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.
Homecoming - 27. Chapter 27
Adam finds Ricky
Ricky lived in the apartment over the general store he once shared with his deceased mother. After Ricky’s mother died, Ricky was too young to take ownership of the store, so she willed it to her mother until Ricky came of age.
Ricky’s grandmother didn’t want to deal with the burden. She had passed away before he was of age, leaving Ricky with her and his mother’s debt.
Adam ignored the chimes from his cell and focused on the road. He didn’t want to be disturb right now.
“Patrick how is your Wi-Fi,” asked Adam, unaware of his mistake of calling out the wrong name. Justin noticed as he checked his phone for bars.
“It’s working boss.” Adam glanced at Justin and realized he’d called him by Patrick’s name.
“Sorry, Justin. Patrick’s name just popped into my head.”
“No problem. You’re worried about him. I can tell.”
“Yeah, I’m so relieved he’s with Mia and out of danger.”
“What do you want me to look up?”
“Check and see who gets ownership of the general store now that Perkins is dead.”
“On it. Anything else?”
“A GPS search of Patrick’s cell. You can get his number from my cell.”
“Wouldn’t it be dead by now?”
“His cell is equipped with a tracking system that still works after the battery dies.”
“He’s rich. Can’t he just replace it?”
“It’s not about that. I want Patrick to stop spending his money as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.”
“He doesn’t.” Adam didn’t want to explain himself.
“Just focus on the general store.”
“Okay.” Justin knew he shouldn’t have pushed, but knew Adam was making too much of a demand on Patrick. Old money plays by different rules. “There’s nothing stating who gains control of the store after Perkins. There’s still no word about his death yet. As far as anyone’s concerned, he’s still alive.”
“No next of kin?”
“Most likely not if it hasn’t been announced yet.”
“Maybe the police are still looking.” Adam pulled up next to the general store’s side. Steps led up to an apartment on the second floor.
“I don’t want to be a downer boss,” said Justin, unfastening his seat belt and climbing out of the jeep. “But shouldn’t we call the sheriff?”
Adam climbed out his Jeep thinking if he did anything to Ricky, physically, it could cripple his mother’s case. He took a deep breath and approached the steps. Justin started to follow when Adam turned to him.
“Normally I wouldn’t let you go with me, but I need a witness. So, set your cell to record our conversation just in case Ricky tries something. When I get answers, we’ll call the sheriff.”
“Okay.”
They climbed the wooden steps when they came close to the door, they noticed it was opened. Adam paused and stared at the door. He looked back at Justin and held his hand up telling him to stay put. Adam scanned over the door frame and floor for any trip wires. He glanced through the crack of the door and saw nothing was connected to it. He pushed open the door and saw that the apartment’s been ransacked.
“It’s okay Justin.”
Justin walked up and looked inside at the disheveled room.
“Maybe he was robbed?” suggested Justin.
“No, this wasn’t a robbery.”
“Then what?”
“It looks like someone threw a tantrum.”
“How can you tell?”
“There’s money over there on the floor.” Justin saw where Adam pointed and saw at least four twenty-dollar bills laying out in the open and smaller bills sticking out of the couch.
“So not a robbery?”
“Doesn’t look that way.” Something caught Adam’s eye; a picture laid on the floor with a shattered glass frame. Adam walked over and picked up the picture, careful not to get cut on the glass. Ricky stood in front of a house with a separate shed in the background. Justin walked over and looked at the photo.
“Does it mean anything?” asked Justin.
“I remember my parents telling me that when Ricky’s mom died, he had to go live with his grandmother for a while. I think this is her house and this photo looks recent.”
“You think Ricky lives there?”
“Maybe he’s using both places.”
“Then why, trash this place?”
“I don’t know, but I want you to get to the sheriff and tell him about this place while I head over to Ricky’s grandmother’s.”
“Alone?”
“It’ll be alright. I’m not about to compromise my mother’s freedom.”
“I still don’t think you should go alone.”
“Justin, I can do this without losing it. I swear. Go get the sheriff and tell him about this place and that I’m going to Ricky Webb’s grandmother’s house.
Justin left, but wasn’t comfortable with Adam going alone. He walked up the avenue and saw a group of guys on their motorcycles. He smiled at one, with long hair, a close-cut beard, wearing denim jeans, and a leather jacket who had his eyes on Justin.
*************
“I told you not to call me here Ricky.”
“But Tina, Adam’s boyfriend knows about me. He has a picture of me in the cave and one of Eric’s dead body. You took those pictures. Why would he have them?” said Ricky pacing in his deceased grandmother’s kitchen.
“Ricky calm down. I have no idea how he got them,” Tina pleaded.
“He could have gone to the sheriff. I would have been blamed for his death.”
“Where is Patrick now?”
“I have him.”
“Do you have the pictures?”
“Yes, they were on his cell phone.”
“Fine, take him to the cave and I’ll meet you there.”
“When?”
“Go now, I’ll be there soon.”
“Alright.”
“Ricky, we’re going to get through this and get everything we want.”
“That’s what you said about Eric. Now he’s dead.”
“He deserved it. He had no right to touch my baby.”
“He touched me too.”
“Of course, he did, you poor dear and didn’t I say I would make it all better?”
“Yeah, but…”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” The line went dead.
Ricky stood holding Patrick's fully charged cell. He stared at the screen of the photos of the impaled Eric Perkins. Then his thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door. He promptly went to the living room and stashed Patrick's cell between the cushions of the couch. He glanced out the blinds and saw that his visitor was Adam Potter. He scanned around one last time and opened the door.
“What are you doing here?” asked Ricky.
“We need to talk,” said Adam.
“No, we don't,” answered Ricky trying to close the door but is stopped when Adam wedged his steel toe work boot between the door and the frame.
“Dammit Ricky, that bastard recorded us and now he’s dead. You still don't want to talk?”
Ricky hesitated, then realized Adam didn't know anything about Patrick missing or the pictures. Stepping aside, he allowed Adam entrance.
************
When middle school came around, Adam, thirteen years old, was unable to work for his family’s ghost town so he started joining role-playing groups. That's how he and Ricky started playing fantasy role playing.
They met on weekends and reenact their favorite scenes from games, movies, and books. What Adam didn't know was that Eric Perkins was watching them. Ricky delivered grocery orders to Eric Perkins home. Perkins mentioned to Ricky that he and Adam could do their role playing on his property in the barn out back. Ricky was thrilled because the barn set up a great scene he and Adam wanted to act out.
Ricky was close friends with Eric Perkins. Ricky told Adam and he agreed to come. They arrived at Perkins home who told the boys to go and enjoy themselves. They would play for an hour and Perkins would bring them refreshment on a pull wagon. An ice bucket filled with bottles of soda and juice and sandwiches.
This happened every Saturday and sometimes Ricky would go help Perkins with the food. Adam had offered to help but Ricky told him it was cool he liked helping Perkins.
The third weekend the boys were hungry and thirsty and thanked Perkins for the food. After they ate, they resumed playing. Fifteen minutes in Adam started to get tired. He sat down for a moment, but started to feel drained. He wanted to go home but was unable to stand.
Eric Perkins returned and approached Ricky who was fine. Eric and Ricky started talking to one another, but Adam was unable to understand them.
Ricky moved out of Adam’s view, then Eric Perkins was in front of him. He was talking to Adam, who still couldn't comprehend what he was saying. Adam's head tilted to the side and the next thing he remembered was lying on his back. His head was cloudy and it was difficult to open his eyes. But once he managed it, he was staring at the blue sky filled with white fluffy clouds. It took him a moment to get his bearings. He looked from side to side and he realized he was lying outside in the woods. He still couldn't move and he felt sleepy again shutting his eyes.
When he awoken again, he saw the night sky. This time he could roll on his side and sit up. He looked around and saw the tip of his roof in the distance. He was close to home. He struggled to get to his feet and felt cold and a burning ache in his lower half. Adam walked slowly towards his house, stumbling a few times. He entered through the front door as quietly as he could and heard voices. He glanced from around a corner and saw his family moving about in their favorite room the kitchen. He moved to the stairs and was half way up when his mother's voice spoke from behind him.
“Adam, you're getting in late,” said Anton, wearing his long midnight hair tight up in a bun, barefooted, a tee shirt, jeans, and an apron with an image of a sword with the saying underneath: 'The chef will take your complaints'.
Adam glances back over his shoulder and answered his mother. “Yeah, sorry,” he answered somberly.
“You're a mess, go shower and change. Dinner is potluck, your favorite.”
“Okay.” Adam didn't give his mother a chance to say anything else as he walked up the stairs to the bathroom. Something was wet and sliding down his leg under his pants. He wanted to wash. Turning on the shower he stripped out of his jeans and tee shirt remembering he wore a chest plate and mock armor gear earlier in the day. But where they were he wasn't sure.
He emerged himself under the falling water and grabbed the soap and sponge, but something dark caught his eye swirling at his feet by the drain. He looked closely and noticed it was running down his leg.
“Blood,” Adam whispered. He reached behind him and touched where he was feeling pain and his fingers came up bloody. He dropped and pulled his knees close to his chest openly sobbing. He remained under the falling water for some time when a knock came to the door.
“Adam sweetie are you alright?” said Anton. Adam gathered himself before answering.
“Yeah mom, I’m fine.”
“Well, you have a visitor. It’s Ricky. Should I tell him to come back later?”
“No, I’ll be right out. Tell him to wait in my room.”
“Alright.”
Adam struggled to his feet and washed his body clean and dried off. He tied the towel around his waist and went to his room.
Ricky was sitting on his bed, holding Adam’s armor. He looked up at Adam as if their day was like all the others. Adam grabbed a pair of sweatpants tugging them on over the towel, then tossing the wet terry into the corner and a tee shirt he tugged over his wet head.
“I brought over your stuff,” said Ricky. Adam stared at him with contempt. “Eric said we can come over anytime we want.”
“Fuck you, Ricky,” snapped Adam.
“Wow, Adam, cursing in your parent’s house.” Adam lunged at him, knocking the armor from his hands and threw him to the floor sitting on top of him.
“I should break your face.”
“What would you tell your parents?”
“The truth.”
“Tell them what?”
“That he raped me?”
“Prove it? Didn’t you just wash the evidence off? And it will be your word against his. Besides, I remember us having sex and if I’m not mistaken, you jizzed inside me. So, I can say you raped me.”
Adam quickly stood up glaring at Ricky.
“We never had sex.”
“Yes, we did. It was great, but if you say anything against Eric I’ll say you raped me.”
“Get out of my house Ricky.”
“Come on Adam. It was fun—well, you were out cold, but we included you.”
“Ricky if I ever see you again, I’m going to beat the crap out of you.”
Ricky sat up and got to his feet. He walked over to the door to leave, but turned back to Adam.
“Don’t tell anyone Adam or I’ll scream rape.”
“Get out!” Adam didn’t mean to raise his voice, but it took everything in him not to start swinging on Ricky.
Ricky opened the door and walked out just as Troy walked up.
“Goodbye Mr. Potter,” said Ricky.
“Goodbye, Ricky. Do you need a ride home?” Ricky turned back with a smile.
“Thank you, sir, I would.” Troy looked at Adam, who was laying on his bed.
“You want to come, Adam?”
“No,” Adam said flatly.
“Troy left it for later and took Ricky home who said nothing about their argument. When he returned, Adam was downstairs watching TV with his brothers and laughing at a program. Troy just assumed it was boys quarreling.
************
Ricky stepped aside and allowed Adam inside. Two stories with a basement, the house was decorated with odd pieces reflecting rustic, to country cottage. Ricky's grandmother hated clutter and liked things just right. Ricky kept the house the same because he didn't feel like changing it.
He led Adam into the living room who stopped in the middle turning to Ricky. Who just stood with his hands in his jean pockets worried that Adam might see the m driver's blood under his nails.
“You want to sit down Adam, you seem frazzled?”
“Did you hear me, Ricky? That bastard is dead,” repeated Adam.
“Yeah, I heard you.” Ricky turned and walked out of the room to the kitchen. Adam, livid followed him. Ricky opened his fridge door and grabbed two beers seeming to know Adam would follow. He glanced out the open back door with a screen door towards the old shed where he parked the cab with the dead driver and Patrick in the trunk.
He knew Patrick would awake soon. He needed to get rid of Adam. He placed the second bottle of beer on the counter for Adam and cracked open his. He swallowed half the liquid before turning back to Adam, who ignored the offered drink.
“Okay, so the bastard's dead. So, what?” Ricky drained his beer and went to the one he gave Adam. Popping it open, drinking it down.
“So, what? He molested and filmed us?”
“Yeah, that's rough,” he said, taking a breath and glancing at the back door.
“Fuck Ricky, this is serious.”
“Come on Adam, no one will recognize us.”
“Why so nervous Ricky?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You keep looking towards the back door. Why?”
“No reason,” said Ricky, averting his eyes away from Adam.
Adam shook his head in disbelief and walked over to the back door. Staring out he noticed Ricky's shed door cracked open.
“My mom is being charged with Perkins death.”
“That sucks.”
“Fuck yeah, it sucks, he didn't do it.”
“Then who did?” asked Ricky finishing off the beer and tossing it into the trash bin and retrieving a third one.
“If I knew Ricky, I would have told the police.”
“So, you didn't mention me, did you?” asked Ricky twisting off his cap. Adam turned to him confused.
“What's with you, Ricky? My mom could be charged with murder and all you can do is think about yourself?”
“The cops don't charge people for nothing.”
Shocked by what Ricky said. “Are you saying my mom did kill Perkins?”
“Well, there must be evidence saying he did. Cops don't arrest innocent people.”
Ricky didn't see Adam raise his fist and connect with the side of his face. Ricky stumbled sideways into a counter that he grabbed hold of to steady himself; his beer bottle slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor, before looking back at Adam.
Adam waited while Ricky right himself. Ricky jerked towards Adam with his fist in motion, but Adam caught his arm, making him miss his swing. Adam uppercut him in the stomach, causing Ricky to double over, dropping to his knees. Adam stood over him thinking the fight was over, but then Ricky grabbed Adam's legs trying to push him off balance. Adam was taught to fight by his father and brothers. Each one had their own unique style of fighting. Adam brought down his fist onto Ricky's neck, making him let go of his legs. He kicked Ricky back with his foot, sending him colliding into a cabinet door.
Ricky flinched from the pain that raced through his back.
“Take back what you said,” ordered Adam, feeling the inherit fury the Potter men had. Ricky sat trying to collect himself after being beaten down. He looked up at Adam and chose his words carefully.
“You know Potter, if you showed this kind of energy when Perkins was having fun with you. You would never be in the position you're in.”
Adam's anger surfaced again as he thrust his foot into Ricky's chest just below his throat.
“You just don't know when to cut the bullshit,” snapped Adam, pushing his weight into Ricky who tried to push his boot off his constricted chest but failed. “You know damn well that pig drugged me! Now I found out he did the same to my mother.” Adam shouted. “You know I kept it a secret because of you. And this is how you repay me?”
Then he heard something. A muffled scream from outside. Adam got distracted looking towards where the scream came from the direction of Ricky's shed.
“Did you hear that?” asked Adam, removing his boot from Ricky's chest and stepping towards the back-screen door, turning his back to Ricky. The scream seemed to die in the wind then he heard it again, this time banging followed it. “It sounds like it's coming from your shed.”
Not paying attention to Ricky Adam didn't see him rise from the floor and move to the counter that held a wooden rolling pin that rested on a perch. Ricky picked the wooden pin up and moved over to Adam holding it like a bat.
“Maybe it's your mom,” Ricky said, to make him turn to him. Swinging with all his might the dense wood connected with Adam's forehead snapping his head back and sending him crashing to the floor. Ricky held the pin ready to crack it against Adam's head if he moved.
Ricky smiled to himself watching the now motionless Adam, who was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. The muffled cries coming from the trunk of the cab were getting intense along with the banging. Ricky stepped over Adam's body and out the back door.
“Coming!” he called to the shed with his next victim inside.
- 5
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.
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