Page 36 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

They got up and slipped beneath the covers. Marc turned his back so Jason could spoon in behind. Despite the turmoil and confusion in his mind, Marc fell asleep within minutes.

Chapter Fourteen

The Hustler

Tyrone Lucas answered the door in a pair of grubby grey sweatpants which hung low enough to expose his hip bones. Jason knew from his videos that Tyrone was shorter than the models he had worked with, but he was not prepared to tower over him so much. The pasty skin, dark hair and sharp features were as expected, but Tyrone was a lot more rodent-like in person and his skin was in poor condition, with black shadows beneath his eyes, broken veins around his nose and across his cheeks and dry, broken lips. The overpowering pong of cannabis wafted from the apartment.

“Hi,” Jason said, holding forth his ID.

Tyrone sucked his teeth and leaned against the door frame. “Have you got the money?”

Jason gave him two twenties and a ten. “Half,” he said. “You’ll get the rest after we’ve talked.”

Contempt flowed from the younger man in waves, then with a tut, he snatched the cash and opened the door wider. Jason stepped inside. Tyrone’s sweatpantsdrooped from his flat backside, exposing a good two inches of butt crack.

The bedsit was tiny, with a kitchen area in one corner and a tattered sofa pulled close to a TV and gaming console. The surfaces were littered with dirty dishes and mugs, pizza and takeaway cartons, empty bottles and full ashtrays. The whole place stunk of weed, body odour and damp.

Jason was more surprised at the other side of the room. The bed and surrounding space were immaculate, with crisp white sheets and freshly painted walls. There was a phone on a tripod facing the bed and a bright selfie circle light. A second, traditional video camera stood on a tripod at a different angle. It was obviously where the magic happened.

Jason noticed the lights were switched on.

“Are you filming?” he asked.

“About to,” Tyrone said, scratching his crotch. His famously huge dick waggled in his pants. “Till you turned up.”

“On your own?”

“What does it look like, mate? Unless you wanna bend over and take it, there’s no other fucker here.” He gave his cock a squeeze to emphasise the point.

“I’ll pass on that. This won’t take long if you tell me what I want to know.”

Tyrone grimaced, then stepped over a pile of dirty plates to drop onto the sofa. Jason wondered whether Tyrone’s subscribers had any idea of what was on the other side of the camera. It would destroy any erotic delusion.

Jason was about to take a seat but thought better of it when a mouse scurried across the floor to disappear beneath an upturned pizza box.

Tyrone retrieved a half-smoked joint from an ashtray and lit it. “Come on. Time is fucking money. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know about Theo Glass. You might have known him as Hart Stone.”

Tyrone held the smoke deep in his lungs and exhaled slowly, deliberately taking his time. Testing Jason. He didn’t respond.

“I know who the fucker was. I don’t know what you expect me to tell you, other than he was a thieving cunt.”

“You didn’t like him?”

“Couldn’t have given half a shit about him either way. He was the one who contacted me after seeing my content. He said we could make a video together. I didn’t fancy him, but that doesn’t matter when there’s money involved. I’ve fucked a lot worse.”

“Did he make all the arrangements?”

“He booked that poncy hotel, if that’s what you mean.”

“Which hotel was it?”

“The Vermont.” He took another hit on the joint.

Jason had suspected as much. It put a tragic taint on the incredible time he had spent with Marc there last night.

“What else?”

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