'It had taken my father years to find me. he even put me in a glorified orphanage to hide me from her. my mother let people hurt me. I was worth nothing to her, but yet she wouldn't let me go.'
"Marcus, lad! Are you awake?" Jayden Lorri's voice was followed by a knock on the wooden door that separated my closet-like room from the rest of the basement.
"Yeah, I'm sorry." I quickly threw on some clothes; a pair of gray sweat pants and a plain white t-shirt. Everything was relatively clean, so hopefully, I didn't look too homeless.
It took me a moment to notice Becca was asleep by my side, her long blonde hair tossed all over her face. She looked like a Barbie doll who'd been well-loved by an overaggressive toddler. "You know you're the best boyfriend ever." She reached out her naked arm as if trying to coax me back to bed.
I gripped her hand. "If you ransack the house, do it in a way that will not get you caught."
Becca sat up, pulling the blankets over her chest. "You mean, us."
"Us?" I repeated, trying to remain calm. The tone of her voice reminded me of my psychotic narcissist of a mother.
Becca turned to me, leaning in close to plant a kiss on my cheek. "If I get caught don't think I'm not taking you down with me."
'Well, fuck you too.' In my mind, I was calling her all kinds of profanity, things I'd never say out loud. "That's fine. You do what you got to do."
Becca ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it into a ponytail. "Have fun at your posh little medical appointment." With her face free of hair, she turned over and went back to sleep.
I sat down on my pillow, placing my hand on my best friend's shoulder. "I know you're not asleep." Being the only two pale blonde white kids at the orphanage, everyone assumed we were siblings. A few even thought we were twins. I guess if that was the case, she'd be the devil to my angel; always thinking with her own survival in mind.
Jay, true to his word, contacted the best neurologists in New York. It took a few tries, but he finally got an appointment with a clinic willing to work with my father's case.
So, I guess, in a way; yes, I would be having fun on my trip down south, to the big city, because my idea of fun was spending time with the people who actually cared. I walked to the main floor and left via the front door, to the sight of Jay helping my father into the rented ambulance/med transport van.
I immediately ran to help. "Sorry, Mr. Lorri, I must have overslept.
"No worries, I've got it." Jay lifted my father's upper body in a partial fireman's carry.
"Thanks." I'd forgotten how strong Jay was. His muscles were for more than just looking good in the ring.
"Just take it slow," Jay said, letting my father place his weight on his shoulder.
My father was dressed in clothes that I assumed belonged to Jay. The collared dress shirt and tan slacks were in better shape than most of the clothes we got from the local church-run charities.
"Hi, Dad." I made sure to reach for his hand as Jay helped him recline on the gurney. "You doing alright?"
He nodded. "I held down some food earlier but Jay says they're going to put in a line for the ride over."
"He's having trouble swallowing," Jay explained, "says the muscle spasms are getting worse. But we've got a set up here to keep him comfortable for the duration of the drive."
"Sounds good," I muttered softly, taking a seat on the floor. There were two benches for the two people who knew what they were doing (Jay and the paramedic). I just needed a place at my father's side. I held his hand, watching the movement of his breathing.
It was difficult for my father to rest his arm. Holding it in place seemed to cause considerable pain. this was made worse when the paramedic attempted to force a line into place, in order to start a saline IV."
For the hour-long road trip into the city, one of the two paramedics kept my father's vitals stable while the other drove on the nearly empty streets. It was early enough in the day to drive without fear of traffic (or the use of sirens.)
Jay and I ate a breakfast of bottled water and energy bars. "We can get some lunch after the meeting," he said apologetically.
"I'm fine. I mean, this is what, a ten-dollar protein bar?" My joke bombed, leading to awkward silence.
The trip was uneventful with my father asleep for the majority of the journey. Although the clinic did not have an emergency room we were greeted at the main drop-off (which included valet parking.)
We were escorted to Dr. Hwang's exam room; a tenth-floor office with heating, AC, and the cleanest smelling air I had ever experienced. "This is way better than the public hospital."
"I'd hope so," Jay chuckled, helping himself to a drink from a nearby mini-fridge. "Want anything; water, fruit juice, Gatorade?
"I'm good." Dr. Morgan Hwang was an accomplished woman originally from Toronto by way of Hong Kong. At least that's what it said on the business cards that adorned her desk. Everything about the office was aesthetic for the sake of aesthetic.
The wait was minimal; in less than five minutes, the door opened, revealing a woman in a sky-blue suit. She shook Jay's hand while I helped my father out of the wheelchair, onto the exam table.
"Hello, Mr. Vladimir Torrence?" she pronounced my father's name with a noticeable hint of confusion. His ethnic background was one of mystery; English, French, Irish, Native American with a possible touch of Hispanic via his Filipino great grandfather.
My father chuckled. "You can call me Val."
She shook his hand, but the look on her face said it all; my father's body should not be as physically weak as he was. "So, the patient does not have any previous medical records?" She asked, looking at Jay for a response.
"Nothing beyond the police report," Jay clarified. "That info was passed along to your scheduling assistant."
Dr. Hwang pulled out an iPad and started to scan through data. "Yes, I can see that."
I simply nodded, gripping my father's hand. It was a little sad; I was his only family but I had no knowledge of the extent of his injuries.
"The event resulted in extensive nerve damage," the woman read out loud.
'My mother stabbed him in the head over and over. (She never did believe in guns; too messy, too traceable, etc.) She didn't stop until he was on the ground, barely alive. If the police had not arrived when they did, she would have forced me into her car and escaped across the Canadian border.'
I turned to my father who was attempting to shift his weight onto his good leg.
'I could remember being taken to a hospital where he suffered a heart attack and possibly a stroke before slipping into a coma for three weeks. I stayed by his side, sleeping in a plastic chair. I would dream of the life that would come now that mom was in prison, but when he woke up his body was never the same. If it wasn't for Jay, we would have been left to die in a public shelter.'
The sound of the doctor clearing her throat forced my mind back to reality.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, did you say something?"
"Yes," she said locking eyes with me. "I want to send your father downstairs for an MRI."
"How far is that?" I asked assuming Jay and I would be tasked with getting him there. During his time at the public hospital the lack of staffing forced me to advocate for my father's care.
"Our radiology department is located on the lower floor of this building," she explained. "You and Jay can wait here, in the exam room. I just wanted to make sure I had your permission."
"Yeah, of course." I glanced at my father since it was ultimately his decision. "You're okay with that, right?"
With my father's approval, she called up a gurney. When the rolling bed arrived, the two male nurses helped my father recline on the bed before leaving for the patient elevator.
Now I was alone with Jay. "I'm guessing we have about an hour to kill." I sat on a plastic chair, pulling my knees to my chest.
"That can't be comfortable," Jay said. he had been standing in a corner, leaning against a wall.
"A lot more comfortable than the crap I've slept on," I said with a laugh.
Jay did not react, he simply put his drink down on a nearby ledge. "Lay on the paper." he patted the exam table. "Make yourself comfortable."
"You want me to lay on the paper, like a chunk of meat in a butcher shop?"
Sensing my hesitation, he took a step closer. "When was the last time you saw a doctor?"
"When the police needed photos of my injuries; every cut, bruise, and broken bones."
"You have broken bones?"
"Nothing major; just a few dozen times I got my hand slammed in a car door. Two of my fingers bend all the way backward and I have a perpetually dislocated joint." I held up my hand flashing the peace sign like some kind of lovestruck anime character.
"Let me see?" Jay gripped my hand guiding me out of the chair, to the exam table. "Take your shirt off."
"To examine my hand?" I asked with a chuckle. I wanted to oblige him, I really did, but something felt wrong.
"You said you hadn't seen a doctor in a while."
"I guess I did." Now I wish I hadn't. My brain took the opportunity to connect 'taking off my clothes in a hospital setting' with memories of getting interrogated by police.
"I want to examine you, but not in the way a doctor would. Doctors look at flesh, bone, I like to look a little deeper."
I took off my shirt and reclined on the crinkly white paper. I closed my eyes for less than a second but it was enough to send a rush of cold through to my soul. I willed myself not to speak. Any words that came out of my mouth would only make me look weak. 'Stay calm.' Despite my best efforts, a single telling gasp escaped my chest. I felt angry, cold, controlled. No, who was I kidding? What I felt was fear.
"It's ok," Jay touched his finger to my lips. "You're ok."
"I-I know." I nodded with forced confidence. My eyes were still closed, as I leaned my head back, presenting my neck and shoulders. Why were my eyes closed? Why was I afraid? I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. This was all just a dream. I was still trapped in my mother's house handcuffed to the wall like a prisoner of war. That was all I deserved.
"Hey," Jay's voice was closer. "Do you trust me?"
"Of course," I said with my eyes still sealed shut like a frightened child. "I guess so."
"Then open your eyes. I want you to look at me."
I blinked once then twice, forcing myself to take in the powerful, calm, beauty of his gaze. He seemed disappointed in me.
"Do I look like someone who would ever hurt you?"
No, of course not. then again, I had been hurt by a wide variety of people. "What did Becca tell you about me?"
"All I know is what's in the police report."
"Oh." So, he never asked? Or did Becca never choose to volunteer the nasty truth?
Jay walked his fingers down my throat to my collarbone, tracing over a six-inch scar from when I'd survived a knife attack.
"Would you ever get a tattoo?"
"Over my scars?" I asked. I actually did want to get a tattoo; I had been thinking about it for a while. However, I chose to abide by the life rule; cheap tattoos are not good and good tattoos are not cheap. "Maybe someday, when I can afford it."
"What would you get?"
"I don't know I haven't really thought about it."
"Why not?" Jay stroked his finger down my dark blond pubic hair, drawing a straight line to my erect penis.
Wearing only sweatpants, the state of my cock was obvious. My shaft was pressed against my stomach with my head poking over my waistband.
Jay pressed his tongue in the side of his mouth. He paused for a moment, biting his lower lip[ before speaking. "I want you to spread your legs, own your body."
I gripped my shaft pumping once then twice, it had been a while since I masturbated. For me it was like chocolate or red meat; the less I consumed the less I craved. (That, and I could barely stand to look at my own body.)
I could feel his breath on my face. Jay looked me in the eyes as he placed his hand over mine, guiding me. He was teaching me how to make love to myself. Soon my precum was all over my stomach. I could feel my body tense. The orgasm was building in my core. "Oh fuck," the words escaped my lips in a nervous breath.
"Just relax, you're doing great. Your body is just making up for lost time."
I moaned, the air quivering in my lungs. My cock was making up for lost time.
Jay pressed his lips to my ear, asking a question of consent. "Can we take these off?" he asked, placing hand upon my sweatpants.
"Yes, please."
Jay massaged my legs, starting at my tense, quivering inner thighs. He worked his way down my knees, revealing more of my bare skin. "You are so strong." He kissed my kneecaps before focusing on my ankles. Each touch was deep, intentional. Using his own spit as lube, he worshiped my feet.
The pressure, moisture, it was as if he was fucking my legs. Or maybe I just liked having my feet massaged.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes." My voice was a whisper. `Oh, fuck yes.'
"I want you to turn over, and get on your hands and knees."
"Yes, sir." I didn't want to roll onto my stomach but the way he massaged my legs, spreading me open like a piece of meat just begging to be filled with butter, cream, or some delicious mixture that would consume my insides.
Somehow Jay reached for a box of gloves and a container of lube. He finger fucked me, milking my prostate. I could feel tears in my eyes. My heart raced, shoulders tensed, sending a shockwave down my chest. I gasped for air as my vision went white and for a moment, I truly thought I'd died.
Jay blew a soft stream of air across my skin. "Just relax, you're doing great, just take it all in."
I felt myself ejaculate all over my hands. I wanted more and I'm sure Jay would have been willing to oblige, when we suddenly heard the sound of the unlocked door creaking open. Leaving my clothes behind, Jay scooped me up, carrying my naked body to the connected bathroom before quickly locking the door.
We both laughed nervously at the situation. How did neither of us, not think to lock the main door? I guess it wouldn't have made a difference since I assumed Dr. Hwang had keys to her own office.
"So, what now?" I asked.
Jay had removed the glove and cupped his clean hand to my face. Looking me in the eyes, he stroked his fingers from my forehead to my ear, down to my jaw. He paused for a moment, hovering his lips over mine. I could taste the spice of cinnamon coffee on his breath.
"What's wrong?"
Jay bit his tongue, with a coy sexy smile. "I just know if I start kissing you I'm not going to be able to stop myself."
His words made my skin blush all over. I put my arms around him, holding him close as we kissed. The movement was slow, passionate.
And then there was a knock at the bathroom door. "Mr. Lorri? Is everything alright?"
"Yes Ma'am," I replied for Jay. His mouth had moved to my neck, sucking hard on my skin. "We're just cleaning up a little mess."
"Understandable," the female doctor replied. "I can unlock the bathroom and hand you your clothing if you like?"
"Sure, thanks, that would be great." I was mentally debating if I would be able to look the good doctor in the eye.
"Although the acoustics are reasonable, I would prefer to speak to you face to face in regards to your father's test results and subsequent care." She opened the door just enough to reach her hand through.
I grabbed my clothing and tossed it on the nearby wicker trash can. Everything in the room was pristinely clean. Jay took a step back, sitting on the toilet, to give me a chance to get dressed. I put on my sweatpants first, making sure to first wipe off myself with the supplied paper towels.
"Here, let me help you." Jay motioned for me to sit on his lap, straddling him. I had already finished all over myself, but Jay was hard. We took turns masturbating his cock, using a mixture of his precum and the sticky sweat that was already on my hands.
"I want you to look in the mirror."
I glanced at the decorative mirror hung just above the toilet. "I've actually never seen a mirror outside of my mother's makeup case."
"What do you see?"
That was the million-dollar question. Now that I was free to be anyone, who was I? "Someone."
"Someone?"
"Someone strong, happy, loved; I'm just not totally convinced it's actually me."
Jay reached for my hand, jerking his shaft harder, faster. I could feel the moisture, the heat. He locked his strong, intense mouth on my neck, gripping my skin with just enough pressure to leave a love bite.
And then he came all over himself.
After cleaning up we left the bathroom where we were greeted by the sight of Dr. Hwang sitting at her desk. She looked up from her PC screen. "Nice to see you again."
The room was oddly quiet. "Where's my dad?"