CHAPTER TEN

"No! I don't care if you have got a sore throat, you are not cancelling your fucking show! We're going back to the penthouse right now and you're staying there until 9 o'clock this evening!"

Who would have thought that such a pretty face could wear such a mulish expression?

"No?" Sirius echoed incredulously. "So what are you going to do … drag me out of here by force? And then what? You can't physically make me sing!"

"Wanna bet?" I snarled, grabbing him by the arm and trying to wrestle him out of the booth. He responded by twisting away and stomping on my foot, hard. Mikey and Emmett looked on with their mouths open.

"I'll scream for the cops and get you arrested for kidnapping!" Sirius shouted, crowding back against Emmett. "I'm an adult and you can't make me do anything I don't want to do!"

"What the fuck's going on?" Debbie demanded, arriving at the closest thing she had to a run. "Brian, what are you trying to do to that boy?"

Sirius obviously knew an ally when he saw one. "He's trying to make me sing tonight when I don't feel up to it," he told her, his blue eyes wide and upset. "My throat's really sore, but he won't listen!"

"If your throat's sore, it's because of all the yelling you're doing," I growled, trying to grab him again. Instead I found myself face-to-face with a furious Momma Bear in a red wig.

"Don't you touch that boy, asshole, unless you want me to deal with!" she snapped, jabbing me in the chest with a scarlet talon.

"My voice coach told me that the worst thing I could ever do was to try and sing with a sore throat," Sirius piped up in a suddenly croaky voice behind her. I glared at him over Deb's shoulder and damned if I couldn't see a smirk on the little fucker's face before she turned towards him and the kicked-puppy-dog expression slipped back into place. Deb squashed her ample butt onto the seat beside him and laid a hand on his forehead.

"You do feel a little hot, sweetie."

Sirius nodded agreement. "I feel kinda sick, too," he told her pathetically.

"I'm not surprised, after all those burgers," Mikey observed.

"For Christ's sake!" I slumped back on the bench. "There's nothing wrong with the little Princess, Deb, except that he doesn't want to perform tonight. But he's going to whether he likes it or not."

"And what gives you the right to make Sunshine's decisions for him?" Debbie demanded.

"Because that's my fucking job!" I shouted. "I'm supposed to keep an eye on him while Saperstein's out of town and make sure he doesn't get into any trouble. And that includes making sure he turns up for his fucking show!"

Debbie looked at me blankly. "What is he? Six? Besides, what kind of trouble could a little sweetie like this get in?"

I remembered asking Vance virtually the same question; it seemed I was beginning to find out.

"If you're supposed to be looking out for me then you shouldn't try to force me to sing when my throat is hurting," Sirius lectured. "What do you think Gary will say if he finds I've damaged my vocal chords because you wouldn't listen?" He coughed a little and winced, rubbing his throat.

"Ooh, good point," Emmett said admiringly.

Manipulative little liar? It didn't even begin to describe the cunning, devious, opportunistic, unprincipled little shit sitting opposite, leaning against Debbie's motherly bosom and letting her stroke his hair like he was her long-lost baby.

"He's not going to do any such thing, Sunshine," she assured him tenderly. "Now, I tell you what: I'm gonna fetch you a nice glass of iced water and a couple of aspirin and you just sit there quietly until my shift finishes, which is only another half an hour. Then you can come home with me and lie down in Michael's old room until you feel better, and this asshole…" she jerked her head at me, "can call whoever he has to and cancel your show. How does that sound?"

"Really?" the little twat asked, with such doe-eyed gratitude that I nearly puked my turkey on rye. "That would be wonderful."

God give me strength. If we'd been on the street I'd have simply bundled him into the Jeep before he had a chance to yell for help, but he'd been clever enough to make sure he was surrounded by onlookers, any of whom might have been prepared to interfere if I really started to man-handle him. As for Debbie – well, I figured she'd probably knock me cold with the serving tray before she let me drag him out of the Diner against his will. This was exactly the kind of mess I'd dreaded when I'd first heard about the little shit.

She was bustling away now on her mission of mercy and I leaned over the table, glaring at him fiercely. "I thought I had your word that you wouldn't try anything?"

"I'm not," Sirius replied, all injured innocence. "It's not my fault if I don't feel well, is it?"

I was 99% sure the kid was lying through his white, shiny teeth but I couldn't see that there was much I could do to prove it at the moment. It looked like I'd have to let Debbie take charge temporarily, and maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing … I supposed it wouldn't do the kid any harm to have a little mothering for a change, particularly after the emotional visit to his own home earlier. If he was still claiming to feel ill I'd call his bluff and fetch a doctor, and if it turned out the brat was lying then I'd haul him back to the Starlight by his pretty little ear no matter what Deb thought about it. In the meantime I'd just have to stick to his side like glue, and make sure he didn't have any more opportunities to undermine me.

At least, that was what I told myself.

I sighed and dug out my cell to call the Starlight and let them know they'd better find a replacement act for tonight.

"What the fuck's going on, Brian?" Saperstein was yelling. "Nobody was picking up at the penthouse so I called Reception and they said Sirius had cancelled his show tonight because he's not well! What's wrong with him and where the hell are you both?"

I set my teeth against the strident sound of his voice and took a firmer grip on my cell. "Nothing's wrong … he just got a sore throat and started a little fever."

"A sore throat?" he screamed. "Why the fuck would he have a sore throat? Jesus Christ, he was fine this morning!"

"It's probably just a virus, Gary; one of those twenty-four hour things, I expect. No reason to get yourself in a state. If he's no better tomorrow I'll call a doctor, okay?"

His voice changed a little. "A doctor … yeah, right … of course, if you need to. Only make sure you call my own personal physician … he's the only one I trust with the kid. His name's Stanton and he's number 7 on the penthouse phone speed dial: you'll go through to his cell, not the surgery. Explain you're calling for me, tell him what's wrong and he'll come out."

"Number 7 on the speed dial, got it."

"You still haven't told me where you are."

"We're at the penthouse, Gary, where else?" I was surprised how easy I was with lying to him. "Sirius is asleep so he probably turned the phone off. And I've been in the gym for the last hour."

Vic was sitting in his armchair reading; he looked up from his book and raised his eyebrows. Beyond him I saw Debbie coming down the stairs; she picked up the house phone from the hall table and started back up with it.

"Oh." The Sap sounded a little mollified. "Okay, but you should have let me know what was going on, Brian. I was imagining all kinds of shit. If you have any more problems with Sirius I expect you to call me at once … if I can't pick up then leave a message and I'll get back to you ASAP."

"I was going to call you as soon as I got back to the suite," I lied again. "You beat me to it."

"Well, don't let it happen again. I'm going to call first thing in the morning to find out how he is, and I'll want to speak to Sirius too … if he's still sick I'll cancel my meetings and fly home tomorrow."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," I told him truthfully.

"He'd better be," Saperstein snapped, "or I shall hold both you and Vangard responsible."

I sighed and put my cell away. Vic closed his book and took off his spectacles.

"The kid's manager, I presume?"

"Yeah, that was the Sap."

"Sounds a little over-protective." He grinned. "Not that I can blame him, of course."

"I don't know. I get a weird vibe off the guy." I sat forward on the couch. "You know anything about him, Vic?"

"I've read a few articles about him since he opened the Starlight. I know he ran some big nightclubs before he came to Pittsburgh, but he seems to keep the rest of his background pretty much under wraps."

"How the fuck did a loser like that get enough money to renovate that place?"

Vic shrugged. "Drugs or the Mob, according to who you talk to. Personally I'd vote for drugs: I doubt there's a Gay Mafia yet, no matter what the Republicans think."

I'd put my money on it, too. I stood up. "Well, I'd better go and let the Princess know his lord and master called … and what the cover story is."

Vic chuckled. "He's already got Debbie wound round his little finger and now he's got you lying for him. Looks like a dangerous character, your little Sirius."

"He's not mine. I get to give him back, thank God."

I headed for the stairs and met Debbie on the way down. "Is he awake?"

"Yeah, he asked for the phone so he could call his band and let them know not to turn up tonight."

"Why didn't he use his cell?"

"Says he hasn't got one." She fixed me with a basilisk eye as I tried to pass her. "And don't give him a hard time, asshole. He's still feeling under the weather."

He'd be feeling a damn sight worse if I had anything to do with it. I climbed the rest of the stairs and turned down the hall towards Mikey's room, but I stopped when I heard the kid's voice. He was talking softly, but thanks to the paper-thin walls in Debbie's house I could still hear him clearly. He sounded weary, the same way he had that first night when he'd been talking to Saperstein in his dressing room.

"Ethan, it'll be okay. Don't worry about it. Yeah, I know. I know, alright? Look, I've got a sore throat. I can't sing. What's he going to do?"

Ethan. My mind went back to the kid with the violin, the one who couldn't take his eyes off Sirius. Yep, it had to be him.

"Whatever," Sirius said, sounding irritated now. "I could give a fuck. I've told you, it's my business … yeah, it is. And I don't need you to tell me that. Look, just tell the guys I'm sorry and I'll see them next week. Yeah. Bye."

Interesting. Okay, it hadn't sounded like a conversation between two lovers, but it hadn't sounded as if the kid was talking to a complete stranger, either. There was a level of intimacy between them, a hint of shared knowledge … but of what? I waited a minute and then walked up to the bedroom door and stuck my head in. Sirius was lying on his back, looking more youthful than ever under Mikey's Captain Astro quilt.

"Just thought I'd let you know, you're busted. Saperstein called the Starlight, so he knows you're not singing tonight."

"Was he pissed?"

"You could say so. I told him you'd lost your voice and were sleeping, and you'd probably turned the phone off. But he wants to talk to you first thing in the morning."

"I'm sure he does."

I crossed to the bed and looked down at him. "Don't think you're fooling me, Princess. It was a very clever idea to enrol Florence Novotny as your guard dog, but you're going back to the Starlight in the morning to face the music with Saperstein whatever you say. I'm not lying for you again."

"I never asked you to," he said quietly, turning his blue gaze to my face. "You don't know what it's like to be shut up there with Gary day after day, knowing that the only times you do get out you'll never be alone, or doing the things you want to do. He'll still be right there, watching every fucking move you make."

Well, put like that, I could hardly blame him for grabbing any opportunity for escape with both hands. But then I reminded myself what a consummate little liar he was and hardened my heart. After all, he was in this position of his own free will, wasn't he?

"That's the trouble when you sell your soul to the devil," I told him. "You were prepared to pay the price for stardom … it's no good whining about it now."

His eyes … shut down. There's no other way of describing how every flicker of emotion died out of them, of how dead and cold they looked. "You think you're so smart but you have no idea what the fuck you're talking about," he said. "Now fuck off and leave me alone. I want to sleep." He turned his back to me and pulled the quilt up around his ears.

Hard truth always hurts, Sunshine, I thought as I closed the door behind me and made my way back downstairs. I knew I'd pissed him off but I told myself he deserved it. I suppose I shouldn't really have been surprised when Debbie went up to check on him a couple of hours later only to find the bed empty and the window open. The little shit had sneaked out by the same route I'd always used on clandestine visits to Mikey all those years ago when we were kids.

I shouldn't have been surprised by that, either.

TBC