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DISCLAIMER: The following story and series are fictional. While real life places in and around the City of Tampa, Florida are used, a lot has been changed from it's real life counterparts. The story will have sex between teenage boys with each other. There is also gay sex between adult couples in later chapters. If you are underage for your jurisdiction, or it is against the law, do not read.
~.~
SERIES NOTE: The Tampa Chronicles Series is set in my hometown of Tampa, FL. There is currently 3 books in the series with a fourth in the works. Here is the break down of books and number of chapters.
Series Title: Tampa Chronicles Book 1: A New Life - 1 Chapter Book 2: My Son - 7 Chapters Book 3: A Few Days in the Life of Jeremy Isen - 5 Chapters Book 4: Being written - Final book of the series.
Originally posted on Gay Authors: https://gayauthors.org/stories/browse/series/the-tampa-chronicles/
Author's Note: {{Text within double bracketts are inner monologues.}}
Credits: I need to acknowledge my editing team on GA... Backwoods Boy, Mikiesboy. They are a god send.
~.~
The Tampa Chronicles 2 — My Son
TC2 — Chapter 3: Meet Tibot, Adam's Brother
"Call me."
Those two simple words sent a chill down Adam's spine. After staring at the open email, he glanced at the now empty bottle of whiskey.
"I'm not drunk enough to call him yet." Adam stood up and walked across the house. He tossed the empty bottle into the recycle bin. The sound of the glass bottles, as they clinked on each other, was deafening in the still silent air of the pantry. He walked over to the wine closet and took out a bottle of wine. Popping the cork and grabbing a wine glass, he let it breathe while he headed back to the library.
"Call me."
Adam's eyes caught the phrase as he sat back down. He stuck the Bluetooth receiver in his ear, synced it with his phone, and then dialed the number he hadn't used for over fifteen years. He poured himself a glass of wine and took a sip while the phone rang.
"Hello?" Tibot's voice was warm.
"You wanted me to call you, Tibot," Adam said. He sipped the wine and adjusted the chair so he could lean back in it.
"Adam. It's good to hear your voice. I didn't recognize the number at first with the 813 area code, and hadn't realized you moved back to Tampa."
Adam sat with a pained expression on his face. He remembered the fight, fifteen years ago, like it was yesterday. "You would have, had you read the last email I sent you."
"I don't want to fight with you, Adam. I... I want to talk." Adam picked up the remorse in his brother's voice.
"Sorry. Please go on. I'm listening." Adam's anger dissipated.
"Thank you." Tibot paused as he cleared his throat. Adam assumed his brother was drinking, having heard ice ring in the glass. "I've wanted to talk to you for the past month, and even tried to call the number I have for you in Cambridge. It's hard not being close to family, or having to contact people via email. Only Mom and Dad talk to me when I call. I'm in a twelve-step program, and I want to make amends."
"You burned a lot of bridges. Dad's family won't talk to us anymore, because of what you did to them, and Mom's, well, they still talk to us, but you're not mentioned." Adam paused. He hadn't wanted to turn this into a rehash, but here they were. "You hurt me. I could have forgiven you for the drug use. I could have forgiven the theft of money, my property, and my car. But then you bold-faced lied to our family, my friends, and to the authorities. Some things can never be forgiven, and that lie you told was one of them." He paused again, calming down. "How long have you been sober?"
"It's been two years and six months. Not one drug or a drop of alcohol. I'm living in a halfway-house over here in Clearwater for recovering addicts, and they're getting me the help I need."
"I applaud you for seeking help. I hope it works out for you..." The unspoken, 'this time' hung in the silence. However, the sincerity of Adam's voice conveyed the honesty of his statement.
"Well for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I did a lot wrong. Stealing from you and the family was bad, but it's the rest...." Adam waited in silence while Tibot paused. "Sorry, it's the rest I can't forgive myself for. I was mad at you refusing to help. I ... wanted you to feel as shit as I did. So, I told them you raped me."
Adam sat silently. He thought back to the incident some fifteen years ago. Tibot had gotten into drugs during high school, and when he turned eighteen, he squandered the inheritance he got on them. He was in and out of recovery programs for years, and Adam did everything he could for his brother. Even when Tibot alienated himself with their extended family, Adam stood by his brother.
After Adam graduated from M.I.T. and was setting himself up in Boston, he let Tibot move in with him. For a year, little things went missing, and cash was taken out of his accounts. Then on a drug-fueled binge weekend, Tibot stole Adam's car and ended up in a robbery. It was his first offense, so the DA went lenient with him, and suggested a pre-trial intervention program.
However, Adam was done with Tibot. He refused to let him back into his apartment, and he was done paying for his rehab. Tibot was mad and hurt, so he accused Adam of raping him as a fourteen-year-old. Because the statute of limitations hadn't expired, the State of Florida had to investigate the six-year-old accusation. If it hadn't been for records supplied by Duncan's family showing Adam was working on the day of the alleged rape, and staying over at their house for the duration of the summer, the case might have progressed further than it did. The fallout from Tibot's years of drug use and the rape accusation splintered the family. Adam disowned his brother and refused to have any contact with him, except through email.
"Are you still there, Adam?"
"I am." Adam let out a long sigh and downed the first glass of wine. He poured himself a second one. "I forgive you, Tibot, for everything but the lie. I can't forgive that. Not right now."
"I understand. So, you have a son? Does that mean you're not gay? Or are you bisexual?"
"No, I'm gay. This happened on my twenty-first birthday. You remember I told you what Michelle did to me?"
"I do. She basically raped you on your birthday."
"Well, it was questionable consent by today's standards. I may have been drunk, but I said yes. She did take advantage of me, though. It turns out she ended up pregnant. When she left college voluntarily, she never mentioned to me she was carrying my child, nor did she get an abortion. If you remember, her family is Catholic. Fast forward to two-thousand and eighteen, and I get a call from Florida DCF, saying I have a son. Under Massachusetts law, because Robert was born out of wedlock, the father isn't listed on the birth certificate. Michelle named me as the father in her will and confessed to what she did to me in it as well. I'm not sure if Rob has heard that part or not." He paused taking a drink of the wine.
"So, Florida's DCF was contacted by Massachusetts' DCF, to contact me about taking him after he went into foster care. This is because Michelle's parents and sister refused to take him in. They signed away custody to the state when they learned he was gay."
"Why did they do that for?"
"I don't know fully, except that they're homophobes."
"It's a load of bullshit. You don't turn away family for being gay. For all my faults, Adam, I've always loved you, even when you came out. I would love any gay family member we have."
"Thanks," Adam said. He took another drink of the wine, finishing off the second glass, and pouring a third. "Truth-be-told, Tibot, I've never stopped loving you. I can't deal with the lies, drugs, and everything else negative you brought to my life. I also have a son now to worry about."
"I know, and I understand." Tibot took a drink of his own. "So is it permanent custody?"
"Not yet. The case has been transferred to Florida and is in Family Court here. I have temporary custody of him, pending judicial review. But his maternal grandparents are fucking with the case. They did something to make Massachusetts delay sending him to Florida, and required me to get a paternity test. Now they are trying to make me pay sixteen years of back child support and half of the health insurance payments for Robert to a dead woman. "
"Well, I'm glad you got him, and I hope I can meet him someday."
"Someday," Adam said. "Do you have any kids?"
"No. One of my girlfriends did get pregnant, but she had an abortion. Would not have been my choice, but it was her body. She told me after the procedure. If there are any kids out there, don't know about them. I'm normally really good about using protection, and not just to keep my girl from getting pregnant."
"How did you end up in the shelter?"
"Court ordered. I was busted dealing and did a couple of years before getting parole. That's why I didn't respond to your last few emails. Mom and Dad didn't know either, before you ask."
The two brothers talked for another hour, catching up on significant events in each other's lives. When Adam finally disconnected the call, he looked at the now-empty wine bottle. Feeling more than a little buzzed, he shut down the laptop and stumbled his way to bed.
~.~
Robert awoke from a nightmare. His heart raced, and he panted trying to catch his breath. As he calmed down, he sat up in bed against his headboard and drew his knees in. Tears started to slide down his cheeks, as the last visions of the terrible dream left him. {{What the hell was that? Why is this happening to me? I'm scared, but I know I shouldn't be. Why am I feeling like I'm betraying Mom? If anything, she betrayed me. She's the one who lied about my father. She's the one who kept me from him. I wish... this didn't have to happen.}}
He checked the time on his phone: almost 7:30 am on Wednesday, March 7, 2018. Instead of going back to sleep, Robert decided to stay up. He walked into his bathroom and started the shower to get the water warm. Robert stripped out of his boxers, tossed them into a laundry hamper, and looked at himself in the mirror. The bruises from his time in foster care had turned a lighter shade of black and blue. I should tell Adam the truth about what happened. He ran his hand over the stubble of a beard on his face. It was a patchy affair and grew slowly, but he felt he would need to shave it off soon.
He stepped into the steamy hot shower and let the water wash away his worries. Taking the soap and washcloth, he lathered himself up. When he washed his manhood, it reacted to his touch, growing to its full length. {{How long has it been? I haven't nutted a load since the group home before I was beaten by those two boys.}} The memory of the assault deflated him some, but the warm water and sensation of stroking himself got him back to hardness. Robert quickly stroked himself to a release, sending a torrent of semen across the shower. He used the handheld shower to rinse himself and the shower stall clean.
~.~
Adam woke up with a throbbing headache and a massive need to piss. He stumbled out of his bed and groaned all the way to the bathroom. After a quick trip through the shower, he stopped at what the builder called a morning bar - a simple wet bar with a built-in coffee maker, small microwave, sink, and mini-fridge - in his bedroom and grabbed a bottle of Pedialyte. Adam wasn't a heavy drinker, but he liked to keep a few bottles around just for this type of occasion. A quick glance at the clock told him it was 8:15 am. He slid on a fresh set of boxer-briefs and track shorts and left the master retreat. He stopped briefly in the library to grab the empty wine bottle and glass from the night before, along with his phone. Adam sipped from the Pedialyte as he went.
{{Smells like something's burning. What is Rob up to?}} Adam made his way to the kitchen on the other side of the house. He rounded the small corner and stopped, looking at the state the kitchen was in. The center island had flour on it from where Robert had rolled out dough, which still sat there. Dirty bowls, measuring cups, and spoons littered several of the cabinets, some still containing ingredients. The aroma of brewing coffee was mixed with the smell of burnt beef. He had left the water running in the prep sink and stood in front of the stove---where he had just put out a small grease fire.
"Fuck... Had to be a gas stove," Robert said softly to himself. He was wearing his boxers and a t-shirt and was covered in flour.
"Would you like some help?"
Robert jumped and nearly dumped the skillet of hamburger meat all over the stove. "Shit... you scared me, Dad!"
"Oops, sorry... I should have made more noise." Adam placed the dirty wine glass in the main sink, turned the water off at the prep sink, and then tossed the wine bottle into the recycling.
"Please, I could use some help. I never used gas before, and I think I burned stuff," Robert said sheepishly.
"Okay. Tell me what to do, and I'll help. What were you trying to make?"
"Biscuits and country gravy, but I didn't find any sausage. So I was using the small packet of hamburger I found in the freezer. After I quick-thawed it in the microwave."
"Your grandma fixes it with hamburger too, and calls it 'shit on a shingle' when she uses toast instead of biscuits."
Robert told Adam how to finish the biscuits, while he salvaged the ground beef. As the biscuits baked in the oven, Adam cleaned the counters, did the dishes, and swept the floor while Robert finished the gravy. After the food was done, the two sat at the island bar and ate the meal.
"This is good, Son. Where did you learn to make it?"
"Home Economics back in school. It's what I was taking this year as an elective. Plus, Mom and Granny had been teaching me." Robert became sullen at the mention of his mother and grandmother. "I just never used gas before." He looked down and away. "Sorry I made a mess."
"Don't worry about it. Making a mess is half of the fun. Besides, we tagged-teamed it, and it's almost all clean now. I mean it... this is perfect. You're much better than me." Adam gave him a smile and rubbed his back quickly. "If you want to keep learning, I know Duncan will teach you a few things. Don't let him fool you, he's an excellent chef, and has made some fantastic dinners for us and a few others. His soon-to-be-ex is out of her mind."
Robert smiled at the praise and glanced over at his dad. This was the second morning he'd seen his dad with just shorts on, but it was the first time he really looked at him. He was impressed with what he saw of his father. Unlike him, Adam didn't have any tattoos. {{Damn, my dad is a gorgeous man. No wonder Mom wanted to be with him.}} "Thanks," he said with a blush. "I'll ask Duncan when he gets back."
The two men finished eating and cleaned the rest of the kitchen together.
"I'm gonna hit the machines and do my Wednesday workout if you want to join." Adam smiled and went to the exercise bike. He mounted it and fired up a program to work his legs and cardio.
"Sure, Dad... just give me a moment to change, and I'll hit the treadmill."
"Great. When you come back, can you bring a couple of towels, and that bottle of Pedialyte, please?"
Robert nodded and went to change. He came back with the requested items, keeping one towel for himself, and hopped on the treadmill.
"What's the Pedialyte for Dad? Is it a good workout drink?"
Adam chuckled. "Not sure about workouts, but it's great for hangovers." Adam paused to swallow some of the drink. "Had a call last night with my brother, your uncle, Tibot... and ended up going through a bottle of wine."
"Really? Why?"
Adam paused in thought. "I'll be honest with you Rob. He did something to me, years ago, that I haven't forgiven him for, not yet anyway, and it's caused me not to speak to him for fifteen years. Don't get me wrong, I love Tibot, but I still can't be around him right now."
"It must have been nasty," Robert said and went silent. {{If Dad can't forgive his brother for something, then what does that mean for Mom and me? Does that mean I'll never forgive her?}} Robert used the towel to wipe his face off, to hide the tears that had started.
"It was... hurtful, and it got the Tampa Police and Florida Department of Law Enforcement involved in my life," Adam paused and looked over to his son. {{Are his eyes red?}} "Tibot got addicted to heroin, cocaine, meth, and was in and out of rehab for years. It's why I have zero-tolerance for drug use. After I graduated from college, I had him move in with me, up in Boston. He stole from me and then was arrested for a strong-arm robbery. The rest of our family was done with him before this, but I stayed with him... until this time. The jewelry he stole was my grandmother's wedding ring, and some other stuff I got from her, and he pawned it for drugs. I never got it back."
Adam paused, remembering the painful experience again. "I had stood by him for years, but now I was done. I refused to help him, so he told the District Attorney I raped him when he was fourteen. Since he was twenty at the time, and the statutes of limitations had not expired here in Florida, they opened a case against me. But I was working with Duncan and his family and stayed over there during that summer, so I had an alibi. Charges were dropped, and it was deleted from my records. After that, I only had contact with him via email. We've talked a couple of times, and saw each other on a holiday when I came home from Boston once, but never really talked. Well, until last night. We were on the phone for over an hour, and I drained a bottle of wine."
Robert was silent, listening to his father. He shook his head some and looked off. "Perhaps this is something you can discuss with the therapist... like why I'm starting to feel like Mom betrayed me... I love her, but I'm starting to hate her for keeping us apart." There was no denying or hiding the tears now. They streaked Robert's cheeks as he ran on the treadmill. "I... I really don't know how to feel about that."
Adam was torn. He slowed down and stopped pedaling while watching his son for clues. He wanted to hold Robert, but at the same time he wanted to wait and see how it played out.
"Don't blame Michelle. She was doing what she felt was right. If I had to guess, she didn't want her parents to know I was your father."
"It doesn't excuse it...," Robert said. He ran faster. It looked like he was trying to run away from his problems. "There's more, Dad... you... you saw the bruises. I got them at the group home. Word got out I was gay, and two of the boys cornered me in the shower. They beat me with wet towels that had bars of soap in them..."
Adam was stunned. Fury like he had never known boiled in him. He slid off the exercise bike and stepped over to his son. Adam pressed the stop button on the treadmill and extended a hand to Robert who took it. Adam pulled the two of them into a sweaty embrace, as he held his son close to his chest. "I'm sorry that happened to you. Did... did you report it?"
"I did. I don't think anything happened, as all they did was take an incident report. I didn't speak with police or anything. But they moved me to a single temp home before I came here. I... I took a copy of the report. I had a bad feeling, and made a copy of it."
Adam didn't want to let go. He held onto his son and tried to lend him his strength and love through the embrace. "We'll get this sorted out. I'm glad you took a copy of the report." He kissed the top of his son's head. "I love you, Robert, and I'm going to make this right."
"Thanks, Dad."
Adam's phone rang, and he excused himself to take the call. It turned out to be the family therapist confirming they had an opening for Friday morning. He accepted the appointment and went to the library. He sat down at the desk and started his laptop. With reminders set for the therapist appointments, he looked at the rest of his to-do list for the day.
~.~
"There was nothing about an assault in the file they sent us," Sylvia said. "But if he got a copy of the incident form, then we can use that."
"What can we do about this? Is it too late? Am I going to have to file a lawsuit?" Adam asked. He'd called Sylvia, immediately after scheduling the appointment, to make arrangements for the Friday visit with her.
"I'm really not sure. My advice is to call the Boston Police Department and file a report, and have your lawyer file a motion with the judge. I would start a negligence lawsuit against the state of Massachusetts." Sylvia paused a moment. "I'll see what we can do from here. But get me a copy of that incident report, and anything else Robert has copies of. ... I'm sorry this happened, Adam. It's sad, but it's common that gay youth are targeted for assault in the system. Most often it's sexual assault."
"Oh, my God... he didn't say if he was or not... just physically beaten," Adam let out a long sigh, and held his head in his left hand, while his right held his phone. "How do I ask if he was?"
"Ask him directly, and go from there. Don't put words in his mouth, or suggest that he was. If he wasn't, thank God. If he was, it's too late to do any sexual assault kit, but add it to the report."
"Thank you, Sylvia."
"Good luck."
~.~
Adam knocked on Robert's bedroom door about an hour later, after getting off the phone with his cousin, Carol Smith, the family court lawyer. "Hey Robert, are you decent?"
"Um, give me a moment Dad," Robert's reply was nearly a squeak.
"Alright, son." Adam chuckled, shaking his head. {{Oh, to be a teenager again.}}
"Alright, come in."
Adam opened the door and stepped inside. There was a little bit of steam coming out of the bathroom, and Robert had wet hair and a towel around his waist. "Hey... sorry. I didn't think you were in the shower. I can come back after you're dressed."
"Yeah, I finished running while you were on the phone. You don't have to leave. What's up?"
"I was going to ask for the incident report, and any other paperwork you might have gotten. Sylvia needs it, and Carol, our cousin and the lawyer for our custody case, does too."
Robert nodded and went over to his backpack. Adam watched as his son moved across the room, and felt a pang of guilt and hurt. {{I missed so much with him. His first word, first step, first day at school... Fuck, I even lost the experience of being there for his first love. I'm here now, and I'm not going to leave him.}}
"Here you go, Dad." Robert handed him the file folder. "That's the incident report and other things that were in the file. Emma, the admin assistant, copied the whole thing. Anything else?"
"Yeah... one last thing Rob." Adam held the file in his hand and sat down in the desk chair.
"Have a seat."
"I'd rather stand. I don't have underwear on..." His voice trailed off.
"Ah... okay." Adam cleared his throat. "I have one question, which Sylvia asked me. When you were beaten by those boys... did they sexually assault you?"
"Oh, God no..." Robert sucked in air. He sat down, not caring about modesty now. "It wasn't the only time either. They tried earlier that day, one did at least, and I kicked his ass. But that night, in the group shower, he and his friend cornered me... They weren't supposed... to be in there, and I was already being transferred because of the earlier fight... One of the male social workers happened to check the showers... and they bolted out the side door. It's... it's all in the report." He rubbed his face several times and hugged himself at the end.
As Adam listened, he felt his fury from earlier return. He grumbled to himself, which solicited a look from Robert. "Sorry son. It just pisses me the fuck off that it happened to you. If your grandparents hadn't interfered, you would have been here sooner."
"They... they interfered with the custody case?"
Adam nodded, and let out a long calming breath. "Yeah, they did. It's the reason we had to do a paternity test, and why the state of Massachusetts is now seeking sixteen years of back child support, and medical insurance payments."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know..."
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Rob." Adam sighed again. "You didn't harden their hearts. They did that to themselves."
The pair grew silent and looked down, each uncomfortable for his own reasons. Robert stood quickly, pulling his towel around, and tucking it more securely. Adam rose also. "Well, I think I will let you tend to things... and I'll get this to Carol and Sylvia." He held up the folder as he left the room and returned to the library.
~.~
The day passed with the two men busy running all over town. More calls to Sylvia, Carol, the Boston Police Department, and looking for a lawyer to handle the lawsuit against the state of Massachusetts. Copies of the file were delivered to the appropriate offices, and certified copies were sent to Boston PD. A late lunch and a return trip home rounded out their day together. Adam's business partner called, and they discussed plans to meet up Thursday to talk about the project.
~.~
Adam and Robert sat on the family room couches and chilled after a hectic day.
Robert lay stretched out on his couch, on his side, with his eyes closed. {{I hate today. So many things I didn't want to talk about.}} He glanced up at his dad, who sat across from him flipping through the stations, looking for some program to watch. {{I don't think I could have asked for a better father. He's placed his life on hold for me, and we've only been together for three days now. I heard the worry in his voice when he talked about the properties earlier. I hope Dad can figure it out.}}
Adam was preoccupied. {{Shit. Fourteen billion channels and I can't find anything on.}} He glanced over at his son on the other couch. With his eyes closed, he seemed to be sleeping. {{He's such a good kid. He's handling this a thousand times better than I ever would. For his sake, I hope all of this gets done soon, so he can put it all behind himself and move on.}}
He finally settled on NHL Network and watched the On the Fly updates. {{Who would have thought I would have a son that loved hockey as much as I do. Too bad it's the Bruins. I guess I can add on the NHL Center Ice package for him so that he can watch their games. Okay, more stuff to make a note of.}}
{{So, I've got to meet Jace tomorrow about the restaurant and brewery project. I don't know what to do now. I could go silent partner on that, or pull out altogether... will need to talk to Jace about this tomorrow. If all else fails, I can find some other business to get into. I have a son now, and I... need to think about that tomorrow.}}
Adam stretched out on his couch and looked over at Robert who snored a little. {{He has the right idea.}}
It wasn't long before both men were napping on the couches.