by D. A. Maddox
“Thank you,” Robbie said, feeling suddenly, strangely overwrought. “You got me through it.”
“That is what I do,” she said, patting his cheek. “You stay out of trouble, Robbie McNeal.”
****
Michael sat on his bed with the package from the props department at Consequences, Live!
It could only be one thing.
How’d they get it done so fast?
He opened the package.
It was a thing of beauty, and it looked just like the real thing, too. The latex phallus, molded from Robbie’s golden-tufted penis, was exactly the right texture and color. It even had that small bit of hair over the base.
Michael smiled, holding it. He thought, Hope you’re okay, buddy.
I’ll make it up to you, someday.
Somehow.
“I really do love you, Robbie,” he said, admiring his new toy. “Believe that, if you don’t believe anything else. And I’m sorry.”
He’d tell him for real, in person, as soon as he could. It was the truth.
Outside the dorm window, red and blue lights. Michael went to that window and opened it. Saw Brad, his dorm uncle and friend, pass out the front door beneath him to meet the approaching officer. They chatted amiably, but the cop left his lights on. They swirled and swirled.
What’s going on? he thought. Somebody sneak off campus, or something?
He could not hear what they were saying. The voices were low, distant, unintelligible.
Then Brad looked up and pointed at his window. Pointed at him. And then he could make out just two sentences from down on the porch dorm.
“That’s him right there. Do you have a warrant, officer?”
The cop looked up. Showed Brad a piece of paper.
Michael turned from the window. Leaned back against the wall, holding his heart. He felt faint.
God, no, he thought.
But hadn’t he expected this? Didn’t he know that Robbie would report him, sooner or later? Who could blame him?
I deserve this, he thought. Maybe … I need it.
He stayed like that for several minutes, waiting, trying to calm himself.
But when the knock came, he didn’t hesitate. He opened the door and caught his breath at the sight of the cop behind it, who looked all-business. He couldn’t be here for anyone else. Michael’s dorm brother was in the hospital recovering from a bad bout with pneumonia.
“Michael Schulsky?”
“Y-yes, sir. That’s me.”
“I’m afraid I have to take you in, son. You’re being charged with incitement to commit criminal trespass, invasion of privacy, and unlawful voyeurism—which carries an additional charge of sexual mischief. Step back into the room, please.”
Michael obeyed. The cop came in after him.
“Turn around. Hands behind your back.”
Out in the hall, his fellow classmates were opening doors. Gathering. Forming a wall on either side he’d have to walk through.
Again, he obeyed. Lowered his head. Cried a little. Said a prayer when the steel encircled his wrists, and gritted his teeth when they cinched closed.
The cop read him his rights, and Michael listened. They were the same as on TV.
The cop turned him back to the door. Saw the dildo and the box sitting on Michael’s bed.
“Think we’ll just bring this with us,” he said, putting the dildo back into the box and closing it.
Michael’s mouth hung open, silent in despair, his eyes turned to the ceiling. Contemplating his future.
Excellent, he thought, letting the tears come, shedding them hard. Sniffling.
Stifling the terror, suppressing the smile that so badly wanted out.
He had much to make up for.
****
“I’m … overwhelmed,” Robbie said. “I don’t even know you.”
“It’s cool,” the ponytailed man named Chase said. “I don’t know you, either. I only know the TV-you. But the TV-you fuckin’ rocks, bro.”
“We just wanted to help get you out of a toxic situation,” Abby explained. “Now you can get out of it. Up to you. They’re your parents, and love is a funny thing. It’s not like we don’t want you to talk to them anymore or never visit them again.”
Robbie studied the tablet screen: $329,118, a gift that was all his—provided he take no more money from his parents. It was a Jumpstart Fund, designed to make him independent.
Still no word from Mom and Dad.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say ‘yes’!” Chase laughed.
Robbie handed the tablet back, shook hands with them both, and gave them his answer.
****
The call came hours later.
“Robbie?” a voice said from the door. Young, authoritarian, female. Unfamiliar.
Everybody knows me, he thought, forcing himself to open his eyes and confront the voice. Like on the campaign trail.
“Yes?” he said, woozy with interrupted sleep.
She was one of the prison staff, but he’d never seen her before.
“It’s your mom,” she said, handing him a rather large mobile phone. “You can take it in the office on Line 1, or you can take it here. But if you do, I have to stay until you give me the phone back.”
“Thanks,” Robbie said, reaching for it. “I’d rather not walk right now.”
“Yeah, no doubt,” she said, then put her hands to her lips. “I did not just say that. Think I’m going to walk off a few paces and die over there, okay?” She pointed to an indeterminate point about ten feet away.
Robbie winked at her. She withdrew a bit but did not die.
“Mom?” he said.
****
Maddy found that, for the most part, getting along with the other inmates—first at breakfast and now at lunch—wasn’t so difficult. In protective custody, most were content to do their time quietly and not compound however much trouble they were already in. And Maddy could relate to that.
When her parents came to visit her at school—well, it wasn’t going to be easy.
She stared down at her tray of questionable pasta in thin white sauce with semi-steamed broccoli on the side. “This doesn’t look so bad,” she said, hopefully.
“Not so good, either,” said Cassie, and they shared a small laugh.
“Together, then? Go.”
They took their first bites as one. Across from them, at the nearest table, four other women clapped and cheered. Maddy held high an OK sign with her thumb and forefinger and made a rather deliberately dramatic show of swallowing.
Could’ve waited until I was back at the dorm, she thought, chasing it with a swig of water. But, no. She might as well get the whole jail experience. And she was more than a little hungry.
At various points throughout the cafeteria, she saw at least four of the six women who had made up half of her Volunteer Humiliator squad, including the woman with auburn and gray hair. But they didn’t bother her or make faces at her. They didn’t talk to her. And if anyone spoke to Cassie, they were quick and short about it.
It would not do, Maddy supposed, to be suspected of divulging secrets.
“Where do you live?” she asked. “Thought we might get together when you’re done. Hang out.”
Cassie sighed. “California.”
“Oh, right,” Maddy remembered. “Mom and Dad coming in on a plane. I’m dumb.”
“Hit you up on Profile?” Cassie suggested. “Shoot me a friend invite.”
“Consider it done,” Maddy promised.
By the time they finished lunch, it was 12:50—and Officer Jenny was at the door, waving her over.
“Good luck in here,” Maddy said.
“Bye,” Cassie said, her features so sad it was positively wrenching. “And good luck out there.”
At the door, Officer Jenny asked, “How’s she doing, Mads?”
“Better now than when I first met her,” Maddy answered, following her out. She’d be getting her thing
s from prisoners’ inventory at Intake, not the room she’d shared with Jasmine and Heather. “Why?” she added. And do you care?
“No reason,” Officer Jenny said, leading the way. “Boss thought you might be good for her, is all. Cassie’s got a bitch of a waiting game to get through. Not everyone has to go through that.”
****
“I said I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Alone,” Robbie said, not making it a question. “No Dad.”
“Robbie, you know what your father is going through right now. What he’s up against. It’s taking every second of his day to both do his job and defend himself. Show a little empathy, for God’s sake. He’ll see you next time you’re home from school.”
“And what were you doing all morning, Mom? Were you planning his defense, too? Because I’ve been sitting here for five hours, kind of wondering if I’ve been disowned or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been … letting you stew a bit, all right? The things you’ve said, the things you’ve done since they put you in that horrible place. I would think you’d come to realize what a blessing your home really is instead of … behaving the way you have. I don’t know what to do with you.”
Robbie leaned forward, phone tucked at his ear and neck, rubbing his temples. “You know what, Mom? That’s okay, because I know what to do with me.”
“We’re going to have some damage control to work out with you, Rob. We can arrange a holiday, get you in front of—wait. What was that? Robbie, you’re not referring to that stupid—”
“In fact, I’ve already done it. Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll finish school. I’ll do everything I’m supposed to do.”
“Robbie what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about my freedom, Mom. From this place, and from you. Tell Dad something for me, would you?”
Silence.
“Tell him I’ve paid for my crimes in full,” Robbie said, “and he can damn well pay for his.”
He hung up. Returned the phone. Turned to go back to his seat.
And found Maddy at the door, back in her normal clothes. There was a small carrying case at her feet. Her face was alight, joyful.
She was glad he was here.
He went to her. They embraced.
“You waited for me,” she said over his shoulder. Then, playfully, “Oh, my knight in shining armor. God, Robbie, how many hours?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Robbie said, squeezing her, eyes shut. “For you, I’d have waited years.”
Epilogue
The crowd erupted when they emerged from the prison building, hand in hand, shielding their eyes from the unexpected blast of harsh sunlight. Robbie hadn’t realized how much dimmer things were in jail. It was disorienting, unreal.
There were hundreds of them, maybe more than a thousand. They were pressed up against the fence at the parking lot. They were standing on the roofs of cars. They sat on one another’s shoulders to get a better view. One dumb son of a bitch—doubtless to be arrested any minute—had shimmied half up a streetlamp, a feat Robbie would not have guessed was possible.
On the movie screen, they saw themselves blown up, larger than life, grinning like they were rock stars, waving like they were British royalty.
And everywhere, the cameras.
“Holy shit, Robbie,” Maddy said, giggling. “I could get used to this.”
“Don’t,” he replied. “It’s overrated. I mean, go ahead and enjoy it right now, but trust me. And they’ll forget us next week.”
“Some say not,” she said, kissing his cheek.
Their chariot pulled up in the form of a police cruiser.
Again, Robbie scooped Maddy up. He walked her to the car, as though they were a married couple.
Thunderous cheers.
But when they got there, Maddy stood behind Robbie and crossed his arms at his back as though cuffing him, pushing his head down as a cop came around to open the door for them. The roar from the crowd, raucous and jubilant, was practically deafening.
“You’re evil,” he said, sitting back in his seat.
“You have no idea,” she answered, sliding in next to him.
“Oh, I have some idea,” he sincerely insisted.
The cop had to put the siren on to make a path for them.
And before long they were off, together on the road back to school, and the crowd did not follow them.
****
“What? You two are a thing now?”
“Yep,” Maddy said, quite happily.
She was video chatting with Jasmine and Heather, holding her phone at arm’s length so she and Robbie would both be on-screen.
“Hi,” Robbie said, rather too cheerfully, clearly abashed.
Heather wriggled her fingers at him.
“Jesus Christ,” Robbie muttered under Maddy’s laughter.
Up ahead, the sign for Eastern Covenant grew large, then disappeared behind them.
Over the phone, he heard Jasmine say, “Give me that!” Then it was her face on-screen replacing Heather’s. “Maddy, this is going to take some explaining. And you are so late.”
Robbie shared a look with her as they passed onto the parking lot of the quad. Jasmine and Heather didn’t know. From the moment Maddy’s friends had come back to this place—To sleep, Robbie thought, while the whole world is awake all around us—they would have had no way of knowing.
“Don’t worry,” Maddy said. “I’ll catch you up. And you guys better help us catch up.”
“No problem,” Jasmine said. “So, we’re all going to be friends now? No hard feelings, Robbie?”
Maddy shouldered him.
“Of course not,” he said.
“Got to go,” Maddy said as the car stopped. “Bye for now.” And she closed the chat window.
“You know,” Robbie said thoughtfully, “when I think on it, kind of depends what Jasmine meant by ‘hard’.”
Which earned him a light slap on the back of the head. “Watch it,” Maddy said, then purred into his ear, “I may have to punish you for that.”
“Please do,” Robbie said, leaning in for a kiss. “God knows I deserve it.”
The End
Find more books by D.A. Maddox:
www.evernightpublishing.com/d-a-maddox
Consequences, Live series
Piper’s Price
Savannah’s Chance
The Punishment Club: The Dare Dungeon
Find D.A. Maddox on FaceBook:
www.facebook.com/DAMaddoxAuthor
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BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER
COMMANDMENTS
D.A. Maddox
Copyright © 2020
Mrs. Dormer poked her head through the open door. “Doctor McAdams on line one, Mr. Rusk.”
Garrett nodded, his back turned to her. Her face was a reflective shadow in the office window. He almost couldn’t see the over-application of makeup, the age lines about her lips. Tara, his father had always called her. She was twenty years Garrett’s senior. She ought to call him by his first name, just as she’d done all through his childhood. “Thank you, Mrs. Dormer,” he said, looking down over the city. In the morning light, it looked sleepy, almost normal. That would change after the sun went down.
“Mr. Rusk,” she said, and somewhere in her deep, mature voice, Garrett detected the faintest familiar hint of gentle reproach. “You really should get used to calling me Tara. I work for you, now.”
Garrett closed his eyes. Made himself say it. “Thank you, Tara.”
And felt another small part of himself die. He turned to her but still didn’t look at her.
“Line one, Mr. Rusk,” she repeated. Then, with more admonishment, “She said she wouldn’t wait.”
Line one flashed. Tara closed the door, leaving him alone.
Gar
rett went to the desk—formerly his father’s, now his. There was nothing plastic or paper anywhere on it. The surface was glass, the body polished ebony. The built-in computer, including the speaker function, was all touch screen. He tapped the icon. “Garrett Rusk,” he said.
“Hello, Garrett.”
The voice filled the room, soft and educated and replete with assurance. Garrett considered filtering it through an earpiece—but there was no need. The walls were soundproof.
“Is this Doctor McAdams?”
But the question was unnecessary. He knew it was her.
“It is,” she said. “You’ve left me on hold for two and a half minutes, Garrett. Like you, I prefer to set appointments through my secretary. My time is valuable, as I’m sure you understand.”
“I do,” he said. “I … apologize.”
“That’s all right, Garrett.”
“I’ll compensate you for your time.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’ve already placed a sizeable deposit, well beyond my standard fee. I am concerned for you, Garrett.”
Garrett rubbed his temples. “I’m okay,” he said. “I don’t know. It’s just…”
“You’re hurting. Tell me what troubles you, Garrett. Tell me in one word.”
One word? That was impossible.
“Say it. You already know what it is.”
Garrett shook his head for the benefit of no one. “No. I’m sorry, Doctor McAdams. I really don’t know.”
A sigh—deep and knowing and patient even over the speaker. “I’m glad you got in touch with me, Garrett,” she then said. “You need help. I believe I can help you.”
