Seb’s Summer by K.C. Wells
Chapter Twenty-Two
August 1
“Got anythin’ planned for’t weekend?” Tim asked Seb as they left Langsford’s. Then he snorted. “Forget I asked. I prob’ly have a good idea.”
“Marcus is coming over later.” The offer was there if he wanted to join what remained of Marcus’s family for dinner, but Seb was feeling greedy.
He wanted Marcus all to himself.
“Not long left, yow’un.” Tim cackled. “I think it’ll be a while before you set foot in a boat again.” He patted Seb on the back. “See ya Monday.”
Seb nodded. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
He caught Tim’s raucous laughter as he walked away. “That don’t leave me many options.”
Seb strolled along Langsford Road, tired but happy. Marcus is coming. It had to have been at least eight or nine hours since Seb had last seen him. He had to wonder what Sandra and James made of Marcus’s new routine—the past week, Marcus had slept in his own bed once.
His phone vibrated in his jeans pocket, and Seb removed it, expecting to see Marcus’s name. When he saw it was Pete Michaud, he grinned.
“Hey, Pete. If you’re calling to invite me to Dueling Divas this month, I’m gonna have to decline.”
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you at Maine Street in weeks. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Seb filled him in on the events that had brought him to Cape Porpoise.
“Bummer. Although I’m kinda relieved to hear you’re all right.”
“Aw, how sweet. You were worried.” Seb cackled. “Do you make a habit of calling up clientele you haven’t seen for a while?”
There was silence for a moment. “You haven’t heard, have you?”
Seb’s skin prickled. “Heard what?”
“About Justin.”
Seb came to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. “Christ, what’s he done now?” When there was no response, cold trickled through him, despite the sun’s warmth. “Pete? What is it?”
“He’s dead, Seb.”
The cold turned into an icy sludge around Seb’s heart. “When? What happened?”
“Mark Pelletier called me this morning. He said there was a party last night, and Justin was there, along with six or seven friends. They were all enjoying some naked fun, and Justin went to a bedroom to put his head down. Three hours later, someone decided they should check on him. Mark said he’d looked in on Justin before, and he’d been snoring. Only, when they found him, they couldn’t wake him up. Mark’s pretty cut up about it. We’ve all told him it wasn’t his fault.”
Oh, Justin. Seb’s heart sank. “What had he taken?” Knowing Justin’s habits, it was the only logical question.
“They think he mixed G and booze.”
“Aw, fuck. And no one noticed him doing that? No one said anything?”
“Hey, they were all busy taking care of themselves. And besides, what did I say, dude? They thought he was asleep!” Seb could hear the pain in Pete’s voice. He got that: everyone had liked Justin, including Seb.
He sighed. “Thanks for letting me know. Although it’s not exactly a surprise, is it? We know what he was like. It was only a matter of time.” As far as Seb was concerned, anyone who did drugs was asking for trouble, not that some of the guys he’d hooked up with would have agreed with him.
“There isn’t a date yet for the funeral. I’ll let you know if I hear something.”
“Thanks, Pete.” He disconnected and pocketed his phone, his heart heavy. It felt wrong to be standing in the sunshine, hearing happy voices raised as tourists went about their lives, and somewhere Justin was lying beneath a sheet or sealed in a body bag. How old was he? Thirty-five? Christ, that was no age. Seb resumed his walk, his feet as heavy as his heart.
When he reached the house, Marcus’s car was outside, and the sight lifted his spirits. Seb let himself into the house, to find Marcus making sandwiches in the kitchen.
He glanced across at Seb, and his face lit up. “Hey, nice timing. Lunch is ready. And before you ask, no, I haven’t been here since you left. I got back half an hour ago.” Marcus gestured to the plates. “Chicken salad sandwiches, and yes, I added garlic mayo, just for you—” He froze, his brow furrowed. “Hey. Are you okay? You look awful.”
Seb was suddenly bone-tired. “I feel awful. Just had a call from the bartender at my regular bar. A guy we know is dead.”
“I’m so sorry.” Marcus was at his side in an instant, his hands on Seb’s upper arms. “Were you close?”
“He was always at Maine Street in Ogunquit. We hooked up, ages ago, and we stayed friends.” Marcus’s arms enfolded him, and Seb leaned on him, bereft of energy. He could still see Justin, his muscles, his handsome face, his smile…
“Sorry, baby,” Marcus whispered, his cheek pressed to Seb’s. He guided Seb to the couch, and sat, patting the seat cushion beside him. Seb joined him, feeling hollow and worn out.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone I know die before,” he muttered.
“The feeling never improves, I can tell you that.” Marcus stroked his hair. “How did he die?”
“A combination of G and booze, by the sound of it.” Seb sagged against the seat cushion. “I’m assuming you know what G is. GHB, right? Although nowadays you’d have to live in a cave not to know what it is.”
Oh shit. Another one.
Marcus stiffened. “Yeah, I know what it is. I also know you should never mix the two.”
Seb huffed. “Hey, if it hadn’t been that particular combination, the meth would’ve killed him at some point. In fact, if he hadn’t done meth, he’d probably have survived this. Because I’d be willing to bet he took enough of that to make himself vulnerable to G.”
Say nothing. Say nothing.
Except Marcus had come too far along this path to be silent.
“How do you know he did meth?”
Seb’s eyes were closed. “Because he offered some to me, when we hooked up. I told him I wasn’t interested. End of conversation.” A sigh fell from his lips. “There were others who were interested, however. They’re welcome to it.”
Marcus’s mouth had dried up. “How much alcohol did he drink in addition to the G?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much G did he use?”
Seb opened his eyes. “I don’t know that either. What is this, twenty questions? You planning on writing his obituary or something?” His face tightened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s still kinda raw.”
Marcus could have left it there, but his It’s-irresponsible-not-to-educate gene kicked in. “So you’ve no idea of the amounts involved, but you’re going to blame it on meth anyway.” It wouldn’t be the first time Marcus had heard that theory.
Seb gaped at him. “Oh, come on. We all know about meth, right? You go to the same kinda clubs that I do, so you know how it goes.”
Marcus took a deep breath. “Let me guess what you know. A guy has his first taste of meth, and that’s it, he’s an addict. He’ll steal to fund his habit. He’ll even sell himself. It’ll ruin not only his life, but the lives of any family member or friends who don’t shake him off ASAP. He doesn’t sleep. He’s obsessed with sex. He’s paranoid…” He arched his eyebrows. “Does that pretty much cover it?”
“I think you just about nailed it, yeah. Why the hell do you think drugs are such a big deal? Because they ruin lives, that’s why. That’s why schools run programs to educate kids, so that they don’t slide down that slippery slope and become addicts. And it’s a losing battle.”
Marcus nodded slowly. “Okay, Teacher, you want to talk about education? School is in session, and it’s Meth 101. Whatever you think you know? It’s all bullshit. Not some of its effects, I’ll grant you, but everyone becoming an instant addict? Total crap. You can be a functional user too. I’ll agree that, for some, that first taste can be their downfall. Unfortunately, the only way to find out which of those two you are is to try it.” He held up his hands. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not advocating that you rush out and try it. I’m merely pointing out that what you think you know? Might not be the whole story. And if you want to know more, then do some research. And I don’t mean Dr. Google. Look up Carl Hart, for one thing. He makes more sense than most of what you’ll find online.” Christ. He was a mess.
Seb lifted his chin, his eyes narrowed in confusion.
Marcus sat back, his arms folded. “Ask me. There’s a question right there on the tip of your tongue that you’re dying to ask, so ask it.” His heart hammered, and his breathing quickened.
Seb swallowed. “Have you ever used meth?”
Crunch time. “Yes.”
Fuck, Seb was so still. “More than once?”
He sucked in a breath. “Yes.”
“Have you used it since you came to Cape Porpoise?” The cautious way he asked tore at Marcus’s heart.
“No.” Marcus tilted his head to one side. “Except now you’re not sure you can believe that. Am I right?”
Seb’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re asking me to go against something I’m sure is true. I… I don’t know what to say to you.”
“There’s nothing to say, not if you’ve already formed your opinion. If you want to continue with the All-meth-users-are-addicts-who-would-sell-their-own-grandmothers-to-fund-their-habit argument, then we really do have nothing to talk about.” He got to his feet. “So… to save us both from awkward silences, I’ll go.” He sighed. “I know why you think the way you do. If my best friend’s mom had succumbed to drugs, I think I’d probably feel the same. But you’re speaking from limited experience. I, on the other hand, know whereof I speak.” He grabbed his car keys from the table. “If you want to ignore everything you’ve heard from people who’ve never used it, are never likely to use it, and yet somehow know all there is to know on the subject, then you know where to find me.”
“You… you’re going?”
Marcus managed a shrug. “I’ve said enough. How does the saying go? ‘A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still’? You’ve got my number. If I get a call, great. If I don’t?” He swallowed. “I’ll understand. I won’t like it, but I’ll understand. It’s hard to swim against the tide of popular opinion.” Marcus walked toward the door.
“Marcus…” He came to a halt and turned. Seb’s face was uncharacteristically pale. “Jesus, Marcus, that’s it? You’re gonna leave it like this?”
He bit his lip. “The funny thing is? If we’d had this conversation weeks ago, I’d have just walked out without saying any of this. But not now.”
Seb’s brow furrowed. “Why? What’s different?”
Marcus speared him with an intense stare. “Tell me you don’t feel we have something.”
Another swallow. “I… I can’t tell you that.”
He nodded. “So it’s not just me. Which makes it doubly hard to walk away. Because there’s always the chance that it could be for the last time, and God knows, I really don’t want to lose you.” Marcus looked him in the eye. “But if you can’t trust me, can’t believe what I tell you… then we don’t have a future anyway.” And with that, he was out of there, walking—no, running—to his car, his heartbeat racing, his stomach like a rock as he fought the urge to throw up on Gary’s meager excuse for a front yard.
What the fuck have I done?
It felt as though time had slowed down.
Seb stared at the door, cold spreading out from his core, his head spinning.
What the fuck?
He sagged weakly against the cushions, replaying Marcus’s words over and over in his head.
I can’t deal with this. Not on my own.
He reached for his phone and speed-dialed Levi. The instant the call connected, Seb surged ahead. “Hey, you got a minute? I really need to talk.”
“Give me a sec, I’ve just made Grammy some lunch. Let me take it to her, and then I’m all yours.”
Seb forced himself to take deep breaths while he waited, his stomach churning.
“Okay. What’s up?”
Where the fuck do I begin? “I just found out something about Marcus, and… I’m having a hard time getting my head around it.” Understatement of the fucking decade.
“Can’t be that bad.”
“Oh yeah? Try this on for size. He’s used meth. Past tense, because he says he isn’t using now, but who the fuck knows?”
The sudden silence brought about a rash of goose bumps.
“Okay, I’m only going to say this once.” Christ, Levi’s voice was so quiet. “Don’t walk away from that man—run. As fast as you can.”
Therein lay the problem. Seb didn’t want to walk away. “Look, I know why you say that, but—”
“But nothing. How many stories do you need to hear about another gay guy dying of a meth overdose? There was a case earlier this year, some guy on a gay cruise.” There was a pause. “He didn’t offer it to you, did he?”
“No, he didn’t, and this is the first time he’s mentioned it, okay? I thought I knew him but now? I don’t know what to think.”
Another pause. “Christ… You… you’re in love with him.”
“Yuh. And here’s a newsflash for ya. He’s in love with me—I think. Not that either of us has come right out and said it, but yeah…”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Right now I have no fucking clue, except for trying to survive this without getting my heart broken. And that’s looking pretty fucking inevitable.”
“Look, you know what I think. I’m here if you want to talk, okay? And yeah, I know my viewpoint is biased, but there are no gray areas where drugs are concerned. Do the research. You’ll see I’m right.” He paused. “But I am sorry, Seb.”
“You and me both.” Seb disconnected, then tossed his phone onto the couch beside him. He closed his eyes.
Were there any clues?
He racked his brain, bringing to mind any guys he knew for certain took meth. Sometimes they appeared not to have slept for three or four days, and sex became an obsession. Seb had been at one party where a few of the guys had slammed meth, and he’d watched them start their ‘rush’: there was a telltale flush, and he could almost see their hearts race, before they started pulling their clothes off and turning to anything sexual they could reach. There had been other parties too, where guys under the influence had sat around, everyone on their phones going through the hookup apps, searching for other men who might actually be able to get a boner going, and wanking their not-hard cocks for hours.
There was nothing hot about that at all in Seb’s book, and he hadn’t seen any of that with Marcus. Sure, he was horny as fuck most of the time, but then, so was Seb. That was why they were so fucking perfect for each other.
Maybe Levi hit on something. There had to be a whole lot of information out there on the subject, right? Something other than the ‘Don’t Do Drugs’ message. Except he was pretty sure that was the message Levi intended for him to see.
Marcus said I don’t know the whole story. So maybe I’d better go looking for answers. It was a better prospect than sitting there feeling sorry for himself. Then he thought about Marcus, and despite Seb’s misgivings, his heart went out to him.
I hope he’s okay.
