Read The Darker Side of Trey Grey for Free Online Page B

painful leg cramps.
    “Fine, fucking fine, I’ll go, damn it.” I threw my hands up in defeat. If I really believed my body was making me do things I didn’t want to, would that classify me as insane or just mentally unstable?  I was definitely one or the other.
    I somehow managed to ignore my scrub brush, thus pulling off a fifteen minute shower. I felt pretty damn good about that small triumph. In celebration I dug out my most expensive jeans and a black cashmere V-neck sweater. The jeans were a risk since I didn’t wear underwear, and they had a perfectly worn tear along my right ass cheek. Even so, I seriously doubted they would be provocative considering the club I was headed to. They weren’t even leather, or rubber, or latex.
    I finished off the look with a studded belt, snake link silver chain, and set out my black short healed boots. As I looked in the mirror, something was missing. I opened my top drawer, fumbling around until I found a black kohl liner pencil and tinted lip balm. 
    After applying both, I stared at the face in the mirror. “If that isn’t a gay boy, I don’t know what is.” But I liked the effect so left myself alone. “Now, where is that damn card?” My eyes traveled to the toxic bag sitting ominously on top of my work clothes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” My bare foot hit the vanity with a satisfying bloom of pain. How stupid can you be, Trey? I could do this, and without needing another shower. I hoped.
    With my hands covered in green latex and my sweater now on the bed, as delicately as any surgeon, I opened the knot. With my fingertips, I managed to get the bag pushed down past the jacket. The thought of the bag touching me made my skin crawl. I could feel the sweat beginning to slide down my temples. Suck it up. Carefully exposing the inner pockets, I felt for the card and found it. With two trembling fingers, I successfully extracted it and tossed it in the sink. Now to tie the bag back up.
    A drop of sweat traveled down my chest to my navel as my hands began to shake. Leaning away, I took hold of the yellow ties and pulled them up until they stopped. God-damn-Georgie . I couldn’t stop shaking, and it was making it hard to tie the sonofabitch closed. Somehow I managed, and let out a sigh of relief.
    I sprayed the plastic card with bleach then soaped it up. I pulled the lathered gloves from my hands, dropping them in the trash before I finished rinsing the card in hot water.  
    “Okay, that wasn’t so bad. I didn’t even scream once.”
    I wet a washcloth and wiped myself off. Thankfully sweat didn’t bother me... much. I actually liked the smell of clean sweat. The kicker there being clean. Willie always had a vile tang to him regardless of how often he showered, and his body odor used to offend my senses.
    Dressed again, eyes de-smudged, and card in hand, I headed out the door with a more positive outlook towards the evening. I had done something I never thought I would be able to do. To some it might be laughable, but to me, opening that garbage bag had been ginormous.
    Of course one tiny breakthrough makes a person stupid in a way like no other. Humming and swinging my keys around my finger, I was halfway to the dorm’s front door when I heard my name behind me. Damn . I had to face my own composition, and lie convincingly. I turned on the ball of my foot to face an undeniably hurt Taylor. His face was an emotional road map of messy lines.
    “Where were you this morning? I knocked but you weren’t home. Are you okay? Did you have a family emergency or something?”
    Bingo . The way he was rambling he would eventually hit something I could use.
    “It was a personal emergency. I’m sorry, Taylor, I should have left you a note.” Shit, that sounded sincere even to my ears.
    “Is everything okay?” he asked. The genuine concern on his face was almost heartbreaking. Almost.
    The boy was working on wrecking himself. Taylor was dressed in wrinkled blue camo pajamas and