True As It Can Be - 15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15:

There are no words to convey the fear and despair that I felt at these pronouncements from Gary Gaston. In less than 24-hours, I have had to mourn with a grieving friend, be a witness to a horrible sex crime, and now told I am to be rooming with a monster. Unlike Brad, who’s features may be hideous at first sight, Gary was the epitome of male beauty. However, despite his good looks, Gary is the ultimate narcissist. His only goal in life appears to be self-gratification and he doesn’t care who he hurts, or in some cases, actually derives pleasure from other’s pain.

Rumors of his sexual assaults were known against both male and females without proof, his influence with his family’s wealth gave him immunity, and I personally have nearly been attacked by him multiple times. I am certain he was in the girl’s bathroom earlier today, when I heard the scream. Despite giving campus police my testimony, I know he will get away with what he did to that girl. At the thought of the horrible scene of my friend on the floor, my sobs increased. I can imagine all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, if he had me as a roommate.

Gary leers at me, “Oh Beau, you’re crying out of joy. You won’t be homeless, when you are with me, anymore,” he approaches me and his 3 goons block Paki from coming to my side, he whispers, “I’ll leave you naked in a cage with a little water bowl. You’ll pay for all the work I had to put in to get you.”

As my head begins to spin and Gary lays his hand on my forearm, a growl came from the direction of Keller Hall, “Leave him Gary, he’s never going to be yours.”

I clear the tears from my eyes. Brad with a mask over his face is running towards us along with several other people following closely. Warren and Francis are also running and flanking Brad on either side, while Min dressed in black with a white flower in his hair and a somber expression is wheeling himself behind them. Mrs. Potter was coming up behind Min, along with Cook and a well-dressed elderly man in a black suit with a red bowtie and bowler hat. The newcomer in the group was an anachronism, he looked calm and menacing at the same time, despite his advanced age. His appearance belonged in an early 20^th century gangster movie or something, like he will make you an offer you can’t refuse. Too bad, I am in no mood to make a Martin Scorsese or Francis Ford Coppola joke right now.

I run to Brad, who takes me in his arms, he softly assures me as he strokes my tousled brown hair, “He won’t ever get near you, Beau. I swear it.”

Gary speaks with recognition in his voice, “Ah, Brad Brooks, my old friend, how have you been doing? I hope the recovery has been going well.”

Brad calmly replies without any preamble or courtesy, “Let’s cut to the chase Gary, I know what you are, I know what you did today beyond what happened in the library…” Brad hugs me tighter, “You got the University Board of Trustees to bypass the agreement before the deadline that they had with my foundation, so I assume you found out I was here. There will be consequences for that.”

The Dean of student affairs tries to interject, “Mr. Brooks, while the University might have agreed in principle with your requests…”

“Dean William Sikes, I know your wife is Melinda and you have been lobbying the Board of Trustees to make yourself President of the University with the Gaston Family’s support, so we can drop the platitudes and false civility. Bottom-line, you and Gary elbowed the Board to break the secret contract, despite my registration for classes effective today for the Spring semester. I have met my obligations to continue the contract as originally stated,” Brad glances at me with a wink that warms my heart, then continues arguing with Gary, “You have also broken three other clauses by seizing Keller Hall, relocating its residents without notice, and violating non-disclosure. Each violation has penalties of treble damages in succession based on the $5 million my foundation had initially given under the restricted grant contract with the promise of more if I attended the University for a full 4-year program.”

Gary crosses his arms and glares at Brad, “Well, Brad, I see your financial management skills have not degenerated with your looks, but all those points are moot. I’ve agreed to pay for any damages or contract violations made. $15 million is a small price to pay to make this University great again.”

The well-dressed man nears Brad and me, he tips his bowler hat in greeting to Brad before addressing Gary, “Mr. Gaston, I am Peter Brownlow esquire of B.E.N.E Associates LP. Mr. Brad Brooks and his foundation are my clients and I must advise that if the University and you do intend to compensate Mr. Brooks based on penalty clauses due to abrogation of the aforementioned contract, then the penalty is actually $405 million owed. That is due to the terms of the contract, which stated, “each successive violation or termination of the contract will result in treble penalties-based on the funds and value of property granted under the contract, to be factored with prior sections penalties here within this contract at the discretion of Mr. Brad Brooks and his appointed agent”. You would need to produce $405 million wired to Brook foundation accounts no later than 3 business days after termination of the contract, including date of termination. If you do not pay, then additional damage clauses will come into effect and the Brooks Foundation has a legal right through court order to assign a conservator to oversee all the university’s affairs in lieu of the Board of Trustee.”

I have never seen that expression on Gary Gaston, there was frustration and anger along with contempt directed towards Brad. I had no idea that Brad’s contract with the University would have such high penalties for the University, nor would I have suspected that Mr. Brownlow was Brad’s lawyer. The total of the penalty $405 million seems like an astronomical sum. During our first lesson in Economics, we learned that an average United States’ worker makes about $1.7 million in total earnings over their 45-year career. Doing some quick math in my head, it would mean that the penalties in his contract would be equivalent to the lifetime earnings of 238 people.

The Dean turns toward Gary with a concerned expression, “Perhaps, we should reconsider timetables…”

Gary snaps at the Dean, “Shut up,” all pretense and false amicability dropping from Gary as he speaks to Brad, “You were always good with money, but you know $405 million is just a small pothole for me. Give me a week, maybe a month if you’re lucky, but I can pay it,” he points to me, causing me to tremble, “You’ll be begging me to take that little cocksucker off your hands.”

Though angry, I held Brad back. It’s been 3 days since his Methadone treatment and I knew based on both his sexual arousal and his current clear state of mind that Brad was most likely tilting toward the withdrawal-symptom side of his treatment. I’m worried about myself, but I am more worried about Brad, especially with Gary goading him to attack him.

Mr. Brownlow replies to Gary with a menacing grimace, “Mr. Gaston, I would advise you to keep your tone and demeanor civil. Mr. Beau Cocteau as a resident of Keller Hall falls under the provisions and protections under the contract agreed upon between the University and Brooks Foundation. He is not a property for barter, especially under duress as you have implied for sexual favors.”

Gary, recognizing that Mr. Brownlow is still present, frowns, “I can hire a team of lawyers and have them come down on you all. This isn’t over Brad. I proved that I was better than you, once. I can do it again, when you least expect it.”

After Gary storms off with his goons and brother-in-law, the Dean of Student Affairs, Min speaks up first, “Shine e.”

I am not sure what that meant, but I assume it was a Japanese profanity of some sort.

Before I could ask Min for a translation, Paki’s voice to my side adds, “Hambo kunya.”

I turn to face Paki, who is being held by Francis, “I am guessing that means something like “go to hell”, right.”

Paki smile widens, creating a line of white with the mourning white clay on his black skin, “Something like that, I am guessing it’s the same for you too Min.”

Min nods and addresses me, “Are you okay Beau?”

I shake my head, “I’m a little shaken by Gary, but that’s not new. I’m just glad you all weren’t hurt by his thugs,” then I turn to Warren on my other side, “Did you all come out for us?”

Warren’s head angles with curiosity, like an owl, at Brad’s arms wrapped around my waist, “Paki texted Francis. Francis and me were sitting In Min’s room, so news spread quickly that Gary Gaston was outside. Francis found Brad talking to Mr. Brownlow, so we all came out.”

Brad rubs my back, “I registered for classes earlier today and Cook called Mr. Brownlow last night to come by for legal advice during his vacation.”

Mr. Brownlow grunts, “Well, my wife is going to kill me for skipping out on our cruise, but I think she will accept it when I tell her the reason. I usually ignore most client requests during my holiday vacation, even Brad’s billionaire parents several times, no matter how much money gets thrown my way. However, I make an exception for our boy, Evan.”

At the mention of his real name, I glanced at Cook. I knew his real name was Dr. Evan Hooker and I even did a little reading yesterday and today in the library on his published studies and background. Most of the stuff was way above my level of understanding, but I was curious about the man, who cooked for everyone at Keller Hall. Among the details, I found his name connected with a sensational news article about a lawsuit alongside the SPLC, Southern Poverty Law Center. They were suing a local police department in Alabama. According to the article, the department had willfully misled and misrepresented the death of Brian Brownlow, who was found murdered in a case connected with male prostitution activities at a local gay bar. The name of the dead man and the elderly lawyer in front of us clicked in my head.

Responding to my unspoken question, Cook acknowledges his connection, “Mr. Brownlow is my deceased partner’s father. I met him, while attending Tulane University.”

Mr. Brownlow smile fades at the mention of his dead son, “Yes, I remember those simpler times at Tulane with Brian,” he addresses Brad perhaps to change the subject, “Gary Gaston can raise $405 million easily if he liquidates some of his personal assets with his older sister’s assistance. Even before that, he may attempt to push his agenda regardless of the implied costs and the Dean may ignore the legal consequences to the University. I’ve already filed a preemptive court injunction to prevent the expulsion of Keller Hall residents and sent a formal letter to the current University President to desist in the approved Board actions. I’ll need to begin legal paperwork for the conservator clause, today. I cannot promise you a full victory on all these matters, but we stand on solid legal ground. I also think your long-term solution is…inventive.”

Staring up at Brad, who shakes his head at me, “I’ll tell you about that later,” he shifts his focus to Min, Warren, Francis, and Paki with a tilt of his head left and right, “I know Gary and he won’t let this rest, if you all want to leave this university and get away from the insanity, I can arrange it with full-ride scholarships,”

A short silence descends as everyone considers Brad’s offer, but Francis growls a reply, “Fuck that asshole, I’m not budging. If you still consider me a friend, you won’t ask that again.”

Paki seconds him with anger in his voice, “I’m not going, either. He has no right to treat other human beings as he has. Give me the word and I’d kill him with my bare hand.”

Warren walks in front of Brad with his arms cross and his scarred face winces in discomfort, “I might not be able to do as much as I want, but I’m not going to tuck my tail and run away from that bastard.”

With all 3 of the guys in agreement, Min rolls to my side and offers hands to me and Brad, which we take, Min tells us “I wish to be your Mikata in these affairs, you have shown me generosity of spirit. Do not send me away due to my infirmities, I shall endeavor to assist wherever I can.”

Brad pulls his hand away from Min and frowns at everyone, “This bullshit “I am Spartacus” self-sacrificing crap has to stop. Beau and I can’t avoid Gary, because he’s got a vendetta against us. None of you should be put in danger. I know Gary is aggressive. I know he’s physically and emotionally abusive. I personally know the length he will go to get to anyone, if he thinks it will get him what he wants.”

Francis approaches Brad, despite not having eyesight, he spits out, “Do you still consider me a friend?”

“Fuck Francis, yes, you’re the most loyal friend I’ve ever fucking had. I blame myself every day for what happened to you and everyone else. I blame myself for never having those feelings for you, but instead, loving that bastard who ended hurting me deeper than I could ever imagine. I don’t want you to help me out of blind loyalty again,” Brad blurts his words out, revealing all the emotions I saw from Saturday night.

Another moment of silence descends on us, then Francis delivers a laugh, “Fuck you Bradley Ross Brooks, I loved you, because I believed you cared about me and others. Even when you made a suicidal plan during the game to win the championship at the cost of the entire O-line and receivers, I couldn’t believe you were that cruel or cold. That’s why when some of the other guys offered me payback. I told them, no. I tried to warn you, but Gary kept me away.”

Brad’s voice lowers several octaves, “I’m sorry, Francis,” then Brad’s face grows red with determination, “You know how dangerous Gary is, it’s not worth it to you or the other guys. You each have lost so much already.”

Warren shoves aside Francis and slaps Brad in the face, hard enough for a loud thwack to be heard, “Wake up, you idiot. We’re not dead and we’re not going to give in to despair. This place is the closest thing to a home some of us ever had. People at Keller Hall actually respect each other for who we are. You say we have lost a lot, well if we step away, we’ll be losing this place and our friends.”

Brad touches his reddening cheeks, glares at Warren, then sighs in resignation, “You are the most aggravating man, I have ever met. You are right, though.”

I gingerly stroke his cheeks, “Brad, I don’t think you can push them away, but…” I look at Mrs. Potter, “I think Chip should probably stay away from us. He’s too young to know about this stuff.”

All eyes were on Mrs. Potter, who nods in agreement with my assessment, “I agree Beau based on what you have described and what we’ve seen of Gary Gaston’s behavior, I don’t think it’s safe for Chip to be around. He’s at a school play right now. We can move out tomorrow.”

Brad offers helpfully, “I can pay for a hotel room or an apartment.”

Cook considers, “Chip enjoys being around the boys and he idolizes Paki and Beau. He should be allowed to spend Thanksgiving with us in the house. Maybe, we should wait, until Friday.”

As we discuss, there was no longer a separation between us, nor animosity between Brad and the other residents. It felt like we had reached a different level of friendship. The evening began to set in and the air grew chilly. Mr. Brownlow had to return to his law firm’s offices in Boston to file the appropriate paperwork, while the other guys returned to Keller Hall. Cook took Brad aside and asked him to speak in Cook’s bedroom office. I knew it was a major step for Brad today, I knew this was a private meeting between them, so I went back to my room. It was the first time he confronted Gary Gaston. Brad did not appear to be suffering from any psychological issues due to the encounter, but Cook as a Psychological professional, I can guess that he needed a private session with Brad to assess his emotional condition.

While Brad was with Cook, I formally sent a resignation email to the head librarian. My supervisor responded immediately stating that he understood and would likely send in his resignation shortly to the University as well. Neither of us spoke about Gary Gaston in our emails, but we both understood what just happened today and the type of cover-up that was taking place. He offered to have my next work study placement to be in the alumni resources department as a student assistant. I know he meant well and working under alumni resources meant that I’d be in the same building as Campus Police, President’s office, and be entertaining former graduates of the university. As insane as Gary Gaston might be, he wouldn’t want too many witnesses to his criminal activities. I told him I’d be interested in speaking with the head of alumni resources after Thanksgiving break.

After the emails, I settled down with my various assigned readings, until I heard my door opening and shutting. In fear, I drop the copy of John Polidori’s Vampyre, expecting Gary Gaston to be smirking at me in triumph. However, it was Brad instead, his face mask being removed to show his disfigured face. There was a gleam of lust on his face, the same kind that I noticed on him last Thursday and Friday.

Brad notices the fear in my face, then recoils, “I’m sorry, I thought maybe you might want to…I thought we could…I saw you were rattled up by Gary…”

Was this Brad’s way of asking for a booty call? I was half-expecting to have sex with him during the next few days during Thanksgiving break, but I didn’t expect him to be so up-front about it. I wasn’t in the mood after what happened in the library and outside Keller Hall with Gary, but I can tell Brad needed some relief. I began stripping off my clothes, while Brad stood there watching me, hungrily.

When I am completely naked and Brad is still fully dressed, I realize something is wrong, “Uh…do you want me to give you a blow job or…”

Brad approaches me cautiously before replying, “I just wanted to cuddle with you with our clothes on. We didn’t have a chance last night being around Min and I really needed to know you were safe in my arms. I didn’t think you were in the mood for sex,” pointing to my flaccid penis,” I told you I won’t force you into doing anything you don’t want to.”

I never thought I could be embarrassed and charmed by a man at the same time as I was by Brad’s rejection of sex. I can tell by the tent in his jeans that he wanted to have sex with me right now, but he was holding back for me. I knew there was no going back, my heart was telling me right now that I wanted Brad Brooks.

Blushing heavily with my dick growing harder after Brad’s charming words, I answer him, “Sorry, I thought…”

Before I could finish my answer, the door opened and Chip peered through my door. He was wearing a brown and green T-Shirt with brown pants with a Sudowoodo cracking a joke, “I’m not wooden, I’m rock hard”. His hair had green spray paint and glitter. His face is covered in makeup and what appeared to be eyeliner. Chip’s sudden arrival caused me to break into a new wave of embarrassment as I never intended to expose myself to him. I know he’s seen Paki and Francis naked before, but I just don’t feel that comfortable being exposed.

Chip stares at my naked body, then at Brad, before speaking, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t know you guys are starting to have sex now. I just wanted to tell Beau that I don’t want to leave you guys. Mom said I had to, because that guy who almost hurt Beau might be dangerous. I am not scared by mean guys. Like these older kids at the pizza place we went to after the play called everyone at our table fags and I just told them I’m gay, not a fag. See, I’m not scared of mean kids. I’m only scared of my dad. He lives in Maine and mom has a restraining order on him, so he can’t hurt me anymore. Please let me stay with you guys.”

I didn’t know how to respond to Chip in my current state, but Brad smoothly ruffles his hair and answers for me, “Chip, Beau needs to get dressed, so why don’t you and me talk about this in your room. You can tell me all about your school play.”

I was grateful for Brad’s distraction as they left the room. I acted too impulsively and thought I knew what Brad wanted from me. He probably does want sex, too, but he wanted my happiness even more. I didn’t realize it until I pulled off all my clothes, but I was willing to give him everything without hesitation. After he said no to me, my arousal actually returned and I wanted to have sex with him. Is that normal?