by Red Phoenix
“It means nothing,” Durov assures him.
“Look, Anderson has offered to help me combat this latest attack, but here’s the thing. I guarantee that if I stay here, it will directly impact each of you. She won’t hesitate to hurt you if it will hurt me.”
I’m heartened when both Durov and Samantha dismiss his misgivings and immediately offer their support, too.
Thane holds up his hand. “While I deeply appreciate your offer, it’s not only the three of you who would be at risk. I’m concerned about the potential impact on glee and the dungeon itself. Anything associated with me is at risk.”
He pauses for a moment, and I can tell by the catch in his voice that what he is about to say is difficult for him. “Which is why it would be best if I leave now.”
When I start to protest, Thane interrupts me. “I knew last year that I was a taking a gamble by coming to this campus. I never intended to make friends. It was an error on my part, knowing how dangerous my mother is and…I’m sorry.”
“We’re not cowards,” Durov states emphatically.
“I know,” Thane says with restrained calm. “However, you have no idea what the press will dig up. You could lose your student visa and get sent home. It’s not worth the risk.”
“So? I finish my studies in Russia,” Durov answers with a shrug.
Seeing he’s making no headway with Durov, Thane turns to Samantha. “We both know that if my mother ever catches wind of our private lessons or your association with glee, she has the potential of not only trashing your reputation, but dividing your family. It’s not worth chancing your college career.”
Samantha purses her lips and glances at Durov briefly before answering. “Maybe the time has come for me to own who I am.”
Thane sits back in his chair, clearly frustrated. “I don’t seem to be getting through to any of you. This isn’t a game.”
Knowing what needs to happen, I take the reins. “Look, you’ve worked too damn hard to get to this point. No way are we letting you quit when we’re all ready and willing to fight for you.”
Instead of seeing reason, Thane growls. “You have no idea how bad it will get.”
I chuckle. “Hey, if things get too rough, we’ll all move to Durov’s beach house.”
Durov nods his approval.
But Thane is vehemently opposed to my idea. “I guarantee that mob of reporters will descend on us there. It would jeopardize your residence and the neighbors around you.”
Durov leans forward. “You act as if I am unfamiliar with this type of thing.”
Thane seems taken aback.
“What you fail to realize is that I have a network of people who can help in this situation.” He smiles wickedly, raising an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised what I can make happen.”
Thane interlocks his fingers as he contemplates Durov’s offer.
Durov continues, “My people can get you wherever you need to go. The reporters will find it nearly impossible to harass you with my men there.”
Thane nods. It looks like Durov is winning him over until Durov leans in close and adds in an ominous tone, “Understand, I have no problem getting my hands dirty—should the need arise.”
Thane’s defenses suddenly return. “That is one thing you cannot do.”
“Fine,” the Russian replies nonchalantly, smiling in my direction and shrugging to let me know he tried. “We’re willing to play by your rules, comrade…just as long as you stay.”
Thane lets out a long sigh, still not convinced. So, I put my hand in the center of the table, stating in no uncertain terms, “I’m all in.”
Rytsar immediately covers mine and agrees, “All in.”
Samantha places her hand on top, echoing Durov. “All in.”
Thane finally concedes, putting his hand over Samantha’s. “Then I guess I’m staying.” However, his eyes dart to each of us in concern. “None of you deserves this complication in your lives.”
Looking him dead in the eye, I tell him, “Neither do you, buddy.”
Breaking Point
Later that afternoon, I head back to the dorm and decide to have a little fun with the horde of reporters milling around the building.
“Run, Thane, run!” I cry, pointing toward some random guy who vaguely resembles my roommate.
The gaggle of reporters turn as one and start running toward him. The kid freezes in his tracks for a second before bolting in the opposite direction.
I chuckle to myself as I walk into the building.
“Mr. Anderson? Can I have a moment of your time?”
I look at the one lone reporter smart enough not to follow the group. I shake my head. “I don’t have time for people like you.”
“Please, I—”
I shut the door on him and turn away with a sense of righteousness.
Reporters are the scum of the earth…
I have to say I’m impressed with how quickly Durov was able to assemble a party of men to stick by Thane’s side. My friend now has a human barrier between him and all the reporters, so he can attend his classes and then return to the dorm untouched, although they still have to push through them.
Unfortunately, that isn’t stopping the speculations about Thane from growing.
“Anderson!” one of my friends calls out as I wait for the elevator.
“What’s up, James?”
I can tell the guy is riled up as he approaches me. “Why the hell are you still rooming with that criminal?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I answer dismissively, turning my back on him.
He puts his hand on my shoulder and jerks me around to face him. “You’d better sleep with one eye open, because that freaky fucker killed his father and is gunning for his mother now. The kid is seriously unbalanced.”
My hand automatically forms into a fist, but I fight the urge to sock him in the face. “Are you really stupid enough to believe any of that crap?”
He sets his jaw. “You’re actually defending the freak?” He shakes his head, snarling under his breath, “Something’s not quite right between you two…”
I get up in his face. “Not another word, jackass.”
“Oh, shit!” He backs away from me with a look of revulsion. “I bet the two of you are banging each other. I always wondered why you two sneak off together at night.”
I push him away as the elevator doors open, but he follows me inside and socks me in the gut, bellowing, “You’re a fucking faggot!”
After the doors close, I start whaling on him, feeling no compunction about letting loose. My pop always taught me that you never start a fight, but you sure as hell finish one.
By the time the elevator opens on the third floor, I have the asshole subdued in a lump on the floor. Wiping my bleeding lip, I look down and tell him, “Go fuck yourself, James.”
I head to my room and clean my face up, thinking nothing of it. I trust I’ve taught any other assholes who might be questioning my roommate’s integrity to think twice.
Thane doesn’t arrive until after dark. Seeing my busted lip, he seems overly upset by it.
“Fuck! It’s already started.”
“Nothing happened, man. James just needed to be corrected. Trust me. He looks way worse than I do.”
“Why would you fight with him in the first place? It’s imperative you keep your head low.”
“You weren’t there. I didn’t lift a damn finger until he threw that first punch.”
“Why did he fight you in the first place?”
I tilt my head, cracking my neck to keep my composure. “He believes you’re a killer and that…” I pause, unsure if I should tell him.
“That what?” Thane demands.
“That I swing from both branches.”
He furrows his brow. “What the hell?”
“The asshole thinks we’re sneaking off at night to bang each other.”
Thane closes his eyes, muttering. “Of course, he does. Makes perfect se
nse.”
“But don’t give it another thought. I explained to him how it is—with my fist.”
“Damn it! You’re no different than Durov.”
“Like hell I am. I didn’t throw the first punch or the first insult.”
The uneasy look Thane gives me actually sends chills down my spine. “I’m afraid for you, Anderson.”
I laugh off his unwarranted concern. “Why? This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a fist fight.”
“You don’t understand how serious this is.” He sighs, adding sadly, “But, you soon will.”
“Hey, there’s no reason to sweat this, buddy. I’ve ridden a champion bull, remember? Nothing can faze me.”
There’s a haunted look in Thane’s eyes when he tells me, “Nothing compares to the cruelty of people.”
Another chill shoots down my spine, but I immediately shake it off.
The next day, I’m pulled out of my calculus class and told to report directly to the dean’s office.
I’m still clueless as to how bad things are until I enter the room. There I’m confronted by the college hierarchy and all three men wear serious expressions.
“Sit down,” Dean Abernathy orders.
I look at him questioningly, shaking my head in disbelief. “What’s this all about?”
“Sit,” he barks again.
I do what he says, but I’m confused by the harsh treatment.
“Were you involved in an altercation yesterday involving another student?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware that assault is grounds for dismissal?”
“But I didn’t start it.”
“We have a witness that says otherwise.”
“That’s bullshit! James attacked me. First, the asshole accused me of being gay, then he started punching me in the elevator and calling me a faggot.”
The dean slowly laces his fingers together, looking extremely annoyed with me. “You will address me properly, Mr. Anderson, and refrain from using foul language.”
I sweep my hair back. “Look, I’m sorry, Dean Abernathy.” I glance at the other two men. “I apologize to all of you for my inappropriate language, but James is flat-out lying.”
The man on the right speaks first. “It’s come to our attention that you and Mr. Davis may be involved in illegal activities.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
He gives me a stern glare. “I assure you, we are.”
The other man asks, “Can you explain where the two of you go at night when you leave the campus?”
Fuck…I can’t say a word about the dungeon.
Thinking fast on my feet, I reply, “What we do off campus is of no consequence to you or this college.”
The second man huffs, turning to the other two. “I find it interesting that he’s not answering a simple question.”
I direct my attention toward Dean Abernathy. “I’ve done nothing wrong, sir.”
He picks up a file with my name on it and frowns. “I’ve looked into your records, and I see you were charged with vandalism as a minor.”
I laugh, remembering that epic prank in high school. “It was a practical joke. Nothing criminal about it.”
“What it shows is a propensity toward unlawful acts or, at the very least, a serious lack of sound judgement.”
I close my eyes, trying to rein in my anger. “Last night I was attacked by James McDougal. He harassed me and then threw the first punch. All I was trying to do was defend myself.”
“That’s not what he told us.”
Dean Abernathy clears his throat, handing me a photo. “This picture was taken earlier this morning.”
I have to hide my smile as I stare down at James’ face. Damn…he looks a lot worse than I do.
Serves the fucker right.
Rubbing my split lip, I tell the dean, “Sir, my father taught me right. I never instigate a fight, and I never throw the first punch. But, if someone attacks me, I’m damn well going to teach them not to do it again.”
“Violence is not acceptable. Those outlaw tactics may work in rural Colorado, but they’re not tolerated here.”
The chill I felt last night returns when I realize they might just kick me out. “What can I do to convince you I’m not the bad guy here?”
The man on the right looks at me with a condescending smile. “Explain to us what you do with Mr. Davis at night. Are you selling illegal drugs?”
“Of course not!”
“What then?”
There’s no way out of this without exposing the dungeon. I sigh, the feeling of defeat washing over me. “I can’t say, sir.”
“Then we have no other choice than to put you on probation for the assault while we decide your fate at this institution.”
“What about James?”
“His future is no concern of yours,” Dean Abernathy states, closing the subject for discussion.
Even though this is total bullshit, I can’t afford to lose class time, and I am not above begging.
“Please, don’t put me on probation. I’ve been working hard this year—just ask my professors. You can’t let that idiot’s lies ruin everything I’m working toward. Please, Dean Abernathy.”
“Not another word, young man, unless you want me to expel you right now.”
Knowing my back’s up against the wall, I stand up and nod to them. Before I open the door to leave, however, I turn around and tell them, “I trust justice will prevail.”
Their silence is my only answer, so I force myself to swallow down my anger as I quietly shut the door behind me.
I can’t believe how quickly things have gotten out of control. Thane wasn’t exaggerating about how bad things would get.
On my way back to my room, several reporters confront me, trying to pump me for information.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I yell at them. “All of you!”
“Mr. Anderson, if you would just let Mr. Davis—”
I see it’s that persistent reporter I had to shut the door on yesterday. “Don’t even, man…” I warn him. “I am so not in the mood.”
“But—”
I growl ominously as I escape into the building, cutting him off before he can say anything else to piss me off.
Fuck, it hasn’t even been forty-eight hours yet and I’m already going crazy. I can’t even imagine the hell Thane went through when he was younger.
I take the stairs, wanting to avoid people as I head up to my room. Once I lock the door, I turn around and let out a loud roar of frustration.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
I can’t believe James McDougal, who had his ass handed to him after his little stunt last night, had the nerve to go to the dean and blame me for it.
I start pacing, wondering what the hell my parents are going to think when I tell them I’m on probation with a possibility of expulsion.
I stop in my tracks when I hear a clamber outside, then someone unlocking the door. As it swings opens, I see Durov’s hired men surrounding Thane. He scoots inside, shouting as he shuts the door, “This is getting fucking ridiculous!”
“What’s got you all riled up?” I ask, surprised to see him as upset as me.
“I’ve been told I’m no longer welcome at the dungeon because they can’t afford the risk of exposure.”
“Damn it! But if that’s the case, I won’t go, either.”
“You’re not the problem. As long as you steer clear of me, you’re free to go.”
“Not after today,” I answer attempting to sound light, even though my voice is strained.
“Why? What happened to you?” Thane asks with a look of concern.
“I’ve been put on probation. Dean Abernathy is considering expelling me from the school.”
“What the hell for?”
I explain what happened, shaking my head afterward. “It’s a fucked up world when I’m the one in trouble, not fucking James McDougal.”
“Unfortun
ately, I can’t protect you from this shitstorm.”
“I didn’t expect you to.”
Thane puts his hand on my shoulder. “But you shouldn’t put your college career in jeopardy defending me.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Thane looks at me sadly. “Being right isn’t always enough.” He goes to the window and gazes down at the reporters. “This isn’t worth it.”
I see that determined look in his eye and know he’s up to no good.
Before I can stop him, Thane heads out the door. The guy’s so fast, he’s already down the stairs before I can catch up. “Whatever you’re going to do, don’t do it!”
Thane ignores me and heads outside, so I follow him.
It’s pure chaos.
Durov’s men instantly surround him, but the mob of reporters pushes against them, trying to get to Thane.
The air is filled with the constant click of cameras and the sound of reporters yelling at Thane to answer their questions.
I notice that obnoxious reporter from before weaseling his way toward Thane, so I head him off, grabbing at his shirt.
“Fuck you all!” Thane yells above the din. “What will it take to get you to leave me the fuck alone?”
The reporters start screaming questions, holding their microphones out, hoping to record his response.
“Mr. Anderson!” the little weasel in my grip shouts. “Don’t let your friend say another word. My name is Harold Thompson. I’m here because I want to represent Mr. Davis as his lawyer.”
I let the guy go, looking down at him in shock. All this time, he just wanted to help. “Sorry about that, man,” I apologize as I start pushing him toward Thane.
“Thane, buddy! You need to talk to this guy now!” I yell over the clamor of reporters.
Thane looks over at me and nods at the bodyguards, who part enough to let Thompson approach Thane.
I watch as the guy whispers in his ear. Afterward, Thane looks over at me, gesturing that I should follow him.
Thompson leads us to his car, the mob of reporters milling around us every step of the way. It would be funny if it weren’t so incredibly annoying.
Thankfully, Durov’s men are able to keep the reporters at a distance so we can get into the car.