Blackmailed
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 6
Javier
With all my muscles tensed, I kept my eyes on Kenny's car, which was moving farther and farther away from me and my brother. Even after the car disappeared, I heard my pounding heartbeat hammering in my ears. Busted!
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked.
"Watching some lying faggot," Jorge said.
"I'm not lying. We broke up, I swear!"
"Sure, and I'm the president of… fucking whatever."
He banged his fist on the hood of a car and moved closer until I could smell beer and cigarettes on his breath, and saw disappointment and disgust in his eyes. The rest of his body didn't tell much, except that he hadn't washed his hair for days or changed his t-shirt for weeks. But that was nothing new.
"Last time I checked, we had a deal," he said.
"I did break up with him like you told me to."
"You really are a fag, huh?"
I swallowed and a chill ran down my spine when I saw him putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out his phone. He held it up like he was enjoying the growing panic in my eyes. Probably he was, and that would be nothing new either.
"Okay, maybe I had a moment of weakness." I raised my hands in the air. "Please don't send the video to anyone."
"Why should I keep my promise, when you can't keep yours?" he said.
"Because this whole fucking deal is fucking unfair."
"How is that my problem?" he asked.
"Don't send the video," I begged.
He smirked, his puffy, greasy face reflecting the light from his phone. He tapped his finger on the screen until I heard my own voice, gasping and panting, as my orgasm was approaching. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to watch the recording.
"I'll break up with him again." To prove my point, I took my phone, wrote a short message, and held the screen in front of him. "I'll send this to Kenny now. Okay?"
The message was simple and plain, just a few words that would end our relationship for good. Jorge had to believe this time I was serious.
I had been avoiding Kenny the whole week, eating lunch in an empty classroom, hiding outside between classes, even arriving at school every morning so fucking early I was sure I wouldn't bump into him at our lockers. All that theater to make Jorge believe me. It was stupid to believe we wouldn't get caught. So damn stupid.
"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked. "I'm sure the faggot's mother would enjoy the movie."
I went closer, holding my phone out like it was some kind of weapon. His eyes were glued onto mine, but he didn't blink. I hated the way my brother looked at me, as if I was scum at the bottom of a pond.
I lowered my voice and said, "I'll send the message right now."
With a grimace like poison, he nodded. Feeling relieved, like a great weight was lifted from my shoulders, and feeling sad like the great weight had been put back, I taped the screen. Then I switched off the phone and put it back in my pocket. Bye Kenny, thanks for everything, and sorry.
I had done everything to keep my asshole brother from spreading the sex video, to save Kenny. Even though it was the right thing to do, I didn't expect a thank you card. Dark clouds filled my mind when I turned to walk to my car.
"I'm proud of you little bro," he shouted.
I didn't stop, didn't turn to look, but raised my right hand, my middle finger pointing up. Fuck you, asshole.
"Stop!" he commanded.
"What now? You got what you wanted."
I glared at him.
"I didn't send the video, which means you owe me a favor."
"You have got to be kidding."
He might have forgotten a long time ago how to do it, or then he was just too stupid to do it, or whatever the reason was, his face didn't look like he was joking. Not sure if I really wanted to know what the favor was, I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Okay, what is it?" I asked.
"I'll tell you soon."
"Great. I can hardly wait."
He gathered something in his mouth and spat out a huge lump. The arrogant smirk didn't disappear from his face when he patted me on my shoulder, turned around, and walked into the darkness.
The scrunched blanket between my legs was partly on the floor, as I rolled over. I was still sleeping, but the alarm clock shrieked and woke me up. I felt like I hadn't slept. At least not much.
I wished I could wrap my arms around Kenny, wait until he turned on his side, run my fingers down his chest and belly, and ever farther, but he wans't here. I lay alone on the big bed, which was even bigger, and emptier, and lonelier today. No one would giggle if I tickled, no one would kiss back if I kissed first. It was just me and my fucking morning wood.
He would've told me twice already to hurry up or I'll be late for school.
The thought caused a sad smile to appear on my face. I stood up and dressed in my jeans, trying furiously to forget they were his favorite. I put on the shirt which smelled least of him and dragged myself to the kitchen, not looking at the chair he used to sit on.
"Good morning, sunshine," Jorge greeted me with a cheerful smile.
It was far better to keep my mouth shut, so I took a cup and poured coffee into it. The asshole might have won the battle, even the war, but he would not get the satisfaction of me showing my anger and desperation. Pushing Kenny out of my mind, I sat at the table and took a blueberry muffin from the basket, before I was pulled back to the agonizing reality.
"How's Kenny doing? I haven't seen him here lately," dad asked.
"We broke up," I said.
My tone sounded nonchalant, like it didn't matter.
"Oh. What a pity. I liked him."
"I didn't."
Jorge chuckled, nearly spitting coffee out of his mouth. Our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, I recognized something brotherly there, something there had been between us when I had been a kid and looked up to my older brother, something warm and soft, but then the moment was gone, and I saw an asshole laughing at my joke. His smile vanished, and we both turned our faces.
"Is he living with his mom?" dad asked. "She seemed quite…"
"Quite a bitch!"
A flash of guil t swept through my mind, but I pushed it away. What choice did I have? It was Jorge who forced Kenny to move in with the wicked witch.
"Should you go and check if everything is okay?
Of course I should. That was fucking obvious. I opened my mouth and was about to blurt out something stupid when I realized Jorge was studying me.
"I don't give a shit how he's doing," I said.
It was a lie, a big fat lie, but from the corner of my eye, I noticed he had bought it. At least I hoped so, because if he didn't, me and Kenny would soon be movie stars. I had to cancel the premiere and bury the evidence so deep that nobody could ever find it, but before that, I had to talk to Kenny.
For once, fortune was on my side. As soon as Jorge finished his breakfast, he moved his fat, lazy ass to the hallway. Without saying where he was going, he walked out of the door. I rushed to my room and saw the back lights of his car disappear behind the trees and other houses. Patiently, I waited for another fifteen minutes, but I didn't see the car or my brother. It was now or never.
I turned and cast a sad look at the folded blanket in the corner. Kenny had slept under it, the same boy I had dumped the previous day without any reason, wondering how he would react when I appeared at his front door. I took my car keys and marched to the front door.
Let's sort this out before Jorge comes back.
Before I knew it, I was outside Kenny's house. My fingers squeezed the steering wheel while I stared at the front door. The door didn't bring many good memories to the surface. While I jogged up the door, I thought about the only happy memory, the one where we shared our first kiss.
I knocked on the door, and to my dismay, it was Ms. Sherman who answered the door. Her nose wrinkled like she had sniffed something sour. It was no surprise to anybody what stank on her porch.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I need to talk to Kenny."
"I'm afraid he's not home."
Her gaze measured me, fluttering down to my muddy shoes.
"Do you know when he'll…"
"Kenny isn't… like you." Her lips tightened into a thin line. "You need to stop hoping for something to happen between you two."
What the fuck was she talking about? The last time I checked, and that was in the bathroom at the movie theater, he was exactly like me. and there was definitely something between us, at least there had been before my idiot brother ruined everything. And that was the very reason I had to talk to him right now.
"Kenny has priorities, a future to prepare for," she said. "He's working very hard. I suggest you get your lifestyle on track and do the same."
"But…"
"Don't bother visiting him again."
She closed the door in my face.
Fucking bitch!
After a few deep breaths, I jumped over to the garage door and peered in the tiny window. His car was gone, so she probably hadn't lied about him not being home. I walked back to my car, pondering whether I should wait until he came back. The bitch wouldn't be fascinated by the idea, but I didn't give a shit. I leaned against the seat with a smirk on my face.
I had waited maybe ten minutes when my phone beeped, indicating that I had received a message. It was from Jorge. I looked around to see if the asshole was somewhere nearby watching me. He wasn't, and I opened the message.
'Be ready at midnight.'
Not wanting to know what it meant, I drove back home. There were several hours before midnight, but the clock was ticking. I could sense it in my bones.
Where the hell are you?
I sat in my car and checked the time on my phone for the third time. It was half past midnight. Jorge had left ten minutes ago, but in the darkness of the night, it felt longer. Much longer.
We had driven to Parsons, about thirty miles northwest of home, before he asked me to stop and hopped out of the car. And now, I was here alone, watching through the windshield, waiting for my dumbass brother. I had no fucking clue what we were doing here, and I wasn't even sure I wanted to know.
A gust of wind blew through the alleyway, pushing the stench of the trash right in my face. I rolled up the window and pulled the neck of my shirt over my nose, hoping we could leave this god forsaken rat hole. A black car, it's headlights off, drove past, but he was still somewhere doing something. I sighed and let go of the steering wheel.
A few minutes later, another car approached behind me. it slowed down and the angry spotlights on it's roof illuminated the alley my car, 'the fagmobil' as my idiot brother still called it. Instinctively, I crouched on the seat and waited until the truck and it's massive wheels disappeared behind the corner. The infernal sound of the engine thundered on the eerie streets, echoing from the abandoned buildings.
After what felt like forever, the sound of a door slamming shut awakened me. I snapped my head up and saw Jorge rushing toward the car, carrying a back pack large enough to fit half a dozen college textbooks. Not that my brother had been attending a lecture at this time of day, or any other in his life.
"Where the hell have you been?" I shouted as soon as he sat down.
"Shut up!"
"I waited here for fucking ever."
"Stop crying, sissy boy, and drive."
I just sat there, taking it all in.
"Are you deaf or just stupid?" he barked, reaching over and forcefully turning the key in the ignition. "We have to get out of here, now!"
I backed up, and in an instant, we were speeding along the dark street. My sweaty hands turned the wheel while he kept shouting directions until we reached the back of an old factory. The tires raised a thick cloud of dust as I tried to navigate on the dry gravel, which was full of sharp holes, metal bars, and rocks big enough to break the car.
"Have you seen him?" he asked.
"Who?"
"Don't be a retard. That little gay nerd."
"No," I said. "I dumped him. You saw the text I sent him."
He slapped me on the shoulder.
"Good boy. I always knew my brother wasn't a faggot."
My lips flattened, and I squeezed the steering wheel. I wanted to tell him that I was as gay as Kenny, and I would once I got the goddamn video in my hands. Hopefully Kenny would understand. He had too. The harder I wished for it, the less likely it seemed.
He deserves someone better.
"Why the hell are we going this way?" I asked.
Before he managed to answer, we heard the sirens of a police car a few blocks behind us. My brain processed the situation, while my eyes were furiously searching for a hole in the tall iron fence. He pointed to the corner and told me to speed up.
"What the hell. There's a trench behind the fence!"
I hit the brakes.
"Idiot! Drive faster."
"What? You seriously think this car can jump?"
One glance at my brother was enough to convince me that was exactly what he meant. With a heavy sigh, I turned the car and drove slowly closer to the abandoned building. The sound of the sirens got stronger, and we saw the reflection of the red and blue lights.
"Turn off the lights," he said when the front of the car was pointing again toward the hole in the fence.
"Yeah, and I can drive with my eyes closed, too."
I switched off the headlights, pressed the gas pedal, and hoped for the best. The car approached the trench at the same time that the two police cars drove to the back of the building. The officers must have seen us driving through the hole in the fence. I pressed myself harder against the seat as the car hit the pile of sand and gravel at the edge of the trench.
Holy fuck!
I opened my eyes only when the front tires touched the soft ground on the other side. The back tires dropped to the pit, but we had enough speed for the car to slide over it with a sound that must have woken half the town. Not believing what had just happened, I turned the wheel and realized the engine was still running.
The car seemed different, like it had been damaged in the jump, but I managed to drive back to the road. The air was thick with the sound of sirens and flashing lights as I turned down a smaller side road.
"Pull over," he ordered.
Without protesting, I obeyed and eased the car over to the curb in front of an old apartment building. There were a few other cars parked by the road. All the lights in the building were off, except in an upstairs room. I was about to open the door, but he grabbed my hand and gestured for me to bend down.
Three police cruisers roared past us.
"They are after us, aren't they?" I whispered.
"You always were a genius."
"I don't want to know what you just did, but this is the first and last time I'll help you."
He sneered. He unzipped his backpack, took out a bundle of crisp fifty-dollar bills, and shoved one bill into my hand.
"First maybe," he said, "but not the last."
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