt along with
his off duty weapon. He noticed both Adam and Alex's gaze move
towards it as he did.
"Does it suck having to carry a gun
everywhere?" Adam asked.
"No." Billy pocketed his phone and made sure
he had his wallet. "Be back soon." He left, walking through the
kitchen door that connected to the garage and tapped the button as
he did, raising the double garage door up.
He hopped into his pickup truck and removed
the paper with an address out of his pocket. Seeing it was in
Malibu, Billy headed to the highway, putting on his sunglasses and
drumming his finger on the steering wheel impatiently.
Since it was Saturday and not rush hour, it
didn't take more than an hour. Billy slowed down as he came closer
to the address. He drove by it and then spotted a black Mercedes
coming from the opposite direction, also slowly driving down the
road. "What the fuck?" Billy flashed his headlights to get the
driver's attention. When he did, he caught Steve gaping at him in
surprise. Billy signaled for Steve to turn his car around, then
drove beyond the beachfront home and parked. In his side mirror,
Billy watched Steve make a U-turn and pull his car behind him. They
both got out and met between the two cars.
"Son-of-a-bitch," Billy said, shaking his
head.
"Jeff told me you already asked him for the
address when I called."
"Where's Mark?"
"He and Jack went to look at horses." Steve
leaned on his car and gazed at the beach house. "Not far from Adam
and Jack's place. Our luck they'll drive by and catch us
stalking."
"Fuck that." Billy leaned against the car
beside Steve. "I want to go knock. I want a face to face with this
guy."
"What if it fucks up the contract for
Alex?"
"I thought about that. But Adam is signing it
now with Alex. So, done deal."
"Huh." Steve and Billy stared at the house.
"I won't be happy until I talk to him."
"You?" Billy shook his head at the
absurdity.
"It seems as if he's straight."
"That's a front. He's never seen with the
same woman twice."
"Yeah. I guess. Thirty-eight, never married,
no kids."
"Yup." Billy folded his arms. "How do we do
this?"
"Ya can't go in on police biz, Sharpe." Steve
tilted his head at the gun and badge.
"Wasn't planning to. But thought it was a
good intimidation factor."
"He's probably not home."
"Don't know until we knock."
"Fuck it. Let's knock."
Billy armed his truck with a chirp, and he
and Steve walked across the street and down the block. The home was
slightly set back from the road and not overly huge. But in
California, it was location, location…and beachfront property in
Malibu was 'location'.
Both he and Steve stopped at a gated drive.
"Two car garage, pretty typical." Billy leaned on the rail.
"Nicely landscaped. He's got the money to
have several homes, you know that, right?"
"True. God knows what that fucker earns. You
know what they're paying Alex?"
Steve glanced at Billy. "Christ. Do I want
to?"
"Five grand a day."
"Fuck!"
"And Alex isn't even a film star. My guess is
this guy makes millions for each picture."
"He'd better be straight."
"What are we supposed to do if he's not?"
Billy looked around the area. "Beat him straight?"
Steve laughed.
"I'm going for it." Billy pushed a button for
a buzzer.
Steve kept a lookout from behind.
"Yes?" a voice came from the intercom on the
pillar near the gate.
"I'm looking for Randy Dawson." Billy met
Steve's eyes.
"Who are you?"
"Lt Billy Sharpe, LAPD." Billy shrugged at
Steve. "It'll get us in," he whispered.
Indeed a buzzer sounded and the electronic
gate swung back.
"We're in Malibu. Doesn't the fucker know you
have no jurisdiction here?" Steve asked as the two of them walked
up to the front door.
"He knows why I'm here." Billy ran his hand
through his hair.
The front door opened and a man wearing a
robe and swimsuit stood behind it.
"Well, well," Randy smiled, a pure white
Hollywood grin. "Lt Sharpe of the LAPD."
"This is Steve Miller." Billy tilted his head
to Steve.
"Mark Richfield's hubby. Yes. I know who he
is. Come in." Randy opened the door. He was holding a cocktail and
his robe was parted, showing off his fabulous body. "Care for a
mimosa?"
Steve muttered out of the side of his mouth
to Billy, "Gay."
"I'll pass," Billy said. "I hope we're not
intruding." Billy took in the sunk-in living room, fireplace, and a
view from the back of a deck above the white sand right to the
ocean.
"You didn't have to come armed, Lieutenant."
Randy smirked, showing the men into the living room.
"Regulation." Billy looked for photos in the
room, hoping to see one of Randy with a woman. The script for the
film was on a coffee table, as if Randy had been reading it while
he was sipping his mimosa. The sliding door was open, a breeze
coming from outside.
"I was on the deck. Care to join me? Or would
you rather stay indoors?"
"Let me just get to the point." Billy crossed
his arms.
"Ah yes. Alexander." Randy sipped the drink
and glanced at Steve. "What about him? What's his point?"
"Alex is only twenty-four." Steve walked
towards the coffee table. Billy knew he was inspecting the
magazines for clues of a preference.
"I know. And?" Randy set the glass down and
closed the sliding door.
"Do you live here alone?" Billy asked.
"I do. Why?"
"Are you dating anyone?" Steve asked.
"Not at the moment. Look, gentlemen, I know
Alex is married. And I'm straight."
Steve made a noise in his throat of disbelief
but Billy kept a poker face. "Of course you are. We know that."
"Then why the surprise visit? Do you think
Alex will be tempted?" He sat down on a soft suede chair, crossing
his legs.
"No." Billy bristled and tried not to stare
at the man's great body.
"No." Randy looked from Steve back to Billy.
"Then you think I'll be tempted?"
Steve stepped closer. "Will you?"
Randy laughed. "You know how many people I
have kissed in my film career? I don't have affairs with them all.
Believe me."
"None of them were like Alex," Billy said,
moving closer, his badge and gun near Randy's eye level.
"I understand your concern. But I'm not
gay."
"Alex is very attractive," Steve said, "In an
androgynous way."
"He is. Yes." Randy nodded. "That still
doesn't mean I want cock." Randy gave Billy a once over. "Is this
really a threat? You two coming here to warn me…if? If something
occurs between Alex and I, you'll? What? Bury me in a cement suit
in the ocean?"
"No." Billy showed his teeth.
"Expose you," Steve said.
Randy's countenance changed drastically. He
stood and closed his robe with the belt. "I think it's time for you
to leave."
Billy nodded to Steve and they walked to the
door.
Before they left Randy said, "I don't
appreciate this. I want it on record that this was harassment."
"Duly noted," Steve said, smirking.
"And Alex can be replaced. He was just hired
on a whim. George Ford's daughter has a thing for him."
Steve grabbed Randy by the shoulders of the
robe and slammed him against the wall roughly. Billy figured the
comment was just meant to enflame them so he reached to stop
Steve.
Steve drew closer to Randy and snarled. "You
fuck up my son's career and I will get even."
"Steve." Billy nudged him.
Randy didn't say a word, looking completely
intimidated.
Steve released him and Randy straightened out
his robe and ran his hand over his brown hair nervously.
Steve walked out of the door and Billy
paused, making eye contact with Randy. "I didn't want it to be like
this. I just wanted to meet you."
"Sure, Lieutenant." Randy laughed at the
absurdity.
"It's Captain, actually. I've been promoted."
Billy was glad he was slightly taller than Randy, and able to look
down at him.
"LAPD is known for their bullies. I'm not
surprised."
"And Hollywood is known for their closet
queens. You keep my secret, I'll keep yours."
"Goodbye." Randy pointed to the door.
Billy left and heard it slam behind him. He
met Steve at the electronic gate and they gave each other a timid
glance.
"Well, we either set him straight or got Alex
fired." Steve blew out a loud breath.
"I told you. Contract signed." Billy put his
arm around Steve's shoulder. "I need a fucking drink."
"Ditto." Steve shook his head and patted
Billy's back.
~
Jack pulled into Mark's driveway and parked.
He shut off the car and looked at Mark, who hadn't said a word the
whole ride back. Frowning as he opened the door, Jack took the car
keys and walked around to open Mark's side of the car. He reached
out his hand.