by A. J. Blake
Hanging up and throwing his phone on the couch, London lunged for Marbell, taking the teacher into his arms. Squeezing fearfully, he said, “Jesus fucking Christ, why weren’t to answering me, you idiot!? I was about to hunt down your father and demand where you were.”
Marbell worked his arms from London’s grip and hugged them around his neck. “I’m sorry, I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, you ended up scaring the shit out of me instead. Don’t do that to me ever again.” Unleashing Marbell, London finally looked towards the flowers, “Are those for me?”
“Yes,” Marbell handed them over, watching as London pressed his nose into the velvet peddles. “There’s a card in there for you, too,” he mentioned.
Letting Marbell inside, London closed the door and pinched his fingers into the bundle, pulling out a small weighted white card from the center. Giving Marbell a look before opening it, he was confused to find a single silver key tapped to the inside. Taking it out, he looked it over, and said, “What is this for?”
Dragging in the luggage he had with him, Marbell left it on a dining chair, and said, “I was going to be cliché and say you have the key to my heart, but that would have been–.”
“Horrible,” London laughed, “Don’t say that.”
Marbell’s eyes lit up, and he continued, “I was gone for an extra day because I spent the whole time looking around for a little something I’ve been wanting to give you. Let’s just say it’s made of brick, a two story, and has way too many rooms. Oh, and a really spacious attic.”
London stared at Marbell for a second and his throat went dry. “Did you – Did you buy me a house?”
“It’s already paid off and everything.”
Feeling suddenly weak in the knees, London had to catch himself on the wall dividing the hallway and the kitchen. “You bought me a house,” he said, “You bought me a fucking house.”
Marbell laughed, “That was a happy statement, right? I can’t tell if you’re happy about it or pissed off.”
Rushing Marbell, London took the man into his arms again, their lips slamming together in a needy moment of fervor. London wrapped Marbell up, picking his weight off the floor as the teacher coiled his legs around London’s waist. They held fast to one another, London not allowing Marbell to slip from him when he began to lose grip.
Hooking his arms under Marbell’s thighs, he walked the teacher to the couch and sat down with him in his lap. “I love you so fucking much it’ll drive me crazy one day.”
Marbell brushed his fingers lightly down London’s face, pecking his plump pink lips for the taste his tongue had missed over the weekend. “You make me feel sane,” he said before kissing his lover again and again. When he felt London’s hands wander to his ass, they pressed down the underside of his bottom to squeeze into his cheeks. Grinding into London’s groin, Marbell’s body flinched when precise fingers touched the tip of his cock tucked away in his pants. “Do you want to see it, now?” he sighed, the tips of London’s fingers teasing him relentlessly through his clothes. “It’s ready to move into if you want. I think it would be a great surprise for when Henry gets out of the hospital.”
Stopping himself from teasing the teacher too much, London let his hands rest at Marbell’s hips. He couldn’t believe Marbell had taken it upon himself to buy a house for...them. No, he should have seen something like this coming. He knew of how much love Marbell had for him, how much he wanted to shower London and Joyce and Henry with everything their hearts desired, and a new house, one away from the tragedy of a childhood that was built into this house was something they needed. Marbell wanted to take them away from it all, to start fresh in a place with no current reminders, and that alone made London fall in love all over again. “Take me to it?” he said, “I want to see it.”
Marbell nodded and rose off of London. Given Joyce was across the street playing with Mrs. Campbell’s granddaughter, they both headed out. As Marbell drove, London asked, “So how was your dad? Was he okay with us off the bat? Did he get upset at the idea of you being gay?”
“Not one bit,” Marbell said, keeping his eyes on the road as they drove through town. “Everything was the complete opposite of what I had expected from him. Can you believe he’d already suspected that I wasn’t straight? So I’ve been fearing the worst from my father for years...for nothing. Oh, and my father and I talked to my lawyer about how we should handle Vivian. Given what she’s done to me, my father wants to make sure she’s entirely erased from my life. He doesn’t want her to end up with a cent or even a clean record anymore.”
“What’s going to happen, then?” London asked.
“After purposing my desired divorce, I’m supposed to bring up the charges of blackmail against her. Through our marriage, she had been practically exploiting me, and my father didn’t want to see her get away with that. If I testify against her in court in front of a jury, she should get what’s coming to her.”
London noted the determined tone in Marbell’s voice, proud of the confidence that had grown inside the teacher. He knew this was something important to Marbell, to finally get away from Vivian, to be free from her and those tyrant, greedy hands of hers. “You sound sexy when you’re scheming against your wife.”
Reaching for London’s hand, Marbell kissed his knuckles, and said, “I would have never been able to do something like this without you, baby. You gave me the courage I needed to finally realize the life I’ve been living isn’t one I have to put up with. I grew stronger the moment I fell in love with you, London, and I want to give you so much more. Someone who you can depend on. Somewhere to always go back to. But, most of all, I want to give you a future without worry. I don’t want you to ever have to concern yourself with the problems you’ve been dealing with since you were a child, since you gained custody of Henry and Joyce. I want to take care of you, love you, and be there for you until the last breath leaves my chest. You mean the world to me, London, and I want you to know that, no matter what ever happens between us, I will always love you.”
As Marbell kept his eyes on the road, driving them to their destination, London watched the teacher. He certainly didn’t doubt the admiration Marbell spoke of, but to constantly hear the true and assured declarations, would never cease to fill London with a restored sense of value and meaning.
Having someone in his life, especially someone from such an intelligent and affluent background, who could possibly want to be with him like this, cherish and respect him the way Marbell did, London almost felt undeserving of it.
Leaning across the stick shift in the center of the car, London pressed a kiss to Marbell’s cheek. “Thank you,” he said before sitting back down. “Thank you for loving me like you do.”
A few minutes later, the couple pulled up to a neighborhood London was only slightly familiar with. These were the type of luxury homes that local professional basketball players bought. Built within a black iron-gated community, it was located on the northeast side of the city, at a vantage point that overlooked the distanced city three miles away. These homes, they were the epitome of amenity here, nice and fancy and very, very costly.
Located a couple hundred feet from any other nearby neighbors, sat a house which took London’s breath away. Sure, he’d been expecting something a little over the top, but this...this was a lot over the top. These houses looked like the kind of preserved and extravagant manor houses one could find in England. Its brick was an all-around cream brown, architecture giving off an olden days feel. The yards, both front and back, were connected without the need for a privacy fence given the great distance of other houses, patches of grass decorated by trimmed bushes, flowers, green elm trees, and the blue sky that splayed out above it only seemed to add to its lavish exterior.
“Wow,” London said, getting out the car when it came to a stop in a long drive that curved in front of the stone steps. “This place is...”
“Our home,” Marbell finished for him, slipping the key to the door
into London’s hand. “Go inside, look around.”
It was as if London’s feet moved for him as he climbed the steps to the patio, shaded from the sun when he stepped under the elevated covering above the door. He touched the clean, polished handle before sticking the key inside and giving a turn. It opened without a sound, hinges new and without rust. A fresh lemony scent wafted into his nose when stepping foot inside. The first room was a wide and sunny walkway, it had three archways that led into a large furnished living area with an attached dining are, while the second, to his left, led to an open room with the kitchen directed further back. The floors were wooden, waxed, and covered by carpets in certain places. When traveling through the modern styled kitchen, he entered a hall crossing through the back of the kitchen to the dining room, and stepped into a half circle sitting area that looked over the backyard. There was a sizable waterfall grotto with a slide and hot tub, the open grass area big enough to support a flower garden, and all the room Joyce would need to run around.
Coming down a corridor that went back to the front of the house, London found the staircase going up the second floor. The first room he entered was a lounge with a pool table, television, a sofa and chairs all sat facing an in-wall stone fireplace.
The back bedrooms were on either side of the upstairs foyer, giving London a taste of what Marbell had meant by “too many rooms”. With one bedroom down stairs behind the wall of the living room, it gave this house eight in total, and each was furnished as either bedrooms or an office or play areas.
Entering the master bedroom, London stepped into what looked like a ten-star hotel room. Everything from the California king bed, to the personal fireplace, polished and sparkling his and his bathroom took London’s breath away. There was even a set of doors that opened onto a nice sized balcony that looked over the backyard, sounds of the waterfall below echoing up to the second floor.
Standing at the glass doors of the balcony, London pushed his hair back with shaky hands, sucking in a chest of air he really needed at the moment. “This is so...” he shook his head, “...I can’t even put any of this into words.”
Behind London, Marbell’s heart flourished at the sound of his lover’s grateful voice. “Just tell me you like it,” he said.
Facing the teacher, London said, “I – I love it. Knowing you bought this for us, I just need a second for it all to sink in. This is a house for heaven’s sake, and not just a house, but one on the northeast side of town. I would have never in a million years, expected to ever step foot in this kind of territory.”
Marbell pressed a kiss to the back of London’s hands, “Well, now it’s ours,” he said, “And no one can tell us otherwise. This is ours, baby, every square foot of it. Our new home.”
London closed his eyes as their foreheads touched, tips of their noses brushing one another’s. With his hands held lightly at the teacher’s hips, he pulled the man closer. When Marbell began to hear the faint stammer of a cry escape London he looked about the tattooed boy’s face, witnessing as the joyful and appreciative tears streamed down his cheeks in a slow current. “It’s okay,” Marbell assured, “I will take care of you from now on. After all, I am older than you, it’s only right for me to do at least that.”
“Thank you,” London uttered softly.
“You’ve already said that,” Marbell smiled as his lover embraced him.
“And I will say it a thousand more times,” London said, “Thank you for doing all that you have for me and my family. Thank you for taking me away from the life I had to live. Thank you, Marbell, for giving me and my brother and sister a place to start over.”
Wiping the tears from London’s face, Marbell kissed his lips tenderly, “My pleasure.”
Back at the other house, London spent the remainder of the day packing to move. It was nightfall by the time he finished up Henry’s room, placing all of the teenager’s manga books, anime figures, gaming systems and clothes into boxes before stacking them against the wall. Marbell had stepped out a few minutes ago with Joyce, taking the little girl to the mall to buy an entire closest worth of the new clothes she needed, and whatever toys the spoiled girl would want to fit in her massive playroom. London had tried to convince Marbell not to shower Joyce too much, but the teacher insisted she be given everything she wanted.
Alone, he started on Joyce’s bedroom, storing her old clothes in a bag that he’d be sure to donate when he had the time. Her toys were a different story fitting into boxes, but with a little effort everything worked out.
They’d be putting this house up for sale tomorrow while they moved, and London couldn’t wait to get rid of it. This place had been the origin of all of the problems his life led to. In these very walls, he was treated like filth, thrown around like a rag doll, and if he hadn’t been able to escape it at one point or another, he wouldn’t be the man he was today. Instead, he’d likely be buried somewhere, missing from the lives of the people who mattered the most to him. After everything that’d gone on here, he’d been cornered in a life of insignificance, drug use brought on by a means to forgot and cope, but there was one thing this house gave him that he’d needed back then.
Strength.
All the brutality and irrational torment he’d been handed at such a vulnerable age, made him into the person he was today, iron-willed and unbreakable. London was a durable shadow of the lost boy he used to be, substituting all the quivering nights and watchful days with everlasting walls of resolve and courage. London Dawncraft was no longer, nor would he ever, be scared to wake up and start another day. This was his life, and moving forward, he wasn’t going to let anyone sabotage it.
As he finished up in Joyce’s room, London set the boxes aside and went to the front of the house. Before he could relax with a show on the television, he was stopped when a knock rapped at his door. He thought it odd for a second. It was nine o’clock at night, so who would be knocking on his door at this hour? Marbell had a key so he’d have just entered without having to announce it, and he wasn’t expecting any guests.
Peering through the peephole, he saw nothing but the dark street beyond the small porch. There were no streetlamps on his block, nor were there any other neighbors present outside their homes, nothing but the emptiness that usually came upon this street after dark. Uncomfortable, he turned his back on the door, but paused again when another rap came knocking.
Frustrated, London unlocked and flung the door open...to no one. With the porch light broken, he didn’t bother trying to turn it on and stepped out. He was going to raise his voice to yell at anyone playing a trick on him, but, almost immediately, he was bombarded in the face by a forceful hand covering his nose and mouth with a cloth. He breathed in a strong scent as a powerful arm clutched around his upper chest, making it impossible to move. Even if he wanted to struggle and toss himself free, the effort to even considered doing so was washed away when the fumes of chloroform brought his thoughts and actions to a standstill.
Watching as a hefty, muscly man dragged London’s unconscious body across the yard to a silver car parked on the other side of the driveway, Vivian used the end of her black scarf to lock the front door from the inside and closed it.
She joined the blond muscly man at the car, touching an ample sized bent and scrape on the passenger side. Her heels clicked against the concrete before dropping into the seat, her tag-along accomplice taking the driver side. Backing out of the drive, she glanced to the back seat where London lay. His arms were bound behind his back by a tight zip tie, silent and comatose. She smirked at the sight, and said, “Let’s take him back to my place. I want to have a nice little chat with him before I show Marbell what a mistake he’s made.”
Driving out of the neighborhood, the driver said, “Sis, I don’t understand why we didn’t just go for Marbell from the beginning. I’ve never liked the quiet bastard, and he’s the one with the money. Fuck this guy.”
“No, Theo,” Vivian said, “If I take away Marbell’s life, I won’t be
able to watch him suffer, but if I get rid of his little fuck buddy,” she sighed, “he’ll be in store for a world of nothing but pain. That is what I want to give him. Besides, I warned him in the beginning. I want him to know that this is what happens when you fuck with me!”
XXII – Fear
London felt like his brain was spilling in the confines of his skull, held still while being thrust in all directions, and he wanted it to stop. A tight pain clung to his wrists, and when his mind began to waver in and out of consciousness, the humming sounds of his surrounding echoed around him. Lain in a fetal position on his shoulder, his mind swayed back and forth as his eyes fluttered open. The first thing he perceived was a wall of dark wood, and then the bottom trim just before a dark green tile flooring. With chilly air cooling the room he was in, London tried to shake the drowsy faintness from him.
When he tried to bring his arms in front of him, he tugged at a restraint tying them together. “What the...” he whispered. Quickly, upon realizing his predicament, London worked himself up, sitting up on the floor and tried to pull what felt like a zip tie apart. “Ah!” he gritted his teeth, feeling the tear of the skin on his wrists. When he failed to free himself, he turned around on his bottom, shocked in seeing what kind of place he was on. This basement was a well-furnished and maintain entertainment area more than a storage room. There was a small bar across the way, theater television section, and a lounge area just to his right.
Sat there for a second, he tried to recall what could have happened to drive him into this situation. One minute he was at home, and the next...here he was.
Suddenly remembering the short struggle, he had to put up after being attacked, London froze on the floor when he heard footsteps coming from a staircase leading to an upper floor. He watched, tentative to see who would appear, and then knitted his brow when an unfamiliar face stepped down. He was a burly blond man in dark blue jeans and a red flannel, a prickly trimmed beard bushed around his jaw. “Who the fuck are you!?” London shouted without thought.
