Teeradon's lips curved into a smirk as he slammed his foot down, sending his S-Class Mercedes surging forward. The appointment he'd made to have some 'fun' with someone waiting to bathe with him at Cha-am vanished from his mind entirely.
Where the hell are all the cops? Why isn't anyone stopping these speed demons? How did these motorcycles even make it to Cha-am going this fast?
He pressed harder on the accelerator when he saw the three motorcycles beginning to pull away. His car was bulky and unwieldy, and he had to constantly dodge the slower-moving vehicles. The traffic heading toward Hua Hin was considerably heavier than the opposite direction.
Don't tell me I'm going to lose them...
Teeradon let out a frustrated breath as he spotted a blue public bus crawling in the left lane ahead, a compact car keeping pace in the middle lane, and a four-wheel-drive pickup occupying the right.
Seriously? Three turtles having a goddamn race.
The young man honked loudly and flashed his high beams, but the pickup showed no intention of speeding up. Teeradon could only watch helplessly as the three motorcycles disappeared from view. Then something occurred to him—he had a friend on the police force in Hua Hin. Maybe Police Major Nares could help.
Come on, help me catch these street racers.
At first, Teeradon thought luck was on his side when Police Major Nares said he was just starting his shift at a checkpoint before the junction to Hua Hin district. But his mood soured when, less than ten minutes later, his friend called back with bad news.
"Had to let them go as soon as I saw the surname, Don," Nares said.
"What do you mean? Is the surname so powerful you don't dare touch them? I thought you controlled Hua Hin," Teeradon snapped.
"That's true, but this is the deputy surname of the Regional Police Commander of Region 7, buddy."
"What surname?" Teeradon's voice sharpened. "Tell me the full name. Let's see if it's bigger than Khunanon."
"Thaawinthamrong," Nares replied. "Wittawin Thaawinthamrong."
"What?" Teeradon shouted.
The speed demon is that pretty-faced, red-lipped monkey?
What kind of jackpot is this?
"Nares, you find him for me. Turn Hua Hin upside down if you have to. If you succeed, I'll get you into The Dazzle with free drinks for a year, and I'll introduce you to a few singer celebrities."
"I'll investigate until I drop dead, my friend," Nares accepted without hesitation. "But you're not going to do anything to him, right? He's related to the deputy regional commander, Don. Besides, he's just a kid. Seemed polite and well-mannered, humble too. Didn't look like the urban troublemaker gang you described."
Hah, you don't know that pretty speed demon at all, buddy...
"You don't know anything, so don't talk. Look, I guarantee I won't do anything bad. This is personal. A matter of dignity."
"Don't forget your promise."
Teeradon's smile turned vicious as he swerved across lanes to make a U-turn back toward his original route, remembering someone was waiting to bathe with him at Cha-am.
You can't escape a guy like Teeradon, you red-lipped monkey punk.
This off-site meeting trip won't be wasted after all.
Baramee carried two beer bottles, weaving through the concert crowd back to their seats. Pamorn had been passed out drunk since midnight—he and Wittawin had to drag him back to the hotel before returning.
While craning his neck looking for Wittawin, Baramee jumped when someone slapped his shoulder hard. When he turned around, his heart sank at the sight of someone he knew all too well.
"Who are you buying beer for, Baramee?"
"A friend," Baramee answered curtly.
"A friend, or a new victim?" the other man smiled mockingly.
"A friend is a friend. Why would I lie?"
"Right. Someone like Baramee wouldn't lie. So honest and clean-handed—how could you possibly lie?" The speaker's face went stone-cold as he finished with, "You only betray people."
Baramee sighed and said in a weary voice, "Toey, it happened a long time ago. Can't you just forget about it?"
"The perpetrator can forget easily," Toey lifted his chin to look at Baramee's face. "But the victim doesn't forget so easily."
"Just once in my life. Won't you ever forgive me?" Baramee's voice hardened.
"Should I?" Toey smiled sarcastically.
"You should. You know I didn't mean it."
"When didn't you mean it?" Toey's voice grew stern, staring into Baramee's eyes. "Before or after you did it?"
"Toey—"
"Fine. I'll be considerate of our past and the memories we made together in moving picture format."
"Toey, don't," Baramee's voice cracked.
"Don't what? Say it clearly so I understand."
"I made a mistake."
"I made a mistake too," Toey shot back. "I was mistaken to be fooled by you. And you—you were mistaken to forget your phone."
"It's in the past."
"I know. How could I not know? But seeing you, I can't help feeling hurt."
"Then what do you want me to do? I can't turn back the clock and fix what happened in the past," Baramee looked down at the pale-faced young man who turned his face away to look aside.
"You don't need to do anything," Toey shrugged. He fell silent for a moment, then turned back to look at Baramee with ice-cold eyes. "Just stay put. Don't let me find out you're deceiving anyone else. And don't get married, because on your wedding day, I'll go to the church to raise my hand and shout my answer when the priest asks that important question."
"Don't do anything crazy," Baramee sighed, knowing the other man was serious, not just making empty threats.
"A promise is a promise, Baramee. Don't forget."
"Then hurry up and make your demands so we can end this," Baramee's voice turned hard. "If you won't let it end, then make it end."
"Not yet. Let me get my soul back into my body first," Toey said, then walked away stubbornly, leaving Baramee standing there grinding his teeth alone.
Wittawin turned to look at the person who had slumped down beside him with puzzled eyes, because Baramee had changed so suddenly. The young man was usually cheerful—it was rare to see him display such a sour mood.
"Did you get into a fight with someone? You only went to buy beer," Wittawin asked.
"No, I just ran into someone I know who said something irritating," Baramee replied in a gloomy voice, lifting the beer bottle to his lips.
"I think you were more likely the one saying irritating things to someone else," Wittawin said with a smile.
"Think whatever you want," Baramee shrugged and leaned back to lie on the ground. Wittawin glanced down at him, then turned his attention back to the performance on stage. Before long, Baramee spoke up.
"What time are we heading back, Win?"
"If you want to go back, go ahead. I want to wait and listen to D.D. Punk play before heading back," Wittawin replied.
"Why do you like weird music like that? It's not jazz, and I don't even know what songs they're playing."
"I'm a weird person like that. What can I do about it?"
"That's exactly why you're weird, which is why we..." Baramee mumbled, then changed the subject. "So who's sleeping with Pamorn? I'm not sleeping with him—I'm afraid he'll molest me."
"Don't you think I'd have the same concern as you?" Wittawin laughed softly, glancing at Baramee who was lying on his back looking up at him, then turned his attention back to the musicians on stage.
"Are you afraid Pamorn will molest you too?" Baramee sat up. "Seriously though, is Pamorn gay or not? He acts like such a player, hitting on everyone, but never seems to get serious with anybody. I see him checking out asses, boobs, everything on women, so I'm even more confused about what he really is."
"I'm not afraid of Pamorn," Wittawin said with a smile.
Baramee chuckled quietly in his throat, then fell silent. He lifted his beer and took a large gulp, sighing softly before turning to speak to Wittawin in a calm voice: "Fine. I admit it. I'm bisexual. But you can be sure I won't do anything to you."
"Are you drunk?" Wittawin tilted his head to ask.
"So anyway, tonight we sleep separately. But there are only two rooms, so what should we do?" Baramee shrugged, lifting his beer to continue drinking.
"I can sleep with Pamorn. Then you can sleep alone and be comfortable," Wittawin replied quietly. "And you don't need to confess your feelings in the middle of a concert right now. I'm not stupid—I can tell what people are like."
"You're really something, aren't you?" Baramee laughed.
Wittawin shrugged and stood up. He bent down to ask Baramee if he wanted more beer.
"Get me two more bottles. Where are you going?"
"To the bathroom," Wittawin answered briefly and walked away, leaving Baramee to watch him go thoughtfully.
I'm afraid of myself, Win...
I don't trust himself...
***