Most Wanted: Billy 8

By Timothy Lee

In this, the conclusion of the Billy series, Billy finds himself trapped in a highrise hotel room following an earthquake. Seeing as how his past week had been complicated by his continually ending up in jail, not to mention Mirna's co-worker, Bernard, swooping in and taking every guy Billy liked, perhaps the building coming down upon his head is for the best. Still, he continues to hope that the Bunny Hill Riders, who had been in other rooms of the hotel, might come busting through the cracked walls and save him. And who is the mysterious man behind the locked door of the adjoining room? ...the man that Billy is falling for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Timothy Lee
• Release date: Aug 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301076468

Timothy Lee

Timothy Lee was born in Concord, California, and raised in South Lake Tahoe, California. Eventually he migrated northward and finally settled down in Olympia, Washington, where he now resides with his two cats, Kodora and Koji. Timothy takes his yearly vacation to the Disneyland Resort where he is allowed to wear silly mouse ears hats and act like a 10 year old.

Book preview

MOST WANTED

Billy 8

Timothy Lee

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Timothy Lee

Published by Smashwords

[e-mail]

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

About the Author

Other Titles

Chapter 1

If there could even remotely be any good news in light of the devastating catastrophe it would be that the high rise building imprisoning Billy Butler was not laying upon the surrounding streets of Portland, Oregon, in a pile of steel and debris with him buried somewhere in the middle. The quake had shaken him awake at what he figured to have been somewhere around 2:30 in the morning, this being thought to have shown on the face of the digital clock on the beside table right before it went dark.

The bad news, however, overpowered the good by a ratio of about a billion to one, and even as the sunlight had begun peeking through the open curtains in the morning hours Billy was feeling no better than he had when earlier pathetically huddled in a fetal position. In fact, the light actually exacerbated the feelings of doom by drawing to his attention the extent of the damage to his hotel room. The exposed iron beam, now visible propped up at an odd angle above the door, explained Billy's inability to pull the door open and get the hell out of the room.

Escape through the window was useless, seeing as how it did not open. Even if it had, though, it was a straight seventeen story drop to the concrete below and this was not a leap of faith that Billy was willing to take. Thankfully, the upper seven floors had wavered and moved about some in the temblor but had remained where they belonged: above him... at least for the time being. The prospect of the occasionally groaning structure coming down upon his head was more than just a little disconcerting to Billy but at the moment there was absolutely nothing this side of the planet that he could do about it.

The quake had not only isolated him behind a very hard, very stuck door but had effectively cut off the electricity and all forms of communication. Logic dictated that somebody had to know that he was there but at the moment Billy could not be certain as nobody had been attempting to communicate with him out in the hallway. Oh, he had done his share of yelling and door-pounding, although the latter was purposely kept to a minimum owing to the fact that the beam pinching the door jam looked iffy in its ability to continue to pull its weight and keep these floors above him where they belonged.

It was more the members of the Bunny Hill Riders that Billy had been depending on for rescue than any of the city's emergency services since they had all ridden their motorcycles up together and were a rather tight group. So far, though, even they appeared to have been stuck inside their rooms on the floors below. After all, would they not be moving the earth in order to account for him, dead or alive?

The occasional fear that they had all been killed in the quake would travel through his mind with devastating effects upon his nervous system but Billy had thus far been somewhat successful in convincing himself not to worry needlessly until being proven otherwise. He did, however, maintain a healthy and constant regret over having been the one to suggest their eventual destination, and for this he had resigned himself to the eventuality that if, through some miracle, they all somehow survived this tragedy he might never hear the end of it from his fellow bikers. In fact, there was the very distinct possibility that he would be ejected from the club despite his having no control over the moving ground below their feet.

Standing before the glass window, Billy looked down to the streets below, most being hidden by surrounding buildings rising high into the sky and blocking out any chance of a suntan to those walking about on the sidewalks. What traffic he could see through the plethora of gigantic buildings surrounding him appeared to be snarled into twisted masses of both automobiles and pedestrians, all attempting to rush to be somewhere they were not. The lack of electricity, and thus the traffic lights, only managed to drag all activity down to a crawl and to Billy it seemed surprising that anybody was moving at all. Still, he would have much preferred being one of those below than in his prison high above the city.

Pretty much immediately he had assumed the phone to be dead and was proven right by lifting the receiver and listening to complete, heart-breaking silence. Making matters worse was the fact that the planet's underground activity had also knocked out cell phone service to the area, leaving Billy absolutely no way of finding out what was going on or of letting somebody know that he was alive and well (and scared out of his tree) on the seventeenth floor of the Executive Hotel and Suites. Therefore, all he could do would be to sit and wait... and hope.

Sitting very quickly gave way to pacing as Billy was not normally one to endure stretches of inactivity without the need for something to occupy his mind. He was not one for senseless background noise but he did enjoy the occasional computer game or the making of a meal. Even sitting on the back porch of his house back in San Jose, California, with a glass of iced tea was entertaining enough.

Sensory deprivation became his sole focus now and he feared its consequences. If he were to be driven mad would anybody recognize him and rush him to the hospital? Would he ever again recognize his sister, Mirna Chen, or his father, Mel? Would Billy become a vegetable, his mind being nothing more than a few scoops of mashed potatoes lacking gravy? It was a frightening prospect but one that he felt needed to be considered so that he might find a way to ward off what he perceived to be the inevitable.

Billy again strode to the window, his emotions ranging from utter helplessness to determination to survive (and, in fact, every emotion in between), and he looked out across the downtown area. Spotting the Willamette he watched in hopeful anticipation of the Calvary traversing its watery surface in order to bypass the bridge tie-ups and reach him more quickly. Sadly, nobody of seeming importance was on the river, only a few small boats and they were traveling away from his location, not toward it.

If only he could open a window and begin yelling down he might have the chance of being recognized, but seeing as how the solid glass negated that possibility, Billy was forced to remain an anonymous casualty of the natural disaster. He had often considered throwing a chair through the window but was halted by the thought of shards of glass raining down on the unsuspecting pedestrians below, resulting in even more casualties - only these being by his own hand.

No, he had to wait and hope. Fortunately, he had not been hurt so he considered himself to be a lot more fortunate than others throughout Portland who might be in need of medical assistance; some undoubtedly being unable to reach a hospital for whatever reason. Of course, this did not preclude the fact that Billy might very well be hurt by his sister once contact had finally been established. Then again, maybe not, seeing as how she was still not speaking to him. Surely she had heard about the quake and was now going out of her mind attempting to contact him without success. The more he thought about this, the more he wondered if Mirna might be the reason that all communications were down, seeing as how she had probably broken all systems while frantically trying to call all emergency services the city of Portland had to offer. Then again, maybe not. Mirna was angry (and known to hold a grudge longer than anybody Billy had ever known) so she might very well be ignoring his plight and possible extinction – if not welcoming it.

This mental image of his sister experiencing a nuclear meltdown over her inability to contact him was a rather comical one and it brought a brief grin to his face but that quickly evaporated, being replaced by the return of dread that had been eating away at his gut ever since having been awakened by the swaying of the building hours ago. If Billy could only receive some sort of confirmation that somebody, anybody, knew that he was alive and well then it might help to ease his worry. Even if he had somebody to talk to it would help focus his mind in directions other than being trapped and dying of hunger or thirst, or worse yet of the building collapsing and crushing him. While that might be a quicker way to die, Billy hoped for neither to transpire. Unlike the depression of weeks past, Billy now wanted to live and continue to participate in this thing called life.

Love was out of the question. That was an unfortunate truth that had plagued him for some time but he was now managing to handle it. Considering his current situation, it was probably for the best. After all, how fair would it have been to have finally found somebody to love and then weeks later being wiped out of existence. To that end, even the few scraps of possible love that had been tossed his way in the city yesterday would have ended the same way so it was just as well that he had been given nothing to keep on the back burner. Life was not fair, he knew, but there had to be some sort of justice in the universe and perhaps, in some wholly unfair truth, his remaining single this long was that very justice.

Returning to the side of the bed, Billy sat and again checked both the hotel and cell phones: neither responded and so his options again narrowed. Quickly glancing at the battery indicator and finding it to now contain about a quarter charge, Billy silently reprimanded himself for having forgotten to put it on the charger last night before going to bed. He dared not turn it off for fear that the system might come back up and his sister could get through, and yet he was running short of standby time and really needed to not waste precious battery life. Knowing that it was probably more prudent to just leave it on and hope for the best, he placed the phone back on the table and stared at it a few moments in some vain attempt to will it to ring. Silence told him of his inability to mind-wrestle a cell phone into action so he turned away and sighed heavily.

There was no water pressure in the bathroom so Billy would have to survive on the two bottled waters and one bottled orange juice that he had purchased at the vending machine last night. At least he had the foresight to set himself up in that respect, although with the lack of food he was going to be getting pretty hungry, and pretty damned quickly. In fact, the more he dwelled on that fact the more he felt his stomach grumbling so he was forced to move back to the window in a diversionary tactic.

Nothing below had changed, at least not in any discernible way that he could see, so he turned back and surveyed the room. The door, his only escape, was still pinned shut by the sagging beam above it and the walls on either side remained cracked, though not seeming to have gotten any worse than before. That was good in that it showed no further movement from the structure. The only other door, aside from that of the bathroom, was locked up tight and required an actual key to open. This was the door to an adjoining room, but seeing as he had only paid for, and been given, a card key to only this one room there was no way that he would be able to get that door open and possibly escape through that venue.

Besides, having already tested the door for its strength he knew of its impregnability and thus abandoned any attempts to try to force his way through, risking a possible broken shoulder or two with no success. There were no trapdoors in the ceiling in either the room, bathroom or closet so that idea died on arrival and the air conditioner and heating unit mounted in the wall below the window offered no means of escape as well. This was an impossible situation, and yet Billy attempted to remain hopeful that help was on the way, if not yet under his very nose. That hope, though, was dying by degrees with every passing minute.

The constant lack of noise in the hallway was depressing, proving no outside activity. This could mean any number of things, the most frightening being that the hallway was inaccessible due to collapse. After all, if the beam holding his door closed was any indication then anything was possible. During the quake he had heard no sounds of a collapse, but then again he had been too frightened by the rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate up through the building as it swayed back and forth. If he could only stick his head out the doorway to have a peek he might feel a little more secure in his fate - or possible fate.

Billy missed his biker buddies; Carlos Moreno, George Santiago, Derek Bremerton, and Mark Angel Piper. He missed their cheerful chatter, optimism, and even Angel's smelly cigar that was constantly clenched between his teeth. Having only been with the biking gang for about a month, Billy was still in the getting-acquainted/getting-comfortable stages of their relationship although they had definitely taken a liking to him and seemed completely at ease. It was, therefore, reasonable to assume that they were worried about him and doing everything humanly possible to make sure he was alive and well and to bring about help. It seemed impossible to believe that they would just hop on their bikes and head back home without him, assuming Billy to be a memory of the past. Anything was possible, however, although that was just a possibility that Billy refused to believe.

There had been a total thus far of two aftershocks; these being far less jarring than the initial quake - thank goodness - but Billy had long ago mentally prepared himself for more. It was the possible aftershock that might bring the upper floors down upon his head that concerned him the most and might have him diving beneath the bed yet again. This was probably not the best place for him to hide but it was what had been beaten into his head in school so it was a natural reaction. Actually, were tons of steel and debris to come dashing down then there would be no safe place to hide, but as long as he was still alive it seemed reasonable to protect himself in any way possible. Besides, who knew how many times mattresses have saved people in earthquakes? Were there even statistics for that sort of thing, he wondered?

For the next half hour Billy paced the room, remembering his past and longing for a future. At this point he did not really care what kind of future, just that there be a future. Naturally, it would be better if he were to meet the right man and fall in love again but that pretty much went without saying. Billy had found love several times over the course of his nearly twenty-seven years of life and had relished in the emotionally rewarding benefits of that love, but now alone he longed to again taste that sweet nectar. Problem was that no bees were finding their way to his hive, and although he had been given several opportunities to rekindle those feelings, each and every one had turned sour almost before they had had a chance to be fully explored. His sister had found the man of her dreams; Wei. Even his father was dating again, but for Billy the scorching desert of loveless daily life continued to burn at his heels.

Suicide had not been the answer, but neither seemed to be the relentless search for companionship. He considered himself a nice enough guy, generous, cheerful, decent-looking, and yet after having love fall into his lap several times in the past, landing a guy in the present was proving itself to be a nearly impossible task. Then again, if the next aftershock were to bring about his demise then it was probably for the best. That way fewer people got hurt.

With his love now seeming to be remanded to his past and the sustainability of his life being in question, Billy could not help but wonder what he might have done to change the circumstances. He would not have traded his life with Abraham, or any of the other guys who turned his heart to mush, for that matter. So what was there to change? Certainly his decision to ride to Oregon would have been drastically altered had he been blessed with a glimpse into the future. His decision to move to Seattle a year earlier would have changed, as well, were he to have known ahead of time that he would end up penniless and homeless for a week, but this one was definitely worse.

If only he could turn the clock back for even a single week and make the necessary changes so that he would not end up trapped in a building that was showing signs of failing. Only one week, that's all. In the midst of wishing for a genie in a bottle, Billy thought he heard a noise - a human noise! Wasting no time he rushed to the door and pounded on it a couple times before stopping and laying his ear against the cool smooth surface. There had to be somebody out there and he was going to make certain that he was not overlooked. Again he pounded, this time adding his vocal calls and this should have alerted half the city, except that the lack of a reply was telling of his obviously only having thought to hear somebody.

Obviously, Billy was now hallucinating, hearing voices that were not there and it was only a matter of time before he went completely mad.

Chapter 2

One week earlier...

The air was rife with the aromas of lasagna, spaghetti and freshly baked dinner rolls; each of which was attempting to overpower the others. Joining in were the conversations of nearby diners in the restaurant with the volume level at each table gradually rising to be heard over all others. This did have the effect of drowning out the music that had already failed miserably in its intended desire to sound authentically Italian.

Each table was full of happy people, most already stuffing their faces while the newer additions sat gazing at the menus before them, salivating. Two such diners were Billy and his sister, Mirna, who was four years his senior. While trying his best to appear calm and collected, Billy was actually having troubles keeping his stomach in a state of repose. This was not due to hunger or a virus, however. He and Mirna were about to meet the new beau in their father, Mel's, life.

April Cunningham undoubtedly knew more about Billy and Mirna than they knew about her and that certainly put her one or two steps above the siblings, this undoubtedly adding to Billy's discomfort. Sure, over the course of Billy's life he had come upon circumstances over which he had labored in one state of malaise or another, but for some reason this time seemed to be particularly daunting. He and his sister had only learned of April a few weeks earlier and had, therefore, not really had a reasonable amount of time to adjust to the idea of a possible new member in the family.

Having gone through two step-mothers already, Billy was hoping that this one might be the one to outlast all others, for his father's sake... as well as his own. Billy liked things orderly, predictable. He was most definitely a creature of habit, which was far from customary in a life that had thus far been anything but orderly and predictable. But that was in the past and he was hoping for a little stability to wash over his future after the living hell that had been a major part of his life up to this point. There was no doubt that he had experienced his share of love and happiness, of course, but as of late the turmoil had outweighed the good and he was looking for a change for the better.

Did you take a bath this morning? Mirna asked from Billy's left.

He turned to her, finding her to be holding her nose. What the hell kind of question is that to ask? he said with a frown.

Because something reeks to high heaven, and since you're the one closest to me... she suggested, leaving the implication dangling before his face.

You're about as subtle as a train wreck, he countered. I smell it, too. I think it's the guy sitting behind us.

Either that or it's the daily special, she said, smiling while glancing quickly about the nearby tables. So, what do you think January looks like?

April, he corrected.

April, May, June... whatever month she was named after. What if she has fangs, a forked tongue and breathes fire?

Billy chuckled. Then we won't have to worry about our food being undercooked, will we?

Mirna chuckled softly, returning her gaze to the menu before her. You decide what you want for dinner?

Yeah, an antacid, he replied.

Upset stomach?

And how, Billy agreed with a generous nod. Glancing first to his watch then to the restaurant entry, he asked, Shouldn't they be here by now?

Dad said six and it's ten after, she said, grabbing her brother's arm to peer at his watch. They're fashionably late, that's all.

Are you sure you got the right date?

Mirna nodded. Of course I got the right date. Now settle down and decide what you want to eat before they show up and we find that she's ugly enough to blind us so that we can't read the menu.

Billy cast her a quick glare before emitting a brief laugh. "Stop with the ugly jokes, Mirna. She's probably very pretty."

Well, dad does have good a taste in women. Just as you do in men.

Thank you, but not lately, that's for sure, he admitted, returning his eyes to his own menu. Recently I've been batting a thousand.

So you're in a dating slump, Billy. Things will turn around soon and you'll be fucking your way to the top again. Mirna turned the laminated page. How's the Marijuana Chicken in this dump?

Billy quickly glanced to the page before his sister. The what?

Right here, she said with a pointed finger.

That's Chicken Marinara, he corrected, though knowing that she had purposely twisted the name. And I've never tried it so I have no idea what it's like. Glancing quickly across the aisle to a table to his right, he added, Ask them.

Mirna turned briefly before returning her eyes to the menu. Naw, looks too bloody. I don't feel like chasing a bleeding chicken around the table.

This made Billy's already-riddled stomach turn over. Mirna, stop that. You're going to make me heave.

Once more she glanced across to the table in question. Barf would probably taste better than the chicken.

Ignoring this, Billy massaged his stomach briefly while his eyes again scanned the page before him. I'm not really all that hungry. Maybe I'll just have a salad.

What about a wart? she asked calmly.

Billy turned quickly. What? Who would serve warts?

You idiot. I mean what if December has a wart on the end of her nose? Do you know how hard it's going to be to keep our eyes off that when we're talking to her?

April, he again corrected. And I'm sure she doesn't have a wart on the end of her nose, so stop that.

She could be an alien from another planet with tentacles and horns and green ooze, Mirna suggested while grabbing a breadstick and tearing a piece off with her teeth.

Billy found this thought amusing and discovered an unexpected laugh passing his lips. "For all she knows, we might be aliens from another planet."

Mirna nodded, saying nothing more on the subject. She turned another page, scanned it briefly and then closed the menu. Okay, I know what I'm having. Now, she said, again turning to her brother, we need to work out a system.

Billy looked up in confusion. Work out a what?

A system, she reiterated. You know, like we've done in the past.

He stared at his sister for a few moments in an attempt to try to figure out just what the hell she could be talking about before finally admitting defeat. All right, I give up.

Billy, did you miss your brain when it left your head? I'm talking about our system of letting each other know if the new person was too much for us that we needed to leave. Like if we tap a breadstick on the table or pinch our legs or something like that.

Now understanding, having utilized this 'system' in the past, he considered it a moment before answering. I doubt if we'll need anything like that tonight.

Mirna frowned. And you know this because...?

Because... he began before his thoughts cleared out completely. I don't know.

Fine. Okay, well, if September is too ugly then one of us will drop our fork on the floor. That way we can both get up and leave together.

And what will we give as an excuse? he asked, amused.

She considered her answer a few moments before responding. We could feign a heart attack.

Oh swell, and worry dad to death.

Yeah, you're right. Well then, how about of you tell dad that your prostrate exploded?

What? he asked through a generous laugh.

"Well, I can hardly say that since I don't have one of those, so it'll have to be you."

"And if you want to leave? What will you do?"

I'll sniff the air and tell dad that it smells like your prostate exploded, she said, chuckling.

"You are such a twit, Mirna. Forget the explosions, forget my prostate, and forget your system. Let's just hope for the best and get through the evening."

All right, but if things go sour or your prostate really does explode then don't come crying to me, she warned.

Billy shook his head and helped himself to one of the breadsticks. Glancing down to his watch again he then began to worry. It's not like dad to be so late. I wonder if they had trouble on the way over.

Yeah, Mirna said. Maybe October couldn't get her broom started.

Turning to his sister, Billy asked, What is it with you and April's name? And why do you keep referring to her as a witch? We already did our time with the Wicked Witch of the West, remember? he said, referring to Estelle, the woman who had raised Billy and Mirna as their mother.

It was of some relief in years past to have found out that she had actually been their step-mother, seeing as how she really was a bitch on wheels and not one to be proudly proclaimed as an actual blood relative. Thank goodness those days were long gone, and while there was some concern as to whether history was about to repeat itself, Billy hoped that this one would be more to the temperament of Mel's second wife, Mae, who was sweetness on the hoof. Unfortunately, her life had been cut short, leaving Mel alone once again and that opened the door for April a few years later. Billy was hoping for the best while simultaneously bracing himself for the worst. If Mirna was right then the days ahead were going to be trying, indeed.

Wouldn't it be funny if our waiter turned out to be Sang Kyu? Mirna asked out of the blue, referring to a recent failed love interest of Billy's.

Don't even joke about that, her brother warned, the pain of that breakup still fresh in his mind and a definite sore spot in his heart.

I'm just saying that after you two called it quits he left Wei's restaurant, and who's to say that he didn't get work in this one? The irony would be so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Billy cast her a glare. Just be thankful that the knives here are too dull to cut through skin or your head would be flopping around on the floor right now.

Okay, I'm sorry. I know it's too soon. I'm just still amazed at how quickly that relationship went sour.

Well, how did you expect him to react when he found out that the water employee, Riker Maleko, and me had almost gotten it on together while I was dating Sang Kyu? I would probably have reacted the same way.

Mirna nodded slowly, obviously in thought. Yeah. It's just a shame that you two couldn't have worked it out. I think you and Sang Kyu would have made a great couple.

Can we please drop the subject and get back to the thought of your head flopping around on the floor? he cautioned.

...or your exploding prostate, she said, chuckling.

In spite of his anger, Billy had to smile. Yeah, or that. Casting his eyes to the table across the aisle - and more importantly, the tempting meals upon each plate - Billy opened his mouth to speak again when without warning a heavenly light broke through the ceiling and shone directly upon a busboy working at a nearby table.

The man, looking to be in his late teens or early twenties, was the epitome of male sexuality. He reeked of the oils that would ignite an intense fire within Billy, and, in fact, would have done just that were it not for the fact that Billy had just consumed a fire-drenching raspberry lemonade and was somewhat waterlogged. The name tag pinned to the guy's chest was visible but only for brief moments at a time as he worked clearing the table, thus allowing Billy little opportunity to read and memorize that which needed to be indelibly emblazoned across his pillow for nightly wet dreams.

I don't know, Mirna said. It's a tossup between lasagna and... Billy? What's... Oh, I see. I thought I smelled testosterone again. I swear, Billy, I'm going to have to start putting you on a leash.

Glancing away from the man with short black hair, a five o'clock shadow and the world's most perfect nose, lips and eyes, Billy turned to his sister only briefly, What? Did you say something?

Don't bother. He's straight.

Billy's forehead wrinkled. What?

The busboy. He's straight so stop wasting your time sizing him up.

Returning his eyes to the table beyond, Billy watched the man's movements for a couple moments before again addressing his sister. I'm getting a very strong vibe from him, Mirna. If he's straight then I'll sleep with the next woman that walks in the restaurant.

Mirna's smile broadened. Then I suggest you have your taste buds set on fish because that's what... she began before being interrupted.

Mirna, that guy is gayer than I am. My gaydar is never wrong, Billy insisted, his eyes now following the busboy as the man carried the bucket of dirty dishes down the aisle and around the far corner. Furthermore, he added for effect, I think he noticed me.

Looking knowingly contemplative, Mirna stared at her brother briefly, saying nothing with her words but plenty with the stupid shit-eating grin upon her lips. Finally, she said, Mmm hmm. All right, and how do you plan on proving this little hypothesis of yours?

I'll ask him for a date, Billy replied confidently while, at the same time, feeling the stirrings of a swarm of butterflies invading his stomach. While he was 99.9% certain of his claim, there was still that lingering fear that his sister might just be right and if proven to be such, she would hold that over his head for years to come. It was true that he had not actually seen the busboy look at him: that was a fib. It was also true that Billy could live happily ever after with the guy snuggling up next to him in bed each and every night for the rest of his life. And finally, while it was true that his gaydar might be in need of some calibration Billy had every belief in his first impressions and the guy just reeked of being the next meal on Billy's sexual plate.

So, go on. Go ask him, Mirna goaded.

Next time he comes by, I will, Billy said with wavering confidence. He then sat and considered his options briefly before feeling the tendrils of her out and out mutiny taking root. And just how the hell do you know that he's straight?

Well, first, he's been undressing me with his eyes from across the room all the time we've been here. Second...

Oh, dream on, Billy said angrily.

Second, she continued, he acts more masculine than my husband.

Billy felt his frown deepen. That doesn't prove a thing. Most gay men are masculine.

And, third, she concluded without a pause, he's married with three kids, two German Shepherds, a Himalayan cat and an Australian Gerbil.

What the hell is an Australian Gerbil? Billy asked before realizing the rest of her proclamation. I mean, how do you know he's married with three kids and all the other shit?

Come on, Billy; think. If you looked like that how long do you think you would remain single and childless? she reasoned aloud.

Better go home and check your answering machine. I think the asylum called to remind you that you've gone without that lobotomy long enough, he told her while raising the menu before him, though mainly as an excuse to keep from having to look at her.

Mark my words, my soon-to-be-sexing-it-up-with-a-woman little brother. The busboy is straight.

We'll see, Billy said, his eyes buried in the menu without noticing a single item. Hearing his sister suddenly chuckle, he turned to her, What's so funny?

I was just thinking how amusing it would be if the first woman that walks into the restaurant turned out to be our new step-mother. Having to have sex with her would certainly be awkward.

Mirna, I am not even close to joking, he growled (while trying his damnedest not to laugh at her ridiculous remark). The busboy is gayer than a picnic. Furthermore, I'll bet you a hundred bucks that I can get him into my bedroom tonight.

She studied his eyes a few moments. Don't you think his wife might object?

Subduing a grin, Billy snorted, What wife? He doesn't have a wife and I intend to prove it right after dinner. Now, go flush yourself down the toilet or something equally as revolting.

Dad, is it too late for an abortion? Your son isn't ripe; at the very least he needs to go back in and bake some more.

Confused at first, Billy followed his sister's gaze to the end of the table to find their father, Mel, standing in a light-tan suit, smiling down at his offspring. Dad, would you please tell your daughter to do the right thing for once in her life and go play Russian Roulette?

Well, I see that all's as usual on the home front, Mel said, his smile broadening.

Where's September? Mirna asked her brother quietly with a quick glance about.

"Dad, where's April?" Billy asked his father, emphasizing the corrected name for his sister's sake.

Mel slid onto the green cushioned bench seat across from his children, folding his hands on the tabletop before him. I'm afraid that she won't be able to make it tonight. She called a little while ago and said that she has a headache and was going to bed.

I'm sorry to hear that, Billy said, noting the disappointment in his father's voice.

So, dad, Mirna said, herself folding her hands upon the table, exactly how serious is this getting? Are you using protection and keeping at least one foot on the floor at all times?

Billy rolled his eyes. Oh my god... he moaned.

She turned to him briefly. Hey, I don't want any accidents on my watch... I mean, look what happened the last time you had an accident, she said, directing this remark to her father.

Excuse me? Billy asked.

I just speak the truth, don't blame the messenger.

Mr. Butler chuckled. So, what have you two been up to lately?

Funny you should ask, Mirna said before her brother had a chance to respond, I was innocently trying to decide on what to have for dinner while your deviant son, otherwise known as 'the spider', has been trying to lure 'the fly', otherwise known as the straight busboy, into his web of evil and debauchery.

Debauchery? Wow, you're using words with more than three letters. You sure you know what they mean? Billy asked his sister through gritted teeth. The clenching of his jaws was, however, not due to anger but the