Max’s Freudian Slip #42

by craigpwriter888@tutanota.com & J

Author’s notes: 

In our last chapter, Craig found out why Noah was so out of sorts. While at his girlfriend’s house, Chad, the man who practically raped Max showed Noah a video he found online of Noah jerking off and tried to blackmail into meeting him for sex. (He got catfished when he was naïve).

The next day Craig is at work…

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Chapter 42

I was enjoying a quiet Monday when my phone buzzed. It’s Stacy.

“Good afternoon,” I answered happily.

“Oh, I wish.” Shit, she’s crying. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my own tone more urgent. 

“The school just called. Max has been in some sort of incident.”

“‘Incident’?”

“Some other boy intentionally threw a forearm at his face while playing flag-football, and yelled some homophobic slurs. He’s being targeted for being gay, and it’s possible his nose might be broken.”

“What the hell? He’s being assaulted now?” I asked, my anger palpable. I can feel my blood pressure rising. “What the fuck is going on at that school?” First the harassment at the dance, then the ridiculously bigoted administrator. Next there were the intimidating posters put on his locker, and now this?

“I know. I’m heading there in a few minutes. I was wondering if —”

“I’ll meet you there.” 

“Thanks. You were so good last time dealing with Mrs. Bach. I know she’s gone, but some backup would still be nice. I’m not sure what to expect, and two heads might be better than one.”

“Well, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. I’m fucking livid.”

Stacy’s slight laugh confirmed she’s just as angry. “Maybe we can keep each other out of trouble.”

“See you in a bit. Wait for me in the lot and we’ll go in together.”

***

The drive was a blur. I’m pretty sure I obeyed traffic laws, but I’m seething. The route from my office to Olympia is normally about 20 minutes, and I made it in less than 15.

I pulled in right next to Stacy. She didn’t notice, focused instead on fixing her makeup. Obviously she doesn’t want Max to see she’s been crying.

As I waited for her to finish, I studied her Sonata. It won’t be long before Max begins learning how to drive. Hell, his voice will start changing soon. It could be a few short months before he’ll become taller than Stacy — and maybe even me. I know it wouldn’t be good for him even if it were possible, but selfishly, I can’t help but wish I could pause things how they are now, and keep Max in this sweet spot of his boyhood.

For the first time, I noticed her bumper stickers. I guess I’ve never paid attention or driven behind her. Olympia honor roll. Max’s gym and team logo. Those stick figures showing a family, of just a woman and boy. I wonder if that ever included his father. Everything is about Max. She really is a dedicated mother.

As she exited and noticed me, she looked startled. I guess she didn’t expect me to be waiting directly outside her vehicle.

“You made it in record time,” she said. “Sorry I didn’t notice you sooner. I didn’t want to look like a mess.”

“I get it. Kim does the same thing after she’s been upset.”

“I'm just so worried about him. That wasn’t the worst phone call a parent can get, but it’s up there,” she said, grimacing. “But I need to keep it together for Max. He needs an advocate, not someone weepy.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “It’s good for Max to see genuine displays of emotion, but agreed. It’s important to project strength and be level-headed, especially if he’s upset and needs to lean on us.”

***

As we signed in and affixed our visitor stickers, a familiar and friendly voice greeted us.

“Hello Ms. Coleman, Mr. Peters. It’s nice to see you again, although I wish it were under better circumstances,” Mr. Tim said, extending his hand.

“At this point, you seem to have my number on speed dial, so you might as well call me Stacy,” she said, laughing nervously.

“Yes, please call me Craig,” I said, shaking his hand. “And don’t hesitate to call or email if you can’t get a hold of Stacy for some reason.”

Stacy nodded. “Absolutely. Craig has basically become Max’s surrogate father, so whatever you need to tell me, you can share with him as well,” she stated. “If Max ever loses his mind and is being a pill, just tell him you’ll call Craig and he’ll straighten right up.”

Stacy’s comment surprised me. It’s generally true, and I guess from her perspective I do have an ability to reach Max in a way she can’t always. It’s such a fine line, leveraging my influence to help steer Max, without stepping on her toes — or arousing suspicion. I’m gratified, if slightly taken aback that she just gave the school carte blanche to include me.

Tim smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Honestly, Max never gives me, or anyone else for that matter, a hard time. Even if he has a rare lapse in judgment, it’s always minor and easily correctable. You’ve raised a very polite, respectful, and hard-working young man,” he said. “I’m hoping to draft him into service as an office aide next semester, with your permission of course.”

Stacy beamed. Good job, Tim. She needed that. I can see why Max likes him so much. He reads situations and knows just what to say to ease tension and make you feel better.

“Anyway, I know you want to see Max, so please follow me. He’s just finishing up with Noah.” Wait, what?

Sure enough, we passed Noah in the corridor to the conference room. He’s wearing a wide grin.

“Hi Stacy. Hey Craig,” he said enthusiastically. He gave Stacy a side hug before offering me his fist. “Max is okay. They didn’t want to let me see him, but I was adamant, so Mr. Tim brought me back for a minute.” He is quite pleased with himself for forcing the issue and managing to get his way. 

Knowing the full details of their falling out, this seems like a very good sign. Considering Tim is also aware of their tension, the fact that he bent the rules isn’t lost on me. 

“Thanks for checking on him.”

***

As soon as we crossed the threshold, Stacy rushed toward Max and gave him a hug. She stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head.

“Well, it doesn’t look as bad as I thought it might. How are you feeling?”

It’s obvious he’s going to have a black eye, but that beats the hell out of nose surgery. 

“I’m okay. Everyone is making a big deal, but I just want to go back to class. He’s a jerk, but it’s not like I was sent to the hospital or anything,” he said, trying to minimize the situation. Max never likes being pitied or the center of attention.

“Sheer luck. It could have easily turned out differently,” I replied, grabbing his face to check him more closely. Thankfully, nothing looks broken. There’s some minor swelling of his nose and eyes, but nothing is bent. Max smiled and gave me a hug as well.

*** 

Tim left us, and we sat quietly for a few minutes. Stacy rubbed Max’s back while he leaned his head against me. Honestly though, he’s in better spirits than I anticipated and is definitely less fazed than I thought he would be. Whether that’s resiliency or a lack of processing, I’m not sure. 

There was a knock at the door. Principal Johnson and Dr. Brenner — who introduced himself as the new assistant principal — walked into the conference room. He has to be better than who he replaced. Mrs. Bach was a raging, homophobic bitch.

After we exchanged pleasantries, I didn’t even wait for Stacy to begin before my frustration bubbled to the top. 

“What is going on in this school? It’s only September and Max has been victimized repeatedly for being gay. This is getting ridiculous,” I stated. “Can you keep him safe or not?”

My tone wasn’t confrontational, but it was sharp. The principal winced. Max looked incredulous. I can tell he thinks I’m being dramatic. 

“I have to agree. I’ve been understanding, but my patience is waning,” Stacy added. “Look at his face. This isn’t just words anymore.”

“I completely understand your frustration and concern. Frankly, as both an educator and father, I share it. What’s happening to Max is unacceptable,” Dr. Brenner responded. “I'm not going to condescend to you and guarantee nothing will ever happen again, because that isn’t in my control. What I can promise is the school is dedicated to doing everything in our power to prevent this harassment. You have my word I will continue to thoroughly address any bullying.”

He’s good. His words and tone brought my anger down a notch or two.

“I appreciate that, and I don’t doubt your intentions, but from our perspective this just continues to escalate,” I replied. “Honestly, some of the issues came from your predecessor.”

“Which was addressed swiftly,” Mr. Johnson interjected. “But I completely understand your position. You have every right to be upset. If we may, we’d like to walk you through today’s incident.”

They spent the next few minutes describing what happened. The kids were given free choice during PE, and Max decided to play flag football. Maybe tossing the old pigskin around this weekend encouraged him. Someone called him a fag and refused to play with him, and was sent packing.

“That was Liam. He kicked Dom off our team when he said that,” Max offered meekly. “He had my back.” I knew I liked Liam. Sure, he has a crush on Max, but he also seems like a very positive and stable influence.

Apparently, a few minutes into the game, the same boy launched into Max and threw his forearm right at his head. Max crumpled to the ground, blood went everywhere, and the boy yelled another slur and actually fucking spit on him. Thankfully, the PE teacher was right there and there was a plethora of witnesses.

Stacy rubbed Max’s arm. He was staring down at the table. Reliving the whole episode, in front of so many adults, is clearly uncomfortable for him.

“The other student was clearly motivated by prejudice when he targeted and assaulted Max,” Dr. Brenner summarized. “It is certainly your prerogative, Ms. Coleman, to press charges.”

Stacy looks unsure. “You don’t have to decide now,” I said.

“Correct. I understand it’s a lot to process right now, but if you decide to pursue that avenue, please let us know and we’ll contact the school resource officer.”

Max sat up and let out an audible sigh. “What the heck? It’s NOT that big a deal,” he insisted.

“The hell it isn’t,” I answered. “You could have been seriously hurt.” I pivoted toward Stacy. “I’m not encouraging you one way or the other, but considering how many schools don’t want to suspend students anymore, the juvenile justice system might hold this delinquent more accountable.”

The principal bristled. “While it is true there is a movement across the country to reduce suspensions and improve equity by encouraging restorative practices, and MPS is engaged in these reforms, there are still exclusionary mechanisms available,” he explained. “I can assure you that District administrators are supportive of the more… traditional consequences the school has assigned to the offending student.”

“I’m happy to hear that. My friends who are teachers talk often about how bad decorum has become and how discipline doesn’t happen in some schools.”

“I can’t speak for any other school, but at Olympia, we hold our students, and staff, accountable,” Mr. Johnson responded. He paused and looked at Dr. Brenner before continuing. “Because of FERPA, we can’t get into specifics about another student’s discipline, but I will say that Max is… unlikely to run into his assailant again at Olympia. However, considering the nature of the offense, Max will have the opportunity to change schools if you believe that would be in his best interest.”

He slid over a piece of paper. “This letter explains the process. Essentially, students who have been victimized in certain manners, especially repeatedly, are given the option to enroll at another school.”

Max, who has sat there silently, adamantly stated he will not go to a new school.

“I’m confused why the victim would change schools, and not the guilty party,” Stacy replied. Good for her.

Dr. Brenner nodded. “I understand. It’s how the law is written. We certainly don’t want to lose Max as a student, but we’re dedicated to improving his situation. This is one tool some families find helpful,” he said. “As Mr. Johnson mentioned, it’s unlikely Max will face this student again.”

Before Stacy or I could reply, Tim interrupted. “Max, has the person who hassled you at the Spartan Night done or said anything since then?”

“No sir. Brady has left me alone. A couple of his friends called me names the week after it happened, but nothing since.”

“Good. Do you feel unsafe at school?”

“No, not really. I know I can come to you or Dr. B if I have a problem, and I have friends who look out for me.”

Tim smiled. “And Mrs. Hickman, amongst others.” He’s making a point.

“Is it true Dom put the posters on my locker?” Max asked out of nowhere. “Apparently, that’s what everyone is saying.”

The administrators shifted uncomfortably, but Tim didn’t miss a beat. “As has been alluded to, there is a pattern to your mistreatment and the school is responding with progressive discipline to ensure it stops.”

Ah, there we go. Stacy and I both read through the lines. Tim sliced through the platitudes, potentially at risk of speaking out of turn.

“So, the same kid who hurt Max today also put the threatening, homophobic stuff on his locker?” Stacy asked pointedly. “And you didn’t think that was relevant to share?”

“Yeah, that seems like burying the lede.” I added, annoyed.

Mr. Johnson shook his head. “I apologize. Our intention was never to withhold. We were getting there. We are under legal obligations to maintain confidentiality for all students, which makes certain disclosures a fine line,” he explained. “However, in this instance, the other boy’s parents are very much dismayed by their son’s repeatedly hateful behavior.”

“In fact, they asked us to pass along their contact information so they can apologize to you directly, if you’re comfortable reaching out. They also offered to pay any medical bills should you decide to take Max to the doctor to be checked.” Dr. Brenner handed Stacy an orange sticky-note with a phone number scribbled on it.

“I don’t need to go to the doctor!” Max practically yelled. “I just want to go to class. Please?”

“Sorry sweetie. I’m not sure about the doctor, or even school tomorrow, but I am taking you home today.”

Max sunk further into his chair and folded his arms. That is a sure sign we’ve entered the danger zone. 

I patted his shoulder, and thankfully, his body immediately relaxed.

“Yes ma’am,” he said softly, resigned to not getting his way.

“Come on Max, I’ll walk you to your locker to collect your things,” Tim offered, before turning to face Stacy and handing her two forms. “Since you mentioned wanting to elevate Mr. Peters’ level of permissions, this is the paperwork to make him a primary contact, instead of just an emergency contact. The other is the office aide permission slip.”

Max smiled and cheerfully left the conference room. Damn, the difference 30 seconds can make. 

***

Stacy filled out the forms while we waited, and Dr. Brenner handed us both a business card. He reiterated how impressed he is with Max’s handling of everything, and encouraged us to reach out anytime we have a concern.

Tim walked us out the door. I asked if he had a free moment, and Max stopped by the flagpole to give me a hug before departing. “Thanks for being here.”

I squeezed him back. “Of course. You’re my boy. Be good for your mom and I’ll check on you later.”

As Stacy and Max walked away, I engaged Tim.

“Thank you for always looking out for Max. He speaks very highly of you,” I said. “He needs positive male role models, and I know Stacy is grateful for your influence as well.”

“He's a great kid. I’m glad I’ve been able to get to know him better, even if the reasons why are unfortunate,” Tim replied. 

“He really is, but I’m seeing more and more the number his father did on him. Between us, he’s been going through some things, and I’m relieved he has an adult at school he trusts,” I shared. I’m not going to get into specifics, but subtly confirming what Tim must already suspect will improve our rapport. “And I appreciate that you let Noah see him. He mentioned confiding in you last week about them feuding. I know it meant a lot to both of them for you to bend the rules.”

Tim put up his hand, waving me off as if it were nothing. “Considering the circumstances, it was the right thing to do. It was heartening to see Noah so adamant, even if he was slightly out-of-line with the office staff. Max completely lit up when he realized Noah was checking on him. After so much ugliness, witnessing that made my day,” he said. “Last week was stressful for them both.”

“Yes it was. They’ve both been stubborn and petty but are working through things,” I began, before stopping myself and changing the subject. “For whatever it’s worth, I saw what you did. You empowered Max to find his voice, and helped the principal to disclose the complete truth.”

Tim had a slight smirk. “I’m sure it would have come up. Max asked the question.”

“Maybe, but you set it up and cut through the bureaucratic obfuscation,” I stated. “When you took Max to his locker, we reiterated that you’re the only reason things aren’t becoming more contentious. Hopefully it’ll help, in case they’re annoyed.”

He shrugged. “I appreciate that, but I’m not worried. My conscience is clean.”

As it should be.

“To return the compliment, Max sings your praises as well. He’s lucky to have you in his corner. Not many people who would step up like you have, when he needs it most,” Tim said. “So many kids are unmoored at this age, and without a stable father figure, it is usually exacerbated.”

“I’m sure you see the whole gamut.”

Tim nodded. “It can be very disconcerting, but Max is a bright spot. He has occasional moments, as all kids do, but he’s a tremendous role model who has massive leadership potential. He’s faced adversity even many adults can’t fathom, and handled it with dignity and grace.”

If he only knew the full breadth. Chad would break his heart. Hell, so would I. I felt that tinge of shame wash over me again. 

“Well, for whatever it’s worth, thank you for what you’re doing,” I said. “And like I said, please let me know if Max is ever moody or disrespectful. We’re actively working on improving his impulse control and tendency to lash out when he’s angry.” I thought about mentioning his return to therapy, but decided it wasn’t my place. If Max wants to share with Tim, he can.

“Let me know if I can reinforce anything at school,” he offered. We shook hands and parted ways.

I’ve wondered whether Tim might share my proclivities. He connects with Max so effortlessly, and has shown considerable interest in and given copious attention to him, a very attractive gay boy. Plus, he’s single, or at least wears no ring. Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

I pushed the thought from my mind. If we assume anyone who has a way with kids is a perv, every good coach and teacher would be suspect. I think he’s just a kind man and dedicated educator who is adept at reading his students and sees the intangible qualities in Max we all do.

***

I took the opportunity to run a couple errands before heading home. When I finally arrived, Noah was outside idly shooting baskets. He immediately jogged towards me. Basketball was his excuse to be outside when I pulled in.

I parked and came back outside to greet him. “How’s Max?” he anxiously asked. The concern in his voice is noticeable.

“He’s okay, all things considered. He’s more embarrassed than anything. You know he doesn’t like to be the center of attention.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Everyone is talking about how he’s a victim of a hate crime and Dom got taken out in handcuffs.”

I chuckled. “I don’t think that’s accurate. I’m pretty sure the other boy was sent home with his parents. Stacy and Max might press charges, but chose not to — for now.”

“Oh,” he replied, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I remember how gossip went into overdrive in junior high. “I’m sure the rumor mill will move onto something else soon enough,” I said. “I hear you rudely barged your way through the office to check on him.” I don’t abide by Noah treating anyone badly, but I appreciate his willingness to be there for Max. 

Noah blushed and looked away sheepishly. “I don’t think I was that disrespectful… but I still apologized on my way out,” he answered. “I had to make sure he was okay. I was worried about him and no one was going to stop me.”

Hell yes, that’s my boy! “So, I assume that means you and Max are friends again?”

“Yes. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk, though. The office ladies were being bitchy and Mr. Tim only gave me like two minutes,” Noah explained. “But I'm not mad anymore, if that’s what you’re asking. We hugged it out.”

Of course they did. They’re too close to squabble long. “Good, neither is he. It’s funny how a crisis can put things in perspective and remind you of what’s important, huh?” I asked. Noah nodded. “I’m sure, once you have time to explain some of what you shared yesterday, he’ll understand why you were so out of sorts.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know when we’ll be able to. I’m not bringing it up at school.”

I thought for a minute. I considered contacting Mr. Tim and asking him to facilitate a palaver. But the truth is, discussing it at school just isn’t wise. Someone could overhear. Besides, I have a better idea.

I take Max to practice on Thursdays. Maybe he can come home with Noah? I’ll tell his mom I’ll be running late — which is conceivable. Who knows how long Chad’s smackdown will take.

“How about you have Max come to your house after school on Thursday? It will save me a stop. He’s technically grounded, but I don’t think an hour furlough sends the wrong message.” 

“Really?” his eyes glistened with excitement. “But that’s three days from now. Can’t we do it sooner?” Noah doesn’t whine often, but I swear he batted his eyelashes at me. 

I paused. I wonder whether Stacy will push back. After all, he is on restriction.

“I’ll promise to supervise him and make sure he doesn’t do anything too fun,” Noah offered, giggling. I’m not sure if he thinks he’s making a joke or if he’s alluding to what they might do alone. “Really though, I just want to talk and tell him about stuff. Honest.”

“I’ll call them later. I’m sure it will be okay, provided Max is at school tomorrow.” I doubt it will take much selling with Stacy, but I’ll manage either way.

***

I spent much of the evening discussing the events at school. After Noah, I informed Kim — who, while absolutely appalled, is relieved the school appears to be handling things better than the S.N.O. incident.

I spoke with Bob as well. I texted him a brief summary and he called immediately, wanting details. He’s thankful that, thus far, Cam hasn’t had to deal with anything like that at Widmer. I didn’t say it, but I wonder if Cam is getting more flak than Bob realizes. Cam is totally the type to keep it to himself and has been raised to be self-sufficient and handle problems. Unless things deteriorated significantly, I have doubts he’d volunteer anything. I wonder if I should press him. He may not volunteer information, but I doubt he’d lie if directly asked.

Finally, I checked in with Stacy. She reports Max appears fine, though there is increased swelling under his eye. So far it hasn’t blackened. I’m sure Max finds it overbearing, but she’s insisting he keep an ice pack on it.

I broached the idea of Max coming home with Noah the next day, suggesting they need an opportunity to really talk, in private — especially after fighting for over a week. I even relayed how Noah insisted he would ensure Max won’t “have too much fun,” which caused her to laugh. I’m sure when I said that, she pictured them playing video games. Whether it’s my attractions or knowledge of what they actually get up to, my mind went somewhere else.

In any event, she agreed.

***

After the drama of the day before, I was perfectly content to have an uneventful Tuesday. It was low key and productive.

That afternoon, as I pulled into my cul-de-sac, I spotted Max and Noah sitting with a basketball between them, but it was clear they hadn’t been playing much. They both stood when they saw my car. 

I waved as I checked the mail. They both appear to be in great spirits, smiling and laughing. I inspected Max’s face. It actually looks much better than I expected. His eye is puffy and there is some bruising, but it’s not a full-fledged shiner. 

“How was school?”

“Good,” Max answered. “No problems.”

“You should have seen it,” Noah said, groaning. “All the girls feel sorry for him and are being so extra.” He adopted his best girl voice. “Oh Max, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was soworried about you.”

I laughed. “Sounds horrible. And since you’re gay, you can’t even benefit from all that extra attention.”

“It is! See, you get it. Now, if it were cute boys hanging off me, it might be less annoying,” Max said. Noah just shook his head.

“I hope Mariah wasn’t too much.”

“Actually, she’s chilled. She asked if I was okay, but left it at that.”

I ruffled Max’s hair. “Good. We don’t need her and Cam having a cat fight over your affections.”

Noah snorted. “I’m almost positive Cam is a hair puller. And Mariah would definitely kick him in the nuts.”

Max rolled his eyes but laughed. It’s so nice to see them both happy and joking again.

“So, any chance you would take us to get a smoothie or something?” Noah asked. “We have time before Max has practice, right? I got money.”

Of course I agreed, although I never let him pay. “Noah Andrew, you know very well that your money’s no good. In celebration of the fact you are talking to each other again, I’ll treat.”

***


I waited until we were alone and on the way to practice before I asked if Noah shared about Chad creeping on him. 

“Yeah, the bastard,” Max replied, shaking his head. “I can’t believe him.”

“I can.” I gripped the steering wheel in frustration, envisioning it’s Chad’s neck.

“Well, yeah, I can too. But you know what I mean.”

“Yes. And I’ve already made sure Chad’s attempted blackmailing of Noah is included in his upcoming meeting. Only two more days.”

“I remember,” was all he said, and very stoically. 

“I promise to tell you all about it. You're riding the bus home with Noah again, right?”

***

I found it hard to concentrate at work Thursday morning. I’m so looking forward to witnessing Chad’s dressing down that it’s impossible to focus. The anticipation reminds me of Christmas when I was a boy. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve been this excited for something in a long time. Well, okay, I might have been this juiced before Max and I left for Mexico (and that was before I knew what it would morph into).

I’m meeting Bob for lunch near the private investigator’s office. I finally said “fuck it” and left work at 11. I texted Bob and told him I would be at the restaurant early if he wanted to join me. 

I was on my second beer when he saddled up next me at the bar. “Everything still a go?” I asked nervously.

“Yes. We need to get there by one so we’re in place,” he replied. “Relax, this is going to be glorious.” I can tell by the look on his face that he’s just as excited.

***

Bob’s ‘guys’ were nothing like I imagined. I guess I assumed they’d be these massive, muscular men nobody would fuck with. Not so much.

Raymond, the owner of the agency, was a slender, older gentleman with gray hair, a large nose, and bushy sideburns. He reminded me of Abe Vigoda from that cop show my parents watched when I was little. His shirt was wrinkled and his tie slightly askew, but he spoke with authority and confidence. He retired from the police force (homicide detective) at 51 and started a career in the private sector. 

Raymond oversaw “Operation Catamite” as he put it, but credited his associate Anton for doing most of the leg work. Bob smirked slightly at the characterization, although I find it a little too cutesy.

“Ah, here he is, the brains of the operation. Anton is an expert in all matters cyber-related,” he said as Anton walked in. 

Anton didn’t even try to look polished. He wore jeans and a Yoda t-shirt, and is in desperate need of a haircut. “Hey,” he said nervously. “Is there anything you need from me?”

“No, we’re in good shape. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Anton made a quick exit. People are definitely not his thing.

“That kid’s a genius,” Raymond explained. “He can hack even well-protected hard drives. And he has a real knack for pretending to be a teenager, boy or girl.”

“Sounds like he earns his keep,” Bob quipped. 

“More than you could ever imagine,” Raymond said, smiling. “Now, about Chad. This is the room where we will lay out everything. You’ll notice the cameras tucked away in the corner. They’ll be rolling the entire time. You can monitor the feed in my office down the hall.”

Bob and I nodded. The cameras are inconspicuous. He won’t suspect a thing. 

“I suppose this isn’t your first time doing something like this?” I asked.

“Oh no, we’ve done a few. This one is special, though. I’ve not met someone this repulsive in a while. His sins cover the gamut. He’s a true piece of shit,” he explained before taking a sip of coffee. “I’ve put murderers away who I loathe less than Chad Marlow.”

“What if he decides to bolt?” Bob asked.

“He won’t. Carl!” he yelled. A large, well-dressed man entered the room. Ah, there’s the muscle. 

“Carl will be watching the door, which my secretary will lock once we’ve entered.” Carl stepped to the side and pulled back his jacket. He’s packing. 

“Would you like to see the presentation now, or let it be a surprise? I think you’ll be impressed.”

Bob and I exchanged glances. We are on the same wavelength. “Surprise,” we say in unison.

***

Raymond escorted us to his office. A large, wall-mounted TV was already broadcasting the feed. The picture was partitioned, with two windows streaming the cameras.

Raymond pointed to a larger, blank window on the screen. “This is where you’ll be able to see the slides from our presentation.”

“Great,” Bob answered. “This is incredible.”

“I have no idea how it works. More of Anton’s genius.” Raymond grabbed the TV remote and turned up the volume. “If you need to adjust it once we begin, it’s normal controls. Point and click, and if you need anything, just press the top button here and it’ll buzz my assistant,” he said, pointing to a box on his desk. “I’m going to head back to the conference room. I’ll do a sound check and wait there for the perv.”

I scanned the office. Numerous awards from Raymond’s days in law enforcement were on display, as well as pictures of his family. On the TV, we could see Raymond take his place back at the large table. “Testing, testing, one-two,” he called out. It came through loud and clear. 

Bob and I barely spoke. We’re both full of nervous anticipation, fiddling with our phones until we heard Raymond’s secretary inform him that his “client” had arrived.

“Hmmmph,” Bob laughed. “‘Client.’ That’s rich.”

***

Raymond disappeared and, a few moments later, returned with Chad. He’s well dressed, wearing slacks, a nice shirt, and a sport coat. Definitely not someone you’d peg as a creep if you saw him walking down the street.

“I didn’t know you were a PI,” Chad commented as they came into frame. “I should probably stay on your good side,” he remarked, laughing at his own joke.

I’m surprised Raymond kept a straight face. He quickly explained to Chad how he retired from the force and started his own firm. 

“I bet it’s more lucrative than police work,” Chad suggested. 

“Indeed. And every bit as busy,” Raymond replied.

“So that’s why you’re unloading your rental properties? Too busy investigating to keep up with them?” 

“Something like that.”

“Well, I’m happy to help. I can get them sold. I’m consistently in the top 10 in sales volume for the metro area.”

“I’m well aware, Mr. Marlow. I thoroughly investigate anyone I plan to hire.”

“Oh?” Chad asked. You could tell he was somewhat taken aback.

“Have a seat. Do you need something to drink? Water? Coffee? Scotch?” 

“No, I’m good,” Chad answered.

“I bet he’ll wish he had accepted that offer of a stiff drink,” Bob joked.

“Well then, let’s get started,” Raymond said as Chad took a seat. “I’ll be frank. I have no houses to sell.”

“Huh?” Chad asked, raising his hands as to ask ‘what the fuck am I doing here?’

“We’ve been hired to investigate YOU, Mr. Marlow.” I love the way he continues to call him Mr. Marlow, instead of Chad. It’s like he’s giving him all the respect, just before he tears him to shreds.

“What? Who put you up to this? Was it my wife?”

“No, Angela is unaware of our project. Though, she might be keenly interested in some of what we discovered,” he stated calmly. “We were commissioned by a third-party, whose acquaintance you have not made.”

“Who?” Chad demanded. “This is outrageous. My lawyer is going to eat you alive, getting me here under false pretenses to slander me.” 

“I think that will be clear soon enough. Let’s begin.” Raymond is nonplussed, ignoring his threat.

Chad let out a heavy sigh. He’s clearly annoyed.

The first slide read: “Chad Marlow is… an adulterer.”

“That’s hardly unusual,” Chad said flippantly. “Besides, we have an open marriage.”

Bob snorted derisively. “I wonder if his open marriage includes middle school boys.”

“I see. Is that why you thought your wife hired us?” Raymond replied, perplexed. 

Chad shifted in his chair, rotating it side to side as Raymond continued. “It seems you like to keep several women on the side. You’ve met Sharice and Rebecca from your office at hotels.”

Raymond showed pictures of Chad and one of the women entering a room.

“We have receipts. Look.” He clicked the remote. 

“You’re also quite flirty with a young woman named Lindsay.” The presentation slowly scrolled through multiple text messages with her, before moving on. “Sharice seems to be impressed with your manhood.” Her exchange on-screen mentioned loving how deep she could feel Chad’s “massive cock.” 

“Too bad he can’t get fucked in the ass by a big one himself,” I suggested. 

“I sure hope Raymond reminds him of that possibility, should he go to prison,” Bob added. “Rape is never okay — but the sentiment has some poetic justice, considering how malicious he was to a kid.”

“Where the hell did you get those?” Chad demanded. He’s definitely getting angrier. This is good, and it’s just the tip of the iceberg. 

“You need to work on your cyber-security,” Raymond said. “It took my expert less than a morning to download the entire contents of your devices, once you fell for his phishing email. He discovered a variety of interesting details. It took him a little longer to decode some of the messages, but here we are.”

“You can’t do that!” Chad argued. “It’s illegal — unless you have a warrant.”

Raymond shrugged. “As illegalities go, hacking your devices is a minor transgression. Should we let Angela in on how many side pieces you are enjoying in your, what was it, open marriage?”

“No!” Chad replied adamantly. “What the hell do you want?”

“Patience. I’ll get to that, eventually.” Raymond pressed the button and advanced to the next slide: ‘Chad Marlow… commits fraud’

“Now we’re getting into your more illicit activities,” Raymond said happily.

“Oh, NOW I get it!” Chad said. “That son-of-a-bitch Lance Gilbert hired you to drum up all this crap, didn’t he? He’s been trying to force me out of the brokerage for years.”

“I’m not aware of any Lance, so no, he is not our sponsor. Focus, Mr. Marlow,” Raymond stated. “Let’s touch briefly on your business dealings. These took a little more work, but we found multiple instances where you colluded with other agents to drive up the price of a sale, thus increasing your own commission. All when you should have acted in the best interest of your clients.”

“That’s hardly unusual, much less illegal!”

“Stop insulting my intelligence. Of course it’s against the law, so don’t act stupid,” Raymond said, finally showing contempt. “If you’re working solely as a buyer’s agent, it most certainly is a breach and you know it.”

Chad sighed. “Everyone does that.”

“Very good. The state licensing board will disagree, but they’ll prove that point to you directly, so let’s move on for now,” Raymond said authoritatively. It’s interesting how he’s pretending he’ll report him professionally, but I suppose that’s a tactic to maximize pressure. “The side pussy and shady business dealings are, quite honestly, the least of your concerns.”

Chad didn’t respond, just glared. The wheels are turning, but he’s stuck. 

“So, what do you want? I can’t believe any of this is worthy of your concern. And who the fuck hired you?” Chad demanded. He’s trying to be tough, to act like he’s still in control, but it’s becoming more and more apparent that he’s in over his head.

“Like I said,” Raymond replied, “in due time it will all be clear.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving. This whole charade is completely absurd.” Chad stood and made for the door, only to find it was locked. “You can’t fucking hold me against my will!”

“I can open the door for you,” Raymond answered. His voice is calm and supremely confident. “But first, tell me, which would you prefer to go to prison for? Would you rather it be for the illegal pornography on your phone? Or maybe for raping a barely 14-year-old boy? Or, perhaps, for soliciting a minor? That’s quite the trifecta. We could just go for the real estate fraud, but that’s not going to be nearly as salacious for the local media, nor as embarrassing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Chad shot back. “I’ve never had sex with a boy. I’m married to a woman. You’ve got the wrong guy.” 

“Hmm. Well, there’s a young man who would gladly testify otherwise. As would his friends.”

“What?” Chad asked incredulously, still playing dumb. His acting isn’t bad. I guess someone at his level of depravity and manipulation has to be skilled at maintaining a facade. Otherwise, the house of cards comes crashing down. 

“I don’t know what evidence was planted, but none of this is remotely true. I like to fuck women, remember?”

“Yeah, okay. You seem to be very equal opportunity when it comes to getting off,” Raymond replied calmly. “Including Max — the boy you had sex with at the Best Western a few weeks ago.” 

Raymond paused as Chad hesitated by the door. “You know,” he continued, “you might have been able to deny it… he said / she said and all that, but then you managed to incriminate yourself by reliving it on Snapchat.” Raymond shook his head in disgust. “Just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You don’t have to respond to that, by the way. I already know the answer, so it was meant rhetorically.”

Chad’s shoulders slumped. The true depth of his predicament is beginning to dawn on him. 

“Raymond is toying with him. You can tell reality is starting to set in. Look at how his facial expression has changed. He’s intimidated,” Bob remarked with a huge grin on his face. “This is worth every penny.”

“Yes, Mr. Marlow, you’re in a rather bad position. So, SIT THE FUCK down and we’ll review the dossier I’ve compiled. Then, if you aren’t a complete dick, I MIGHT offer a possible path that allows you to retain your freedom and dignity.”

“None of this is true… or at least NOT what you think!” Chad insisted, before finally settling back into his chair.

***

Raymond resumed his presentation. “Let’s move on to the underage porn you have on your phone,” he stated matter of factly. The new slide on the screen read “Chad Marlow… consumes child pornography.”

“Huh?” Chad replied. His voice has softened. 

“You know, the clip you showed your niece’s boyfriend of himself masturbating. The one you downloaded from the dark web. You must do a good job of hiding that stuff, because our expert didn’t come across anything like that on your hard drive. If he had, we might have just turned you in for that and called it a day.”

Chad slammed his hand on the table. I couldn’t make it out, but I’m pretty sure he muttered “Fuck!” to himself. He slowly regained some composure. 

“I don’t even know how to get on the dark web. I found that clip on a regular porn site. I only saved it to show him… so, you know, he would learn to be more careful.” He’s beginning to shake as he talks. He’s trying to keep cool, but you can see him slowly coming apart.

“Oh, so is that why you tried to use it as leverage to talk him into having sex with you? You threatened to provide it to his parents if he didn’t, isn’t that right?”

Chad looked stunned. He simply had no reply.

“If I were you, I’d get that off your phone and out of your cloud sooner rather than later.”

Chad swallowed hard. “Okay! Okay!” he answered. “Is that it?”

“No sir, that is NOT it. You know very well there is more. As I said earlier, don’t act stupid. It’s incredibly irritating.”

“Now what?”

“For starters, you raped an eighth grader.”

“I did not!”

Raymond, who has mostly maintained his cool, is showing signs of exasperation. “Max feels differently, and a jury will believe him. He makes quite the impression, but then, I think you know that better than most.”

For the first time, and to my great shock, Chad actually fucking smiled! 

“Look, I’ll level with you: the kid was horny and likes older guys. He came to me, wanted everything he got, and loved every minute of it.” A sly smirk came across his face, as if recalling his assault of Max is arousing for him.

I shot up from my chair. “That motherfucker!” I yelled. 

I’m not sure what I planned to do, but Bob stopped me before I could leave Raymond’s office. “Sit down,” he pleaded. “I want to bash his head against the table as much as anyone, but that’s not going to help in the long run. Trust this process.”

I’m fuming. The fact that he still seems to take pleasure in what he did to Max has me about to explode. 

“Is that so? I do understand Max agreed to meet you and was even willing to play a submissive role. But, he also says it was obvious he wasn’t enjoying things and was even in significant pain, but you didn’t let up. And then became downright degrading and truly sadistic,” Raymond spat.

Chad sat back further in his chair. “That’s what he wanted. That’s what a sub likes. He agreed to and enjoyed playing that role.”

“Even if that were true — and it is not — it is immaterial. Max could not legally consent to such activities. If he were 18 or 19, I’d grant you some leeway,” Raymond explained. “I am dumbfounded you still maintain that an inexperienced boy, barely 14, can agree to such treatment. I suppose you could try that defense to cast doubt on a forcible rape charge, but you’d still be admitting to having sex with a very underage boy. That doesn’t improve your prospects, and the criminal justice system takes a dim view of such arguments.”

“He isn’t inexperienced. You know what that kid gets up to? I hardly corrupted him.”

I’m getting a blood pressure-induced headache. “What a prick!” Bob put his hand on my shoulder.

“In addition to Max’s testimony, we have your recent Snapchat messages.”

Raymond paused briefly on the “Chad Marlow… has sex with underage boys” slide before moving on to grainy pictures of their Snapchat conversation.

“I get it! Enough! Just tell me what you want.”

“We’re almost there. I presume, at this point, you realize we know you also solicited — in quite graphic terms — Max’s even younger boyfriend. It was ballsy, requesting and then happily receiving a nude of him.”

Chad gave a slight nod, but didn’t say anything.

“I have to say, I’ve seen a lot in my career, but your desire to, what was it…” Raymond trailed off, looking at the file in front of him. “Ah, yes, you stated, ‘I bet he also has an adorable little ass to eat. I’d line you both up next to each other and go back and forth. But it will be fun watching him fill your mouth as I stuff your ass.’”

Bob’s eyes flickered. “That was galling.” I recalled his initial reaction to that particular tidbit — and my own guilt at having had similar fantasies, or at least understanding the appeal.

“Anyway, that was a new one for me. It paints quite the picture for a jury.”

Chad didn’t respond, but his face has turned bright red.

“So, with that being stipulated to, there’s just one more sin to cover.” Raymond flipped through several slides that focused on Chad soliciting Max and Cam before finally stopping on the final of Chad’s indiscretions: “Chad Marlow… covets his own 11-year-old son.”

“I do not!” Chad immediately protested.

“Your suggesting to Max that he should ‘show him the ropes’ and ‘break him in’ says differently. You actually said you’d have to use his anus for your pleasure, as his mouth is full of braces?” Yep, Raymond is fully contemptuous at this point. “How do you think your son would feel about such comments?”

“All talk. We were just having a horny conversation, I swear.”

“Normal fathers do not consider their sons as sexual objects available for their own gratification, Mr. Marlow,” Raymond yelled. “And you brought it up again to Max’s boyfriend, so it was not merely a passing, one-time thought. You followed it up by sending pictures of Brett in various states of disrobing. See, here is a picture of him in his underwear, which you admitted to downloading from his phone.” The slide changed to show the offending photograph.

“He looks like a sweet kid. Do you think he has any idea his dad is a total fucking creep with designs on his asshole?” Bob asked.

“I sure hope not. Talk about something that would mess with a kid’s head,” I responded.

“I’d never do that. It’s just kind of fun to talk about. It’s all fantasy!”

“Oh, I’m sure you wife would find it comforting you find it ‘fun’ to TALK about fucking your son in the ass.”

Chad spun his chair back and forth. “Can we wrap this up?”

“We’re almost there. I have a short video for you to watch, and then I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.”

Raymond advanced to the video of Max.

I’m watching Chad closely, to gauge his reaction, as Max reads his letter.

Chad, 

Hi. It’s Max. You know, that eighth grader you decided to take advantage of a few weeks ago.

Part of me wishes I could be there to see you squirm, like I did when you hurt me and just kept doing whatever felt good for you. Mostly though, I’m scared of you and don’t want to lose my shit again. Besides, my adopted dad won’t allow it. He always knows what’s best for me and loves me no matter what. You could learn a lot from him.

We both might have had a fun time when we met, but you took it way too far. I know I said I’m into being told what to do, which I guess I sorta am, but dude… come on. I’m a kid and the stuff you made me do, and the pleas you ignored, were too much. I even got in trouble at school because of you. You were so rough, I couldn’t sit in class.

Chad shook his head and laughed, which caused Raymond to pause the recording. 

I couldn’t believe what came out of Chad’s mouth. “What a pathetic little faggot. Boy needs to toughen up.”

Bob stopped me before, but this time I was out the door before he could even flinch. I was down the hall in a flash. It took me a second to figure out the lock, but I busted in, Carl rising from his desk and racing after me. He’s not fast enough.

Chad looked at me, his eyes wide at the commotion. 

I assume I have about five seconds before I’m hauled out of the room. I launched myself directly into Chad. “You sadistic piece of shit!” I yelled, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him out of his chair.

I was about to deliver a swift kick to his ribs when Raymond’s guy grabbed me from behind. “Take a breath, brother.” His voice was surprisingly mellow and soothing. He dragged me away from Chad. Bob entered through the open door, joining the fray.

My hand must have caught Chad just right. His mouth is bleeding slightly. 

“Seriously? What the fuck?” he asked. He looks like he’s about to charge.

“Let’s all calm down,” Raymond suggested.

“‘Calm down’? He just attacked me!” He took a step my way.

Carl pulled me beside him and got in Chad’s way. “Stop!” he commanded. Chad immediately backed off. 

“SIT DOWN, Mr. Marlow, or Carl will… assist you,” Raymond bellowed, taking charge. “As for being attacked — I’m surprised it took this long. You should let it go. Surely by now you realize that your balls are in a vise and we’re just beginning to turn the fucking crank!”

Chad reluctantly sat. He nervously looked over his shoulder toward Carl, Bob, and I.

Raymond addressed me. “Since you’ve joined us, is there anything you’d like to say to Mr. Marlow?”

Bob interjected. “Motherfucker needs to finish hearing from Max first.” 

“Of course. Mr. Marlow, if you would please return your attention to Max’s remarks.”

I never knew sex could be bad until I met you. You ruined it for me, maybe forever. I was in a deep funk. I hate myself for being so stupid, but you deserve blame too, for using me.

My biggest fear has been running into you at school or something. I’m paranoid, constantly looking around, almost having panic attacks worried you’ll appear. Then, just as I was beginning to better control my anxiety, you showed up at Pizza Pit. The way you glared at me was pure evil.

Despite everything, things might have been smoothed over if you apologized or acted like you cared when I was obviously upset. Instead, you bragged about wanting to rape your own prepubescent son, and use me to break him in. What the actual fuck was that? You seriously thought I would help you? Then you drove me back to Speedway without saying a word, just threw a few bucks at me and tossed me in the parking lot like I was a piece of garbage.

Unfortunately for you, people I trust know how to handle predators. I hope all the stuff they dug up has you about to piss your pants. Just like when I lost bladder control while you were brutalizing my butt, and made me lick it up off the bed because you didn’t want to be charged a cleaning fee.

I didn’t recall it before, but at this point Max’s voice was cracking. It wasn’t obvious, but I could tell he was beginning to cry. My heart sank.

You caught one break. My actual father got busted a couple years ago for assaulting some little girls, and now he’s in prison for a long time. I don't know who it sucked for most: his victims, him, my mom, or me. It was completely humiliating and messed up our lives. So luckily for you, I don’t want to put Brett through that if I don’t have to, and I hope he never finds out what you want to do to him.

The look on Chad’s face is one of bewilderment. He’s dumbfounded and, I think, starting to crack. I’m not sure what the catalyst is, but his energy has changed. Whether it’s the disclosure about Max’s father, Max’s raw delivery, or the scope of his problems, something has shifted. Whichever, he’s definitely lost his insufferable, combative attitude.

I’m not sure whether you ever feel guilt or shame about bad things you do to other people, but being so mean and violent and demeaning has caused me problems. I really hope you learn from this and don’t harm any other boys like you did me and ESPECIALLY not your own damn kid.

While Max’s statement is complete, Raymond paused the video. Max’s despair and tears are undeniable. Chad is averting his eyes.

“Sir, would you like to address Mr. Marlow now?”

I took a deep breath, focusing on the hum of the air conditioning. I walked to the TV and pointed.

“LOOK AT HIM!” I demand. Startled by my volume, Chad complied. “Does he look like he ‘loved every minute of it’? DOES HE?”

Chad didn’t respond right away. He actually, finally, looks somewhat chastened.

“I believe he deserves a response. Carl, don’t you agree?” Raymond stated, breaking the silence. “You did state those exact words earlier, Mr. Marlow. In light of Max’s emotional statement, do you still maintain that attitude? I would point out that in your most recent exchange via Snapchat, you acknowledged that you, quote, took it too far and got carried away. Or was that just for his benefit in hopes of manipulating him into another rendezvous?”

Chad wiped his brow. “No, I… I don’t know. I didn’t mean for all this to happen or cause anyone problems. It was just roleplay. He said he was 19, then 16, which is legal in this state.”

“Perhaps initially, but when you picked him up, he was honest and told you he was only 14. Which, by all accounts, is quite apparent. Frankly, he could pass for 12,” Raymond stated. “If you’re being honest, what you ‘didn’t mean’ was to get caught. You may regret pushing too hard because it’s now causing you problems, not because you very clearly hurt Max.”

Chad didn’t reply, so Raymond continued. “You did just call him a ‘pathetic little faggot’ who needs to ‘toughen up.’ I believe that’s what induced this gentleman to join us so abruptly.”

“I didn’t know about his dad. He seemed into it, I just…”

“Couldn't help yourself?” I asked flippantly. “You didn’t have to pick up the pieces after, I did! Do you have any idea what it feels like to have a terrified child beg you, through humiliated tears, to check their most private parts to make sure they don't need medical attention? He was worried he’d need a colonoscopy bag for the rest of his life. I was who dried his tears as he sobbed, confessing to what transpired.”

Chad sat there, staring. “I had to literally carry him inside after you leered at him at the pizza place, because he literally became catatonic,” I yelled. You could hear a pin drop. “Just this weekend, he had to be reassured when he broke down after recording this. He was distraught at reliving it! It took everything out of him, and you have the audacity to make fun of him? Fuck you!” I slammed the table. “LOOK AT HIM!”

Bob grabbed my arm. I took a deep breath. “It isn’t lost on anyone that he’s attractive, but he’s still just a kid, and what you did… the force you used, the harshness with which you treated him, the size of your erection and his small frame — I just don’t understand what you were thinking.” I shook my head. “Even if you deluded yourself into believing he would enjoy what you had in mind, how was his visible discomfort and desperate pleas not a signal to back off?” I asked, outraged by his cavalier attitude and bullshit excuses. “Jesus, you made him lick up his own urine and semen from the bed spread. What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did,” Chad finally said, almost inaudibly. I sense shame for the first time. “I have a problem. I need help.” He’s not crying, but he looks on the verge. And for once, I don’t think it’s an act.

“Fucking obviously!” Bob remarked.

“I’m sorry about your whole life, but that doesn’t give you license to hurt other people — especially a child,” I said. I decided to lay it on thick for effect. “His voice hasn’t even changed! For Christ’s sake, he still sometimes sleeps with a stuffed animal and wets the bed. He needs almost constant physical reassurance because his father was so abusive and his attachments to men are so tenuous. He’s desperate for approval and acceptance and love, and you took advantage of those insecurities. You’re despicable.” I took a breath. “I’m curious, did it ever occur to you to wonder why a boy his age and size would be interested in hooking up with and ‘willing’ to engage in BDSM with a grown man?” I paused again, knowing he wouldn’t respond. “Of course you didn’t. You saw an easy mark and wanted to get off.”

Now, I know my full-throated condemnation is somewhat hypocritical. Fair or not, society at-large would say the exact same thing about me. I try not to make excuses for my behavior, but for all my faults, at least I’m not a sadistic sociopath.

“Look, I —“

“No, you had the opportunity to speak and nothing but filth and lies came out of your mouth,” Bob interrupted. “So shut the fuck up and listen, or I swear to God I’ll do something we’ll both regret.”

Normally Bob’s forcefulness would be arousing, but I’m too busy pacing the room. 

“You know, despite everything he’s been through, Max is still kind and sweet and empathetic. He strives to do the right thing and is so hard on himself when he makes a mistake. Until recently, he was actually blaming himself for your transgressions,” I said, my own voice starting to crack. I know that it’s more my own fault than Max’s, since I opened that door and he gullibly curled right into Chad’s lap. “Through this entire thing, and despite his own heart-wrenching trauma, Max’s biggest concern has been Brett and making sure he stays safe and blissfully unaware. He doesn’t want anyone else to experience what he did at your hands, or to go through what he did with his own father.”

The room fell silent. Big, gruff Carl actually teared up. Raymond looks furious. Bob is literally gripping the table to avoid ripping Chad’s head off. 

Raymond broke the silence. “And that, Mr. Marlow, is why you’re here. Max is willing to forego his own justice to spare your son from the horrific knowledge that his father is truly monstrous. Personally, I find it to be a remarkable testament to his strength of character, which I can assure you a judge and jury will eat up,” he said cheerily. The disparity between his words and tone is such a mindfuck. It must be some law enforcement technique to throw suspects off-kilter. “Of course, he will cooperate with authorities if necessary. But, as is so often the case with young people, Max has a naive idealism that you can be reformed. If you’ll refocus on the screen, we’ll review the conditions of maintaining your freedom.”

“Yes sir, I’m listening. I swear,” Chad immediately offered. Yes, he’s a broken man. Is it strange that I almost feel sorry for him? Perhaps it’s the realization I could face a similar predicament. I’m not the cruel fuck he is, but I’m not without my own sins, either.

“Given your indiscretions, the demands being placed on you are quite reasonable. Some might even say charitable.”

Chad nodded.

The first bullet point is ‘Zero contact with Max, Noah, and Cam.’

“Done,” Chad mumbled. 

“You will steadfastly avoid any place they might be, which means Olympia is strictly off-limits for the remainder of the school year. I trust you’ll find an excuse if your son has a function you might otherwise attend. You’ll also need to avoid your sister’s place so long as Noah is dating her daughter. Understood?”

“Yes, of course,” Chad mumbled.

Raymond clicked and the next bullet appeared. “Obviously, your days of even trying to meet boys for sex are over. Not just the aforementioned young men, but this also includes your own son, nephew, and anyone else underage. You can sleep around with other adults as much as you want; that is not my concern.”

“Got it. I’ll just delete my Grindr and Snapchat accounts,” Chad offered. “I don’t need them.”

“That seems very prudent. No sense in keeping temptation at your fingertips,” Raymond agreed. “We’ve already touched on this next point,” he continued as he added the next bullet, which read ‘You will delete the video of Noah and anything similar you have from all devices.’

“Yes sir, I will,” Chad quickly agreed.

“Now, one last thing.”

Chad looks completely defeated. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Max could use some help with future education expenses. I’m going to set up a 529 college investment account in his name. You’ll seed it with $10,000. Then, every year on this date for the next ten years, you’ll contribute another $5,000.”

Chad looks slightly anxious. His sweating and fidgeting. “I… uh,” he starts to make an excuse, but Raymond cuts him off.

“Mr. Marlow, I think you’ll agree that $60,000 is a paltry sum to pay to avoid decades in prison. Hell, that wouldn’t even cover your legal fees, or a civil suit. You’re a successful businessman. You began our meeting today bragging about your sales figures being consistently in the top ten for the Twin Cities, so I’m sure you can manage to find the funds.” It’s masterful how he uses his own words and arrogance against him. 

“Um, yeah… sure.”

“Plus, it’s tax deductible. Well, partially. Minnesota is not very generous. But, every little bit helps.” Raymond is just toying with him now and twisting the knife.

“Is there anything else?” Chad asked tentatively. “I, um… do have another meeting this afternoon.”

“They’ll wait, but we are nearly finished,” Raymond said, waving his hand. He buzzed his assistant to send in Anton.

“As a matter of full disclosure, this entire presentation has been recorded. You can have a copy if you’d like, as I’m sure these gentlemen will. A thumb drive containing our session will be stored safely in our vault, in addition to preserving a digital copy. Don’t worry, it will be encrypted,” Raymond explained. “That is, unless you slip. We’ll be monitoring your activities and may even check in, periodically. Normally I wouldn’t follow up pro bono, but you, Chad Marlow, pique my interest.” He paused. “Cross the line again and I will make it my personal mission to completely fuck up your life. I’m not nearly as sentimental or compassionate as Max.”

Chad gulped, nodded, and bowed his head. 

Raymond slid a business card across the table. “You may go. Call me Monday and I’ll go through the logistics of your initial deposit into Max’s account. Carl will see you out,” Raymond dismissed him like a strict principal sending a wayward student on his way.

Chad stood and walked quickly to the door, Carl close behind. He can’t wait to get out of there. I don’t blame him. He’s been completely emasculated.

***

Once he left, Bob and I both leaned back and let out a big sigh.

“All things considered, that went pretty well, don’t you think?” Raymond asked.

Bob and I nodded. “You’re a master at your craft.”

“I didn’t have you barging in and assaulting that fuckwit in my plans, but I’m glad it happened. The speech you gave was perfect. I think he was already beaten down after listening to Max’s riveting delivery, but you took any remaining fight out of him.”

I’m not even sure where that all came from. Sure, I’ve pondered what I’d say to Chad if given the opportunity, but it was never anything significant or organized, much less meaningful.

“I guess I’ve had some of those things bouncing around in my head and just needed the right trigger for them to come out. When he called Max a pathetic faggot, I lost my cool.”

Bob laughed. “And people think I’m a hot head.”

“I don’t blame you. You reacted as any good father would, particularly when confronted with such a ridiculous and smarmy display,” Raymond replied. “I’d have loved to have Carl pistol whip him if it wouldn’t have screwed with my insurance premiums.”

“I would have paid extra to see that,” Bob said. “What more do I owe you, to settle things?” I’ll have to ask what my share is. No way he’s paying for all of this.

Raymond shook his head. “Nothing. Your deposit to retain our services was sufficient to cover expenses, and considering the circumstances, I’m not looking to profit. It isn’t often this interesting of a case with such a revolting target crosses my desk.”

“He is a uniquely infuriating piece of shit,” I agreed. “I’m just relieved it’s over. Max really has been affected, and I think this will help provide the closure he needs.”

“Thank you for your efforts. You really put on a clinic. Please express our gratitude to your entire team,” Bob added.

“It’s incredibly satisfying work, to be an instrument of justice and relentlessly call out bullshit,” Raymond replied, smiling. “Oftentimes, there’s more gray area and nuance with the parties involved. There is no ambiguity with Chad Marlow, and I appreciate you entrusting us with such a sensitive matter.”

“We had to do something, and after what they went through with Max’s father, pursuing a more traditional remedy and everything that comes with that would have broken both him and his mother. They’ve been through enough already,” I stated.

Raymond nodded. “The criminal justice system isn’t for the faint of heart and will wear you down. It’s a big reason I retired when I did. The system is broken and justice is elusive far too often.”

There was a knock at the door. Anton entered and handed us each a thumb drive. “These have both the PowerPoint and the meeting recording.”

“Thank you, Anton. Efficient work as usual,” Raymond said.

“Cam will be thrilled. He desperately wanted to be here, but that wasn’t going to happen.”

Raymond laughed. “Well, not for nothing, those boys did a hell of a job getting Chad to incriminate himself. And that fake account he set up made baiting much easier. I may have to give them a job in a few years!”

Bob’s lip curled. “They're still very grounded for their efforts. I haven’t been so spun up in a long time. But, I am glad that despite their impulsive recklessness, it helped.”

“Oh, I get it. My kid wouldn’t have been able to sit for a week if they had ever done something so dangerous and inappropriate. I’m grateful they traversed adolescence before the era of smartphones,” Raymond said, shaking his head. “But, for whatever it’s worth, it did make a meaningful difference. Despite their lapse in judgment, they really do sound like good kids.”

“Absolutely, and they usually bring out the best in one another,” I said. “But, there were a whole lot of tears after we found out, so at least we knew they were taking our displeasure seriously.”

“Well, if it doesn’t violate the conditions of their consequences, I’d love to meet them,” Raymond suggested. “Sometimes after resoundingly successful operations such as this, we take clients out for a celebratory dinner. Does tonight work, or would you rather schedule something?”

Bob and I looked at each other. Neither of us have an objection.

*** End of Chapter 42 ***

Author’s notes:

I do hope that Chad’s undressing lived up to expectations!

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