"It's Not Easy Doing Greene, Part 9"
By: Cathy and Melissa
When Carter had left Mark's apartment, he had gone straight to the nearest El station, then discovered that he had missed the last train of the night. It looked like he might have to take a cab tonight. He checked his pockets, but didn't have enough money for cab fare, and he really didn't want to have to sit in a car and listen to some cabbie drone on and on about anything and everything. If he walked back to the company apartment, then maybe he could get his thoughts organized and his emotions under control before he had to tell Roger that he had been kicked out by Mark. By his trick. Don't even call him a customer, he told himself. The bastard. Why did he have to treat him like that? Because you're nothing, he answered himself. How else did you expect him to treat you? Like you were someone he loved? Get over it.
"But...I love him," he said to the night air. Inside his head a voice laughed at that. He cares nothing for you, John. Forget him. He doesn't either of us.
"He kissed me. He made love to me."
He wanted to throw you off guard -- it's all been a joke to him. You let your guard down. You had sex with him as Carter, not as J.T.: outside the confines of the original arrangement. You did things with him you had said you wouldn't. Now that he doesn't have to pay for you, now that there's nothing you won't do, you're boring.
Where's the challenge for him now? After all, he is your boss -- he could order you on your knees whenever he wants, and what would you do about it? Go running to Anspaugh or Romano to complain? And what would you tell them? I've been working as a prostitute and Mark was one of my customers, but now he's discarded me. And you know what they'd do? They'd either haul your ass down to the psych ward or push you to your knees. If you're a whore for one man, you're a whore for all men, right?
"Mark cares about me."
In your dreams, John. If he cared about you, would he have treated you like dirt all night?
"He treated J.T. like that, not me. It was a game."
The voice laughed at him again. You know it wasn't a game. He meant it all. In his mind, there is no difference between you and me. Hasn't he said so before?
Carter found he couldn't argue with that. J.T. was right; Mark didn't see a difference between the two of them. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and shook his head -- what the hell was he doing having a conversation in his head with J.T.? J.T. wasn't a real person, he was just a imaginary persona. Something he could hide behind.
Am I? Are you sure about that, John?
The blaring of a car horn grabbed his attention and he realized that he had stopped in the middle of the street. He hurried to the other side and sat down on the curb, ignoring the shouts of the driver who passed him. Was he losing his mind on top of everything else? Or was he simply overtired? He had worked a long shift and there had not been time for a nap after work. He'd barely had enough time to get his errands done, then get over to the apartment to change before he had to go meet Mark. He rested his head on his knees, thinking that he just needed a Little more time to pull himself together, then he would finish the walk to the company apartment.
When Billy opened the door to let him in, Carter could see that he was happy to see him. Roger wasn't though. He hung up the telephone, then got to his feet and walked over to him, clearly angry.
"Bedroom. Now." Roger said, his teeth clenched. Then he walked down the hall to the bedroom.
"He's pretty angry about something, isn't he?" Carter asked Billy.
"Yeah, you could say that. Come on, I won't let you walk into the lion's den alone." Billy had been there when Roger had called Mark, so he knew that J.T. had been forced out by the customer at one. It was now three in the morning. Roger had been on the phone, calling every bar he knew and even a few police officers who were clients. He had never seen Roger get that worried about an employee, but then again, as far as he knew, no employee had ever been rejected by a trick, either.
Roger was standing with his hand on the door as Carter stepped into the room, closely followed by Billy.
"I didn't call you in here, Billy."
"I'm not leaving."
"Fine. But, keep your mouth shut." Carter cringed as Roger slammed the door. He had never seen Roger this angry before. He didn't like it when people were angry, especially when they were angry with him.
"Sit down."
"Roger, I..."
"I told you to sit down, now do it."
Carter sat down on the bed. He had finally gotten himself pulled together enough to tell Roger the bad news about what had happened with his trick. But, with Roger in such a lousy mood, he was half afraid to say anything at all.
"I called Mark's place to talk to you. You've never been on an overnight assignment before and I wanted to make sure that you were all right with it. Imagine my surprise when I found out that you weren't there."
"He kicked me out," Carter softly said.
"So he said. His choice, so there's no refund."
"Then why are you so upset? You're not out the money."
"Why am I so upset?" Roger yelled. He looked over at Billy. "Would you care to enlighten him as to why I'm so upset?"
"J.T., you know the rules. You leave a trick and you either get here or call within thirty minutes of leaving."
"I know that. I just...needed some time to think, that's all. And when I left, I missed the train and I didn't have enough money for a cab."
"If you had called, I would have sent someone to pick you up. You know that," Roger said. He was trying his best to get his temper under control. Yelling at J.T. wasn't going to make the situation any better. And, as he took the time to take a close look at his employee, he could see that all was not well.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Your customer said you left at one o'clock in the morning. It is now a little after three a.m. You needed to walk around for two hours, J.T.? How much thinking did you need to do?"
"A lot, all right?" Carter shouted back, getting to his feet. "No one owns my mind -- I can think whenever I want to."
Roger took a step back. He had never heard J.T. shout or get angry with anyone. Ever. "Look, let's sit down and you can tell me what happened."
"You called Mark; you said he told you what happened." Carter sat back down and Roger sat down on the other bed.
"He just said that he changed his mind. He didn't tell me what happened. Did he use force to throw you out? If he did, then he'll never hire another employee from me."
Carter laughed, his tone bitter. "He doesn't want any dirty whores in his bed, Roger, so you don't have to worry about that. He doesn't want a whore, period. He doesn't want...me."
Billy and Roger exchanged a worried look as J.T. sat there, staring off into space. Billy sat down on the bed beside him and gently put an arm around his shoulder.
"Aw man, I told you not to fall for him."
Carter rested his head against Billy's chest, unable to keep the tears away. "He said that I wasn't what he wanted. That J.T. wasn't what he wanted. He says he wants me, but then he -- he called me a whore. He's never done that. He doesn't think there's a difference between J.T. and me. I have to work with him every day, how can I do that knowing that he thinks I'm trash? I thought he was just acting out a fantasy, but he was serious. None of what we did meant anything to him. None of it."
Roger crossed the small space between the beds and sat on Carter's other side, pulling him to him and holding him as he cried. "You're just tired, J.T., that's all. Once you get some sleep, you'll be able to think about this a lot clearer."
Carter shook his head, then pushed Roger away. Roger's arms were not the arms he wanted holding him. He wanted Mark's arms. But, he would never feel Mark's arms around him again. Would never have him teasing him at work, asking what his name was as he hoped to get a kiss. It had all been a game to Mark, some type of a great diversion. Now that Mark felt he'd won -- now that Carter had let down all barriers -- he'd been tossed aside.
"Nothing will be different in the morning. Mark still won't want us -- me. He won't want me. He doesn't want me. I thought he did, but he doesn't. He..." Carter's voice faded away as memories of the times he had been with Mark swept over him. None of that would happen again. He didn't notice that Roger had left the bedroom, and he didn't notice when Roger returned either. He did feel Roger put a pill in his right hand and a glass of water in the other.
"I want you to take that. It's just a sleeping pill, nothing more. I just want to make sure that you get some uninterrupted rest for what's left of tonight."
Carter stared down at the pill, then popped it into his mouth and drank down all the water. He found himself wishing there had been more than one pill in his hand. Fifty or so would have been good. He wondered where Roger kept the sleeping pills? He had never seen any drugs at all in the medicine cabinet in the bathrooms, not even Tylenol.
While Carter had been taking the pill, Roger had gone to the dresser and searched until he found a pair of boxer shorts for him. He didn't think he'd be comfortable trying to sleep in jeans so tight that a person could read the date off a coin if it happened to be in the back pocket. He handed the boxers to Carter, then helped Billy pull the covers down on the other bed. When he turned back around, Carter was still sitting there, boxers in hand. He hadn't moved at all.
"Here, let's you into something more comfortable." Carter felt like a toy being dressed as Roger and Billy removed his clothing and then got the boxer shorts onto his body. He had wanted to help, but he was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open. He barely noticed when Roger gently tucked him in and said, "Get some sleep now. I promise that things won't look so bad in the morning."
Roger walked over to Billy. "Can you stay in here with him until he falls asleep? I don't think he needs to be alone."
"Sure."
"And Billy, everything that you heard in here and anything you might hear him say, you forget. Is that understood?"
Billy nodded. "You don't have to worry about me, Roger. I know who he is. Remember when I broke my arm last year? He's the doctor who treated me. I don't think he remembers me, but I remember him. You're not the only person around here who can keep a secret."
"Good."
"Are you going to call his trick and let him know that he showed up?"
"Why should I? He wanted him out, remember?" Roger could think of a few choice things he would like to say to Mark Greene right about now, but none of them included reassuring him that J.T. was all right.
"If he thinks that you're wasting his time, he'll tell you. I think you should call."
"Even after he called him a whore and treated him like shit?"
Billy shrugged. "We are whores, Roger. And maybe, just maybe, the trick had a reason for treating him that way. Call him."
Roger left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. Thankfully, Billy had been the only employee there when J.T. had returned, but he knew that the rest of the guys would be returning soon. Or calling. He sat at his desk, then reached for the phone. Billy was right. If the trick -- damn, Billy had him saying that now -- if the customer didn't care, then he would either cuss him out or hang up on him.
He dialed the number for Mark Greene's apartment. It was answered before the second ring.
"Hello?"
"It's Roger."
"Did he show up?"
"Yes. He's okay."
"Thank God for that." He sounded relieved, Roger thought.
"I just thought I'd let you know."
"Thank you."
Roger hung up. Okay, so Billy was right. The customer did care, but he hadn't hesitated to treat J.T. like shit earlier. Maybe the morning would make everything a little clearer. Perhaps by then, J.T. could give him an accounting of the evening without breaking down.
Mark heard the dial tone and realized that Roger had hung up. He slowly lowered the receiver, then rested his head in his hands. Carter was okay. He was safe. He suddenly felt weary as the last of the fear induced adrenaline faded from his body. But, then his anger returned as he thought about how the evening had ended up. Getting to his feet, he paced around his apartment, feeling furious with himself and Roger. He was angry with himself for letting Carter leave in the first place. He should have made him stay. And he was furious with Roger for acting as if Carter's welfare wasn't of any his business. Maybe Carter was still there with Roger. Roger had said the apartment wasn't that far away, so it wouldn't take him long to get there.
Mark grabbed the phone book, but he couldn't find a listing for "Companions, Inc." and he had no idea what Roger's last name was, so he couldn't look him up. There had to be a way to find the address. There just had to be a way. Desperate, he called information, asking if he could get an address for someone if he had the telephone number. The operator assured him that he could, provided it wasn't an unpublished number. He quickly gave her the number for Companions, Inc., then held his breath as she looked up the information -- it had to be a regular number. Please let it be a regular number. The operator came back on the line with the address, she even knew the apartment number. He thanked her, then rushed out, hoping that Carter hadn't left. The apartment building was only ten minutes away, so Mark made good time getting there. He parked the van, then glanced up. The operator had said the apartment number was 310, and from the street he could only see one set of windows on the third floor which still had lights showing. That had to be the place.
The last of the guys had checked in for the night. Several of them were sprawled on the couch, a few were having a late night snack in the dining room. All of them were quiet. Roger had briefly told them that J.T. had had a bad experience with a customer, but that he was fine and now asleep. He wanted him to stay that way. They all liked J.T., so they were keeping as quiet as possible. When the doorbell rang, Roger answered it with a frown, knowing it wasn't one of his employees. He had called back to let the cops he had out looking for J.T. know that he had shown up, so it wasn't one of them. Hopefully, it wasn't a vice squad cop, either. He had no idea who the tall, bespectacled, skinny man was who was standing in the hallway looking nervous. Obviously not a cop though.
"Yeah?"
"I'm looking for J.T."
Roger instantly recognized the voice as belonging to Mark Greene -- the most unpopular customer of the evening.
"He's not available for you anymore, Mark. Good night."
Roger tried to shut the door, but Mark stuck his foot in the way. "I need to see him, Roger. I have to talk to him."
"I think you've said more than enough to him." Roger pushed hard on the door, liking the look of pain that shot across Mark's face as his foot was slowly crushed.
"Is this guy giving you any trouble, boss?" Kyle asked as he got up off the couch and walked over to the door. Kyle was one of the biggest men Roger had ever seen off of a football field. He was six and half feet tall, and well over two hundred pounds of muscle. He was surprisingly popular with customers. He was also handy to have around when Roger needed muscle to back him up. Like now.
"He's trying to see J.T."
Kyle's frown deepened into an angry look and Mark could swear that the larger man was growling at him. "You the trick who kicked him out?" Word had traveled fast.
"I need to talk to him."
"You hurt him." The big man's voice left no doubt in Mark's mind that anyone guilty of upsetting J.T. was deserving of severe punishment.
"I didn't mean to hurt him, but I do need to talk to him. I have to explain things to him."
"Boss?" Kyle looked at Roger, awaiting his instructions. Roger reluctantly opened the door.
"I'll see if he's awake. And if he is awake, then I'll see if he wants to see you. If he doesn't, then you'll leave." Roger knew that the sleeping pill had to have taken effect by now. There was no chance at all that J.T. was still awake.
Mark stepped into the apartment, feeling very much like an insect under a microscope. Between the dining room and the living room, he counted six men, all of whom looked as if they wanted to thrash him. The big guy who wanted to severely hurt him was still at his side, looming over him. Mark was sure that if Roger returned from wherever he went and said that Mark had to leave, then the incredible hulk would make sure he left -- probably by the window and not the door. Carter might insist that J.T. and he were two different entities, but Mark knew that there were a lot of people at the hospital who would do all in their power to protect Carter from serious harm and these guys obviously felt the same way about him. Or about J.T. Whichever.
Roger returned to the living room, a smirk on his face. "He's still asleep."
He'll wake up. I'd like to stay here until then. I really do have to talk to him."
"I'm not too thrilled with what you've already said to him. You're willing to shell out thousands of dollars to be able to do whatever you want with him and then you throw him out because he's a...what was it?...'dirty whore'? You've got some nerve there."
Mark felt the hostility in the air rise by about fifty percent when Roger said that.
"You called J.T. that?" the big man asked, his voice sounding incredulous. He was shocked that someone would say something so vicious to J.T.
"I...I didn't mean it. I need to explain things to him. I can stay here until he wakes up."
Roger eyed him coldly. "Suit yourself. That might be a long wait though. I gave him a sleeping pill."
"You did what?" Mark had believed Carter when he had told him that Roger didn't allow drug use and that he looked out for his employees. And now Roger was telling him that he gave Carter a sleeping pill? "Why?"
"So he could sleep, why else do people take sleeping pills?" Roger sat down at his desk, then swiveled his chair around to address his other employees. "I think it's about time for you guys to head on home."
With a lot of grumbling, the men left. Kyle loomed over Mark menacingly. "If J.T. tells me that you upset him any more, then your ass is mine."
Mark didn't doubt it for a minute.
Once the last guy was gone, Roger inclined his head toward the couch. Mark took that to mean that he had been invited to sit down.
"Why did you give him a sleeping pill?" Mark asked again.
"I've never had one of my employees as upset as he was when he finally got around to telling me what had happened with you. He was rambling, not making much sense. He was very confused and having a difficult time keeping it straight on whether he was supposed to be J.T. talking or John Carter talking."
"You know his name?" Mark was surprised.
"Of course I know his name. I did hire him, remember? I know a lot of things, Doctor Greene." He smiled at Mark's shocked look. Mark knew that Roger would have his last name, after all, he had given that to him when he gave him his credit card number. Still, he had no idea how the man knew he was a doctor. Even when Roger had called him at the hospital, he had asked for Mark Greene and not Doctor Greene. Carter must have told him that he was a doctor.
"How did you know that?"
"I told you, I know a lot of things. I make it my business to know things."
"Why? So you can blackmail people?"
Roger shook his head. "No. So I can do my best to protect the people who work for me. He loves you. That made you dangerous for my business. And if you didn't return his feelings, made you dangerous to him as well. I can see that I was right to be worried. He's refused to work for me since he's started seeing you off-duty, and even insisted that your money be refunded for all your previous appointments. Charged them to his own credit card instead. He even stopped in tonight to make sure he was charged, rather than you. Did you know that?"
Stunned, Mark leaned back against the cushions. "If I had realized everything, and how upset he was, I never would have let him leave."
"Let him leave? You forced him to leave, remember?"
"I didn't kick John Carter out. I kicked J.T. out."
"And according to him, in your eyes, John Carter and J.T. are one and the same. There is no difference. He's convinced that your attitude toward J.T. and the fact you repeatedly called him a whore - treated him with contempt -- means that you feel that way about John Carter."
Mark shook his head. "No. I tried to explain that to him, but he wouldn't listen. That's why I tracked him down. I have to try to get him to understand that I don't think that way about him -- about Carter. I was trying to get him to see that he deserves so much better than being treated as if he's an object to be used to satisfy a stranger's sexual urges."
"You never hesitated to use him to satisfy your own."
"That's not true. When he showed up the first night at the door of that hotel room, I thought it was a mistake. When he told me that I was expecting him, I didn't know what to think. But, as things got...intense, I began to realize that I had been wanting him for a long time. Only he started throwing that "J.T." crap at me. That's not psychologically healthy for him."
"That's true enough. A lot of the guys use aliases with the customers. None of them take it to the extreme that John does."
"You call him John so easily, as if you've known him for a long time."
"I have."
"Can you tell me why he's doing this?"
Roger shook his head. "I have no idea. I don't ask them why they want to work for me. I just ask them what they're willing to do and what they don't want to do. I have my theories, but I've never asked him his reasons and he's never volunteered to share them with me. What about you? Haven't you asked him?"
"He won't give me a real answer. How long has he been working for you?"
"Which time around? This is the second time he's worked for me."
That took Mark aback. He was having a difficult enough time dealing with the fact that Carter was presently working as a male prostitute. It was mind-boggling to think that this was the second time he had been employed doing that. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer. But, he was finding out a hell of a lot more from Roger than he had ever learned from Carter, so he figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to ask about both times.
"The first time."
"Just a few months. He was introduced to me as a prospective employee by a former employee. He worked out well and could have made a lot of money if he'd stayed on my payroll. But he chose not to. At the time he quit, he told me that he had all he needed and he thanked me for giving him the chance to get back on his feet again."
Mark slowly nodded. That had to have been when Carter was pulling his second internship and had lost his trust fund. He had been knocked down from not wanting for anything to having to exist on freeze-dried oriental noodles. So his story about working because he had wanted money wasn't exactly a lie after all. Carter had just omitted the fact that it had been years ago. "And this time?"
"He's been working for me since late March."
That fit with what Carter had told him. That had been when Chase Carter had died.
Mark found himself shaking his head. "I don't understand."
"Maybe he doesn't understand either," Roger replied. "He showed up here one afternoon, asking if I was hiring. I asked him if he was sure he wanted to work for me again. He seemed desperate this time around, so I hired him, not only because I knew he was good, but because I was a little concerned that if I didn't, then he would end up working for someone else. Someone who wouldn't give a damn about his conditions - including not being penetrated by another man."
"I heard that you were probably the only pimp in Chicago who would let an employee get by with saying that. That you would enforce it."
"And I do. If my guys are happy and feeling secure in their jobs, then they'll do their jobs better, which in turn created more business. That's all there is behind it, Mark. Simple human greed."
"What about this J.T. bit? Was he doing that when he worked for you before?"
Roger nodded. "Yeah, he was. His friend -- the guy who had once worked for me -- suggested it as a way for John to be able to relax enough to do the job. It worked for him. And back then, he wasn't nearly as...fanatical about J.T. being separate as he is now."
"It's not healthy," Mark said.
"I agree. It's not. But, then again, I have a lot of guys working for me who have little quirks that would be considered unhealthy, Mark. I can't fire them all. All I can do is keep an eye on them. I have a lot of safety precautions in place, and still my guys sometimes end up getting hurt. Sometimes it's on purpose, and sometimes, it's by accident. Sometimes it's something they seek out."
"Like S&M? I've seen the results of that on Carter. He was pretty badly injured."
"That wasn't supposed to happen. That was a case of him getting hurt by accident. His customers had too much to drink and got carried away. Not that those factors excuse what they did. They'll never rent one of my guys again. As a matter of fact, as a result of that and another recent accident, I decided that my guys will no longer service customers who are looking for S&M in any way, shape or form."
"You can afford to ban customers?"
Roger grinned. "Oh yes. And I don't hesitate to ban customers who hurt my guys. In any way. That's why I said that you'll never have J.T. again. Not that you want him anyway."
"I've never stopped wanting Carter."
"So you say. But, he doesn't believe that, and right now, that's what's important, isn't it?"
Before Mark could reply, another man entered the living room.
"He's sound asleep, so I was thinking of turning in."
"Good idea. I'll be right with you, Billy."
The man nodded, then walked out.
"You can sleep on the couch. There's a bathroom down the hallway; first door on the left. You'll find extra toothbrushes in the cabinet."
"What about a pillow and blankets? Or am I asking for too much?"
"Hall closet." Roger got to his feet. "Good night." He headed down the hallway and Mark could hear a door open and close. His mind was about to burst from all that Roger had told him, but none of it brought him any closer to understanding Carter and why he was doing this. But, more than ever, he knew that they needed to talk.
He found the bathroom and got ready for bed. When he stepped back into the hallway to look for the linen closet, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of two people having sex coming from behind the closed door at the end of the hallway. So that was how things were between Roger and that Billy guy. Had Roger ever tried anything with Carter? He hoped not. Thinking of Carter made him wonder which door led to the room where Carter was sleeping? It certainly wouldn't hurt if he looked in on him, would it?
He lucked out when the first door he opened ended up being the one for the bedroom. He made his way over to the second twin bed where Carter lay sleeping. When he saw Carter's tear stained face, he felt his chest tighten. He had not wanted to hurt him this way. All he wanted was to make Carter realize his own worth, and to make sure Carter remained solely his.
He eyed the other bed, then figured that it wouldn't matter if he slept in here. That way, if Carter should need him during the night, he would be nearby. He stripped down to his underwear, then climbed into the bed. He wished he had the nerve to sleep in the same bed with Carter, to hold him. But, he didn't think that would go over well with Carter or Roger. Or that big guy Kyle. It was almost tempting to risk being beaten if he could feel Carter breathing beside him. Almost. He took one last long look at Carter, then put his glasses on the nightstand and lay down.
He decided to abandon caution, and got out of that bed and slid into bed beside Carter. Since it was a twin bed, there wasn't a lot of room, but once he got himself settled behind Carter, spooning their bodies together, it was better. He held Carter tightly against his chest, wishing that he could go back and change what he had said and done tonight. Wishing he could go back in time and change a lot of things. Sleep was a long time coming.