Saving Graves: A Club Irons Novel

by Drew Sera

  “Fuck!” I blurted out and erupted in her mouth.

  Paul stopped and turned to see the sub sitting back on her heels, accepting the long strands of my cum. All of the girls cheered and congratulated the girl who made me blow my load. I took a deep breath and watched as a few girls gathered around the winner and asked if they could taste my cum. Several girls swiped a bit of my cum off the winner’s cheek, chest and neck, licking it off their fingers.

  I was in heaven. My balls were empty, and Paul walked away empty handed without a girl to scene with tonight.

  I had a different woman to scene with every night at Irons, and Blake and I usually spent some time afterward talking a bit about the scenes. We also were meeting one day during the week to discuss things. I felt excellent about where I was at.

  Chapter Nineteen

  September 1996

  I was about to head to the club when my phone rang and the only reason that I stopped to answer it was because I thought it might be Blake.

  “Is this Anthony Graves?” a woman’s voice asked.

  “It is.”

  She introduced herself as a nurse from a hospital in San Jose. My heart began pounding.

  “Your father suffered a heart attack. I’m so sorry, dear. He didn’t make it.”

  What the fuck?

  I swallowed hard and hung the phone up and kept my hand on the receiver. I took a deep breath and sat down on the couch.

  My dad was gone.

  Guilt was hitting me. My dad tried so hard to get to know me when I moved in with him, but I didn’t let him. And now it was too late.

  He had been the first person to hug me and try to get close to me. Even though I pushed him away, for the most part, I liked the feeling but was never able to convey it.

  I was truly alone.

  I sat still for a long while before I realized that I needed to call Irons and try to reach Blake. I told the front desk girl that I wouldn’t be in and also asked for Blake’s voicemail. I couldn’t just leave a message with the girls at the desk. But when Blake’s voicemail came on, everything that I had rehearsed fell apart.

  Hours later, Blake was in my living room.

  “I’m sorry about tonight, Blake,” I said.

  “Anthony, it’s okay. I was just worried about you. I knew it wasn’t like you not to show up and then I heard the message you left and was very concerned.”

  I nodded and fumbled around the living room, unsure of what to do. When I looked at Blake, he was looking at my suitcase.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked and shifted his gaze to meet my eyes. Fuck, hold it together Graves! “Anthony, what’s wrong?”

  “My…dad…died tonight.”

  I thought that if I could get that out, then I’d feel better. But I felt even weaker, and my chest felt like someone was sitting on it.

  “Oh, Anthony. I’m so sorry,” Blake said and walked towards me.

  Shit, was he going to try to hug me? I moved around the coffee table and walked into the kitchen.

  “Would you like something to drink? I pretty much just have Coke.” I walked toward my fridge with Blake behind me. “I have to go to California for a few days. I’m sorry.”

  “Anthony, you don’t have anything to apologize over.”

  “Yeah, I made a commitment to you tonight, and I didn’t make good on it.”

  Blake asked me about my flight, and I really began to crumble. It was so hard to just keep standing.

  “Um, I don’t know what to do, Blake. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to plan a burial.” Blake pulled me into a hug, which made it easier to cry. “He was all that I had left.”

  “That’s not true, Anthony. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll help you,” Blake said.

  At that moment, I had to trust him. I couldn’t second-guess him or worry. I just needed to trust him and put my weight on his shoulders. I sat numbly on my bed while I heard Blake on the phone with the airlines.

  “Our flight leaves in the morning. Do you have a suit?” he asked me.

  “Wait, did you say our flight?”

  “I told you that I would help you.”

  “You don’t have to go with me.”

  “Aside from being your mentor, first and foremost, I’m your friend. And I’m going to help you with this.”

  Again, I found myself on autopilot, just going through the motions of things. I boarded the plane and sat quietly next to Blake. He was great about everything and knew that I wasn’t in much of a talking mood, so he didn’t push me much.

  During the flight, I remembered the time that my dad flew home with me. I had just been released from the hospital, and my body was covered in bandages and stitches. I barely had the clothes on my back. My dad tried to get me talking the entire way to San Francisco.

  But Blake quietly sat next to me, supporting me. It made me feel calm…which is how my dad made me feel, in his own way. He was able to calm me after my nightmares. And he never beat me.

  Shortly after we checked into the hotel, I changed clothes because I had to meet with an attorney friend of my dad’s. He asked us to meet him in a park that he used to frequent with my dad. We followed a tree-lined path that took us to the water’s edge, and I saw the bench that the man said he’d be at.

  “Anthony?” the man asked as he stood.

  “Yes, that’s me,” I replied and shook his offered hand.

  “I’m George. It’s a shame I’m meeting you under these circumstances. But, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Blake and George shook hands, and then we all sat down on the bench.

  “Sit down gentlemen, please,” George said as he picked up a folder and held it on his lap. “Your father used to come here a lot. I used to bring my granddaughter here, and I’d sit on the end of this bench while your father occupied the side where you’re sitting now. We became good friends, and he trusted me to handle his estate planning. When you re-entered his life, so much changed for him. He reallocated all of his assets, of course, but aside from that, he changed drastically. He worried about you so much, Anthony.” George paused while a foghorn blared in the distance. “All of the funeral arrangements have been made and paid for, Anthony. He didn’t want to burden you with that. All of those details are in this folder on the left-hand side. The right-hand side contains all of his assets and a cover sheet of what he wanted to be done with those funds. I trust that you will take care of that.”

  “I will,” I promised to do whatever my dad wanted me to with the money.

  “Mr. Eriksson, would you mind if I spoke to Anthony a few minutes alone?”

  After Blake was out of earshot, George began.

  “When your dad brought you back to California, he called me the next day. He was so distraught. I remember it vividly. He told me how malnourished you were and how your body looked like a war zone. He said he had to be strong for you, but said that he just wanted to cry each time he watched you struggle.”

  Fuck, why was he telling me this? This information did me no use. I knew he cared and I pushed him away.

  “Richard and I discussed the lawsuits before he told you about them. We knew there was substantial evidence and your dad wanted to proceed. He understood that it’d be rough on you, but it was something he could control, Anthony.”

  “How? I don’t understand,” I said.

  “He couldn’t take care of you as a boy, but with the lawsuits, he could help shape and control your future. The money, Anthony. By winning those lawsuits, he captured enough money for you to be able to live the rest of your life however you wanted.”

  “We used a lot of it for my new truck, my place, and school. The money means nothing to me. He knew that.”

  “Yes, he did. But Anthony, he didn’t touch a penny of that money from the lawsuits.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right,” George said while nodding.

  “No, my tuition was close to $45,000 each semester. I know my dad used the mon
ey from the suits. I told him to!”

  I found myself rubbing over my chest, and George let out a quiet laugh.

  “Your father told me about this nervous hitch of yours with rubbing on your chest. He said he worried you might have a heart condition the first few days he brought you home.”

  Fucking wonderful. I was still hung up on this money thing now.

  “George, I only agreed to go to Berkeley because he promised me he’d use money from the lawsuits. I would never have dreamed of him spending his own money for my education. That’s not what I wanted.”

  “It’s what your father wanted, Anthony. Same with your truck.”

  I can’t believe he did that. Why would he do that?

  “He put all of the money from the suits into various accounts for you. He wisely invested some of it and let some sit and collect interest. Needless to say, your one hundred million dollar settlement, is no longer one hundred million dollars. In just a few short years and with brilliant planning and investing, the money has more than doubled.”

  More than doubled?

  I was letting it sink in, and George opened the folder and pulled out a statement summary page. He pointed to a figure, and I just stared at it.

  “Two hundred seventy-five million dollars?” I asked, even though it was clearly that figure.

  “Every bit of it is yours, Anthony. And this is for you too,” George said as he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a white envelope.

  I took the envelope, noticing that it wasn’t very thick. I feared it was a letter. George stood and put his hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at him.

  “You have your father’s eyes, Anthony. Take care, and please call me when you’re ready to shift the money around.”

  I nodded and sat still on the bench trying to take everything in.

  Back at the hotel, I went to the table, opened the folder and began reading over the asset paperwork’s cover sheet with instructions.

  Do with these funds as you see fit.

  I reviewed each account statement and totaled up over three million dollars in combined assets. I didn’t need the money, that’s for sure. I will think about what would be appropriate. I’ll find somewhere to donate it.

  Staring at me was the white envelope that had my name on it in my dad’s handwriting. I took a deep breath, opened it and pulled out his handwritten note.

  My Dear Son, Anthony,

  I shoved the letter away and stood up. I couldn’t do this. I didn’t want to read it. I paced around the room for a while, took a shower, organized my clothes and bathroom toiletries. I did everything I could to avoid that letter. I finally took a deep breath, sat back down, pulled the letter closer and started again.

  My Dear Son, Anthony,

  Since you’re reading this, you know that my time was up. My life is filled with many regrets, and one of those is not having taken the time to get to know you. While I spent my life as a doctor, helping and taking care of others, I failed miserably at taking care of you.

  I can still hear your ragged voice as you choked on tears when you called me from school all those years ago. When I saw you in the emergency room, I couldn’t believe what they had done to you. If I had been there for you, as I should have been, you wouldn’t have suffered. Not a day has gone by since that night in the hospital where I haven’t felt immense guilt.

  I am very sorry for having put you through that lawsuit, son. But they needed to pay for their actions, and what their lack of actions did to you. I know the money means nothing to you, but it gave me comfort knowing that they paid in some way for the suffering they put you through. It also meant you’d be able to afford to do whatever you wanted the rest of your life.

  We never talked like we should have, and I accept responsibility for that. I wish I would have known things about you that a father should know about their child. If you would, please do me this favor. Write down some of your favorite things, burn the paper and put those ashes with mine.

  Be happy in life, Anthony. Don’t take a moment for granted and live your life to the fullest, son. I am so sorry for everything that I didn’t do for you. I love you, Anthony.

  Love,

  Dad

  Fuck. I stood up and walked around the room. I tried hard not to think about what was in the letter, but couldn’t keep my mind from it. Don’t fucking cry! I went back to the table and grabbed a piece of paper from the hotel notepad.

  My favorite color is blue. My favorite sport is football, and I love the 49ers. I was an honor student in high school and pitched for the high school baseball team. Pizza is my favorite food. I…wish you would have left me for dead. Then I wouldn’t hurt as much as I do now. If you hadn’t come to get me, then I wouldn’t have known what it was like to be hugged or loved by a parent. I wouldn’t have known what I missed for seventeen years! You showed me what I missed out on, and now you’re gone! Fuck this emotional pain shit! I’ll take the physical pain any day. This, what I’m feeling right now, is far worse than any beating.

  “Fuck!”

  I crumpled up the paper and threw it across the room. My head was pounding now. I took some ibuprofen and lay face down on the bed and closed my eyes for a while. When I had a better grip on myself, I picked up the piece of paper and re-wrote everything, but ended it on my favorite food. I tore the crumpled paper into tiny pieces and threw it in the trash near the elevator.

  On my way to the balcony with his letter and my note, I grabbed a book of matches. Once outside, I set them ablaze, merging the words we never spoke to each other into a pile of smoke and ash. After they cooled, I put them into the envelope.

  Blake came to visit me soon after that. I think he knew I wasn’t doing too hot.

  “Did you read your letter?”

  I nodded, but wouldn’t dare open my mouth. Blake put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed gently, like my dad used to. I was trying to focus on the buttons of his shirt, but they were so blurry. I didn’t want Blake to see me cry. I was stronger than this. I tried thinking of everything to keep me from crying, but his hands…they were just like my dad’s. They were comforting and made me feel safe, but I never told my dad.

  “Anthony, look at me,” he said.

  He did it on purpose. I know he did. He knew if I moved my eyes, the tears would fall over my eyelids. It was becoming harder and harder to hold in. That fucking lump was in my throat, and I was shaking. Blake squeezed my shoulders again and said something my dad would often say to me after I started living with him again, and it nearly did me in.

  “Relax and let it out.”

  I shook my head slowly so the tears wouldn’t fall.

  “Look at me,” he said again, and when it became obvious that I couldn’t hold it in anymore, he slowly pulled me into a hug. “Anthony, I’m so sorry. I know how much this hurts.”

  I didn’t look at him, but let him hug me. He felt like my dad did and if I didn’t look at him, then I could pretend that it was him one last time.

  “Come on, Anthony. Let’s get some food in you. Today was a lot.”

  I nodded, washed my face and changed shirts. We went downstairs to the hotel restaurant and bar and watched some football highlights that were playing on the TVs while we ate. Niners lost.

  “Thank you, Blake, for coming up here with me.”

  “I wouldn’t have had it any other way. You’re not alone, Anthony.”

  I hadn’t been to the club in nearly a week since I returned from California. Blake has been trying to keep an eye on me, and I keep shutting him out. I think I need some time away. I’m not able to uphold my responsibilities to Blake or Irons right now.

  I walked into Irons and gazed around the main floor, looking for Blake. It was still very early and I hoped to catch him before the club opened.

  “Graves.”

  I turned to find Paul strolling toward me. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

  “Sorry to hear about your dad. You must be devastated.”


  I nodded and continued to look around for Blake.

  “You doing, okay? I haven’t seen you around this past week, though I can understand.”

  Why was he fucking squeezing my shoulder so goddamn hard?

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said and shrugged out from under his hand.

  “You seem tense, Graves. Have you thought about talking to a sadist about helping you release all this stress and tension?”

  “What? No, I just came to talk to Blake.”

  “I could open up a whole new world for you Graves. Make you question everything about yourself.”

  What the fuck?

  “Have you seen Blake?”

  “He’s probably busy, Graves. Contrary to what you think, the world does not revolve around you.”

  “I know that.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe without your father funding your every wet dream whim and stroking your ego, you’ll find out how the real world works. I have a feeling you’ve lived a coddled life.”

  “You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Paul.”

  “I might know more than you are willing to admit about yourself.”

  “Don’t fuck with me.”

  “Why not, Graves. You really might enjoy it, son.”

  “Paul, enough,” Blake said firmly.

  I looked over at Blake as he was approaching with Luke. Paul patted the back of my head as he moved on. I was so angry, and I knew I was overly emotional right now.

  “Take it easy, Anthony. Just relax,” Blake encouraged, and I nodded.

  “I just came to talk to you. I’m sorry. I…”

  “Come on. Let’s go to my office and talk.”