Evidently, Harlan didn't feel guilty at all. Harlan had finished his egg and he was standing near the sofa, talking to the guy with the darkest hair, with his open palm stretched out. "That will be one thousand dollars, guys."
They reached into their pockets and pulled out wads of wrinkled cash. They'd sobered up enough by then to keep from looking in Treston's direction. He didn't mind the way they ignored him, even though they'd just done the most intimate things one human being can do to another. Treston had been through this before, too, with men, especially the so-called straight men. He knew they felt even guiltier than he did and he found this mildly entertaining in a way he never would have admitted aloud to anyone. The main reason he enjoyed this was because he knew although they wouldn't look at him right now, if he ran into any one of them a week from now in the pink dress and the pink high heels, he could get them to do anything he wanted them to do and they would have forgotten all about their guilt. He'd learned something else about men with strong, private needs: they always come back for more.
As Treston turned to head back to the bathroom so he could remove the pink lace thong he'd messed up, he overheard Harlan say, "Hold on. This is only eight hundred and fourteen. Where's the rest, buddy?"
Treston turned toward the sofa and saw Harlan shaking his fist in the dark-haired guy's face. "You little fuckers got what you came here for. Now pay the fuck up," Harlan said.
"It's all we have," said the dark-haired guy. "I swear. I thought I had more but I don't."
Harlan pointed to his wrist and said, "Give me your watches."
The guy with the curved dick and receding hairline seemed stunned. He shrugged and said, "This watch was an early graduation gift from my mom."
"I don't fucking care if it was a gift from the fucking pope," Harlan said. "Hand it over."
This tugged at Treston's heart and he stepped forward. He spoke in a soft tone and said, "Harlan, let them go. If that's all they have it's fine. I believe them." He couldn't take a watch someone's mom had given him.
Harlan threw the wrinkled cash they'd given him onto the floor and he walked over to where Treston was standing. He grabbed Treston by the back of the neck, gritted his teeth, and said, "You shut the fuck up, whore. I'm the one in charge here and these little fuckers aren't going anywhere unless they pay up. I told them I'd get them the best tranny ass in town and I did. Now it's their turn."
When Harlan used the word tranny, Treston's stomach tightened. The word itself offended Treston in about one hundred different ways, and he wasn't even a transgender. But he knew when Harlan got into one of these violent moods the best thing he could do was try to calm him down. So he reached up, caressed his cheek, and said, "Sweetie, they're just kids. They paid almost the right amount. Let them go now. It's okay." Treston wasn't much older than they were. But he didn't talk about his age openly. The day he turned twenty-five and realized he wasn't considered a twink anymore he swore he'd never tell the truth about his age again.
Harlan squeezed his neck harder and shook him a couple of times. "You shut the fuck up, or I'll rap you right in the mouth. I want my fucking money."
Before Treston could say another word, the guy with the darkest hair grabbed Harlan's arm and yanked it off Treston's neck. "Let go of her," he said. The other two clenched their fists and stepped up behind him in a show of support.
It took Treston a moment to realize they were talking about him when the guy said, "Let go of her." For a moment, he wondered if a woman had entered the room because he'd never thought of himself as a her.
Harlan turned fast. He tried to break free from the guy with the darkest hair, but the other two moved forward and grabbed his other arm. Harlan glared at them. "Let go of me or I'll kick the shit out of all of you."
The dark-haired guy twisted Harlan's arm behind is back and said, "I told you to let go of her and I meant it, pal. Now if you want, here's what we'll do. We'll leave quietly and go to a cash machine and get you more money. But you're not getting our watches."
Treston turned to the guys and said, "Just let go of him and leave. Please, guys. We don't want any more money. Just please go. I don't want any trouble here." The last thing he wanted were his neighbors to find him dressed up this way, not to mention the police knocking at his door. He had a feeling this could get ugly and he wanted to avoid a scene.
Harlan said, "Let them get the rest of the money and come back."
"I'll give you the rest of the money myself," Treston said. "They're decent guys. It's over, Harlan. Let them go."