The Set Up (6 page)

Pulling out of her, I disposed of the condom and got dressed.

She splayed her body across the bed with her legs wide open. “I hope you’re not finished.”

I looked at her glistening pussy. “Not by a long shot. Just taking a little break.”

Dressing, she followed me out of the room.

Hoots and hollers were everywhere and champagne corks were flying. The City Council had voted yes. The guys and I went downstairs and out near the river with a bottle of whisky to celebrate for a few quiet minutes—toasting to the future and putting the past behind us at the same time, before returning to the party.

Our moods were top-notch. Music was blaring. We drank. We laughed. We mingled, and by mingled I mean flirted. Soon, the tunes turned to hip-hop and Jake was up on the table.

“Do it, break it down,” I shouted.

And he did. Jake was one of the best break-dancers I’d ever known. Growing up on the streets of Detroit, besides rapping, it was probably the only thing we learned that didn’t get us into trouble. In the day, I could hold my own, and so could Will and Drew, but man, Jake just had the moves. Drew had grown too big to throw his hands down on the table and thrust his feet in the air and Will gave it up long ago.

I hadn’t done it in years but last night I was drunk enough that I joined in. Hands. Feet. Shoulders. I moved until the room spun and I had to stop before I fell off the table. Jake was still moving though.

When I jumped down, I turned to watch him. He grinned at me and to my surprise he didn’t have a smart-ass comment about how his stamina was greater than mine.

Arms wrapped around my waist and a head rested on my shoulder. Blue had found me. “Hey, I have someone I want you to meet,” she purred.

Full of adrenaline, I turned around to see a chick with big tits and long red hair. She was gorgeous, and there was a strange familiarity about her that piqued my interest. “I found us a playmate,” Blue whispered in my ear.

By that time I was way too far gone to do anything that wasn’t stupid. In the condition I was in, I should have said no.

I didn’t.

I was on top of the world after all.

And besides, what hot-blooded male would turn away a set of hands caressing his chest and another clawing up his back?

Before I knew it I was in the room I had dibs on, and naked again. Standing beside the bed, my cock was in Red’s hands and Blue’s hands were on the both of us.

“I like it rough,” Red declared.

Okay,
I thought.
I can do rough.
Or I thought I could. I hadn’t had that much to drink in a long time. It was showing. The room was starting to spin. I was really, really drunk.

Red slid her lips down my body and took my more-than-erect cock in her mouth. At least it was still working. No whisky dick was always a good thing. In order to steady myself my hands went to her hair, but then slipped down to her throat.

“Squeeze harder,” she said, biting at the tip of my cock.

I gave her what she wanted and tightened my grip around her neck. The noises she made were loud and I could tell she liked it.

Blue was sitting next to her with one hand on my balls and the other on Red’s pussy. Red sucked me, licked me, and deep-throated me. My vision was starting to blur and honestly, I was so far gone I wasn’t even feeling what she was doing. Finally, I pulled myself out of her mouth and stood utterly still for at least thirty seconds, trying to figure out if I was going to pass out or puke.

“I want you to tie me up,” Red said, looking between Blue and myself.

Blue made a lustful noise and then got up. The room was really spinning by then and I had to sit down. When Blue returned she had two terry-cloth belts from the robes in the bathroom.

I shook my head no and she dropped the belts. Soon enough both of them were all over me, and talking to each other. I had obviously taken the celebration too far. As the minutes passed and the alcohol took its toll, I became increasingly unaware of what was going on. I’m pretty sure they both snorted cocaine off my still-hard cock. Soon, it was difficult to understand who was talking to whom or who was supposed to be doing what.

Hands were all over the place.

A mouth on me.

Another on her, and the other her.

Who was who, I had no idea.

I remember that adrenaline rush I wanted so much but couldn’t achieve. Still, one of them worked me hard enough while I lay on my back unable to move that I eventually came in her mouth. Whoever it was screaming as I did that was coming, too. The noise was too much and I couldn’t get the high I needed. When I looked down, it was Red who rose and wiped her mouth. Blue was still licking at her and then announced it was her turn.

I hoped she wasn’t looking at me. I couldn’t move. The room was upside down and I thought I might puke.

No longer able to participate, I encouraged them to do their own thing. “Let me see the two of you kiss,” I said, or slurred was a better way to put it.

After that, only mere fissures of moments float through my mind. Red kept her red shoes on. Blue had gotten completely naked at some point, and then I think she tied Red to the bed, or maybe that was me. No, not me; I couldn’t move.

I tried to watch, but girl-on-girl was never my thing. Eventually, I found myself drifting.

The sound of the slap of skin awoke me.

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“She was bad,” Red quipped with my leather belt in her hand.

I blinked and blocked it all out as she lashed Blue with my belt. Nuts, they were fucking nuts. Nodding back off, another slap, this time against my face, roused me.

“Let’s fuck,” Red whispered in my ear.

That time I did say no and then I turned over and passed the fuck out for real.

I have no idea what they did for the rest of the night.

And that’s all I remember.

The night was just fucking bizarre.

Threesomes were ruined for me for life.

Thank fuck they’d both cut out early and we got to avoid the awkwardness of the morning after.

Shaking off last night’s mishaps, I slowly slide out of bed and get dressed. Surprisingly, I’m not as hung over as I should be for all I drank. It’s early, but I have a lot going on today, and I want to run home and shower before heading over to 8 Mile Road for the day’s celebration.

When I slip my feet into the new shoes Will made me buy for last night’s event, I notice they’re dirty. Upon closer inspection, I notice mud is splattered all over them.

What the fuck?

“Hey, Drew!” I yell.

There is a thump against the wall.

Did he just throw something at me?

Fuck, no!

With a smile plastered on my face, I gather my shit. Leaving the mess behind me, I saunter over to the other bedroom. I don’t bother to knock. He’s obviously awake. With a push, I lean against the doorframe and let the door open. “Hey asshole, what happened outside last—” I stop.

It’s not Drew. It’s Will, and he’s not alone. In fact he’s about to mount some woman. Her glasses are on the bedside table.
Holy fuck!
It’s the naughty secretary. I guess she doesn’t belong to Alex, or if she does, he doesn’t mind sharing.

At the sight, I quickly turn around. “Sorry, man. Catch you later.”

Well, that was unexpected.

Barging in on Drew or even Jake with a chick wouldn’t have fazed me, but Will, he’s different. He hardly ever ends up with a woman in his bed. He has all kinds of issues—they aren’t smart enough, they were too drunk, they have baggage, he didn’t see it going anywhere. The list goes on and on.

Mommy issues.

I feel kind of bad for intruding. Laughing at myself for caring, I quickly leave the suite, wondering where Drew and Jake landed.

When the valet pulls up with my sleek black Storm, the first thing I do is check for scratches. I really don’t like leaving my car outdoors overnight. Down here, punks are lurking in the dark looking to key any car they can. I know this because there was a time I was one. No damage that I can see, but water drips from the wheel wells. I glance around and notice the streets are also wet. That’s right; it started to rain last night just as the guys and I were going back inside.

Looking back at the hotel, I can’t help but wonder if I hadn’t just simply passed out last night and if my fucked-up threesome wasn’t just a dream.

Or a nightmare.

I shake it off, knowing it was too real to have been either, and I just want to forget it.

Once in my car, a strange melancholy falls over me. Twenty years ago today my life changed forever. The man I loved and looked up to, the man I wanted to be just like, who walked too fast and talked too fast, had big dreams and made even bigger promises, and loved me more than anyone—my father—died.

So even though my apartment isn’t that far away, I decide to go to the last place he was alive. The place he loved and the place I want to own, to turn something bad into something good.

To dream big—for him.

And so even though I have to go there again in a few hours, I head farther north and drive out to 8 Mile Road so that I can be alone. Later, I know I won’t have the chance.

Wheels on the pavement, I feel a strange sense of calm.

A feeling like maybe life isn’t the shit I grew up thinking it was.

Things are finally coming together.

It’s early on a Saturday morning, so traffic is light on the Chrysler Freeway and I get there in less than twenty minutes. I’ve been out here hundreds of times. It still looks the same, but today it feels a little different.

A sense of closure is in the air.

The ruins of what’s left from the explosion remain virtually as they stood twenty years ago.

Desolate.

Sad.

But soon all of that will be gone.

That night was one of unexpected tragedy that led to years of despair. So many men and women were working at the factory and many more in the surrounding area. The explosion occurred at 2:37 a.m. in the workshop, which polished wheel hubs. Rescuers pulled over four hundred bodies from the site—all dead. People in the area were badly burned, maimed, or in need of serious care. Television footage showed them being airlifted, their bodies black, clothes burned off and their skin exposed.

The subsequent investigation showed the blast was actually a dust explosion, which is caused by the combustion of particles in the air of an enclosed space. The particles were powdered metal that came into contact with either a spark, an overheated surface, or electrical discharge from machinery.

The investigation was closed without any further determination and blamed on improper equipment maintenance. The rumors were that it was something Adam Lane and my father should have been well aware of. Tom Worth handled the business side, and for the most part his name remained untarnished.

Large plumes of thick, black smoke rose from the plant that night, and I’ll never forget looking at them and knowing my life would never be the same.

Shaking off the memory of what the sky looked like, I get back on track. The gate is unlocked, so I drive onto the property. It’s nothing unusual. Punks are always breaking in. Disrespecting the no trespassing sign. Dirt-bike racing. Drinking. Throwing parties. Soon that will change.

Later today, this place will provide new hope for the city. But now as I stare at the land and try to envision what the new factory will look like, and how it will change everything, I’m suddenly transported back in time to when I was eight years old, almost nine.

“Dad, Dad, you’re home!” I yell as he comes through the front door.

He squats down and ruffles my hair. “How’s my boy?”

“I’m great. I drew a picture in Art class today.”

“You did? Let me see it.”

“It’s in the kitchen,” I tell him and head that way.

My mother is at the stove. She’s not happy. That’s nothing new. She’s always upset when he’s late. I think she misses him.

“Hi, Lynne.” He greets my mother with a kiss to her cheek just as she’s adding the ground meat to her pot of spaghetti sauce. I hate when she adds meat to the sauce. It makes it taste disgusting. My father is holding his hand behind his back and I know why. He’s ticked her off again or is going to tick her off again and is attempting to soothe the burn with flowers. He always does that. And it always works. She loves flowers. In fact, she works part-time at a local nursery in the summer when I’m at camp.

My mother looks at him and smiles. “You’re home late.”

Just as I suspected, he hands her a bouquet of flowers. They’re her favorite. Pink roses. “I know. I’m sorry, baby. There’s just so much work to get done and not only did Tom call in sick today, but Adam left early.”

This time when her eyes lift to his, she smiles and tosses her arms around his neck. He buries his face in her neck before he pulls away.

Yuck.
Now that that’s over, I can pipe up. “Mom, Charlie’s dad was at school today. Mrs. Lane must be sick too.”

She gives me a nod and reaches for a vase. “Something must be going around. I hope you don’t catch it.”

My father looks at her. Then at the wineglass on the counter beside her. The one that is never empty. He doesn’t say anything about it. He never does. “Since Adam was out, I went ahead and decided to add an extra shift, and I have to go back in later tonight to make sure the work gets done.”

She frowns at him as she puts the flowers in water. “Luke. You’re almost never home anymore.”

He scoops her off her feet. “Beautiful, it’s all for you and the boy. I want to give you both everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything you deserve.”

Her frown quickly turns into a smile as she shakes her head. “You’re such a sweet-talker.”

Sometimes he can make her smile without flowers. I like those times. It makes me smile. I rifle through my backpack. “Dad, look—here’s my picture.”

He takes it and stares at it. It’s pretty good. Two people under the hood of a car that looks like the car out in the garage. The old Mustang that he loves even though it doesn’t run. He looks at me and then back at the picture, and I swear his brown eyes go a little misty. “Is that you and me, Jasper?”