Pulp Friction: Atlanta

Crucify Chapter 1

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..."

"Yeah, I'm familiar with the ritual—even if I did drop out as soon as I confirmed I liked boys. So, if you have a priest to forgive your sins, what do you need me for?" I wasn't particularly excited to be meeting with this not-so-happy hooker even if we were in one of my favorite places on the planet. The back booth of the Chances Are...Wick's booth. That thought brought a smile despite my reluctance to meet with this young man.

Before the discussion could continue, Chance himself strolled up to the table, the recently promoted Gerry trailing close behind carrying a tray of burgers. Half a pound of prime beef, grilled onions, mushrooms, and Worcestershire sauce on a toasted sourdough bun—mine served bloody enough to moo. I smiled when I saw he'd remembered the onion rings, instead of fries.

Gerry set my basket down first, leading with his right shoulder, and flashing a broad grin. The man had always grated on my nerves, but obviously Chance had forgiven his felonious transgressions, so maybe it was time for me to give the man another chance. "Hey, Gerry, congrats on the promotion," I said. "I almost missed the new title on your nametag." Next to me, Jeremiah smothered a laugh and under the table I gave his thigh a playful squeeze.

Chance rolled his eyes and slid into the opposite side of the booth to face me. "Don't encourage him."

"Hi, Zack. Bringing some new friends..." Gerry's eyes widened when he set the food in front of the potential new client. The basket landed on the table with a thud, and a slow flush crawled up Gerry's neck. He spun away without another word. Chance's eyes narrowed as he watched his new manager walk away, then he turned back to the table, curiosity all over his face.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of taking on another pet? You and Archer should declare yourselves a tax-exempt shelter for all the strays."

I barked a laugh. "Yeah, well, only Jeremiah is mine. Chance, this here is Nick Gabriel. He's friends with Jeremiah and Ben."

Chance stuck his hand out, forcing Nick to put his burger back on his plate, untasted. Frowning slightly, Chance said, "I know you." He held on to Nick's hand when the younger man tried to pull back. "You're a...friend of Gerry's, right? You were the one who found the body in the bathroom, a couple of months back?"

"Y-yes."

"Why'd you rabbit? Not that I blame you—just curious."

"I...I'm not exactly..." Nick squirmed, then looked away.

"Nick's a former co-worker of Ben's," I explained. "I think the clientele he...works with...call him Gabe. In fact, I believe Nick here might be the one who got Ben started working in his former career. Is that right, Gabe? I mean, Nick?"

"Zack." Jeremiah's voice was soft, his gaze was steady. "Maybe we can take a break on the editorial comments until you hear Nick's story, okay?"

"Ahh..." Chance released Nick's hand, and our gazes locked for a long minute. "So, Zack...how's Archer?"

I grinned around a bite of burger. He might as well have asked about the weather, but I'd play along.

"Archer's good, as always. But I really want to know how things are going with Rory. You've had him back, what? A week? Two? He looked a little tired when you brought him by the house for Cannon's party—is Rory okay?"

There was a long pause, then Chance glanced at the other two men before focusing once again on me. "Rory and I are good. Just fine."

I pretended not to notice that his tone sounded a little defensive—like maybe he needed to convince himself more than me. We spent a few more minutes talking about Wick, his mini-me Kyle, and all the rest of our friends while we finished our burgers, then Chance excused himself, and we got back around to the business at hand.