Turning Point Club Box Set

by JA Huss

  “You pissed me off,” I say, then open both eyes to look at her. “Really. Fucking. Pissed me off, Rochelle.”

  “I was allowed to leave. It was in the rules.”

  “Fuck the rules,” I say, pushing her off me and sitting up.

  “Come on, you guys,” Bric mumbles. “Not now.”

  “No,” I say. “I’m gonna have my say and then I’m gonna let it go. I fucking hated your guts when I saw you in that hotel room. One year, Rochelle. No note, no phone call, no mention of a baby until Chella told me you kept it. You just walked away like I meant nothing. And you think you can just turn back, show up, and things would what? Go back to normal?”

  “You guys,” Bric interrupts.

  “I just wanted to set things right,” Rochelle says.

  “And we did,” Bric says, sitting up and bringing Rochelle with him. “We sorted it out, right?” Bric looks at me, shaking his head a little, as if to say, Not now.

  But why not now? If we don’t do this now, we’ll just do it later. Tomorrow, or next month, or next year—if we’re together that long. It has to be said, so why not now?

  “What you did, Rochelle, was a total cunt move.”

  “I said I was sorry.”

  “And I told you, I accept your apology. But an apology can’t erase what you put me through. It can’t erase one year of helplessness, and sadness, and wondering where the fuck you were. What the fuck you were doing, and why the fuck you left. Why did you leave?” She opens her mouth to speak, but I interrupt her. “And don’t say because I didn’t love you. Fuck you if you think I didn’t love you.”

  “Because you’re invested in the game, Quin. You wanted me and Bric. Not just me.”

  “If that’s not what you want,” I say, “then why the fuck are you here?”

  She stumbles for words. “I… You… We…”

  “Jesus Christ,” Bric says, standing up and walking into the bathroom. “Just let it go, Quin.” He starts the shower and then comes back out. “We’re here because we want to be here, OK?”

  “So you don’t care that she’s basically saying she wants me alone, and not us?” I ask.

  “Do you care?” Bric asks.

  “Dude,” I say. “If I wanted her to myself, I’d have her to myself.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that. Admitted it,” Rochelle says.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Well, I, for one,” Bric says, “am flattered.”

  “Shut up,” Rochelle growls at him. “And thanks for those spankings by the way.”

  Bric shrugs. “You deserved them.”

  “And,” I say, “if you didn’t want them, it’s your responsibility to say no.”

  Rochelle huffs out some air. “So you’re ganging up on me now?” She’s talking to Bric. “Taking his side?”

  “I’m not taking his side,” Bric says. But we both know he’s taking my side. He’s not into the couple relationships. He’s not going to be with Rochelle as a couple. Even if he was Adley’s father—and he’s not—he would not settle down with her, for fuck’s sake. “But this is what we have right now, Rochelle. The three of us. Is that something you’re interested in? Or not?”

  “I am,” Rochelle says, looking at me. “I’m into the three of us, Quin. But you and I have something different.”

  “Had,” I stress. “We had something different. And you know what? If you had stayed, if you had just stuck around a little longer, I would’ve left the game for you.”

  “But you won’t now?”

  “I don’t even know you, Rochelle.”

  “What?” she asks. “How could you say that?”

  “I know nothing about you. Not one thing outside our limited time together. You blew my fucking mind when you walked out. Made it explode in confusion. I had no idea you’d do something like that to me. Never in a million years did I imagine you’d hurt me that way.” I point to Bric. “Him I know. I know his body, his mouth, his fucking cock. But beyond that, I know his mind. I know the depth of his loyalty. I know his past, what he wants from the future. I know he’s got my back. I trust him.”

  Rochelle draws in a deep breath and lets it out very slowly. “Well…” she says. “I’m glad you think you know him so well.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  She shrugs and gets up off the bed to join Bric in the bathroom doorway. “I’m taking a shower.”

  Bric and I stare at each other for a second. “Come on,” he says. “Just let it go. You had your say, you had your revenge fucks. Two,” Bric says, holding up two fingers. “You got it twice. You paid her back and made your point. Now just settle down and let it go.” He walks towards me, puts a hand on my shoulder. “We have a good thing here, Quin,” he cautions me. “We got her back, we got each other back, and we’ve got that adorable pumpkin baby. Don’t fuck it up with hate.”

  I sigh, not wanting to give in, but unable to help myself.

  “Right?” Bric says. “Come on. Let’s just take a shower and go to bed.”

  “I think we need rules,” I say.

  “What?” Bric is annoyed now.

  “More rules. The rules kept things straight, you know?”

  “Quin, we broke all the rules with Rochelle. It’s too late. We’re off the rules. We can try, if you’re gonna insist. But look, we made rules last week and we’re already off the rules.”

  “Well, we need guidance, then.”

  Bric laughs. “OK. Thriples therapy here we come. Get real.” He bumps me as he walks towards the bathroom. “In a week you’ll be past this,” he says over his shoulder. “In a week we’ll be settled back into our regular routines. I promise. Just give it a week.”

  I don’t think a week will fix what’s wrong with us.

  A few moments pass. Me just standing in the middle of the bedroom. Rochelle and Bric talking in low voices in the bathroom. They are in the shower together. I can tell by the sound of the water.

  I’m glad you think you know him so well.

  They have a secret. That’s what she meant by that statement. She and Bric have a secret.

  I let out a long breath of air and rub my hands down my face.

  What could it be?

  “Quin,” Bric yells from the shower. “Come on.”

  It’s got something to do with her leaving. Or the baby. Or her coming back. Or all of the above.

  “Quin,” Bric shouts again. “Get in here now.”

  It’s true. What I said. I don’t know her very well. I didn’t think about it much before she left. She was just… Rochelle. Our player. The best player we ever had. Did I ever wonder where she came from? Did I ever wonder why it was so easy for her to slip into the life we offered her? And stay for three fucking years?

  “Asshole!” Bric yells.

  “I’m coming,” I say, slipping my pants down and kicking them away. I kick the doubts away too. Does it matter if they have a secret?

  Not really. I know she doesn’t want Bric. She wants me. But beyond that, I know Bric doesn’t want her without me.

  So does it matter if they have a secret?

  I walk into the bathroom and decide it doesn’t. Not yet anyway.

  I open the glass shower door and slip inside. There’s a double shower head—one on each side of the shimmering lavender glass-tiled walls. Plus a rain shower overhead. Plenty of room for three people.

  It’s kinda odd. I know people have fancy showers like this. Hell, my bathroom is fancy too. I have a rain shower and a regular shower head. But there’s plenty of space in here for two large men and one slight woman.

  Almost as if Bric designed it this way on purpose.

  “Here,” Bric says, holding a shampoo bottle. “Hold out your hand.” I do, and he squirts some shampoo into my palm. “Wash her hair.”

  Rochelle is standing under one of the side showers. She glares at me through a curtain of water.

  “Turn around,” I say, making a swirling motion with my finger
.

  Rochelle steps out of the water, wiping her eyes as she turns her back to me. I gather up her long, blonde hair and begin to wash it.

  “See,” Bric says. “That’s nice, right?”

  It’s kinda funny that Bric has to babysit this relationship. The one who never gives a fuck. The guy with absolutely no nurturing gene in his DNA.

  “Do you know where I grew up, Rochelle?” Bric asks.

  “No,” she says softly.

  “Do you want to know?”

  She peeks over her shoulder, finds me looking at her, then averts her eyes to Bric. “Of course,” she says in her soft Rochelle voice. “I’d love to know.”

  “Great Falls, Montana. Well”—he laughs—“not in town. I grew up on a fifteen-thousand-acre cattle ranch about an hour west of there.”

  “You’re a cowboy?” She says it seriously. But then she laughs with him. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Right?” Bric says. “But it’s true.”

  “Why did you leave?” she asks. I’m still lathering her hair. I’m sure it’s clean by now, but I like it. I like being this intimate with her so much, it almost hurts.

  “Why does anybody leave home?” Bric asks.

  “I dunno,” Rochelle says.

  I wonder where her home is?

  “To get away,” she adds after thinking about it a second.

  “To get away.” He nods. “I like Montana. There’s a lot to like about that place. The mountains, the rivers, the sunsets. I liked it.”

  “But not enough to stay,” Rochelle says.

  “Nope. I just had to get away. To a bigger place. I got accepted to a private high school in Denver so when I graduated, I just stayed for college. And when I graduated college, I just stayed forever.”

  “How did you get the Club?” she asks.

  I don’t know why I find the telling of this story so fascinating—I know it. All of it. But I’m quiet as I continue to wash Rochelle’s hair. Just listening, waiting for the best part. The way we met Smith. Those early days when things were simpler. When all we thought about was ourselves. Each other. And how we came up with the idea for the game. And later, how we came up with all the rules.

  It was hard at first. Not to feel jealous of each other. Even Smith had trouble in the beginning, and that’s saying something. He and Bric both did. They expected me to be jealous, but I never was. I don’t mind sharing. I like it.

  Women are hard to please. That’s something I learned early. It’s hard to fuck it up with three men to give them what they need. At least, that’s what we thought. I almost laugh at the memories. We made a lot of mistakes in the beginning, but by the time Rochelle showed up, we were experts. The whole thing just ran. Like a complicated, but well-calibrated, piece of technology.

  “I met Smith when I was a freshman at DU. He was on campus. Illegally, on campus. You know Smith never went to school, right?”

  “I read that somewhere,” Rochelle says.

  “But he used to crash classes all the time. Just show up on the first day like he went to school there. I saw him in economics freshman year. And I totally thought he was a student. He took the tests and everything.”

  “Why?” Rochelle laughs.

  We’ve never talked about this with her. Hell, anyone. Why not? Why didn’t we ever tell Rochelle personal things about ourselves?

  “I guess he just wanted to get a feel for it. I dunno. I never asked him. He was so fucking weird. He got caught too. Right after the first exam. The professor was like, ‘Mr. Baldwin, you’re not a student here. Get out of my classroom.’”

  Bric and I both laugh. “I wasn’t there,” I say. “I was two years behind Bric in school. We went to the same high school, so I was still a junior when all this was going down.”

  “Which is a good thing in retrospect,” Bric says. “Because if you were there, I’d never have bothered with him.”

  “Were you guys friends already?” Rochelle asks, looking over her shoulder at me.

  We both nod.

  “Were you playing a game together back then?”

  “Sorta,” Bric says. “We double-teamed a girl in high school.”

  “God, that was a disaster.” I laugh.

  “You little perverts,” Rochelle says.

  Bric shrugs. “It was hot as fuck. No guy is going to turn that shit down. And it was Quin’s idea. Blame him.”

  “It was a joke,” I explain when Rochelle looks over her shoulder at me again. “I was fucking around and that chick said yes. You don’t say no to that.”

  “So how does Smith come into the picture?” she asks.

  “I saw him the next semester,” Bric says. “Trying to take differential equations. That class was smaller. A lot smaller. So I was just waiting for it this time. He got busted the second week. And when I walked out of that class, he was outside the building. He stopped me and asked if he could have my hoodie because he was cold.”

  “Your hoodie?” Rochelle laughs.

  “You have no idea,” I say. “That was just the first strange request we got from Smith that year.”

  “So you became friends with him?”

  “I wouldn’t even call it friends,” Bric says. “He was so fucking odd. He didn’t have a home. He was only eighteen. So basically, he lived on the streets. But every now and then he’d show up on campus dressed in this five-thousand-dollar suit, you know?”

  “Like he does now,” she says.

  “Right. So I couldn’t figure it out. I was fascinated, if I’m being honest.”

  “We invited him to a party,” I say. “And he was almost normal when he arrived. At least he was dressed normal. Jeans, t-shirt, boots and flannel, you know? Classic grunge. He must’ve gotten some cool kid to donate to his cause that day.” Bric busts out laughing at the memory. “So the three of us were just hanging out. Drinking beer and getting high and shit. And this girl comes up and points to each of us. One at a time. And then she says, ‘Follow me.’”

  “We fucked her upstairs in someone’s bedroom. All three of us,” Bric says.

  “And you weren’t virgins?” Rochelle laughs. “Because I’m picturing the three of you like a bunch of virgin nerds who get the offer of a lifetime.”

  “Nah,” Bric laughs. “Quin and I had double-teamed for a while by then. I think she knew that.”

  “For sure knew that,” I add.

  “We dated her on and off, the three of us, all through college. Smith’s parents died when he was eighteen and he became this über-rich multi-billionaire. That’s when he went on his I-refuse-to-own-anything kick. He semi-lived with me in the dorms that second year of college. Then, when Quin graduated and we had enough money saved, we got a place together. That girl was around a bunch. But we had others. And then I went to med school, Quin started his business, and Smith donated money for the building we’d later turn into the Club.”

  “So you guys have been doing this a very long time?”

  “Very long time,” Bric says. “You know… since we were teenagers, Rochelle. Our whole adult lives.”

  “And it’s not something you can easily see yourselves leaving behind?” she asks, her voice smaller now.

  “Not easily. No,” Bric says.

  “Oh,” Rochelle says. She peeks over her shoulder at me. “I think it’s clean.” Meaning her hair, which I am still shampooing.

  I nod and step aside so she can stand under the water on the opposite side of Bric.

  “But we’re trying, Rochelle.”

  I look at Bric. Are we? But I don’t say it.

  “We like you. Obviously,” Bric says. Rochelle stares at him as she rinses her hair under the water. “So just give it a chance. Let’s settle into whatever this is. And don’t make any decisions without talking it through this time. Do you think you can do that?”

  She nods, then drops her head and puts her hands over her face.

  “Hey,” I say, stepping towards her. “Don’t.”

  She wraps her arms
around my waist and presses her face into my chest. I look at Bric, who shrugs as he grabs the bottle of conditioner and squeezes some into the palm of his hand.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you. I swear,” Rochelle says.

  “It’s OK,” Bric says, picking up Rochelle’s hair and massaging in the conditioner. “That’s over now. We’re here. Let’s just stay here for a while.”

  I grab the soap and start washing her shoulders. It does feel different now. Sharing that story was good for us somehow. It brings us closer. She knows something now. Something real. Sees us as people, not players. I almost feel guilty for making Bric punish her tonight.

  Almost. But not quite. It helped me, I think. Get over her betrayal. And she stayed for it. That was the apology I needed, I guess. I just wanted her to feel something. Sorry doesn’t tell me much. Letting Bric spank her tells me more. Watching her cry… well, I wasn’t going for that, but I won’t lie and say it’s not meaningful.

  The three of us rinse off and step out of the shower. We take turns drying each other off. This isn’t something we normally did before. We didn’t spend the night together much. Not the three of us, anyway. Bric would usually leave. Or if it was Bric’s night, I’d leave.

  But none of us are leaving now.

  We all climb into bed, Rochelle between Bric and me. Arms find their places. I have one above my head, the other across Rochelle’s belly. She’s facing Bric, so he has one hand on her cheek, the other on her hip. Our legs tangle together. Rochelle pressing the soles of her feet against my shins, Bric’s knee between her legs.

  And then there is one long collective sigh as things calm down and we settle.

  This, I decide. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

  The settling.

  The bed moves, waking me up. The sliding barn doors are open and Rochelle is just slipping through them, tying a white robe around her naked body. Bric is gone. I get up, pull on yesterday’s pants, and follow Rochelle.

  She’s in the baby’s room with Bric. He’s holding Adley, who is sniffling back tears. He hands her over to Rochelle, who smiles at me when she slips past, on her way to the kitchen.

  “What time did you get up?” I ask Bric.

  “About an hour ago. I heard Adley waking up. But Rochelle was still out, so I came in here to see what the problem was.”