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BMOC
- Thread starter nubnlrd
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BMOC Chapter 20
Bruce emerged from his room around noon Saturday, wearing only a pair of dark plaid boxers. His throat was dry and he had the munchies, but all the weed he had smoked earlier had made him too lazy to throw on his clothes and go to the dining hall for brunch. Instead, he headed for the vending machines on the first floor. He closed his door behind him, yawned, then proceeded toward the stairway door.
"Off to start shit early today, huh Bruce?"
The voice came from the sofa in the lounge area near the exit. Slowly, Dre eased up from a reclined position on the sofa. Bruce flinched. He was having a nightmare, surely, he thought.
Dre stood up, hands in his pockets. Experience had taught him that encounters with Bruce had the potential to turn explosive, and he was being cautious. He wanted to be prepared in case anything happened.
"What's the matter, Bruce? Not happy to see a brotha?"
"What the fuck are you doing here?" The sharpness of Bruce’s tone carried down the hall.
Dre sauntered out of the lounge area, past Bruce and toward his room. "Visiting. My brother goes to school here and this is family weekend, remember?" Without permission or so much as a knock, Dre opened the door to Bruce’s room and went inside. Seconds later, a perplexed Bruce joined him. Dre was lying suggestively on Bruce’s bed. "Too bad we never got a chance to roll around in this bed. But, that probably wouldn't have been good anyway. We had a bad habit of breaking beds, remember?"
Bruce’s thoughts turned to the previous summer, a summer filled with so much sex between himself and Dre, it could have been a top-selling porn movie. He had to admit. Dre's ass was perfect for fucking. Tight, with the kind of muscle control that could make a brotha lose his sense of reason, not to mention his nut, in a matter of minutes. It had driven Bruce to distraction, obsession, and possession. Yet, too much had changed between them. He didn't trust Dre; he couldn’t forget that it was Dre who had handcuffed him, nude, to a bed and caused him much embarrassment and shame.
"What the fuck you want?" he asked again.
Dre leaned back on his elbows, his eyes zooming over Bruce’s dark plaid boxers.
"You sure you want to know the answer to that, Bruce?"
Bruce felt a stirring down below. He folded his arms against his bare chest and gave Dre a lustful look. Dre raised up, laughing. "Got your mind in the gutter as usual, Bruce. You must be tripping if you think I came up here to get some."
"You have before." Bruce smirked, recalling the afternoon Dre popped up, and blew him.
"Look, I'm only going to say this once, so it would do you good to listen," Dre said. “You almost ruined my life. I was weak. You took advantage of that, so I know what you're capable of, Bruce. I know you get off on fucking up the lives of everybody around you, but when you start fucking with people I care about, then you start fucking with me again, and that's a mistake you don't want to make."
Bruce chuckled. "Is that supposed to be a threat, kid?"
"No, I'm promising that if you mess with Chase, you will regret it."
Bruce’s head jerked back in surprise. "What you know about Chase?"
"I know that he's unhappy and I know that it's because of you."
"What? Get the fuck out of here! You just making shit up off the top of your head. The last time I saw Chase, he was flat on his back moaning like a bitch with half my hand up his ass! If he’s unhappy, it sure ain't cause of me."
Dre's pulse raced. Chase had said nothing happened between he and Bruce. Bruce was implying something entirely different. Dre walked toward the door. "Look, Chase doesn't want anything to do with you, Bruce. If it weren't for you, he and my brother would be handling their business as we speak."
"Chase and Jay?" Bruce broke into a smile. "What you been smoking, kid? I want some of that shit cuz it must be good!"
"Think what you want, but I'm telling you what I know," Dre replied. "Just leave him alone, Bruce. Let Chase be."
"Don't tell me what to do!" Bruce’s anger flared hot and heavy. He was still ticked by Chase’s sudden disappearance from his room and now here was a ghost from his past, telling him that Chase didn't want anything to do with him. It was more than his oversized ego could take in an afternoon. "I don’t take orders from nobody, especially not from no knob slobbing bitch like you."
"It takes a good one to know one, don't it, Bruce. And unless you want everyone else on this campus to know how good at it you are, then you better stay the fuck away from Chase. You think I won’t, just try me Bruce. I’m ‘out’ these days, living my life as a gay black man. I’m proud of who I am. So I’d have no problem blabbing your business all over this campus." Dre backed out of the room slowly, never once turning his back on Bruce. He didn't begin walking face forward until he was in the stairwell and on his way back to Jay's room.
Bruce stared at the closed door, burning with rage. Those damned Kings! How much more would he suffer because of those two? What was going on with Chase wasn't any of their damned business. He wasn’t going to take this like no punk. Stay away from Chase? Hell no. He was just getting started with Chase. And now it looked like he’d have to turn his attention to Jay again, too.
[FONT="]
[/FONT] BMOC Chapter 21
“I'm not going," Lonnell said into the phone. "I don't feel like seeing anybody but you tonight."
"Come on, baby. Everybody is going to be there. Don't you want to get out of that room? Don't you want to be with me?" Eppi asked.
"Of course." He just didn't want the added presence of the thousands bound to show up for the Pan-Hellenic Council's Spring Fest Step Show. "Listen, why don't you come over here later?” Lonnell shared the news that he'd just had an erotic dream and woke up in an excited state. His condition evidently was improving
“Maybe we can snuggle up on my bed and see if you can't provide some extra sexual healing for my partner"
Eppi sighed. She loved Lonnell, and was certainly happy to hear of the change in his condition, but his "partner" and its problems had been her focus for too long as far as she was concerned. Tonight, she wanted to see, be seen. Step shows, particularly the last one of the year, always Jay the hot boys and girls not only from the U of I campus, but also from schools near and far. "Baby, we haven't been out in awhile. We've only got three weeks of school left counting finals week. Let's not miss a chance to kick it before the semester’s over, you know?"
"Fuck that," Lonnell growled. "The only place I want to kick it is right here in my own room."
Eppi's patience was worn paper-thin and she neither had the energy nor the desire to argue.
"Okay, fine. But I'm going to the Step Show tonight, with or without you. If I'm not too tired afterward, I'll stop by."
"What the hell?" He sat up in his bed. "Now you know that ain't gonna look right, girl. You, looking all good to them dudes, and I ain't there with you?"
"Lonnell, please. Everyone knows we're together, and the ones who don't, I'll give them the 411. You don't have anything or anybody to worry about."
Lonnell's thoughts turned to Jay King and he couldn't clear the image of Jay and Eppi embracing outside the rec center. She had denied it was anything more than a friendship hug, but Lonnell didn't have any female friends who he held the way Jay held Eppi that evening. He trusted his woman well enough, but it was Jay who worried him. "Why is it so important for you to go to this thing anyway?" Lonnell asked.
"Dammit Lon, I'm sick and tired of sitting around this room waiting on you and your changing moods, that's why!" The dial tone let him know that Eppi had nothing more to say.
He slammed the phone onto the receiver just as Bruce walked in the room. "Whoah, bro. What'd the phone do to you?"
"Eppi is trippin' again."
"What's up now?"
"She wants to go to the Step Show tonight without me. She thinks I'm supposed to be cool letting her hang around all them doggish frat brothers. Can you believe this shit?"
Bruce shook his head. "Don't sweat it, bro. I'm going to the show myself. I got your back. I’ll look out for Eppi and keep the niggas in check," he said.
"You sure?"
"Most def."
Lonnell nodded. "Good looking out, Bruce." This sounded like a plan to Lonnell. He trusted Bruce with his life, so it was no stretch to trust him with his girl.
Jay had promised to take Dre to the Step Show, so even though he now wanted to just lounge in his room watching TV or sleep. He was dressed and on his way to the Show with not only his brother, but Chase, too.. His presence was most definitely unexpected--and unwanted on Jay's part. For some reason, Dre had insisted they invite him. Jay suspected his brother was trying to get him and Chase together. He had to admit, though, that for all the effort he put up to ignore Chase, his eyes kept drifting in his direction.
Chase looked especially good that night in a silky, cream-colored shirt that was opened to the third button. Chase had felt a little self-conscious putting himself on display this way, but Dre convinced him that he had a lot to put on display, and had loaned him the clothes. They turned more than a few heads on the walk across campus, much to Jay's embarrassment.
The first thing Dre did after the three arrived for the Step Show was find the restroom, even though he didn’t have to use it. He was trying to get Jay and Chase alone, in hopes that they could begin to bridge the rift between them. As he walked away, he turned around to look at his brother and Chase, and found them moving away from each other. He sighed. It didn’t look like he was going to succeed at getting those two together on this visit.
As Jay moved through the crowd of folks milling around waiting for the show to begin, he felt a gentle tapping on his shoulder. "Hey brotherman." Eppi wrapped her arms around Jay’s neck and gave him a gentle hug.
"Hey yourself." He looked her over. "Looking good, girl."
"I know," she replied. "I feel good, too."
"Well, what's got you in such a good mood?"
Eppi shrugged. "I don't know, Jay. I'm just happy to be out, you know? I've been keeping to myself here lately, plus, Lonnell’s been giving me some drama, too." She looked at Jay. "What about you? You still seem a little laid back, a little sad."
Jay averted his eyes. "I'm cool."
Eppi reached for his hands and held them in her own. "I'm here, Jay. You know, if you ever want to talk about it."
Jay nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Just then, Chase appeared in Eppi's view just over Jay's shoulder. "Hey, there's your boy.
Jay swiveled his head, made eye contact with Chase, and then quickly turned away. "Yeah, that’s him."
Eppi couldn't miss the message in Jay's tone. "Okay, so what happened? Why aren’t you two hanging?"
Jay disengaged his hands from Eppi's. "I don't want to talk about it."
Dre returned from his ‘trip’ to the restroom, grabbed a hold of Chase's arm and pulled him over to where Jay and Eppi stood. "Hey. I'm Dre. Dre King, Jay's brother. I'm up for Family Weekend," he said to Eppi.
"Damn, Jay. Are all the men in your family fine?" Eppi asked.
Both Jay and Dre smiled at her compliment. Just then, the doors to the Arena's auditorium opened, and everyone began to get in line to go inside. Dre convinced Eppi to sit with them, but arranged it so that Jay and Chase sat together, and he and Eppi next to each other.
While everyone else watched the Step Show, Bruce focused his attention on the King brothers and their two companions. Of particular interest to him were Jay and Eppi. He had witnessed their embrace and their interaction prior to the start of the show and was surprised by it. Certainly, he knew from personal experience that Eppi was capable of stepping out on Lonnell; but so publicly? Given Lonnell's anger and suspicion of Jay,
Bruce savored this tasty tidbit, knowing that he'd be able to use it to his advantage sooner rather than later.
The ringing telephone interrupted Lonnell just after he dozed off watching Sports Center on ESPN. He didn't feel like talking, so he let it ring continuously, hoping that the caller would eventually give up. No such luck. Lonnell hobbled off the bed and picked up the receiver just as Bruce was about to hang up on the other end of the line.
"Yeah?" Lonnell didn't attempt to hide his annoyance.
"Yo, bro, it's me," Bruce said.
"Wassup? Why you calling?" Lonnell felt his muscles tensing.
"Man, I don't know how to tell you this," Lonnell said.
"What? Just say it, Bruce." Lonnell began to grind his teeth, trying to steel himself for the bad news Bruce was about to lay at his doorstep.
"I turned my back for a minute, and she left," Bruce said. There was no need to say who “she” was. "Some of my boys said they saw her leaving with Jay King."
"What did you say?" Lonnell's voice was low, uncertain. He *knew* he didn't hear Bruce right.
Bruce smiled. "They was together all night, man. I didn't think too much about it, cause I know they’re friends, but now they say she left with him."
"Shit!" Like a reflex, Lonnell's fist came crashing down onto the small table that held the phone and a lamp, sending them both crashing to the floor along with the phone. "Where the fuck did they go?"
"I don't know," Bruce said. "I'm thinking they went back to her dorm --"
The phone suddenly went dead.
Bruce emerged from his room around noon Saturday, wearing only a pair of dark plaid boxers. His throat was dry and he had the munchies, but all the weed he had smoked earlier had made him too lazy to throw on his clothes and go to the dining hall for brunch. Instead, he headed for the vending machines on the first floor. He closed his door behind him, yawned, then proceeded toward the stairway door.
"Off to start shit early today, huh Bruce?"
The voice came from the sofa in the lounge area near the exit. Slowly, Dre eased up from a reclined position on the sofa. Bruce flinched. He was having a nightmare, surely, he thought.
Dre stood up, hands in his pockets. Experience had taught him that encounters with Bruce had the potential to turn explosive, and he was being cautious. He wanted to be prepared in case anything happened.
"What's the matter, Bruce? Not happy to see a brotha?"
"What the fuck are you doing here?" The sharpness of Bruce’s tone carried down the hall.
Dre sauntered out of the lounge area, past Bruce and toward his room. "Visiting. My brother goes to school here and this is family weekend, remember?" Without permission or so much as a knock, Dre opened the door to Bruce’s room and went inside. Seconds later, a perplexed Bruce joined him. Dre was lying suggestively on Bruce’s bed. "Too bad we never got a chance to roll around in this bed. But, that probably wouldn't have been good anyway. We had a bad habit of breaking beds, remember?"
Bruce’s thoughts turned to the previous summer, a summer filled with so much sex between himself and Dre, it could have been a top-selling porn movie. He had to admit. Dre's ass was perfect for fucking. Tight, with the kind of muscle control that could make a brotha lose his sense of reason, not to mention his nut, in a matter of minutes. It had driven Bruce to distraction, obsession, and possession. Yet, too much had changed between them. He didn't trust Dre; he couldn’t forget that it was Dre who had handcuffed him, nude, to a bed and caused him much embarrassment and shame.
"What the fuck you want?" he asked again.
Dre leaned back on his elbows, his eyes zooming over Bruce’s dark plaid boxers.
"You sure you want to know the answer to that, Bruce?"
Bruce felt a stirring down below. He folded his arms against his bare chest and gave Dre a lustful look. Dre raised up, laughing. "Got your mind in the gutter as usual, Bruce. You must be tripping if you think I came up here to get some."
"You have before." Bruce smirked, recalling the afternoon Dre popped up, and blew him.
"Look, I'm only going to say this once, so it would do you good to listen," Dre said. “You almost ruined my life. I was weak. You took advantage of that, so I know what you're capable of, Bruce. I know you get off on fucking up the lives of everybody around you, but when you start fucking with people I care about, then you start fucking with me again, and that's a mistake you don't want to make."
Bruce chuckled. "Is that supposed to be a threat, kid?"
"No, I'm promising that if you mess with Chase, you will regret it."
Bruce’s head jerked back in surprise. "What you know about Chase?"
"I know that he's unhappy and I know that it's because of you."
"What? Get the fuck out of here! You just making shit up off the top of your head. The last time I saw Chase, he was flat on his back moaning like a bitch with half my hand up his ass! If he’s unhappy, it sure ain't cause of me."
Dre's pulse raced. Chase had said nothing happened between he and Bruce. Bruce was implying something entirely different. Dre walked toward the door. "Look, Chase doesn't want anything to do with you, Bruce. If it weren't for you, he and my brother would be handling their business as we speak."
"Chase and Jay?" Bruce broke into a smile. "What you been smoking, kid? I want some of that shit cuz it must be good!"
"Think what you want, but I'm telling you what I know," Dre replied. "Just leave him alone, Bruce. Let Chase be."
"Don't tell me what to do!" Bruce’s anger flared hot and heavy. He was still ticked by Chase’s sudden disappearance from his room and now here was a ghost from his past, telling him that Chase didn't want anything to do with him. It was more than his oversized ego could take in an afternoon. "I don’t take orders from nobody, especially not from no knob slobbing bitch like you."
"It takes a good one to know one, don't it, Bruce. And unless you want everyone else on this campus to know how good at it you are, then you better stay the fuck away from Chase. You think I won’t, just try me Bruce. I’m ‘out’ these days, living my life as a gay black man. I’m proud of who I am. So I’d have no problem blabbing your business all over this campus." Dre backed out of the room slowly, never once turning his back on Bruce. He didn't begin walking face forward until he was in the stairwell and on his way back to Jay's room.
Bruce stared at the closed door, burning with rage. Those damned Kings! How much more would he suffer because of those two? What was going on with Chase wasn't any of their damned business. He wasn’t going to take this like no punk. Stay away from Chase? Hell no. He was just getting started with Chase. And now it looked like he’d have to turn his attention to Jay again, too.
[FONT="]
[/FONT] BMOC Chapter 21
“I'm not going," Lonnell said into the phone. "I don't feel like seeing anybody but you tonight."
"Come on, baby. Everybody is going to be there. Don't you want to get out of that room? Don't you want to be with me?" Eppi asked.
"Of course." He just didn't want the added presence of the thousands bound to show up for the Pan-Hellenic Council's Spring Fest Step Show. "Listen, why don't you come over here later?” Lonnell shared the news that he'd just had an erotic dream and woke up in an excited state. His condition evidently was improving
“Maybe we can snuggle up on my bed and see if you can't provide some extra sexual healing for my partner"
Eppi sighed. She loved Lonnell, and was certainly happy to hear of the change in his condition, but his "partner" and its problems had been her focus for too long as far as she was concerned. Tonight, she wanted to see, be seen. Step shows, particularly the last one of the year, always Jay the hot boys and girls not only from the U of I campus, but also from schools near and far. "Baby, we haven't been out in awhile. We've only got three weeks of school left counting finals week. Let's not miss a chance to kick it before the semester’s over, you know?"
"Fuck that," Lonnell growled. "The only place I want to kick it is right here in my own room."
Eppi's patience was worn paper-thin and she neither had the energy nor the desire to argue.
"Okay, fine. But I'm going to the Step Show tonight, with or without you. If I'm not too tired afterward, I'll stop by."
"What the hell?" He sat up in his bed. "Now you know that ain't gonna look right, girl. You, looking all good to them dudes, and I ain't there with you?"
"Lonnell, please. Everyone knows we're together, and the ones who don't, I'll give them the 411. You don't have anything or anybody to worry about."
Lonnell's thoughts turned to Jay King and he couldn't clear the image of Jay and Eppi embracing outside the rec center. She had denied it was anything more than a friendship hug, but Lonnell didn't have any female friends who he held the way Jay held Eppi that evening. He trusted his woman well enough, but it was Jay who worried him. "Why is it so important for you to go to this thing anyway?" Lonnell asked.
"Dammit Lon, I'm sick and tired of sitting around this room waiting on you and your changing moods, that's why!" The dial tone let him know that Eppi had nothing more to say.
He slammed the phone onto the receiver just as Bruce walked in the room. "Whoah, bro. What'd the phone do to you?"
"Eppi is trippin' again."
"What's up now?"
"She wants to go to the Step Show tonight without me. She thinks I'm supposed to be cool letting her hang around all them doggish frat brothers. Can you believe this shit?"
Bruce shook his head. "Don't sweat it, bro. I'm going to the show myself. I got your back. I’ll look out for Eppi and keep the niggas in check," he said.
"You sure?"
"Most def."
Lonnell nodded. "Good looking out, Bruce." This sounded like a plan to Lonnell. He trusted Bruce with his life, so it was no stretch to trust him with his girl.
* * * * *
Chase looked especially good that night in a silky, cream-colored shirt that was opened to the third button. Chase had felt a little self-conscious putting himself on display this way, but Dre convinced him that he had a lot to put on display, and had loaned him the clothes. They turned more than a few heads on the walk across campus, much to Jay's embarrassment.
The first thing Dre did after the three arrived for the Step Show was find the restroom, even though he didn’t have to use it. He was trying to get Jay and Chase alone, in hopes that they could begin to bridge the rift between them. As he walked away, he turned around to look at his brother and Chase, and found them moving away from each other. He sighed. It didn’t look like he was going to succeed at getting those two together on this visit.
As Jay moved through the crowd of folks milling around waiting for the show to begin, he felt a gentle tapping on his shoulder. "Hey brotherman." Eppi wrapped her arms around Jay’s neck and gave him a gentle hug.
"Hey yourself." He looked her over. "Looking good, girl."
"I know," she replied. "I feel good, too."
"Well, what's got you in such a good mood?"
Eppi shrugged. "I don't know, Jay. I'm just happy to be out, you know? I've been keeping to myself here lately, plus, Lonnell’s been giving me some drama, too." She looked at Jay. "What about you? You still seem a little laid back, a little sad."
Jay averted his eyes. "I'm cool."
Eppi reached for his hands and held them in her own. "I'm here, Jay. You know, if you ever want to talk about it."
Jay nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Just then, Chase appeared in Eppi's view just over Jay's shoulder. "Hey, there's your boy.
Jay swiveled his head, made eye contact with Chase, and then quickly turned away. "Yeah, that’s him."
Eppi couldn't miss the message in Jay's tone. "Okay, so what happened? Why aren’t you two hanging?"
Jay disengaged his hands from Eppi's. "I don't want to talk about it."
Dre returned from his ‘trip’ to the restroom, grabbed a hold of Chase's arm and pulled him over to where Jay and Eppi stood. "Hey. I'm Dre. Dre King, Jay's brother. I'm up for Family Weekend," he said to Eppi.
"Damn, Jay. Are all the men in your family fine?" Eppi asked.
Both Jay and Dre smiled at her compliment. Just then, the doors to the Arena's auditorium opened, and everyone began to get in line to go inside. Dre convinced Eppi to sit with them, but arranged it so that Jay and Chase sat together, and he and Eppi next to each other.
While everyone else watched the Step Show, Bruce focused his attention on the King brothers and their two companions. Of particular interest to him were Jay and Eppi. He had witnessed their embrace and their interaction prior to the start of the show and was surprised by it. Certainly, he knew from personal experience that Eppi was capable of stepping out on Lonnell; but so publicly? Given Lonnell's anger and suspicion of Jay,
Bruce savored this tasty tidbit, knowing that he'd be able to use it to his advantage sooner rather than later.
* * * * *
"Yeah?" Lonnell didn't attempt to hide his annoyance.
"Yo, bro, it's me," Bruce said.
"Wassup? Why you calling?" Lonnell felt his muscles tensing.
"Man, I don't know how to tell you this," Lonnell said.
"What? Just say it, Bruce." Lonnell began to grind his teeth, trying to steel himself for the bad news Bruce was about to lay at his doorstep.
"I turned my back for a minute, and she left," Bruce said. There was no need to say who “she” was. "Some of my boys said they saw her leaving with Jay King."
"What did you say?" Lonnell's voice was low, uncertain. He *knew* he didn't hear Bruce right.
Bruce smiled. "They was together all night, man. I didn't think too much about it, cause I know they’re friends, but now they say she left with him."
"Shit!" Like a reflex, Lonnell's fist came crashing down onto the small table that held the phone and a lamp, sending them both crashing to the floor along with the phone. "Where the fuck did they go?"
"I don't know," Bruce said. "I'm thinking they went back to her dorm --"
The phone suddenly went dead.
- Joined
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- Location
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- Verification
- View
- Sexuality
- 100% Gay, 0% Straight
- Gender
- Male
- Joined
- May 27, 2008
- Posts
- 125
- Media
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- Likes
- 239
- Points
- 373
- Age
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- Location
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- Verification
- View
- Sexuality
- 100% Gay, 0% Straight
- Gender
- Male
BMOC Chapter 22
Dre and Chase walked back to the dorms together, after parting with Jay so that he could walk Eppi home. "Are you content with being unhappy?" Dre asked.
"What?" Chase asked.
"You were sitting right next to him the entire night," Dre said. "And that's all you did. Just sat there. Nothing will change, Chase, if you don't do something to change it."
Chase stopped walking. "Tell that to your stubborn ass brother."
Dre sighed. "Look, I know Jay has some ugly ways about him. But he's my brother. I love him, so I don't ever let that get in the way of our relationship," he said. "Now, I know you care about him, Chase. So don't let his ugly ways stop you from loving him."
"Don't you think if it were that simple, it would be done?" Chase asked. "It's not about his ugly ways. It's about him. He's fighting it, Dre. He's fighting himself. He's fighting me."
"Then you'll never be with him," Dre said.
Chase shrugged. "If I had to live with that, I could."
Dre knew this attitude; he'd experienced it with his first love, Maleek. Somehow, Maleek had resigned himself to not being with Dre, even though he loved him, and Dre could not reconcile these two facts. In his mind, love without togetherness was no love at all.
Dre walked off, wondering as he had off and on for the past four months, where Maleek was and if he was thinking of him.
Eppi leaned against the door of her dorm room, feeling even better than she had earlier.
"Thanks, Jay. You didn't have to walk me all the way up to my door," she said.
"I know. Its called being a gentleman."
Eppi smiled. "Yes, you are. A perfect gentleman who deserves an equally perfect woman in his life."
Jay blushed. "Yeah, well, if the perfect woman standing in front of me wasn't all ready taken…"
Eppi smiled, then rose on tiptoe to kiss Jay on the cheek. “Do you know what would happen if Lonnell just saw what I did?" Eppi asked.
Jay shook his head. "I can imagine." They shared a smile, a hug and said good night.
Jay replayed what Eppi had said in his head on the walk to his dorm. "You deserve an equally perfect “woman” in your life." Did he deserve perfection when he himself was not perfect? Did he deserve a woman at all, with the feelings he also harbored for men? Of course, that question led to thoughts of Chase. Did Chase deserve the harsh treatment Jay was giving to him? Jay began to seriously ponder the source of his anger. Was it Chase? Not entirely. It took two to make a thing go wrong, and Chase hadn't been alone. He dug deep and found that he was angrier with Bruce than he was at Chase. Chase didn't understand the history between Jay and Bruce. He hadn't purposely set out to hurt Jay. The more Jay thought it over, the more he realized that Chase had absolutely no reason to think that Jay considered him anything but a friend. Of course, that wasn't the truth, but Jay had been denying the truth for so long, he had convinced Chase of it as well.
Jay stopped walking suddenly. A sharp pain at the back of his head caused him to fall to his knees. He felt another stab of pain but everything went black.
Dre went up to Jay's room and waited a half-hour for him to show up, but since he never did. Dre jumped in the shower and dressed for bed. He crawled into the rollaway bed he'd slept in the past two days and tried to go to sleep. His attempts were made more difficult by the insistent wailing of sirens in the distance. Dre burrowed his head under the pillow, trying to shut out the noise.
Giving upon sleep, he began to reflect on his visit. Much as he liked the people he'd met on this visit, he knew he wouldn't be coming to the University of Illinois in the fall. He still hadn't decided to whether to go to college, but he was certain that if college was in his future, U of I wasn't where he intended to go. All this thought began to lull him into slumber, but before he could close his eyes and drift deeply, there was insistent knocking at the door. He stumbled out of the bed and over to the door. Standing on the other side were Jay's resident assistant and a campus security guard.
"There's been an accident," said the R.A. "Jay's been taken to Pavillion Hospital."
Dre and Chase walked back to the dorms together, after parting with Jay so that he could walk Eppi home. "Are you content with being unhappy?" Dre asked.
"What?" Chase asked.
"You were sitting right next to him the entire night," Dre said. "And that's all you did. Just sat there. Nothing will change, Chase, if you don't do something to change it."
Chase stopped walking. "Tell that to your stubborn ass brother."
Dre sighed. "Look, I know Jay has some ugly ways about him. But he's my brother. I love him, so I don't ever let that get in the way of our relationship," he said. "Now, I know you care about him, Chase. So don't let his ugly ways stop you from loving him."
"Don't you think if it were that simple, it would be done?" Chase asked. "It's not about his ugly ways. It's about him. He's fighting it, Dre. He's fighting himself. He's fighting me."
"Then you'll never be with him," Dre said.
Chase shrugged. "If I had to live with that, I could."
Dre knew this attitude; he'd experienced it with his first love, Maleek. Somehow, Maleek had resigned himself to not being with Dre, even though he loved him, and Dre could not reconcile these two facts. In his mind, love without togetherness was no love at all.
Dre walked off, wondering as he had off and on for the past four months, where Maleek was and if he was thinking of him.
* * * * *
"Thanks, Jay. You didn't have to walk me all the way up to my door," she said.
"I know. Its called being a gentleman."
Eppi smiled. "Yes, you are. A perfect gentleman who deserves an equally perfect woman in his life."
Jay blushed. "Yeah, well, if the perfect woman standing in front of me wasn't all ready taken…"
Eppi smiled, then rose on tiptoe to kiss Jay on the cheek. “Do you know what would happen if Lonnell just saw what I did?" Eppi asked.
Jay shook his head. "I can imagine." They shared a smile, a hug and said good night.
Jay replayed what Eppi had said in his head on the walk to his dorm. "You deserve an equally perfect “woman” in your life." Did he deserve perfection when he himself was not perfect? Did he deserve a woman at all, with the feelings he also harbored for men? Of course, that question led to thoughts of Chase. Did Chase deserve the harsh treatment Jay was giving to him? Jay began to seriously ponder the source of his anger. Was it Chase? Not entirely. It took two to make a thing go wrong, and Chase hadn't been alone. He dug deep and found that he was angrier with Bruce than he was at Chase. Chase didn't understand the history between Jay and Bruce. He hadn't purposely set out to hurt Jay. The more Jay thought it over, the more he realized that Chase had absolutely no reason to think that Jay considered him anything but a friend. Of course, that wasn't the truth, but Jay had been denying the truth for so long, he had convinced Chase of it as well.
Jay stopped walking suddenly. A sharp pain at the back of his head caused him to fall to his knees. He felt another stab of pain but everything went black.
* * * * *
Giving upon sleep, he began to reflect on his visit. Much as he liked the people he'd met on this visit, he knew he wouldn't be coming to the University of Illinois in the fall. He still hadn't decided to whether to go to college, but he was certain that if college was in his future, U of I wasn't where he intended to go. All this thought began to lull him into slumber, but before he could close his eyes and drift deeply, there was insistent knocking at the door. He stumbled out of the bed and over to the door. Standing on the other side were Jay's resident assistant and a campus security guard.
"There's been an accident," said the R.A. "Jay's been taken to Pavillion Hospital."
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BMOC Chapter 34
"Lonnell, no!" Eppi's scream came too late. Dre tumbled to the linoleum clutching his jaw. Lonnell dived onto him, both fists swinging. Eppi hopped on Lonnell's back, pressing her forearm tightly against his windpipe in an effort to get his attention. Lonnell rose from punching Dre and grabbed at her arms.
He swung her off his back, gripping both of her wrists in his hands. He shook her angrily. "Girl, what the fuck you think you doing?"
Eppi began to kick and bite at him, struggling to free herself from his hold.
“You sick ass mothafucka!" She screamed, full of spite and anger and even guilt. Lonnell was so stunned by the intensity of her emotions that he released her. "You could've killed him! You could've killed him!"
"I did that shit for you! For you."
"He's in a coma! A coma, you crazy son of a bitch! How the hell was that doing something for me? Did I ask you to do that? Did I give you a reason to do that?”
"Don't nobody put there hands on my woman!"
"Jay never touched me!"
"You were at the fucking Step Show with his punk ass!"
"I was not! I went alone in case you forgot. He only walked me home."
"Bruce said you two were together all night."
The mere mention of Bruce’s name calmed her. Dre, who was on the floor trying to move his aching jaw, also heard Bruce named mentioned and began to listen more attentively to their exchange.
"When did you talk to Bruce?" She asked.
"He was looking out for me at the Step Show. He called me from there."
Eppi's shoulders slumped. Bruce, the master manipulator strikes again. Dre finally stood, the pain in his jaw immediately forgotten. "You." He pointed at Lonnell, his hand quivering with anger and hatred. "You did this."
Eppi could sense the explosion building and acted to prevent it. She stood between Lonell and Dre. "Wait for me outside, O.K.?"
Lonnell stared at Dre with a taunting smirk that invited him to try something, to give him a reason to pound his face to nothing as he'd done to Jay. Eppi pulled Lonnell towards the door.
"Outside, O.K.? I'll be out in a minute." She gave Lonnell a shove and waited for him to leave before running back to Dre.
"O.K. It's true. Lonnell hurt Jay. He's sick. He needs help. But it's not all his fault. He would've never gone after Jay if Bruce hadn't filled his head with bullshit about your brother and me. Bruce is as much at fault as Lonnell."
"He did this," Dre said. "And if you think I'm going to protect that bastard, then you as sick and crazy as he is." Dre stormed angrily toward the admitting desk and asked to use the phone.
Eppi raced up behind him. "Who you calling?"
"Who the fuck do you think I’m calling? I’m calling the police."
"Wait." She had to think fast. She had to make sure the instigator of the whole mess could get his just desserts, too. "Don't tell them he's here."
"Go to hell."
"Look, he's not going to be here anyway. Just tell them to look for him at Oglesby Hall."
"He's here. I'm not going lie to protect your boyfriend, You’ve done enough of that already."
"Look, by the time they get here, he’ll be gone anyway. I'm not trying to protect Lonnell. I just want to make sure justice is served and that everyone gets what's coming to them. Lonnell will have to answer for what he did, and that's only right. But I want to make sure that Bruce gets what's coming to him as well."
It took a minute, but Dre realized exactly what Eppi meant, and why telling the police that Lonnell was in Oglesby Hall was so important to her. He nodded his approval, and Eppi walked out of the main entrance. Lonnell stood near the curb of the hospital's circular driveway, arms crossed against his chest. She looked at him and felt none of the love she’d had for him just a few short weeks ago. She only felt an intense anger now and an insatiable desire for revenge. Bruce was her target, and Lonnell the instrument through which she would accomplish that.
She walked over and touched his arm. "I can't blame you for listening to Bruce. He's your roommate, and I know you think he's your friend. I know you've been under a lot of stress. But the way you went after Jay? Lonnell, that was just wrong. Jay is a friend. You had no reason at all to do what you did."
"Bruce said --"
Eppi clamped one hand over Lonnell's mouth, silencing him
"Bruce is not to be believed. Matter of fact, its time you knew the truth about your boy, the one you think is on your side."
She grabbed his hand and led him over to the bench that Bruce and Chase had vacated a little over an hour ago. "What I'm about to say is going to hurt you, I know. But I owe it to you to tell the truth."
Lonnell swallowed, sensing a bomb about to fall into his lap.
"Nothing ever happened between Jay and me. But, I did sleep someone other than you."
Lonnell's hand fell away from hers. "What did you say?"
"I cheated on you, Lonnell. I slept with someone else."
Lonnell stood and clenched his fists in rage. He began to sputter. "Who? Who the fuck was it?"
"It was your boy, your roommate. The one you trust so much, the one who set you on Jay." She stood and stared into his eyes. "Bruce and I fucked like two dogs in heat and now he's fucked you over, Lonnell, because if Jay dies, it's murder. And you're the only one that's going to pay."
Lonnell grabbed Eppi by the front of her shirt and pulled her up off her feet. "Skank bitch!" He shook her. "I gave my heart to you. I loved you. Loved you!" He shoved her back down on the bench and ran off. Eppi began to smile, for she knew that the burst of anger Lonnell expended on her didn’t compare to what Bruce was about to get.
"Lonnell, no!" Eppi's scream came too late. Dre tumbled to the linoleum clutching his jaw. Lonnell dived onto him, both fists swinging. Eppi hopped on Lonnell's back, pressing her forearm tightly against his windpipe in an effort to get his attention. Lonnell rose from punching Dre and grabbed at her arms.
He swung her off his back, gripping both of her wrists in his hands. He shook her angrily. "Girl, what the fuck you think you doing?"
Eppi began to kick and bite at him, struggling to free herself from his hold.
“You sick ass mothafucka!" She screamed, full of spite and anger and even guilt. Lonnell was so stunned by the intensity of her emotions that he released her. "You could've killed him! You could've killed him!"
"I did that shit for you! For you."
"He's in a coma! A coma, you crazy son of a bitch! How the hell was that doing something for me? Did I ask you to do that? Did I give you a reason to do that?”
"Don't nobody put there hands on my woman!"
"Jay never touched me!"
"You were at the fucking Step Show with his punk ass!"
"I was not! I went alone in case you forgot. He only walked me home."
"Bruce said you two were together all night."
The mere mention of Bruce’s name calmed her. Dre, who was on the floor trying to move his aching jaw, also heard Bruce named mentioned and began to listen more attentively to their exchange.
"When did you talk to Bruce?" She asked.
"He was looking out for me at the Step Show. He called me from there."
Eppi's shoulders slumped. Bruce, the master manipulator strikes again. Dre finally stood, the pain in his jaw immediately forgotten. "You." He pointed at Lonnell, his hand quivering with anger and hatred. "You did this."
Eppi could sense the explosion building and acted to prevent it. She stood between Lonell and Dre. "Wait for me outside, O.K.?"
Lonnell stared at Dre with a taunting smirk that invited him to try something, to give him a reason to pound his face to nothing as he'd done to Jay. Eppi pulled Lonnell towards the door.
"Outside, O.K.? I'll be out in a minute." She gave Lonnell a shove and waited for him to leave before running back to Dre.
"O.K. It's true. Lonnell hurt Jay. He's sick. He needs help. But it's not all his fault. He would've never gone after Jay if Bruce hadn't filled his head with bullshit about your brother and me. Bruce is as much at fault as Lonnell."
"He did this," Dre said. "And if you think I'm going to protect that bastard, then you as sick and crazy as he is." Dre stormed angrily toward the admitting desk and asked to use the phone.
Eppi raced up behind him. "Who you calling?"
"Who the fuck do you think I’m calling? I’m calling the police."
"Wait." She had to think fast. She had to make sure the instigator of the whole mess could get his just desserts, too. "Don't tell them he's here."
"Go to hell."
"Look, he's not going to be here anyway. Just tell them to look for him at Oglesby Hall."
"He's here. I'm not going lie to protect your boyfriend, You’ve done enough of that already."
"Look, by the time they get here, he’ll be gone anyway. I'm not trying to protect Lonnell. I just want to make sure justice is served and that everyone gets what's coming to them. Lonnell will have to answer for what he did, and that's only right. But I want to make sure that Bruce gets what's coming to him as well."
It took a minute, but Dre realized exactly what Eppi meant, and why telling the police that Lonnell was in Oglesby Hall was so important to her. He nodded his approval, and Eppi walked out of the main entrance. Lonnell stood near the curb of the hospital's circular driveway, arms crossed against his chest. She looked at him and felt none of the love she’d had for him just a few short weeks ago. She only felt an intense anger now and an insatiable desire for revenge. Bruce was her target, and Lonnell the instrument through which she would accomplish that.
She walked over and touched his arm. "I can't blame you for listening to Bruce. He's your roommate, and I know you think he's your friend. I know you've been under a lot of stress. But the way you went after Jay? Lonnell, that was just wrong. Jay is a friend. You had no reason at all to do what you did."
"Bruce said --"
Eppi clamped one hand over Lonnell's mouth, silencing him
"Bruce is not to be believed. Matter of fact, its time you knew the truth about your boy, the one you think is on your side."
She grabbed his hand and led him over to the bench that Bruce and Chase had vacated a little over an hour ago. "What I'm about to say is going to hurt you, I know. But I owe it to you to tell the truth."
Lonnell swallowed, sensing a bomb about to fall into his lap.
"Nothing ever happened between Jay and me. But, I did sleep someone other than you."
Lonnell's hand fell away from hers. "What did you say?"
"I cheated on you, Lonnell. I slept with someone else."
Lonnell stood and clenched his fists in rage. He began to sputter. "Who? Who the fuck was it?"
"It was your boy, your roommate. The one you trust so much, the one who set you on Jay." She stood and stared into his eyes. "Bruce and I fucked like two dogs in heat and now he's fucked you over, Lonnell, because if Jay dies, it's murder. And you're the only one that's going to pay."
Lonnell grabbed Eppi by the front of her shirt and pulled her up off her feet. "Skank bitch!" He shook her. "I gave my heart to you. I loved you. Loved you!" He shoved her back down on the bench and ran off. Eppi began to smile, for she knew that the burst of anger Lonnell expended on her didn’t compare to what Bruce was about to get.
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BMOC Chapter 35
An empty bottle of grape Mad Dog 20/20 lay on Chase's desk. A half-full fifth of Seagram's gin sat on the floor between Bruce’s feet. He poured orange juice into a plastic cup all ready half full with the clear, hot alcohol, and drank the cup in one greedy gulp. Chase lay across his bed, clad only in his boxers. He had become so overheated from drinking that he’d had to discard almost all of his clothes. The two new "drinking buddies" said nothing to each other as they got their drink on. They didn't know what to say. As they slipped deeper and deeper into the lull of the liquor, what did they care about words, anyway?
Chase was completely drunk; in fact, he was so far gone, he really didn't know that he was lying around in boxers. Bruce, an experienced and paced drinker, kept within his limits.
"Were you there when it happened? When Jay died?" Bruce finally spoke.
Getting no response he turned to look at Chase and knew immediately that he was beyond comprehension. Devoid of common sense or care, he stood and tossed the boxers over the bed. They landed near Bruce’s feet.
Bruce’s mouth opened, his slid tongues seductively between his lips and hung there, salivating at the sight of Chase, who turned and looked at him through half-closed eyes.
The lust in Bruce’s eyes was unmistakable. This time, it didn’t disgust Chase because in his alcohol-induced stupor he did not see Bruce, the manipulator, the seducer. He saw eyes that acknowledged his presence, eyes that made him feel wanted and desired. He needed that feeling. He let Bruce stare at him until he throbbed with sexual longing. Chase fell onto the bed, his dick straining a stiff nine inches into the air.
Instinctively, he stroked himself slowly. Bruce came to the bed. Reaching into his shorts, his own piece and began to mimic Chase's one-handed dick massage. He leaned forward, resting his foot long dick on Chase's cheek. Chase shifted, turning his head and sucked Bruce’s dick into his mouth. Bruce pressed in and managed to plug his head in Chase's throat with a well-calculated slide of his hips.
Chase gagged, unaccustomed to the size and pressure of the organ in his throat. Bruce kept sliding against the back of Chase's mouth until he overpowered the gag reflex. Chase opened his mouth wider in acceptance, but was unable to swallow the monster whole. It didn't matter. The suctioning drained pleasure deep from Bruce’s loins; his balls pulled tight in anticipation of cumming.
Quickly, Bruce grabbed the base of his dick to prevent the imminent explosion. Chase, eyes still swimming, did not object or limit Bruce when he joined him on the bed near his feet. Bruce parted Chase's legs and rubbed around the hairy skin outside his anus. Licking one finger, Bruce inserted it smoothly into Chase's ass. The initial resistance of Chase's sphincter gave way as Bruce slid one, then two fingers daringly against the muscles, parting the tight tissues and overcoming their instinct to fight with an increasing pleasure.
Chase closed his eyes and let the sensations overtake him. By the time Bruce’s third finger joined the other two, Chase was wide open, his anus quivering in expectation. Bruce eased his fingers almost entirely out, and pressed the pre-cum-slick tip of his dick in the opening. The intrusion was not welcome, and Chase's muscles contracted to push the offender from his ass. Bruce fought that and shoved half the shaft inside. The sudden pain of penetration broke through Chase's state of inebriation and he yelped out in pain. Bruce collapsed onto him, holding him down. Bruce placed his mouth over Chase's and silenced his torturous cries.
He'd waited all year to tap that virgin ass, and now that he was digging into it, he was going to make sure it was a fuck neither of them would forget. He slid out and back in again. Out and back in again. Bruce grabbed Chase's ass cheeks, one in each hand and pulled them apart, making more room for his pulsating member.
When Bruce noticed Chase's inflated dick stiffening with each stroke inside his ass, he knew it was time to pick up the pace. Pushing Chase's legs forward so that his knees nearly touched his shoulders, Bruce swiveled his dick into Chase like a drilling machine, each out stroke pulling the skin tight around Chase's ass-hole. Chase's mouth parted and moans of excitement exited, filling the room with heavy sounds of pre-orgasmic bliss.
Bruce switched gears, laying a deep-dicking on Chase that left him gasping for breath on each in stroke. Bruce grabbed Chase's dick, yanked it a few times while fucking him, and watched a spectacular display that rivaled the best of the best 4th of July extravaganzas. A two-foot rope of ball juice splattered over Chase's head, and dripped down the red brick wall. Chase moaned and another rope of jizz flew through the air, falling across Chase's lips and into his open mouth. Third and fourth blasts left zig-zag diagrams across his chest, throat and upper shoulders. Bruce kept pounding and Chase kept shooting, unloading 19 years of pent-up desires, sending an endless stream of cum to coat his face, chest, stomach, the sheets, the wall, and Bruce’s forearm.
The intensity of Chase's orgasm squeezed a prize-winning release from Bruce deep into his ass. The hot fluid bubbled out his ass and dribbled out onto the sheets as Bruce lay still until he felt strong enough to stand on two feet again. He pulled on his shorts and left, wandering up to the 13th floor.
He opened the door to what was left of his dorm room. Papers were torn to bits and strewn about; the pillows were ripped and the down feather stuffing filled the air and covered the floor. Glass from a shattered mirror littered the floor near the door. Smoke rose from the overturned television. One bed frame was hanging on a corner of a chest of drawers, and the other was broken into several pieces. The mattresses were torn and shredded, and Lonnell sat on one of them, breathing heavily.
Bruce was about to run, but before he could even think to move, Lonnell leapt like lion, charging him. Their bodies met with the impact of two speeding automobiles. They sailed clear across the outer hall, through the picture-glass window and out into the open air, seven stories above ground.
An empty bottle of grape Mad Dog 20/20 lay on Chase's desk. A half-full fifth of Seagram's gin sat on the floor between Bruce’s feet. He poured orange juice into a plastic cup all ready half full with the clear, hot alcohol, and drank the cup in one greedy gulp. Chase lay across his bed, clad only in his boxers. He had become so overheated from drinking that he’d had to discard almost all of his clothes. The two new "drinking buddies" said nothing to each other as they got their drink on. They didn't know what to say. As they slipped deeper and deeper into the lull of the liquor, what did they care about words, anyway?
Chase was completely drunk; in fact, he was so far gone, he really didn't know that he was lying around in boxers. Bruce, an experienced and paced drinker, kept within his limits.
"Were you there when it happened? When Jay died?" Bruce finally spoke.
Getting no response he turned to look at Chase and knew immediately that he was beyond comprehension. Devoid of common sense or care, he stood and tossed the boxers over the bed. They landed near Bruce’s feet.
Bruce’s mouth opened, his slid tongues seductively between his lips and hung there, salivating at the sight of Chase, who turned and looked at him through half-closed eyes.
The lust in Bruce’s eyes was unmistakable. This time, it didn’t disgust Chase because in his alcohol-induced stupor he did not see Bruce, the manipulator, the seducer. He saw eyes that acknowledged his presence, eyes that made him feel wanted and desired. He needed that feeling. He let Bruce stare at him until he throbbed with sexual longing. Chase fell onto the bed, his dick straining a stiff nine inches into the air.
Instinctively, he stroked himself slowly. Bruce came to the bed. Reaching into his shorts, his own piece and began to mimic Chase's one-handed dick massage. He leaned forward, resting his foot long dick on Chase's cheek. Chase shifted, turning his head and sucked Bruce’s dick into his mouth. Bruce pressed in and managed to plug his head in Chase's throat with a well-calculated slide of his hips.
Chase gagged, unaccustomed to the size and pressure of the organ in his throat. Bruce kept sliding against the back of Chase's mouth until he overpowered the gag reflex. Chase opened his mouth wider in acceptance, but was unable to swallow the monster whole. It didn't matter. The suctioning drained pleasure deep from Bruce’s loins; his balls pulled tight in anticipation of cumming.
Quickly, Bruce grabbed the base of his dick to prevent the imminent explosion. Chase, eyes still swimming, did not object or limit Bruce when he joined him on the bed near his feet. Bruce parted Chase's legs and rubbed around the hairy skin outside his anus. Licking one finger, Bruce inserted it smoothly into Chase's ass. The initial resistance of Chase's sphincter gave way as Bruce slid one, then two fingers daringly against the muscles, parting the tight tissues and overcoming their instinct to fight with an increasing pleasure.
Chase closed his eyes and let the sensations overtake him. By the time Bruce’s third finger joined the other two, Chase was wide open, his anus quivering in expectation. Bruce eased his fingers almost entirely out, and pressed the pre-cum-slick tip of his dick in the opening. The intrusion was not welcome, and Chase's muscles contracted to push the offender from his ass. Bruce fought that and shoved half the shaft inside. The sudden pain of penetration broke through Chase's state of inebriation and he yelped out in pain. Bruce collapsed onto him, holding him down. Bruce placed his mouth over Chase's and silenced his torturous cries.
He'd waited all year to tap that virgin ass, and now that he was digging into it, he was going to make sure it was a fuck neither of them would forget. He slid out and back in again. Out and back in again. Bruce grabbed Chase's ass cheeks, one in each hand and pulled them apart, making more room for his pulsating member.
When Bruce noticed Chase's inflated dick stiffening with each stroke inside his ass, he knew it was time to pick up the pace. Pushing Chase's legs forward so that his knees nearly touched his shoulders, Bruce swiveled his dick into Chase like a drilling machine, each out stroke pulling the skin tight around Chase's ass-hole. Chase's mouth parted and moans of excitement exited, filling the room with heavy sounds of pre-orgasmic bliss.
Bruce switched gears, laying a deep-dicking on Chase that left him gasping for breath on each in stroke. Bruce grabbed Chase's dick, yanked it a few times while fucking him, and watched a spectacular display that rivaled the best of the best 4th of July extravaganzas. A two-foot rope of ball juice splattered over Chase's head, and dripped down the red brick wall. Chase moaned and another rope of jizz flew through the air, falling across Chase's lips and into his open mouth. Third and fourth blasts left zig-zag diagrams across his chest, throat and upper shoulders. Bruce kept pounding and Chase kept shooting, unloading 19 years of pent-up desires, sending an endless stream of cum to coat his face, chest, stomach, the sheets, the wall, and Bruce’s forearm.
The intensity of Chase's orgasm squeezed a prize-winning release from Bruce deep into his ass. The hot fluid bubbled out his ass and dribbled out onto the sheets as Bruce lay still until he felt strong enough to stand on two feet again. He pulled on his shorts and left, wandering up to the 13th floor.
He opened the door to what was left of his dorm room. Papers were torn to bits and strewn about; the pillows were ripped and the down feather stuffing filled the air and covered the floor. Glass from a shattered mirror littered the floor near the door. Smoke rose from the overturned television. One bed frame was hanging on a corner of a chest of drawers, and the other was broken into several pieces. The mattresses were torn and shredded, and Lonnell sat on one of them, breathing heavily.
Bruce was about to run, but before he could even think to move, Lonnell leapt like lion, charging him. Their bodies met with the impact of two speeding automobiles. They sailed clear across the outer hall, through the picture-glass window and out into the open air, seven stories above ground.
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BMOC Chapter 36
They tumbled 56 feet in six seconds, somersaulting through the air, Lonnell still holding Bruce’s throat tightly. What went through their minds in those few seconds? One knew it was the end. He closed his eyes the minute the glass exploded against his back. He used those five seconds to ask his Higher Power for forgiveness. The other was still so caught up in the emotion of anger that he didn’t even realize he was falling.
After Dre’s call, the police had pulled near Oglesby Hall and were walking toward the front entrance when an explosion of glass interrupted the relative calm of the Sunday afternoon. Everyone looked up towards the direction of the sound, and saw the two bodies plummeting towards the ground. People scattered in different directions in order to avoid the falling bodies.
What most of the witnesses would recall later, after recovering from the shock, was the sound. It was a bone-chilling crack as the two hit the pavement. One described it as the sound of a huge watermelon being split in two.
So stunned and horrified by the first fall, the spectators missed how the second man fell on top of the first, effectively cushioning the impact of his fall. He was unconscious, blood oozing from his nose and mouth.
Screams of terror rose out of the stillness and people began to gather near the scene.. The police rushed to the two bodies, checking for life, even though they knew the first man's condition with certainty.
"Got a live one." The officer who knelt over the second man instructed his partner to call for the EMT's.
One of screams belonged to Eppi, who had rushed over to Oglesby from the hospital. She expected chaos, but not the kind that came tumbling out of the sky and now lay before her. She walked over to the bodies and looked back and forth between the two. She shook her head as she bent down next to Lonnell. She said a silent prayer, then bent down to kiss Lonnell's cheek. She wiped a tear from her eyes as she closed his. Then she began to scream again.
She screamed until the arrival of the EMTs, who recognized her hysteria right away and summoned a doctor from student health services. With four grown men struggling to keep her still, the doctor managed to inject a sedative into one of her arms. They put her on a stretcher and transported her along with Bruce to the hospital.
Within half an hour, the coroner had arrived, TV crews and reporters were on the scene. They reported the suspicious but tragic death of University of Illinois student Lonnell Demby and the critical injury of freshman football player Bruce DeLeon after both plummeted from a 7th floor window.
When the King family got word at the hospital, Mrs. King fainted. Bruce had been around her home so much as a growing boy, she tended to think of him as one of her sons. Now he was in as serious condition as Jay. His prognosis didn't sound good; after all, he'd fallen 56 feet and crashed into pavement -- even though the fall was cushioned by the 200 + pound Lonnell, the impact was still great. Mrs. King was certain that the same person that nearly killed her baby was the same person responsible for this latest tragedy.
In the course of their interviews, reporters and news crews heard worried students referring to Jay's attack and hopped on it. Could this be the beginning stage of a serial killer's plan to eliminate young black males on the college campus? They descended on the King family at Pavillion Memorial to get their take on the situation. It was Dre who cleared everything up for them. He was captured on news broadcasts that night accusing the Llonnell of Jay and Bruce’s attacks. The reporters were somewhat skeptical; why, they asked, would Lonnell throw himself out of window with Bruce?
"If you can crush someone's head against concrete, the way he did my brother, there's nothing he wouldn't -- or couldn't do to others or himself." Dre's replied.
Dre, too, embraced the news with relief. Death was the only suitable punishment for the man who had so brutally attacked his brother. Dre was glad God was so swift with his wrath. As for Bruce, Dre held no expectation that he'd survive through the night. His expectations mirrored those of the doctors, who were so astonished that the man had survived in the first place.
They tumbled 56 feet in six seconds, somersaulting through the air, Lonnell still holding Bruce’s throat tightly. What went through their minds in those few seconds? One knew it was the end. He closed his eyes the minute the glass exploded against his back. He used those five seconds to ask his Higher Power for forgiveness. The other was still so caught up in the emotion of anger that he didn’t even realize he was falling.
After Dre’s call, the police had pulled near Oglesby Hall and were walking toward the front entrance when an explosion of glass interrupted the relative calm of the Sunday afternoon. Everyone looked up towards the direction of the sound, and saw the two bodies plummeting towards the ground. People scattered in different directions in order to avoid the falling bodies.
What most of the witnesses would recall later, after recovering from the shock, was the sound. It was a bone-chilling crack as the two hit the pavement. One described it as the sound of a huge watermelon being split in two.
So stunned and horrified by the first fall, the spectators missed how the second man fell on top of the first, effectively cushioning the impact of his fall. He was unconscious, blood oozing from his nose and mouth.
Screams of terror rose out of the stillness and people began to gather near the scene.. The police rushed to the two bodies, checking for life, even though they knew the first man's condition with certainty.
"Got a live one." The officer who knelt over the second man instructed his partner to call for the EMT's.
One of screams belonged to Eppi, who had rushed over to Oglesby from the hospital. She expected chaos, but not the kind that came tumbling out of the sky and now lay before her. She walked over to the bodies and looked back and forth between the two. She shook her head as she bent down next to Lonnell. She said a silent prayer, then bent down to kiss Lonnell's cheek. She wiped a tear from her eyes as she closed his. Then she began to scream again.
She screamed until the arrival of the EMTs, who recognized her hysteria right away and summoned a doctor from student health services. With four grown men struggling to keep her still, the doctor managed to inject a sedative into one of her arms. They put her on a stretcher and transported her along with Bruce to the hospital.
Within half an hour, the coroner had arrived, TV crews and reporters were on the scene. They reported the suspicious but tragic death of University of Illinois student Lonnell Demby and the critical injury of freshman football player Bruce DeLeon after both plummeted from a 7th floor window.
When the King family got word at the hospital, Mrs. King fainted. Bruce had been around her home so much as a growing boy, she tended to think of him as one of her sons. Now he was in as serious condition as Jay. His prognosis didn't sound good; after all, he'd fallen 56 feet and crashed into pavement -- even though the fall was cushioned by the 200 + pound Lonnell, the impact was still great. Mrs. King was certain that the same person that nearly killed her baby was the same person responsible for this latest tragedy.
In the course of their interviews, reporters and news crews heard worried students referring to Jay's attack and hopped on it. Could this be the beginning stage of a serial killer's plan to eliminate young black males on the college campus? They descended on the King family at Pavillion Memorial to get their take on the situation. It was Dre who cleared everything up for them. He was captured on news broadcasts that night accusing the Llonnell of Jay and Bruce’s attacks. The reporters were somewhat skeptical; why, they asked, would Lonnell throw himself out of window with Bruce?
"If you can crush someone's head against concrete, the way he did my brother, there's nothing he wouldn't -- or couldn't do to others or himself." Dre's replied.
Dre, too, embraced the news with relief. Death was the only suitable punishment for the man who had so brutally attacked his brother. Dre was glad God was so swift with his wrath. As for Bruce, Dre held no expectation that he'd survive through the night. His expectations mirrored those of the doctors, who were so astonished that the man had survived in the first place.
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BMOC Chapter 37
Chase thought he was dead -- or dying -- because the pain he felt couldn't be any worse than the torture of hell. He woke up naked, smelling of stale sweat and liquor. His skin was tight with dried secretions. His head ached terribly. But the most reveling detail was that his ass felt like he had tried to pass a telephone pole. When he saw the half-empty fifth of gin on his desk and the two empty cups, he began to piece things together. Bruce. Drinking. Sex
The thought sent him – walking bowlegged from pain -- into the bathroom, where he stayed on his knees in front of the toilet bowl. He heaved until he emptied the lingering alcohol from his system. Tears streamed from his eyes, but he didn't know if they were the result of his physical pain or the mental torture caused by the knowledge that he'd given himself, his body, to Bruce DeLeon. It was an understatement to say he couldn't handle liquor. He knew his tolerance for alcohol was extremely low. He knew that. Why he mixed such volatile elements as his weakness for alcohol with Bruce DeLeon, he could only write off to stupidity. It was a combination as dangerous as drinking and driving, and now that he lay on the bathroom floor with his ass raw and throbbing with pain. And the evidence showed that not only had he been stupid enough to let Bruce touch him, he’d been stupid enough to let him do it without a condom.
The drink they shared was supposed to take Chase away from his problems; now, he faced twice as many as he had just hours ago. He didn't even have the strength to laugh at fate's cruelty. As a preacher’s son, he knew this was the work of the devil. Then and there, he vowed to get his life together with God's help.
Dre finally left the hospital late that night after the shock waves of the recent events began to quiet down. He went back to Jay's room in the dorm, showered and changed into more comfortable nightclothes. He was about to drift into much-needed sleep when his thoughts turned to Chase. He hadn't seen him since that morning, but given the shocking developments of the day, he reasoned they had some things to talk about.
He stood outside Chase's room, knocking and got no response. He was about to go back to Jay's room when Chase's door opened -- a crack – and he peered from the darkness inside. Dre came back to the door.
"Hey. You okay?" Dre asked.
Chase did not open the door further. He also did not respond.
"Can I come in? I need to talk to you."
"No. It's late. I don't feel good."
"Sorry to hear that. I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to make sure you're OK. We can talk about what happened tomorrow."
"What happened?" The door opened wider, revealing more of Chase's face. Trauma was unmistakably present in his features, and the alarm in his voice was very evident. All he could concentrate on was the horrible fact that he'd had sex with -- or been raped by, (he didn't know which to believe or which version of events was worse) Bruce DeLeon, and Dre's "what happened" seemed to be a reference to this fact.
Dre stepped closer to the door. "Don't tell me you don't know."
Chase instinctively backed away. "Don't know what?"
Dre sighed. It was evident Chase knew nothing about what had transpired that day.
"Oh, man. Where you been, Chase?"
Chase closed his eyes, wishing that he could stop thinking about where he'd been, what he'd been doing, and whom he'd been doing it with.
"Lonnell Demby is dead and Bruce isn’t far behind him."
Okay, he thought to himself. It's time to wake up. I've been in this nightmare far too long all ready. But he knew he was not dreaming. Dre really was standing there ... and he'd heard him right.
"I ... don't ... believe it." Chase stammered.
"He's dead. He and Bruce fell out the 7th floor window today. It's been all over the news. Have you been sleeping all day?" Dre tried to look into the room, but the room was in total darkness.
"Fell out a window? How?" Chase could focus on nothing but this new development.
Dre sighed. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. It was Lonnell, see. He attacked Jay. He had serious issues and it was all about Eppi. Bruce was involved in it somehow, and I guess he snapped today and jumped on Bruce. The two of them fell out the window, Lonnell was dead instantly, and Bruce is critical."
Chase's mouth hung open in shock.
"I know. It's a mess and hard to believe." Dre paused to yawn. "Man, I am wore OUT. And you look like I feel, so I won't bother you. We can talk tomorrow. Get some rest. Goodnight."
As Dre walked down the hall, Chase continued to stand there open mouthed. Then it finally dawned on him. Bruce had fallen 7 stories and lived, even if he was expected to die. The thought troubled him immensely, for it indicated the tenacity of the devil, a devil who had violated this preacher's son and used him like a cheap whore. Chase sensed that despite Dre's confidence Bruce was on his way to the morgue, he would somehow, someway, survive. Chase was determined that this form of evil would indeed leave the planet -- tonight! He put on his shoes and left the dorms. Pavillion Memorial was his destination.
Chase thought he was dead -- or dying -- because the pain he felt couldn't be any worse than the torture of hell. He woke up naked, smelling of stale sweat and liquor. His skin was tight with dried secretions. His head ached terribly. But the most reveling detail was that his ass felt like he had tried to pass a telephone pole. When he saw the half-empty fifth of gin on his desk and the two empty cups, he began to piece things together. Bruce. Drinking. Sex
The thought sent him – walking bowlegged from pain -- into the bathroom, where he stayed on his knees in front of the toilet bowl. He heaved until he emptied the lingering alcohol from his system. Tears streamed from his eyes, but he didn't know if they were the result of his physical pain or the mental torture caused by the knowledge that he'd given himself, his body, to Bruce DeLeon. It was an understatement to say he couldn't handle liquor. He knew his tolerance for alcohol was extremely low. He knew that. Why he mixed such volatile elements as his weakness for alcohol with Bruce DeLeon, he could only write off to stupidity. It was a combination as dangerous as drinking and driving, and now that he lay on the bathroom floor with his ass raw and throbbing with pain. And the evidence showed that not only had he been stupid enough to let Bruce touch him, he’d been stupid enough to let him do it without a condom.
The drink they shared was supposed to take Chase away from his problems; now, he faced twice as many as he had just hours ago. He didn't even have the strength to laugh at fate's cruelty. As a preacher’s son, he knew this was the work of the devil. Then and there, he vowed to get his life together with God's help.
* * * *
He stood outside Chase's room, knocking and got no response. He was about to go back to Jay's room when Chase's door opened -- a crack – and he peered from the darkness inside. Dre came back to the door.
"Hey. You okay?" Dre asked.
Chase did not open the door further. He also did not respond.
"Can I come in? I need to talk to you."
"No. It's late. I don't feel good."
"Sorry to hear that. I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to make sure you're OK. We can talk about what happened tomorrow."
"What happened?" The door opened wider, revealing more of Chase's face. Trauma was unmistakably present in his features, and the alarm in his voice was very evident. All he could concentrate on was the horrible fact that he'd had sex with -- or been raped by, (he didn't know which to believe or which version of events was worse) Bruce DeLeon, and Dre's "what happened" seemed to be a reference to this fact.
Dre stepped closer to the door. "Don't tell me you don't know."
Chase instinctively backed away. "Don't know what?"
Dre sighed. It was evident Chase knew nothing about what had transpired that day.
"Oh, man. Where you been, Chase?"
Chase closed his eyes, wishing that he could stop thinking about where he'd been, what he'd been doing, and whom he'd been doing it with.
"Lonnell Demby is dead and Bruce isn’t far behind him."
Okay, he thought to himself. It's time to wake up. I've been in this nightmare far too long all ready. But he knew he was not dreaming. Dre really was standing there ... and he'd heard him right.
"I ... don't ... believe it." Chase stammered.
"He's dead. He and Bruce fell out the 7th floor window today. It's been all over the news. Have you been sleeping all day?" Dre tried to look into the room, but the room was in total darkness.
"Fell out a window? How?" Chase could focus on nothing but this new development.
Dre sighed. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. It was Lonnell, see. He attacked Jay. He had serious issues and it was all about Eppi. Bruce was involved in it somehow, and I guess he snapped today and jumped on Bruce. The two of them fell out the window, Lonnell was dead instantly, and Bruce is critical."
Chase's mouth hung open in shock.
"I know. It's a mess and hard to believe." Dre paused to yawn. "Man, I am wore OUT. And you look like I feel, so I won't bother you. We can talk tomorrow. Get some rest. Goodnight."
As Dre walked down the hall, Chase continued to stand there open mouthed. Then it finally dawned on him. Bruce had fallen 7 stories and lived, even if he was expected to die. The thought troubled him immensely, for it indicated the tenacity of the devil, a devil who had violated this preacher's son and used him like a cheap whore. Chase sensed that despite Dre's confidence Bruce was on his way to the morgue, he would somehow, someway, survive. Chase was determined that this form of evil would indeed leave the planet -- tonight! He put on his shoes and left the dorms. Pavillion Memorial was his destination.
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BMOC Chapter 39
Bruce lay unconscious and in traction in the ICU, a couple of rooms down the hall from Jay. Keeping post at his bedside was his mother, a strong-willed woman who nonetheless had been overwhelmed by tears from the minute she saw him in his present condition. Like any mother, she did not understand how or why anyone would want to hurt her son. The Bruce she knew was lovable and kind. She knew he'd always been popular and well-liked by everyone. So it was difficult to imagine what made this Lonnell person attack him. Jealousy, perhaps? It all seemed irrelevant now that Lonnell was dead.
Early that next morning, just after seven, The King’s walked down to check on Mrs. DeLeon. The pain they saw in her face was a feeling they knew too well. But after two days of sitting around wallowing in that pain, they were both ready for a reprieve.
"Hey girl," Lorraine King said.
Mrs. DeLeon started, surprised by the sound of a voice. She wiped away tears and turned to view the visitors. She stood and the two grieving mothers embraced, sharing and affirming their pain. They both seemed somewhat reluctant to let go. They kept one arm around the other's waist, and turned to look at Bruce. Their hold on each other tightened.
"We were about to go down to the cafeteria and get some breakfast," Lorraine said. "Why don't you come with us?"
"I couldn't eat if I tried."
She rubbed Mrs. McLemore's back affectionately. "Don't matter, girl. We all need a break."
Mrs. McLemore tensed. She couldn't imagine leaving, but she knew she couldn't stay in this silence and self-contained pain much longer, either.
"You can get a cup of coffee. I know you could probably use it." Mrs. DeLeon nodded. Her all-night vigil left no time for sleep, even though her body craved it. And with Bruce’s condition so unstable, she knew she wouldn't find peaceful sleep even if she tried. Coffee sounded like the perfect, temporary fix. "All right." She grabbed her purse from the chair, leaned down to kiss Bruce’s cheek and left the room.
Not long after, Chase made his move.
He'd come to the hospital just after midnight and found his plan thwarted by the presence of security, who would not allow him to enter a patient ward -- let alone the ICU -- at that time of the morning. Rather than walk back to the dorm, where he knew he'd lose his nerve, Chase sat outside on a bench and waited. He sat there for seven hours.
He refused to waver from what he felt was the most important mission of his life. From the beginning, he knew Bruce was evil. Chase had no idea the depths of his possession by that evil until just recently. And like evil itself, Bruce seemed unstoppable. Not even a fall from a 13th story window. Chase refused to believe what Dre had said. Bruce was not on his way to any morgue. He would need help for that to happen, the kind of help Chase came to provide.
His palms were cold as ice and extremely clammy as he contemplated what he had to do. He had no choice. Bruce’s violation had stripped him of that. All he had left was this burning drive to put an end to Bruce’s madness once and for all.
Around 7:30, just an hour after daybreak, he went back inside. He knew that visiting hours didn't begin until 8 a.m., so to pass time, he headed for the cafeteria. On his way, he saw a nurse enter a small storage closet, and paused. His original plan called for the use of a pillow, but when he passed by the storage closet and saw all the supplies there, he revised his plans.
Once in the cafeteria, he certainly wasn't expecting to see anyone he knew, but as he was walking toward the serving line, he cast a glance to his right and saw Jay's parents sitting at a table with some lady who looked like she was in a trance.
When the King’s saw him, they recognized him, but did not feel comfortable enough to invite him over. After all, they'd only met Chase the yesterday. He smiled at them and they nodded back.
After purchasing a steaming cup of coffee, Chase stood adding creamer to the brew, and reasoned that the woman in the trance had to be Bruce’s mother. The King' obviously knew the woman; Chase knew that Bruce and Jay had grown up together so it made sense that their parents also knew each other. If he squinted, Bruce’s features even matched hers, save for those snake-green eyes.
He sipped from the cup and smiled. If Bruce’s mama was down here, there probably wasn't anyone upstairs with Bruce, he thought. Perfect. The clock on the wall read 7:47. He only needed two minutes at the most to do what he'd come to do, so hopefully, they'd stay put for at least 15 minutes more.
He went up to the ground floor and bought a Chicago Tribune, which he spent the next five minutes reading. He didn't discard it, however, because he had other uses for it. He walked around and found the storage closet where he'd seen the nurse just minutes ago. He didn't have to wait long. Another nurse appeared and unlocked the door. Before the door shut behind her, Chase followed. He grabbed the first blunt object he saw -- in this case, a packaged set of crutches -- and bashed the nurse over the head. She didn't have time to scream or see at who'd hit her. She fell to the floor. Chase moved fast. He searched the shelves until he located what he needed, then hid it in the fold of the newspaper. Quickly, he exited the storage closet and walked toward the bank of elevators near the entrance.
[FONT="]
[/FONT] BMOC Chapter 40
Chase announced himself as a visitor for Jay just after 8 a.m. The ICU nursing staff recognized him from the night Jay was first brought into ICU, and did not question his presence. He was admitted inside the ICU and went directly to Jay's room. He walked to the window and peered out of the blinds, noting that the day was shaping up beautifully.
He was numb inside, refusing to feel anything until he'd done what he came to do. A minute of hesitation could mean failure, but this was one mission he planned to complete, for his sanity and peace of mind. That meant eliminating Bruce.
He turned from the window and looked over at Jay. Fate was cruel and uncertain to put he and Jay in their respective situations. At least he could make one thing right, he thought. He bent down and without regard for who saw him, he kissed Jay's lips gently. Even though Jay was comatose, he felt warmth when their lips met that gave him hope.
The time had arrived.
Chase stepped into the hallway, looked left, looked right, and not seeing anyone he proceeded in the direction of Bruce’s room. The sight of Bruce in such a powerless state -- so fragile, so unguarded – gave Chase some sense of satisfaction, but vengeance was yet to be had. Bruce’s suffering wouldn't last. The day would come when he'd open those green eyes and walk right out of this hospital, back into the world to cause more pain and disruption. Chase shivered at the thought. His determination led him further into the room. He stood near the bed, opened the Chicago Tribune tucked underneath his arm and looked at what was tucked into the folds.
He held the syringe in his right hand, while opening the seal with his left. Watching his handiwork, he realized that he was shaking uncontrollably. Could he force himself to do it?
The needle fit easily into the vulnerable nook between Bruce’s bicep and forearm, the thin, cold tip aimed at a pulsating vein. Chase's thumb slid over the top of the syringe. He said a silent prayer.
Can you believe this shit? Here I am, lying flat on my back, at the mercy of this loco motherfucker. Can't move, can't talk, can't even open my eyes.
I know I done some fucked up shit to people, but why everybody want to take my ass out all of a sudden?
Okay, so Lonnell was pissed because I fucked his girl. And? The bitch wasn't worth all the drama anyway. It wasn't like we were getting down regular. Be mad, motherfucka, but don't trip out. God don't like ugly. That's why his ass is dead now.
I feel bad about Jay. Now that was wrong. He was my dog, my boy. I guess if I ever loved a man, it was him. Brother love. Back in the day, I trusted him with my life. Told his ass everything there was to know. Knew we would always be cool. Problems started when we started getting down. It just happened. I didn't really want to go there with my boy, and I don't think he did either, but the dick had other plans. Messed everything up. Then he got all bent because I started getting down with Dre. Shit wasn't none of his business, but he had to play the big brother role.
And look at this fool now. Fucked up and about to commit murder because he confused. I may have tapped that ass but Jay’s the one who messed up his head. Wasn't me. I didn't force him to serve me that ass like he did. He needs to be down in Jay's room about to taking his life, not mine.
Don't tell me this fool is praying. Shit. He won't do it. He ain’t got no fucking balls.
I kinda wish he would do it.
Ain't much I haven't seen or done, and I’m barely 19. It's like going to the carnival, riding all the rides, eating some of everything, playing a game or two, and looking for the next best thing to do only to realize you done every fucking thing. So when the thrill is gone, what you do? You take your ass home.
Home
By the time Chase left the ICU, doctors were rushing to answer a Code Blue. Bruce DeLeon had gone into arrest.
Fifteen minutes later, he was pronounced dead.
Bruce lay unconscious and in traction in the ICU, a couple of rooms down the hall from Jay. Keeping post at his bedside was his mother, a strong-willed woman who nonetheless had been overwhelmed by tears from the minute she saw him in his present condition. Like any mother, she did not understand how or why anyone would want to hurt her son. The Bruce she knew was lovable and kind. She knew he'd always been popular and well-liked by everyone. So it was difficult to imagine what made this Lonnell person attack him. Jealousy, perhaps? It all seemed irrelevant now that Lonnell was dead.
Early that next morning, just after seven, The King’s walked down to check on Mrs. DeLeon. The pain they saw in her face was a feeling they knew too well. But after two days of sitting around wallowing in that pain, they were both ready for a reprieve.
"Hey girl," Lorraine King said.
Mrs. DeLeon started, surprised by the sound of a voice. She wiped away tears and turned to view the visitors. She stood and the two grieving mothers embraced, sharing and affirming their pain. They both seemed somewhat reluctant to let go. They kept one arm around the other's waist, and turned to look at Bruce. Their hold on each other tightened.
"We were about to go down to the cafeteria and get some breakfast," Lorraine said. "Why don't you come with us?"
"I couldn't eat if I tried."
She rubbed Mrs. McLemore's back affectionately. "Don't matter, girl. We all need a break."
Mrs. McLemore tensed. She couldn't imagine leaving, but she knew she couldn't stay in this silence and self-contained pain much longer, either.
"You can get a cup of coffee. I know you could probably use it." Mrs. DeLeon nodded. Her all-night vigil left no time for sleep, even though her body craved it. And with Bruce’s condition so unstable, she knew she wouldn't find peaceful sleep even if she tried. Coffee sounded like the perfect, temporary fix. "All right." She grabbed her purse from the chair, leaned down to kiss Bruce’s cheek and left the room.
Not long after, Chase made his move.
He'd come to the hospital just after midnight and found his plan thwarted by the presence of security, who would not allow him to enter a patient ward -- let alone the ICU -- at that time of the morning. Rather than walk back to the dorm, where he knew he'd lose his nerve, Chase sat outside on a bench and waited. He sat there for seven hours.
He refused to waver from what he felt was the most important mission of his life. From the beginning, he knew Bruce was evil. Chase had no idea the depths of his possession by that evil until just recently. And like evil itself, Bruce seemed unstoppable. Not even a fall from a 13th story window. Chase refused to believe what Dre had said. Bruce was not on his way to any morgue. He would need help for that to happen, the kind of help Chase came to provide.
His palms were cold as ice and extremely clammy as he contemplated what he had to do. He had no choice. Bruce’s violation had stripped him of that. All he had left was this burning drive to put an end to Bruce’s madness once and for all.
Around 7:30, just an hour after daybreak, he went back inside. He knew that visiting hours didn't begin until 8 a.m., so to pass time, he headed for the cafeteria. On his way, he saw a nurse enter a small storage closet, and paused. His original plan called for the use of a pillow, but when he passed by the storage closet and saw all the supplies there, he revised his plans.
Once in the cafeteria, he certainly wasn't expecting to see anyone he knew, but as he was walking toward the serving line, he cast a glance to his right and saw Jay's parents sitting at a table with some lady who looked like she was in a trance.
When the King’s saw him, they recognized him, but did not feel comfortable enough to invite him over. After all, they'd only met Chase the yesterday. He smiled at them and they nodded back.
After purchasing a steaming cup of coffee, Chase stood adding creamer to the brew, and reasoned that the woman in the trance had to be Bruce’s mother. The King' obviously knew the woman; Chase knew that Bruce and Jay had grown up together so it made sense that their parents also knew each other. If he squinted, Bruce’s features even matched hers, save for those snake-green eyes.
He sipped from the cup and smiled. If Bruce’s mama was down here, there probably wasn't anyone upstairs with Bruce, he thought. Perfect. The clock on the wall read 7:47. He only needed two minutes at the most to do what he'd come to do, so hopefully, they'd stay put for at least 15 minutes more.
He went up to the ground floor and bought a Chicago Tribune, which he spent the next five minutes reading. He didn't discard it, however, because he had other uses for it. He walked around and found the storage closet where he'd seen the nurse just minutes ago. He didn't have to wait long. Another nurse appeared and unlocked the door. Before the door shut behind her, Chase followed. He grabbed the first blunt object he saw -- in this case, a packaged set of crutches -- and bashed the nurse over the head. She didn't have time to scream or see at who'd hit her. She fell to the floor. Chase moved fast. He searched the shelves until he located what he needed, then hid it in the fold of the newspaper. Quickly, he exited the storage closet and walked toward the bank of elevators near the entrance.
[FONT="]
[/FONT] BMOC Chapter 40
Chase announced himself as a visitor for Jay just after 8 a.m. The ICU nursing staff recognized him from the night Jay was first brought into ICU, and did not question his presence. He was admitted inside the ICU and went directly to Jay's room. He walked to the window and peered out of the blinds, noting that the day was shaping up beautifully.
He was numb inside, refusing to feel anything until he'd done what he came to do. A minute of hesitation could mean failure, but this was one mission he planned to complete, for his sanity and peace of mind. That meant eliminating Bruce.
He turned from the window and looked over at Jay. Fate was cruel and uncertain to put he and Jay in their respective situations. At least he could make one thing right, he thought. He bent down and without regard for who saw him, he kissed Jay's lips gently. Even though Jay was comatose, he felt warmth when their lips met that gave him hope.
The time had arrived.
Chase stepped into the hallway, looked left, looked right, and not seeing anyone he proceeded in the direction of Bruce’s room. The sight of Bruce in such a powerless state -- so fragile, so unguarded – gave Chase some sense of satisfaction, but vengeance was yet to be had. Bruce’s suffering wouldn't last. The day would come when he'd open those green eyes and walk right out of this hospital, back into the world to cause more pain and disruption. Chase shivered at the thought. His determination led him further into the room. He stood near the bed, opened the Chicago Tribune tucked underneath his arm and looked at what was tucked into the folds.
He held the syringe in his right hand, while opening the seal with his left. Watching his handiwork, he realized that he was shaking uncontrollably. Could he force himself to do it?
The needle fit easily into the vulnerable nook between Bruce’s bicep and forearm, the thin, cold tip aimed at a pulsating vein. Chase's thumb slid over the top of the syringe. He said a silent prayer.
* * * *
I know I done some fucked up shit to people, but why everybody want to take my ass out all of a sudden?
Okay, so Lonnell was pissed because I fucked his girl. And? The bitch wasn't worth all the drama anyway. It wasn't like we were getting down regular. Be mad, motherfucka, but don't trip out. God don't like ugly. That's why his ass is dead now.
I feel bad about Jay. Now that was wrong. He was my dog, my boy. I guess if I ever loved a man, it was him. Brother love. Back in the day, I trusted him with my life. Told his ass everything there was to know. Knew we would always be cool. Problems started when we started getting down. It just happened. I didn't really want to go there with my boy, and I don't think he did either, but the dick had other plans. Messed everything up. Then he got all bent because I started getting down with Dre. Shit wasn't none of his business, but he had to play the big brother role.
And look at this fool now. Fucked up and about to commit murder because he confused. I may have tapped that ass but Jay’s the one who messed up his head. Wasn't me. I didn't force him to serve me that ass like he did. He needs to be down in Jay's room about to taking his life, not mine.
Don't tell me this fool is praying. Shit. He won't do it. He ain’t got no fucking balls.
I kinda wish he would do it.
Ain't much I haven't seen or done, and I’m barely 19. It's like going to the carnival, riding all the rides, eating some of everything, playing a game or two, and looking for the next best thing to do only to realize you done every fucking thing. So when the thrill is gone, what you do? You take your ass home.
Home
* * * * *
Fifteen minutes later, he was pronounced dead.
