Inside Out Part 2

He helped the guys at the door check people, and when Zach and his group approached, he saw Zach's friends all confer. Zach shook his head at first, but the others were obviously putting him up to something. Zach stepped away from the group, looking back at his friends, who all nodded. Then Zach walked right up to him and put his arms in the air. "You can search me if you like," he told Bull, his s.h.i.+rt riding up to show a strip of tanned belly skin.

Bull was tempted to call over one of the other guys, but he patted Zach down, who giggled like before. "Do you always do that?" Bull asked as roughly as he could. He was about two seconds from laughing himself, though he wasn't going to allow that. "Did your friends put you up to this?" he whispered as he finished his pat-down.

"Kind of," Zach told him as he stopped wriggling. "You're tickling me."

Bull rolled his eyes. This kid was delicious, with his tight little body, his b.u.t.t poured into jeans that had to be a full size too tight. Bull stood back up and realized Zach wasn't that little, just in comparison to him. "You can go on inside," Bull said levelly. He expected Zach to move on, but he stood there. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Would I be able to talk to you for a few minutes later?" Zach asked.

"Do you want a job as a bouncer?" Bull asked with a grin. That was the usual reason people wanted to speak to him. Zach looked down at himself and then back up. Bull could almost see him wondering if he was serious. "I was joking. If you want to talk to me, move on inside, and when I have a few minutes, I'll find you."

Zach nodded and moved into the club.

Bull motioned to the next guy in line, patted him down, and of course found the airline bottle he'd clumsily tried to hide under his belt buckle. He took the bottle and threw it hard into the trash barrel, listening for the satisfying crash of breaking gla.s.s while he contemplated kicking the guy out of line to set an example. "You can go on in, but if you ever try anything like that again, I'll bar you from the club," Bull said loudly enough for the people in line to hear. "The next guy I find alcohol on isn't getting in," Bull boomed over the line. "And if I find drugs on you, we're simply calling the police."

Bull signaled the next guy and noticed that a number of the men left the line. He didn't know why and he didn't care. He did find a few containers on a few intrepid partiers, and true to his word, he sent them packing.

Once the line was under control, Bull left Greg in charge and went back inside. The beat of the music thrummed through the building, and every patron seemed to add to it. The excitement was electrifying, and it both thrilled Bull and raised his radar for trouble. On nights like this, when everything and everyone was all energy, spirits tended to run high. He scanned the room and saw Zach sitting with his friends at one of the tables. He watched them talk, and then Zach looked over at him and smiled. One of the guys Zach was with stood up, and Zach took his place. It looked like they'd switched places so Zach could watch him.

Bull immediately wondered what was going on with these guys.

"Something wrong?" Bob, one of the bartenders, asked, leaning over the bar.

"I don't know," Bull said, glancing away from the table for a few seconds.

Bob nodded and moved on to the next customers. Bull scanned the room and didn't see any trouble. He did catch Bob's eye and gave him a nod and a quick smile of thanks before heading toward the table. He figured he'd see what Zach and his group were up to.

"Having a good time?" he asked the group with a smile. They all looked up, all smiles and not a hint of guile from any of them. He turned to Zach. "You wanted to talk to me?" Zach nodded and stood up. Bull led him toward the back and to one of the vantage points Bull liked best. Troublemakers tended to watch the bar or the door, some the restrooms, depending on what they had in mind, but few paid any attention to the spot just behind one of the sets of lights. "What do you need?" The music wasn't as loud in this particular spot. That was another advantage. "You aren't looking for a job, are you?"

"No, but I wanted to ask you about your job," Zach said, s.h.i.+fting a little nervously from foot to foot. "I like to draw, and I'm starting this comic book, well, really, it's a graphic novel, and...um ... I based my hero on you."

"Me?" Bull asked skeptically. "The hero," he added and then laughed. "I can see being cast as the villain, but definitely not the hero." Bull swallowed when Zach stared at him seriously. "I thought you were kidding."

"The last time I was here, you saved me. What's not heroic about that?" Zach asked and pulled a small notepad out of his pocket. Bull wasn't convinced, but if the kid wanted to use him as some sort of hero, he wasn't going to complain. "I was hoping you could maybe tell me some interesting stories about things you've seen, fights you've broken up, stuff like that. I'm trying to work on the plot of the story. I have great characters and an interesting villain, though that may change."

Bull shook his head. "Let me get this straight: you're creating a comic book, and I'm the hero?"

"A character based on you, yeah," Zach told him. "I wasn't sure if you'd be interested, but we all agreed"-Zach looked over at the table where his friends sat-"that you should know. It's only fair." Zach s.h.i.+fted again. "So will you help me?"

Activity on the other side of the club caught Bull's attention. Without answering, he hurried away toward raised voices and two men already squaring off with each other. "There a problem, guys?" Bull asked as he approached the two men. They weren't very big, and both of them took one look at Bull and swallowed as he loomed over them. "Either work it out or leave. But if you fight in here, I'll throw you out, and your mamas can come pick up the pieces." Both men shook their heads and backed away, heading to their respective groups. He watched for a few minutes and then walked back.

"What was that about?" Zach asked.

Bull shrugged. "I'm not their therapist. It's my job to make sure they don't cause trouble here or directly outside the club. We need to keep our lines controlled, and we try to be good neighbors to the businesses and the people who live in this area. I don't want people fighting in or outside my club, just like I don't want people dealing or doing drugs. It's bad for business." Bull tensed when he saw another potential situation developing. It seemed to settle on its own, though, and he relaxed.

"I need to let you work," Zach said. "I really appreciate you talking to me, though, and I'd like to hear some of your stories. I think it could add a touch of realism to the comic." Zach looked about ready to turn to go back to his friends. Bull knew he should let him, but dang, the kid was using him as his comic book hero.

"I don't get done until really late tonight, but I'm off tomorrow. We could meet somewhere if you want to talk," Bull offered.

From the smile he got, Bull would have thought Zach had just won the lottery. "Really?"

"Sure. How about we meet at the diner on Second near the Hilton, about one," he offered. He could give Zach some time. He had to eat anyway.

"Okay. I'll bring my drawings so you can see them," Zach said and then bounded back toward his friends. d.a.m.n, it looked like his feet barely touched the ground the whole way. Bull chuckled to himself for a few seconds and then stilled. How long had it been since he'd laughed about anything? He tried to remember and came up short.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked as he approached him from behind. Bull didn't jump, but he had to consciously keep his hands to his side.

"One of these days, I'm going to knock your lights out when you do that," Bull said.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said. "So who's the guy you were talking with?"

"He's just a kid," Bull said.

"No, he's a young man," Harry said, and Bull stifled a cringe when Zach looked back at him and smiled. This was not going to go well. "Really nice-looking, and he seems to like you."

"Harry," Bull warned.

"Knock it off. I have no idea what happened to you, but you've gotten growlier by the day. So you either need to get laid or fall in love."

"Harry the romantic," Bull retorted.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Harry quipped with a grin. "And since you never had trouble with the former, I'd say it's problems with the latter that are giving you fits." Harry turned toward him. "You can try to deny it, but that kid's getting to you."

"He is not," Bull countered lamely. "I just need a day off."

Harry gave him one of his "I know you better than that" looks. "Have you figured it out yet?" Harry asked.

Bull groaned. "It's not my job to babysit you or your love life. If you're seeing someone and they make you happy, that's all that counts. But you don't need to keep it a secret. No one around here is going to judge you."

Harry glanced toward the bar. A few minutes later, a gla.s.s of iced tea made its way over to him.

"Good for you," Bull said. How he could have missed it was beyond him. But like Harry said, it wasn't his job to watch his partner. "So which one is it?"

"Juan," Harry said. "We aren't keeping it a secret, except it's new and neither of us wants complications at work. He has to work with the other bartenders, and we need to manage the entire staff without playing favorites."

Bull knew that was true. He caught the eye of one of the other bouncers and saw him turn away for a second. He waited and watched as he moved toward the door. Bull followed his gaze and saw the problem. He was ready to help, but it wasn't needed. His gaze automatically went back to Zach and his friends. Harry chuckled softly, and Bull suppressed a growl. They weren't doing any f.u.c.king good anyhow. "Don't say a word."

"Wouldn't dare," Harry said and moved away. Bull saw his shoulders bouncing and knew the a.s.shole was laughing.

Bull spent the rest of the night watching the crowd and doing his job. More than once he chastised himself for watching Zach when his mind wasn't occupied. His job was to watch the patrons and protect the club, but Zach drew his attention like a moth to flame. That scared the living c.r.a.p out of him, not that he was about to tell anyone. He had his reputation to uphold. The patrons behaved because half of them were scared to death of him, and the other half had heard the stories. The other employees and bouncers respected him and were probably a little scared too, but that kept them on their toes, because if they messed up, they had to deal with him. If they knew a kid like Zach could get under his skin with a few giggles and puppy-dog eyes, he'd never be able to do his job.

After midnight, Zach and his friends got up to leave. Bull turned away and tried to look interested in what was happening over by the bar. "Thank you," Zach said, and Bull turned. "I'll see you at lunch. It's really cool of you to do this." Zach smiled and then turned back toward his friends. Bull watched him go and wondered what in the h.e.l.l a cute little spitfire like Zach could ever see in a big lummox like him. The answer, of course, was nothing. He'd meet Zach for lunch, help him with his project, and then probably never see him again. And that was for the best. Right now, he had work to do, and Bull got back to it.

Keeping his mind on his tasks worked for most of the night, but as it wore on, he got tired and his mind definitely began to wander. By closing time, he was exhausted. Some of the other club staff members were organizing an after-hours party, but he begged off and went right home. Harry said he and Juan would handle closing the club, and Bull figured he didn't need to be a third wheel. At home, Bull took his customary single shot of scotch and went right to bed.

THE ALARM ALARM went off at noon, and Bull wanted to throw the d.a.m.ned thing across the room and then sleep for hours. He had the day off, which meant the night off, and he wanted to make the most of it. He didn't have to be anywhere.... "s.h.i.+t," he said as he remembered his promise to Zach. There went off at noon, and Bull wanted to throw the d.a.m.ned thing across the room and then sleep for hours. He had the day off, which meant the night off, and he wanted to make the most of it. He didn't have to be anywhere.... "s.h.i.+t," he said as he remembered his promise to Zach. There had had been a reason he'd set the alarm. He got out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. He used the toilet, shaved, and brushed his teeth before hopping into the shower. been a reason he'd set the alarm. He got out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. He used the toilet, shaved, and brushed his teeth before hopping into the shower.

An undercurrent of excitement ran through him as he washed. He was going to see Zach. He couldn't help wondering what the trim man would look like naked. He'd gotten a glimpse of belly when Zach had raised his hands over his head. Without thinking, Bull took his c.o.c.k in his hand and slowly began to stroke himself. He was just getting into it when a ringing interrupted his fantasy. Bull knew he should have turned his d.a.m.ned phone off. The ringing stopped, but the mood was gone, so he finished up and stepped out. He dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist before leaving the room.

He picked up his phone off the dresser and checked the last number-his mother-and he groaned before putting it right back. "What in h.e.l.l does she want?" he asked out loud to the empty room. He decided to ignore the call and the inevitable message. He got dressed and grabbed his wallet and keys. Reluctantly, he picked up his phone. By some miracle, there was no message, but she'd call him back. She always called him back.

Bull left the apartment. It was gorgeous outside. The sun was s.h.i.+ning and birds were chirping in the trees. There were times when he almost felt vampiric, given the amount of time he spent awake after dark. After jogging slowly down the stairs, he got in his car and started the engine. Checking the time, he saw he could just make it to the diner without being late. He pulled out of his parking s.p.a.ce and headed downtown.

By some luck, he found a place to park and walked into the diner just a few minutes before the hour. Zach was already seated at one of the tables, chewing his lower lip. Bull walked over to the table and slid into the seat across from him.

"You actually came," Zach said and grinned. "I brought my sketches so you could see them."

"Of course I came. I said I would," Bull said more harshly than he meant to. People in his life tended to say one thing, but do another. Bull hated that and always found a way to meet his commitments. Of course, the easiest way for him was to not make any commitments, but he had, so he was here regardless of whether this was a good idea or not.

"You didn't have to come," Zach said, packing up his things.

"I didn't mean to snap. I just got up and haven't had my coffee yet," Bull explained. Zach stopped what he was doing, looking at Bull skeptically.

"You're not at work, so you can drop the tough-guy act," Zach said.

"It's not an act," Bull said.

Zach smiled and shook his head. "No one can be that full of himself." Zach opened his sketchpad again and flipped through the pages before turning it around so Bull could see it. He stared at the drawing and felt his mouth fall open. "I could make you an a.s.shole and turn the character into a villain, but I don't see him that way."

"I think I'm glad," Bull said, and then he actually smiled.

"See? I knew you weren't an a.s.shole all the time," Zach said with a huge grin that Bull wanted to either smack or kiss off his face.

Bull blinked a few times. He had to keep thoughts like that out of his mind, because it wasn't going to happen. The server approached their table, and Zach reached for a menu. "I'll have the usual," Bull told her, and Zach ordered a hamburger and fries. The server put her pad in her ap.r.o.n and walked away, then returned with gla.s.ses of water and a mug of coffee for Bull. "That's what you see when you see me?" Bull asked once the server had left.

"Yeah, I guess," Zach said. "I mean, I make things up so they're more comic-bookish, but yeah. I used you because this is how you make me feel. I could have been stomped to death, but you got me out." Zach flipped the page. "I know it sounds kind of dumb, but you were nice."

"Aren't people nice to you all the time?" Bull asked and then sipped from his mug. The coffee was strong, but tasted dang good.

Zach humphed. "So would you tell me some stories about things that have happened at the club? I know you've probably encountered all kinds of stuff, and I'm trying to find a plot to go around my character." Zach set down his sketchpad. "I was thinking of calling him Bull, if that's all right, and I thought about giving him horns, like a bull. Maybe he could gore or charge the bad guys." Zach smiled again, and Bull would have spilled national secrets if he'd had any. This guy was so innocent and open; it had been a long time since he'd met someone like that.

"I don't think I can help you much there," Bull said. "I haven't picked up a comic book in a long time." He alternated his gaze from the drawing to Zach. The character Zach had created based on him was cool, with muscles and intensity. Basically, the drawing was hot. Bull had never seen himself that way. He'd always emphasized the intimidating and forceful; the rest he wasn't concerned about. Intimidating was safe and kept people at a distance. That was what he wanted, or at least what he thought he wanted.

"It's okay," Zach said. "I'm sure it will come to me." Then he smiled, and d.a.m.ned if Bull didn't smile back. "I was hoping you could tell me stories about what it's like to be a bouncer. I'm going to make this a gay comic and I want it set around a club. But I need action and drama. I've been thinking of having Bull go after a group of drug dealers or something, but that seems predictable."

"It depends on the club," Bull told him. "We're very strict. Harry-he's my business partner-and I decided when we opened the club that we didn't want to be that kind of place. If we find drugs on someone, we don't let them in. If we see them doing drugs in the club, we kick them out. Always have. So the people who want to do that stuff usually go someplace else." Bull smiled. "A few months ago I had this cool dude who parked right outside the club. He got out of his Porsche and walked right up to the door." Bull chuckled softly. "He came up to one of my men and offered him a deal to get into the club. My guy signaled one of the other bouncers and let him in the club."

"You did?" Zach asked.

"Sure. We called the police, and he had enough stash on him that he isn't going to see the light of day again for years. He was also seen actively dealing, so the 'cool dude' is sitting his a.s.s in prison and his car was towed away by the police and impounded. He's done, and very few of his kind try to get in. Word gets around, both good and bad."

Zach pulled out a notepad and began writing. "That's really good. Edgar the Enema can be a drug kingpin who desperately wants to take over Bull's club because Bull helped put him in prison, and that's where he was introduced to all kinds of kinky b.u.t.t play."

Bull couldn't help laughing. "Edgar the Enema?" Bull asked.

"Yeah," Zach said, his smile dimming slightly. "My boss at work is a real douche. His middle name is Edgar, so we had to come up with something catchy. I may change it, but that's the working name."

"No, I like it. You can do some interesting things with that. Maybe he's developing a new super drug or something and it's most potent when taken as an enema. You could have a scene with him testing it and guys are bent over with their b.u.t.ts in the air or something, begging for it like they would s.e.x, but it's the drug. It's a comic book, so you want fantastic, but s.e.xy too, I would think."

Zach continued writing as the server returned with their plates. "Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked with a smile.

"I think we're good," Bull said before adding, "except maybe some more coffee."

"Sure, hon, I'll be right back." She walked away, then returned with the pot and filled his mug. He thanked her and turned his attention to the food. His stomach growled loudly, and Zach stopped eating and began to laugh.

"I have more questions, but they can wait until after you eat," Zach said.

"My stomach growls like the rest of me," Bull said before taking a large bite of his eggs. "What do you do besides draw comics and work for a douche?" he asked and then took a sip of his coffee. He was finally beginning to feel awake and with it.

"I work at a graphic design firm developing designs and logos for business cards, corporate letterheads, stuff like that. At least, that's my job description. What I really do is whatever Brantley wants. He's my manager. He didn't hire me, though, and I think he's got his nose bent out of shape over that." Zach ate a french fry. "But it's a job, and I can support myself and don't have to rely on other people." Zach picked up his burger and took a small bite.

Bull caught Zach's reference and narrowed his eyes, wondering why the happy, smiling man across the table from him would worry about having to rely on other people. He could see Zach smiling and crooking his finger at people and having them jump to do his bidding. "I understand not wanting to depend on others," Bull commented and then took another bite to stop himself from talking.

Zach looked down at the table, and Bull stared at him, wondering what had caused the sudden s.h.i.+ft in energy. "Do you want to tell me another story?" Zach asked after taking another bite of his burger. He was obviously changing the subject, and Bull was more than happy to oblige.

"Mostly it's breaking up fights, especially after people have been drinking for a few hours. Of course, there are the guys who drink too much. Most nights we have someone pa.s.s out and we take them to the room I took you to, give them some coffee, and call them a cab. We want our patrons to be safe, and the bartenders watch for people drinking irresponsibly, but people buy drinks for others and the bartenders don't always see them." Bull chewed slowly and tried to think. "There was the time two drag queens went at it." Bull couldn't help grinning, and Zach smiled, some of the cloudiness in his expression now gone.

"You mean like a catfight?" Zach asked mirthfully.

"Sort of," Bull said, trying to curtail his laughter. "Apparently, this queen, Priscilla Delight, had been dating this guy for a while. Do you know Priscilla?" Zach shook his head. "She's thin, and I swear you'd never know she had boy parts under those dresses, complete with a chest you'd swear was real, but isn't. Anyway, Monica Glenn Ross is huge-two hundred pounds, with a voice that can stop traffic. Anyway, apparently Monica made a play for Priscilla's boyfriend, and Priscilla would have none of it. Feathers, hair from their wigs, bits of dress, you name it, were flying around the club before any of us could get there. The two of them were rolling on the floor, yelling, scratching at each other's eyes."

"Good G.o.d," Zach said, clearly entranced by the story.

Bull continued. "The thing was, by the time we broke them apart, big huge Monica was a mess, and Priscilla simply stood up and brushed herself off. That's one girl or guy you don't want to mess with. Apparently Priscilla knew how to fight and tore poor Monica to shreds. We kicked them both out and we had to pull them apart again when they started to go at it on the sidewalk." Bull sipped from his mug. "I can tell you, a woman scorned has nothing on a p.i.s.sed-off drag queen."

"That's a good one," Zach told him as he finished writing and returned to his food. "That could have some great images: wigs, heels, and feathers flying."

They ate quietly for a while. It took Bull a few minutes to realize how comfortable he was. With people he didn't know well, he often examined them, wondering what their motivation was and how they were going to cause trouble. It was a hazard of his job... and his life. He didn't feel that at all now. It was nice just talking to Zach.

"Do you have any interesting stories about where you work?" Bull asked.

Zach shook his head. "I could tell you a Brantley story, I guess." Zach gulped some water from his gla.s.s. "Brantley is the most important person Brantley has ever met. He's a legend in his own mind." Zach swallowed, and Bull nodded. "So about three weeks ago, he gave me this a.s.signment to design and prepare some ideas for a customer. Brantley hated everything I did. Finally, he drew out what he wanted on a piece of paper, and I made it up for him." Zach set down his water gla.s.s. "When the customer arrived, Brantley called me into his office, and we went over Brantley's idea for the account." Zach leaned over the table. "They hated it... bad." Zach scrunched his face like a little kid. "I had my tablet with me, so I thumbed through some other designs. They had me stop at one of the designs Brantley had hated. It was perfect for them and just what they wanted. I swear I could see the smoke coming out of Brantley's ears."

Bull snickered a little. He'd known people like Brantley-lots of them.

"He hemmed and hawed and actually kept pointing the client back to the design they hated. Finally, the top executive leaned over Brantley's desk and threatened to take his business elsewhere unless Brantley cleaned out his ears and effing listened." Zach grinned brightly. "I think that was the best day I ever had at work. The customer loved my design, and Brantley had to eat crow." Zach looked like he was doing a little happy dance in his seat. "I love what I do. I'm really creative, and I can come up with unique designs that customers really like. I just don't like working for my jerk of a boss. Kevin says not to worry. He thinks Brantley will either get fired or promoted soon. I'm voting for fired, but as long as I don't have to work with him any longer, I'll be really happy."

"He sounds like a real piece of work," Bull agreed. "I guess I'm lucky. Harry and I bought the club a few years ago, when the old owner was about to lose it. The police were about to shut him down because of all the troubles in the neighborhood, and once that happened he knew he'd never be able to open it. So he sold it to us, and we really cleaned house. Harry remodeled the inside, while I made sure no one got in who wasn't supposed to be there." Bull sighed. "That first year was tough. We had a lot of expenses and were turning people away because we had to clean out the undesirables. It took a few months for the word to get around that Bronco's was clean, and then we were in business."

"So you own the club, or part of it?" Zach asked, looking impressed.

"Yeah," Bull said. "In my former life I made quite a bit of money for a few years and was smart enough to save most of it. So when the opportunity came up, I had my share of the money. Harry and I have known each other since... it's hard for me to remember not knowing Harry. We were each other's firsts in a weird way." Bull paused and realized what he'd said. "We never slept together, but we told each other we were gay and sort of muddled through figuring out who we were together."

Bull flashed on memories of Harry and himself huddled together one summer evening in the tent in Harry's backyard when they were about fourteen. They had talked in whispers about what would happen if they were found out. At every sound they'd gotten quiet in case someone heard them. But they had each other. As kids, sometimes it was just the two of them, but that was all that mattered. As they grew up, they'd grown apart after high school, but they'd found each other again working at the same bar about six years ago.