29. For Advertising Purposes

K ellen frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” And right after he asked the question, for a second or two, the thought left him feeling suspended from a single thread: What does that mean?

A small, faltering breath escaped Alexei’s chest. His face lowered. “Never mind. I have something for you.” He gestured to the corner sofa. “Sit down.”

Still frowning, Kellen stepped slowly over to the sofa. He pressed a hand to the cushion, then cautiously sat down.

Alexei walked over to the bookshelf and retrieved a small wooden box from the top shelf. He walked to the sofa and sat down, a few feet between himself and Kellen. “I had one of my dancers get this from the file room,” he said quietly. “We don’t…We don’t take many pictures here, for…obvious reasons. But there’s one picture that all the dancers get taken when they first start at the club. It’s used for advertising purposes. I—I—god, I wish I had something better for you to see, but it’s the only photo I know of.” His hands were trembling as he held the box out to Kellen.

Kellen’s heart had started pounding slowly in his chest. The box looked like it was made of light pinewood. But it had weight to it, like something more than a photo was inside. Wordlessly, Kellen gripped the square lid and lifted it off.

A photo. Full color on glossy photo paper. The name “Blue” written in silver sharpie at the top corner. And in the image, stood a teenage girl with ebony black hair and sapphire eyes. Model-like. Her sharp, feminine features and fearless stare.

Scanty clothing. Makeup.

Kellen’s hand lifted to his face, stiffly swept his lips. Those eyes. That facial structure. The resemblance left his mind reeling. He would’ve recognized her. He would’ve recognized her anywhere, despite her weak reminiscence of the child he remembered. She had Lila’s stare: firm, piercing, eagle-eyed blue. And a softer version of his own facial features. High cheekbones, a small dimple in the chin, well-defined jawline. The whimsical loose-curl texture of her dark hair that had been the same since she was a baby.

She was beautiful.

“She’s fifteen here?” Kellen’s voice caught in his throat, and only when he heard the sound did he become aware of the hot moisture building in his eyes. He brushed his hand past his nose and swallowed.

“Yes,” Alexei whispered.

“That’s so…so young,” Kellen breathed. He exhaled. Slipped a finger under the photopaper and lifted it out of the box.

His heart felt like it entirely stopped in his chest when he saw what lay beneath it.

A clear plastic bag full of sand-colored powder.

A liquid drop hit the protective plastic right as the tip of Kellen’s finger contacted it. He couldn’t breathe. Everything in his chest was frozen, immobilized. “These are…” His voice was constricted, airless. “Her ashes?”

“Most of them,” Alexei whispered. He moved, his hand lifting to his neck. He raised the pendant on his necklace.

Kellen glanced at it. He brushed a hand across his eyes, then replaced the photo and closed the box. “Can I keep this?”

“Yes.”

Silence. Silence so still, it was like the rest of the world had gone dead. Kellen wiped his eyes again. Blinked and took a slow breath.

Alexei moved again. “Can I ask you something?”

Kellen’s forehead settled into his hand, eyes pinned dully on the wooden box. “Yeah.”

“Who…” Alexei’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment. He shifted. “Who were you thinking of when you kissed me back there?”

Kellen’s brow furrowed. For a second or two, irritation clouded his mind. The uselessness of that question. The fact that it wasn’t any of Alexei’s business. That it entirely didn’t matter. And then, Kellen’s pulse picked up. An image came back to him, something that stung raw with guilt. Brown eyes. He had imagined Alexei had brown eyes. And a situation that didn’t exist.

Kellen’s hand swept his forehead and pressed back the loose locks at the front of his hair. “I—I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you fuck me last night at your motel room?”

That question felt out of nowhere. For a stinging succession of seconds, absolutely no explanation came to Kellen’s mind. He stared blankly at the boy on the sofa beside him, speechless. I don’t have to fucking answer that. Then, abruptly, he looked down at the box in his hands. “I don’t know what your motives are.”

“What?” Alexei’s lips parted slowly on the word. Hesitant. Then, “What—What do you mean, ‘motives’?”

“We have a professional relationship,” Kellen responded.

“So, if we didn’t have a ‘professional’ relationship, you would’ve slept with me?”

Kellen’s eyes shot up again. “No.”

“No? Then what else?”

Kellen’s lips pressed. He was aware, dimly aware, that his heart was racing again.

“I get tested every thirty days like the rest of the dancers. I’m clean. I have paperwork to prove it.”

“Good…That’s…good for you,” Kellen murmured. Drugs, clean? STDs, clean? Both? It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter.

“So that’s not what’s bothering you.”

Kellen didn’t answer.

“Is it because I knew her…? You…You hold me responsible for―”

“No, Alexei.”

“Then…”

“Do you always drink on the job, or just this time, because you knew I would be here and what you would have to do?”

Alexei swallowed. The back of his hand lifted slowly to his lips. He breathed against it, testing the scent of his own breath. “I’m not drunk,” he whispered. Then, “I—I wouldn’t have to be drunk to kiss you.”

Fuck. Kellen’s eyes lowered away. He’s so fucking confusing.

“ Did you…take some kind of celibacy vow?”

“What?” Kellen frowned, vision darting upward. “No. What the fuck.” He stood up, the box gripped in his hand.

“I feel the way your body reacts to mine,” Alexei said quickly. “What other reason do you have? You said you’re divorced, you’re―”

“How old are you?” Kellen shot suddenly.

Silence. Alexei passed the tip of his tongue across his lips. “How old do you think I am?”

“Half my age,” Kellen responded immediately.

“I’m definitely older than half your age.” More silence.

“Then tell me how old you are.”

“You’re that afraid of an age gap?”

“Please stop.” Kellen’s voice fell to a whisper. “You’re closer in age to my daughter than you are to me.”

A weak smile touched Alexei’s lips. He turned away. The conversation was over. Silence claimed the room again.

“What’s next, Alexei?” Kellen spoke up.

Alexei moved, stood slowly from the sofa and walked over to a cabinet by the opposite wall. He opened one of the higher doors and silently removed an unlabeled pill bottle. “You wanted to know who the surgeon is.” He cracked the bottle open and shook two pills out into the palm of his hand. “I don’t know who the surgeon is. I think the person who is falsifying the donor evaluations is more important. Turns out, I don’t know that either.” His hand moved, raising the two pills toward his lips.

“What the hell are you taking?” Kellen took an involuntary step forward.

Alexei’s hand froze for a second. “Just pain meds.” He popped the two pills and swallowed them dry. “I did get the operating room info for a transplant, though. So I figure you and your friends can use that to get information about donor evaluation.”

“What kind of pain meds?” Kellen watched, frozen, as Alexei re-capped the pill bottle and put it back in the cabinet.

Alexei shrugged. “Just pain meds.” He was quiet for a moment. “They’re not opioids or anything. They’re really just for pain. Everyone takes them. They’re probably some kind of cheap over-the-counter thing. There aren’t any side effects, and they’re not addictive.”

“If they’re over-the-counter, why aren’t they in a labeled bottle?” Kellen asked stiffly. “You don’t even know what they are?”

“I’ve used these my whole life, okay?” Alexei smiled like he was amused. He reached the bottle back down and held it out to Kellen. “The club owner keeps them stocked for free. They’re harmless. They just help with headaches and muscle aches and other random pain.”

Kellen took the bottle. He uncapped it and looked inside. Wordlessly, he removed a single pill. There were numbers engraved on the side of the tablet.

That didn’t necessarily mean anything.

The lid replaced itself on the bottle, and Kellen handed it back. He slipped the single pill into his pocket. “What’s the operating room info?”

And right as he spoke, there was a low knock on the door. Two seconds of frozen quiet passed. Then a voice: “Eros, you in there?” The bartender’s voice.

Alexei seized Kellen’s wrist and pulled him toward the hallway. He opened the first door he came to and pushed Kellen inside. “Wait, why are you hiding me?” Kellen asked quickly. “I thought the whole purpose of the thing back there―” The door shut in his face.

There were footsteps. Alexei’s soft steps back into the living room and up to the apartment door. Then, the sound of the door opening.

“Is your boy toy in here?” The bartender’s voice. There was a moment of silence while she probably looked around. “Fuck’s sake, Eros.” The sound of the door shutting behind her was brief and sharp. “Who the hell is that guy? Why are you suddenly seeing someone?”

“Who’s watching the bar right now?” Alexei’s voice had changed. It had morphed back into the club manager, the ringleader, the one who had shot a man’s wrists out on the club floor.

“Firefly has it handled. Spill.”

“Spill what?”

“Who the hell is that guy? Is this another episode of ‘Eros Grieving Without Just Fucking Grieving’?”

Silence. Then, “What the fuck would me seeing someone have to do with grieving?”

Kellen was standing in the darkened space of a child’s room, he realized. There was a small, pink-spread bed by the wall. A shelf full of stuffed animals. A rainbow-colored hammock mounted to a freestanding fixture. A child’s desk scattered with crayons. A nightlight plugged into a wall outlet, dimly illuminating the space. This was where June lived.

“You haven’t been the same, Eros. And fine, go fuck around. Do what you want. But seeing one person like this? That’s fucking dangerous. You don’t know who this guy really is or what the fuck he really wants. And you cannot go weak for an outsider.”

“You’re concerned about me. That’s sweet. I’m fine, Shelia. Go back to your station.”

“Do you think I don’t know that you were threatening Swan that you would kill yourself?”

Kellen’s eyes stopped searching the room and darted back to the door.

“Yeah. I know.” Her voice had become hushed, barely audible. “That’s half the reason I’m back here. To keep an eye on you. And then you’re gifted June on top of that. Because he’s fucking generous.”

“He’s very generous.” Almost a whisper.

“And while we’re on that topic, fucking stop sheltering June like she’s some kind of fragile butterfly. It’s annoying the shit out of everyone. She’s gonna see adult shit, Eros, just like you did when you were a kid. And she’s gonna be fine. She’s got a hell of a lot more privilege than you did at her age. If she’s anything like Blue, she won’t even take her first john until she wants to.”

Kellen’s heart froze in his chest. Moving like his limbs had turned to ice, he stepped closer to the door.

“You didn’t get that kind of princess treatment. Neither did I. That girl has a job , Eros, she should be doing it.” The bartender stopped talking, and silence fell.

“I’ll do what I want with her,” Alexei spoke finally.

“You always do what you want,” the bartender snapped back.

The sound of the apartment door opening came again—then shutting. There was quiet for several seconds. Then, Alexei’s soft footsteps.

The door in front of Kellen opened. “I’ll meet you in the morning to give you the operating room info,” Alexei spoke quietly. He reached around Kellen and flipped a light switch.

Yellow light flooded the child’s room.

“Who the fuck is Swan?” Kellen asked quickly.

Alexei gave him a blank look. “Jay―”

“Fine. What is June’s job?”

Alexei’s lips pressed for a moment. He moved silently out of the doorway. “The same as Blue’s was. To help me live my life without being able to see.”

Kellen’s brow furrowed. He watched the motionless figure standing in the hallway for a long moment. “Have you been blind your whole life?”

For a long moment, Alexei did not react to the question. Then he smiled. Faint at first, then widening—to a full, unamused grin. “No, Jay. I’m only blind when I wear a blindfold.”

* * * *

There was a text from Marcus on the flip phone when Kellen returned to his motel unit.

MD: Evan wants a debrief. Pls come to the station 3 PM tomorrow.

“What the fuck?” Kellen asked aloud. “What happened to that station being such a no-no?” Jurisdiction override.

Kellen collapsed onto the bed and dropped his head onto the pillow. Silence. The soft, accommodating feeling of the mattress beneath his body.

And then Kellen’s head shot up again. What the fuck does he mean by that? He can see without the blindfold? Why the fuck would he wear a blindfold, then? Was that response just sarcasm?