Vicious Rebel (82 Street Vandals #2) - Heather Long Page 0,6
He had to unlock three deadbolts to get the door open. It sounded heavy when he pulled it open.
“The guys are already looking for him.” Doc didn’t sound too concerned. “Knowing Freddie? He probably found a hookup and went home with a new pussy.”
Doc grimaced.
“Sorry…”
“It’s fine,” I said, waving off his apology. “Contrary to what the guys think, I’m not going to fall apart at the mention of a pussy, or a dick for that matter.” Doc had tattoos all down half his body to cover his scars. Did they go all the way down his leg? Did he pierce his dick too? Curiosity roused in me like a sleepy cat.
He chuckled, locking up before he led the way up a grayish white hallway. The antiseptic smell promised that despite the hints of peeling tile and cracked paint in the corners, the clinic was clean.
We passed open doors that revealed a couple of exam rooms. A third one revealed an office. The desk was neat, save for a stack of files on the corner and what looked like bobbleheads lined along the front of it, not that I got a lot of time to look. Doc guided me to a set of stairs and up.
There was a sitting room of sorts up here, or more like a living room. There were a couple of arcade games, bean bags, books, and a big television with a couple of video game consoles. The room seemed to take up the length and breadth of the clinic below, and there was a divided off area with a little kitchenette.
That was where Doc headed. He filled the coffeemaker with water and started a fresh pot. “You can make yourself comfortable here. There’s a little bathroom around the corner. It’s Monday, so the teens that use this won’t be here until after school. If you haven’t made a choice by then, I can run you back to my place or you can settle in my office. That won’t have the entertainment that this has.”
I set my coffee cup down on a table and glanced around. Arms folded, I turned in a little circle. Posters decorated most of the walls, but there was another mural. This one was all video game characters battling across different platforms.
More of Rome’s work?
Was there anything he couldn’t do?
The bean bags were a mishmash of darker primary colors. The carpet was the same. One could almost imagine if it were brighter colors, this wouldn’t look out of place in a kindergarten class, but it didn’t feel like a little kid’s place. It felt…lived in, open, and welcoming. The posters ranged from music to movies, some of them were older. There was even a…
“That’s a poster of me.” I stared at the one in the corner.
Doc glanced up from the kitchen at my whispered words, and the shock on his face wasn’t imagined. The poster was from one of my first shows. I wasn’t even prominent in it, but I was there. I was the kid in the circle dangling from the ceiling.
I’d been eight.
It was my first tour.
“That’s you?” Doc asked as he joined me, his voice rough. “Which one?”
When I pointed to me in the circle, he blew out a ragged breath. When he glanced at me, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“Mickey?”
“It’s okay,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he had earlier. Gone was the cool assurance, and in its place was a guarded fear. Maybe not fear, but definitely disturbance. “It really is okay, Little Bit. I should have put it together. And I was at that show.” He said, indicating the poster. “Everything in here is something one of us has been to.”
He’d been at that show?
I barely even remembered where we’d been performing, but it hadn’t been here. “Oh.”
A faint smile creased his lips. “Don’t worry about it, just take it easy. Watch some television and think about what you want to do. There’s not a phone up here, but there’s a hardline in my office. I can send someone to grab a new cell phone for you, if you’d rather…” He shot a look at his watch and rubbed my arm gently before he headed for the stairs. “I gotta get this place open, you’ll be fine here.”
Not waiting for my response, he vanished down the stairs. I stared after him for a moment, then glanced back at the poster.
He’d been at the show. That had been ten years earlier.