An Unexpected Win
breakfast.
    Hawk didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m going by myself today.”
    “But why? I’ve gone with you all week. I’ve gotten used to seeing the kids, and I think they’re finally getting to like me.”
    Still not looking at him, Hawk gathered his things and reached for his keys. “That’s why. It’s not a good idea for them to get used to you. You’ll disappear, and they’ll feel abandoned. It would be too hard on them.”
    Trey clenched his teeth. “Too hard on the kids? I see.” He didn’t exactly see, but he had an idea. Who is he really concerned is going to feel abandoned? The thought made his heart hurt. “What if I continued visiting them? Then it wouldn’t be like I abandoned anyone.”
    “It’s not going to happen. You’ve got the day off, Trey. Sleep, relax, raid the fridge. Do whatever you want to do. Mi casa es su casa . I’ll see you later.” He left abruptly without another word.
    Fuming, Trey paced the floor. “Mi casa es su casa,” he mimicked angrily. “Jerk. I should trash your stinking casa and get the hell out of here. That would show you.” Guilt pierced him. He wasn’t mad at Hawk, he just didn’t understand why he’d been left behind.
    He glanced at his cell phone and for the first time noticed the notification light blinking. Trey picked it up and saw he had nine voicemails from Carter. Frantically he listened to them, the final one ending with, “Trey, you bastard, are you there?”
    He clutched the phone to his chest. The man was obviously drunk, but there was something else in his voice. Carter was in trouble. He needed to go to him.
    Trey called a cab and waited impatiently for it to arrive. He gave the driver his address and leaned back in the seat, fingers drumming the top of his knee nervously. This week had been a bad idea. He and Carter hadn’t been apart for ages. He should have realized that his lover was in a fragile state from his recent behavior. He said a silent prayer that when he arrived home, it wouldn’t be too late.
    In his driveway, he paid the cabbie and hurried up the walk. Unlocking the door, a stench was the first thing to hit him. Vomit, piss and booze. Trey held a hand over his mouth and nose as he hurried to the couch where Carter had sprawled out.
    Is he dead? He lowered his face to the unwashed man’s and held his breath, listening.
    Carter snorted and wheezed, then smacked his lips and grew silent again.
    Trey rose in disgust. “Not dead,” he murmured to himself. “Just blotto drunk. Holy Christ, Carter. What’s gotten into you?” He glanced around the room. Pizza boxes and plates filled the coffee table. Half-full glasses, Chinese takeout boxes and bags of potato chips littered every other available spot. “What a pig!”
    He poked his head into the kitchen and spotted the hole in the wall and the shattered glass, along with more smelly trash and food debris. Trey’s heart sank. He went to the cupboard and reached for a trash bag.
    The kitchen alone took two hours to clean. He swept and mopped the floor then left it to dry, and headed down the hall. The bedroom and other rooms weren’t in as bad a shape. Carter had obviously not slept in the bed much. Trey did what needed to be done, including scrubbing a foul toilet, then made his way back to the front room.
    He could only do so much there without waking Carter. He disposed of the trash and took care of the dishes, then sighed at the spotted, stained carpet. He didn’t want to know what the sofa looked like underneath his sleeping lover, but he guessed it was time to find out.
    “Carter, wake up.” Trey shook his shoulder gently.
    “Hmm, nmm, nmm…” He shifted, but his eyes remained closed.
    “Carter,” he spoke directly in his ear. “I’m home. Time to wake up.”
    The man’s eyes popped open. “Trey?”
    “Yeah, baby. I’m home. What’s left of home, anyway.”
    He scrubbed a hand over his face and struggled to sit up.
    Trey helped him, and sat on the edge of

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