If one more person tells you that money doesn’t matter and
integrity is where the real wealth is and that a good soul makes you the
richest man on earth you are going to show them which direction your moral
compass points by shoving it up their ass. Spending the rest of your days
behind bars would be a fucking cakewalk compared to the onslaught of
congratulatory hugs and kisses you’ve received for saving the land of a
thousand queers.
You’re going to have to take out a loan against your home just to afford a
ticket, maybe two, to Fiji. At least
there, no one knows you saved the world and you can drink and fuck and walk
down the goddamned street without fanfare.
The night after, Babylon was brimming with queers just
waiting to get on their knees and offer up a proper thank you. You indulged all
you could. Sweaty and spent with a smile on your face, you assessed the men
lining up to worship at the altar and picked only those who were worthy. It
took four rounds, maybe five, for you to pinpoint that all you felt was…empty.
That pissed you off until your eyes burned. So you punished three or four more
willing vessels and finally came with a lot more pain than pleasure clawing out
of your throat.
**
Even if the interrogation room was painted Pepto Bismol pink and the cops
shaking you down were Emmett and Ted in drag, you would never, ever admit that
when a certain blond brought you coffee in bed the next morning, laid on your
chest and told you that he didn’t think you were a hero at all but a
self-serving bastard, you nearly choked up.
It’s been five days now and you wonder when your popularity among every
minority in the city will wane. You can’t pump gas without being asked to pose
for a picture. Well okay, maybe they just want to shake your hand. You hate it.
You know deep down that absolutely no one should want to shake your hand for
any reason at all. You’ve done nothing, nothing, to warrant the appreciation
they pour down on you like acid rain. If a single one of your ignorant admirers
had any clue what had come for the months, the years, before those few fateful
days, they’d kick you in the shin instead of kissing your feet.
You ponder how strange it is that one sweeping grand gesture can negate a life
of ball-busting, unforgiving, cold, hard, asshole. People suddenly look at you
like you’re a sweet, little, furry kitten waiting to roll over and have your
belly rubbed. And fuck that, you’ve spent three decades earning a reputation
for ruthlessness and you are not giving it up so easily.
You make a pact to be a bigger asshole than you’ve ever been in your entire
life. For the first time in over a week, you go to bed with a smile on your
face.
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