“Playing with Matches”

“Your wife is in Kentucky,” Tod said, somewhat raising his soft-spoken voice. “I’m sure you can relax your guard here. Besides, Sheena ought to understand your need to make a living.”

“Most wives don’t give their husbands a lot of choices,” Cole piped. “If you had any experience in the real world, you’d know that.”

Tod lowered his almond eyes, raised them slowly toward Cole, and spoke with calculation. “I feel your anger.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tod went on, “Anger at being forced to deny yourself for so long.”

“Shut up,” Cole warned.

“I think you resent your wife for that,” Tod said glibly.

“Are you deaf?”

“Rick and I can help you loosen up some more,” Tod said.

Cole glimpsed the empty environs immediately around him and returned to Tod. “Is this your way of manipulatin’ men into fuckin’ you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I bet,” Cole said.

Sounds of dropping weights, whirling machines, and pounding sneakers washed over Tod and Cole like autumn leaves.

Tod whispered, “Rick has another place lined up for us.”

“Now, you’re really not gonna see me take off these sunglasses,” Cole said.

“You and I got more in common in bed than you realize,” Tod said.

“What are you gettin’ at?” Cole barked.

“For a man who never gets a rest from being in charge, you ought to know what I mean.”

How could an 18-year-old know so much about the inner workings of a 30-year-old man? Cole thought. Tod was right—so right—but Cole couldn’t admit it to himself.

Tod lilted, “You’re certified to repair electronic equipment, right?”

“Of course!” Cole snapped.

Tod picked up a shiny, black receiver, gargled some nonsense into it, and