GENRE: Gay Mystery Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 21,340 words
RATING:

Sequel to Change of Luck

Waz and Renny are finally together and ready to start their next chapter without fame getting in the way. A crowded house puts a damper on things, and the two hatch a plan to get rid of Jordan, Renny’s houseguest who’s overstayed his welcome.

Jordan is a lot of things. He’s a talented performer. He’s loyal to Renny, and a cheerleader for Renny’s nephew Sterling when he needs one. He’s a mooch and an erotic Christmas card model. Is Jordan also a backstabber?

When someone tips off the tabloids that once rich and famous Waz is living in a trailer park and doing manual labor, Jordan is the obvious suspect. Waz wants nothing to do with the notoriety and nothing more to do with Jordan, who he and Renny kick to the curb. Is Jordan the real culprit, or have Waz and Renny made a big mistake?

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

The slam of a car door was only outdone by the slam of the door as Waz entered the house. “Son of a fucking bitch.” That was his greeting as he flung a paper sack onto the table. Eggs at the top of the grocery list were now likely broken. “Look at this!” Waz pulled out a magazine and waved it in Renny’s face.

“You have to hold it still.”

Waz threw it down instead.

“The Enquirer?”

“Yeah. Now I know why they kept calling me. Look!”

“Where am I looking?”

“Bottom of the front page.” Waz pointed, and Cyan peered over Renny’s shoulder.

“Oh.”

Hard Times for Waz Wazelle Now Living in a Trailer Park Doing Manual Labor.

Two shots of Waz’s trailer, inside and out, side by side, accompanied the headline in the lower right corner. On the next page were several more photographs and a short article about the financial freefall of the once rich and famous influencer and celebrity.

“Sources,” Renny read. “Who are these sources?” He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I know who they are,” Waz said. “I know who took those pictures of me on the roof and probably at your birthday party way back in June. Christiansen! Get your ass down here!”

The decent was rushed and noisy, both Jordan and Sterling showing up.

“And literally,” Waz sneered, “there’s your ass.”

Jordan was sporting his customary jockstrap. “If you wanted pants, you should have said so.” His smirk was equally expected.

“Get out!”

“Of where?” Jordan asked.

“This house.”

The smirk disappeared as his eyes shifted from Waz to Renny. “What’d I do?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“I ... I don’t? What’s he so mad about, Ren-Ren?”

When Waz threw the magazine, it hit the floor. Cyan picked it up and handed it to Jordan.

“What am I ...? Oh.” Jordan apparently spotted the headline. “I didn’t do this.” He tried to hand the paper back, but no one wanted it.

“If not you, who? Those pictures were on your phone. Yours and Sterling’s.”

Renny caught Sterling looking down at the floor.

“Sterling wouldn’t do it. You’re the one who’s pissed off Reddy wants you out.”

“Because you told him he does. Ren-Ren didn’t have a problem with me being here before you started hanging around.”

“And there you go. You’re pissed, and this is how you get even. Asshole. Get out.”

“Not your house,” Jordan argued.

“Tell him, Red.”

“Did you contact the tabloid?” Renny asked. “Did you send them the pics?”

Jordan didn’t answer right away.

“How much they pay you?” Waz wasn’t waiting for one.

“I’ll pack my crap.” Since Jordan had never stepped off the last stair, he just turned to head back up.

“Fucking asshole. Does he even know how much we wanted to stay away from this kind of shit? I don’t want my name out there, Red, for either one of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Renny said. “You okay, Sterling?”

He was sort of slumped with his side against the front of the refrigerator.

“Yeah. I ... I’m gonna go, too. I’m already packed up. So, ya know, thanks for letting me stay.”

“Any time,” Cyan said. “We’ll see you Friday, right? For your last weekend of shows.”

“Yeah.” Sterling didn’t budge from his spot.

“Maybe you can bring your mom.” Renny would never lose hope.

“Where do you think Jordan will go?”

“Don’t care,” Waz said.

“He’ll be okay.” Renny didn’t really know how, but he said it.

“He’s got money now.” Waz wasn’t cooling down. “With whatever he got paid for this shit, he can rent a place. Fuck, you should make him fork it over.” Maybe sensing Renny’s ambivalence, he aimed that at Cyan. “That’s what I’d do. Every penny. And that still wouldn’t put a dent in what he owes you. Let him sleep in his car.”

Jordan was back with a huge duffle bag. “Throw the rest out.” He didn’t stop but spoke on his way to the door. “Thanks, Ren for ... for everything since the day we met at taxi school. I don’t even know how to say it better. You’re beyond Gucci. Beyond a friend.”

Waz scoffed. “Hate to be your enemy.”

“I never saw us that way, Wazelle. But I’m ... I’m sorry.”

“Sorry you got busted so fast?”

“That and a whole lotta other stuff you wouldn’t believe if I explained it all, so why waste my breath. Superstar ...” Jordan managed half a smile for Sterling. “I’ll see you this afternoon onstage, so we don’t have to say goodbye yet.”

And with that, the houseguest they wanted out was gone.

So why didn’t Renny feel anything close to victory or relief?