The Guy With the Suitcase (Once Upon a Guy #1) (6 page)

His anger had dissipated as he vented. When he finished he felt breathless and cold. His stomach pulsed and his head felt light as he came to the realization that everyone was now staring at him and he had embarrassed himself. Tears started shaping in his eyeballs. Before he made an even bigger fool of himself, he decided to leave.

He heard the guy say as he opened the door, “If you can come to work washed, clean-shaven, and with ironed clothes, you can start next Friday.”

Pierce froze in his position, the tears finally releasing onto his cheeks. He wiped them before he turned to look at the bar manager. “You…you mean that?”

“I only have a need for a weekender, so I can only give you two, maybe three shifts a week, but only if you can come to work like I said,” the guy told him. “And I’m not being an asshole, but I really can’t…”

“Thank you,” Pierce cut him. “That’s enough for me. Thank you,” he repeated and his eyes stung as they were threatened by the invasion of more tears.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked.

“Pierce. Callahan,” he said, thrusting the guy his resumé, so that he could confirm it on the paper. He took it.

“Well, Pierce, I’m Vance,” he said and reached into his pocket. He took something out and passed it to Pierce. “Here. Go buy yourself some clothes from somewhere. I’m sorry for being such a dick before,” he said.

Pierce felt the bills in his hand, but couldn’t believe how good the man he’d just screamed at turned out to be. “You made up for it by being such an angel. Thank you. I’ll see you next Friday,” he said and opened the door to leave for the third time.
 

“Oh, what time do you want me here?” he asked.

***

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you please do that for me? It will be the first and last time,” Pierce was sitting at the reception desk opposite the hostel staff member.

He had come with a plan on his way back and now was trying to implement it. Someone had given him a chance and he didn’t want to let him down. Someone had believed in him when his own blood couldn’t.

“I’m sorry. It’s our policy. We don’t accept last minute cancelations,” the guy said. He was Asian. Chinese from what Pierce could tell, with near-perfect English. He was rather chubby in the face, but quite adorable nonetheless. He’d be a stud if he let him have his way, though.

“Come on, man. Level with me. I’ve been out all day looking for a job. No one even gave me a second look, and then finally, this guy — this
angel
— gave me an opportunity. All I ask is that I transfer the second night I paid for to next Thursday so I can come here to clean up and turn up for my first job with the same respect he’s given me,” he told him.

The receptionist grimaced, twitched his mouth, then rolled his eyes. “Okay. But don’t tell anyone I did that. It could cost
me
my own job.”

Pierce smiled broadly. It seemed Vance had the magic touch. He felt like he could accomplish anything at that moment. He sprang up, planted a kiss in the guy’s cheek, and strolled out of the hostel with his suitcase and his dignity intact. Life was good!

Of course, it had to be that moment he came to the realization that the temperature outside had dropped considerably. Describing it as lightly chilly would be the understatement of the year. It was motherfucking cold. It was the clear return to reality, his reality. He might have found a job, but it would be more than a couple of months before he could rent a room. He didn’t even know what he would be paid, if the place had good tips. It looked like it should. It was a classy bistro in the Village. It’d be crazy if it didn’t. But he would still have to live on the streets most nights to save money for an actual room.

He felt like punching himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he focusing on all the cons? What had happened to him? He used to be such a positive person. A healthy man with a passion for his body and an empathy for the planet he lived on. He was a recycler, an energy and water saver, and a vegan bodybuilder in the making. To an outsider’s eye, he would be the epitome of a hipster, coming from a middle-class Christian family from Upstate New York. But he was nothing like his parents. They were the reason he’d become so pessimistic. Before they kicked him out, he was his own man. Now, he was a nobody at the mercy of the kindness of strangers.

No. Pierce dismissed the negativity for now. He was going look at everything good about his life at that particular moment. He had a job. In a few months, he’d have a room, hopefully sooner if it paid well. His
own
room. Maybe next year he could resume college too. If to have all that he had to sleep wherever he could for another month or so, he would brave the winter. He would sleep in the subway. He would sleep at Central Park. He wouldn’t even care if he’d get pissed on or mugged again. If that’s what it took to kick start his life, he would do it.

A shout permeated his ears and he turned to find the source. He couldn’t see anything, but a second scream guided him down the road he was walking and in to an alley between two apartment buildings. Two men were knelt on the ground pinning someone from the hands and legs while a third guy was unbuttoning the victim’s trousers, shutting his mouth with his hand.
 

The victim was also a guy. Pierce knew because he tried to ungag his mouth and grunted.

“Shut the fuck up, boy. When you give up your ass, you ain’t screaming.”

“Hey!” Pierce shouted at the guys before he could control himself.

The guy who was doing the unbuttoning turned and, seeing Pierce, stood up. Pierce etched closer. The only streetlight in the alley hit the victim’s face and Pierce recognized it. It was Rafe.

“What do you want?” the
cabrón
asked. The one who had started all this.

“I think it’s pretty clear the guy doesn’t want your dick in his mouth,” his potential savior said, “Frankly, I understand his sentiment. So, why don’t you let him go?” Rafe couldn’t see his face. The streetlight behind him was only gave him a silhouette but no features.

“Run along, boy. You
don’t
wanna get involved in this,” the
cabrón
said. He was a 5-foot-something man with a cap on and a young face. He had big muscles and a generally big physique. The guy across him didn’t stand a chance. He was tall and much thinner.

“Oh, something tells me I
really
wanna get involved in this. I also have the feeling this gonna end badly for some of you,” the guy paused, then continued with a chuckle. “Don’t—don’t you get the same feeling? Is it just me?”

Rafe’s brusque attacker wasn’t having any of the attitude. “
Papi
,” he said, “you better run away now or you’ll regret this,” hitting his fist on his palm.

“Ooh, I’m scared,” the guy derided. “But, honestly, that feeling is telling me that
you
will be the one to regret this. Isn’t that weird? I don’t know about you, but I want to put the feeling to the test,” he said and let down his briefcase.

Rafe looked closer. As the guy bent down, the light touched briefly on the side of his head and he saw blue piercing eyes. And then the light hit the briefcase, which turned out to be a small suitcase. Could it—could it really be Pierce? Was he so fortunate? When the
burro
started running towards him, though, Rafe wished it wasn’t Pierce. He didn’t want him involved in his life. He didn’t want him hurt in his expense. He didn’t want that beautiful face ruined by the stitches he’d have to get after that asshole was done with him.

The
cholo
charged at Pierce with a fist raised in the air. Pierce took a few steps forward, hunched, and forced his arm in the guy’s stomach, avoiding his punch in the process. He put his leg behind his feet and brought the guy on the ground with a thud. The
cholo
groaned. Pierce punched him in the face several times until he lost the strength to fight back.

“
Hijo de puta
,” said the guy pinning Rafe’s legs and he felt the release of the pressure in his ankles as he stood to confront Pierce.
 

He raised his palms in front of him, protecting his face and called to Pierce, provoking him. He didn’t take long to catch the bait. He left the short guy to lick his wounds and walked towards the other attacker, who stood almost as tall as Pierce himself. But he didn’t attack him. He waited, jumping left and right, waiting.

Not too many seconds later, Rafe heard the second guy roar as he aimed a punch towards Pierce. Pierce ducked and pushed the arm away from him. Then kicked the guy’s groins, which had been left wide open and unprotected.

Rafe decided to help the situation. He was sure once Pierce knocked the second guy down, the third one would go looking for the same kind of fate his friends were suffering. But not if he could help himself. Since his legs were free now and the third guy was holding his hands above him with such strength, it only took a clumsy somersault for Rafe to place his foot straight into the guy’s face and land on his feet like a feline male version of Catwoman. He pushed his knee up the guy’s stomach to knock him senseless, and when that didn’t do much, he imitated his savior and melted the man’s balls with his foot.
 

“I told ya I had a feeling, guys,” Pierce commented as he dusted his hands.

Rafe looked on the floor where the second man was lying, lamenting his new-found impotence. Chuckling loud, Pierce approached Rafe. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the cold and his knees trembled. His legs gave up on him when Pierce took him in his arms.

“Are you okay, Rafe?” he asked him. Rafe nodded. “Can you walk?” Rafe nodded again. “Okay, let’s go, buddy. Before they try anything foolish again”.

Pierce put Rafe’s arm around his neck and his own arm around Rafe’s back and grabbed his suitcase with his free hand.

He carried Rafe back to the main street and then led him to the closest avenue. Rafe felt Pierce’s fingertips massaging the back of his palm of the arm that was around his neck. He didn’t say anything, however. He kept quiet and kept looking back to make sure the assholes weren’t following.

They were on Frederick Douglass Avenue in no time. When they were hit by the bright city lights he asked Rafe if he was okay to walk on his own. Rafe replied positively and lifted whatever wait he had leaned on Pierce to support himself. They headed south, walking at a slow pace, passing by closing stores and underlit side streets.

“How are you feeling? Did those bastards manage to hurt you before I got there?” Pierce whispered next to him.

“No,” Rafe shook his head. “Not really. You were there just in time. My savior,” Rafe smiled at Pierce. Pierce avoided his gaze.

“What happened back there?” he said instead.

Rafe calculated his words before he spoke them. He was too embarrassed to admit to Pierce that he was a rentboy, a prostitute. He already thought low of him. He didn’t want to sink the bar even lower.

“Nothing. They saw me walking down the street and started catcalling me and following me. Then they pushed me into the alley. The rest, you know,” he said.

“I hate people. On most days,” Pierce commented and he halted his pacing in front of a 24/7 cafe just a block away from Central Park. “Come,” he said, “I’ll buy you coffee”.

Rafe didn’t hesitate to follow him inside the orange tinted place and take a seat by the window display. Not only had he saved him from rape, he was buying him coffee too. The more times he encountered Pierce, the more gentlemanly he seemed to be.

“So...how are things?” Rafe asked putting an end to the uncomfortable silence that had been lingering between them since they’d taken a seat.

Pierce nodded. “Things are great. I just managed to get a part-time job,” he said.

Rafe smiled. “That’s incredible. How did that happen? Where?” he asked, as the waitress stopped in front of them, leaving two glasses of water on their table and taking their order. Rafe ordered his hot cocoa and Pierce a filtered coffee.

As soon as the waitress left to prepare their drinks, he replied, “I went around town asking for a job and this amazing guy gave me one after like, a ton of rejections. It’s in a bistro bar down at the Village.”

“That’s cool. Lucky you,” Rafe answered.

Pierce thanked him and his cheeks flushed as he smiled. His eyes avoided Rafe’s gaze, looking instead at the still water in front of him. How cute. Rafe was convinced that Pierce was once as sweet as he appeared now, and that the situations that brought him to the streets had made him the guy he’d seen the first time he met him. Stealing aside.

“So you’re gonna be leaving the streets now, right?” Rafe asked.

Pierce sipped his water and finally turned his eyes to the man across him. “I hope so. As soon as I get enough money to rent a room,” he replied.

“That’s incredible, Pierce. When you do, don’t forget us lost souls,” he told him.

Pierce shook his head. “I would never. I’ve spent enough time on the streets to carry the experience for life,” he replied with a depth to his voice. A depth that radiated with Rafe. He knew what he was talking about. It was a weight they would both carry for life, even if Rafe managed to get off the streets at any time in his life, which he deemed unlikely. He would probably die before he could have a family, a life again. The thought brought his
madre
to his mind and how heartbreaking it’d be for her if she never saw her son again. He had a job as well. He just needed to get better at it, if he was to leave the streets and reunite with his mother in the future.