Chapter 5
Monk
Sorting through the documents on his phone is impossible, so I work to mirror his system on my computer, finally gaining access to everything.
After reading through the Colannas files, I know exactly how to play my hand.
A few emails sent and a couple calls later, and the ball is rolling.
I’d love to know who his father has been feeding backdoor information to.
I’m wondering if a certain judge is on that list. Either way, Sorent is going to get his too. But all in due time.
I scour through Hunter’s files, scrounging for clues on investor information: saved documents sent from his father, anything I can use to my advantage.
There’s a hidden file within a miscellaneous folder marked personal, and interestingly enough, it’s password protected.
I’d bet a million bucks this is the mothership of what I’m looking for.
My fingers get to work, going into the hidden world of code that sits in the dark recesses of everyone’s computer.
The numbers and letters that don’t make sense to the layperson, but us hackers know just how to read it, and bingo, it gives me exactly what I’m looking for.
When I click on the first one, the screen goes black, and a chill runs down my spine as the video begins to play.
The hairs on my neck raise to spikes. My stomach tightens in a knot.
And the low groan rolls through the speakers, seizing the air inside my lungs.
There are two guys on the screen. One on his knees, the other braced behind him.
“That’s fucking tight,” the man grunts as he slides his cock into his partner slowly.
His face is tensed with pleasure as his head rests back on his shoulders, eyes closed with the look of pleasure melting his features.
His body is sheened with sweat, and a cold sweat breaks out over my skin as my pulse starts to race.
“Fuck, I need you deeper,” the other man growls. “God, your dick feels so fucking good. Stretch me.” He tries to push his ass back, but the top won’t let him advance. The muscles on his forearms are bulging as he keeps the guy from going deeper.
“You need to learn some patience,” the Dom growls. “Let me savor this tight little ass. Damn. That’s it. Squeeze my shaft. Fuck.”
The grunts get louder and heavier, and my mind starts to race.
My fingers hover over the mouse, pressing pause.
It’s fucking porn, downloaded from some free online site.
I quickly escape out of it and open up the next video.
Another huge, muscular man appears on the screen, pinning a guy to the bed and fucking into him slowly.
“That’s it,” the top groans. “Wring the cum right out of me.”
I click out of it, moving to the next video, then the next. And the next. More grunts. More huge men fucking. All of them in the doggy position. All of them slow and steady.
What in the actual fuck?
I close out of the file, opening up the next folder labeled fave1-1a$$mnch.
Another list of videos appears. My hand shakes on the mouse, a storm of emotions brewing inside my head.
Chaos, anger, confusion. I click on the one in the middle of the list, and my lungs start grasping for air as it begins to play.
There’s a man pinned up against what looks to be a gym locker, another guy is on his knees with his head buried between the man’s ass cheeks, munching on his bussy like he can’t get enough.
“That’s it. Fucking spread me with that tongue. Oh shit. I want to grab my dick so bad.”
“You wait until my cock is in this ass. Want every clench squeezing my shaft.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I close it out, gripping my head between my hands, tugging my hair nearly from my scalp.
“THE FUCKING BASTARD!” My shout rattles the door in its frame. I can’t fucking believe it. All these years. This is the fucking reason he did it. The anger. The disgust. The bullying. He’s fucking gay. He lashed out because he couldn’t stand that he was a “faggot.”
How the fuck did I never see it? Because he always dated girls. Talked about them as if he couldn’t get enough pussy. He never looked at a guy twice. Never lingered too long in the locker room. Never let out a Freudian slip. Nothing. Fucking nothing.
He’s got a private stash of what’s probably hundreds of gay porn videos.
Hidden behind a password protected file.
Like it’s his dirty little secret. How could there be any other reason for it?
This is probably the reason why he still isn’t married.
Bi or gay, he definitely doesn’t walk a straight line if this is what gets him off.
Oh my fucking God.
I hop up from my seat, storming from the room, rushing down the hall.
He’s fucking gay. All the times he called me a faggot.
All the times he tormented and teased, humiliated me in front of everyone.
All along it was his own confusion, his own fear that drove his anger.
I became an outlet for his self-hatred. I became the target. The fuck.
My fist slams into the punching bag, rattling the chains.
All these years. My fists hammer down harder, catching it on every swing.
All this time wondering what I did, why I was the one chosen for his abuse.
The blood starts to smear across the bag.
The sweat slipping down my neck. My mind slipping into the abyss of my memories.
“Can I tell you something, Spencer?”
I pause my video game and turn from my computer as Mom takes a seat on the end of my bed.
“I love you,” she says.
The awkwardness settles in, but Mom has always been the mushy-gushy type. But for some reason, it feels like something’s wrong.
“Love you too, Mom.”
She smirks at my mumbled response. “And I want you to know that it’s okay to be attracted to boys.”
My cheeks feel the rush of embarrassment. My nerves lurching up and lodging in my throat, making it difficult to get any words out. “What… Why are you saying this?”
“Because I know you’re struggling with your feelings.
And I want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with you.
And if you want to talk to me about it, you don’t have to worry about me loving you less or being mad or sad.
I think you’re absolutely perfect no matter what. It’s not a flaw, kiddo, it’s just you.”
There’s a sense of relief that washes over me. I didn’t know how to tell her. Now… I don’t have to.
“But I don’t think anyone else at my school is like me, Mom.”
She laughs. “That’s just because they’re too afraid to be open about it, kiddo. They’re afraid of the rejection. Just like you are. But you should feel free to be yourself. You shouldn’t feel like you need to hide your feelings.”
My mind is reeling. I wonder if there are really others like me. I wonder if any of my friends are gay.
“You know, Spence, you should own it. You can pave the way for everyone else. Be proud of who you are, and show them it’s okay to be honest about your feelings. You shouldn’t have to hide, and no one else should have to either.”
“But kids are mean, Mom. They make fun of people just because they don’t wear a certain brand of clothes or if they have a lisp. I think they’ll make fun of me if I say I like boys.”
She shakes her head. “Middle school is rough. But don’t get discouraged. High school will be different. You’ll see. People are going to admire your bravery. All the girls will want to be your best friend, because gay guys make the ultimate friends. And I bet you’ll find your first love.”
It’s a nice thought, but I’ve never been attracted to anyone. I don’t even know what that says about me. Maybe I’m asexual. I don’t even know if I have a type. I just know that it’s not girls.
“All right, kiddo. Well, I’ll let you get back to your video game.
” She stands from the bed and turns to leave, but before she makes it out the door, I jump from my chair and rush to her.
Wrapping my arms around her waist and hugging her tight.
She has no idea what she just did for me.
She erased all my fears. The worry, the dread, all of it feels lighter now.
Like it’s floating away. Having her support makes me feel confident.
“Thanks, Mom.” I squeeze her tighter.
“Thank you for being such an incredible son.” She holds me tighter.
I didn’t know how badly I needed that. But she’s right. It’s time to stop hiding who I am. I’m never going to meet anyone if I don’t put myself out there. But the thought is still terrifying. But like my mom has always said, “You conquer your fears, you conquer the world.”
This year, I’ll be the one in the driver’s seat, not my nerves. And when I walk into school, I’m going to own who I am.
* * *
I walk into the locker room, my bag in hand to change out for gym. This is the one class I despise. I’m not strong like a lot of the other kids. I’m a computer geek, not a jock. I’d rather be coding in Minecraft than getting tackled on the football field.
“Yo, did you see that? I think that girl was a junior and she was totally checking you out,” a kid says, as he stops at a locker near mine.
“I saw. I may have to get her number.”
The deep voice has me looking up. The kid sounds old for a freshman, but this is a freshmen-only class.
My knees waver. God, he’s huge for a nineth grader.
Tall and built. He must’ve played football his entire life because he’s ripped.
My palms start to sweat as he pulls off his shirt, his rippled chest coming into view.
I’ve never seen anyone like him. Blond shaggy hair, blue eyes. He’s gorgeous.
A feeling rushes in. Foreign, yet exciting. It’s making my stomach feel like little butterflies are flying around. He pulls down his jeans and my eyes drop to his legs. I swallow the drool pooling in my mouth. I think I have my first crush. I think I…
His head turns as if he sensed my staring. When our eyes connect, I swear it’s like a spark of electricity runs through my body. But as his eyes narrow in, looking pissed, the butterflies turn into nerves. I don’t think he liked me checking him out.
I quickly turn around, shoving my clothes into my locker, embarrassment burning over me.
“What the fuck are you looking at, loser?”
I look over my shoulder and he’s standing behind my back. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen is looking at me like he wants to kick my ass.
“I asked you a question, loser.” He moves in closer. “Why the hell are you watching me change-out?”
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “Didn’t mean to. I just…um…” There isn’t a single lie that comes to mind, and I’m definitely not telling him I was checking him out.
“He thinks you’re hot, Hunter,” his friend teases, stepping up to his side.
“He’s trying to check out your package,” another one joins in, and now there are three of them glaring at me, closing in slowly. My palms are starting to sweat, and I feel like I’m going to piss myself.
“Listen, you little faggot.” His hands come out, slamming me up against my gym locker, two blue eyes glaring straight into mine. “I don’t like you looking at me, and if I ever see you do it again, I’ll kick your ass.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I was just looking because you’re so strong. I’ve never seen someone our age so huge. It’s incredible.” When his nostrils flare, I wish the blubbering apology had stayed locked behind my lips.
“I am strong, and you’re a weak little pathetic faggot.” His hold on me tightens. “This locker room isn’t for queers, so you better scurry to the girls’ room to change. Now scram, loser.”
He drops his hands, giving me one last warning look before he steps away, and I literally scurry like a mouse, grabbing my things and running from the room with the sound of laughter roaring in the distance. The fear and disgust with myself nearly tripping my feet up.
Mom was wrong. No one can know my truth. I’ll never share my secret with anyone. They won’t accept me. They’ll beat me up for it.
I fall to my knees, heaving on every memory.
He’s going to pay for them all. For every hateful word he said.
For the shame. The fear. The disgust. He’s going to feel it all.
I’m going to break him. I’m going to chew him up and spit him out.
And by the time I’m done, he’s going to beg for my forgiveness. Forgiveness I will never give.