Blue Boy 1: Bullet by Garrett Leigh

happen?”
    “What?”
    “This—you, me,” Levi said. “I don’t even like you.”
    Sonny shrugged. “Yeah, well. The feeling’s mutual. The way you make me feel pisses me off.” He brushed his lips over Levi’s chest one final time before he disentangled himself from the grip of his thighs. “I’ve always hated you. Do you know we’ve worked in the same studio, hung out at the same club for two years, and you’ve never even spoken to me? I live, like, three blocks from you, and you walk past me on the street like I don’t exist.”
    “What?” Levi didn’t believe that. It was true that he’d written him off as a bitchy twink, but he’d always, always looked twice. Sonny was too beautiful to ignore. There was no way he’d ever walked past him. “I saw you. I let you hustle me home and cooked you dinner. How is that ignoring you?”
    Sonny scrubbed his hands over his face. He seemed rattled. “You wouldn’t have chosen it that way. I saw you and jumped your ass. Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll see you at the shoot, okay? Call me if you need help before then.”
    He backed away.
    Levi stared at the door, transfixed by the gaping void Sonny had left behind. It felt strange to be alone again, like he was in limbo, waiting to realize something really fucking important.
    His cell phone roused him. He fumbled for it, answering without checking the screen as he tucked his still-hard dick back in his jeans. “Yeah?”
    “Levi?”
    “Mr. Draper? What’s wrong?”
    “It’s your momma, son. You need to come home.”

Chapter Eleven
    “Levi?” Mr. Draper touched Levi's shoulder with his gnarled, weathered hand. “Levi, son? The police want to talk to you.”
    “Can it wait?” His voice sounded hoarse and weak, like he hadn’t used it in days. He cleared his throat. “Tell them to wait.”
    Mr. Draper left the room, his usual shuffling footsteps silent against the shiny hospital floor. The door closed with a quiet click behind him, leaving Levi alone again— alone with all that remained of his mother.
    He took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. He never saw the body after his father had turned his shotgun on himself. It was a bright spring day. He’d gone to school as usual, and by the time he came home, the only thing left of his father was the bloodstained, plastic tarpaulin someone had forgotten to remove from the porch.
    This was different—Bella wasn’t dead, not yet. She was still alive—for now, at least. A young Asian doctor with a black head scarf and kind eyes had told him it wouldn’t be long.
    Levi opened his eyes and ran his gaze over her, squeezing her thin, fragile hand. On the surface she didn’t look so bad—the hospital team had cleaned her up before he’d got there—but he could see the deformities in her shoulders and the strange indents in her chest. He was sure if he pulled the sheets back, he’d see the wheel marks of the pickup truck all over her broken body.
    She didn’t stand a chance. Mr. Draper said it was an accident, that she had milk from the all-night store in her purse, but Levi wasn’t buying it. Bella didn’t drink milk at three a.m. There was no reason for her to be walking the streets in her nightgown, no reason at all. One parent had taken the easy way out. Why not her? She let out a weak, shuddering whoosh of air. He held his breath, but after an unending moment, she began to breathe again.
    Not yet. Not yet.
    “Mr. Ramone?”
    He jumped. Somehow he’d missed the door ghosting open again. It was a nurse this time. She stepped into the room, assessing Bella with an appraising glance. “Why don’t you step outside for a few moments? We just need a few minutes. We’ll find you if anything happens.”
    Levi stepped outside. He was bone weary, so tired his body ached with every step. It had been hours since Mr. Draper’s call tore him from his Sonny-filled haze in the storeroom of the club. Somehow, though, he was wide-awake, so awake he felt like he’d