Page 27 of His Worst Crime

David smiled too between tight lips. “Yeah, the uniform’s dead sexy,” he admitted.

“I started riding when I was six. Mum was taking my older sister along for classes, and I went along for the ride. I don’t remember, but apparently I fell in awe of the horses at first sight and had a massive tantrum when it was time to leave. After that I got taken along every week and kept going to riding even after my sister lost interest. I was obsessed with dressage and show-jumping for years, the only boy in my riding club. Guess it’s no wonder I turned out gay.”

“You think riding makes you gay?”

“No, of course not, but I’ve noticed a lot of guys who ride are queer or bi, not sure why.”

David snorted. “My dad isn’t.”

“No, not everyone, but some.” There was silence for a while. “So your dad has the stud farm?”

David nodded but didn’t elaborate. Getting personal information from him was like pulling teeth.

“What about your mum?”

“She’s… she passed away, a few years ago now. Cancer.”

“Sorry.” At David’s shrug, he asked, “Do you miss her?”

“Of course.”

That killed the conversation for several minutes. Ramon tried to think of something to say. Finally a question he’d avoided popped into his mind: “So why’d you leave Carme’s?”

“Time to move on.”

“You didn’t even say anything to her.”

“I finished up the week, asked for time off.”

That was news to Ramon. Had he?

“But she always thought you were coming back.”

“I was planning to.”

“So?”

“So… a friend came to town, who… It was just time.”

“So… what? You planning to go traveling or something?”

“Yeah.” David nodded as if the thought had just occurred to him. “Yeah, we’re going traveling.”

Ramon had given him that one for free. His heart sank. What were they doing in this car together? The guy clearly didn’t want much to do with him, or to open up about himself at all. So was it just sex? Were they heading down to the farm just to have a bonk and then Ramon would drive him home? The thought depressed him, and he stayed silent for several miles. David didn’t make any further attempt at conversation either, so the silence stretched interminably. Ramon was almost tempted to turn the car around and drive them both back to Barcelona, or drop the boy off at the nearest off-ramp. He just kept driving through lack of initiative.

As soon as he got in Ramon’s car and the automatic locks clicked shut, David wanted to jump out. He’d made a terrible mistake. After saying he was going to put miles between himself and this policeman, here he was going going away for a weekend with the guy! It was pathetic how little self-will Davey actually had.

He couldn’t even blame alcohol. Sure, before coming to the stable, he’d had a couple with Ned, Dutch courage and all that. Ned had even insisted on a shot of tequila “to screw your courage to the sticking place, my man,” were his words. Accepting was the only way David could think of to shake him. He’d lit out as soon as Ned had his drink before him, knowing the guy wouldn’t abandon his amber fix. Ned had pushed him on the plan, and he’d finally agreed, but he swore he wasn’t going to do it. Stealing from Carme would make him an evil person, and whatever he told Ned to get him off his case, he wouldn’t do that. Despite having sworn to Ned that no money or goods to speak of was held up at the stables, the guy wouldn’t be put off. Tools was what Ned wanted, for the “jobs” he had planned.

“Look at it this way, Davey Dormouse, as long as we work together, your secret’s safe with me. And we’ll make a cracking team. There’s loads of pickings in this town. We can do a few jobs, move down the coast and live the life of Riley. Marbella! That’s where the big spenders hang out! Plenty of business to be done down there.”

At first David, while he was walking up to the stables that night, had thought, OK, I’ll get him his tools, but then I’ll split town. If he can’t find me, my secret’s worthless to him. But once he was standing there, feeling Boira’s warm breath on his cheek, talking to her, saying goodbye, he knew he wouldn’t steal from Carme, not even tools. If he could get back to his rooming house and grab his stuff without running into Ned, who was now also staying there, he’d leave tonight, take the metro to the outskirts, sleep somewhere, under a bridge, wherever he found, and then start hitching in the morning.

Then the copper had appeared. Ramon. What the heck was he doing in the stables at midnight! He might have asked David the same thing. But he didn’t. The way David’s luck worked was like a tragic movie, one blow after another. And he’d been helpless to resist. Ramon’s presence, those eyes, like a tractor beam locking onto him, and he was the Millennium Falcon, being drawn into the Death Star’s maw. Except instead of Darth Vader, he had Ramon, with his light saber made of flesh, hypnotizing David, and pulling him over to the dark side, making him choke on his dick, hooking him so there was no escape.

There’d been a moment. They’d got in Ramon’s car, a big four-wheel-drive like his dad’s, and driven down the mountain. Ramon had parked up on one side of the Rambla and propped his police permit on the dash. David had gone to grab his stuff. Standing in his room, shoving his clothes in his pack, he’d thought, I don’t have to go back down there, to his car. I leave this hostel, leave the city tonight, and that’s it, I’m done. Gone. It would have been the bright thing to do. Why hadn’t he done that? Retracing his steps down to the cop’s car, at every point, he’d been like, turn around, get out of here! Are you crazy? And then he’d got back into Ramon’s big tank.

Coming down to spend the weekend with a cop might be a terrible idea, but at least it was getting him away from Ned. He’d have to play things one moment at a time. At some point he’d break away and go his own way. Then this whole adventure would be behind him. Maybe he could start again, find some stables down in Andalusia, somewhere rural, well away from Marbella, where there’d be no danger of running into Ned. If not there, then who knew where… Serbia? Romania?