Ch. 11 – Blind Spot

Chapter Eleven – Blind Spot

Hudson could say that he had expected this to happen, as he entered Watkins's office and was asked to close the door after him. Jackie was there already, with the look of a kicked dog on his face, and stole a glance at him, one filled with pleas of being let off the hook as the master looked elsewhere for another victim. Unlike him, Hudson held his back straight and nodded at Watkins, who sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him, while his cold eyes inspected his guests with a sort of cruelty that left little room to guess why they had been summoned there.

"What's going on?" he asked directly after the formal greetings.

Watkins stared at him for a couple more moments. "Jackie here is telling me an interesting story. One in which you helped my debut number for a new club I've been working on for months now run away."

"You're talking about Jasper." Hudson frowned a smidge, as if he couldn't for the world imagine what Watkins was upset about. "He had a family emergency."

"So I heard," Watkins replied. He leaned back in his chair and inspected Hudson with his empty eyes, without showing any sign that he believed what he had heard about Jasper's family emergency. 

It didn't matter. The boss in charge of those shady clubs had no proof, although Hudson could have done without drawing the scumbag's attention to himself in that manner. Given the circumstances, he had made his choice and had no regrets. As long as it meant that Jasper was safe, he'd see about the rest with the usual caution he used in his dealings as an undercover detective.

He waited. Jackie was sitting, his eyes on the floor, although he kept his legs spread, his hands linked over his chest, elbows firmly pressed against the arms of the chair, trying to assume a posture that told the world that he was on top of things. Watkins hadn't invited him to sit, so he remained standing, displaying only faint signs of irritation. At the same time, he was very interested in what Watkins would say next.

"I am quite disappointed in both of you. I would have liked to help poor Jasper in these trying times myself."

No shit. Hudson schooled his features into an expression of pleased surprise at Watkins's magnanimity. "I thought we shouldn't bother you with something so trivial. You are, after all, a very busy man, and Jasper is just one of the many models under your wing." He upped the ante and offered a crooked smile. "Consider it a professional flaw, boss, but I didn't think his leaving would matter. He's not that much of a looker if you ask me."

"I'm not asking you, Mr. Vegas," Watkins said and frowned. Something was bothering the fucker, and his brain was surely turning Hudson's words on all sides while he took his time to reply. "In the future, I would appreciate if you tell me you're planning to make my next star disappear."

"Disappear?" Hudson quirked an eyebrow, feigning surprise once more. "He'd just gone home. I'm sure he'll be back for the big opening you have in mind if the timeline aligns."

"Well," Watkins said and grimaced in a weird way that combined pain with annoyance, as well as sort of a perverse pleasure, "I'd say that he disappeared, seeing how he's gone completely incommunicado. He's not answering his phone, and the device seems to be out of service, even." He turned his chair around and took in the view from his window. It wasn't much, since it looked out onto a back alley, and across from it, onlookers could see a redbrick building and a fire escape zigzagging its façade. "It looks to me like the boy made fools out of both of you, and now I have to deal with the consequences."

"He was really crying, boss," Jackie said in a pleading voice. "His momma--"

"Quiet," Watkins ordered without turning his chair. 

Hudson preferred it when he could examine his opponent's face at length while having a conversation, but this new boss of his wasn't some schmuck from the street. He wasn't some rat; no, he was a different creature altogether, and Hudson couldn't help a prickling apprehension running like an electric eel down his spine.

Jackie looked down again, even more sullen than before. He definitely felt bad about getting chastised like this in front of the newcomer. There was no more glance of hope toward Hudson, either. The chances were that Jackie was already blaming him for this falling from his master's good graces. That was something Hudson could deal with. But later. Now, his entire attention was on Watkins and what his next course of action for him – and probably, Jackie – would be.

"You will both have to do some bottom work for a while," Watkins decided.

Hudson frowned, this time, for himself. Bottom work could mean anything. Could it be that he was being sent into the thick of things so fast? No, that couldn't be possible. Watkins wasn't insane to let a stranger like him see the true face of his business unless he was suspecting him and laying a careful trap. Of what Watkins could be suspecting him was uncertain, but the Jasper episode had definitely earned him no points.

"But, boss--" Jackie whined.

"Do you like your job, Jackie?" Watkins addressed the young man, turning his chair suddenly.

Jackie made himself little. The dynamic between the two had certain undercurrents. Hudson stashed that information away for further perusal. On the surface, Jackie looked like not the brightest tool in the shed, but looks could be deceiving, as he well knew from experience. And Watkins called him by his first name, like everyone else. Hudson couldn't help noticing a certain degree of intimacy between the two. 

"Yeah, boss, I like it a lot," Jackie said defensively.

"Then, starting tonight, you'll play bodyguards at Twinlight. Play is a manner of speaking. You'll break up fights, you'll see about throwing out drunkards, and so on. And I don't want to hear a peep from you, Jackie. Mr. Vegas, do you have anything to add?"

"No, boss." Hudson shrugged as if he didn't mind the demotion and was taking everything in stride. "We'll know better next time."

"Of course, you will." The derision was out there, in the open. Watkins didn't give a rat's ass about either of them, apparently. Hudson had to play the fool and just take it like it was, his being bundled with Jackie like two schmucks. "Dismissed."

***

Hudson waited until they were outside for Jackie to speak, steeling himself for the reproach that would soon follow. As little as he thought of Jackie's intelligence, it wasn't like him to underestimate people. In the web of deceit and shadows Twinlight and its owners existed in, Jackie had more information than he did. Keeping on the good side of the guy would be nice.

However, that wasn't what happened as soon as they were well out of earshot.

"Man," Jackie began complaining, "the boss really ripped me a new one about Jasper. I tell you, you were lucky." He patted Hudson on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. "He didn't yell at you like he yelled at me."

"I didn't think he is the kind to yell at anyone."

"He yells at me for sure," Jackie replied and then let out a sigh so deep that it seemed to have emerged from the depths of his soul. 

Again, the detective in him found that odd enough to require further examination. "Why is that?" Hudson asked, but as if he did it out of politeness and nothing else. 

Jackie shrugged. "He cares or something."

Nothing came after that simple admission. There was definitely something there. "Since you're the veteran here," he said as means to tickle Jackie's vanity, "what's this bottom work all about?"

"Exactly what the boss said," Jackie replied promptly and puffed out his chest. "We'll have to keep our eyes on the customers and frisk anyone who's out of line."

"Frisk? Really?"

"Hey, a lot of good looking dudes come to the club each night. We might get lucky." Jackie wiggled his eyebrows with a playful look in his green eyes.

"I thought you preferred models," Hudson reminded him. 

"Yeah, but, you know, those guys are fussy. And, anyway, I'm just playing. I have my eyes on a real prize." Jackie nodded and smiled, while his eyes became unfocused. "I mean, I'm not some nice guy to bring home to momma, but for this dude, I'd go the whole nine yards." He gestured widely to emphasize his words. 

"What dude is that? Better than your models?" Hudson teased and offered Jackie a lopsided grin.

Jackie sighed again and gave Hudson a look full of suffering. "He's definitely better. He's like, I don't know, man, chef's kiss. He dresses like a nice boy, he behaves like a nice boy, he always talks so politely. Did I mention? He's frigging beautiful, but you know, not like the usual, but like… I don't know, a bit odd, but in a good way?"

Hudson felt his face freezing in that forced friendly grin. "What way is that?"

Jackie shrugged. "Don't ask me for words. You know, like he's high class. These dudes who take their clothes off at Twinlight, they're basically like porn actors. But this guy is like a model for some fashion brand. I mean, he's thin just like supermodels, and he's… strange, I think, especially with that eye--"

"Eye? Just one?" Gradually, Hudson sank his fingernails into his right palm to stop himself from grabbing Jackie by the throat.

"Yeah. He wears his hair like this, over one eye," Jackie explained. "But it gives him a mysterious air, you know? Ah, man, I'm totally in love."

"Does this odd-looking guy have a name?" Hudson carefully chose the last nail to hammer into Jackie's coffin. 

"Even his name is weird. I mean, who the hell calls their kid Otis nowadays?" Jackie laughed and then his eyes fell on Hudson, suddenly filling with concern. "Hey, man, are you all right?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" He was well aware his voice carried with it a tension that hadn't been there before. 

"You're a bit pale. Is it something you ate?"

Hudson unclenched his fist, and with it, the frozen expression on his face. "I doubt it. Maybe I was nervous the boss was going to yell at me, too," he offered a joke as explanation.

"It could also be crappy food," Jackie continued. "I should take you to the restaurant where Otis works. They have really good food. Good Bits, they're called. Really delish, I'm telling you."

The asshole even knew where Otis worked. He was going there to eat, often most probably, and laying his traps to catch the beautiful young man. Hudson fought himself for another moment in an effort to regain his nonchalance. That was one more reason to keep his eyes on Jackie. 

Hudson had no use for fate and looking for meaning in the coincidences in his life. But the way his lovely neighbor kept popping up everywhere he looked, especially where his investigation of the human trafficking ring was concerned, made him almost believe there was such thing as destiny.

***

He touched his collar, overly conscious of the choker underneath that he'd had gone through great trouble to hide from view. Nonetheless, he liked its presence there, reminding him of all those moments he had spent with Hudson a few nights ago. It was enough to recall the touch of those calloused fingertips, moving ever so slowly across his skin, and he would shiver, caught in a web of pleasant sensations, strong as a safety net.

"Otis!"

He jumped at the sound of his name and turned toward Missy with a guilty expression on his face. "Yes?"

"Sorry, did I startle you?" Missy touched his elbow lightly. "I've been calling you for like two minutes."

And he had been daydreaming, a very interesting activity but which was the opposite of what he was required to do while awake, which was to pay attention to his surroundings all the time. "I apologize," he said primly. "It won't happen again."

"Come on, man, stop acting so serious," Missy said and patted him on the arm. "I wanted to tell you something." She leaned forward, and her voice dropped to a whisper. After looking around as if she were expecting someone to jump them from behind the swinging doors to the kitchen, she began. "Mr. Smith is going to hand out some bonuses this week. And I've heard someone's name being mentioned." Her smile broadened. 

"Whose name?" Otis asked. He would congratulate that member of the personnel once the bonuses were handed out by the manager.

Missy stared at him for a few moments, and then burst into laughter. "You're such a straight shooter, Otis, I love you. There's not one drop of ill will in you, is there?"

Those were nice words that warmed his soul. People believed nice things of him, like Missy and Hudson, and even Jackie, despite his greasy hair. 

"It is you," Missy added and hugged him. "He's going to give you the biggest bonus this month because you've worked hard, and customers are in love with you."

He didn't know what to say, his heart felt so overwhelmed all of a sudden. He had been worrying constantly about bills and whatnot lately, and there had been no additions made to the glass figurine collection on his shelf, because he didn't know if he could afford both a new piece and food at the same time. Things had been looking up since Mr. Smith had promoted him to waiting on tables, and even more. He was so happy he couldn't put it into words.

"You deserve it, and I don't want to hear a word from you," Missy said and her red mane jiggled on her head, making him smile. "The question is… how are we going to celebrate? Another night out?"

"I can't go to clubs because I'm at risk of hooking up," Otis explained warily. He couldn't openly tell Missy about his arrangement with Hudson, who was giving him dating advice.

"Oh, such dreadful risks." Missy laughed. "You're a relationship type of guy, I bet. But we could have some fun without hooking up. Actually, it takes a lot of the pressure off I usually feel when I go to such places. It's like everyone expects you to hook up when all you want is to have some fun."

Otis thought back over what Hudson said about Jackie. However, Missy was right. They could have fun without hooking up, or feeling pressured into it. Maybe they could try some other venue for fun? He didn't know what could be more entertaining for Missy than going to a club and dancing there with frantic moves. The best course of action, as grandma had always said, was to ask the questions you wanted answers for.

"Besides drinking and dancing, what could we do for fun? What do you like?"

Missy adopted a thinking pose, crossing her arms and rubbing her chin in thought. "Hmm, you know what, Otis? You're right. We should try other things. Do you have something you've always wanted to do?"

Otis pondered for a moment. There were so many things he wanted to try, actually. "Maybe wall climbing?" he said hesitantly.

Missy looked at him strangely. "I thought you wouldn't want to try any activity that involved sweating ever. I don't even think you sweat." To make a point, she leaned forward and sniffed him. "Yeah, you always smell great."

Overly conscious of the choker he was wearing, Otis took a step back, taking Missy by surprise.

"You don't like people getting close, right?" Missy asked. 

"It's not that," Otis protested.

"It's fine, really. I'm too touchy-feely," she added, but Otis could say that she was no longer her usually happy self. 

"It's not that," Otis repeated, not knowing how to repair the situation. He was bad at making friends as he was, and keeping the few he had was essential. 

Missy put her hands up. "You're way too nice, Otis. It's all right, and I shouldn't have pushed myself on you like this."

He was losing her. Yes, that was going on, and he had no idea how to stop it. So, he did the only thing that crossed his mind to prevent a disaster ending in a broken friendship. "I have this," he said and opened the first two buttons of his shirt.

Missy blinked and her eyes grew wide. "That's so pretty, Otis. I mean, it's a bit, how should I say, eccentric to wear that kind of thing at work but, boy, it looks great on you."

"It does?" That made him so happy. Careful that no one else saw it, he buttoned himself up. "My neighbor gave it to me."

Missy grinned wildly and put a hand on her hip. "For real? You two are at that stage where he's collaring you? Man, you're a firecracker." She made a move to slap his arm but thought better of it at the last moment.

That was the thing that needed repairing. Otis took Missy's arm and slapped his arm with her hand, making her laugh again. "There. I'm fine with you touching me," he said with satisfaction.

"Well, that's a relief, because I want to pinch these cheeks." Missy did what she said and caught his skin between her fingers, pulling slightly. "Here I thought that you were a shy dude, who can barely find the guts to install a dating app on his phone, and you're playing the hard way with your sexy neighbor."

Playing wasn't the right word, but Otis didn't wish to contradict her. He wanted to keep his lessons with Hudson a secret from the world. A secret felt good to have; like his glass figurines, it belonged only to him, and that mattered the most. Why, he didn't care to explore at the moment.

"So, when are we going wall-climbing?" Missy asked.

"We are?"

"Why not? I want to try new things, too, but most of the time I get too lazy or I talk myself out of them. As you can imagine, I end up doing the same old things and complaining that nothing changes."

"Do you have to do new things so that you can change?" Otis asked, interested in what Missy thought about that. His grandma had always insisted that he should try new things, things that young people did, but he'd felt ill-equipped to deal with such challenges. Now, he regretted not having had more guts to try them. Nonetheless, he was still young, at twenty-two, and there was enough time to do all the things that caught his interest, now that he was bound to receive a little fortune.

"Definitely," Missy confirmed. "How about we go next weekend?"

"After we get the bonus."

"Yeah. It's a deal, partner."

He shook Missy's hand formally and didn't protest in the slightest when she pulled him into a hug. Maybe she thought she was too touchy-feely, but he didn't think that was a problem between them. He preferred her that way.

***

Hudson was busy going over and over the details of the meeting with Watkins, and the man's attitude toward Jackie. Without a doubt, the young fellow was not the norm for Twinlight bouncers, since he didn't have the brawn, nor their sullen attitude. However, that wasn't his role in the organization, right? He had just been demoted to it, and with great suffering on his part, as Jackie had insisted on reminding him repeatedly after they had left the big boss's office.

Every investigation tended to be a puzzle. There were events and people, connected or not, which he needed to examine and establish how, why, or if they were related. His small apartment wasn't suitable for a crime board, but he had it all in his head and even took pride in keeping track of many various elements of an ongoing investigation like no one else could. His captain was crazy about him for it, or so his colleagues liked to gossip. Being the teacher's pet had never been among his life goals, but now that he was, he believed he had earned that place, fair and square.

Jackie didn't fit the picture somehow, and it unnerved him that he didn't see how he did fit. Watkins preferred his employees to be quiet, efficient, and nondescript as far as their physical aspects went – beyond the muscles required for the job – that regular people would have a tough time picking them out of a lineup. 

And then, there was Jackie, loud, obnoxious, boastful, not so bright, and yet he had his place under Watkins's skin. That was a matter worth investigating. Could it be that they were related? What had Jackie said? That Watkins cared or something? Hudson zeroed in on that information. 

Could it be that Jackie was Watkins's blind spot? The man had left Jasper, the unfortunate boy, in Jackie's care, and the braggart had lost the centerpiece for Watkins's gruesome business venture's debut without asking too many questions. Hudson had been satisfied with Jackie's lack of brains over it, but there was more to it and he needed to investigate. 

Also, save for some yelling and a demotion that would probably not last too long, Jackie hadn't suffered any other consequences for letting Jasper 'run away'. But if Jackie was, indeed, Watkins's blind spot, how had that come to be?

Someone was knocking energetically on his door. Hudson was working less on taking pictures for his website, now that he was gainfully employed, but some guys still dropped by from time to time. Even so, he moved toward the door carefully and looked through the peephole. A smile quirked his lips when he saw Otis on the other side. He appeared to have his arms full and shifted a box from one arm to the other to knock again.

Hudson opened the door before his cute neighbor could do that. 

"Hello," Otis said politely. "I am here to bring you a gift."

Hudson took the box from his neighbor's hands and stared at the picture and label on the side. "A crockpot?"

"Yes. I got two at a discount," Otis announced proudly. "A really good discount," he added and leaned forward while raising his eyebrow in an all-knowing expression like an old lady at the market striking the biggest bargain of her life to date.

"That's nice of you. But why?" Hudson asked.

Otis's pretty face lit up. "I got a bonus at work. It's confidential and I can't say anything about it, although Missy knows exactly how much I got, and I know how much she got, but we're not supposed to make other people feel bad that they didn't get as much."

Hudson fought hard not to laugh at Otis's considerate logic and stepped aside. "Come in. Also, what I meant to say, is why give me a gift? And why a crockpot, of all things?"

Otis seemed on top of his game today. He appeared quite bold as he took the box from Hudson's hands and walked into the small kitchen. "It is perfect for the little space you have. And for mine, although I had to find new places for other things to accommodate it. You can make all kinds of food with it." He took it upon himself to install the crockpot neatly on the counter. Then, he turned toward Hudson, his face all a smile. "Now you can eat a lot of healthy foods, like fork-tender roasts and butternut squash soup. It is an excellent addition to any kitchen--"

"Okay, okay," Hudson stopped him before Otis ended up reciting all the marketing materials he must have studied at length – given his propensity for being as exact and thorough as someone a lot older than his twenty-two years of age. "Thank you for your thoughtful gift. The thing is, I don't have a lot of time to cook."

That seemed to deflate Otis considerably. "You don't like it. You hate it."

Hudson felt like the biggest asshole in the universe. "No, no. Come on, don't say that. It's just that it was your hard-earned money you spent on this. Why would you spend it on me?"

Otis worried his bottom lip before giving the answer. "Because you help me. And for free, on top of everything else."

"And nothing in the world is really free?" Hudson asked while walking closer to his guest. He wanted to comfort Otis, and that need was strong in him. 

"I don't mean it like that. I just wanted to do something nice for you, but it looks like I was off the mark, and I apologize. Maybe I should have gotten you that moon lamp."

Hudson laughed softly. "You know what? A crockpot was just the thing I needed without knowing I needed it. Just don't scold me when you come around and you find it unused."

"Can I cook for you?" Otis asked bluntly. "Sorry. May I cook for you?"

It was so easy to fall for this great guy. Damn the freaking timing. Destiny, fate, whatever that was called in his case, had the funniest sense of humor. Indulging in this pretty man, with all his quirkiness and good heart, should have been on top of a list of forbidden things for him. And yet, he found himself opening his mouth and saying the most incredible words in his personal history. "I'd love it if you cooked for me."

Otis was so happy, his only visible eye shining and his entire face an expression of pure joy that Hudson wanted to get his camera quickly and immortalize that moment forever. 

"These things come with recipes, and they all sound so good," Otis continued to blabber away. "I will cut all the ingredients at my place, and then I can come with them and put them in your crockpot."

"Hmm, wouldn't it be easier if you just brought me the final result?"

Otis's brows furrowed in thought. "But then I made a mistake by getting two crockpots. But if I only got one, then I wouldn't have gotten the discount--"

Hudson stopped another convoluted budgeting tirade by taking Otis in his arms and kissing his furrowed brow. "I'm not hungry right now, so you can sleep on it."

"Good. I will do that," Otis promised, his earlier determination appearing to melt slowly.

Hudson brushed away the bangs obscuring the hidden eye and kissed the other brow, too. Otis squirmed a little and then looked up at him, his lips parted, his eyes even shinier. Suddenly, he blurted out, "I wore the choker you gave me at work."

"You did?" Hudson licked his lips. Otis smelled so nice, he felt his throat going dry just from standing so close to him. He wanted to devour this beautiful young man, crockpots and recipes be damned. And how nice was that? A stranger buying him a gift because he was that nice a person.

Such behavior needed some proper rewarding. Hudson took Otis by the hand and pulled him toward the main room. "How about showing me?"

***

So, maybe he had been off the mark with the crockpot, and Hudson, who was a very busy man, couldn't be bothered to cut vegetables and turn them into edible things, but in the end, it seemed that everything was working out. Otis was happy for it and tried to avoid reading too much into the way Hudson pulled him along toward the sofa he now knew so well. 

He found himself feeling incredibly shy at his earlier admission of having worn the choker to work. Was that too bold of him? But he had promised Hudson he'd do that, so there was no reason for him to worry about having gone too far. 

Hudson sat across from him and left him alone on the sofa. His shyness returned, and he looked around, his eyes drawn again to the paraphernalia on the wall. The sight of a new leash made him do a double take. That hadn't been there; he was sure of it. He always tried not to forget things. 

"Well," Hudson's voice was deep and rough, "are you going to show me or not?"

Otis touched the first button, a slight tremor in his fingers. He had been so audacious showing it to Missy, so why did he feel like this now? He hardly had any explanation for it. But Hudson was there. He was his teacher. Maybe he'd know. "I don't think I can," he whispered.

Hudson misunderstood and came closer. He began unbuttoning Otis's shirt slowly. Their eyes met as the rough yet gentle hands continued their descent, one button after the other. "You really did wear your choker." 

"I did."

"How did it feel?"

"Nice. A little naughty," Otis confessed in a low whisper. 

"Naughty and nice. How come you're all that?" Hudson asked.

They were so close, they could smell each other. And Hudson had such a manly, dizzying smell about him, and not because of the personal grooming products he probably used. No, there was something unique about his smell, and Otis was sure he would be able to identify it from a thousand or more. "I don't know," he replied in all honesty.

"I think I do."

"Can you tell me?" Otis closed his eyes as Hudson's lips brushed lightly over his.

"It's simply how you are. Still waters."

"Run deep," Otis completed the old adage. "Is that new leash for me?" Please, say yes.

"You know the rules, Otis. Say that you want it, and it's yours."

Could it be that easy? "Yes, I want it. Please, give it to me."

TBC