This story is purely fictional and is based solely on the author's imagination. Any connection between real people, or situations is purely coincidental. It depicts a love relationship between two men, both being of legal age.
The author reserves all copyright privileges. This work may not be reproduced, except for personal use, without permission of the author, and may not be linked to any pay sites.
Chapter 5
With our 'secret' out, at least in Kenny's home, we could relax a bit. Waking up in Kenny's warm, strong arms, made me remember all over again just why I loved him so much. I'd follow him through fire, and walk with him to the absolute end of the earth if he asked me.
I didn't have a clue just how much that dedication would be tested.
"Good morning," I whispered as I sensed Kenny waking.
Kenny lifted his arms from the blanket, stretched and yawned. "Good morning." Then, looking around for a moment, he realized that it wasn't a dream, but that we really were back in his child-hood home. The bright smile on his face quickly faded.
"Hey!" I whispered, and then kissed his cheek. "It's going to work out okay, Kenny, don't look so glum."
Kenny beckoned a smile to his face, albeit forced, but said nothing more.
I could tell he carried the world on his shoulders, and despite my advances in the shower, Kenny merely smiled softly and went about getting ready for work.
He continued this solemn gloominess through breakfast, and even Rebecca noticed, as she quietly placed his breakfast plate in front of him. "Thank you," he said softly, his eyes never veering from the plate.
We ate in silence, and then Kenny stood up, wiping his mouth. "I'll wait for you outside."
That was my cue. Whether I was finished or not, I rose, tossed my napkin onto the table, and quickly left the room.
A quick flash in the mirror confirmed that my appearance was professional, and I made my way down the stairs and out the door.
There, in the drive, was Kenny seated in the Mercedes, engine idling, waiting for my appearance.
As soon as I shut the car door, we were off. "In a hurry this morning?" I joked.
Kenny didn't even crack a smile. The weight on his shoulders grew heavier. "Do you think I did the right thing?" Kenny asked, once we were on the main road.
"Rebecca said herself that she's known about you for some time." I replied, not sure which decision Kenny spoke of, but taking the easier road.
"No, I mean about Jackall. Do you think I should have fired him?"
I stopped for a moment. Several thoughts raced through my head, and visions of Steven Jackall, hanging from a tree by his neck, only added to my silence.
"Russell?"
"Oh, sorry. Yeah, I guess so. I mean, you could have taken several avenues on this one, Kenny. But, there's only one way that man is going to learn acceptance and tolerance."
"I was thinking..." Kenny paused, as though unsure he should voice his thoughts.
"Yes?"
"Well, it's a little risky having him represents Stills, don't you think?"
"I'm not the attorney, Kenny." I said, placing my hand on his leg, assuring him.
"I just don't know. I can't think straight." Kenny sighed.
"Well, if it bothers you that much, partner him up with somebody you think is trustworthy." I was grasping for straws that didn't exist.
"That's just it. Who can I trust?" Kenny paused again, staring ahead, hoping the road would enlighten him.
"Look, Kenny, you've already got Thomas Edwards on his case. You can certainly trust him."
Kenny nodded in agreement.
Then it struck me. "I've got it!" I yelled out.
Kenny practically lost control of the car. "Jesus, Russell...what?"
I looked at Kenny and the broad smile on my face was intoxicating. Kenny wasn't sure what I was up to, but he knew it would fix our problem, whatever it was.
We parked the car and made our way up to the ninth floor. I shared nothing of my idea with Kenny, except to say that if he agreed, my plan would insure a successful representation of Mr. Stills.
"I'll be back," I said smiling, as Kenny sat down at his desk.
"Where you going?" Kenny asked, an unsure look on his face.
"Miss me!" I said, and walked out of his office.
When I returned a mere thirty minutes later, Kenny was on the phone. "No, you're absolutely right on that one, Thomas, but I don't want to expose this firm to another scandal."
Kenny waved me in. I closed the door behind me and sat in one of the large leather chairs. Then, Kenny continued, "That's excellent, Thomas, yes...good, let's run with that. I'll expect a brief first thing tomorrow morning. We'll discuss the details then." Kenny smiled at me. "I'm sorry, what? Oh, yes, absolutely; Mr. Gibbs will be attending most of my meetings. Yes, thank you, Thomas." Kenny hung up the phone, and noticing the file in my hand, said, "What have you got?"
"Only the answer to our little problem." I gleamed, tapping the folder. I stood up, moved closer to the desk, and slapping the file down on it, I said, "I give you Mr. Toledo Jackson." I paused for a moment, as if the mere name would elicit thunderclaps and applause from an invisible audience.
"Who's Toledo Jackson?" Kenny touched the top of the folder, just as his mind kicked into gear. "Oh, Russell, you didn't."
"The fuck I didn't!" I gleamed, resuming my seat.
Kenny opened the folder, knowing what would be inside. The left cover held a picture of Toledo Jackson. He was one of the younger associate attorneys in the firm. But, not just any associate. No, Mr. Toledo Jackson was a black man. Kenny closed the folder, and relaxed back into his chair.
"Now the way I see it, Kenny, we put Toledo on the team, and make him follow Jackall's every move." I hated the 'shadow' reference, but the fact remained, with Toledo on Jackall's every move, we'd know the second Jackall got out of hand. "Besides, from a political perspective, we look even better having a black man representing Mr. Stills."
"Russell, you're brilliant!" Kenny beamed.
"Just looking out for your ass on this one, Kenny," I smiled at him.
Kenny smiled back at the double meaning of my comment.
As we walked into Jackall's new office on the eighth floor, it was clear that he felt his position in the firm was temporary at best. A few boxes lined the walls; his personal items sticking out of them.
"Got a moment, Jackall?" Kenny asked, tapping on the door as he opened.
Jackall looked up from a file he was reviewing, a lost look on his face. "Yeah, I guess so." He closed the file.
We came in and shut the door behind us. "We've arranged for some help for you."
"Help? What kind of help?" Jackall looked worried. He a right to look worried.
"Toledo Jackson has been assigned to the Stills case. He'll be your partner on this, so anything you have, you need to share with him." Kenny said, looking around the small, windowless office.
I looked at Jackall as the color drained from his face.
"I assume you know Jackson." Kenny continued.
Jackall was about to respond when Kenny interrupted him.
"He's a good attorney. Graduated from Harvard Law, you know. Smart, too. Why I was just telling Russell about Jackson's excellent GPA."
Jackall closed his mouth. He knew this wasn't a negotiation, so there was no point offering any complaints. "I'm sure he'll be fine."
"Good, then it's settled. I'll send him down to see you. You two have a lot of work ahead." Kenny started walking toward the door and stopped. "Oh, and one more thing, Steven."
Jackall looked up.
"Toledo will be reporting directly to me, so I expect utmost professional courtesy and treatment. Agreed?" Kenny didn't wait for answer. He opened the door and we left Jackall's office, closing the door behind us.
Jackall slumped further down in his chair. "Just great." He mumbled. "Bad enough I have to work with some stupid nigger, now I got one breathing down my neck. Oh yeah, this is going to be great fun!" He huffed, reopening the file.
The first week proved trying but workable, as the two men prepared arguments against Stills' employer. At the end of each day, Toledo met with Kenny to discuss the day's events and progress on the case. Fortunately, no disparaging remarks were being made, and Jackall seemed to be on his best behavior.
Friday afternoon was a welcomed sight for both Kenny and I. We were drained both mentally and physically.
It was on the drive home that I broke my news to Kenny.
"Kenny, I have to fly home tomorrow."
"What?" Kenny said, shocked. "What are you talking about? You're leaving?"
"Kenny, I have a job too, you know. This was supposed to be a bereavement leave. Besides, I'm sure the mail is piling up, and if I don't return, I'll lose my job."
"Quit!" Kenny said, matter-of-factly.
"Quit? I can't just quit."
Kenny pulled the car to the side of the road. "Russell, I need you with me, do you understand? I can't do this on my own. You're my sanity in this crazy fucked-up place." I could see the fear in his eyes. It was fear of losing me. "Work for me. I can pay you twice what you're making now. Just name your price."
"It's not about the money, Kenny, and I could never work for you. It wouldn't be right." I reasoned.
"Then, the firm will pay you a consulting fee. You'd be working for the firm, not me."
"What's the difference? You're talking semantics here, Kenny."
Kenny placed his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him. "I need you, Russell, please! At least think about it."
Kenny started the car again as I looked out the window. In my heart, I already knew my answer. As I've said before, I'd walk to the very end of the earth for him. But my head, the logical part of me...wasn't convinced. Kenny was asking me to leave everything in California behind me. I'd worked so hard for so long, to attain a sense of self that I wasn't easily ready to give up.
Kenny knew my battle, and I knew his. My only dilemma, when I really thought about it, was whether or not I was willing to give him up. It was one or the other, after all. 'You can't have your cake and eat it too,' as they say.
"No!" I finally uttered. "I won't give you up!"
"What?" Kenny asked.
"Give me the weekend, Kenny, to tie things up in California. Then I'll come back to you, and give you my uninterrupted attention."
Kenny gleamed like a high-school quarterback making his first touchdown. "Yes!"
Kenny arranged for his private jet to escort me back to California and wait for my return.
As the limo stopped in front of the house, Kenny came downstairs. "Russell?" He called out.
"Hey, you didn't need to see me off. I'll be back tomorrow night." I smiled, kissing him on the cheek.
"Russell, take me with you. I'd hate to be in this big old house by myself."
How could I say no? It was his plane after all. I smiled at him, and nodded softly.
"Let me just grab my coat." And Kenny bounded back up the stairs.
He was on my arm the entire trip, and barely let me out of his sight. I didn't mind. I loved the attention, and back home in San Mateo, we were free to be ourselves and no one bothered to give a second glance.
We made light work of closing up the house and collecting phone numbers and contacts for the miscellaneous utilities and such.
On Monday, Kenny would have a secretary make arrangements for security of the house, forwarding of the mail and any loose ends we missed. For now, though, it was pack lightly, and prepare to return to Alabama for an extended period of time.
I wanted some reading material for the flight back, and as I removed a book from the bookshelf, a rose petal fell from the pages to floor. It's brilliant red color instantly threw me back to the cabin...our cabin...at Half Moon Bay.
I picked up the petal and stroked across my cheek. Still just as velvety soft as I remembered. My mind raced and I questioned my decision. Was I really ready to leave California behind me?
Kenny spotted me, lost in my thoughts. He moved up behind me, gently wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. "We can come back any time you want, Angel. This doesn't have to be the end."
I fought back a tear, stuffed the petal back into the book, and replaced it on the shelf. "It's not the end, Kenny. It's only the first day of the rest of our lives." I smiled at him, and he kissed me.
After about three months of living in Alabama, things for Kenny and I began to settle into a luxurious and comfortable routine. Breakfast promptly served, lunch at fancy restaurants, dinner-parties with the 'hob-nob' society, and the upturn in business with Kenny's firm.
We had successfully tied the loose ends of our lives in California. We sold the house in San Mateo, but kept the Cabin. We both knew why, and refused to part with it.
Kenny quit his practice in California, and took on his father's firm with a vengeance.
Despite the pleadings of my employer, I too left it behind, and kept my promise, standing by Kenny's side.
In almost no time, it was clear that Kenny and I were partners, both in business, and in life, though no one outside the 'water-cooler' crowd spoke of it.
I didn't realize how far Birmingham still had to grow, until our meeting with Judge Wilkins.
Kenny was summoned to the judge's chambers, after the last of a long laundry list of briefs had crossed the judge's desk regarding the Stills case. It was time to put together a face-to-face meeting. Kenny was both anxious and apprehensive, as he knocked on the chamber door.
"Maybe you should wait out here," Kenny said, motioning to a bench in the hallway.
"You're probably right," I said. "Good luck."
I patted Kenny on the shoulder, just as a booming voice yelled out, "Come in, Counselor Schilte!"
Kenny gulped hard and entered the chambers, closing the door behind him.
Kenny looked around the spacious chambers. The office was oval shaped without one single corner. It was apparent there were windows, though the draperies covered them. The room was not dark, but dimly lit.
Judge Earnest P. Wilkins sat upright in his huge, black, leather chair; a lit cigar pursed between his lips. He looked so much like the old actor Wilford Brimley, that Kenny almost laughed to himself. "Master Kenneth Schilte! Well, come on...let's have a look at you." Kenny's eyes met the judge's and moved slowly forward. "My God, you sure have grown up!" The judge stood, extending his right hand, as he held the cigar in his left.
"Hello, Judge. It's great to see you again." Kenny said nervously.
"Well, sit down, sit down." The judge pointed to a set of chairs in front of his desk. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, thank you, Your Honor, I'm fine." Kenny answered respectfully.
"I heard about your mother, Kenneth. I'm truly sorry. Would have loved to be at the funeral, but you know the docket...never lets you rest."
"Yes, Sir...thank you, Sir."
"My God! It's been twenty years if it's been a day since I last saw you running around your father's law office."
"Yes, Sir."
"He was a good man, Kenneth...a good friend. He made a real name for himself in this town. After Lester Hannibal, the people just knew they could trust him. Never a question." Judge Wilkins smile faded a moment, as the memory of his friend flashed through him. "And now you...after all this time, following the old man's footsteps. He'd be very proud of you."
"I hope so, Sir."
"And quite an attorney too, I understand." Judge Wilkins leaned closer, as though the room were bugged and whispered, "I know about the Clyde case."
Kenny's eyes widened. He was sure he'd covered his tracks and that no one outside a select few in the firm, even knew he was involved.
"But...but how?"
Judge Wilkins sat back in his chair. "And now I see you're fighting the good fight, too." He opened a file that contained the latest brief on the Stills case. "You sure you're ready to take on some pretty ugly players?"
Kenny sat upright in his chair. "Yes, Your Honor. This is a case of gross misconduct, racial discrimination, and..."
Judge Wilkins held up his hand. "I'm quite familiar with the case, Counselor. I asked you if YOU are ready to take it on. This isn't Hannibal, although it'll probably get just as much media coverage; and it isn't Clyde. This is a whole new pool of sharks, Counselor. I just want to make sure you're ready."
"Judge?" Kenny responded, unsure of what the judge was driving toward.
"I hope you have your house in order," The judge responded.
Kenny tilted his head.
"Kenneth," The judge said, coming around to the front of his desk. "I've known your family for a long time." He leaned forward, "And I know about Jimmy Pelkit."
Kenny could feel the blood drain from his face. "Your Honor?"
"It's okay, Counselor. Your father and I talked about it long ago." He smiled and returned to his chair. "I vowed then to watch out for you."
"I...I don't know what to say, Your Honor."
"Here, let me show you something." Judge Wilkins swiveled his chair around, and removed a black scrapbook from a shelf behind him. He set it on the desk and opened it, somewhere in the middle. It was filled with news clippings and pictures; pictures of Kenny. "I've been following your career for a long time, and I'm not about to let anything happen to your father's good reputation, Counselor."
Kenny gulped hard.
"You don't think it was coincidence that I'm presiding over this case, do you?" The judge sat back in his chair, took a long puff from his cigar and chuckled. "Some things never change, Kenneth."
"Judge, I'm not sure I understand."
"Your father was a good man, and a good friend, Counselor. He knew I had certain...well, let's just call them 'outside interests.' Your father made sure that my reputation was protected, and I'm going to do the same for you."
Kenny's mind raced. There were so many questions, and no free answers.
"Well, I think I've taken up enough of your time, Counselor. Let me know if there's anything I can do." Judge Wilkins stood from his chair, walked to Kenny and hugged him. "Your father would be very proud of you, Kenneth."
Kenny walked out of the judge's chambers in total shock. I could see in his face that his thoughts were still racing.
"Well, how did it go?" I asked.
"Let's just say it's nice to have someone from 'our' side." Kenny winked at me.
"You mean...the Judge? He's...?"
"Oh yeah, pink as a carnation!"
Kenny and I chuckled to ourselves as we left the courthouse. Surprising isn't it? That even in a racist, hypocritical society, that we could find one of our own.
As we opened the door, Rebecca greeted us with a smile on her face, no doubt forced there. "Good evening, Master Kenneth...Mr. Tibbs."
I smiled back. "It's Gibbs, Rebecca...with a G. But really, just call me Russell. I don't mind."
Rebecca smiled at me again. "Dinner will be served shortly. I've already poured some Sherry. It's waiting for you in the dining room."
"Thank you, Rebecca. You always know exactly what I need!" Kenny beamed proudly, as he passed us and headed for the dining room.
Despite my inclination to our simple macaroni and cheese dinners back in California, I was becoming quite used to the elegant dinners of my new home. I had yet to meet the chef of the house, but that would come in time. For now, I basked in the sophistication of Kenny's world.
Rebecca entered with two salad plates, and the meal commenced. Food was always brought already plated, never served in the 'cannibalistic family style.' Not that there was any room for second servings, but all one needed to do was ask.
I sipped the warm Sherry, and gazed at Kenny.
"What?" He finally asked, almost annoyed by my staring.
"I was just thinking. I'm becoming rather fond of this new lifestyle."
"Well, that's a relief," Kenny laughed, stabbing another forkful of food.
We finished our meal, and as Rebecca cleared the plates, I scooted closer to Kenny, placing my hand on his thigh.
It had been two days since Kenny and I made love, and I was feeling the pressure building. I was horny and Kenny knew it.
He turned to me, smiled seductively and asked, "I don't suppose you'd like to turn in early?"
He didn't have to ask twice. I grabbed his hand and led him to our bedroom, slamming the door behind us.
Our lips met and instantly locked together in a passionate kiss that brought my cock to life.
I pressed my body against his, feeling our stiffening cocks touch, held apart by a mere layering of clothing.
I broke our embrace only long enough to whisper "Make love to me, Kenny."
Kenny smiled at me. "I have just the thing to make this perfect." He went to a dark oak table, close to the window. He opened the lid to an antique phonograph. He selected a moody Classical record and set the needle on it. Despite its age, the phonograph produced a wonderful sound, and music filled the room.
As Kenny returned to me, I slipped my hand into his shirt and began kissing him again.
Kenny followed my lead and began undressing me. Each time his fingers brushed my skin, electricity flowed through my body, making my dick jump and my mind swirl.
Kenny slowly led me to the soft over-sized bed, all the while kissing and caressing me. We soon left a trail of clothing behind us.
As Kenny pushed me backwards onto the bed, and climbed on top of me, the heat from his skin touching mine intoxicated me. The rest of the world seemed to slip away. No eyes peered at us. No dramatic legal suits. No arguments over houses and places to live. Nothing but my lover and I, embraced in a love that only those that have been so touched, can appreciate.
I could feel the warm precum ooze from my dick and lubricate our cocks.
I grabbed both of Kenny's ass cheeks, pulling him closer to me, as we continued our embrace; our tongues dancing in passion.
Holding on to Kenny, I turned him over, pulling myself on top of him. I began moving my hips, humping our cocks together, the heat of the room rising.
I began to move downward along his body, planting my gingered kisses on his skin.
CRASH!
The window glass shattered and sprayed the floor with fragments.
We both jumped upward, in time to see the bright red brick slide across the phonograph, before pulling it to the floor with another loud crash.
"What the fuck?" Kenny yelled out and was about to jump from the bed.
"Kenny, wait. The glass!" I pointed to the floor.
Kenny tiptoed around as we heard yelling and laughter, and then the loud engine roar off down the drive.
Kenny peered out the window, and could only make out the faint taillights as the truck passed through the gate. But, what Kenny saw quite clearly, was enough to make him run out of the room.
"Kenny? What is it? What's going on?" My questions fell on deaf ears, as Kenny raced from the bedroom, oblivious to his nudity.
I jumped from the bed and grabbed a robe, throwing it around myself as I chased after Kenny, who was already half way down the grand staircase.
By now, Rebecca had joined us in the foyer, obviously awakened by the noise.
Kenny flung open the door and a bright orange glow filled the foyer.
I knew what it was before I came to the door, and my fear was only confirmed as I stepped forward and saw for myself the burning cross on our front lawn.
Rebecca turned away, shielding her eyes.
Kenny, however, seemed lost in the flames.
I moved forward, touching him on the shoulder. "Kenny?"
"If they think they can scare me, they're wasting good lumber." Kenny said, bitterness in his voice that I had only heard once before, in Jackall's office. "Rebecca, get me the fire extinguisher."
Rebecca turned and ran from the room, retrieving the fire extinguisher and a robe for Kenny.
"I'll bet you even money that Jackall is behind this." Kenny said, gritting his teeth together. "I'll just bet you."
I hope you're enjoying my story of Russell and Kenny. I welcome comments and questions, so email me at mycandlelight_dreams@yahoo.com I also have other stories posted on Nifty. If you'd like the titles, just ask me.