Joel Gomez-Dossi
Author of Hard-Boiled Thrillers that will keep you turning pagesDeadly Cult
Read an excerpt of Deadly Cult.
Chapter One
A tray filled with dirty dishes crashed to the ground while a jazzed-up version of “Easter Bonnet” wafted through the sound system. Silverware scattered and china broke into hundreds of pieces. Debris flew everywhere. About a dozen diners looked up, shocked that the serenity of Le Chateau, New York’s world-class bistro, had been shattered.
“Shit.” Jamie looked around to see who had run into him, causing the mishap, but the person had disappeared. Jamie dropped to his knees and began cleaning before the floor manager could make a big deal out of the accident. It was too late. “Monsieur Bradford,” the manager bellowed across the room. A millisecond later, he was hovering over Jamie.
“Pierre, I’m sorry. But I can explain...” Jamie’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Bradford, how many times has this happened?”
The question seemed to come out of nowhere. Jamie was shocked. “Sir, it’s never happened before.”
Pierre arched his eyebrows and flared his nostrils. “Well, you’re wrong. This has to be the third time this month alone.”
“No. I’ve never had an accident before.” Jamie wondered if Pierre was mistaking him for the busboy he fired last week. Or the one he dismissed three weeks before that. But with all of Pierre’s ranting, Jamie decided this wasn’t the best time to enter a conversation. “Perhaps I can explain everything after the shift.”
“No, you can’t. You won’t be around when the shift ends, because after you finish picking up this mess, you’re going to punch out of work and leave. For good.”
“I’m fired?”
“Yes, you’re fired. I can’t say it any clearer than that.” Pierre huffed off, spouting French curses under his breath.
Jamie figured something like this would happen eventually. Pierre hated his guts and nothing Jamie could say would change Pierre’s mind. Besides, I’m a complete failure, even at bussing tables.
To make matters worse, Jamie’s husband, Eddie Delgado, was making professional leaps. He was the sous chef at Le Chateau and had even gotten Jamie his job. “It’s just temporary, until you find your direction,” he told him at the time. But Jamie still didn’t have any plans for the future.
He clocked out and waited in the alley for Eddie to finish his shift. Several hours later, Eddie finally exited the back door. He straightened his posture and brushed the accumulated food off his checkered baggies.
“Your leg’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Jamie asked, sliding off the Dumpster and giving him a kiss.
“Don’t be silly. I’m tired, that’s all.” Eddie climbed into Jamie’s place and patted the empty space by his side. Jamie got back on the garbage bin and they sat for a moment, looking down the alley and into the crowded street. “I heard about what happened,” Eddie said. “Pierre’s a jerk, so don’t let this bother you.”
“But I’ve never had an accident before.”
“I know. But trust me, it’s not worth the trouble arguing with him. Besides, you’ll get another job in no time.”
“You think?”
Eddie nodded and gave him a tender kiss. At that moment, Pierre sashayed into the alley with two women by his side. He broke free from his entourage and walked up to Jamie. “Monsieur Bradford, I’m disappointed that you cannot understand why I terminated your employment. I thought you were more erudite than that. But c’est la vie, opportunities for someone with your looks and charm should come quickly. Who knows? You might get hired to carry some guy’s luggage.”
Pierre turned up his nose and snapped for his retinue. He weaved down the alley with them by his side.
Jamie’s body tensed, but Eddie held his hand tightly. It kept him from doing anything foolish. When Pierre was down the street, Jamie said under his breath, “I ought to sue this fucking restaurant for sexual harassment.”
“It’s all right. We’ll get by.”
“But we need the money.”
“I make enough for us to survive.”
Eddie was right. He was bringing in a fair salary and working for one of the biggest names in the industry, Chef Bardot. Unfortunately, Bardot was also one of the biggest sleazebags in the industry. Jamie changed the subject. “I just wish we could afford to visit our families for the holiday, and now you even have to work Easter brunch.”
“Jamie, your mom wanted to visit us for Easter, but you said no.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be right, especially when your family can’t get a visa to come up from Mexico.”
“Okay,” Eddie said. “I understand.” He took Jamie’s hand.
“I don’t want to hold your hand,” Jamie said with a seductive 29 smile. “I’d much rather hold something else.” He grabbed Eddie.
“Stop it. You’ll make me hard.”
“That was the intention.” Jamie ceased his antics, and they strolled to the street in a lovers’ embrace. In the city—the Village, to be precise—nobody looked twice at a gay couple engaging in public displays of affection. Practically passé de mode. Totally yesterday’s trend.
En route to their fourth-story, two-and-a-half-room flat, they came across a guy on the street hawking stuffed animals in colorful baskets. “Cuddly Peter Cottontails, only ten bucks! All proceeds go to Easter Seals!” he barked.
Eddie reached into his pocket, pulled out a twenty, and bought two pink-colored synthetic bunnies. The “Made in China” tags were in plain view.
Jamie was aghast. “How could you do that?”
“Do what?”
He turned even sterner. “Give money to just anybody on the street! Especially now that I’m out of work.”
“The guy isn’t just anybody. He’s from Easter Seals, for heaven’s sake.”
“And do you really believe that? And do you really think he’s going to give that money to them?”
Eddie thought for a moment. “For the love of God, Jamie.
Why wouldn’t he?”
“To keep the money for himself!”
Exasperated, Jamie started walking away and heard Eddie yell, “Jamie Bradford, you are too cynical.”
Jamie spun around. Eddie was struggling to catch up with him, and Jamie felt sorry for yelling. They walked the rest of the way hand in hand. At their apartment building, Eddie walked up the steps by grasping the banister. His leg must have hurt like hell, but as usual, he didn’t say anything.
That stupid Mexican machismo thing, Jamie thought.
Inside the apartment, Eddie carefully set the stuffed animals on the table. He looked exhausted as he crawled on top the pull- down bed. He didn’t bother undressing. He just closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Jamie took a moment to admire Eddie’s sweet face and strong physique. The post-adolescent body he had two years ago had morphed into a handsome young man. Muscular, too.
Jamie quietly took off Eddie’s food-stained tennis shoes and dropped them onto the floor. He carefully unbuttoned his checkered baggies, pulling them off the legs before starting to 3 tackle the white socks. Jamie smelled the scent of food emanating from Eddie’s body, but he didn’t mind. He’d gotten used to it over the past year and kind of liked it.
He lay next to his sleeping husband and lightly caressed the old wound on Eddie’s leg. He’d gotten injured helping Jamie escape a murderer, but he’d never say a word about it. Barely twenty-three years old, he was too much of a man to brag about it.
Why can’t I be that way? Jamie couldn’t answer his own 12 question. Instead, he continued to play with the soft, dark hair around Eddie’s scar and gently leaned over to kiss it. Eddie’s 14 caramel-colored legs stirred something within Jamie, and he 15 began giving Eddie’s body light kisses.
Eddie moaned.
“Te gusta?” Jamie asked when he reached the Jockey shorts.
“Sí. Me gusta,” Eddie replied.
That’s all Jamie wanted to hear, and he started crying. His pent-up frustrations flowed out. Anger at not being accepted into law school and the embarrassment of having to admit he didn’t quite have it all together. He was still good-looking, but he wasn’t the intellectual giant he wanted to be. Eddie put his arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“None of that matters. You’re kind and caring. That’s enough for me.”
“Well, maybe that isn’t enough for me. You’re a success, so you can’t understand how I feel.” Jamie saw the hurt well up in Eddie’s eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t know what I mean or how I feel, except I’m not happy. Certainly not being a busboy.”
“Well, you’re not a busboy anymore,” Eddie said, a smile on his face. “Pierre gave you an opportunity.”
“What opportunity?”
“A shot at discovering what you want to do with your life. Your calling.”
“You sound like a Jehovah’s Witness.”
“Bitch,” Eddie said.
Jamie gave him a devilish look. “Well, if I’m a bitch, I’m in heat because I’m horny as hell.” Jamie dug a finger into the waistband of Eddie’s Jockeys.
Eddie rose to the occasion. He must not have been that tired after all.
A tray filled with dirty dishes crashed to the ground while a jazzed-up version of “Easter Bonnet” wafted through the sound system. Silverware scattered and china broke into hundreds of pieces. Debris flew everywhere. About a dozen diners looked up, shocked that the serenity of Le Chateau, New York’s world-class bistro, had been shattered.
“Shit.” Jamie looked around to see who had run into him, causing the mishap, but the person had disappeared. Jamie dropped to his knees and began cleaning before the floor manager could make a big deal out of the accident. It was too late. “Monsieur Bradford,” the manager bellowed across the room. A millisecond later, he was hovering over Jamie.
“Pierre, I’m sorry. But I can explain...” Jamie’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Bradford, how many times has this happened?”
The question seemed to come out of nowhere. Jamie was shocked. “Sir, it’s never happened before.”
Pierre arched his eyebrows and flared his nostrils. “Well, you’re wrong. This has to be the third time this month alone.”
“No. I’ve never had an accident before.” Jamie wondered if Pierre was mistaking him for the busboy he fired last week. Or the one he dismissed three weeks before that. But with all of Pierre’s ranting, Jamie decided this wasn’t the best time to enter a conversation. “Perhaps I can explain everything after the shift.”
“No, you can’t. You won’t be around when the shift ends, because after you finish picking up this mess, you’re going to punch out of work and leave. For good.”
“I’m fired?”
“Yes, you’re fired. I can’t say it any clearer than that.” Pierre huffed off, spouting French curses under his breath.
Jamie figured something like this would happen eventually. Pierre hated his guts and nothing Jamie could say would change Pierre’s mind. Besides, I’m a complete failure, even at bussing tables.
To make matters worse, Jamie’s husband, Eddie Delgado, was making professional leaps. He was the sous chef at Le Chateau and had even gotten Jamie his job. “It’s just temporary, until you find your direction,” he told him at the time. But Jamie still didn’t have any plans for the future.
He clocked out and waited in the alley for Eddie to finish his shift. Several hours later, Eddie finally exited the back door. He straightened his posture and brushed the accumulated food off his checkered baggies.
“Your leg’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Jamie asked, sliding off the Dumpster and giving him a kiss.
“Don’t be silly. I’m tired, that’s all.” Eddie climbed into Jamie’s place and patted the empty space by his side. Jamie got back on the garbage bin and they sat for a moment, looking down the alley and into the crowded street. “I heard about what happened,” Eddie said. “Pierre’s a jerk, so don’t let this bother you.”
“But I’ve never had an accident before.”
“I know. But trust me, it’s not worth the trouble arguing with him. Besides, you’ll get another job in no time.”
“You think?”
Eddie nodded and gave him a tender kiss. At that moment, Pierre sashayed into the alley with two women by his side. He broke free from his entourage and walked up to Jamie. “Monsieur Bradford, I’m disappointed that you cannot understand why I terminated your employment. I thought you were more erudite than that. But c’est la vie, opportunities for someone with your looks and charm should come quickly. Who knows? You might get hired to carry some guy’s luggage.”
Pierre turned up his nose and snapped for his retinue. He weaved down the alley with them by his side.
Jamie’s body tensed, but Eddie held his hand tightly. It kept him from doing anything foolish. When Pierre was down the street, Jamie said under his breath, “I ought to sue this fucking restaurant for sexual harassment.”
“It’s all right. We’ll get by.”
“But we need the money.”
“I make enough for us to survive.”
Eddie was right. He was bringing in a fair salary and working for one of the biggest names in the industry, Chef Bardot. Unfortunately, Bardot was also one of the biggest sleazebags in the industry. Jamie changed the subject. “I just wish we could afford to visit our families for the holiday, and now you even have to work Easter brunch.”
“Jamie, your mom wanted to visit us for Easter, but you said no.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be right, especially when your family can’t get a visa to come up from Mexico.”
“Okay,” Eddie said. “I understand.” He took Jamie’s hand.
“I don’t want to hold your hand,” Jamie said with a seductive 29 smile. “I’d much rather hold something else.” He grabbed Eddie.
“Stop it. You’ll make me hard.”
“That was the intention.” Jamie ceased his antics, and they strolled to the street in a lovers’ embrace. In the city—the Village, to be precise—nobody looked twice at a gay couple engaging in public displays of affection. Practically passé de mode. Totally yesterday’s trend.
En route to their fourth-story, two-and-a-half-room flat, they came across a guy on the street hawking stuffed animals in colorful baskets. “Cuddly Peter Cottontails, only ten bucks! All proceeds go to Easter Seals!” he barked.
Eddie reached into his pocket, pulled out a twenty, and bought two pink-colored synthetic bunnies. The “Made in China” tags were in plain view.
Jamie was aghast. “How could you do that?”
“Do what?”
He turned even sterner. “Give money to just anybody on the street! Especially now that I’m out of work.”
“The guy isn’t just anybody. He’s from Easter Seals, for heaven’s sake.”
“And do you really believe that? And do you really think he’s going to give that money to them?”
Eddie thought for a moment. “For the love of God, Jamie.
Why wouldn’t he?”
“To keep the money for himself!”
Exasperated, Jamie started walking away and heard Eddie yell, “Jamie Bradford, you are too cynical.”
Jamie spun around. Eddie was struggling to catch up with him, and Jamie felt sorry for yelling. They walked the rest of the way hand in hand. At their apartment building, Eddie walked up the steps by grasping the banister. His leg must have hurt like hell, but as usual, he didn’t say anything.
That stupid Mexican machismo thing, Jamie thought.
Inside the apartment, Eddie carefully set the stuffed animals on the table. He looked exhausted as he crawled on top the pull- down bed. He didn’t bother undressing. He just closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Jamie took a moment to admire Eddie’s sweet face and strong physique. The post-adolescent body he had two years ago had morphed into a handsome young man. Muscular, too.
Jamie quietly took off Eddie’s food-stained tennis shoes and dropped them onto the floor. He carefully unbuttoned his checkered baggies, pulling them off the legs before starting to 3 tackle the white socks. Jamie smelled the scent of food emanating from Eddie’s body, but he didn’t mind. He’d gotten used to it over the past year and kind of liked it.
He lay next to his sleeping husband and lightly caressed the old wound on Eddie’s leg. He’d gotten injured helping Jamie escape a murderer, but he’d never say a word about it. Barely twenty-three years old, he was too much of a man to brag about it.
Why can’t I be that way? Jamie couldn’t answer his own 12 question. Instead, he continued to play with the soft, dark hair around Eddie’s scar and gently leaned over to kiss it. Eddie’s 14 caramel-colored legs stirred something within Jamie, and he 15 began giving Eddie’s body light kisses.
Eddie moaned.
“Te gusta?” Jamie asked when he reached the Jockey shorts.
“Sí. Me gusta,” Eddie replied.
That’s all Jamie wanted to hear, and he started crying. His pent-up frustrations flowed out. Anger at not being accepted into law school and the embarrassment of having to admit he didn’t quite have it all together. He was still good-looking, but he wasn’t the intellectual giant he wanted to be. Eddie put his arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“None of that matters. You’re kind and caring. That’s enough for me.”
“Well, maybe that isn’t enough for me. You’re a success, so you can’t understand how I feel.” Jamie saw the hurt well up in Eddie’s eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t know what I mean or how I feel, except I’m not happy. Certainly not being a busboy.”
“Well, you’re not a busboy anymore,” Eddie said, a smile on his face. “Pierre gave you an opportunity.”
“What opportunity?”
“A shot at discovering what you want to do with your life. Your calling.”
“You sound like a Jehovah’s Witness.”
“Bitch,” Eddie said.
Jamie gave him a devilish look. “Well, if I’m a bitch, I’m in heat because I’m horny as hell.” Jamie dug a finger into the waistband of Eddie’s Jockeys.
Eddie rose to the occasion. He must not have been that tired after all.
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