8. Chapter Eight #2
“Save me the explanation of how a dick works,” Bronx harped. “I’m well aware of what makes a cock hard — especially since I’m gay and just had a hot guy grinding on me. Trust me, I get it.”
Cavalari straightened against the bench seat surrounding the kitchen table. A slow grin began to form on his face. “I really don’t need to hear that you think I’m hot.”
“I never said you were hot!” Bronx scoffed. “Are you really sure you’re not gay?”
“I’m fucking positive,” Cavalari seethed.
“You might want to explain that to the little soldier in your pants,” Bronx said and laughed.
Bronx came to his knees to fetch a roll of paper towels from the counter to wipe the sweat dripping from his face and the spots of blood from his rug burn. He swayed slightly, then tore off a piece from the roll for himself and then tossed the roll to Cavalari, so he could sop up his own.
“Anything broken, cut, or bruised?” Cavalari questioned.
“Not that I’m aware of but I’m certain we’re both going to be bruised and swollen tomorrow,” Bronx said.
“You hit your head pretty hard,” Cavalari pointed out.
Bronx touched a spot behind his ear and winced when he found the spot on his skull he’d whacked on the pole. “Yeah, that hurt,” Bronx said. “It made my ears ring.”
“Keep an eye on it and I’ll have someone take a look once we stop,” Cavalari explained. “Good thing your radio interview won’t show your ugly face. It’s probably better if the fans don’t see you looking like you were on the losing end of a bar fight,” Cavalari said.
“We both know who lost that round,” Bronx argued.
“And we both know that wasn’t a real fight,” Cavalari responded and then a blanket of silence fell over them. A few beats later, Cavalari finally added, “I tapped out because . . . ”
“Because of what?” Bronx pushed.
“Because I was getting hard and I knew you’d read my physical reaction the wrong way — as you did. Shocking. You are as predictable as maggots on a rotting carcass.
“Awww, that’s so romantic,” Bronx said as he wiped at the tiny droplets of blood drying on his face.
“You have zero shame with anything that comes out of your mouth,” Cavalari said and rolled his eyes.
“I have even less shame about what goes into my mouth,” Bronx said and laughed at his witty comeback.
“Wow, you missed your calling as a comedian,” Cavalari said flatly. “Your stand-up routine is stellar.”
Bronx rose to his feet again and felt a wave of dizziness when he did. He gave himself a few seconds and then walked to the trash bucket to toss out his dirty paper towel. When he moved back to the couch he saw a shiny object on the floor.
“Looks like something fell out of your pocket while you were dry-humping me,” Bronx chirped.
Cavalari glanced to his right and saw the polished silver keychain he always carried with him. He quickly picked it up and stuffed it back into his pocket.
“What the hell is that?” Bronx asked.
“That is of no concern to you.”
“Wait a minute,” Bronx said. “I know what it is. Holy shit! You kept the keychain I left for you at the sergeant's desk at your precinct. That was right after I got out of rehab a hundred years ago.”
“That’s not what it is,” Cavalari disagreed. “My niece gave it to me for a birthday a few years ago.”
“You kept my gift,” Bronx said excitedly, ignoring Cavalari’s explanation. “That’s so sweet of you. Did you also get the note I put in the envelope along with the keychain?”
“No, I didn’t get anything from you at the station — not a gift, letter, or otherwise,” Cavalari clarified. “Like I said, it was a gift from my niece.”
“It was a postcard-sized note,” Bronx elaborated.
“Doesn’t matter because I didn’t get anything from you.”
“Let me see it,” Bronx requested. “The keychain I left was made out of silver and had two charms. One was a four-leaf clover and the other was a tarnished little leprechaun that’s pulling down the back of his pants.
It was something I always carried with me for good luck and decided to pass it along to you as a sign of appreciation for all that you did to help me. ”
“And it worked out so well for you, with all the DUIs and traffic violations you racked up every week.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Bronx said. “I paid for every one of my stupid mistakes. I went to jail for eighteen months and even lost my license for a fucking year after I got out. Best part of that shit show was the whole ordeal pushed me to get sober which I consider to be one of my biggest accomplishments in life. The gift I left for you was a genuine thank you gesture on my part for the wake-up call you gave to me and that’s no joke.
You saved my life the last time you arrested me and I’ll never forget that. ”
“So, you found sobriety and got your life back on track while I lost my job and went through several dark months wondering what I was going to do next or how I’d pay my bills. Yep, sounds like a fair trade to me.”
“What? You lost your job? Why?” Bronx asked.
“Your brilliant idea to tell my captain that I sexually assaulted you during your last arrest did the trick,” Cavalari stated.
“I was put on desk duty while they investigated the information they had and the pressure I got from my co-workers during that time proved to be too much. Every gay slur you could imagine was thrown at me on a daily basis until I caved and started looking for other jobs in personal security. My captain suggested I take a leave of absence which I did. I went through some very bleak months while I was off but then one day I saw an ad posted by Ventura Security. It was the other side of the country and I thought it might be just what I needed to truly start over. The next week I flew out to LA for an interview and was hired on the spot.”
“Fuck, I had no idea you were fired,” Bronx said. “I’m so sorry that happened. That wasn’t my intention when I talked to your captain. I was joking around when I said you assaulted me and I thought he knew that. In fact, he laughed, too.”
“Shit like that is never taken lightly in any police precinct,” Cavalari said, “and every complaint has to be investigated.”
“I’m truly sorry I did that,” Bronx said again. “No wonder you hate me so much.”
“Water under the bridge, right?” Cavalari said and tried to make light of what happened but he knew Bronx understood what he was saying.
“My gratitude for what you did for me is real, Cavalari. If I had continued on the path I was on back then I’d be dead now.”
“Jesus, you just used my correct name! You must really be serious,” Cavalari chuckled.
“Officer Anthony Cavalari,” Bronx rattled off. “I know what your name is—I just don’t like using it because it’s more fun to make names up for you instead.”
“Yeah, thanks for that,” Cavalari laughed softly.
“You’re welcome.”
“I honestly didn’t know you’d achieved so much success with your music career and were working with Black Ice,” Cavalari said.
“Had I known, I would have taken a pass on the job since I blamed you for my life imploding — I still blame you, but I’m doing better with that.
The thought of working with you —for you , every damn day wasn’t sitting easy with me.
I wasn’t sure I could tolerate looking at your face, never mind protecting you.
But I needed this job, so I pulled up my big boy pants and faced it head on, like any professional would. ”
“I haven’t made it easy for you, have I?” Bronx asked.
“No, you haven’t,” Cavalari answered. “And, for the record, I wasn’t fired from my job — I quit. There’s a huge difference between the two , especially to a potential employer,” Cavalari said.
“Okay, so you quit a job you loved because I claimed you groped my junk?”
“Yes, that is more or less correct,” Cavalari replied.
“I was a patrol cop riding around in a squad car every shift, which I loved — I didn’t even mind working the graveyard shift.
Then suddenly I was forced to shuffle paperwork around a desk.
It wasn’t a good fit for me. I felt like a caged animal and getting homophobic slurs thrown at me every day certainly didn’t help with my growing anger. ”
“But through it all, I bet you denied grabbing my cock and balls to your captain?”
“I sure as fuck did,” Cavalari ranted. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Here’s the thing, Caviar, and all joking aside, I might have been drunk that night but I clearly remember your hand rubbing over my package when you had me up against my car slapping handcuffs on me, and you lingered there.
I can still feel your hot breath against my neck.
It was the hottest minute of my life and I know I wasn’t imagining that.
You absolutely groped me. Are you ever going to admit that to me?
And just to be clear, I wasn’t upset by your .
. . exploration in the least. That whole event went directly into my spank bank and I’ve used it many times over the years to jerk off to.
Having you slam me up against a solid object or wall was a huge fantasy for me after that.
But if you remind me of that admission again after today, I will beat on your face like it’s a snare drum. ”
Cavalari carefully ran a hand over his face as he contemplated his next words.
After a few long seconds he said, “Okay, yeah. I’ll admit I briefly touched you inappropriately on a few different occasions.
I have no idea why I did that and it was wrong for so many reasons, but I don’t feel I should’ve lost my damn job over it.
You’re the only one I ever did it to, but nonetheless, I was wrong. ”
“Then, why me?”
“I don’t have an answer for that,” Cavalari replied.
“You don’t have an answer or you don’t want to admit the reason to my face?” Bronx asked.
“What exactly would I be admitting?”
“That deep down you’ve always had a thing for me,” Bronx stated.
“Bullshit. You’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“Okay, so we’re not ready to go there ,” Bronx said.
He used air quotes around the word ‘there.’ “But for the record, I truly am sorry you had to quit your job. And in an effort to give you full disclosure, I loved having your hand roaming freely over my groin. I can’t remember a time when I was harder. ”
“Well, I certainly didn’t need that much information — and it’s a little late for apologies from you, but I’ll take it,” Cavalari admitted. “And I’ll offer you one of my own. I had no right to touch you like that and I’m sorry. It was completely unprofessional.”
“Wow, look at us having a tender moment here,” Bronx teased. “Do you think Hallmark has a greeting card for an occasion like this? Jesus, next thing you know we’ll end up being friends.”
“Don’t be fooled by the apology,” Cavalari said. “I still don’t like you and we’ll never be friends.”
“Are you sure about that?” Bronx asked.
“I’m positive, so march yourself back into the bedroom and go fuck yourself,” Cavalari directed.
“If we’re going to be BFFs then you shouldn’t be talking to me like that,” Bronx said.
“Although fucking myself sure has a nice appeal. I’ll go tug one out and think of you while I do it, and I’ll be sure to be extra loud so you can enjoy my happy ending, too—unless you’d like to watch me again. Would you like that, Squid Man?”
“I don’t have time to watch shit like that,” Cavalari said. “I barely have time to take a piss.”
“Liar. You’ve got hours of time right now,” Bronx said. “Come watch me and we can both get off.”
“I’d rather watch the bruises bloom on your face,” Cavalari admitted. “It can only improve your looks.”
“Ouch, that hurts more than you know,” Bronx said and walked toward the bedroom. “The offer still stands. You can watch me if you want—and it will be our little secret that you’re a kinky bastard.”
“How about you pencil me in for . . . never?”
“Your loss,” Bronx grumbled as he stepped into the bedroom and shut the door.
“Doubtful!” Cavalari yelled at the closed door.