Crashing Waves

by C J Baty

  Finally, Justin spoke. “I’d like for us to start over. Have dinner or a drink. Go on a date. Or all of the above.” Justin showed Marcus a slightly lopsided smile. “Get to know each other. The way we should have started to begin with.”

  Marcus remembered he had said something very similar to Justin a few months back. Releasing Marcus completely, Justin offered his hand to Marcus.

  “Hi. My name is Justin Warfield. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

  Marcus felt his whole world shift on its axis. What had happened to cause Justin to open up to him now? Before Marcus could answer, Peter’s voice came echoing through the basement.

  “Justin! Marcus! Get up here now. You aren’t going to believe what Joe Thompson just brought into the lobby!”

  ––––––––

  THEY FOUND Peter and Robert kneeling beside a large wooden crate. The top of the crate was missing and had clearly been pried off by something.

  Ragged edges covered the entire circumference of the crate. Sharp pointed pieces of wood stood up in several places and splinters hung from the sides.

  The contents of the crate were the same dark red leather of the journals Marcus had found in the attic at the manor. Bradley Warfield’s journals.

  What the hell had the man known that was causing someone to be this desperate? Marcus guessed there were about two dozen or more books strewn in the crate before them.

  “Joe, where did you find these?” Justin knelt alongside his brother on the floor.

  “It was thrown into the bushes outside the old employee entrance door, and them books were scattered about on the ground.” The man looked anxious.

  He shifted from foot to foot and wrung his hands as he spoke. Marcus didn’t get a chance to ask him what was wrong.

  “Can I go now, Mr. Warfield? I need to get back to work.” Joe began to edge his way out of the lobby.

  “Sure, Joe. Thanks for bringing these in.” Peter stood and patted the older man on the shoulder. He looked relieved to be leaving the group of men surrounding the crate.

  Justin stood, holding one of the journals in his hands, thumbing through the pages. “There’s no way to know if one of them is missing, since we don’t know how many there were to begin with or even if there are more in another location.” Justin looked to Marcus as he spoke.

  “Actually, there is,” Marcus said and then regarded each man standing with him. “We read them.”

  ––––––––

  “T HIS IS not what I meant when I asked you to have dinner with me,” Justin said as he popped the top on another beer. He handed the can to Marcus.

  Accepting the beer, Marcus took a bite of the slice of pizza he held in his other hand. Peter and Robert had gone to the kitchen for another six-pack of Coors and the last uneaten box of pizza.

  Upon returning to the manor, Marcus had retrieved the two boxes of journals that he had stored in his room after he found them in the attic.

  Together with the books from the crate there were forty-four journals in all.

  They divided them into equal stacks, and each man took a stack. Their goal was to scan the journals looking for something that would date the journal and then put them all in chronological order. That was three hours, two pizzas, and three six-packs of beer ago. Justin was still looking at Marcus, seemingly waiting for an answer to his statement.

  “I know, but you know this is more important.” Marcus looked into Justin’s eyes. “If you still want to talk later, maybe after Peter and Robert call it a night, we can . . .” He left the sentence open and smiled at Justin.

  “It’s a date.” Justin lifted his own beer in a salute and winked at Marcus.

  The change in Justin was mystifying, but Marcus couldn’t deny he liked it.

  He wanted to believe this change was a good thing, but he remembered too well how much it had hurt when Justin pushed him away the last time. He would tread carefully with Justin Warfield this time around.

  Their eyes never left each other’s. Marcus could feel a small electrical current run between them as if they were actually touching. When Justin moved slowly toward Marcus, Marcus felt himself being pulled to Justin by some invisible string. Justin was going to kiss him again, and Marcus wanted it more than he knew he should. He saw Justin’s eyes close and heard a soft sigh escape the man’s lips.

  Peter and Robert chose that exact moment to return to the parlor with pizza and beer in hand. Marcus moved away from Justin quickly but could do nothing to stop his heart from racing. He slowed his breathing and didn’t look at Justin; instead, he listened to Robert and Peter’s conversation.

  “Just let Sally know we miss her and Beulah, and we hope everything goes okay,” Robert said to Peter as he settled on the floor beside a stack of books and grabbed a slice of pizza from the open box.

  “Damn, I completely forgot,” Justin said. “Did Sally call? How did the surgery go?”

  “She called while we were grabbing the beer and pizza. The surgery went well, but the biopsy isn’t back yet, so they’re staying in Knoxville until they get the results.” Peter’s face fell as he spoke. “I miss her.”

  Justin patted Peter’s back in sympathy.

  “I’m sure she’ll be back bossing you around in no time at all.”

  Marcus and Robert laughed at Justin’s words and the disgruntled look that had appeared on Peter’s face. Robert was making an effort to be cordial to Marcus, but once in a while Justin would catch Robert staring at him sadly.

  “Oh hell. Get off me you idiot.” Peter groaned and smacked Justin’s hand away.

  Another hour later and they had the books restacked in an orderly fashion by year. Bradley had dated most of his entries, and it wasn’t too difficult a task to put them all together. What was difficult was reading the damned things. Several points became clear to the group of men as they sat discussing what they had read in the journals. For one, Bradley Warfield was a self-righteous son of a bitch. It made no difference the age, gender, political, or economic status of a person. He used them all. Any way he could. Two, he had gathered information on everyone he came in contact with. Three, the hardest point of all, he’d used the information without any remorse, if it suited his purpose.

  Marcus watched Justin and Peter as they read excerpts from the journals and brought items to light. Peter had just been a kid when their parents died, so he remembered very little of them. Justin, however, became more upset as the evening wore on. Marcus could see the hurt and disappointment in Justin’s face. He ached for him. Peter suddenly jumped from where he had been sitting on the floor after reading a section where Bradley talked about how much he hated Maggie, his wife.

  “What I don’t fucking understand is why he even married her in the first place and why did she stay with him?” Peter stormed from the room.

  Robert agreed with Peter. “The way he talked about Maggie compared to the way he talked about Celia Lee, it was clear who the man loved. If you could call it love, that is. It was more like because he couldn’t have her, he was consumed with the need to have her.”

  “It was a different time. Our mother was raised to be the wife of a wealthy man. That’s all she knew. Good or bad it was the only life she had. I think she knew about Celia and my father too. I remember seeing them argue once. It was at a party. They were never the same after that day.” Justin picked up one of the journals from the first pile.

  “Listen to this,” he said and began reading.

  October 1967. Her name is Celia. She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Skin the color of melted chocolate. Eyes black as night. She hates her hair ’cause it’s all fuzzy. But I don’t mind it like that. I told her she’d look good in an afro. It was my first time and it was fucking amazing.

  She didn’t let any of the other guys touch her while I was there. I need more money so I can see her again.

  “Then these two entries from June of 1968.”

  It’s finally over!
Graduations are so boring but graduation presents rule! My new ‘68 red Mustang is the hottest set of wheels in all of Beaufort. I can’t wait to see how beautiful Celia is going to look riding with me as we speed along with the top down. It’s going to be a fucking great summer.

  Dad was waiting up when I got home tonight. He demanded to know where I’d been. I could tell by the anger on his face that he already knew the answer. I never admitted a thing. Never said a word. No one is going to stop me from seeing Celia. We are meant to be together. I promised we’d spend the summer together and I’m keeping that promise.

  Justin put down that journal and picked up the next one. His voice shook as he read the next entry.

  January 1972. It’s over. How am I going to tell her that I can’t see her anymore? He’s going to cut me off if I don’t go through with the marriage in June. He told me I had to finish school and come back to start learning to run the hotel. I have to marry Maggie and it doesn’t matter if we don’t love each other. Maggie’s father is investing heavily in the hotel and this will

  keep the money in the family. He doesn’t care that I love someone else. It’s all about the damn hotel and the Warfield name. How am I going to let her go?

  Justin closed the red leather book and laid it gently on top of one of the piles of books beside him. His eyes tore at Marcus’s heart. He looked so lost and adrift.

  “He said almost the exact same thing to me all those years later. His life and the woman he loved was taken from him, and he took mine.” Justin laid his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.

  “I think maybe we should call it a night.” Robert stood from where he had been sitting listening to Justin read. “I’m going to go find Peter and take him back to the hotel. We all need a good night’s sleep. You two going to be okay?”

  Marcus turned his eyes from Justin to Robert and nodded his head yes.

  Robert gave him a nod and left the room quietly. If there was one good thing that had come from discovering these damned journals and sitting here with the others reading them, it was the truce that he and Robert had managed to forge.

  Busying himself, Marcus picked up the trash and headed for the kitchen. It took several trips, and during the whole time Marcus cleaned, Justin never moved or opened his eyes. He began to think the other man had fallen asleep. He waved goodbye to Robert and Peter as they left, closing the front door softly behind them.

  “Thank you,” Justin said, breaking his silence.

  “For?”

  “Everything.”

  “No problem.”

  “We can leave these here for the night.” Justin pointed at the journals as he rose from the sofa. “I just can’t look at them or think about what he wrote anymore.”

  “I understand. Tomorrow I’ll make a log and see if there are any long stretches missing.” Marcus waited for Justin to reach him at the door.

  Side by side they walked without speaking through the hall to the stairs and up to the second floor. They reached the door outside of Justin’s bedroom, and Marcus turned to face the forlorn man beside him.

  “I’m really sorry about all this. I’m sorry you are having to read these things, and I’m sorry your father didn’t have the balls to stand up and make a change when it came his time to be the father.” Marcus wanted to take Justin’s hurt away, but he didn’t know what to do.

  Marcus touched Justin’s cheek softly with the palm of his hand. He rubbed his thumb over the day’s growth of shadow beard. Looking into Justin’s eyes, Marcus waited for him to speak.

  “Can I kiss you?” Justin asked.

  Marcus wet his lips and moved forward until their bodies were aligned and touching. Justin’s lips came down on his. Marcus could taste the pain in Justin’s soul, and he wanted nothing more than to take it all away. Relieve some of the anguish that seemed to be coursing through the man in his arms. Justin’s body shook, and though it could have been from desire, Marcus somehow knew it was from holding back the tears threatening to break through what little resolve Justin had left.

  This kiss grew more intense but never rough. It grounded them together, fed their need. Justin kissed Marcus like his life depended on the air that only Marcus could give him. He held Justin tight in his arms. He wanted the other man to know he was safe and he had him. It was okay to let the feelings out; Marcus would be there to catch him when he fell.

  The need to breath outweighed the need to be held and touched; Marcus pulled away, but only slightly. His hands moved over Justin’s shoulders, arms, and neck, never stopping. This must be how a blind man memorizes someone . When Marcus looked into Justin’s eyes, he could still see the anguish that seemed to be crushing him, but there was something more.

  Something stronger in Justin’s eyes now. Desire. Need. Want.

  “Stay with me tonight,” Justin whispered against Marcus’s lips.

  How could Marcus say no?

  9

  ––––––––

  THEY MOVED AS one into Justin’s bedroom. Justin pulled Marcus along with him, afraid to let go. He feared the other man would leave him, and being alone tonight was unthinkable. He needed to put it all away. The loneliness.

  The hurt. The words his father had said that left a hole in his heart. He just wanted to forget it all and be held.

  His body wanted more; Justin knew that. It was reacting to the need to be with Marcus in every way the man would allow. Justin didn’t deserve it; he knew that too. There should have been a courting. Dates to get to know each other. Time to share details of their lives before they took to a bed again. A new beginning to start a relationship the right way between them. But tonight it would have to wait.

  Justin could feel the hesitation in Marcus. It could have been that he didn’t trust him, and Lord knew, Justin deserved that, or it could have been that Marcus didn’t want to take advantage of him while he was hurting. Justin

  could assure him this wasn’t taking advantage. It was all about Justin wanting and needing Marcus.

  “Justin, are you—”

  He stopped Marcus with another kiss.

  They stood by the bed, both having kicked off their shoes along the way. This kiss was pure hunger. Lust that pooled in the pit of Justin’s stomach was rushing through the rest of his body. His cock ached it was so hard. He pressed it against Marcus’s hip and groaned.

  “Does this feel like I’m unsure?” he teased as he rubbed himself harder against the other man.

  “God no! It feels . . .”

  “I want you to make love to me. My own issues have caused us to wait too long. I know this isn’t how it should be.” He kissed Marcus softly. “I intend to make it right.” Another kiss. “But I need you tonight, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.” Justin nibbled Marcus’s slightly swollen bottom lip. “If you want me to beg, I will.”

  Justin dropped to his knees. He was still having an occasional dizzy spell from the concussion, so getting into this position wasn’t an easy feat. He had no doubts this was where he wanted to be. Looking up at Marcus, straight into those eyes that drove him insane with need, he ran his hands over the muscles of Marcus’s chest through his shirt until he reached the waistband of his jeans. Never breaking eye contact, he carefully unbuttoned Marcus’s jeans and slowly brought the zipper down. He pulled the jeans and briefs down Marcus’s hips in one move, allowing his cock to spring free. When it was fully exposed, a shiver washed over Marcus from head to toe, Justin smiled. The look on his lover’s face was pure lust.

  “Take me in your mouth, Justin.” Marcus wrapped one hand around his cock and the other hand around Justin’s head bringing the two closer together.

  “Now.”

  Justin didn’t hesitate a second longer. The delight he felt in swallowing Marcus down was amazing in itself. He’d hidden his desires for so long that even when he had been with another man, he was never really free to enjoy what he was doing or experiencing. He didn’t have to feel that way now. This kind of freedom was
like a taste of heaven. It was everything he had ever dreamed it could be. The pain and hurt of discovering his father’s journals soon vanished, and his whole attention was focused on the man in front of him.

  Marcus’s soft words of encouragement soon turned into loud curses of pleasure and the warning of his imminent release. Justin didn’t need a warning. He wanted Marcus’s orgasm. Wanted to taste everything Marcus had to give him. The even rhythm they had started with turned into erratic thrusting and more cursing. When Marcus’s release came in hot salty

  spurts, Justin took it all. Justin tried not to smile while his mouth was so full, but inside he was glowing.

  After the tremors stopped, Marcus reached his hands down to help Justin stand. He put his arms around Justin and then kissed him hungrily.

  “I thought I was supposed to make love to you,” Marcus said then kissed Justin’s lips lightly several times.

  “Oh you will.” Justin began to slide Marcus’s jeans further down his legs and off. Next, he removed the only piece of clothing left on Marcus, his shirt.

  “It’s your turn,” Marcus said as he began to undress Justin at a lazy pace.

  Much too slow for Justin, and he batted the other man’s hands away as he finished stripping himself.

  He threw the covers and sheets back on the bed and climbed in, pulling Marcus behind him. The feeling of flesh on flesh was what Justin needed, and he didn’t let Marcus move away from him. His cock was throbbing. He rubbed it in the tight space between their bodies. He was so ready it wasn’t going to take much more.

  “I think I can help you with that.” Marcus kissed a line from behind his ear down his neck and bit his shoulder. As soon as Marcus grasped his cock, Justin pushed against the tightness wrapped around him. In no time he was fucking Marcus’s hand.

  “Don’t stop . . . please.”

  “I won’t. I need you to let go Justin. Let it all go and feel. Feel how hot your blood burns in your veins. Feel your sack tighten, getting ready to release all that spunk you’ve been holding back. I’m here Justin to catch you when you fall.” Marcus’s words spurred Justin on. Freeing him in just the way he needed. He let go. Let it all go.