The Queen & the Homo Jock King Read Online Free PDF Page B

are.”
    “Wow,” Paul said. “I’m touched by the sentiment and also appalled by the ego. That’s never happened to me before.”
    “I’ll fuck your butt later,” Vince promised.
    “Ah, young love,” Charlie said. “In my day, we had to go to parks and do it in bushes if we ever wanted to get any.”
    “That’s… surprisingly okay with me,” Kori said. “Maybe that’s what I need. Park sex.”
    “You better not be serious about that.” Everyone in the room stiffened just a tad as they knew Helena had entered the room. “I would sure hate to have to spank your pert little ass in retribution.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Kori said.
    “Good girl. If you need some cock, you tell your dear, sweet Helena. I’ll make sure to find you some nice frat boy flesh to munch on.” I stared into the mirror, watching my eyes darken, my movements becoming more fluid and catlike. I slowly uncapped my lipstick and gave a kiss toward the Helena in the mirror. Vaguyna whispered in my ear: First the top lip, even, smooth strokes. Pout the bottom lip. Fill it in. Watch the lines. There. Now kiss, kiss. Perfect, darling.
    Helena Handbasket had returned.
    (Since last Wednesday. It was only Saturday now. Still dramatic, though.)
    “Now,” I said, my voice all silk and smoke as I brushed my finger over my lips, smoothing out the flakes. “Paul, be a dear and help me with my wig, won’t you?”
    He handed Vince his drink and walked over to the vanity, reaching into my makeup case, pulling out a cotton swab and a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. He dipped the swab into the alcohol and brought it to my forehead, rubbing the tip along my hairline, drying up any residual oil left from the scrub I’d done earlier.
    He threw the swab away, then handed me the wig cap. I stretched it out, sliding it over my head, tucking the little curls of my hair underneath, making sure there were no lines. He reached to the back of my head to pull it down tight.
    From there, he took a roll of double-sided adhesive tape and applied it to the front and sides of the wig cap. He was good and quick. I could do this on my own, and often had when Paul wasn’t there, but sometimes I needed him to do it for me so I could focus on my breathing. I was Helena, but sometimes, it felt like she was getting harder to control. I didn’t like how easily I could slip in and out of her and it was taking me longer and longer to be able to find my center where she didn’t overwhelm everything.
    Kori and Vince murmured in the background as Charlie fiddled with his new camcorder, some HD monstrosity the size of his hand but with more buttons than my phone. He had assured me in a light voice that the definition was so good, I’d be able to see my pores when reviewing the video later. I’d told him it was a testament to how much I loved him that he still drew breath after such a comment. He’d laughed and kissed my cheek sweetly.
    When Vaguyna died, she’d left me her entire wardrobe, her wig collection, and years of knowledge that I’d never be able to repay her for, no matter how long I lived.
    But the one possession she’d left me most dear to my heart was Charlie. Charlie and Vaguyna had been a team for going on twenty-five years. Charlie had come out late in life, in his forties, a failed marriage behind him and an ex-wife and children who wanted nothing to do with him. Vaguyna had taken him in much like she’d done with me, sheltering him from the world, helping ease his burdens and soothing away the heartache. I’d never been courageous enough to ask if they’d been anything more than friends, but I didn’t suppose it mattered. Because they were family.
    And before she left this world, she had made me promise that I would take care of him for the rest of his days.
    “He’s one of the most precious things in this universe,” she’d whispered, her body gaunt and ravaged by cancer, the respirator hissing through the trach tube in her throat. “You care for