is higher quality than what he usually sends.
“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.”
This is where I’d choose to end the conversation, but my cousin never can just let things be. Pace is an awkward motherfucker. Coming up on fifty, he’s a beach bum with nothing to his name except a lot of good intentions. I like Pace well enough—as kids, we called him Uncle Pace—but these phone chats can get tedious.
“You doing okay?” he asks after a silence.
I shut my eyes. “Fine.” The word is sharp.
“Really?” he asks.
Fucking Pace.
“Just checking, dude,” he says defensively. “Robert has been sniffing my ass crack, wanting to know if you’ve decided anything.”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Pace.”
“I know, but—”
“Fuck him,” I growl.
“You just... you can’t say that, man. Robert is—”
“Who do you work with, him or me?”
It’s a simple question with a complex answer. I’m not being fair to Pace. Not that I really give a fuck. He’s not being fair to me, either.
I hear him breathing. Biding time as he tries to figure out how to broach forbidden subjects. I hear the phone brush the scruff of his beard, followed by his low voice saying, “Whitney called him. She said she hasn’t been able to get up with you.”
Whitney. Of course.
My fingers rearrange themselves around my phone. “I haven’t noticed any missed calls from her,” I lie. Whitney has been calling weekly for three months.
“You’ve got everyone all stirred up,” Pace says in his low-but-nasally voice. “Man, I’m worried too. Don’t get all butt hurt, but we all have the same horse in the race. We’re a motherfucking family.” In a low voice, he says: “No one wants to see you wind up like Lyon.”
The mention of my brother makes my eyeballs ache. Pressure builds inside my head. I suck a deep breath back and clutch the phone. “Don’t go there, Pace. Ever. You have a problem with Robert, deal with it. He’s your burden—not mine.”
I hear a shuffling sound: Pace’s flip-flops on that little deck that hangs over the beach. He puffs some smoke out; I can hear his breath. “I just want to help you, man.”
“You can’t, so stop trying.”
I want to punch him in the teeth. I want to roar at him. I can’t believe he mentioned Ly. Instead, I say, “Till one-one, then.”
The shipment will arrive at the old toy warehouse on Fifty-First Street on the eleventh of September. That’s what he meant by “teddy bears” and his made-up drug trafficking code, “double nickel and a penny,” as code for the eleventh.
“Next week,” he says finally. He sounds defeated.
I still feel enraged.
I slide the phone into my pocket and stalk down to the basement. I tear into the punching bag that dangles from the ceiling, and imagine that it’s Pace’s pug-dog face. It turns into my father’s face, and then Ly’s. Which is almost indistinguishable from mine.
I’m tired of fighting. I’m so tired of fighting me.
I wait until the darkest part of night to go to Nessa’s house.
I’M UP BEFORE THE SUN, pacing the balcony outside the glass-walled room. Gulping chilly air into my lungs.
My knuckles are bruised from my assault on the punching bag. My body screams for sleep, because I stood outside Nessa’s window for three hours last night: a silent ghost, eviscerated. Now I’m drinking coffee—black and hot.
After a while outside, listening to the river slosh below, watching the pines tip in the breeze, I pull on some basketball shorts and go down to the basement. Fifty minutes on the treadmill, and it doesn’t tame my hunger. I do my weight routine for longer than my usual, making sure that by the time I’m done, all my muscles are shredded. Then I make myself two waffles and choke down every bite.
I wander back up to the room: her room. I take a small, black remote out of the night stand drawer and press the button that makes the middle part of the indented ceiling retract. I take the canopy off the bed and lower the harness down to the mattress. I caress the ropes and smooth the sheets and rub my cock as I imagine Cleo lying right here, her wrists and ankles bound to the four ends of my X-bar, her wet, pink pussy ripe and ready for me.
When I realize I’m going to stay hard until I see her, I sink down on the edge of the mattress and stroke myself off, remembering the way her pussy clenched around my cock on the