The Rooster Club_The Best Cocks in Town
Page 27
What a miserable couple of people they were on that twelve hour ride.
16 CHAPTER SIXTEEN
1995…
It doesn’t matter how much control we think we have, something bigger and badder always comes along, knocks us on our ass, and laughs in our face. Michael was just starting to lift himself up from this big, mean monster. Life had taken a drastic turn just when he thought he’d finally reached the first step to climbing the ladder towards the pinnacle of success. The 1990 recession had taken everything he’d worked for. Along with his divorce to the she-bitch.
When he and Christina had gotten married, his father-in-law had co-signed the loan documents for his house. He lost that, and his store, and club. Michael was actually glad to be rid of the club. He’d gotten complacent in feeling safe from the threats of his past. But the Harlem mob had found him, and his club. Fortunately, money is a powerful weapon. He’d paid them enough on a regular basis to keep any leaks of their past ties quiet. But when he had to start over, he’d made his mind up to disappear completely and start fresh. He changed his name. Then he focused on rebuilding.
He could live without things, he knew he could get them back, he just needed time and opportunities. He’d done it before with less experience and connections, he could do it again.
What almost destroyed him, what brought him crumbling to his knees, were the deaths in his family. He’d lost two brothers and one sister to aids, one right after the other. And it had nearly broken him.
He had to get away from everything that had reminded him of the ruinations of his life. He moved to Fort Lee, New Jersey, found a little apartment, and locked himself away to heal. He was happy and content for a while, living life as a recluse. There were no women, no booze, no drugs, no friends, no clubs, nothing except focusing on rebuilding his life and himself. He went to see his son in Brooklyn, and his daughter in Queens. In his boy, he was starting to see himself and his friends, how they had run the streets, living life without consequences. But things were different in Greenpoint than they had been when he’d been there. It wasn’t a close knit community anymore where everyone looked out for each other. Michael couldn’t help notice that his son was on the path to going wild and making wrong decisions. He vowed to stay close to him. He refused to let him make the same mistakes they’d all made.
He couldn’t do anything about his daughter. She was turning into her mother, each time he went to visit her, he saw it more. In the haughty way she carried herself, even at such a young age, and her selfishness. This broke his heart.
One night when Michael was returning home from the gym when he’d turned the corner by his apartment and saw his brother, Elijah, with a woman. They were leaning against a car parked out front. Michael’s gut twisted. His brother was high again, he could see it even from where he stood. His steps slowed, he needed to get a grip or he knew he would blow up on him, maybe even give him the ass kicking he desperately needed.
Elijah’s head snapped to the right at the sound of a noise. His eyes were bulging and his pupils were dilated.
“Michael, man, you scared the shit out of me!” Elijah laughed nervously.
“No doubt, bro, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Michael snapped.
Michael wasn’t the only one who’d buried three siblings too young because of drugs and aids, so had Elijah. And it killed Michael to see him like this. He couldn’t understand why Elijah couldn’t get it, why couldn’t he get clean?
“Don’t do this now, Michael,” Elijah started to beg.
“Get in the house before my landlord sees you and throws me out,” Michael had growled.
Michael was furious. He unlocked the door and ran up the steps as Elijah and his girlfriend followed behind him. When they got to his apartment, Michael turned on him.
“What the hell happened now?!”
“Michael, I got thrown out of my place…,” Elijah began hurriedly.
“Dammit, Elijah!” Michael threw at him.
“I didn’t have the money for my rent…,” Elijah continued.
“I’m not going to lend it to you, I don’t have it. I’m finally starting something good tomorrow. Find yourself a decent job, and stop snorting all your money away.” Michael was extremely frustrated at the news.
“I’m not…,” Elijah tried to argue with him.
“Don’t give me that shit! Look at you, you’re a fucking mess. If you ground your teeth any harder, you won’t have any left in your goddam head!”
Michael was disgusted with his brother. But he loved him, and couldn’t stand by and watch him kill himself.
“I’m going to quit, Michael, I swear. I need your help, just for a little while.”
Michael turned to the woman that was with Elijah for the first time. He’d immediately thought she was his girlfriend, figuring they’d partied together. But at a second glance, he knew she wasn’t stoned.
“Did you get thrown out too?” Michael asked her.
The woman let out a shocked laugh.
“No! I’m a friend of his, my name is Theresa. He called me ‘cause he needed a ride,” she answered as she shrugged her shoulders.
Michael took a quick assessment of both of them again. His brother was a mess, strung out on blow, and he probably hadn’t showered in a couple of days. The woman, Theresa, didn’t look like a cokehead. Her clothes were clean and neat, and she was attractive, she was very pretty actually. She looked like a good girl.
“Ok,” Michael gritted out. “You can stay here for a little while, and get your shit together. You’re coming with me to the gym, I’m going to help you look for a job, and you’re going to eat right. If you don’t do what I tell you to do, you’ve got to go. Do you fucking hear me?!” Michael told him sternly.
“Thanks Mike, I owe you,” Elijah let out a heavy exhale of relief.
“Look at me Elijah.” Michael grabbed his brother by the back of his neck and brought his face close.
“Is that where you want to end up, in the goddam cemetery? Dead and forgotten, after you rotted away in agonizing pain?!” Michael yelled at him. “They did what you are doing, fucking around, getting high, doing shit you know you’re not supposed to be doing. Is that what you want? I don’t want to go out there every Sunday and look at a damn rock with your name on it. But if you keep doing what you’re doing, that is exactly where you’ll be!”
Michael had already watched two brothers and a sister die, he would never be able to survive if he lost another one.
They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, both of them afraid. Michael because he hoped it wasn’t too late for Elijah. And Elijah because he didn’t want to get thrown out into the street.
“I’m not burying another brother, do you understand? I need you to get clean, I couldn’t take it if something happened to you.” Michael’s voice was strained and ragged as he pulled his brother in and embraced him tightly.
“I know, Michael, I’m sorry.”
Michael gripped him harder and placed a kiss on his forehead. All the brothers and sisters were close, they always had been, even as kids. They had to be, they had to look out for each other. Nothing had changed since then.
“Go get in the shower, you look like shit,” Michael laughed tightly.
“Yeah, I will, I’ve got to get my bags though.”
“You go ahead, I’ll get them.”
Theresa stood silently as she watched the two men. She was moved by the deep caring they had for each other. Michael’s good looks didn’t go unnoticed either.
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
“I’ll be right back, Elijah, the towels are in the closet.”
Michael followed Theresa out to her car, and left his brother to get cleaned up. The guy really looked terrible. He’d lost a lot of weight, his hair hadn’t been cut in months, and his face was very gaunt.
The first order of business was getting him to eat.
“Thanks for bringing Elijah over,” Michael told her.r />
“No problem. He’s a good guy, he’s just a little lost right now. If anybody can help him, it’s you,” Theresa replied, admiring Michael’s kindness.
She popped open the trunk and Michael pulled out Elijah’s two suitcases.
“Why don’t you stay and eat with us. It’s the least I can do to thank you for helping him,” Michael gave her a genuine smile.
Theresa hesitated before she answered. The man standing in front of her was so sexy, he made her body tremble inside in places she didn’t know she had. There was nothing she wanted more than to get to know him better. And maybe more.
“Are you sure? I know you guys have a lot of catching up to do,” she answered slowly.
“Yeah, of course, we’ll have plenty of time for that, with the two of us locked up in that little apartment. Besides, it will keep us from killing each other,” Michael joked.
Michael’s relaxed confidence and raw sensuality melted her. She would be stupid if she said no.
“Ok, thanks,” she smiled shyly.
***
It was 5:00 a.m., dark and cold outside, as Michael waited for Mr. Rubinowietz to pick him up. The old man had taken a liking to Michael instantly. He could tell Michael had something special about him, something that was going to make him richer.
The black Cadillac pulled to a sluggish stop on the empty street corner Michael was standing at. He pushed himself from the lamppost and got in the car.
“Don’t you believe in sleeping?” Michael laughed.
“Time is money, my boy, and sleeping takes up valuable time. Let’s go get breakfast,” Mr. Rubinowietz said, as he pulled out from the circle of light and sped away.
“I think you like to have the roads to yourself at this time of the morning, so you can drive like a crazy person,” Michael joked as he latched onto the dashboard, holding on for dear life.
“That helps too,” the portly older man laughed sadistically.
As the men sat with their plates of over-easy-eggs, bacon, and toast at the diner table, Michael listened intently to what Mr. Rudy Rubinowietz was telling him.
“It doesn’t matter if all you’ve got is a pile of hot steamy shit to offer, if they like you, and trust you, they’ll buy it.”
“Rudy, I took two stores that were operating in the red for years, turned them both around, and made them the highest ranking locations in their vicinity,” Michael replied.
The older man slammed his fist on the table. The black coffee jumped out of the cups, leaving puddles spilling out over the saucers, and onto the table.
“I don’t give a damn about what you’ve done,” he said feverishly. “To me, that doesn’t exist, you’re like a newborn babe, you have to learn everything from scratch.” He put his fork down. “Michael, do you know why I hired you?” he looked at him intently.
“I thought it was my experience,” Michael answered with playful cockiness.
Rudy Rubinowietz and his brand had been one of Michael’s competitors when he’d had his furniture store. He’d never met the man until recently, but he’d heard of him and had a lot of respect for him. His stores were the only ones that had survived, and made a profit, during the recession. It was sheer luck that their paths had crossed, and Michael was going to do whatever the old man said.
Mr. Rubinowietz scrunched his eyes behind his wireframe glasses, “Yes, yes, I know about that,” he said, waving the fact away like a pesky fly. He pointed his short, stubby finger at him, “It’s you, you are the greatest commodity that you’ve got. What you have,” he told him with a gleam in his eye, “you can’t buy, and you can’t learn.” The round man in the black suit that was starting to show the flakes of dry skin on the shoulders sat back in the booth. “That, my dear boy, is going to make us both a lot of money. As long as you listen to me.”
Rudy picked up his fork again, poked an egg yolk, and swirled the dry toast around in the yellow goo.
Michael had worked shit-ass jobs the past few years, salesman here, limo driver there, making just enough to pay the bills until the right opportunity had come along. Then he met Rudy Rubinowietz.
An old friend began to seep through Michael’s veins.
Hope.
This was the first time he’d felt it in a very long time.
***
3 months later…
“How the hell could you miss that throw?!”
The Giants were playing and Michael was yelling at his little television. He was alone in the apartment, Elijah was working and wasn’t going to be home for a few hours. After a couple of months of eating good, taking care of himself, and a few slip-ups, Michael had gotten Elijah a job at one of Rudy’s stores. He’d been completely clean for over a month.
Things were looking better for both of them every day. Michael was finally starting to relax.
Buzz!
The sound of the downstairs door buzzer made him jump.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” he laughed.
“Yeah?!” he pushed the button and spoke into the little metal box.
“It’s Theresa. I brought a pizza,” came the gritty sound of her voice from downstairs.
“Come up.”
He unlocked the door and waited while he listened to her soft footsteps come up the steps. Michael didn’t think it was unusual for Theresa to stop by. She had been around a lot, hanging out with his brother, the three of them had even gone out to eat several times. He liked her, he thought she was a good person. And a good friend to Elijah.
“What a nice surprise, but Elijah’s not here.”
“Oh,” she said, slightly out of breath.
“Come in, that doesn’t mean we can’t eat,” he smiled, moving to the side to welcome her in.
“You sure?” she asked tentatively with a shy smile.
“Yes, of course, I won’t bite,” Michael laughed.
‘I really hope you do,’ she thought as she walked by him.
“I’m watching the game. Do you like football?” he asked as he went to the kitchen and got a couple of plates and two beers.
“Love it,” she lied through her teeth.
She’d watch ditch diggers if it meant she could be alone with Michael. She’d already known Elijah wasn’t going to be home, and had talked herself into coming for days.
“Sit, make yourself comfortable. Elijah will be home in a couple of hours if you want to wait,” Michael said as he sat on the couch next to her and passed her a beer.
“Thanks,” Theresa said as she took the bottle. “Who’s winning?” she tilted it up and took a long swig of the cold liquid.
“Fucking Giants just fumbled,” Michael mumbled as he turned up his own beer.
He opened the box and served them each a slice of pizza.
“It looks good,” the words came out as his stomach growled.
“I got it from Salvatore’s around the corner.” She laughed, “Are you hungry?”
“Apparently I am,” Michael laughed with her.
They watched the game, ate hot pizza, and drank cold beers. Theresa cheered when Michael did, shouted at the TV when he did, not having a clue as to what has happening in the game.
When the Giants ran the field and scored a touchdown, Michael threw his hands in the air and hollered. He looked at Theresa, with the rush of adrenaline from the score still pumping through him, pulled her close, and kissed her. It wasn’t passionate, only a reaction to the excitement of the game.
She grabbed the moment with both hands, around his neck, and kissed him back.
That opened the floodgates of the pent-up celibacy he’d been living in the past couple of years. The sexual beast inside him roared, awakened from his long, deep sleep. The animal took over and began to devour the lush female in his hands.
He was starving and it was time to feast.
Michael eased Theresa back onto the couch as he climbed above her. He wasn’t thinking, the game was forgotten, as his mouth tasted and suckled her skin, and his dick sprang to life. His hands explored
the curves of her full breasts, while his knee opened the place he wanted to bury himself in.
Theresa arched into him, overwhelmed by the fury of his hunger. He ravaged her body as he pulled her clothes off, teasing and tasting her flesh. He was wild, and she loved it.
Michael brought her plump naked breasts together and lavished them with a vigorous need. Her brown points screamed at him to take them between his lips, and nibble them, pull them, suck them deeply between them, and his mouth began to water.
Need. Primal, animalistic need clawed at his balls.
He needed to fuck.
Hard.
Fast.
Deep.
He tore the clothes from his own body. Theresa’s nails scored down his bare flesh as she writhed below him. Michael grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his swollen cock, and squeezed it tightly around him.
“Fuck!” he growled.
Pushing her knees apart, he looked down at the glistening pussy waiting for him. A sound rumbled from deep in his chest as he sunk into her depths. He was past the point of no return, the fact he didn’t own a condom, he hadn’t needed one in years, was lost in his heat.
The familiar, sweet high rushed through him, electrifying his every nerve.
He was a junky, and this was his fix. He knew it, and he had to have it. There was no other way to put it, he was an addict.
This was nirvana.
He went crazy.
He fucked her, pounded her, banged out his release, insane and ravenous with his lust.
This was about him, and he took her along for the ride.
She screamed out as her orgasm began to rock her. He had to quiet her, so he clamped his mouth down on hers and swallowed the sound. The clashing of their tongues, with the squeezing of his cock sliding in and out of her, pushed him hard over the edge. He began to explode inside her, but he quickly pulled out. He watched the thick, white cum spurt across her stomach. He thought he’d never stop, it kept coming and coming.
He was loading her with two years’ worth of no sex.
When the final spasm shook him, he collapsed, gasping for air.