Chapter Three (Consequences)
*When you decide to hate, remember to not become what you hate.*
I had the rest of the weekend to think. Okay, I had the rest of the weekend that I was able to pry away from my Sister and her friends. I went out for my morning laps, and 'bang' they are all in the pool, flirting and playing around. To add to my troubles, April was upset with me about something, but wouldn't tell me what it was. I hated that, because we always shared. I wondered if she might have found out about Mother and what I was doing, but as far as I knew, my computer system was safe.
The girls went out to a party Saturday night. I knew where it was and bargained them down to coming home at one a.m. I took that time to edit out Mom's latest escapades, which was even more explicit and damning. Dad could crucify her. Something occurred to me as I was finishing up; that was the issue of money and what was my Mom doing with it. If she'd been paying Dad back, I would have expected Mom to have made noise about it. Her business was more her baby than her real children had ever been. I asked myself where the money might be. Mom wasn't a Warren Buffet. It couldn't be that hard to figure out.
Mom's greatest weakness was her arrogance. She'd gotten what she wanted for so much of her life she'd come to expect things to continue that way. That was why she was so bitter about her business. She couldn't fathom why she was failing. She could never imagine that she was the one at fault. She also couldn't imagine that her latest scheme might fail, so she wasn't careful. Hot, beautiful, but stupidly arrogant, that was Mom.
I found a checkbook in her purse to a bank where I knew Mom and Dad didn't do business. I got the routing number and a carbon copy of her signature. I was impressed with the amount. She must have been working hard. This money represented a lot of spankings, slaps, and cum shots to the face. All I had to do was write out a check for all but twenty-two dollars of the account and do a passible copy of her signature. Monday morning, after seeing April off and doing my laps, I stopped by the bank on the way to work. I opened an account at the bank and deposited my Mother's check. I went to work with a song in my heart.
Monday night Mom was at home (imagine that). I finally had the chance to study her. I'd disregarded her for so long, I only now saw some fraying around the edges. She was struggling to keep it together. It was almost time to kick the doors in. I spent the night with April down in my basement watching her favorite movie. She seemed a bit detached and I was getting tired of it. I started a tickle fight. She resisted at first, but then she suddenly became a wild beast and bore me to the ground. She tickled me so hard I could barely move.
"Who's the best?" she trumpeted.
"You are – the best ever."
"I love you," she declared staring down at me.
"I love you too, Kiddo," I replied. April put her ear to my chest and listened as my heart pounded and my breathing struggled to return to normal. I figured we had made some progress.
Tuesday night was what I had promised and more for Danielle. I let her run her hands over my body. I had a sleek young lady eat her out, torturing her for a half hour until I feasted on her nipples, biting and pulling on them. Her orgasm was intense. It was more intense when I had Danielle hold the head of that same woman while I screwed the other woman to two orgasms. I kept looking her in the eyes while I made love, watching her war with her emotions. She asked me to leave with her and spend the night. I told her she wasn't ready yet.
By my calculations it wouldn't be until nine thirty Wednesday morning before Mom went to the bank. They'd let her see the check and that would leave her in the awkward position of reporting me for bank fraud, which would let Dad know everything and ruin her. She'd know that her money was now in my hands. I finished my laps, told the engineering firm I would be working from home today, and sat down at my computer. I hoped she didn't get a ticket burning up the road home. I heard the door slam and her high heels pounding down the tile and hardwood floors. I had left the doors open so I could hear her come in. She pounded down the stairs, cursing under her breath. I stood to face her.
"Damien," she shouted when she saw me sitting at my computer, "I don't know how in hell you did what you did, but you are going to fix it right now ..."
"Or," I said calmly. She stopped short, rage burning in her eyes. It made her look very sexy. It was also the first real emotion she'd shown me in forever.
"I'll turn you into the bank," she snarled. "You'll go to jail."
"Good luck with that. It is your check, your signature, and now it looks like you are using my name to hide money from Dad. Besides, you've already seen the check and told the bank it was okay. What's your story going to be now?"
There wasn't much more she could do. She hauled off and slapped me. It hurt, but it couldn't wipe the smile from my face.
"Oh, it gets better," I said, rubbing my cheek. She hauled off, ready to hit me again, but I was ready for that. "Did you even bother to think of how I knew where the money came from? It certainly wasn't from your business." Mom trembled with anger, but withheld her hand. There was this tiny spark of fear inside that bonfire of rage. She didn't have an answer.
"Let me show you something. It is some of your greatest hits. I figured you would enjoy them even more the second time around." I hit a key on my laptop and the widescreen TV began streaming the footage from the past week. It had everything from her changing, to her stopping at the club, going inside, and all the attention she was getting and receiving. Mom looked gut punched. I nudged her over to a chair and she collapsed into it. I had just eviscerated her hopes and dreams. Any pity I felt was washed away in the torrent of all the times I had held my Sister while she wept from the cruel barbs and the silent neglect we got from both parent, but especially Mom.
"What ... why?" she managed to say.
"The short story: I hate you. I hate what you've tried to do to April. I want to see you suffer for a long, long time, and this is the perfect way to do it. Dad is going to gut you like a fish. You will be working at that club for the rest of your life, or for the last few years you have before your beauty fades and they become bored with you."
She looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. It was like she'd expected a lonely fifteen year old boy and suddenly found herself confronting a twenty-two year old man. The only sound for two minutes was the sound of my Mom getting it up the ass from a large black guy who had bent her over a chair and put a stirrup in her mouth.
"Please," was her barely audible plea.
"Do you think you have suffered enough?" I asked her. She leapt on that tiny thread of hope.
"Yes."
"Hardly," I scoffed. "You have seven years of neglect to pay back for, Bitch." That confused her.
"What do you mean?" she asked me.
"You've proven to be a not-so-cheap whore, so I'm going to treat you like one." I lowered my shorts and pulled out my stiffening cock. "Suck on it." Her eyes went wide and her mouth gaped open.
