Shine - Lauren Myracle [88]
“Gave his boyfriend the boot,” the Kid clarified. “And no. I already tole you. When Patrick came, it was always with his damn lover boy, and only with his damn lover boy. That’s why I had to make it all or nothin’, see?”
I was confused. If it was always Patrick and his lover boy, where did that leave Beef—and how did Beef end up with the matches?
Maybe Beef knew about Billy the Kid’s, but was too homophobic to step inside, so he waited out in the alley. Or maybe I was overthinking things, and it was as simple as Beef saying, “Hey, buddy, got a light?” and Patrick tossing him the pack from his own pocket.
Unless Beef came here on his own, without Patrick. What if Beef and Patrick’s boyfriend were in business together? What if Beef, like the Kid, realized that the guy was bad news?
“Lay down with a dog, you gonna wake up with fleas,” the Kid said. “And that boyfriend, he had the scary eyes. Thought he might go after me when I tole him he was disallowed, but Patrick calmed him down. Still, I keep a rifle under the bar just in case.”
I chewed my lip. “Did any straight guys ever come here? To buy drugs or sell drugs or whatever?”
The Kid narrowed his eyes. “Why you want to know that?”
“I just do. I need to know.”
“No you don’t, so get outta here,” he said. “Your two minutes done up and flown away a long time ago.”
I pushed back from the table and stood up. Jason did the same.
“It’s just . . . there’s this guy, okay?” I said. “A white guy, about this tall”—I put my hand above me—“with dark hair and dark eyes. He used to have a crew cut, but he’s been letting it grow out, so his hair’s kinda scraggly.”
The Kid raised his eyebrows. “And I care because?”
“He’s skinny, but strong,” I said, trying to describe Beef so that the Kid could see him like I did. “Used to be a wrestler. Has a nice smile. Oh, and he’s got a scar under his eye, right about here.” I drew a line under my left eye to show the place on Beef where Roy sliced him with his class ring.
The Kid folded his huge arms over his chest. “Why you playing me, gal? I tole you, I gave his sorry ass the boot.”
I felt a tingling between my shoulder blades. “I know, but I’m not talking about Patrick’s boyfriend. I’m talking about another guy.”
“Ohhhh, I see. You talking about another scrawny white dude with hair that needs cutting, a pretty smile, and a moon under his eye?”
My mind put the pieces together, but my body couldn’t grasp it. I swayed. Jason reached out to steady me.
“There ain’t two of ’em unless they’s twins,” the Kid said.
“But Beef has a girlfriend,” I said dumbly.
“Beef. Yeah, that’s it,” the Kid said.
“You’re saying Beef is Patrick’s boyfriend,” Jason said.
“For the hundredth time, yeah,” the Kid said. “Now get outta here.”
We did, though the actual leaving part was foggy because of how my mind was spinning: Beef pushing Bailee-Ann away and blaming it on her being drunk. Bailee-Ann stepping out on Beef with Tommy. The fight between Beef and Patrick, which Bailee-Ann overheard, where Beef swished around and berated Patrick for trying to change his faggy boyfriend, who was Beef himself.
“I have to call him,” I told Jason once we were in the car. “Can I use your phone?”
Jason looked at me like I was crazy. “No way.”
“But . . .” I floundered. If Beef was Patrick’s boyfriend . . . if Beef was gay, if all along he was gay and he didn’t tell anyone . . . what else was he hiding? I beat my thigh with my fist. “He knows who attacked Patrick. I just know it.”
“And what are you planning on saying to get him to tell you?” Jason said.
I hadn’t gotten that far, but I was beginning to see that it was going to be harder than just popping out with it all. According to the Kid, Beef had traded sex for drugs. That was one ugly, steaming pile of cow shit.
“He’s kept quiet for a reason, Cat. And he wants you quiet, too, or have you forgotten?”
My breaths were shallow. I didn’t want to think like that.
“He put