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Authors: M. T. Pope

BOOK: Gate Wide Open
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Chapter 6
James

Home, Sweet Home
October 28
th
, 2018, 2:12
P.M
.

We pulled up after about an hour of driving and made our way into the retirement building. I was totally disgusted by my temporary home.
Ah, hell, nah! This shit ain't even gon' work.

Most of the old heads in this place looked like they were well past their expiration dates. Somebody needed to nuke this muthafucka and put these wrinkled-ass people outta their misery.

I damn near rushed to the elevator, almost forgetting that Carl's black ass was trailing after me. “Hurry up, man. Damn.” I wanted to scream, but I was afraid I might kill one of these senile bags of skin and bones by raising my voice. I pushed the elevator button several times, trying to hurry it, but it too was taking its time, just like its tenants. I was starting to get light-headed from the fumes of Bengay, alcohol (non-medicinal) and just plain old funk mixed together from these rusty-ass people.

When the elevator came, Carl scurried his way in with me. His ass had some nerve to stop and converse with his friends.

I knew my stay here wouldn't be long. My ass is outta here as soon as I find me a new spot. ASAP.

Carl opened the door to his bachelor pad and my mouth hit the floor. This bastard was a fucking slob. Shit was everywhere—beer bottles, TV dinner boxes, and just plain filth. It looked like his ass hadn't cleaned up since he been here. His dishes were piled up so high, you couldn't see the sink. And the carpet was filthy as well with stains that had grown fungus.

I stepped over beer cans and bottles of alcohol as I looked for a clean spot to set my stuff down. Man, that shit seemed almost impossible to do because just about everything was filthy.

“Make yourself at home, baby.” He smiled like his ass had Martha Stewart decorate his shitty-ass house.

A mouse—no, make that a rat—scurried across the top of the sofa, dodging shit like it was in a maze. The muthafucka paused and looked at me like, “This shit don't make no sense. Even I don't live like this.”

My sympathy was with his ass because I was breaking camp with the quickness as soon as I could.

“Ah, okay, baby.” I walked past Carl toward what looked like a bedroom. Before I made it to the bedroom, I peeked into the bathroom to see its present state. “Maybe he just let the living room go,” I said to myself.

No such luck. I held my hand over my mouth and nose as I noticed the stain around the tub and the toilet. Both looked deplorable. The tub was almost completely brown, and the toilet had shit floating in it, literally, with a stench that almost made me wanna go back to prison and throw away the keys.

I knew my ass wasn't squatting on anything in there. I didn't want no shit crawling up my ass, except what was invited. I closed the door to the bathroom. Someone should tape this dump off with some crime scene tape, because his ass should be locked up for living like this.

To my surprise, the bedroom was in good shape, almost the complete opposite from the other parts of the house. Carl had a nice queen-sized bed with a comforter set that looked like it was from Ikea or someplace like that. It wasn't top of the line, but it was good enough for the time being. He had a pretty decent bedroom suite as well with cherry wood dressers and nightstands, and a forty-two-inch plasma television attached to the wall.

I hesitantly sat my stuff on the floor and made myself as comfortable as possible. I didn't want any “tag-alongs” like mice or roaches trying to set up camp in my shit when I made my exit.

I looked around and noticed he still had pictures of his wife, Shawn, Mona, and even some of his “grandkids.” I picked up the one of Shawn and noticed how distinguished he looked in his tailored suit posted up against one of his cars with the children gathered around him. I gazed at the photo and noticed that the children did resemble me in some of their facial features and eye color, among other things.

I wondered what it would be like to have a family like that one, and come home to a wife that made a home for me.

Fuck that shit!
I didn't need no family, and especially some bitch dictating to me my whereabouts.

Carl came in the room and startled me, so I placed the picture back on the dresser and pretended to care about his needs. I gave him his usual spanking, and he nutted and passed the hell out. Typical male.

Chapter 7
Shawn

Long Time No See
October 29
th
, 2018, 4:15
P.M
.

I walked toward the retirement home my father was staying at in the west side of Baltimore City, formally called Lexington Terrace Projects, but now it was a homeowner's haven. It was an okay neighborhood with some crime here and there. I walked into the building with butterflies in my stomach and sweaty palms. I was hoping it wouldn't take too long. I just wanted to get in, forgive and forget, and get out before I lost my cool.

I checked in at the front desk and made my way up to the apartment, walking up the stairs to the sixth floor. I was prolonging this as long as I could. I paused in front of his door and gave myself one last pep talk before I knocked.
Shawn, you can do this. Just let him know how you feel and get this shit off your chest. If things get rough and he comes off at you wrong, just walk out. Don't do anything to him. He's not worth it. Remember the three
R'
s—Relax, relate, release.

I knocked on the door and waited patiently for it to be answered. The door opened, and before me stood the man who wreaked havoc in my life, James Parks. He tried to ruin my family, and brought out the worst in me. I couldn't believe this muthafucka was standing here before my eyes.

“Hey, boo,” he said with a smug smile. “Long time no see, Shawn.”

My mind instantly flashed back to the cookout and all the shit he took me through ten years ago. My flesh wanted to kill him right there on the spot, but I couldn't move. I stood there like a deer caught in some headlights as my blood boiled rage and my heart fought back with lust and passion. How could the two exist at such a moment as this heartless monster stood before me? How could I still be attracted to this…this…beautiful man that had aged, but yet was still handsome and toned just so right?

I was shaken back to my present state by my father coming to the door.

“Hey, son,” he said with a smile as he put his hands around James' waist.

The sight of it threw me. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“He's here because you weren't.”

What?
Was he really saying it was my fault that my mom put him out?
He molested me, and now he is shacking up with the homewrecker, and it's my fault.
I couldn't believe my ears. He was blaming me. I was the victim here, not him. Me.

I turned and walked away, just like I'd promised myself if anything popped off.

Fuck that shit!
I turned around and went for blood. I ran and tackled my father and sucker-punched him, knocking him to the floor. “You grimy bastard! How could you do this to your family? The only ones who really cared for you.” I spat on him and walked away.

Then I turned around and charged him one last time and kicked him in his ribs and walked away, shaking my head in disgust. “I wish you were dead!” It seemed like the word
dead
bounced off the wall and repeated itself a couple of times.

“Shawn, I'm coming to see my kids soon,” I heard James yell as I stood at the elevator.

“Over my dead body, muthafucka!” I yelled back, pushing the elevator button constantly. “This muthafuckin' elevator needs to hurry up before I catch a case,” I mumbled to myself.

“I can arrange that, you know!” he yelled back.

“Yeah, man, whateva,” I said, knowing his ass had lost his mind with that threat. This bitch was testing me, and he knew it. He disappeared back into the apartment as I continued to wait on the elevator.

The elevator finally arrived, and I hopped on and pushed the button for the ground floor. I stepped out and noticed police walking toward me.

“Excuse me, sir. Can we have a word with you?”

I pointed to myself, not sure who they were talking to.

“Yeah, you.”

“We were called because someone reported a disturbance.”

My first thought was to run, but I opted against that because that would show guilt. Being a lawyer, I knew that wasn't in my best interest. I stood there as the police placed me against a wall, placed my hands behind my back, and proceeded to frisk me.

“Do you have any weapons on your person?” One officer patted me down, getting too damn close to my dick.

“What?” I turned my head around in disgust. “Does it look like I am carrying any weapons? I'm not a thug.”

I had on jeans, a Morgan State University sweatshirt, and some Timb boots, but my pants weren't sagging or anything like that.

“Shouldn't you guys be out getting those degenerates off the street corners selling our people drugs?” I was steaming, to say the least. How in the hell could they think that an upstanding citizen like myself would be causing a disturbance? A nigga can't even beat his father's ass in peace.

A large buffed officer that looked awfully familiar instructed me, “Sir, please keep still, and this will be over in a minute.”

I calmed down, knowing these officers were looking for someone to take out their stress on, and it wasn't going to be me. Being a lawyer, I had seen some pictures of Black and Latino males that were accosted by police before they made it to the local precincts.

“I was just here visiting my father. You can ask the receptionist at the front desk if you don't believe me.”

They removed my wallet and checked my identification. They also told me that they were going to run my arrest record and check to see if I was wanted in any other states. I just remained still against the wall as the once-quiet lobby was now swarming with residents who wanted to see what was going on.

I looked at the faces of the men and women shaking their heads in disapproval.
Another black man in cuffs.
My head hung low in shame.

Out of nowhere I heard snickering, and I looked into the crowd of people and saw James with a wicked smile on his face as he watched me.

“I'ma get you, muthafucka,” I mouthed before the police escorted me outside and into a waiting police cruiser.

They pulled off and went around the corner and parked in a dark alley.

“Look, man,” one of the cops said, “we going to let you off with a warning if you do us both a favor.”

“Yeah, man, we heard about your excellent services.”

They both snickered.

I was clueless, until one of the officers got out of the car and got in the back seat with me. “What the hell is going on?” I asked in fury and confusion.

“You know what the deal is, bitch!” The burly cop unzipped his pants and exposed his dick.

My eyes got big as silver dollars.

“You one of them bastards that raped me at the party that James had for me.”

“Yeah, man. I was there too,” the other cop chimed in.

The burly officer smiled as he stroked his dick to full length.

I slowly edged my way toward the end of the car, trying to unlock the door with my cuffed hands.
Shit. No luck.
I was stuck.

“Come here, man. I ain't going to hurt you this time. I just want you to blow my dick real good,” he said, shaking it in my face. “Not unless you want us to punish that ass again like we did at the party.”

I shook my head as I remembered the beating they put on me the last time. “Please, man, don't make me do this,” I pleaded with the horny officer.

Before I knew it, he shoved his dirty dick in my mouth, causing me to gag.

“Suck this dick, bitch!” He pushed my head down toward his lap. His strength overpowered my neck muscle as I tried to pull away, but I was fighting a losing battle. I had no choice but to do his bidding.

I sucked his dick the best I could. I must have been doing a good job, because his ass was moaning like a wolf at a full moon.

In the middle of the blowjob, the other officer got into the backseat with us and proceeded to pull down my pants, exposing my bare ass. I prayed to God that he wasn't going to violate me again, but to my surprise, all he did was eat me out as I sucked off his partner. I couldn't believe this shit was happening to me. I was being treated like a common whore in the back of a police car.

And to make matters worse, the beast inside of me was enjoying every moment. It took over, and before I knew it, I was a willing participant in this
ménage à trois
. They took turns eating me out while I blew each of them off.

When they were finished with me, they forcefully threw me from the car. “Tell James thanks. That muthafucka always knows how to show a brother a good time.” They laughed and pulled off.

I made my way back to my car and cleaned myself up with some Wet Ones I had in the car. I sat in my car as tears streamed down my face. I realized I wasn't finished battling this beast inside of me.

I didn't want to go home, and I didn't want to stay out and cause Mona any worry. I would usually go get a drink to suppress my homosexual urges. How could I tell her I was still attracted to men? I just didn't think she would understand again.

I was planning on asking her to renew our vows in a couple of weeks, but I didn't know if I could just act like I wasn't bisexual. How could I do this to my family? I was a fool for thinking that all I had to do was stay away from other guys altogether, and a couple of sessions with a shrink would cure me. Truth was, I only went to about ten of the fifty or so sessions before I decided that they were a waste of time. I didn't need anybody trying to get into my head and mess me up any further.

I got myself together and decided to keep this shit to myself and handle it on my own. I pulled up to my house, parked, and went to my door about to enter my home. I fixed my clothes and adjusted my facial expression to put on the act of a loving husband returning home to a loving family and a warm, inviting home.

“Honey, I'm home,” I yelled as I walked through the door and made my way to living room, where the kids were gathered around the television watching the classic,
A Few Good Men.

I walked in just as my favorite line in the movie was coming up, when Jack Nicholson said, “You can't handle the truth!”

That statement was so true in the movie, and even in my life. I knew that I couldn't handle the truth. I had no clue what that truth was, but I was hoping that it would reveal itself very soon.

I sat down and joined my family as they replayed that part over and over again, amazed at Kevin Bacon's face as the truth came forth from his mouth. I just sat there and pretended to be focused on the film and not on the façade that I was presently putting on.

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