Page 18 of What I've Tasted of Desire

And when Alex gave the gift card to the police, they would trace it back to Tom. Unless he had paid in cash, which was likely, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. At the very least, I had ruined his night. Maybe his week if no one turned his wallet in.

Small victories…

I stopped the car in front of Alex’s room and made quick work of sliding the envelope underneath the door, so Alex would see it when he came to get his stuff. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I almost had a heart attack. Turning in right past me was a white construction truck driven by Mike Jensen, one of the younger guys on the crew of the Westing House project, with Alex sitting right next to him.

That was fast. I threw up a silent prayer they hadn’t turned in 30 seconds sooner, trying to quell the rising anxiety of the close call.

If he had seen you slipping that under his door, it would have blown the whole thing! Idiot!

I drove down the street and parked in the lot of a laundromat to wait for them to leave. Mike was from Alabama and had moved to the city a year or so back. He was 21, and well on his way to becoming an alcoholic. He stopped at the bar and tossed back three or four beers almost every night I was trailing him. I wasn’t a huge fan of Alex driving around with him. He tended to smile a lot at Alex. I’d seen more than one longing stare on the lawn as Alex walked by.

I doubt Alex had even noticed. Until very recently, he’d still been consumed with losing Tom. I was hoping to get in quickly and nip that in the bud. Alex didn’t need the drama of loving an alcoholic. It always ended in heartbreak. Besides, I would be with him soon enough.

I was beginning to wonder if Alex had shown Mike the note, or if he’d seen it when Alex opened the door. I wondered if Alex would tell him about the other note and the gloves, or if Alex would try to sweep it under the rug again, thinking it was Tom fucking around?

I didn’t have long to wonder as I watched the truck pull out of the motel. Once there was some distance between us, I pulled out of the lot I was waiting in. I was unsure of exactly where he was taking Alex as they passed the turn for Westing House.

A few miles down, the truck turned into the mall.

“You’re taking him to the mall?” I asked in disbelief.

By the time I got through the intersection and into the parking lot, I saw Alex walking into the main entrance. The place was a madhouse. There was no way I was gonna be able to find a parking spot and get inside before losing him. The mall was huge, and he could be going in and out of multiple different stores.

“Fuck!”

Scanning the rows, I found Mike leaning up against the side of his truck smoking a cigarette.

“You couldn’t be bothered to walk him inside?” I wished I could yell it in his stupid face. “He hates shopping.”

I sighed, the realization that no one would ever be able to care for him the way I could rolling over me once again. I found a spot in the next row to keep an eye on the truck and wait for Alex’s return.

Thirty minutes later, Alex came walking out of the mall carrying a large plastic bag hanging on one arm and two pillows squeezed under his other.

“Ahh, that makes sense, now.” I know his bed had been delivered a few days ago. I never even thought about him needing bedding. I hoped he was able to find something that kept him warm and made him comfortable. The pillows looked nice. Thick and fluffy. Maybe I'd get to lay on one of them sometime soon.

I pulled out of the mall three cars behind Mike’s truck and followed them back to Westing House.

Chapter Ten

I took one last look at myself in the mirror as I straightened the Emberford Fire Department standard issue jacket. I grabbed the hand towel off the hanger by the sink and dabbed at the sweat pooling around my hairline.

“Relax, it’s going to be fine,” I whispered. “He’s gonna like you.”

I had waited years for this moment. I’d come close to revealing myself to him so many times, but it had never worked out. There was no turning back now—everything was in place. I walked into the garage and clicked the fob in my hand, making the Toyota Highlander’s headlights flash and the alarm chirp. It was black, with black leather interior. It was brand new, and I’d only driven it from the dealership straight to the garage.

I wanted there to be no chance he’d ever seen my car before. I kept the other one as well. I’d parked it in a storage unit a few miles away in case I needed it again. I picked up the four industrial fire extinguishers from the corner of the garage and loaded them into the back.

The order had called for six extinguishers total, but I had purposely only gotten four off Amazon. I knew I couldn't validate a certificate, so the plan was to show up with the incorrect amount and tell Alex more were on their way, and that the office was constantly messing things up. Then, when the real firefighters came in to drop off the extinguishers they’d actually ordered, Alex would simply tell them they only needed two more, and the fire department would believe it was a simple bureaucratic misunderstanding. They’d install the final two and be grateful to have only done a quarter of the work on the order.

That’s what I was hoping, anyway. I really had no choice—the firefighter thing was just too perfect. Like I said, it was the subtle and exquisite hand of Fate giving me the opportunity of a lifetime. I wanted to be everything Alex had ever desired. He fantasized about a hunky fireman, and, by God, I was gonna give him one.

I looked over the altered work-order I’d printed out about the placement of the extinguishers in Westing House. Satisfied with my work, I tossed the clipboard in the passenger’s seat and opened the garage door. I could feel my heart throbbing in my throat like it was something I would choke on. My pulse felt thready, and my breathing was shallow. Were these the physical manifestations of desire? Did true lovehurt?

There was only one way to find out.

Here we go…

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