Chapter 12: The Street Where You Live
Trick was just the sort of bar I should have started with: full of trendy young things eager to hook up. I attracted not a few offers on my way to the bar. They must not get many bears. Of course, a few of them may have recognized me from the photos on the back of the DVD boxes. I’d prefer to think I was still handsome enough to attract attention on my own.
“I remember him,” the bartender said, once I’d passed over a hefty bribe disguised as a tip. I’d figured J.T. probably had a fake I.D. somewhere, or he couldn’t have even gotten into a bar to get into trouble. The bartender glanced at my cellphone once more and shook his head. “Tried hustling out front. First, we don’t allow hustling. And second—”
“Second,” came a smarmy voice at my elbow. “Edgar
