Page 314 of Rage

Who is this man?He's just sogood.He's made me feel things I never thought were possible, gave me more pleasure than I've ever felt in my life, and held me while I cried like a baby. Now here he is picking up all the pieces so I can go about my merry way. I don't want to leave him, don't want our time together to be over yet. I need to find a way to thank him without scaring him off because I've gotten so clingy.

"Stay," I blurt. At the incredulous look on his face, I shake off my awkwardness and try again. "You can stay here, if you want. The housekeeper is off today. My parents will probably come home to change, but they're going out so they won't be aroundlong. Their rooms are on the far side of the house, and they never come down here. We can lock the door to the stairs just in case and maybe keep the main lights off. But you could hang out. Watch TV, read a book, play video games, take a nap. Anything you want—"Ugh, I'm rambling. "I'd really like it if you were here when I get home. I'd like to make you dinner or something to thank you for…" My words trail off, and a deep red blush heats my face. "I didn't mean?—"

Levi laughs. A bright, happy sound that fills me up on the inside. "You want me to hang around so you can thank me for the best orgasm of your life? Sounds promising." He pumps his eyebrows, and I snort out an embarrassed laugh.

I sigh. "I just meant that I'd like to spend some more time with you, and since my parents aren't going to be back until fairly late, it's a good night to do it. Outside of the… sex stuff," I say awkwardly. "You’ve been a good friend, and I want to be a better friend to you, too. I feel like things have been unfairly one sided." I glance down at the half hard appendage that's tenting the towel and drag my gaze up his amazing body. He has a slighter frame than I do, cut more like a swimmer than a weightlifter. His usually light blond hair is darker when it's wet, the difference made even more obvious with the contrast to his pale skin. His body is mostly hairless, aside from a light smattering on his arms and legs, and a thin trail of dark blond hair that trails down the bottom of his flat stomach.He's perfect.

"Did you forget the way you let me fuck your throat?" he says bluntly, making me choke on my own spit for the second time today. He laughs and pulls me in for another kiss, this one deeper and slower. "You better get out of here. I'll stick around, maybe take a dip in that insane tub of yours."

The grin that splits my face almost hurts.

Chapter Five

Levi

Well, mission accomplished. I weaseled my way into the Havre mansion. Adam played right into my plan.

I expected we'd "accidentally" lose track of time fooling around in the shower. What I didn't expect was the raw, emotional moments we shared. He'd cried—sobbed—when the release his body was experiencing triggered something more. Something deep and painful. I felt it in my gut, his pain radiating through my bones as if it were my own.

There was a good chance any sort of ass play was going to set off his deep-seated internalized issues about his sexuality. I was expecting that on some level. But this felt different from the meltdown he had after the first time we kissed, or the way he'd freaked after I jerked him off the first time. The hair pulling, muttering to himself, falling to his knees to pray for forgiveness—I understand where it’s all coming from. Fortunately, the more that happens between us, the more he seems to come to terms with it. Not that I see him coming out anytime soon. Or ever.

Hell, I'm not out to my family. My mother has always been highly religious. I'm sure my father would be rolling in his grave if he knew his only son likes cock. I'm out at school, at least. And my sister knew.Before.

Thinking of my sister gets my thoughts back on track. Worrying over the gut-wrenching acceptance I felt like a hit to the chest won’t help the situation. Adam may never forgive or trust me or speak to me again after I'm done with his father, and I need to be okay with that. He's collateral damage, an unwilling sacrifice on my path to avenge the one person I love above everyone else.

He'll be fine. Maybe he'll even be more willing to find a way to live his truth now that he's had some positive experience. I could still be helping him.

That's what I tell myself, like a mantra, as I tiptoe up the stairs. Adam said no one is home, and I should have a little while before they come home to change. On Sundays, his father stays well after the services for official church business meetings, and those get pushed later on potluck Sundays. It's just after 2:30PM. He expects them to be home around 4:30PM, take an hour to get ready, and then be gone until close to midnight. Sunday nights are their weekly country club get togethers, where they rub elbows with the important people and talk about how to take over the world and what they're going to do about the brown people, queers, and dirty poor folks trying to bring them down. At least, that's how I imagine it. I'm probably not very far off.

Adam expects to be home by six, so I can’t just wait until after they leave. I’m not exactly prepared, but I’m still going to take this chance to explore. I didn't think I'd get in here so easily. If I can get here once, especially as easily as I did, then I can do it again. And if Adam isn't willing to bring me back after today, I know the Havre's are away from their home most of day and night on Sundays. This is a good start and more than I expected to have after only six weeks of flirting with Adam while trying to avoid his father's attention.

I nearly trip over the too-long sweatpants that Adam loaned me, stopping to roll the bottoms up to my calves and cinch the waist as tight as I can. I don't need to be distracted by my pants falling off until later, when I'm hoping Adam will be the removing them himself.

The house is deathly quiet, and cleaner than an art museum. It feels empty while still being over the top and lavish. Everything is crystal and ornate gold. Massive gilded frames decorate the walls, and the furniture looks like it's never been sat on. The plush carpets are stark white and there are perfect diagonal vacuum marks across each room. I skip all the main rooms, not wanting to tread through in even my socked feet in case I leave behind prints. I stick to the marble tile floors in the hallways, kitchen, utility room, and foyer. The stairs are marble as well, so it's not until I get upstairs that I have to worry about my feet sinking into the plush fibers. Thankfully, it's obviously been walked on this morning, but out of an abundance of caution, I try to only step where someone else has stepped.

Senator Havre's footprints are easy to pick out, since they're much larger than Mrs. Havre's and it seems like she wears heels in the house. Which isn't surprising, she seems like a Stepford Wife if I've ever seen one. A sad, broken Stepford Wife. I wonder if she'll get some freedom when I ruin her husband, if she'll be happier even if they lose this house and all the pretty things they own.

Mrs. Havre almost never speaks, keeps her head down, and does what she’s told. I’ve never seen Senator Havre show her any kindness or affection. I wonder if Adam even notices, or if he's conditioned for the women around him to act that way. As kind as he is to all the ladies at church, I can't imagine that he's okay with how his father treats his mother. That wouldn't be the Adam I've come to know.

Interestingly, but also not surprisingly, the footsteps seem to deviate to different rooms. I follow the larger footprints to what must be Senator Havre's room, which is enormous with ornate crown molding and floor to ceiling windows. The bathroom is the size of my mother's living room and has an actual sauna. Everything is marble and chrome, and I'm careful not to touch anything in case I leave smudges. Back in the bedroom, I use the bottom of my borrowed t-shirt to cover my hands to open the closet, which is unsurprisingly the size of a normal person's bedroom. Everything is so meticulously organized and clean, there's no real hiding places for anything interesting, but I’m able to steal a pair of soft leather driving gloves.

The bedroom is much the same. Even his underwear is folded into neat, starched squares.Who starches their underwear!?Honestly, that should be enough proof that the guy is a criminal.

The bedside table might as well be in a hotel. There's almost nothing personal in there at all, aside from some sleeping pills, a loaded handgun, and a journal. My heartbeat picks up when I see the journal, but there's not much of interest in there aside from a couple of nearly illegible notes. Most of what I can make out are numbers. There's a phone number, some scribbling that might be an address, and what looks like possibly a date and time. Then there are some random numbers jotted down that have no explanation:

200 of #1

800 of #2 24-48 hours

I take a photo of the writing before fanning through the pages to make sure I didn't miss anything else. A small bronze key falls out, clattering against the bottom of the drawer, the soundcausing me to jump. It breaks me out of my concentration, and I hear a car engine outside.

Quickly, I put everything back as I found it, aside from the key, which I pocket for the time being. The way it was hidden makes me think it might be important, and I need to examine it more to figure out where it came from.

Careful not to touch anything or muss the carpet, I fly down the stairs just as I hear car doors shut. Voices get louder as they move nearer to the front door. Or rather, one voice. Senator Havre is pissed off about something.

Shit shit shit shit shit!

Just as the doorknob turns, I scoot into a dark hallway and hide in the first room I see. I don't have time to worry about where I am, nearly falling on my ass as I slide into the room, slipping on the polished floors in my socks. I scramble up and silently close the door. Thank fuck the Havre's seem to go straight up the stairs, by the sounds of Senator Havre's voice echoing through the house. I don't dare breathe until I’m sure his loud voice is far enough away to be muffled.

---