“Nicholas!” he called out, grabbing my attention and waving me over.
What do I do? I thought. With Greg’s personality, he’ll chase me down the block if I ignore him. But I can’t tell them what’s happened, and I can’t waste too much time talking to them.
I quickly crossed the street, barely dodging a car as the driver angrily honked their horn at me. I turned to wave an apology but only receive a middle finger from the driver in response. I wanted to apologize, but he sped past me in a hurry.
“Where are you going?” Greg asked inquisitively as I approached the two of them.
“I’m just in a hurry,” I replied, feeling tempted to take the cigarette from Allen’s hands and have a drag.
I had given up smoking years before, and I knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to start back now. Still, as I watched Allen’s lips pull and tug on the cigarette, I could barely contain myself.
“Well?” Greg asked, resting his hand on his hip. “Where are you going?”
“I just need to get somewhere quickly,” I said, turning as if I was going to walk away.
Greg reached out and grabbed my arm as he asked with a grin, “Clint? Are you rushing off to see your boyfriend?”
“Guys,” I said, addressing both of them even though Allen hadn’t said anything. “I really have to go, there’s a problem that needs to be taken care of.”
As soon as I spoke the words, I immediately regretted them. I knew I shouldn’t have given any indication that there was a problem, because Greg quickly jumped on it and wouldn’t let go.
“What kind of problem?” he asked curiously, looking me up and down.
“Just something that I can’t really…”
“Can’t really what?” Allen asked, finally chiming in.
“I can’t really tell you right now…I mean, it’s not safe…”
“What?” Greg asked, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. “I feel like I’m in a horror movie right now. Here we were, just having a quick smoke break, and you’re running down the sidewalk like a madman talking about your safety. What the hell is going on?”
“Okay,” I said, “I’m going to tell you…quickly…what’s happening; but you can’t tell our owner. Okay?”
“Okay,” they both said in unison, breathlessly waiting for me to tell them what was going on.
“I just went home and found Kenneth in my apartment,” I said, taking a deep breath before adding, “he had hidden a camera behind a picture frame in my living room.”
“Are you serious right now?” Greg asked, his mouth slowly opening in shock.
“Yes,” I replied. “I couldn’t possibly make this up. I don’t know if the camera had been there for a while, or if he was just placing it, but either way…I think he might be the one who started the fire.”
“The creepy guy who always comes in and asks for you?” Allen asked, taking another drag of his cigarette.
“That’s the one,” Greg answered for me, turning to pull the cigarette out of Allen’s mouth so he could take a drag of it. “I knew that guy was trouble the first time I saw him.”
“That’s not all,” I said, turning to look behind me to make sure no one was watching. “I was only stopping by my apartment to get my overnight bag because Clint wanted me to stay the night with him.”
“Oh my gosh!” Greg exclaimed, his face lighting up. “Does this mean that you two…I mean, does this mean that he broke up with his girlfriend?”
“Greg!” I replied. “It’s not the time to talk about that!”
Still, I couldn’t resist adding, “But yes, he did break up with her.”
Greg smiled his trademark sassy grin, but I wasn’t deterred from telling the rest of the story.
“I called Clint when I noticed that Kenneth was in my apartment, and now Clint’s going over to his place, and I think he’s going to hurt him.”
“He’s going to Kenneth’s place?” Allen asked, yanking the cigarette out of Greg’s mouth and reclaiming it as his own. “How does Clint know where Kenneth lives?”
“Guys,” I said, exasperated, “it’s not the time to talk about that. Clint told me not to call the cops, but I don’t want him to go over and hurt Kenneth; he’ll end up getting arrested.”
“Sounds to me,” Greg replied, “that getting hurt is exactly what this Kenneth guy needs.”
18
Running down the sidewalk, block after block, I frantically tried to make it to Kenneth’s building before Clint arrived. Finally, ahead in the distance, I noticed 118 East 8th Street. The front door of the building was open, which was unusual considering most New Yorkers are paranoid about leaving the doors to their building open.
Clint’s already in there, I thought. The damage is already done, and now Clint’s going to be in legal trouble.
Rushing up to the building, I stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up toward the sixth floor to see if I could notice anything.
Apartment 6A, I thought, searching for lights on the sixth floor. Is that in the front or the back of the building?
Walking up to the front door, I stood at the entrance, waiting to see if anyone would come up or down the stairs. Behind me, a couple pushed their way past to walk into the building, disappearing up the stairs and leaving the doors wide open.
I wanted to call out Clint’s name, to scream it up toward the sixth floor to see if he was up there, but I didn’t want to tip off Kenneth that we had arrived. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and attempted to call Clint again. Still, there was no answer, and I began to imagine the worst.
Deciding to be a little braver, I walked through the doors and began to ascend the stairs towards the sixth floor. I don’t know why I decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator, but there was something I didn’t like about the idea of being trapped in an enclosed space in Kenneth’s building.
Arriving on the landing of the second floor, I passed a young woman who was walking down the stairs. We made eye contact, and she looked at me nervously, obviously wondering why I was frantically – yet cautiously – making my way up the stairs. Checking every nook and corner, I moved past her and made my way toward the third floor.
I heard the young woman calling after me, asking if I lived in the building.
It’s none of your business, I thought, ignoring her words and focusing on making my way higher. Looking down at my phone, I checked anxiously to see if Clint had at least sent me a text message to let me know what was happening.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I made it to the sixth floor. Before me was apartment 6A, Kenneth’s home and a place from my nightmares. I cautiously approached the door, waiting to hear anything going on inside and wondering what was happening on the other side of the door.
I turned back to face the stairs, making sure that no one was approaching, and before I could turn back, I heard a loud thud coming from inside apartment 6A. Stepping back, I gasped and held my breath, waiting to see if the door would fly open and reveal Kenneth on the other side.
Through the door, I finally heard a muffled voice shouting, “You sick piece of shit!”
It was Clint’s voice, and I had never been more grateful to hear it in my life. I walked directly up to the door, and turned the knob before pushing the door open. Kenneth was on his back on the floor with Clint on top of him, his fists flying down in an angry rage as Kenneth attempted to block his face.
“Clint!” I shouted, rushing over to stop him.
Looking down at Kenneth, I could see that the damage was already done. There was a small stream of blood trickling out of his nose, and I could immediately see that it was broken. As I tried my best to stop Clint from hurting him, I couldn’t help but allow a smile to spread across my face at the reality of Kenneth receiving what he deserved.
Grabbing Clint’s hand, I pulled it back so that he couldn’t hit Kenneth again. I pulled him off and tried to calm him down, but there was a fire in Clint’s eyes that
I had never seen before. I knew in that moment that his actions weren’t just about harming Kenneth, they were the culmination of all the frustration that had arisen from my time with Clint.
Jumping into his perspective for a moment, I could easily understand the anger and annoyance of Clint finally being free from Kelly to pursue me, yet facing another roadblock because of Kenneth. Looking down at Kenneth, I began to take pity on him. He looked defeated and pathetic.
Clint huffed and said, “I’m not finished.”
As he tried to jump back on top of Kenneth, I pulled him back as hard as I could. We were both equally strong, so it was a struggle, but I successfully pulled him into a different corner of the room.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I said with a smile, noticing a small drop of Kenneth’s blood on Clint’s fist.
Just beside us in the kitchen was a roll of paper towels, and I pulled one off to wipe the blood away from Clint’s skin. Looking into his angry eyes, I noticed a primal side of Clint that I hadn’t seen before and, inexplicably, I wanted him more than I ever had. Standing there, holding his bulging biceps as I tried to prevent him from taking another swing at Kenneth, I knew that I wanted to be alone with him.
“He’s a piece of shit,” Clint said, spitting in the general direction of Kenneth, although his spit didn’t quite make it that far.
“He can call the police on you now,” I replied as the seriousness of the situation dawned on me. “He can have you arrested for assault.”
“Is that what you want?” Clint asked, attempting to move closer to Kenneth once again.
I pulled him back, grasping onto his shirt with one hand and keeping my arm on his bicep with the other. Kenneth shook his head to indicate that he didn’t want to have Clint arrested. Looking down at Kenneth, my stomach churned as I was disgusted by him.
“How long was the camera in my apartment?” I asked Kenneth, knowing that he could easily lie to me.
“I was attempting to place it there,” Kenneth replied sheepishly, looking up at me from the floor while he dabbed his bloody nose with his finger. “You showed up before I could finish. I promise it wasn’t there before.”
“Why should he believe you?” Clint asked incredulously. “Why should either of us believe anything you have to say?”
“I can assure you,” Kenneth replied, “that the camera was not there beforehand.”
“And the fire?” I asked, looking down at him in disgust. “What about the fire that ruined my neighbor’s apartment?”
Kenneth quickly looked away, and I immediately knew that he had something to do with it.
“How could you do that?” I asked. “How could you intentionally and deliberately attempt to harm another person?”
“I wasn’t trying to harm you,” he replied, still looking in the opposite direction as he obviously couldn’t face me.
“Then what were you trying to do?” I asked. “Prove a point? That you’re too pathetic to handle rejection from someone you don’t know? You’re disgusting!”
Clint chimed in and said, “I don’t think he deserves your words or your attention. Call the police.”
Turning to look at Clint, I replied, “If I call them, they’re going to arrest you for assault.”
Clint attempted to spit in Kenneth’s direction again before asking, “Are you going to rat me out for hitting you? You got what you deserved!”
Turning back to face Kenneth, I said, “I’m going to call the police and tell them you started the fire. They’re going to investigate it and they’ll figure out what happened whether you tell them or not.”
Kenneth didn’t reply, and his lack of courage to even answer me was appalling.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” I asked. “You’re going to go to prison for a long time. Arson is a major crime, as is breaking and entering, and hiding a camera in someone’s home.”
“It wasn’t there before,” Kenneth replied, as if that made it any better.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “That’s not going to matter to the police.”
Thinking about it for another moment, I realized that I might be able to prevent Clint from being arrested. If I could appeal to Kenneth’s sensible side, I thought we might have a chance to save Clint the embarrassment.
“Look,” I said to Kenneth. “I’m going to call the police right now and tell them you’re responsible for the fire. They’re going to come by and question you, and you’re going to go to jail for a long time. However, I’ll agree not to tell them about the camera if you’ll agree not to tell them about Clint.”
Clint shifted his weight and said, “Let him! Let him tell the cops I hit him! I want them to know!”
Turning to look at Clint, I asked, “Do you want to go to jail? Do you want to sit in a jail cell, pay bond to get out, and then have court appointments and sentencing?”
Leaning in, I whispered in Clint’s ear, “You broke into his home and assaulted him; you’re looking at breaking and entering charges, plus possible felony charges for how badly you beat him.”
I could see that Clint was considering what I was saying, as he was smart enough to know that he was in a bad situation. His primal temper had gotten the best of him, but I knew that we might be able to talk our way out of it.
Turning back to look down at Kenneth on the floor, I asked, “What do you say?”
Kenneth nodded his head and replied, “That’s fine.”
Pulling out my phone, I quickly dialed 911 and told the dispatcher that I had information on the person who might have started the fire in my building. As we stood there, Clint glaring at Kenneth and seeming like he might pounce at any moment, I was connected to the fire department and the main investigator for the case.
Over the next few minutes, as Kenneth lay bruised and bloodied on the floor, the investigator listened as I told him about Kenneth’s presence in my building the night of the fire, and how I had watched as he rushed out of my building and disappeared around the corner. The investigator asked if I had the home address for Kenneth, and I happily told him that I did.
Hanging up the call, Clint and I turned to walk out of the apartment. I watched Clint’s every move, nervous that he might attempt to attack Kenneth again, but finally realizing that he had let go of the situation and moved on. Walking down the stairs toward the street, Clint let out a heavy sigh and I knew that he had calmed down.
Still, I couldn’t resist the temptation to stop in the hallway and have my way with Clint. I had been longing for him since the first moment I laid eyes on him, and the aggressive side of him I had seen that day would not quickly be forgotten.
“Clint,” I said, leaning in and whispering in his ear so that no one else in the apartment building would hear, “I’ve never seen you like that. You were so aggressive.”
“I was pissed,” Clint said quickly through clenched teeth, indicating that he was still angry and amped up.
“I liked it,” I said with a smile, causing Clint to look over at me. “Let’s go back to your place.”
Clint smiled and I knew that we were on the same page.
“Do you think the cops will come for him?” Clint asked as we finally made our way through the front doors of the building and out onto the street.
“Yes,” I replied. “The investigator said he was going to come over and speak with him right away, but I didn’t want to tell Kenneth that as I didn’t want him to make a run for it.”
“So,” Clint replied with a devilish grin, “back to my place?”
19
Clint fell back onto his bed, his dark masculine voice booming as he said, “Come here.”
Since I had first met him, I had wondered what this moment would be like. I had closed my eyes and pictured him with the countless girls I assumed that he had been with over the years and wondered how he would react to being with a guy.
I’m about to find out, I thought, my heart skipping a beat as my breath caught in my throat.
Gazin
g up at me, Clint could see that I was nervous, a devious smile spread across his face as he seemed to be communicating silently with his eyes.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, knowing very well what the matter was.
We were in the moment of truth, the culmination of time spent longing for each other, and I was nervous that one of us might disappoint the other.
“I just…” I began, but my voice quickly trailed off. “I know I’m the first guy you’ve…”
Realizing that I couldn’t finish my thought, he replied, “And? You don’t think I’ll be up for it?”
Gesturing toward his jeans which were quickly tightening around his covered cock, I could see that he was indeed up for it.
“Do you need a little extra convincing?” he asked, pushing himself up from the bed and slowly walking toward me. “Because I can provide that.”
“We’ve waited so long…” I said, but before I could finish he was standing before me, placing his hand over my mouth to silence me.
“Let’s not wait any longer,” he said, leaning in as he slowly pulled his hand away from my mouth.
His lips pressed against mine, claiming them as his own and pulling them perfectly into place with his, causing me to eagerly melt into him, my legs almost buckling. His tongue slipped between my parted lips as his arms reached up and slipped onto my shoulders, his hand curling around the back of my neck. His thumb caressed the tender skin behind my ear, finding the one erogenous zone that usually drove me crazy and caused my cock to swell. Our tongues dueled together, tasting each other, my breath catching at how sensual it was. Clint pulled me closer until I could feel his rock-hard cock bulging behind his jeans.
“What have you wanted?” Clint asked as he pulled back from the kiss and looked into my eyes. “Tell me what you wanted the first time you saw me.”
“I think you know what I wanted, and –” I began, but he interrupted me by covering my mouth again.
Each move he made was more dominant than the last, and I began to wonder which direction this would go in. I had always been the more aggressive, cocky, assertive guy with the customers at The Warehouse, but it seemed like Clint had a mind of his own. I wondered if his lack of experience with guys would lead to him wanting to be in total control all the time.
The Warehouse Page 16