Page 22 of Simply Perfection
“Thanks son, you’re a good seed.”
Trevor shrugged as the doors opened. “I’m just me.”
Trevor made his way over to Dorchester Avenue from the rail line. Another twelve-block walk to his apartment, and it was hot shower and veggie time for him. As he passed the Adams split, he wondered if Niall and Matt were awake yet. Had they found his note, or were they having a slow morning fuck together? Matt seemed to have a bit of a dominant streak from what Trevor had gathered the previous evening. That was hot. Trevor loved a big man in charge in the bedroom. Whips and chains were not for him, but a firm voice and commanding presence, and it was on like Donkey Kong. Outside the bedroom, Trevor was his own man, if perhaps sometimes overly sensitive to others’ guidance. Okay—if Logan and Clay were to be believed,alwaysover-sensitive to others’ guidance, even when offered with the best of intentions. Now, Niall seemed more like a laid-back kind of man. Passionate, sensual and very in tune with his surroundings and thoughts. Last night when Niall had fucked Trevor, there hadbeen power behind each thrust, and when Niall had sucked him as Matt took his turn with Trevor’s ass, the gentle hungry pulls of Niall’s mouth had brought Trevor to the edge faster than he’d thought possible at this point in his life. Decrepit Trevor was not, but neither was he eighteen any longer.
Trevor made his way up the outside stairs to his door. When he turned the corner, Trevor froze. He covered his nose and tried to breathe through his mouth, but his stomach still threatened to spew its lining. Lying right outside his front door was a dead dog. Not just dead, but eviscerated.
What the fuck!
Who or what would do that to a dog? It looked a lot like the neighbor’s dachshund.
“Oh Mindy! What happened to you?”
Trevor ran down the steps and across the alley to the house next door. He banged on the front door until it was opened by the diminutive old man who lived inside.
“Trevor? What’s wrong, son?”
“Mr. Carlyle. Is Mindy home? Please tell me Mindy is inside,” he pleaded.
“Have you found her! Did you find my little baby? She’s been missing since last night. I’m so worried about her. I let her out to do her business, and she disappeared. I guess the gate somehow got opened and—”
“Mr. Carlyle. I … I think Mindy … oh, god … I’m so sorry!”
“Trevor, calm down.”
Trevor took a couple of cleansing breaths. “I think I know where Mindy is, but it’s not good. I … I don’t know what happened, or how she—”
Mr. Carlyle’s eyes swam with tears. “Where?”
“My front landing. I wasn’t home last night, and just found her.”
He sighed and took a step out the front door. “Let’s go take care of her, then.”
“No!” Trevor put a hand out to stop Mr. Carlyle’s progress. “Please, you don’t want to see her like that. Something … not right happened. I’ll take care of it. I’ll bring her to you for burial. Give me a little while to take care of things and … and stay inside. I’ll treat her right, I promise.”
He nodded. “I’ll call her vet. They’ll take her.”
Trevor stepped away from the widower and headed back to his stairs. At the base, he squared his shoulders, then began the climb. When he reached the top, Trevor couldn’t even look at the remains of the sweet puppy. He pushed open the front door and walked back to his bedroom. He changed into the rattiest pair of old sweats he could find and a T-shirt left over from high school days. A pair of sneakers covered his feet. He dug underneath the sink in his bathroom for a pair of long rubber gloves, bleach, and a couple of trash bags. What should he use to scoop up Mindy? He didn’t own a shovel, no place to store it. That left his hands. Unpleasant didn’t begin to describe the coming process, but there was no alternative.
Trevor opened his front door, and a quick glance across the alley assured him that Mr. Carlyle wasn’t staring out the window. When Trevor looked down on the landing, his vision blurred at the sight of the sweet-hearted companion who’d kept Mr. Carlyle going after his wife passed a few years ago. The sadness erupted into rage as Trevor realized that this was no animal attack. Someone who could only be devoid of any human emotions killed methodically Mindy.
A small piece of paper fluttered in the winter air beneath the little skull and big floppy ears that had loved a good scratch in life. He lifted Mindy's head and unfolded the scrap.
This is what happens to pets that disobey their owners.
“Sick fuck!” Trevor grumbled under his breath. He had no idea why someone thought this kind of thing would be a good joke, but whoever they were had serious issues.
Trevor did his best to transfer Mindy into the trash bags with as little disturbance as possible. His stomach rolled, and Trevor was very glad he hadn’t had time to eat anything after leaving Niall’s. After Trevor enclosed all the remains in the bags, he placed Mindy on the step below. Blood had soaked into the wood of his landing, and Trevor uncapped the bleach, then poured the contents over the area. He scrubbed until his arms hurt and his nose burned from the chemical.
He placed the scrub brush, his gloves and the now empty plastic jug into another trash bag. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why someone would want to hurt Mr. Carlyle this way. The old man had a temperament that matched his faithful companion. Trevor had met him shortly after moving into the building. Mr. Carlyle had been trying to clear the snow from his driveway, and Trevor had volunteered to take over. The two became friends, and Trevor was glad to have a grandfather figure to dote on. A few months later, Mr. Carlyle had asked Trevor why he hadn’t settled down with a good girl yet, and Trevor had simply said he wasn’t looking for one. Whether Mr. Carlyle had assumed Trevor was straight and not looking or correctly made the connection to Trevor being gay was never clarified. Mr. Carlyle continued to be a friend and neighbor, and Trevor continued to do little chores for the old man when he could.
Trevor gathered up Mindy’s improvised coffin in his arms and carried the other bag down the steps. He disposed of the trash and walked across the alley. Mr. Carlyle opened the door as if he had been waiting for Trevor’s approach.
“I called her vet. They said to bring her over, and they would—” He swallowed roughly. “—handle everything. Would you mind coming with me? I don’t think—”
“Of course I’ll come with you. Do you want me to drive? I’ll warn you, it’s been awhile since I was behind the wheel, but I really don’t think you should drive right now.”
Mr. Carlyle smiled. “You couldn’t be worse than my grandson. Every time he picks me up for a family thing, I feel as though I see my life flash before my eyes. The only problem is he drives so fast there’s not enough time to get to the present.”
