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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

If It Fits - 19. Chapter 19

August 1, 1995

I sat in the great room with Darius and JJ, once again enduring a visit with Bitty, our third one. The second one had gone no better than the first, and this one had gone no better than the second.

“It is clear that you have poisoned their minds against me,” Bitty said to me.

“I can think for myself,” Darius snapped. “You want to ruin my life. I don't want anything to do with you.”

“That's not true baby,” Bitty cooed. “I don't want to ruin your life. I just want to be part of it.”

“That's fine. Then let us stay here,” he said. He had shown a marked level of maturity during this whole process, a maturity that clearly impressed Ms Friedens as much as it irritated Bitty.

“I can't do that. I live in Claremont. That's where you have to be,” she whined.

“I think what Darius is saying is that if you want a relationship with them, quit threatening to rip them away from their home,” I said candidly.

“You see,” she said to Allison, “that is exactly what they say to the kids when I'm not around.”

“Why is it so important for you to take them back to Claremont right now?” Allison asked.

“Because they are my children and they belong with me,” Bitty snarled.

“Because we are like possessions and you want us with you, whether it is good for us or not,” Darius snarled right back. “I have had enough for today. May I go?”

“You just got here Darius,” Allison said. “I'd like to spend some more time with you. Is that alright?”

“Alright,” he said, and smiled at her. He was such a little flirt, especially with women.

“So what do you do for fun?” she asked.

“We surf,” Darius said.

“I paint with my Dad,” JJ said enthusiastically. He showed no artistic talent, but he enjoyed it.

“How are we going to surf in Claremont?” Darius asked Bitty.

“There are other things to do besides surfing. There are a lot of things to do in Claremont,” she said to him, clearly peeved.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Ride horses, hike,” she said, scrambling for things. “You could play sports. There are a lot of programs there for kids. Soccer, football, basketball, hockey.”

“What do you do for fun?” he asked her. We all looked at her.

“Well,” Bitty said carefully, “between work and school, I don't have a lot of spare time for recreation.”

“If you're so busy now, how are you going to find time to spend with us, to take care of us?” he asked innocently. This thirteen year old kid had led her right into a trap and snapped it shut. He was really quite brilliant.

Bitty just glared at him. “Very funny. I'll have plenty of time for you. I had factored that into my schedule.”

“Is that before or after you take your drugs?” he asked sweetly. I watched JJ's reaction to this interplay. He was a happy boy, cheerful and playful, but this kind of banter clearly unsettled his psyche.

“Well I think we've had enough time together for today,” Allison said. “We'll see you boys later.”

“They've been here less than half an hour!” Bitty objected. The boys looked at me and I nodded, and they tore off back to their house. “I'm never going to make any progress with them like this.”

“Quite frankly, I don't see you making progress with them at all,” Allison said. “You aren't reaching out to them, you're ordering them around.”

“So now you're an expert on my children?” Bitty demanded.

“That is my job,” Allison replied acidly. “I'm going to recommend that you have some counseling before you see the boys again.”

“And I'm going to recommend that they fire your ass,” Bitty snapped back. She got up, glared at both of us, and stormed out.

“These meetings are counterproductive,” Allison said to me.

“I agree,” I told her candidly.

“If Ms Schluter can get some counseling, some coaching, then I'd like to try again, but I'd like her to meet with the boys individually.”

I wasn't sure what to think about that, so I stalled. “I'm unsure as to whether all the parties would be happy with that.”

“Well,” she said, getting up, “that's going to be my recommendation.” And then she let herself out and I stopped the camcorder and took the third tape over to Brad.

“How was it?” he asked me nervously.

“Quite impressive,” I told him. “You and Jeanine must watch this tape.”

“Why?” he asked. “Was Bitty actually nice?”

“Hardly,” I said and chuckled. “But Darius was brilliant.” He raised an eyebrow and I left him to wander back to my world. I paused in my great room to marvel at how over just a few weeks things had sort of shaken themselves up, and then sorted themselves out.

Max, Cody, and Marcel were the biggest surprise. I'd expected Max and Marcel to re-bond, to spend all of their time together, in isolation. Instead, they'd formed an almost permanent ménage-a-trois with Cody. I chided myself for thinking it odd. Judging people and their sexual activities, when they were consensual, was not my normal modus-operandi. Just because it was odd didn't mean it was bad. In the end I gave Cody the credit. He had an amazing ability to move into a relationship and be part of it without causing any harm.

Alejandro and Casey were much more straightforward. They were two young guys that were either in love with each other, or falling in love with each other. The part of me that was shallow attributed it to Casey's amazing transformation. Cody had him on a strict workout and diet routine now, and even though it had only been a short period of time, he was shedding his chubby exterior at an amazing rate. He'd gone from Dork to Hot Guy since he'd been here.

I walked into the bedroom and fell onto the bed next to JP. He was lounging around reading one of his intensely boring journals, and he gave me a brief look of irritation at being interrupted before transforming it into a smile. “We should run off somewhere, just you and me, and leave all these people to solve their own problems.”

“It went that well, eh?” he joked.

“The kids hate Bitty and she clearly has no love for them,” I said sadly. “This is obviously just some power game she's playing, and all it is doing is messing with their psyches.”

“You think it is damaging the kids?” he asked, concerned.

“I do. JJ is obviously affected, because he is so happy and cheerful. Without Darius around, he'd probably be willing to give her a chance, or at least play with her. But the tension, and the fear of leaving his home behind, must weigh on him behind that happy façade.”

“What about Darius?” JP asked.

“He makes no bones about how he feels. He hates her. You should have seen him today. He was brilliant. He led her right into a trap and slammed it shut. He will probably end up in Ace's law firm.”

JP laughed at that. “Probably.”

“I find that I am looking forward to moving to Palo Alto,” I told him honestly. “At the same time, I cannot leave all these loose ends unraveled.”

“Well, Brad will work things out soon enough, and once school starts, I'd assume that they'd be staying here for the term.”

“What should I do about Alejandro?” I asked. “Should we leave him here with Brad, or take him with us to Palo Alto?”

“I think we should take him to visit Palo Alto, and then let him make up his mind, as long as his staying here is alright with Brad and Robbie, or Cody.” I nodded and tilted my head back to look up at him.

“Without you here, I would be in hell,” I said to him affectionately.

August 4, 1995

There was a loud knock at my bedroom door. I looked at the digital clock next to the bed. 4:30am. What the fuck? “Come in!” I yelled, my voice sounding hoarse.

Rosa peeked in nervously. “Mr. Stefan, there are police officers here to see you.” She was near panic. I thought about asking her what they wanted, but that would be a waste of time.

“Very well. I will be right down.” I nudged JP awake. “There are police officers here to see me.”

“What? Now? Why?”

“You are full of questions,” I teased. “Put on your robe and come find out.” We walked down the stairs, trying to seem awake.

“I am Stefan Schluter,” I said to a man in a suit. There were two uniformed policemen with him. “What can I do for you?” I saw JP walk over to the camcorder.

“I am Detective Harmon, of the Los Angeles Police Department. You are Beatrice Schluter's next of kin?” he asked.

Technically her brother in Claremont was closer to her than I was, and even Brad, her half-brother, was a nearer relation, but there was no reason to split hairs at this point. “She is my cousin,” I said. “Why?”

“She was found in her hotel room last night. She is dead,” he said bluntly.

“How did she die?” I asked.

“You are not sorry that she is dead?” he asked.

“It is 4:30 in the morning. I am lucky to be coherent,” I snapped.

“Coherent? Are you usually intoxicated in the morning?” he asked with a sneer.

“No, I am normally asleep at this time of night,” I said rudely. “How did she die?”

“She overdosed on drugs,” he said. I just nodded. “You are not surprised?”

“She has a long history of drug abuse,” I told him. “She's been to a string of rehab centers. Only recently has she been able to pull herself out of it.”

“What drugs did she abuse?” he asked.

“In the past, she seemed to primarily use crack,” I said. “What did she overdose on?”

“We aren't sure yet, but there was a crack pipe in her room,” he said. “Didn't you try and help her?”

“Save your moralizing for your own family, Detective,” I snapped. “My grandmother and I spent a lot of money, time and effort trying to dry her out. Every time she went back to drugs.”

“I am getting the feeling that you didn't care for her very much,” he said.

“She was a difficult person,” I said. “It is not that I did not care for her, it is that I found her hard to help. But in any event, I am not sure that I see how any of this is relevant to her death.”

“We are not convinced her overdose was accidental,” he said.

“Indeed?” I asked. “What makes you say that?”

“She was spotted with a young Latino male earlier, before she was discovered in her room. From what we can gather, it seems that he met her at a nearby bar and she brought him back to her room.” I just stared at him, waiting. “There is evidence of sexual activity.”

“I am curious as to why her having sex with a Latino male makes you suspect foul play. Unless of course all the reports of racism in the LAPD that are surfacing as part of this OJ trial are true?” I saw fire flash across his eyes and knew I'd pissed him off. Good.

“There is no racism in the Los Angeles Police Department,” he asserted.

“Then why does her sexual relationship with a Latino man indicate foul play?” I asked.

“It does not,” he said.

“Then what does?”

“We're not at liberty to divulge all of our evidence,” he said.

“Well Detective, let me tell you what I plan to do. I plan to show you and your fine friends here out. Then I plan to go back to bed and wake up in a few hours. The first thing I will do is contact my lawyer and make arrangements to have an autopsy done. If you have any questions for me after that, we will be happy to assist you.”

“An autopsy is already being arranged,” he said.

“And a second, private one will also be done,” I said. “Just in case you miss some Latino DNA.” He glared at me and I glared back, then he turned on his heel and stormed out, the policemen following him. JP walked over and clicked off the camcorder. That was becoming a useful little device.

“You weren't exactly your charming self,” he joked. “So she died of a drug overdose?”

“So it seems,” I said. “Do you think it was self inflicted, or do you think she had help?”

“Hard to say,” he said. “Hard to feel bad about it either way.”

I nodded. And that was at the core of my bitchiness, and that was why I'd been so rude to the detective. Bitty was dead, and I didn't care. In fact, if anything, I was relieved. And that made me feel like a monster. The fact that I was able to go back to sleep for another few hours just made me feel guiltier.

I got up at 7:00am and headed next door to track down Brad. He and Robbie were in bed, sprawled across each other. They were both such handsome men, I thought, admiring their physiques, but even more, admiring the way they molded themselves together even in their sleep. Robbie was on his back and Brad was on top of him, so I jumped into the bed and jarred them awake, then snuggled up to Robbie. Doing that was always a conflicting experience, reminding me of how much I cared about him, and also bringing back vivid memories of Jeff.

“Morning Stef,” he said playfully. “You here for a threesome?”

“In my dreams,” I said, and winked at Brad. “Sleeping with Brad would be incest, but you, now that's a different story,” I said with a leer at Robbie, and flicked my tongue across his nipple. They both laughed.

“What do you want?” Brad asked, pretending to be irritated.

“I got a visit from the police earlier this morning at 4:30,” I told him. Now I had their attention. “It seems Bitty is dead.” I watched Brad start to smile, then try to hide it. Then I saw him feel guilty.

“How did it happen?” Robbie asked.

“Drug overdose. Crack. They suspect foul play because someone spotted a Latino man going into her room with her. They claim there is evidence of sexual activity.”

“What makes them think there's foul play?” Brad asked.

I laughed. “I asked the same thing, and the detective managed to piss me off enough that I suggested that perhaps it is this rampant racism we've been hearing about in the OJ trial.”

“See,” he told me. “I told you watching that would pay off.”

“I need to go call Christopher,” I said, referring to my attorney.

“If Christopher's coming over, I'm getting up,” Brad said. Christopher was a hunk.

“Which one of you has his hand on my dick?” Robbie asked. I reached down and played with his balls.

“It is not me. I am playing with your balls.” He just shook his head. I leaned up and gave him a kiss. “When you are done fucking, I will see you downstairs.” Brad was already moving Robbie over onto his side and pushing into him before I walked out the door. They made me so horny I went back to my house, woke JP up, and made him fuck me.

 

I sat on the patio drinking my morning tea, letting the sound of the waves calm me. Christopher was due to come over this afternoon to meet with me and watch the tape of my encounter with the cops. He promised he'd do some research on their case first. I felt no remorse for Bitty’s death, only guilt at not feeling remorse. That would have to do. The door opened and Darius came out, followed by JJ. That made me smile. They always made me smile.

“Well good morning,” I said. “Would you like some tea?”

“I like coming over here in the morning because you have tea,” JJ said happily as I poured him a cup. “Coffee sucks.”

“Then I must make sure to always have tea around,” I said to him affectionately.

“So my mother is dead?” Darius asked. I nodded. “Good.”

“She was a woman with many problems,” I said.

“She tried to ruin our lives,” he said adamantly.

I sighed. “When you have someone like her in your life, it can be very upsetting. You do not feel bad that she died?” He shook his head. JJ just looked at me. “There will come a time that you will feel guilty for not feeling bad. You must not let that feeling of guilt survive. You must try to remember the good times you had with her.”

“There were no good times with her,” JJ said. He was right.

“Well then, so much for my sage advice,” I said, smiling. That got a big grin from Darius. He was mature beyond his years, and the one thing he hated more than anything was being treated like a child. “Perhaps there is a lesson we can all learn from this.”

“What's that?” Darius asked me suspiciously.

“We must make sure that we are good people, so that someday, when it is our turn to die, people actually have good memories of us.”

They both looked at me and smiled. “That makes sense,” Darius said. “Dad says you're moving to Escorial soon.”

“I will be living up there with JP now that we are a couple,” I said. “We will try to spend our summers here.”

“I'll miss you,” JJ said. I felt my eyes watering.

“I will miss you too, but you will be busy with school, and we can always see each other on weekends. It is only a short flight,” I said.

“It won't be the same,” JJ persisted.

“It will not be,” I agreed. “But I will always be there for you.”

“But not for me?” Darius asked, teasing me. Was he flirting with me now? He was going to be a handful.

“No, not for you. You are too big of a pain in the ass,” I teased back, and made him laugh. “Of course I will be there for you.” The door opened and Marcel, Max, and Cody came wandering out.

“We surfing later?” Darius asked Max.

“Fer sure,” Max said and tousled his hair. Darius was a good surfer. JJ tried, but could never quite get the hang of it. Athletics weren't his thing. But of the three of them, Will was actually the best surfer. He had all of his father's talent, and all of his seriousness too. It was amazing to me that none of that seemed to bother JJ, to see his brothers excel at something he couldn't quite master. In any event, the promise of company on the beach sent them scurrying off to get their bathing suits on.

“We need to get back to Chicago,” Marcel said, breaking the news to me that I knew was coming, but I dreaded. “There's a lot to do, and now that the heat is at least bearable, we figured we'd head back.”

“I will miss having you around,” I said sincerely. I looked at Cody, trying to read him, but his face was impassive. That told me more than anything just how sad this would be for him. “Does this mean you will come hang out with JP and me?” I said to him, trying to tease him.

“Maybe,” he teased back. Then he winked at me. “They say over 700 people died in that heat wave.” Nice change of subject.

“It's horrible,” Max agreed. “So we planned to fly out tomorrow. We thought maybe we could go out tonight, a last fling?”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said. “I will inform JP.”

“Not ask him?” Marcel said, smiling.

“I am in control of his social calendar,” I said authoritatively. “Bitty died last night.”

“That's too bad,” Max said.

“Not really,” Marcel said. “What a bitch.”

“You shouldn't talk that way about the dead!” Max objected.

“You should if it's true,” Cody said.

Max and Cody wolfed down some breakfast then took off, leaving me alone with Marcel.

“I'm worried about Cody,” he said.

“You will forgive me if I seem surprised,” I said with a smile.

“I've grown to appreciate him,” Marcel said, slightly irritated.

“All eight inches?” I teased back. He giggled and shook his head.

“That's bullshit and you know it. He's a great guy. I owe him so much. He's helped us come together like never before.”

“So you have mastered simultaneous orgasms,” I teased, and couldn't help laughing at my own joke. Neither could he.

“Absolutely,” Marcel said. “You will keep him company when we are gone? At least for a bit?”

“I will.” There really was only one thing I wouldn't do for Cody, and that was to give up JP.

As if by thinking about him I made him materialize, JP came out and grabbed a bagel. “Marcel and Max are going home tomorrow,” I told him. “We're going out with them tonight.”

“Fine,” he said.

“See,” I told Marcel. “He does what I tell him to do.”

“Unless we're in bed,” JP said with an evil grin. “Then I'm in charge.”

“Not all the time stud,” I teased back. Marcel just shook his head.

“I’d better go out and surf with them,” Marcel said. “They need me out there to make them look good.” We watched him walk off, looking so much like his father. Even his walk was just like Jeff's, smooth and confident. JP and I just sat there together, enjoying the gentle quiet of the morning surf. That was the beauty of being with someone like him. We didn't need to talk all the time. We could just be together.

The door opened again and I began to feel as if I were at Grand Central Station. I looked at JP and he smiled at me, reading my mind, and telling me with his eyes that we were becoming old men who liked to hang out and enjoy the peace and quiet.

“You are up early,” I said to Alejandro. “Where is your boyfriend?”

“He is still sleeping,” he said. “I will wake him up in a minute, in my own way.” We laughed.

“So what do you want?” JP asked him in a friendly tone.

“Some advice,” he said. That really got our attention. “I want Casey to fuck me, but it hurts.”

“STAY!” I said to JP as he made to get up and leave. He rolled his eyes and sat back down. He really did listen to me. Wow. Then I turned to Alejandro, determined to have fun with this. “You know about safe sex, how you must use condoms?”

“We're virgins,” he said adamantly. “But I know the drill.”

“It hurts because you are not ready,” I said.

“I'm ready. I'm old enough. I didn't expect shit like that from you,” he said, pissed off, and got up to leave.

“That is not what I meant. Sit down,” I said. “I meant that you have not prepared yourself physically.”

“Oh,” he said, looking guilty. JP giggled.

“You cannot just stick a big thing like a dick in your ass without loosening yourself up first. You must have him probe you with a finger or two to get you accustomed to it. And you must use a lot of lube.”

“Spit isn't enough?” he asked. I laughed as I saw JP cringe.

“Not for your first time anyway.”

“What if I don't like it?” he asked.

“Then you do not do it. Some men really enjoy getting fucked. JP for example. You should see him during sex. He's a wild man,” I teased.

JP blushed furiously. “I'm out of here,” he said, getting up.

“No, please stay,” Alejandro said. JP glared at me and I just laughed at him. “It feels good?”

“Your prostate gland is next to your rectal wall,” JP said, sounding scientific, which made me giggle even more. “When you are fucked, if you position yourself right, his dick will rub against your prostate. That feels good.”

“When you do it, it feels amazing,” I said to him and made him blush even more. Alejandro giggled too. Then he got up and gave JP a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he said. JP was grinning and blushing now, a funnier thing was hard to imagine. “What was all the commotion about this morning?”

“Bitty died,” I said simply.

“About time,” Alejandro said. JP and I just stared at him.

“What do you mean by that?” JP asked.

“Nothing,” he said, and headed back inside. JP and I just stared at each other, horrified.

“Alejandro!” I yelled. That was rare. I never yelled. He came back out on the patio.

“Yes?”

“Did you have something to do with her death?” I asked.

“You are accusing me of murder?” he asked.

“If you did, you must tell no one. No one. Do you understand?” JP said, being practical.

“I understand,” he said.

“I want to make sure that you do,” JP said firmly. “If, hypothetically speaking, you mentioned this problem we were having with Bitty to your father, and if he then hypothetically solved that problem by doing her in, you could be in big trouble if it got out.” I just stared at JP, stunned at how fast he put this all together.

“I know,” Alejandro said indignantly.

“Your boyfriend's father is a cop,” I reminded him. “You did not tell Casey anything did you?”

“There is nothing to tell,” he said, clearly lying. “But no, I didn't say anything to Casey.” I looked into his eyes, and I believed the last part. We stared at him. “And I won't.”

“We will talk about this la...” I started to say later, but JP cut me off.

“Never again! We will talk about this never again,” JP said so forcefully it was a little scary. “None of us know how she died, do we?”

“No,” Alejandro said, shaking his head with a slight grin. I stared at both of them and shook my head too. I suddenly felt very dirty, very unclean, and excused myself to go upstairs to see if another shower would make me feel better.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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Chapter Comments

With Bitty dead most of Brads legal problems are over as far as the boys are concerned. The young Latino male the police were asking about could have been Alejandro if not him it was someone from his father's group. I'm glad that with Casey around he's started opening up more and coming out of his shell. Things seem to be looking brighter for Max and Marcello,since he got out of the hospital they appear to be doing be doing better to me. It's because of Cozy and his amazing talents.

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On 12/2/2013 at 4:20 PM, PrivateTim said:

Ah the good old days when the Schluters & Cramptons just killed off assholes. When did they turn into such pussies!

They had to clean things up a bit once 

Spoiler

Wade entered the scene. You couldn't just kill people off willy nilly if you're entangled with a powerful political family. But just give Will and JJ some time.

 

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