The Man Who Got What He Wanted

Bill Has a Payday and Andy Gets a Dad

Author's note: Okay, you know me, it runs long but stick with it and get out your Kleenex or shop towels, I prefer the latter. This is the bridge to Chapter Three so....sorry, gentlemen, the sex is more alluded to, than done. Promise, I'll more than make up for that. Yes...I...Will. Anyone for '"feudin' a fussin and a fightin'"? Go to YouTube and listen to that tune, big hit when I was young, knew the lady who sings it. Those were the days when good fun really was. Of course, I hadn't discovered sex and was still a virgin. I think. Been so long....

Andy found it odd to be sleeping with Keith and BJ with no one trying to fuck him. That was the idea of his usually sleeping with men, fucking or whatever else they had in mind but….the three of them lolled about in BJ’s big bed, naked, no moves made on him...he wondered if he should try and make a move on one of them….but which one? He liked both guys but they were sleeping so peacefully, Keith had his hand over Andy’s torso but...there was nothing particularly sexual, just like a real good friend. A buddy….Andy rolled into him and, like the other two, went to sleep thinking how great it was to be with two guys he really liked and admired...just have him with them. It was comfortable.

Elsewhere Bill was sleeping alone, not comfortably,  and wondering why he wasn’t at least being given a test flight by...Keith so he could carry the word to his boss as to the quality of the merchandise. In Bill’s mind, he wasn’t the highest paid stud for no reason, he was terrific at what he did, his clientele said so...of course for what they’d paid, they’d better think it was terrific or then they would have to admit to themselves they’d been screwed-in two different ways.

Part of the reason for the quiet was that it had been a full day,  a week or so later, not strenuous but the sort of day that requires concentration, consideration and, finally, where they were now, just pleased to be together. Plus this. Keith didn’t realize it but he’d come to feel overly protective of the man with the magnificent angel on his chest. That day as they’d put him in and out of every sort of kink, sex toy, bondage, vinyl, rubber, latex, leather, steel, rope...Keith hoped he understood he was just auditioning everything that had been ordered from online sex shops, catalogs, fetish places….if there was one missed it was so marginal as to not be noticed or needed. All of this was in preparation for the big fuck off which, most annoyingly if you were Bill, hadn’t been scheduled, just alluded to, almost like signs in theatres that said, “Coming Next Week!!”. But just when...he didn’t precisely know and Keith was almost no help or he was keeping silence for...whomever. Probably BJ, who else? Also, his plans to find Andy and beat the shit as well as whatever information he had out of him flunked as Andy disappeared. Bill’s reputation was such that if he asked, he didn’t get much of an answer just that, nope, hadn’t seen him around...All of which agitated Bill even more as, by now, he actively looked forward to slapping the kid around, it’d been fun once and now there was a purpose. Just….no Andy.

That man relaxed, scooted closer to the pair that were Keith and BJ, in a way hoping to be accepted as some small part of them. He knew they cared for and about him-that’s what all this hoopla was about, getting even with Bill for a beating Andy had been given. At least that was the public reason, the one that was easily accepted by all who disliked Bill onward to wishing him dead....or neutered, didn’t matter which but choice number two did add mental pleasure to many….. Of course, there was the beating, of that they all were only too aware and to see him paid back….some things are worth waiting for. His reward was that both guys extended an arm and drew him to them, nothing amazing but the sort of gesture that said, “You’re part of us, get comfortable, lean on our shoulders, we care….” Somewhere inside he found that maybe, too hard to think because he knew he had another man, he might really love-Keith,  looked at him almost, the awareness of one for whom there are feelings, he was occupied in sleep, almost didn’t notice he was there except for a small gesture; Keith flicked a lock of his hair and thoughtlessly kissed it into place.

Bill was never really welcomed wherever he went, it was assumed he was looking for a John with deep pockets something in short supply everywhere. His presence did nothing but put a cloud over whatever was going on. Everyone knew he was for sale but...not here, if everyone there put all their money on the table he would just laugh. Also, Bill, or the sight of him, drove away customers-too much talk about him led clients to think that where he wasn’t was a good place to be. Of course, he never realized that, thought of himself as a good draw for all the other studs who would have to accept what he threw back. Truth was, he threw everyone back, not one there had the cash to even suggest buying him a drink. Fine with Aidan, the bartender, Bill brought no business but, house rules, unless he did something, he couldn’t toss him out. However house rules didn’t say he couldn’t slip something in a drink which was how Bill found himself loosely tied to a table, ass up, clearly having been fucked many times. Indeed when he finally got loose and stood up, it was if he was having a semen bowel movement, poured out of him like a beer keg that just had its bung hole open.

A night or so later Bill stalked into the bar, planted himself in front of the bar tender, stared at him. Aidan, shifted into ‘host mode’ wiped the bar and asked what his pleasure might be. He figured he knew but why not play it the proper way?

“Listen, prick, I wanna know what you did to me that last night, I ended up tied up, fucked and there was no money in it for me.”

“Gee, you giving freebies? that’s worth remembering...”

“I didn’t  give freebies you asshole, someone drugged me, probably you I’m thinking, then some guys took over, fucked me stupid...and I don’t give out freebies.”

“Guess you did, like it or not.”

“Listen you, I know you handed me a drink….”

“Yeah, club soda, mighty hard to slip anything in that...”

“But you did..”

Aidan was a good bartender, made money for his boss and if he turned the occasional trick on the side-part of what made him good behind the bar was tha there was always the chance...he’d find someone interesting, too interesting to resist and...well..Aidan did do freebies, well, so what. The guys that came in the bar liked him, they spent money with him for him, that’s what he cared about. Bill, looking threatening, was just an inconvenience. “Bill, here’s what happened, and you can believe it or not, you sat right where you are now, some new guy, looked a lot like Redford looked  forty years ago, flashed a wad of bills and after a drink or two, the two of you left, where you went, what you did….sorry, I don’t know. Get yourself gang banged? Didn’t happen here so...either order something on which I make a profit or get out. Go find that Redford guy...and, no, I never had seen him….good luck and get out.” Bill stared at the man behind the bar but to no effect. Other customers came up, ordered, Aidan got to work on those leaving Bill staring at himself in a mirror behind the bar; Ordinarily one of the things he most enjoyed was the image of himself, just not then, not with his ass still hurting.

After he left Aidan took a cocktail napkin, scribbled something on it then pasted in on a lower part of the mirror behind the bar. You had to look to see what was written there. “Bill doesn’t do freebies. The management.”

In a move designed to drive Bill crazy, Keith made another appointment with him at the usual grubby bar. In thinking it over, Bill decided that making nice with Keith was to his advantage as, clearly, Keith was the conduit to the fortune-growing ever larger in his mind-so while he couldn’t do cordial, he could try to take the snarl, the demand out of his demeanor. After all, for a rare change, he was the client but also the vendor...he had something to sell but at the same time, they (whoever that might be) had something he wanted.

True to his image, or the one he cultivated just for Bill, Keith pulled up in front in a blast of Harley-Davidson low rider, with ape hangers, exhaust, sauntered in, spotted his, uh, date, moseyed over and sat down. Somewhere between the solid black bandana around his head, the silvered aviator shades, the leather jacket and pants-not to mention two bulges, the second being where most men carry a gun, not their cock, this wasn’t someone Bill expected.

Keith tipped his chair back, slung one booted foot over the opposing knee and, maybe, behind the heavily tinted shades, hard to tell, told him to get him a beer, from a bottle, poured in a mug well chilled, none of that shitty lite, German, have the guy cut the head before he brought it back. Seemed that was the end of the conversation. Inwardly Bill almost burst, no one told him what to do, what did this ass hole think he was? A Waiter? Go fuck him….but then he remembered, this was an ass hole who could spew money.

“Was just gonna get one myself.” As he passed his companion, he felt himself slapped, hard, on his rump with a leather glove.

“Just checking the merchandise.”

Without comment, a beer was placed in front of the gentleman in cowhide...

“Where’s the mug? Didn’t I tell you, get him to cut the foam? Do you know how to take it in your dumpster without instructions?….why anyone would want you...”

He watched as the “waiter” slowly flushed an unattractive shade of red, this was going better than he’d hoped, no mug just added another layer to stick him.

Forgetting German beer, the bottled kind, doesn’t come with pop off caps, Bill, in anger, grabbed the bottle giving the top a twist producing only blood from his hand where the crimping on the lid cut into him.

“Had a tetanus shot lately? Better get one. Fuck only knows what the Krauts put in their metal. Won’t be any good to anyone should you croak on account of some weird poisoning...” He laughed. “See the head lines now, Stud killed by beer cap...everyone would think you tried to open it with your”….he laughed some more… “bung hole.”

Just to gig him, Keith took one of his gloves, the place where there was a metal bar at the wrist for protection in knife fighting, and opened the bottle, paused, then opened the other one. “Drink up, I ain’t got long.”

Bill had passed mad, angry and livid, moved on to taking action. Enough was Enough and he wasn’t going to take it from this messenger boy, started to make a move on him. He found a boot in his solar plexus giving him a shove which knocked him to the end of the floor by the wall on his ass. Taking his advantage, Keith rose, put one boot heel on Bills exaggerated bulge then applied some pressure.

“Just can’t control yourself...okay, one question; Where’s Andy and you better have an answer quick, within 24 hours. Produce him, unharmed, or...won’t be no fuck off, just a fuck over….Got me?” Pulled his boot back, re aimed it then gave him one in his bull nuts using the steel tipped toe, paused then with his heel stomped on where he figured is cock was. Bill rolled to one side into the fetal position as Keith strolled out the door, throwing the bartender a C note, thanked him for his service, got on his bike             rode away, laughing.

Eventually he got up, still almost bent double, staggered, saw the C note, stared at the bartender, took it only said, “You didn’t see anything asswipe. Anything.”

Cal, the guy behind the bar, strolled to where he could see the street, watched Bill, difficult when you’re almost bent double, get in his Corvette but that was as far as he was going. Cal was pleased that when he re-opened the driver’s door on the fancy car, he couldn’t smell what came out of his recent client and was now splattered on the pavement. Bill seemed to be having a Mexican standoff with shifting, finally, sufficiently emptied, he somehow got it into gear and rolled, slowly, on down the road. Cal stuck his head out the door just long enough to see him run the red light at the corner and, Karma!, Bingo, there was a motorcycle cop hot on his ass; No trick to stopping him. Cal figured wrong, he wasn’t empty, had one last urp which nailed the officer’s shiny black boots. When he could contain himself, he picked up a phone with a play by play of recent events; He could hear the sort of cackling men do when not only is something funny….but there’s more than a touch of evil in it.

When he finally got back to his deluxe (paid for by a grateful client) condo, Bill was in it up to his aching cock and nuts which, just then, were laying on top of an ice bag; They hurt but not as much as he thought he’d hurt if  he couldn’t produce Andy. There was a real problem in that not five hours ago he’d have loved to have produced him, black eyes, sprung jaw, nuts made into something like peanut butter but now, he desperately needed the little shit, intact, not a shirt snap undone, not a bruise, pimple, black head, mole that could be blamed on him.

Fear can be a real thing particularly if you know what and who to be afraid of, in this case, that thing was a real person called BJ. He figured he could take Keith, no problem but Keith and BJ (plus who ever else they might bring along…)? The answer was simple, produce Andy but the problem was complicated; He didn’t have him, didn’t know where he was and had no idea who to find who might know….though it was likely they’d laugh in his face, tell him he didn’t give ‘freebies’  and neither did they. A remark that would puzzle him.

What everyone knew was that Bill had zip sense of humor, none. Occasionally this led him into rat holes when he’d tried to pull a really dumb stunt which only got him strange looks. Huh? Even his most enthusiastic of clients knew not to worry about conversation, he knew certain words, commands, actions, and beyond those, he wasn’t being heavily paid to do stand up...unless that figured in what they wanted to do such as bind his wrists, gag him-everyone no matter what they were doing sexual or not, wanted to do that-and hoist him up. From that angle, well, any angle, it could honestly be said he had no bad angles...and no one was more aware of that then….Bill himself. Which was what the guys, Keith thought this stunt up, even better, not only did they have Bill in pain but two ways; Grudgingly it had to be admitted that he wasn’t dumb, just stupid. So stupid he walked into a trap he effectively set for himself; He knew he didn’t have Andy, could have spit in Keith’s face and walked out but….greed grabbed him by his-now oh so painful and swelling cock and balls-and let him forget simple logic. He did not have Andy, was also looking for him plus who gave a fuck what Keith wanted be it beer or a mediocre stud with no real talent.

That’s when he should have walked out, would have enjoyed out running the cop and would even then be getting ready for a banker who was flying in solely for the pleasure of being sucked off by the maestro-so he’d been told-of studs. Well, at least he hadn’t been kicked in the mouth although had the kicker thought of it, he would have done so with pleasure. Also, it would have deprived Cal, who when he wasn’t tending a semi fake bar, worked for Bob, BJ’s Dad, the fun of watching and reporting events almost as they happened. (Cal made a mental note to tell Bob he might want to put in some sort of camera system for future fun and games….which was what the bar was used for.) BJ’s dad, Bob, had quietly made an arrangement with the cops, keep an eye on the place, when it was open, show a badge and beer was a nickel plus a generous contribution to be used in a charity they sponsored. Since the bar was open only sporadically, the guys on the force knew to call and see if their was an answer before dropping by for the cheapest beer-Bob only let Cal pour good brands-anywhere. The reverse, which made the bar so convenient for all, was that the guys in uniform only needed to call, asked that it be open at a certain time, they had a purpose for it; It was open complete with bartender, cold mugs and a certain forgetfulness as to what might, or might not, have happened there.

During the evening, when a banker was wondering what the hell all the hoorah was about in terms of sucking and this aching stud, Bill got a message was sent telling him what time and where to be with Andy at his side. Undamaged. The banker, hoping to get some enthusiasm from his expensive, currently disinterested Stud, gave his balls a tug….People in the next building heard him scream and the banker? Thinking it was what he liked, added some more pressure plus taking his shriveling cock in the other hand hoping to revive some of the pleasure he’d paid to experience. Some days later, speaking with a friend who’d referred him, he suggested that in the future he either test fly the merchandise or keep his referrals to himself.

Andy, of course, had no idea what was up, only that he was wandering around the big house, wondering if he should go visit his son, Johnny, see if he might remember him...he stopped in the middle of the room, tears came down his cheeks-he had never recognized him so to go home now...remorse for whatever his genes had done to his son and remorse for what his jeans had to do to pay for his failure.

Quietly Bob passed the opening, saw the nice guy, whom he genuinely liked, knew the story so understood why he found him as he did.

“Hey Andy, gonna go for a ride to nowhere and the best thing you can take with you is a friend, how about it? Wanna put the big Lincoln past all the red line marks then cruise...?”

Andy looked at the older man, quietly shook his head and started for the door.

“ Best put your boots on...Ford makes a good heater but cold toes tend to stay cold.” Smiled at him. Andy, noticing he wasn’t shod, smiled back, tried to remember where his boots, or anything in the foot wear department was, headed for Bob.

“Meet ya out front, can’t miss it, it’ll be the only car there.”

Bob was a more than proficient drive, couldn’t remember when he didn’t know how to drive and, in spite of his very real, very fine education still cultivated the country look and act. (His son did the same, both with great success. The two of them had hustled more suckers who thought they’d take the rubes but found themselves with almost enough carfare to get across the county line where they’d been told to go.) In the car he was the sort of driver who put the toe of his boot on the accelerator, the thumb and forefinger of his left hand on the steering wheel then stretched his right arm out, to him, solid comfort. At first Andy had been a little startled as the speed increased but, as being with all great drivers, he relaxed knowing he was safe even if telephone poles blurred together.

“You know, this was one of BJ’s favorite things to do long time back, go nowhere; Christ, sometimes we’d end up spending the night two states over.” He smiled, whatever else his son was, he was an affectionate cuss…

“Almost always he’d scoot over an’ be under my arm, then pull his legs up on the seat, lean on me….” He seemed to look...somewhere. “Long time ago.” Andy looked at the man, someone he not only liked but admired.

“Uh, Sir, I know I’m not BJ but….if you wouldn’t mind...I’d like to scoot over an’….” He couldn’t finish it because what he wanted was some comfort that only this sort of intimacy provided. His own father...well...that was a memory best washed away…

“Sure Son, I’d like that myself, get yourself over here….that way you can see what I’m not going to hit as we go on down the road.” Then laughed. So did Andy.

Didn’t take Andy long to work himself into the ‘snuggle’ position, so reminiscent of another man, a long time ago. Bob let his hand fall on the shoulder and slightly pulled him toward him. “Comfortable”?

So Bob would not sense the tears that were almost there, he just nodded. “Good”.

“Andy, something on my mind, something that concerns you and me...”

Well fuck, here it comes, he almost reached down to start undoing his pants but Bob continued…. “I, uh, always wanted three sons...got two now..”

“Two? who’s two?”

“Keith, adopted him not long after he and BJ told me how it was with them. Nice guy, shitty life, worked his way through school, damn that man loves his ink..I wanted him, with or without BJ so I talked it over with him, can’t say he wasn’t taken aback,  but he agreed, now he’s my second son….you’d be my third. Always wanted someone like you, good, nice looking, quiet, honorable...”

Andy ducked his head. “Sir, do you know what I do….”

“Well, hell yes, you fuck men or whatever you do with them, has nothing to do with this, Keith and BJ fuck men….and God knows whatever else but I love ‘em just like I’d like to love you….”

“You know about….Johnny, my son,…?”

“Yep, best part I’d get a grandson, sure not gonna happen with the other two unless I milk ‘em, then artificially inseminate some woman…”

“You know...he’s not right...he’ll never be….” and couldn’t finish it.

“Son, I know all about it, why you do what you do? how you try your best to make it right for him but... you gotta face up to reality. I want for him, he’d be my grandson after all, what you want for him, no institutions, we’d see to it he was always taken care of at home...you’d be my son….one I’d love just like I love the other two...although I do sometimes wonder...BJ can be a handful, I worry all the time he’ll hurt Keith...” A sense of….doom or fear clouded his words.

Andy thought about that, knew he was right; He’d seen BJ out of control a couple of times and it was...frightening. He worried if he’d kill Keith...then in  a fit of unquenchable remorse kill himself…

“You don’t have to make a decision now, or any time soon but… I got the papers all drawn up, just you me, your brothers, quick through the court house...and you’re my Son.”

He hesitated. “I’d still have to support Johnny, couldn’t ask you to...”

The arm around him, drew him closer to the big man… “Well, I appreciate you’d wanna do that, admire you for it but...what if you only had one client?”

Andy didn’t grasp that.

“You know, your Dad might want a hug and a kiss from his son, that’d be payment enough, course, he’d want his love too….”

Bob slowed the car. Saw a place where he could pause without having the Lincoln’s tail feather jammed up its ass by a UPS triple hitch. Moving a little he took Andy into both of his arms, could feel the relaxation in the man who knew his life just got better.

“Mind if I call you...Dad?”

“Son, I don’t care if you call me that old son of a bitch just so long as you do it to my face and you’re smiling.” He pulled the man to his chest, stroked his hair and knew he’d done the right thing for everyone.

Andy put his arms around the big man and, for once in a long time, forgot to worry; He already loved his Dad...and would, well, forever …

The next day a confused Andy was seated in a pickup behind...somewhere with BJ driving, also talking on his phone. As with many people who are easily distracted and have been for some time, BJ no longer had a driver’s license not that was of any concern to him. Just then they were parked-anything, to Andy, that wasn’t moving was good-in an alley that was composed of the backs of small businesses, whatever. The specific door, no name, they were parked by featured a trashcan with the name of a collection company with considerable wrinkles plus creases that gave it an odd stance, much like a woman trying to stand in high heeled shoes from which one heel has broken.

“Okay, here’s what you do, right through that door’s a bar, go to the front, lean on it, don’t sit, just stand there. You might have to wait two minutes, no longer and someone will come in, don’t get startled, just lean against the bar. You’re absolutely safe, promise, l’il bro, do you honestly think we’d let anything happen to you? Hey, this is even easier than picking up tricks who think they’ve already fucked you; Now, go.” He looked at his watch. “Git.”  Andy paused to look at him and got a wink back; Somehow he knew if BJ said he was safe...end of discussion.

It was a bar alright, not one he’d ever been in and, apparently, few others had for it was empty save for the bartender.  Apparently he was expected as there was a  beer in a chilled mug but before he could pick it up, the bartender grabbed his wrist, moved it away, shook his head. Just then Bill came in the door. Not someone Andy wanted to see but, he found, he was stuck to the floor. Bill almost got to him when a biker roared up on the side walk followed , although Bill couldn’t see it, by a pick up truck.

“See you found him, looks okay, come on boy, you got hot a trick to turn.” Keith almost threw him out the front toward the open door of the pickup-BJ again. Andy didn’t think a pickup could accelerate to the point where his head snapped back but also had the effect of closing the door.

“Told ya, l’il bro...nothing to worry about.”

Back in the bar Bill was still somewhere, lost given what just happened...Andy was gone, Keith was staring at him, he had no idea...Keith said, “Thanks, do what you’re told to do, get you into the fuck off quicker..”, then punched him out using the glove with lead shot in the knuckles. As the leather clad man left, Cal looked over the bar and, to be helpful to the man who was flat out, poured the chilled brew on him. Didn’t help.

An hour later when he came to, found himself in an empty, dark bar, doors locked and barred. After trying every way to get out short of busting out a window, he called the cops and, lucky for him, he got the officer on whose boots he’d thrown up. Not only did he get him out of the bar but arrested on several charges some of them, as the cop said, might even be real.

Could have been two in the morning, maybe later, the phone rang. Andy, who came to the quickest, if not the most coherent, answered. Behind him Keith, still plugged by BJ’s big cock even in their sleep, sort of came toward consciousness….while Andy listened. At first he thought it was a joke, someone from the police department was calling to see if, as he’d been told, would come and bail out their prisoner. What prisoner? Andy rolled over and tried to get Keith to come to enough to deal with this one….no one he knew was in jail but maybe some of the guys who worked for Keith...anyway, he was the one to handle this.

Keith took over, fabricated a major coughing spell to cover his laughter, punched BJ in his nuts, told him to wake up and sent Andy off to wake up their Dad,, told him to be quiet and turn on his speaker phone, he was Ab So Fucking Lutely sure he’d want to hear this. Forgetting he wasn’t wearing anything, he shot down the corridor to Bob’s room, shook him awake then delivered the message. Maybe being older helped but he was fully aware, although he didn’t know of what, so in one set of movements, told Andy to get in bed with him, cover up, he didn’t want him to get cold, then hit a button by the sort of telephone console you didn’t see much anymore. Andy crawled over Bob, putting his head on his shoulder while they both listened.

“Officer, ‘pologize for that, allergies...now...mind starting back at the front, I was dead when I answered...”

“Happens all the time at this hour. Uh, our records show that you...or someone, Robert Wilkerson...”

“That’s my Dad, I’m Keith, his son, I can help you...maybe...what’s up...”

“...owns a tavern on, uh 2189 39th Avenue? That sound right?”

“ Yeup, it’s my Dads hobby, prove you can sell booze and lose money...sorry officer..Do you need to speak to him, I’m a part owner….”

“Nah, need to tell you there was an incident there earlier today...some guy was locked in, looked like he’d been clocked a good one...anyways...the arresting officer seemed to think we could hold him on prostitution…? You know anything about that?”

“I think I’m gonna need a name...”

“Oh, shit, sorry, sir, name’s...William Baines….address...well, hell, got it right here...somewhere...no where near there... even says he may know someone who owns it.”

Keith did some quick thinking… “Well shit...sorry officer….that’s the creep who beat up my little brother and, yeah, Cal, the bartender, has thrown him out a coupla times for making offers….Good lookin’ cuss but way down on his luck. Dad some times lets him sleep ‘em off in the storage room. You say he was punched out?”

“So he said, looked it too...smelled like a brewery. How’d he get locked in?”

“Hell, I don’t know but, I’ll talk to my Dad in the morning but for now….there’s the beat down he put on my kid  brother...know you can’t do anything cuz we didn’t report it but the prostitution….Tell you what, I’d sure appreciate a courtesy and well, if you know my dad, Bob Wilkerson….”:

“Old Bob’s your Dad? Well, son, he done more for me and mine, lotta guys here  when, well...tell me what you need ?”

It took a few minutes, had to pause to let the officer laugh, but he got it across, promising at some point in the morning to drop by, probably with his brother, and pick up what the cops were holding for him. Told him, as a courtesy, didn’t think he got cleaned up often, maybe best to give him a hard shower, spray him for lice and, if they would, hold him-think up some charge if they had to. Best see what was in all that fur on his body...then shave it. Whoever he was speaking with said...it would be just like the good old days when cops got their way oh, tell Big Bob...he almost choked, just tell big Bob

Thank You.

At which point Bob turned off the speaker and rolled on his back allowing Andy to put his head on his chest. “Whatever those two are gonna do, I don’t want to hear about it. And you don’t need to either though I spect they’ll rope you in one way or another, brothers always stick...sorry, Andy, forgot…..”

Andy leaned over, kissed the man, “Dad, I think we better get to the court house before you decide you don’t want me, I think being the third son...well,, that’s just something I’d like to be. Okay with you?”

In the dark Bob smiled. “Yep, that’s okay with me. Now, you snuggle in here with me for tonight, God only knows what those two are up to and I don’t want us involved….” He thought for a moment… “Ah, fuck, they’re gonna get us ball deep in this, I know them. Scoot on over here, let me give you a hug and, Andy, I think it’s better if you don’t sleep with them...I’ll work something out in the morning. But now, I don’t even want to know what they’re up to...find out soon enough. Come on, Son, lets get comfortable, get some good shut eye...” Andy wiggled up to the big man, kissed the back of his neck, put his head on a pillow, suddenly was comfortable, went to sleep.

Rather earlier than usual BJ and Keith strolled into their father’s bedroom, not at all surprised to see Andy raise his head from the other side of their Dad. He blinked, big, then again plus punched Bob; There was something to see and Bob, well, he had to see it. Again, being older, he didn’t bother to rise, just opened his eyes, took in the view of his two older sons….

“Well, shit, I don’t want to know, just get the fuck out of here and go do it...Call Cal tell him to open the bar if you’re gonna need that and...whatever else, I gotta say it, I have fine looking sons.

They were, too.

BJ had on an custom tailored double breasted suit, under that a custom made off gray shirt with an English spread collar completed with a pair of gold bow knot cuff links, a Patek Phillippe gold watch plus a Hermes tie not to mention the high gloss Bally of Switzerland dress loafers. His brother was slightly more casual in some tawny colored slacks, Marine Khaki shirt and Marine Khaki Tie, two inch belt, smart looking navy blazer, well shined Montgomery boots completed the outfit. Given the less formal nature of his dress, he only wore a Rolex Oyster on one wrist and, on the other, a three foot cord of gold links that held itself on where a dragon’s mouth held the tail of, presumable the same dragon-as opposed to the steel band on his glove, this was a Chinese wrist covering also useful in knife fighting. If you knew where to look, each man had two nice bulges, ones that didn’t just suggest but howled they were MEN and the other that they were armed men-a concealed carry state and they had all the permits. BJ, who admired forged weaponry, had a  thin stiletto knife that formed part of the exquisitely cut collar on his suit coat.

“Hey Dad, l’il bro, we’re gonna make a collection...wanna come? Plenty of time, make a fresh pot, mind if we take the Lincoln?”

“Should I order a new one now or see if the damage you idiots are going to do can be fixed.”

“Fuck, all we’re going to do is drop by the slammer and get an old buddy out ….”

“Yeah, sure you are, and I’m Little Bo Peep. By the way, since we’re having legal day, I’m taking Andy to court to make him officially your brother, sure hate for his first day, having to visit you behind glass talking on a phone...”

That set off the two men standing, reached over, hauled him out of bed, tossed him in the air… “Gotta get you properly initiated later….you know we love ya...here,” BJ tossed him back in bed with his Dad, “Go get him brothered  up and we’ll take care of business.”

Looking more like regulators from the New York Stock Exchange, they ambled out of the room for no reason slamming the door, hard, as they left.

“As you wander around, you may notice not many jambs have doors, got sick and tired of replacing them; If you find a door it’s probably leads to a can or a closet...or my room.”

Andy was still in a state of confusion. “What are they gonna do?”

“Fuck, I don’t know….get Bill, that’s for sure, but after that, wouldn’t surprise me if they put an apple on his head and tried to shoot it off with a bazooka. C’mon son, lets you and me get ready for the day, show you the bathroom you’ll share with me, your bedroom in on the other side...” Without saying it and didn’t want to explain it, he knew how hard BJ and Keith could and did play.

He knew they would never hurt their new brother-they’d seen the mess he was in at the hospital after Bill finished with him-he still had a scar or two that would never go away. Besides, he felt his relationship to Andy was going to be more something he’d wanted...not that BJ wasn’t a helluva son, Keith too, but...this young man wasn’t going to blow up, create mayhem, tear up whatever and….Bob shuddered….the thing that inwardly terrified him-and it was why he was going to keep Andy close to him-was BJ’s madness. He knew, beyond question, he would never hurt anyone-well, excepting Bill-to the degree that he had….intentionally. That’s why Keith did not live with him for a very long time, love him though he did; He was flat out afraid of what might happen….

Something...almost touching materialized ; Reality can hold more truth, more meaning.... He was in his bathroom, after his shower, getting ready to shave when Andy popped in, also showered needing to shave but lacked the tools. Why he did it...Both of them naked but he put Andy on a stool in front of the big basin and as a father would teach his young son the first elements of a man and his rituals, got a brush full of shaving foam then started to cover his face. Taking Andy’s hand, the two of them held the straight razor as he showed his son how to do a man’s shave, noticing how proud his new stud was...good thing the mirror fogged up...neither could see the few tears that were actually bonding them.

Before leaving for the courthouse, Bob rang the sales guy at the Lincoln dealership, put him on danger money that he might need another car, like the last one unless the model year had changed.

“What? Again? What’d they do this time?”

“Fuck, who knows and it hasn’t happened, I’m just planning ahead.”

Puzzled but not willing to turn down a sure sale, Jerry said, okay, whenever he wanted it, let him know, they’d pick up the remains of the old one then leave the new one out front. “Keys under the mat as usual? Oh, hey, if they’re not ruined, wanna keep the tires as spares?”

“Yep.” Then put one arm around his soon to be son’s shoulder and started out to see what was left for them that was drivable.

The desk sergeant had been told to expect two men to make a collection as well as to expect there could be trouble; Over the night their prisoner had been treated as per instructions, was now clean, lice free, and sported an all over body crew cut. The latter had taken four burly guys who normally worked in the jail house but were needed for this. As Bill wasn’t ever going to learn, you can always make a situation worse which is pretty much what he’d done. Having annoyed the piss out of the officers, and having been told not to worry too much about how he was treated, they’d fought back. The shiner Keith hung on him the previous day now had a twin, plus various bruises that were destined to run the color spectrum over the next several weeks. Having proved he was, oh what the hell they decided, a flight risk, they had him as secured as possible, not just cuffs, but the sort with no chain between the two sides, ditto manacled ankles, a very wide leather belt around his mid section provided a latching point for the cuffs as well as for the chains that came up from his ankles. Just to get the point across, he was attached to a metal chair with additional chain, padlocks, four more sets of cuffs and, as they’d grown tired of his yelling, a gag reserved for only the most spirited of prisoners; This one had a large, hard leather cock on the inside that almost went to the back of his throat. Too late someone thought up a straight jacket. The balance of Bills evening was spent in a darkened room, the chair attached to brackets on the wall. Periodically, and to make sure he didn’t dehydrate,  the door would be opened and a spray of  icedwater would ‘refresh’ him. That’s how he was when the guys made application for him at the front desk.

It was Keith who was led back to ‘view’ the prisoner, he’d been the one to start the deal and, whatever Bill’s mood, he was the one who either finished it or….maybe there was a plan B.

“You look like shit, who hung the other one on you? Matched set, looks good, gotta say, the hairless look….well...it’s different.” He pulled up a chair and, remembering a move from the movies, swung it around so he was sitting backwards, the swirl of the back providing him with a place to cross his arms.

“Guess you know why I’m here….figured after this rodeo, didn’t need a fuck off, get some statements from the guys here and that’ll do, do nicely. So….” He reached into his jacket, pulled out a sheaf of papers all of which were covered by a blue binder, the sort used to hold legal documents; He held them just where Bill could see them but, as they weren’t opened, couldn’t see the contents.

“Best place to start with you is the cash, we see this as a kinda rent to own deal, first down payment, for the first year is one point five million U.S. Dollars, you’ll be given it when you show up to work which, what the hell, might as well be later today. That’s the part that interests you but, listen to me, stud, there are conditions and you better know them. Forget one, tough, you agreed and whatever it is will be done to or for or about you….Up front, you don’t get your cock and balls whacked off….personally, I argued  against that one, thought it might calm you but...the purchaser wants you intact. Okay, nod if you agree and understand so far….”

Bill had lost track and interest after the money was disclosed, would have let them whack off his nuts, one at a time if they wanted, but that money...all that money.

Keith went on about some other things, modifications, some of which he would be paid to have done, some not, it was all spelled out. Watching the idiot, he could have specified anything, imagine later what he’d said would happen, Bill didn’t give a shit, he was the man who got what he wanted and never more than right now. It took another ten, twelve minutes of boring legal crap but, as he was in no position to stand up and walk away, he sat and divided all the money into fives, tens, twenties, hundreds...and that was the first year. Heard something about incremental payments but he knew BJ, had to  be BJ, he’d get bored in six months then he’d walk away, lost interest.

“That’s it. Got any questions, want a lawyer to look it over?” He had a guard remove the gag.

“Where do I sign?”

“You don’t, you lick, that gets your DNA which is irrefutable, never can say you didn’t sign it, didn’t have it explained to you, better than a signature.” He held a piece of paper out that had a blank spot with Bill’s name underneath. That tongue that had pleased so many ran out, swiped at the paper and went back not even concealing the smirk that money always brought him.

As guarantors of his signature, both Keith and one of the cops licked as well then signed their names below.

“Okay, sport, only thing left is to get you out of here and on to your new home, we’ve been working on it for you….You’ll meet your new, uh, lease holder out there….” He looked for the guy holding the gag. “Mind putting that back in? He bites.” It was no problem, Bill was left where he was, door was closed and...whatever lay ahead of him, apart from the money, he’d find out.

“Okay, hope you have the cash ‘cuz that’s all he wants to see, after that, he’s not going to give a damn.”

“Good, guess our first job is to make sure he does give a damn...and real quick. Okay, bro, next, lets go find Dad and Andy, hope you’re as pleased about having another brother….”

“Yeah, I am. But...BJ, you cannot play rough with him...he’s been through a lot more than you’d do but..you know you….”

Avoiding the topic, he told his concerned sibling that he was thinking about setting up a cops night only, some of the guys had heard about the tag team fights in the basement, seemed real interested. Keith looked into the ether, he just wondered if he’d heard one fucking word about Andy. He’d talk to Dad….see what he thought.

Both of them forgot about Bill, he sure had what he wanted but...he forgot this part….they had him. BJ thought... leaving him locked up in jail for a few days would give him some appreciation when he was let out...in so far as he was going to be let out.

It was in a great mood that the two guys hopped in the car not noticing that, while they were inside it was trash collection day which meant that there was a full dumpster behind the Lincoln. Good thing they weren’t going too fast., had their seat belts on and didn’t tense sensing the crash.

Although he didn’t know it, Jerry, the car dealer, would have been well served to start prepping the new car for delivery. He’d find out, could hardly wait to hear from Bob but that lay an hour or two in the future….It was also a good thing that, as had been considered, Bill hadn’t been cuffed, stuffed, bound and put in the trunk.

Back in the station, one of the EMTs applied some bandaids, checked for major problems while BJ had to listen to his buddies in the station, who were all well aware of his driving record, cawed with laughter, offered to take him home, cuffed, in one of their cages. Keith, who would have a good looking black eye, just stared at the wall and told himself it was an awfully good thing he loved his brother for right then he would have beat the shit out of him….he also figured he knew who’d get to tell Dad. Moments like this, BJ played ‘ghost’ as well as anyone….

Unaware that he’d just bought a new car, Bob and Andy were doing the whip round of the courts where papers needed to be signed, filed, made official for Andy to be the third son. Only on issue did he ask Bob to let him do something….Bob couldn’t think what but acquiesced, Andy wasn't the type to ask much.

“Dad, now that you almost are...could you let me have your name, Johnny, too…? Please and...I’ll understand if you don’t, I’m just a two bit whore….”

Bob grabbed him…. “Yeah, but you’re my two bit whore and you can have my name, you and Johnny, you’re making me a proud man.” They had to retrace some steps to get that change made, Bob never taking his arm from around Andy’s shoulder. Papers signed, Andy was now a Wilkerson...only thing to do was go find the rest of the family.

When they drove up and saw the new Lincoln Bob had a sinking feeling, one, not so bad, he owned a new car and two, which of his other two sons were going to explain this one; His money was on Keith who usually stood in for BJ when things like this happened. Not that he wouldn’t have like to have kicked his oldest in his nuts but, for now, he’d hear what happened. As with many explanations it started out…. “Well, you see...”

“Where’d you get the black eye?”

“Uh, hit a window shade… Dad...how pissed are you?”

“Let me guess who was driving...”

Keith didn’t answer, not that he needed to.

To try and break it up, Andy stepped forth and hugged Keith, saying he wanted to know how much he loved his brother.

Almost without much enthusiasm, lost in the current mess BJ had made with his Dad, Keith hugged him back, mumbled something then walked away….

Bob and Andy stood there, silent, only thing bright and shiny was the new car. “Son, I’m sorry, this...just didn’t play out the way I thought...I know they’ll come around.”

“Sure, of course they will” And threw himself on his father. “ Maybe.”

Bob tried to remember just that morning when they’d tossed him in the air, promised him an initiation into the family….offering to take him inside now and offering him a beer or a drink….didn’t seem very celebratory….

Now and again, why wait, for him to thoroughly piss off a group of twenty who would dismember BJ, he’d do it himself. Also, there was no other explanation, Keith had called the Lincoln place….but all of that paled compared to the slight that had just been handed to their new  brother, from uproarious welcome some hours earlier to being as enthusiastic as discovering the Fuller Brush Man had been there and left a catalog. All he could do was hold his son who, with every reason, was almost emotionless, the deep disappointment almost palpable.

In a dark cell at the jail Bill had a visitor, man in a white uniform carrying a towel filled tray. Bill looked at him, looked at the tray, looked up. The gag prevented questioning but the man figured it out.

Taking the first syringe out, injecting him in the vein at the crook of his elbow, “Some guy said he wanted you to be his bitch….these’ll just help that along.” Stuck him twice more and left. A smarter man would have guessed but, fuck, for a million and a half, they could make a pin cushion out of his butt.

Bill, internally, triumphant, as usually he was getting what he wanted...and then some.