by Jayce, Aven
“Free your mind. It’s the only way to last in this world.”
He lifts his legs and leans back, his hands flap in the water like a bird learning to fly. His actions slow and his hands gradually change to circular movements under the water. He places his head further back and starts to float, with eyes closed as Natalie suggested. She places her arm under his back and guides him around the pool, allowing him more freedom to enjoy the quiet moment. He sighs and relaxes, finally able to breathe.
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Nat. I need one of these.”
“A pool?”
“Yes, a pool. And a guide. Someone to kick my ass sometimes so I leave my comfort zone.”
“Ha,” she laughs. “You don’t have a comfort zone, my dear. That’s one of your biggest problems.”
“Well, maybe I just found one. If my parents had one of these, and Paul and Dayne weren’t around, I’d probably never leave it.”
“God you’re so freakin’ sensitive all the time. It’s not THAT good. I just want to teach you how to let go of your worries and all those conflicting thoughts that race around in your head.”
“No, Natalie,” he says, placing his feet back on the floor of the pool. “It is that good. For a few minutes I didn’t see Paul’s God awful face when I closed my eyes.”
“Star!” Paul’s voice pierces their ears. He leans against the doorframe of the sliding glass doors, hands in his pockets, looking down at the scene. “Both of you, get your asses in here, now. Star, dry off, and look presentable, and make it quick. It’s time.” He slides the doors shut and walks away, leaving only the sounds of the cicadas singing in the trees.
Cove shakes and feels anxious. Knots form and twist in his stomach.
“You need a drink.”
“Yeah, I do. I’ll get one before I head back into one of those rooms. He’s probably pissed that my skin smells like chlorine.”
“We both smell of chlorine,” she says, as they walk up the ladder and out of the water.
“Why did you make me get in the pool again?” Cove teases, trying to make light of the situation.
“Pussy.”
“Don’t call me that, you bitch,” he smiles. “I wonder who’ll take your place?”
“Don’t know. Someone hot I’m sure. Maybe it’s that new blonde that Dayne’s with, or maybe you’ll just continue on with those single live-cams you just started.”
“How’d you know about those things?”
“I’ve watched you.”
“What? Why? Don’t you get enough of me already?” Cove jokes as he buttons his shirt and smooth’s his hair.
“Well, actually Paul had me watch one so that I could do the same. He said you’re good. I guess he wanted to show you off.”
“Errhg. Don’t tell me anything else. He’s such a pervert.”
“He’s a pedophile, not a pervert.”
“He’s never touched me.”
“But he likes to watch.”
“No, he’s never watched me either, at least not that I’m aware of. The only thing he watches is his bank account,” he responds, zipping his pants.
“Star and Natalie, come on. Now!” Paul yells, standing at the door again. “I feel like I’m fucking babysitting.”
Cove picks up his shoes and walks quickly over to Paul as Natalie follows, still topless.
“What the fuck. Enough of this shit. Get inside and head over to the dining room. The two of you are dessert. Put on a nice show for the clients gathered around that table, and make it good.”
“What, like a strip tease?” Cove asks. “They’re in Vegas, they can go to a club and watch a strip show any hour of the day. This is one of your lamest parties yet.”
Natalie scurries past Paul as Cove approaches the door. Paul places a hand on Cove’s chest and stops him from entering the room. “Natalie, get started please. There are two others’ in there already. Star will join the three of you in a moment.”
Natalie walks through the main room and down a hall toward the dining area. There’s a loud cheer when she reaches the room. Paul smiles, then turns back to Cove, his expression quickly changed to that of anger and hatred.
He takes Cove’s arm and bends it behind his back, using his body to force Cove against the stone exterior wall of the house. Paul’s arm is pressed across Cove’s shoulder blades and he can’t move. “God, I’d love to bash your face into this stone. What’s with the fucking attitude this evening? When I let go of you, you’ll keep your mouth shut and walk into that dining room. Be nice to these people, do you understand?”
“If you despise me so much, why don’t you just let me go like Natalie?”
“If you didn’t have such a hold on my company, I would. Your face and body bring in a quarter of my yearly profits. But don’t worry; you’ll get your wish someday. You can’t be young and full of cum forever, right?” Paul seethes.
Cove drops his shoes and tries to back away, only to have his arm pulled higher against his back. His eyes wince in pain, but he doesn’t give Paul the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. He knows he would never leave a mark where anyone would see it, not if he wants to make money. He relaxes and places his forehead against the cool wall, surrendering to the industry.
“Good boy,” Paul whispers. “We’re both too old for this shit. I know you’re sixteen and trying to sound like a tough guy so I’ll go a little easy on you. I remember that age. But someday you’ll stop being such a fuck. Right?”
“Yes,” Cove replies in a soft voice.
“I love you like a son, Cove. And you need to respect me like a father. You know what I want to hear.”
“I’m sorry, Paul,” he whispers. “You own me.”
He releases him and brushes off the back of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Leave your shoes out here.”
Paul places his hand on Cove’s back and walks him into the house. He steers him toward the dining room at the far end of the house. Cove can already hear boisterous voices and laughter from within. It sounds like a drunken rodeo. Paul hesitates for a moment then walks to a side table, opening a large drawer full of sex toys, magazines, condoms, and hoods.
“I need you to put this on,” he says, tossing Cove a leather wolf hood.
“Well, this is new. Since when do we dress up?”
“Star, look at me,” Paul says in a serious tone. “The other NOVA stars are in private rooms, and my other employees have their jobs to do as well. This dinner party arrived through the kitchen and they’ll be confined to that end of the house, away from my clients upstairs and in the massage rooms. I need you to wear this, and don’t take it off, and don’t let anyone else take it off either. Your prey is already in there. Catch them, devour and consume them, and then leave. There’s a large opening for your mouth, but the rest of the hood is private. It might be a little hard to see, but do your best, and ignore any faces that you do see. Stick to the task at hand. The Rosens paid a lot for this, and Dayne and Doron both insisted your young muscular body would be the best for it.”
“Wait a second,” Cove interrupts. “What sort of party is this?”
“Here take a drink,” Paul says, pouring him a shot of whiskey. Cove throws it back and holds the glass out requesting a second. “Alright then, have two,” Paul grins. He downs the drink and puts on the hood, buckling the two straps around the neck.
“To answer your question, it’s a bachelorette party, for Lydia Rosen.”
“Paul,” Cove objects and tries to unbuckle the hood. Paul takes his hands and grips them tightly. “My mother’s there?” Cove asks.
“She won’t recognize you. The room is full of Lydia’s former sorority sisters. You won’t know anyone else except for your mother, Lydia, and Devery.”
“Get serious, Paul. What mother wouldn’t recognize her own son?”
“They’re all plastered for one. You heard the cheers and you can hear the laughter. I can’t see your eyes or face, which means they can’t s
ee them either. Just do your thing and come back out. Fifteen minutes, tops. Do what you’re told, and do it now.” Paul unbuttons Cove’s shirt, slides it off, and throws it over one of the chairs in the room. “You’ll only need your black pants on for this. You’re the dark wolf.”
“God, and I’m supposed to be the kid, right?” Cove says, walking away from Paul, wishing he could give him the finger without any punishments. “I guess this would be considered the opposite of dressing ‘a wolf in sheep’s clothing,’ right?” he says under his breath.
Cove walks down the dimly lit hall of Paul’s mansion. The floors are a dark wide plank wood and the walls are covered with lavishly patterned brown and gold wallpaper. A mirror hangs at the end of the hall with the door to the dining room to its left. He watches his reflection in the mirror as he approaches the room, dawdling in the darkness, deliberately running his fingers over the walls as he walks. He stops just a few feet before the doorway and listens to the screams of joy and amusement. He exhales and flexes his muscles. Paul makes him lift weights, and he’s starting to have the body of a man. Soon, he’ll be too old for NOVA as well, then what? More evenings like this one? Or nothing at all?
He grunts and growls, starting to breathe like an animal for the show. He can be a wolf. He can do this. His hands reach for his pants and he unbuttons the top, allowing the hair on his lower abdomen to show. He’s ready. He exhales and takes a deep breath. His nostrils flare under the hood.
Paul can hear the women scream and applaud as Cove enters the room. There’s laughter and cheers. He paces, alone in his house full of beasts. He steps out into the backyard, lights a cigar, and takes out his cell to call Doron.
“Doron, about a half hour. Tell Cove to come in on the office side to pick up his son. His wife’s still on the other end with Dev.” He hangs up and puffs on the cigar, rolling his brown dress pants above his knees, then sits next to the pool. He moves his feet in circles around the water while he blows smoke into the night sky. His eyes follow the smoke into the darkness, focusing on the stars that appear behind the dispersing swirls.
“Hmm. I haven’t looked up in years. Not since…” he whispers, thinking back to nights in the backyard of the farm house he bought for his wife and children. Mark and Sophia loved to gaze at the clouds during the day and watch the stars twinkle at night. He remembers the last time he saw the two of them. In the morning he walked Mark to the end of the road and made sure he was safely on the school bus, then after lunch he placed Sophia down for a nap. He left right after, never saying goodbye to either one. It was easier that way. He takes his cell out again and looks for a number, pauses, then puts it back in his pocket. “Fuck. Fucking wife. She ruined my dreams and my home, took the money that I’d saved for years. Fucking whore.”
He shakes his head and places his cigar on the edge of the pool, pulling the cell hastily back out. He dials the number and waits; stretching his legs rigidly out in the water.
“Elizabeth.”
“Don’t freaking call this house, Paul. I’ve told you that time and time again.”
“Wait, don’t hang up. I want to know how the kids are.”
“You… you want to know how MY kids are? The kids I’ve raised on my own? Your little daughter is fifteen and has a mouth on her that will take her straight to hell, and your son…”
Paul hears a voice in the background. It’s Mark. He asks who’s on the phone. Elizabeth immediately hangs up, leaving Paul to sit outdoors and admire his million-dollar house, smoke his expensive cigar, and splash in his glamorous pool. Alone.
He wonders if he even loves them, or what that love would entail. Would he give up everything around him for them? He’s worked too hard. His money gives him freedom to do whatever he wants. He can have a woman any time of the day, eat at the finest restaurants, and take off to anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice. This idea of having a family, like Doron and his wife, or Cove and Leondra, and now Wayne and Lydia burdens him with a feeling of guilt, if only for a brief moment. He wouldn’t want to be with one person forever, but he wouldn’t have to. Doron still fucks around all the time. So it’s not that. It’s greed. Why would anyone want to share his wealth with another person? The possibility that something could go wrong is too great. This is his life, and it was his hard work that got him to this point. Fucking whores and kids won’t suck it out from under him. But those brief moments of guilt…
A crash of a glass in the main room knocks Paul out of his daydream. Cove’s next to the open liquor cabinet wearing the hood and his boxer briefs, pouring another shot. Paul walks in and sees a broken glass on the ground. Cove shrugs his shoulders and takes off the hood, then swallows the shot and slams the empty glass on the counter. Paul notices his hands shake as he runs his hand through his hair, still holding the hood in the other.
“Did you give them what they wanted?”
“Yeah,” Cove mumbles. “I hope you fucking pay me a shitload for that one. It’s not easy to do that crap with my mother in the room. You’re lucky she’s about to pass out and probably won’t remember most of the night.”
“So, you want a lot of money?”
“Well, yeah. At this point, who wouldn’t? I want to buy a car as soon as I’m old enough, and now I think a house with a pool would be great at some point.”
Paul chuckles and takes out his wallet, putting a few five-hundred-dollar bills in Cove’s briefs. “That enough?”
“What the hell is going on?” a woman’s voice exclaims next to them. Cove turns to see Devery, her mouth hangs open, her eyes stare at the hood in his hand. Doron and Cove’s father enter from the hall to the right, having come in from the garage. Cove places the hood back in the drawer and takes his shirt from the chair. He dresses with his back to the group.
“Paul… and Doron,” Devery scorns, turning toward her brother. “How could you make Leondra’s son do such a thing. Does she know about this? Is this a joke on Lydia and her?”
“Dev, calm down,” Doron butts in, walking over to her and Paul. Cove pulls on his pants with his back still turned, too embarrassed to face them. “It’s not a joke, so don’t even mention it to them. Cove works for Paul.”
“What?” she fumes. “You’re talking about the Cove standing next to you, Leondra’s husband, right? Not their son. Not this young boy, Cove Everton the third.”
“Doron, shut the fuck up,” Paul snaps. “The kid just wants a little extra money to buy a car, isn’t that right, Covey?”
“Yes,” he says, firm in his response, turning around. “It was just one time and Paul gave me a shitload of money.”
“Watch your mouth,” Cove’s father says to his son.
“He gave me a lot of money and…”
“What you just did in there was illegal,” Devery persists. She places one hand on her waist and points the other at Paul. “And you know it. You could go to prison.”
“No one’s going to prison,” Doron says as he paces and lights a cigarette.
“Don’t fucking smoke in my house, Doron. Head out back, and take our young Star with you. Devery, let’s go to my office and talk about this, in private. The kid’s fine and no one was hurt so let’s talk it out and you’ll see there’s nothing to worry about.”
“This child in front of me has a tattoo, Paul. I’m not ignorant.”
Doron ignores Devery’s words and follows Paul’s orders, taking Cove out the back door. Cove looks back at his father to see if he’s following.
“Take him home,” Paul nods to Cove’s father. He obeys and leaves in silence. He closes the sliding glass doors, watching as Paul places his hand on Devery’s back, leading her up the stairs to his office suite.
“I wouldn’t want to be Paul right now, Dev’s gonna give him so much shit,” Doron says, exhaling smoke into the night.
“I wouldn’t want to be Devery,” Cove says, bending down to pick up his shoes to head home. “Paul’s gonna try to fuck her.”
Doron takes a swing at Co
ve, only to have his fist stopped in mid-air by his father.
“Try that again and your head will be on a platter. Don’t lay a hand on my son”
Doron lets out a laugh and holds his stomach as he falls forward. “Are you serious?” he snorts. “Ha, that son of yours has had more hands on him than all of us combined.”
“Knock it off, dickhead,” Cove’s father says. He slams Doron onto the ground and kneels on his back.
“Dad, stop. Don’t. Paul can’t see this, get up,” he pleads, frantic to put an end to the night. “Let’s go. Doron, I apologize. I’m sorry. Now let’s go. I don’t want to be here anymore,” Cove begs, running his hand through his hair. “Please, Dad. Please!”
“Cove, what’s wrong with you? Has Paul threatened you again? Did he hurt you?”
“You can’t do this. Not with Paul so close. Let him go, Dad,” he says in a panic. “Dad… Dad, please…Dad…”
***
My eyes flutter open in search of light. The blinds and curtains over our hotel room window are closed and with no lamps on I’m in total darkness. I feel Cove’s warm breath against my back. He’s breathing hard and fast, possibly lost in a dream. Hopefully a pleasant one this time. With my bladder about to explode I see no choice but to slither away, trying to free myself from our entwined legs without stirring him awake. He mumbles and turns, and I stand quickly, about to burst.
Too much wine. Way too much wine. Phew. We had some at dinner too. Cove drinks a lot, even more than Mera and me, and it’s hard to keep up with him. Not that I have to, but sometimes I forget how much I’ve had while I’m in the moment.
I wash the smeared mascara off my face, brush my teeth and fix my hair, ready to curl back up next to my handsome man. He always smells so wonderful, like vanilla, spice, and cedar all rolled into one. I take his Clive Christianson C off the bathroom counter, open the bottle and sniff the contents. Yup, that’s it. Lovely. Simply wonderful. I close the bottle and turn off the light, then sneak back into bed.