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- Signature Author
- 12/09/2010
- 5,469 Words
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Double Down - 1. Chapter 1
Someone recently said to me that all I would ever be, all I could ever do, was what I was doing now. Just floating along on the surface of the sea of life, never challenging myself. I'd just shrugged in response, not knowing if they were right, and not really caring either. I got up, I went to work, I came home to sit on my ratty futon before I hauled myself off to my lonely bed.
“Jeez…Demarcus, when are you going to give this crap up?” asked my brother in disgust when he showed up out of the blue one day.
“Marc." I gave him an apathetic shrug.
“Fuck, man…sometimes I don’t know where you went wrong. We lost our parents, yeah, but you had so many good things lined up last year, what happened to you?”
My eyes tightened as I tried to hide the wince that came with the memories I kept trying to bury. He didn’t notice though; he was too busy looking at my dingy place with disgust. I knew it didn’t seem like much, but it was clean. I just didn’t see much point in accumulating much stuff. My work paid the bills for the things I had to have like rent, heat, a little food … but that was it. I didn't even have a TV. The rest went to ... well, that was for me to know, not him.
“Look, did you just come here to pull a high and mighty routine or is there some sort of reason behind this fun fest?” I asked in a bitchy tone.
He looked at me, really looked at me, as his dark eyes bored into mine as if he see through into my head to find out just what I refused to tell him, hell, what I refused to tell anyone who mattered. His face softened, and his rigid posture slumped as he found only his own reflection in the empty blue gaze that was all I had left to give.
I would never tell him the true reason why I had to leave school, home, him … I had sworn to myself that the cost of my actions would only affect me. All he knew is that the big brother he had always loved and looked up to had checked out. Life had become something other people had. I had to get rid of him before he asked the right questions or was seen here.
“What is it? Is it drugs? I'm not going to judge you; I just thought that if I came here that maybe you would TALK to me. I know you’ve been ducking my calls, but when your phone got shut off I had to come in person to make sure you were still alive.”
Rylan’s voice was glum; he was beginning to get the picture that he had driven two hours for a lost cause. Now if I could just get him to go before I broke down and spilled my guts. I didn’t want him to know what was really going on in my life. I certainly didn’t want him involved.
“Nope, not gonna happen. So just toddle your way back home and keep your nose clean. You probably ditched school to come here and do what? Waste your gas, your breath and my time. Just go, I'm not coming back.”
The light in Rylan's eyes was almost completely obscured by the tears that threatened to overflow. His mouth opened and shut a few times before he shook his head vehemently, whether in denial of him leaving or of the casual dismissal I was handing out to my only family left, I wasn’t quite sure. The question was answered when he turned and shuffled dejectedly toward the door.
His voice came muffled when he paused facing the door. “I'm not giving up on you, you know. I will be back one day soon, and you will talk to me.” With that he undid the three locks that I had insisted on installing when I moved in, and let himself out.
I moved quickly to the door, clicked over the locks, and then watched him walk away through the tiny peephole. My own shoulders felt bowed under the weight of a life gone wrong in horrible ways. There were things that I would never have believed I would do but love, or the false perception of it, is a great motivator. By the time I knew the truth it was too late.
***
Preston had seemed like the caring friend at college. We had met casually at a few parties, chatted about classes and interests. He snuck in under my radar, my attraction to him growing the more I got to know him. For the life of me I couldn't figure him out though; he seemed to flirt with everyone, men and women alike.
When my parents died last year he practically moved into my single room apartment. He slept on the couch, doing whatever it took to keep me going, helping me hold it together through all the arrangements that needed to be made, especially those regarding Rylan who was just a few months away from his high school graduation. I had been so close to my parents, they and Ry had been my only family in this world. Growing up we had always had a strong bond. After they died, Ry was all I had left.
After the funeral was over and Ry was moved in to one of his friend’s homes I broke down. I couldn't make any more decisions after the ones that saw my parents into the ground. Pres took over; he told me to sell the house and the furniture, combining that money with the small insurance settlement into one account to help pay for finishing school for me and Ry. I guess they just never got around to changing their coverage as they got older; the icy corner where they met their fate was totally unexpected, so the settlement wasn't much.
Pretty soon after that Pres was making more and more of the decisions for me. One day he came in, chivvying me out of bed and into the bathroom.
“Time to go out!” he'd announced. “Look, I know that it has only been a few months since your parents died but we need to get you to move on. Life goes on and you can't just keep going back and forth to class and this apartment every day. You need to live a little to remember that!”
I thought he was doing me a favor as we drove out of town that night, heading toward the city. I innocently followed his lead as he led me into a club, full of GAY men! I was floored, standing mute at his side as he was greeted by name by many of the men standing around the bar, crowding in as they either stood talking or watching the action on the dance floor.
Pres was gay! But why then had he never shown any interest in me, all those times he got me undressed and into bed when I simply stopped moving on my own?
“I didn't know how to tell you,” he'd said in my ear, the only way to really talk over the music. I'd shivered at the feel of his lips barely touching the sensitive lobe. “I really want to be with you, but I don't want you to think I am taking advantage of you. I know you are out on campus but I've never seen you with anyone. I was going to tell you before …” he'd paused, “well, just before. I thought maybe if I brought you here it would be easier somehow.
“There are lots of things to do in this club, there’s the dancing here; the games are held in another room. It's quieter in the back bar, there's some gambling, cards, dice... It's strictly hush hush but I know the owner.”
“No way.” I shook my head. “You know I have that unfair advantage when I play. I won't risk being accused of cheating again. The last time I tried playing a pick-up game someone broke my nose, and that was over chump change.”
Annoyance had flashed over his face, but he'd quickly smoothed it out into a toothy smile. “That's alright, no big deal.”
Just then a slow song came on, the dancers on the floor pairing off and moving to the haunting melody of a song about lovers lying and heartbreak. If only I had heeded that sign.
“Dance with me?” Pres asked in a sultry voice, holding out a hand, his eyes beseeching me with a hot look and promised things I could only dream about before.
“I think I'd like that,” I said hoarsely.
Moving onto the dance floor, he'd towed me along by my hand clasped in his own strong fingers. Those fingers then wrapped my arms around his neck as he grabbed my sides, pulling our bodies in close. I panicked when our groins came in contact but he'd only chuckled at the evidence of my attraction to him. He'd grabbed my ass, grinding into me in a slow rhythm.
That night he took me to places I’d never been before, physically and emotionally. I was sure that Preston Marcus Rigsling was the ONE. I gladly followed his lead over the next few months, turning over all the important aspects of my life to him. I was so in love that I ignored all sense of self-preservation. Thank goodness I had done one thing right. I had set aside a separate account for Ry to pay the Cartlesons for his care and his college expenses. That money was untouchable for any other reason.
Preston and I moved in a better apartment together, Pres' name on the lease of course, but my money paid the bills. I was happy to let him take the reins for our expenses, believing him when he said his money was mine as well and we should just share everything, just as we shared our love. A few months went by as I slowly came back to life. I started participating in class, once again enjoying myself as I became absorbed with my studies.
I didn’t notice the changes that Pres started going through; it all started out so small. He got jealous of the slightest bit of attention that I showed to anyone else, and he became more and more secretive. Soon I started to notice other things, phone calls that he refused to tell me about, him being gone odd hours, then things started to go missing.
When I confronted him, he did something I never thought he would do. He slapped me, a stinging blow to my cheek. He began yelling, completely enraged, telling me that I should just appreciate all he did for me and not question what he was doing. Hadn't he taken care of me, taken care of everything? He played me like a fiddle, my guilt and shame in falling apart like a child still working in his favor. I shut up, but didn't forget what I knew I saw happening. By then it was really too late anyway.
Sure enough, one day soon after that some very bad people came to the door. It was then I finally learned what good old Preston had been up to. They'd taken me down to a warehouse, seemingly silent and deserted from the front. It was a different story inside, where the games were being played. All manner of games; poker, craps, blackjack, and by the look of some of the people playing the games in there, not low stakes games either.
I'd been dragged into a small room in the back where a man was tied to a chair. The battered face that rose to see the door opening tore up my heart. I gasped when I saw Pres clearly had a broken nose and his eyes were swelling shut. His face was white with pain where it hadn’t started to turn purple and there was still blood slowly dripping off his chin. He let out a sob when he saw me hauled into the room.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he sobbed. “I never meant for this to happen, I swear.”
A man in a suit that I had completely missed seeing slapped him across the face. “Shut up, you stupid piece of shit.”
The two bruisers who had collected me slammed me into a chair as facing Pres, the cheap metal screeching in protest as my weight hit it. They clamped hands on my shoulders, one on each side. I was a decent sized guy, lean with wiry muscles. I liked going to the gym most days, but these goons were huge. No way was I going to piss anyone off by trying to get away.
“So ... your little boyfriend here has gotten himself on my bad side. Seems he thinks he can rack up debts and not pay. Not in my world! So, here's how things will go. You pay me what he owes, or we kill him and break your kneecaps.”
I shook in my seat as my stomach had churned; the man's cold disinterested voice calmly stating such horrid things convinced me that he wouldn't hesitate to make good on his threats.
“I ... I have money, I just have to go to the bank, and I’ll get it for you I swear. Please don't hurt us." My fists were clenched in my lap as I stared at the man and then over to Preston. He was a total bastard, I had known that finally, but I couldn't let them kill him.
Pres had shaken his head frantically, making eye contact with me. I'd gaped at him in confusion ... What? He didn't want me to pay?
The sound of the suit's hand slamming into the side of Pres' head sounded like a crack of lightening in the small room.
“Excuse me? No? You want me to kill you? I'll do it slowly, I promise, there will be no quick bullet for you.” Pres was shaking his head frantically. “Now what do you have to say to me?”
“We ... We don't have any money in the bank,” said Pres as he cowered fearfully. He hunched expecting the blow that came ... and he wasn't disappointed. This time the blood gushed from his lip as it split. He cried out in pain, sobbing pitifully. I'd stared in horror; unable to understand what he meant. I had thought had plenty of money left from the insurance settlement and sale of the house.
“You care to tell me how you planned for your little boyfriend here to pay what you owe then?”
“There's more money. It's in an account for his little brother. He can get it; I didn't have access to it, or I would have paid you yesterday, I swear!” Pres babbled, desperately trying to keep from being struck again.
I shook my head in disbelief. Not only had Pres gambled away all of my money, he had tried to get Rylan's money as well, money he now expected me to use to save his sorry ass. Well, it looked like we were both screwed.
“I can't get to that money; it's in a trust administered by lawyers and his guardians. I have no access to it either.”
“Shit!” the suit had yelled. “You owe me fifty thousand dollars and now you are telling me that I'm not going to get paid? Just take him out back and beat him to death. You know what, I'm pissed now; go ahead and kill them both.”
I let out a sob as I was hauled to my feet by one of the two bruisers, my heart having been broken again. At that point I didn't resist anymore. Nothing in my life was ever going to be good again. If I couldn't trust the man who had rescued me from myself, the man I loved, what was the point to living?
Pres gibbered as he was hauled to his feet, his eyes rolling in panic. The bruiser started to drag him out a back door to the alley. Scummy bricks and trash heaps going to be the last things we ever saw.
“Wait... Wait... I... I know how you can make your money back!” he'd cried out as he fought to get free.
“Stop!”
The men holding us had stopped, shoving us down to our knees.
“This had better be good!” the suit snarled.
“Marc can count cards, he never loses a game. He could earn the money back for you, by cheating at games in the city. I know he could do it, please ... please don’t kill me.”
The suit seemed to consider that, tapping one long finger on his cheek. His eyes had studied me, my perfectly average appearance. I didn't stand out, which had worked in my favor playing cards before. I was a young, skinny white boy with a forgettable face. No one expected me to be good at the games. When I was, few remembered me for next time.
“Maybev... if what you say is true we can strike a deal. I'll want a demonstration, of course.”
Pres sagged in relief but I'd just stood there in shock. I knew that he had saved my life as well, but so that I could become what? A cheater who worked for an obviously dangerous criminal? That was the last thing I would’ve ever done in my life; my parents had raised me to be a honest and hard working man. They had even supported me when I was honest about my homosexuality when I came out to them. They weren't happy about it; but they would have been more upset had I lied about who I really was.
I was sent out to the front of warehouse, holding five thousand in chips. Within an hour I had been collected, along with my now fifteen thousand in chips. The suit was impressed and we had been sent home with a warning that if we said anything to anyone, not only would we die, but any loved ones we had as well. I was sick, knowing the suit had my brother's name and could no doubt follow through on his threat anytime he wanted.
So ... Preston Marcus Rigsling walked away from a deadly situation with some bruises and a broken nose. When we got home that night, he packed a bag and ran out of my life. I had no idea where he went and didn't care to find out. I knew my life was going to be in danger, if not from the suit, and then from the men he would have me fleecing. I was warned; if I skipped out on the debt my brother would be taken, tortured, and then killed. I couldn't risk that. I moved away from town, to the city where I had my new 'job' after I broke off all contact with my former life. It wouldn’t stop them if I failed, but it was all I could do to protect Ry.
I never knew when the calls would come. I took a series of dead end day jobs, unable to keep from getting fired when I would be sent to an afternoon card game when I should have been washing dishes or hammering nails. My current job was sweeping ... Yep, sweeping. Me, the man who had once been planning on becoming a professor in Mathematics at some prestigious university when I graduated. Those poor decisions were what left me sitting on my couch when my little brother finally got fed up and came to see me.
After Ry left that day I spiraled even farther into apathy. It seemed like Pres’ debts were never getting smaller; interest mounted almost faster than I could steal as I cheated at game after game. I couldn't help but feel like I deserved it though; I was stupid, stupid to believe that someone had ever loved me like I had loved Preston, would ever care about me that way. I had just blindly trusted that someone would take care of me when I needed it.
What a crock of shit.
***
I stumbled in my door one night after a late card game at another abandoned warehouse. The suit, the only name I had for my seedy boss, seemed to know all the action in town. I had to spread my act out, hit different locations and make sure I didn’t cheat any one too often. I was desperately afraid of someone else figuring it out and coming after me or my family. It's why I had cut off all contact with Ry.
Speaking of the devil... I opened the door to my craphole apartment to find my brother sitting on my ratty futon again, but he this time he wasn't alone. A guy was sitting next to him, his long legs relaxed as he sprawled down in a slouch. Ry was sitting straight up, anxiously watching the door where I stood and gape d at him.
“What the hell are you doing back here?” I demanded. “And how the hell did you get into my apartment?” I ignored the stranger still lounging on my futon eyeing me. I had to ignore him; there was something about him. His looks just pulled me in and made me want to wet my lips and stare for hours. He was the hottest guy I'd seen in a long time and his calm smile made me want to smile back at him.
“I told you I would be back,” said Ry. “I just knew that something was going on, something that had involved Preston. Nat is a private investigator, and one of my neighbors. I enlisted his help to find Preston, and we wrung the truth out of the bastard.”
I stumbled back against the door frame; my dirty secret was known by the one person who I had tried the hardest to keep it from. I could feel tears come to my eyes as I dropped my gaze to the floor. The shame and guilt I felt overwhelmed me. My body shook as I gasped, trying to get back the breath that whooshed out my lungs the second Ry had finished speaking.
“Shh ... shh ...” Ry rushed to me, grabbing me into a tight hug, burying my face into his shoulder. “It's okay, Demarcus. It’s not your fault. I know you are only doing what you thought you had to in order to protect me; Preston told me they threatened to hurt or kill me if you didn't pay them back.”
“Why didn't you just go to the police?” asked a deep baritone voice.
I stiffened, raising my head from the comforting shelter I didn't deserve. I sneered at him; he looked downright nosy now, not hot. He cocked one eyebrow up and I couldn't help myself. I snapped.
“And tell them what, exactly, asshole? That I was too stupid to know that my lover had spent all my money gambling because I fell apart and couldn't be a man after my parents died? That someone I have no way of identifying is blackmailing me to cheat at illegal card games? What would they have done to protect me, to protect my brother if they busted him somehow with that little information?” I shook my head, “No ... no way could I risk Ry getting hurt.”
Ry put his hand on my face, turning me to look at him, again staring deep in my eyes. This time everything I hid was there and he saw it all, everything I felt. The shame, anger, and fear covered a deep sense of loss, a loss of faith in humanity, and in love. I had left him for a selfish reason too, unable to face the possibility that one day he would find out and he might scorn me for this. The thought that the very last person in this world who meant anything at all might grind the leftover bits of my heart into dust and let them blow away was overwhelmingly painful.
I had left to protect what was left of that heart, the pieces lying broken and unused in my chest. Sometimes it felt as if the ragged edges were cutting into my flesh from the inside as I laid curled into a ball, sobbing dejectedly over the remains of who I used to be and never would be again. I was a broken man, the dream of one day someone mending what was left into a new whole was a dream I refused to even consider.
“Oh, Demarcus! You’re my brother; I love you! I would never want you to put my life before yours at such a cost. We have to fix this, to make both of us safe so you can come home. I don't care about the money, if giving up part of my trust will buy your freedom, I don't want it. They can have it all!”
I shook my head, knowing I could not let my baby brother give up his dreams as well. Mine were simpler now ... I only had one. It was for him to succeed where I had failed, to be happy and live well.
“Yes, Demarcus." I frowned. "Sorry, Marc. I'm eighteen now, the trust is mine to do with as I see fit, I will take it to this man and give it all to him. Then you can stop doing this and living such a life," Ry insisted.
“I don't think it will be that easy anymore,” interjected the stranger, whose calm voice was steady and emotionless, even as his hazel eyes showed his pity. I snarled at him; he could shove his pity up his ass.
“What do you mean, Nat? If the money is paid back then what can they do? It's done, finished.”
I shook my head, wishing I wasn't agreeing with the handsome man that still irked me even as he spoke a truth that my sheltered just wasn't getting.
“Even if I could let you do that, I've been too useful, made them too much money. It won't matter if I pay my debt over one hundred times, they will never let me go now. I know too much to be safe for them to not have something to hold over me. And Ry? As long as you live they will use you against me. That is something Pres made sure I knew before he left.”
“Gods, that bastard! I can't believe he would do this to you. He loved you!”
“No, he never really loved me. I got angry when he was packing to leave, demanded to know where his so called love was for me if he could do this. He told me all along the plan was to get me scamming games, just for him, not the suit. When Mom and Dad died he was all ready, waiting for his chance.” I looked ashamed as I thought back to that time, my weakest moment.
“I'm just surprised that it didn't happen earlier. I wish I had seen him for who he was. I wasn't even able to get Dad's wedding ring back after he stole and pawned it.”
Ry's stricken face was another blow to my already miniscule pride. I knew that he had kept Mom's ring because Dad and I had been so close, but knowing that a stranger might be wearing Dad's ring that meant so much to him, the outward sign of the deepest vows he had taken in his life time, was unendurable. Ry’s hands came up. I fully expected a slap from Ry and cringed away. It had been something Pres had done to me often in anger after the shock of the first real blow had left him.
“Oh god, Marc.” Ry whispered. My cringe away from him was enough to do what nothing else had. He let loose a sob, and fell against me, squeezing me in his arms. I held him, looking at Ry's friend helplessly. Nat got up off the futon and helped me sit Ry down. I was forced to sit down too as the grip he had on my shirt threatened to tear it if I didn't follow. Ry clung to me as he sobbed on my chest. I looked at Nat helplessly as I murmured quiet reassurances, my eyes begging him for the help I could not put to voice.
I couldn't let Ry down, couldn't let him try to help me. I knew he would try, too. I hated to do it, but I would do anything to protect him. My brother had brought Nat here to try and help me; if he could I had to take him up on it.
“Look,” Nat said, “I know some people; they might be able to help you. But you have to really want out and be willing to risk a fair amount of danger to be free.”
“I already risk everything each time I go out to scam a club or underground casino. I get the aspect of danger in ways that others might not. But I don't know you or them, how do I know I can trust you?”
“I trust him,” Ry told me as he sat up, his conviction plain on his wet face. “He's good people Marc, and he's been a friend I could count on whenever I needed one. I trust him to judge who could help you out.” He wiped at the tears on his cheeks.
My lips were pinched tight as I considered. I finally nodded, looking at Ry. I knew I would do anything, risk everything, to make him safe again. That was all that mattered.
“Let me call them,” Nat said as he dug out a fancy cell phone from the front pocket in his tight jeans.
He walked into the kitchen area in my shoebox sized apartment for a bit of privacy, keeping his voice low. The rise and fall of his deep rumbling voice sounded soothing as I sat back on the futon next to Ry, just trying to process the fact that someone else knew what I was going through.
The call ended with a beep as Nat turned to face us. He nodded at my questioning look.
“My friend will be here in the morning with a team, I gave her some rough details so she'll be prepared to start right away on this case. Truthfully, she's really excited having something this big come across her desk.”
“Who is she, exactly?”
“Anna Danbef, my contact at the DEA. Turns out your suit is into a whole hell of a lot more than just citywide gambling ring. She's definitely interested in pursuing some of the drug leads I uncovered, not to mention the information you could give the FBI on the gambling that is going down all across this city. If she includes the proof you could gather, they'll definitely interested.”
“You have contacts at the FBI and the DEA?” I asked.
“Well, no. Anna is going to contact someone she trusts at the FBI, I just gave the info we have so far to her.”
“And you know this Anna how?”
Blushing a little he said, “She's an old girlfriend.” He shrugged a little too nonchalantly.
I felt a rush of disappointment at that little nugget of truth coming to light. Of course the hot guy standing in my living room would be straight. The disappointment told me something I didn't want to know, I had been appreciating the view a little bit more than I realized, despite my irritation with him. I should have knownm better than to fantasize about a guy being gay, much less one that would like me; it's not like anyone would ever want to stick around and love me. With my track record, ever expecting someone to care enough for that would be idiotic. I was stupid, but not an idiot.
I cleared my throat. “Well, if we have people coming in the morning we should get some sleep. It's pretty bare bones but Ry can share the bed with me and you can have the futon, Nat.”
Everyone seemed to agree so I grabbed an extra blanket and pillow and threw them on the couch. Ry had gone out to the car to get their bags; apparently they had hoped I would agree to let them help and had come prepared to stay for a while.
We said goodnight, leaving Nat to the lumpy futon while Ry and I huddled close on the double bed in my room.
“Hey Ry?” I whispered.
“Yeah?” he mumbled sleepily.
“Thank you.”
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