Man In Motion - 22. Prison

December 13, 1985

Paris, France

“Why don't you guys wake up and join us for dinner,” I heard JP say. I looked over my shoulder to find him staring down at us sprawled naked on the bed, with a slight grin on his face.

“Give us a little time to shower,” I said groggily. I looked at the clock and saw that we'd slept through the afternoon. I elbowed Robbie to wake him up. “Come on, time to get up and go out to eat.”

“Eat?” he asked. His huge appetite was notorious. We took a fast shower and joined JP and Mouse for a nice meal.

“So you guys decided to get kinky again,” JP commented. I just stared at him, so pissed that he'd bring that up. I was about to go off on him for commenting on something that was none of his fucking business, but I opted for a different approach.

“Yeah, it was awesome,” I said. “Mouse came in and watched us, and that made it even hotter.” I smiled internally as I saw how much that irritated him, so happy that my strategy had worked.

“I'm not sure if I could handle that,” Mouse said, trying to imagine what it would be like. “But damn, it sure looked like fun.” That comment got me another dirty look from JP.

“You should try it,” I said, and watched JP's look go from dirty to downright pissed, and then I figured out why he was so mad. Mouse was probably bugging him to try it, and he didn't want to. “It’s not all that hard once you get the hang of it. I can show you how to do it.” It was all I could do not to laugh my ass off at JP.

Either Robbie hadn't picked up on all the nuances, or he was being self-absorbed, because he seemed to think that the conversation was all about him and that JP was judging him. “It's been six months since last time,” Robbie said. He was embarrassed and blushing, which just made him adorable. “I think it will be OK if we don't do it very often.”

“I totally agree,” I said to him. “Besides, it really is no one’s business what we do in our own bedroom.” I gave JP a smarmy look as I said that last comment, and watched that completely freak him out.

JP beat a hasty retreat. “I didn't mean to imply there was something wrong with it Robbie. You are adults and can do whatever you want, as long as you both consent.”

“Brad looked like he was consenting pretty well,” Mouse teased, clearly trying to torture JP.

“I’ll have to ask Mother about the etiquette rules for nosing into someone else’s sex life,” I said to JP, making his eyes bulge. That prompted Mouse, Robbie, and me to laugh our asses off at him, and we ended up having a really nice dinner. I was looking forward to following up a great meal by having a great evening, but that plan was ruined when we came home from the restaurant and found Robbie's lawyer waiting for us. His name was Pierre Leclerc. I was surprised to find Albert with him.

“Good evening gentlemen,” JP said courteously, leading them into our apartment. “What can we do for you?”

“I have come to warn you that the prosecutor has approached the judge and asked that Robbie be taken back into custody,” Pierre said.

“Why?” Robbie asked. I watched him slowly freak out until he was almost completely panicked.

“There are the proffered answers, but they are nonsensical,” Albert said dismissively. “The truth of the matter is that someone is pulling strings. It seems that this is now a political matter as well.”

“Pulling strings?” I asked. “You mean there's someone out there with lots of power who wants Robbie in jail?” The surprise was obvious in my voice.

“So it seems,” Albert said. “We are not sure who it is yet, but we are trying to find out.”

“Neil came from a white trash family. They lived in a trailer home and didn’t have any money,” Robbie said. “Jerk didn’t have a lot of money either.” I looked at JP and he seemed as confused about this as I was. If those two were broke, who was causing Robbie problems?

“So it must be someone else,” Albert said, stating the obvious. “I think that we are up against a bigger foe than we thought. It is time to call in reinforcements. I would like to develop a plan for that if you have time.”

“That's fine,” Robbie said. “When will I have to go back to jail?” The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking.

“If they are successful, tomorrow morning,” Pierre said. Robbie’s lawyer was good in the courtroom, but he wasn’t as smooth as Albert when explaining things. “We have a hearing at 9am and we are first on the docket. It is obviously being given a great deal of prominence since they are having the hearing on a Saturday.”

Albert took over. Apparently he was the one responsible for figuring out the behind-the-scenes issues. “I want to bring in two private investigators. One of them will be tasked to evaluate the police work that is being done, and the other one will focus on looking at the case itself,” he said.

“I’m fine with that,” I said. “Why do you think we need to do that?”

“I think there were significant errors that were made at the scene of Mr. Gardner's murder, possibly enough to negate their case,” Albert said. “I found out that Mr. Kohl is, amazingly, still in France. It seems he is cooperating with the police. Feeding them those pictures was his work. As a result he has not been investigated. I hope to change that.”

“That sounds excellent,” JP said.

“There are also police jurisdictional issues. Whoever our opponent is, he is well connected with city officials. I am hoping that his connections at the national level are not so strong.” Albert paused, as if trying to decide whether to go further, then continued. “There is a disturbing rumor, one that I am unwilling to discount, that there is a press conference scheduled for tomorrow around 11am. I am concerned that the police will make the case public and attempt to sensationalize it. That will complicate things, to say the least.”

“Fuck,” Robbie said. He was totally distraught. “I'll be in all the papers.” That was pretty horrifying.

“You will,” Albert agreed, then focus on me. “And so will you.”

“Why me?” I asked. It was impossible to hide how upset that made me. I was an inherently shy person, so being featured in a murder trial was way more attention than I wanted.

“You are the cuckolded lover,” Albert said. Robbie cringed at that, but I was freaking out about this potential publicity, so in this case, I was focused more on myself. “It will be even more exciting since you and Mr. Gardner are all Americans, you are all three men, and you are all three gay. Once this story hits, or perhaps even before, you will be subjected to the French paparazzi. That will not be pleasant.”

“Fuck,” I heard myself say.

Albert ignored my issues and turned his attention to JP. “We will need you to pull in all of your favors with your embassy. They may be able to exert pressure at the national level, enough pressure to pull this case from the city police.”

“Will that be enough?” JP asked. Even he seemed unusually upset about all of this.

“That is my hope,” Albert said. “I am betting that the city police, in their desire for a victory to please their patron, will make this such a big deal that, with a little pressure from your government, it will be pulled up to the national level.”

“How will that help?” I asked. It seemed that would only make this a bigger deal.

“Because while it is difficult to play games at the city court level, it is not impossible,” Albert said. “Once a case is raised to the national level, the scrutiny it receives makes it much more difficult to obscure the facts.”

“That makes sense,” I said, although my mind was so blown by all of this, in reality nothing made sense.

“Between Stef, my brother, and me we should be able to exert some influence,” JP said calmly. 'Some influence.' That almost made me laugh. Greg had been a huge donor to politicians in California, and Jim had inherited all of Grand's contacts in Ohio.

“As of tomorrow, I want you to have a dedicated car and driver, in addition to your security person who should be with you in public at all times,” Albert said. “You will need them to fend off the press. I want you to say nothing to them. No good can come from talking to them. Refer them to us.” We all nodded.

“You will, of course, have it the worst,” Pierre said to Robbie. “I will do what I can to make sure you are as comfortable as possible, and I will do my best to make sure you are, uh, safe.” That last sentence was a gentle reference to prison violence.

“Thanks,” Robbie said. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking.

We sat there, all four of us, very depressed, staring at these two lawyers who seemed to be moving heaven and earth to watch out for us. “There is one more thing,” Pierre said, looking at JP, Mouse and me. “I think it would be a good idea for the three of you to take a brief vacation from France. Perhaps you could go home for a visit?”

“I'm not going anywhere without Robbie,” I said adamantly.

“I understand how you feel,” Albert said. “But we will want to calm things down after the hearing. If you are here, you will be tailed constantly, and that will make for constant fodder for the press. You may want to be here, but your presence will just stir things up. If you want to help Robbie, you will leave for a bit, perhaps a week.”

“Brad, go,” Robbie said, making it sound like an order. He realized that wasn’t going to work, so he explained himself. “What are you going to do here? Come down and lurk at the jail? That's bullshit. Go see your new nephew. Go back to California. These guys will watch out for me.”

“I am not going to desert you,” I said firmly.

“You don't get it,” he said. As firm as I was, he was even firmer. His eyes demanded that I do what he asked. “I know you're not deserting me. I know that you're there for me whenever I need you. But if you stay here to try and help me and that just fucks things up, that's no good either, is it?”

I sighed. “I'll think about it.”

“Excellent. Then we will see you at the courthouse tomorrow morning. Please do not do anything foolish like leaving the country,” Pierre said. “We will win this case; it is only a matter of time. If you flee, the French Government will have you extradited from wherever you end up.”

“I'm not running away. I'm not guilty,” Robbie asserted. He glared at me, warning me not to admit that I was.

“You are not. Trust me to prove that,” Pierre said.

The lawyers left and JP gave Robbie a big hug. “We will get you out of this. Don’t worry.” I don’t think I'd ever heard him that determined. “I'm going to let you two enjoy your time together. I have some calls to make.”

“Thanks,” Robbie said, and dragged me back to our room. He turned to me as soon as we got there. “You have to listen to them. You have to go.”

“I don't want to,” I said obstinately. He smiled at me, compelling me to do whatever he wanted just with his charm. “Okay.”

“Thanks. I'll be fine,” he said, which was bullshit, because he had no way of knowing how things would work out. “If you stay here, I'll worry about you. This way, while I'm dealing with this, I only have to worry about myself.”

“I don't think you should be in there at all,” I said, going down the path that both of us knew was coming.

“We talked about this Brad. Please, can we just not argue anymore? I may be gone awhile. Give me something to remember.” His voice was pleading. I realized that nothing I said would change his mind, and that he was the one holding all the cards, at least as far as my admitting to killing Neil went. He didn’t need an argument; he needed love.

I moved in and kissed him gently, and then passionately, and then we made love, rough, like he liked it sometimes, rough enough to satisfy our raw lust. When we were done, I lay there in my favorite position, on his chest. Usually I was content, but this time I was miserable, knowing that it would be at least a week before I could see him again.

“I'm hoping I'm out in a week but we don't know for sure how long it will be,” Robbie said. “I wanna ask you a favor.”

I smiled up at him. “Anything.” I was thinking that we'd have to do that fisting thing again, which I'd do if he wanted, but I really didn't want to.

“I want you to feel free to be with other people while I'm in jail, except for one guy,” he said.

That totally blew my mind because it had nothing at all to do with my fist, and because it came from left field. “What are you talking about? It's only a week.”

“I know it’s only a week,” he said. I was really mad that he seemed to think I had such limited willpower that I could resist fucking around on him for a week.

I had no idea why he was bringing this up, so I opted to distract myself by satisfying my curiosity. “Who's the one guy?”

“Max.”

“Why Max?” I asked, knowing full well why Max was the guy he wanted me to not sleep with.

“Because if you sleep with Max, it would mean more than just a fuck.” He was right and I knew it, so I didn’t even try to argue about it.

“You’re only going to be in jail for a week,” I said, reverting back to the main topic. “You think I'm so horny, that I am so untrustworthy, that I can't wait a week without getting laid?” I wasn't following him.

“That’s not it at all,” he snapped. “It may be more than a week. And when I'm in jail, I may not have any choice about whether I have sex or not.” He grimaced and so did I. Robbie in prison, with his kinky side, scared the absolute shit out of me.

“You have to be safe, even there.”

“I'll do my best,” he said, making me feel like an idiot. Of course he would.

“There's a difference between me getting horny and you getting raped,” I argued.

“I'm really nervous about that,” he said, opening up to me. I just stroked his chest gently. “I thought about it the other day, about a bunch of guys pinning me down and fucking me. I kept having flashbacks to the locker room. Thinking about it got me hard as a fucking rock. I'm worried that this will really fuck me up.”

I was about to raise the issue, again, that he should let me go instead. It was my fault. But I realized that he was opening up to me, telling me his most personal fears and feelings, and that this was not the time to argue. “You know, after we got back to California after graduation, you got into therapy right away and kicked the fisting obsession really fast. You impressed me so much with your strength and your resolve. I mean, you were amazing. When you get out, we'll go see the doctor again. And just like you did before, you’ll overcome whatever shit they do to you in jail.”

“Thanks. I love you,” he said.

I rolled away from him, rubbing my ass against his leg. “Show me.” And this time, when we made love, it was gentle and emotional, almost a spiritual bonding.

December 14, 1985

Paris, France

I knew this was going to be a total shit show from the moment we drove up to the courthouse. There were reporters waiting for us, and as soon as we got out of the car, the cameras flashed at us. I ruefully thought that it was like attending the Academy Awards with Greg. The press refused to move until the police pushed them back, carving a path for us. Our security guy led the way, keeping them away from us. From the car to the courthouse door, the reporters pelted us with questions and taunts. I smiled and just pretended that I didn’t understand French.

As soon as we got inside the courthouse, Albert greeted us and led us off to a side room. The room felt like a safe haven, with only JP, Robbie, me, and Albert inside. That simple walk from the car to this room had exhausted me. I thought with relief that we'd be out of here soon, and then felt guilty, yet again, for leaving Robbie to take the fall for me. Then suddenly, as if someone had cast a spell on me and given me clarity, I finally got some resolve. This was bullshit. I needed to grow a pair, own up to my mistakes, and pay for my sins. There was no way I could let Robbie endure the hell of jail for something I’d done. I was going to have to actually convince the judge that I was guilty, whether Robbie cooperated with me or not. It was the right thing to do. I couldn't believe I’d hesitated a moment. What a selfish bastard I had been.

“We have news,” Albert said, interrupting my moral ruminations. We stared at him, waiting for him to enlighten us. “The cause of death was strangulation.”

“Not drowning?” Robbie asked.

“No. Strangulation,” Albert said. “They found marks around his neck, marks that looked like they were made with a belt.” Robbie looked at me strangely, but I couldn't read his expression.

“I didn't strangle him,” I said. “I didn't kill him.” I felt relieved, then elated that I didn't have Neil’s blood on my hands. I felt even better knowing that I'd gotten the satisfaction of hurting him without killing him. Then I became almost euphoric when I realized I felt no guilt at all for assaulting him or for my sadistic thoughts.

“See Brad,” Robbie said. “Aren't you glad you didn't try to confess?” And then my euphoria vanished as I remembered that, while I was innocent, Robbie was about to go into a hearing and get thrown in jail. The fact that I hadn’t killed Neil didn’t make that any better.

“They are ready for us. We must go,” Pierre said as he bustled into the room. We all got up and headed into the courtroom.

Albert grabbed my thigh excitedly as we sat down. “Is that not wonderful news? I am so glad that you did not do it!” I looked at him to say thank you with my eyes, but I could no longer feel joy. Instead, I let my mind get absorbed by this charade. It was the same dreary thing that we'd been through before, with the long pronouncements, the reading of the forms, and the lengthy preamble. I let out a sigh of relief when the actual hearing started.

“Your honor, we have new evidence to present, showing that Mr. Hayes strangled Mr. Gardner with this belt,” the prosecutor said, holding up a plastic bag with a rolled-up belt in it. They argued about the evidence for a while.

Albert shrugged and leaned over to talk to me. “So they found a belt. It does not mean that he did it.” He may have been right, but Robbie looked worried, really worried, even though he kept his cool.

“You will find, upon inspection, that the belt belongs to Mr. Hayes, as is evidenced by the monogram.” I looked up at the bag again and froze. I knew that belt. That was Robbie's belt.

“That, on the other hand, is not good,” Albert said. I looked over at JP and raised an eyebrow. Did Robbie do it? I thought about that possibility and then shut it out of my mind. I had to believe whatever he told me, and I had to fight to prove his innocence, but in the privacy of my own mind, that didn't mean I had to be blind.

“In addition, we have photographs showing Mr. Hayes and Mr. Gardner engaged in a sex act while Mr. Hayes was visibly strangling Mr. Gardner with the belt,” the prosecutor said smugly. The courtroom exploded with activity as everyone went nuts. The judge was calling for order, while Robbie whispered frantically at Pierre, who stood up and began objecting most urgently.

“And that is really not good,” Albert said, shaking his head.

“Could the pictures have been altered?” I asked.

He stroked his chin. “We will have them checked. They claimed to have prior pictures. We will need to have them compared, to make sure they are not the same ones.” We needed a counter-punch; we needed a body blow, but we didn't have one.

Robbie turned back to look at me and we locked eyes. I told him that I loved him, and that I was behind him. He smiled at me furtively because he’d read my mind, then he turned back to pay attention to the court. The rest of the hearing went quickly enough, what with that damning evidence, and they took Robbie back into custody, this time with no bail.

When the thing was over, Albert escorted us to a side room and shut the door. “This is either really bad news for Mr. Hayes, or really good news.”

“How could it possibly be good news?” JP asked.

“Brad suggested we have the photos analyzed,” he said, targeting the credit to me. I rolled my eyes at him because he would have thought of it anyway, and all he was doing now was stroking my ego. “If they are not authentic, the prosecution’s whole case would seem to be suspect. In any event, Mr. Hayes will be in jail for at least a week, so you must do as I ask and leave.”

“Can I see him?” I asked. He was going to argue with me, then ran off to check. I got the feeling that I'd made a subtle deal there, tacitly agreeing that if he got me in to see Robbie, I'd leave France. I decided not to let that bother me, since I knew I had to do that anyway.

Albert came back with a smile and led us to an anteroom off the court where Robbie was conversing with Pierre. “You have one minute, time for a hug and a farewell before the guards drag you out,” he said.

I walked in the room and went up to Robbie. He stood up and we hugged, bonding together as tightly as we could with our clothes on. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” I told him. I felt hands on my shoulders and on my arms as they dragged us apart and pulled me out.

“You are not allowed in there!” the officer yelled.

“I am sorry. I just wanted to say goodbye.” I felt a tear run down my face, which pissed me off, but it seemed to soften up the guard a bit.

He turned to Albert. “Take him away. You must learn to control your clients!”

“I’m sorry if I got you in trouble,” I said to Albert as we walked down the hallway.

“It was no trouble. You risked a club to the head,” he said, grinning. “I guess I should have told you that.”

“I would have done it anyway.” I sighed, pulled myself back together, and handed him an envelope. “I have written addresses, phone numbers, and contacts for all of the places I may be. Please call me if there is news.”

He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheeks in the French way. “I will contact you the minute something new happens. Now brace yourselves.”

We walked out of the building and were mobbed. It was even worse than before. It was such a crush that the reporters pushed us back through the door. The police were holding them back as best they could until they got more help to push them aside and give us a path to the car. When I was at Yale I'd gone into New York and gone to one of those gay dance clubs with the strobe lights. There were so many flashes it felt like that. We got into the car and collapsed into the comfortable seats.

“I see why he wanted us to leave,” JP said. The car took off, heading to Orly. JP didn't say anything because he was being paranoid, worrying that the car was bugged. I was fine with that, because it gave me time to try and make sense of what had happened.

“I'm glad Stefan sent us his plane,” I said to JP when we got to the airport. “De Gaulle would have been a mess.” Mouse was waiting at the plane for us, but we kept our greetings to a minimum because of our desire to get on the plane and get the fuck out of France.

“Welcome aboard,” Eric said. He was truly the sexiest of Stef’s pilots. He smiled at me and shook my hand, letting his fingers linger longer than usual. I grinned back and headed to my seat, then chided myself for being a complete asshole. My boyfriend hadn't been incarcerated for an hour yet and here I was, thinking about fucking the pilot. I was fortunately distracted by our departure; as if to placate our desire to escape we were airborne pretty damn fast.

“That was bad news,” JP said, bringing me out of my trance. “Did he do it?”

“I don't know. I didn't ask him,” I said. “ He didn't tell me that he did, so I'm going to go on the assumption that he didn't.”

“The evidence was pretty incriminating,” JP noted. That would have been annoying if I didn’t understand him, and his need to analyze the data. He was doing just that, and the data were leading him to the conclusion that Robbie had killed Neil, or, at least, that it appeared that way.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” I said with resolution. “I don't really care if he killed Neil. The dude was scum and deserved what he got. So I’m going to assume that Robbie is innocent, and I'm going to fight just as hard to get him out.”

“Of course,” JP said.

I changed the topic. “We need to stop by Claremont on the way home,” I told him. “I promised I'd stop in and see the new baby. Have they named him yet?”

“She called him Jeremy for some reason.” He sighed. “He is still in the hospital. He is a little fighter, but he has had a tough go.”

“Will he be alright?” I asked, now freaked out about that. I knew he was premature, but JP was making it seem as if his life was in danger.

“They are confident he will live, but they are not sure if he will be healthy,” he said somberly.

“Do you know who his father is?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Bitty will not say. She has refused point-blank to discuss it. Not even Tonto could get it out of her.”

“She wanted to tell me last time I saw her,” I told him. “She said she just couldn't.”

“Well, maybe you can find out while we're there. If you can track her down, that is,” JP said, rolling his eyes.

We landed in Claremont around 4pm which seemed pretty early since we’d started out this morning in a Parisian courtroom. Everyone was piling in the cars except me because I’d left some crap on the plane. I was just about to exit and climb down the stairs when I ran into Eric. “Where do you guys stay when you're in town?” I asked.

“Over at the Holiday Inn. It's nice enough,” he said factually, then smiled broadly. “You can call me there if you need anything.”

“I wouldn't want to bother you,” I said.

“I won't be busy.” He just grinned at me. I nodded, then felt guilty for flirting with him.

We drove through this shitty town until we reached Skyline Road, and that took us up into the hills that overlooked Claremont. I marveled that even from a higher altitude and a greater distance, it still looked depressingly run down. We pulled through the familiar gates and up to the familiar house, where we found a welcoming party. Grandmaman was glad to see us, as was Jeanine, but their cheer was nothing compared to Darius’s. Darius just monopolized me, but I didn't mind a bit. When he went down for a nap, Jeanine and I left and headed to the hospital.

We wandered through the halls of Claremont General until we found Jeremy's unit. I looked at him through the window and he looked so small and vulnerable. I could feel the maternal instincts surge in Jeanine so I put my arm around her and she leaned into me, both nice gestures of friendship.

“I'm sorry you missed his baptism,” she said as we watched him. His little mouth seemed to be moving around in a way that made it look like he was chewing someone out. “They were adamant that we do it quickly since he was premature.”

“It's no big deal,” I said. Religion was totally unimportant to me. “When can he come home?”

“They're hoping he'll be home in the next few days.” Jeanine said. We met with the doctors, who confirmed her prediction. It was hard for me to get attached to this squirming little pink thing, but Jeanine had no such qualms. I liked kids that were at least Darius's age.

“Do you plan to stay here for Christmas?” I asked.

She smiled. “Are you inviting me to visit?”

“I am. Want to spend Christmas in California?” Only after I’d invited her did it dawn on me that I may not be there. I started to worry that I’d gotten myself into a bind.

“I would love to, Brad, but I can’t,” she said, and put her hand on my arm to make sure I knew she wasn’t saying no because of me. “Jeremy will be home by then and I'll need to take care of him. He’s too little to travel.”

“Oh,” I said, obviously disappointed. “Bummer.”

“We'll see,” she said, giving me some hope when there probably wasn’t any chance she could make it.

December 15, 1985

Claremont, OH

The car pulled up to Bitty's house. It was a crappy, decrepit shotgun house in one of East Claremont's seedier areas. “Not the kind of place you’d want to go to alone,” said one of the two thugs I'd hired to go with me. Unless you were a gangbanger, you didn’t go into this neighborhood without some kind of escort. Rumor had it even the police weren’t all that happy about patrolling this area.

“That's why you guys are with me,” I said. I thought it was funny that they seemed more nervous than I was. I climbed up the steps to the porch and walked up to the door. I didn't bother to knock, I just went in.

There was a guy lying on the couch in his boxers, his crack pipe and burner visible on the table. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked belligerently. The two thugs materialized behind me and he cowered.

“I'm looking for Bitty,” I said rudely. He gestured toward the bedroom. One thug stayed to keep an eye on the idiot we’d just met, while the other guy wandered through the house with me. It was dirty, not just in a cluttered way, but because there was filth everywhere. I’d crinkled my nose up as I’d walked in, but the stench from the bathroom almost made me puke. I got to the bedroom and found Bitty sprawled across the bed on her back, stark naked. The thug looked at her like he might want to fuck her, but I grabbed a filthy blanket and covered her up before he got too excited.

“Bitty,” I said, shaking her. It took me about five minutes to wake her up.

“Bradley! You're here!” She lunged forward and hugged me. I hugged her back, even though she smelled horrible. The odors in this house and on her seemed to be a combination of human waste, body odor, rotting food, and sex. I bit back the vomit. It smelled like that too.

“Hey there,” I said cheerfully, as if I weren’t in what was probably the nastiest house in the nastiest part of Claremont. “I saw your baby. He looks really cute.”

“I tried so hard, Brad,” she said, sobbing. “He came early. I tried so hard.”

“I know you did,” I said, trying to soothe her. “Grandmaman told me how well you did during the pregnancy. I'm proud of you.” She pulled away from me and grinned, then hugged me again. She was so desperate for love and approval.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, then the bitchy Bitty I’d known most of my life returned. “No one else thinks so,” she said with venom.

“Fuck them,” I said, making her laugh.

“Did you see Darius?” she asked.

“I did. He is awesome.” She nodded.

“His father is gone. He'll need a good male influence. I want that to be you,” she said. She may have been completely fucked up and a total mess, but I could tell she was dead serious when she said that.

“Thanks, Bitty,” I said, and rubbed her back gently. “I will always be there for him.”

“I need you to be there for Jeremy too. He will need you too,” she said urgently, as if I wouldn’t do as she asked unless she got me to promise at that instant.”

“I will watch out for him too, Bitty,” I said, and uttered it like an oath. That seemed to reassure her, but only for a minute, then she got really agitated.

“Brad, you have to get them out of here,” she said, and gripped my hand like a vice. “You have to keep them away from Claremont.”

“What's wrong with Claremont?” I asked. I almost laughed at that question, as if it wasn’t obvious how fucked up this city was, and if I hadn’t been desperate to escape from here every time I visited.

“There are bad people here,” she said, as if in a nightmare, only she was wide awake.

“Who is Jeremy's father?” I asked.

She looked at me and started to talk, then shut up. She seemed to get some resolve, and started to say something, then shut up again. “His middle name is James,” she said. I was about to discard that as babbling, but something told me that was significant.

“That's his father's name,” I said as if stating a fact. She nodded, confirming it without realizing it, then seemed terrified that she’d let that slip. “It’s alright, Bitty,” I said, making sure my voice sounded soothing.

“You know him,” she said, and a tear fell down her face.

“I know him?” I asked, and she nodded. I didn’t know anyone in Claremont named James. What the fuck was she talking about. Then my addled brain remembered that Jim was a nickname for James. Who did I know in Claremont named Jim? It was strange, because as soon as I pondered that, I knew the answer. I only knew one Jim in Claremont. “Uncle Jim?” I asked, which just made her cry harder.

“He meets me at a hotel downtown, pretty much every week,” she said, and seemed in agony. I wanted to ask her why, but she answered the question before I could pose it. “I get money from him, and he gets to fuck me.” It was all I could do to hide how revolted I was that my uncle had made his niece his whore.

“Does he know Jeremy is his kid?” I asked. She shook her head.

“No one knows. Only you,” she said, then got really agitated again. “You can’t tell anyone, Brad. You can't tell anyone.” I didn’t want to make that promise, because I knew that Tonto and JP would ultimately force me to divulge that piece of information. Instead, I changed the subject.

“Bitty, why don't you come out west? Maybe we can get you some help to clean you up.” It seemed like a change of venue could be helpful, especially if it got her away from the fucked-up Cramptons.

She shook her head. “Don't worry about me. Don't. I can take care of myself,” she said with resolve, then got agitated again. “Please just promise me you’ll take care of my kids. Worry about them. Take care of them, Brad. Promise me.”

“I promise,” I said.

I heard the boards in the hallway creaking as someone approached the bedroom. When I looked at the doorway, the guy in boxers was standing there holding his crack pipe with his half-hard dick poking through the slit in front. The thug I’d left to watch him stood behind him, looking amused. Bitty got really agitated, so much that she almost panicked. “You need to go,” she said to me. I kissed her on the cheek, glared at the dude who was with her, then I and my thug entourage left that pit of a house. My insides were completely roiling after what I’d witnessed and after learning who Jeremy’s father was. The overwhelming feeling I had was of being incredibly soiled and dirty. I didn’t say anything on the way back to Grandmaman’s house, but when the thugs dropped me off I made a point to thank them and to pay them well.

The first place I went was Darius’s room. He was really excited to see me, so we went into the playroom and hung out. Mouse strolled in and hung out with us. “Did you see Bitty?” Mouse asked.

“I did. She was marginally coherent.” He studied me as if trying to figure out if those words had hidden meaning. I didn’t want to talk about Bitty, especially not with him. “I need to take a shower.” I left him hanging and sought the shelter of my bedroom.

I spent most of the afternoon reliving my encounter with Bitty and trying to decide what to do. Bitty had asked me to take care of her kids and to get them away from Claremont, and I’d promised to do just that. My course of action was clear. At dinner that night, I dropped my bombshell on the rest of them. “I'd really like Darius and JJ to move out to California as soon as we get Robbie's situation all squared away and we move back.”

“But why?” Grandmaman asked. She was really upset, and I understood why. She adored Darius. JP glared at me, trying to vaporize me with his eyes for upsetting his mother.

“Bitty asked me to keep an eye on them, to be their guardian. I can't do that if they're here,” I said, politely but firmly.

JP intervened. “Brad, they are happy here with Grandmaman.” she held up her hand to cut him off and smiled at me.

“I understand, and I am so proud of you for making that pledge to Bitty and then honoring your word,” she said. Of course when she said that, I immediately felt like total shit for rocking her world.

“Thanks,” I said sheepishly.

“I have grown attached to Darius and Jeanine, and it would be very sad to see them leave,” she said smiling at me. “You will have some challenges when you get home, no?” I nodded. “Get yourself situated, and then, when, what did you call him?”

“JJ,” I said. “His name is Jeremy James Schluter, so I figured calling him JJ was easier.”

“JJ,” she continued. “And so it is. When JJ has come home from the hospital and he is old enough to travel, we will see if we can persuade Jeanine to relocate.” Jeanine looked at me nervously. It suddenly dawned on me that it would be really tough to take Darius and JJ away from her, even tougher than doing that to Grandmaman.

“Would you do that?” I asked her.

“Make me an offer I cannot refuse,” Jeanine joked.

“I’ll do that,” I said, smiling at her. She was becoming a good friend, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I found her really attractive.

“Let us target this summer then,” Grandmaman said. It seemed like this was all too easy, and when I looked at JP he seemed as suspicious as I was.

“What are you not telling us, Mother?” JP asked, ultimately opting to take the direct approach, just as I had.

She swallowed hard. “It seems that my brain is not as big as I thought. It is so large because it is sharing space with a tumor.”

I stared at her in shock, then looked at Jeanine, JP, and Mouse and saw that they weren’t any less stunned than I was. “How are you planning to treat it?” JP asked.

“I am not going to treat it,” she said, then paused, gathering her strength. “The tumor is both malignant and inoperable. Rather than try to fight it, I have decided to enjoy my last days on earth.”

“Is there nothing they can do?” JP asked desperately. He had ceased to be the sage, the rock of strength of our family, and had the air of a little boy who desperately loved his mommy.

“There is not,” she said, and put her hand on JP's shoulder. She seemed to look around and realize that we were all crying like idiots. “You must not be sad for me. I have had a wonderful life, a life that was fulfilling beyond my wildest dreams. I have the best family. I had almost 50 years with a wonderful husband, and I have two wonderful sons. They both have families to be proud of. I even have a nephew that can charm the pants off of anyone, and has,” she said, referring to Stefan and making us all laugh. How typical of her, to take such a horrible topic and ease everyone's pain.

“You are so important to all of us,” JP said. “You must understand how devastating this is.”

“I know, JP,” she said. “But try to help me celebrate the life that I have loved and the time I have left. I do not want to be miserable during my last days, and I don’t want you all to be miserable thinking about how much you will miss me.”

Dinner ended on a somber note. JP locked himself away with his mother, presumably because they had a lot to talk about. I was so worried about him and how he'd handle this. I thought of Jeff and Roger, and was saddened by how much grief he’d had in his life, but he had always been a momma’s boy, and he had always put Grandmaman up on a pedestal. When I’d thought I was going to lose JP to AIDs, I’d felt like my foundation was being ripped out from under me. He must be feeling something similar right now. I was so glad Mouse was here for him to lean on. I headed to bed, sad and depressed.

The solitude that I’d craved when I escaped back to my room now seemed like a curse. I lay in bed, lonely and depressed. I thought about trying to change that, but every option I could think of just brought its own problems. I hated this town, so the last thing I wanted to do was go out and meet people. I briefly thought about trying to track down Eric the sexy pilot, but my mind automatically focused on Robbie. I smiled as I remembered our last night together. It could have made me sad, but I opted to think of it as erotic. I was about to just jack off when there was a knock on my door. “Come in,” I said. I was naked and half hard, so getting out of bed wasn't my first choice.

“Am I bothering you?” Jeanine said, peeking in.

“Not yet,” I said, smiling. She laughed. “Come on in.” I patted the bed next to me and moved over to make room for her. She was wearing a silk robe that made her seem sexier than ever. I felt my dick getting fully hard and tried to adjust my legs to hide it. She sat next to me and I put my arm around her.

“I hope you don't mind me coming into your room,” she said. “I'm just so alone here, and that was sad news. Everyone else seems to have someone to lean on. I needed a friend.”

I pulled her closer to me. “You found one.” Our eyes met, and then a force seemed to lock in, pulling us together like a tractor beam. Suddenly the sadness and mourning were replaced by lust and desire. We moved closer, our lips met, and then her body, so soft, so welcoming, was against mine, with my hard cock pressing against her.

“I want you to make love to me, but I don't want you to think I'm a slut,” she said.

“I want to make love to you, but I don't want you to think I'm straight,” I teased. I felt her hand move down my chest to my crotch and wrap around my dick.

“You are huge! Now I'm nervous,” she teased.

“Do you masturbate?” I asked. She blushed and nodded. “Show me how you do it,” I said. She hesitated so I pulled her robe off, almost ripping it off, to show I was in charge. I moved on top of her, not fully, just enough to make her lie down on the bed. I took her hand and moved it with mine down to her pussy. She was already dripping wet. She played with her clit, guiding my hand along with hers, showing me how to stimulate her.

“You have been with a woman before?” she asked.

“Once, in high school,” I said, whispering in her ear. “But no woman has ever turned me on like you do. I love your sleek sexy body. I've wanted you since I first met you,” I cooed softly in her ear. She moaned and thrust forward, pushing my finger inside her pussy. She guided my finger in and up toward her stomach to a spot that felt not unlike the prostate. I played with it almost like I played with a guy's ass, chuckling to myself at that analogy.

“I want you inside me; I want you inside me now,” she said urgently. I mounted her and slid my cock into her. It was moist, wet, and much looser than a guy's ass, but it was welcoming in a friendly kind of way. She moaned, a high-pitched moan, and wrapped herself around me. I moved in and out of her, slowly at first, then faster, then slowly again. I experimented with positions, moving my body so my dick jabbed her spot. “You are so big I feel your huge dick scraping against my clit. Oh god. You're gonna make me cum!” I kept up my quick pace while she writhed under me, taking her pleasure from my thrusts. I felt her orgasm ebb and felt my own build up, so I started pounding into her. “Oh my god, you're gonna make me cum again,” she said, and really moaned loudly.

“Me too. Me too!” I said loudly in her ear, and then I exploded inside her. When I was done I kissed her gently and lay on my back, with her on my chest. I felt totally content as I stroked her hair lovingly.

“I thought you were a dyke?” I teased.

“I thought you were a fag?” she said.

“I liked that a lot,” I said, smiling at her.

“Me too,” she said, and leaned up to kiss me.

December 16, 1985

Claremont, OH

I woke up in the middle of the night, spooned up behind Jeanine. What was it about her that got me so wound up? No other woman did this to me. Why her? I was hard as a rock, probing the lips of her still-wet pussy. I used my cock to rub up and down her slit, pushing against her clit, to get her really wet, and then I gently pushed in.

“Mmm,” she said and pushed back into me, urging me on. “Oh yeah, Brad. You feel so good.” I reached around and played with her gorgeous boobs, feeling her react to my touches. Then I moved my hand down to her pussy, feeling my cock as it plowed in and out of her. I played with her clit while I fucked her, and that set her free. We moved together, her throbbing and gyrating against me, until I blasted another load into her. She got up after we were done and put on her robe.

“Where are you going?” I asked, disappointed.

“I have to go back to my room in case Darius wakes up,” she said.

“Can I come with you?” I asked. She smiled at me and kissed me.

“If you do, and someone sees you, it could ruin my reputation.”

“It's 1985!” I said.

“And this is Claremont,” she countered. “But you make a very compelling case for me to come to California.” I tried to pull her back, but she slapped my hand playfully and stood up. I went back to sleep, smiling but confused.

I woke up again around 9am and took a shower. I jacked off in the shower thinking about plunging into Robbie's ass. I guess I really was gay. Still, fucking Jeanine had been hot, really hot.