This is a mobile proxy. It is intended to visit the IOMfAtS Story Shelf on devices that would otherwise not correctly display the site. Please direct all your feedback to the friendly guy over at IOMfAtS!

The Redemption, Book 2

by Joe Writer Man

Chapter 17

*-* Nathan's POV *-*

Just as Joey left the house I went to my room and shut the door. "That son of a bitch always leaves when the heat gets too hot." I grumbled to myself with disgust firmly etched in my brain.

I stripped to my underwear, headed to the john to take care of some unfinished business, entered, sat down and let it rip. God, mom's lasagna is killer, must be the spices and stuff she puts into it... and the garlic... sheesh.

I received a text message from Donnie. It read: Come on down. You can spend the night. Whatcha doing?

I giggled as I typed: Taking a shit. LOL.

Donnie typed back: TMI <g>. Seriously, come on down.

I thought about it for all of 5 seconds before writing: Nah, not tonight. Timmy's being all crazy and shit again :-( Joey left.

"WHAT???"

This was getting annoying, "Joey went for a walk or something. Timmy hit him. I'm staying here."

"Sorry. Call me later."

"K."

A long slider was passing. Crash across the hall. Timmy was screaming. Dad was hollering. Derrick was hollering. Crash. Bang. Thump.

Pinch. Quick swipe. I wasn't done. No time.

Mom was in the hallway looking into Timmy's room. A shoe came flying out the door. I grabbed mom and pushed her into my room. I commanded, "Stay here!" That is not the right thing to say to your mother but when shit is going down you just do it. No thoughts – just do it.

"Joey, where in the holy fuck are you?" I thought angrily.

I heard a skin on skin contact. Dad yelled, "Timothy Jenkins, you stop that right now!"

I looked into his room.

I saw red.

Timmy was standing in the middle of his room, in a fighter's stance. Dad was going toward him. Derrick was lying on the floor on the other side of Timmy's bed holding his nose that was bleeding profusely.

Dad reached Timmy first.

Timmy swung and connected with dad's face.

"Mom call the cops!" I screamed then I launched, holding back nothing, going for everything, hoping to connect with anything to get Timmy off of dad before someone got seriously hurt.

I connected with Timmy's head and shoulders in a full body slam which sent us to the floor kicking and screaming, gouging and going for everything. All of my anger toward him, bottled up inside from him sucker punching Joey earlier and then dad, giving Derrick a bloody nose, and the sight of him connecting with dad's face … was just too much. I let him have it. "You little fuckwit, you want to act like you're on the streets then here you go."

Timmy was much lighter than me. His rage was gone. Mine was just beginning. It unleashed. Only an act of providence would and could save Timmy. He was lying helpless on the floor. That did not stop me, would not stop me.

With a growl that would scare off a bear I raised up my arms to come down with the lethal blow. I made it about half way then found myself being picked up and being totally wrapped up in an arm lock. I struggled. I fought. And then I stopped, "Nathan, stop. It's over. Just stop."

As the steam was being quickly cooled I looked directly into Timmy's face and said with all the venom I had at the time, "You son of a bitch." I wrenched away from dad's arms, turned and walked into mom standing in the doorway. She stepped aside. At the same time I met her eyes but only briefly because I was in no condition to psychologically analyze the situation with Timmy, or our family for that matter.

I returned to the bathroom, closed and locked the door then sat back down to finish that which wasn't yet done. A wave of anger rushed through my mind, I half screamed, half yelled, "I'm outta here. I'm not going to live with this shit. Nobody gives one good goddamned fuck about Joey and me. I thought we'd be safe here but we're not. Joey is doing what he's always done. He's holding it in. And he always ran away when our brother unleashed his anger on us for no reason. I'M NOT LIVING LIKE THIS!"

Then... then... it happened. Tears began freely streaming from my eyes, and then sobs began escaping... racking sobs. In my haste to leave the bathroom the first time, I saw that my cell phone was lying on the shower floor. I couldn't reach it. I was going to text message Joey to ask him where he the fuck was so that I could join him. We could make it. I'd do everything I could do to make sure we made it. If I had to turn my ass up then I could do that. As I was thinking those thoughts I heard sirens in the background, and they were getting closer and closer until they stopped, seemingly just outside the bathroom window.

A knock, dad's knock interrupted my thoughts. I said, "What?"

"Son, are you okay?"

"I'm always okay. Be out in a minute." I groused, though I was no longer out of control angry and raging. I just wanted to go to fucking bed and sleep. Hopefully everything would just go away and we'd wake up the following morning like nothing had ever happened, like it was just a nightmare or a bad dream.

"Nathan, the police are here. You need to get some clothes on, son."

"Great, just fucking great." I groused clearly annoyed, but not loud enough for anybody to hear. "Okay, I'm just about done in here." I said suddenly feeling calmer.

After one more great exertion with final success I cleaned up, flushed, washed my hands then stood at the door stealing the strength to exit the seemingly safest place in the house. I put my hand on the door knob but held my finger on the lock... needing to leave... yet not wanting to leave... all at the same time. I took in a deep, deep breath, exhaled slowly, then turned the lock to unlocked. Immediately the door opened. Dad lifted me from my feet and carried me into my room, closed the door and said directly into my face, "Nathan, we are not going to live like this. I won't have it. The police are at the front door."

Tears again sprang from my eyes and traveled down my cheeks and fell on my chest. Dad reached out his arms, took hold of my shoulders and pulled me into his chest. I cried, "Dad, I can't live this way, I can't."

Just then a light knock on the door was heard. It was mom's knock. Dad opened the door. Mom stuck her head inside and said the police were there and that she had to let them in. Then she turned to the door next to mine and said, "Timmy, stay right there. Do not move."

"Okay honey, we'll be right out." Dad said to mom.

Dad squeezed me firmly then said, "Put on jeans and a t-shirt then open your door, okay?"

I nodded. He left my room and closed the door behind him. I put on a t-shirt and an old pair of jeans that sagged without a belt. I looked around and could not find the strap to hold my pants up properly. I opened the door then snuck into the bathroom, retrieved my phone and sent a text message to Joey: Home! Now!

*-* Joey's POV *-*

Effortlessly, Jeff lifted me to my feet, drew and mashed our lips together into a liplock, cupped my butt cheeks and pulled them apart, ran his fingers down and through the valley of pleasure, wiggled his fingers so that they could enter that place that required permission... all sorts of things began popping up my head (north of the border head that is)... things such as loving and committing to Skeeter, my old life of whoring and doing dope and drinking, Clare, Wayne, Nathan, Derrick, mom, dad, and Timmy... Timmy... I was away from home for the same reasons I'd left Ma and Nathan alone that one fateful night (and many others, too many to count), and... and... and...

Jeff's finger was becoming very, very insistent. I was fighting entry, yet I wasn't all at the same time. He had triggered 'the itch'. I needed that itch scratch and bathed. I was quickly going over the edge. I had no good reason, as I was getting locked into 'need', to turn his cock away. The first knuckle was invading, invading, and invading some more … until I just gave in, pouted my butt up and out so that his entry was simple, singular and effective... I was lost... the transition from need to want had – arrived -. I was a goner, I knew it, and I didn't care so long as that itch was relieved.

Lustily, needy, wantonly, breathlessly I whispered, "Do you have some lube?"

Never leaving my hole Jeff stretched his free arm wide to reach onto his desk. My eyes never left his, my hands traveled down his butt cheeks and then I dove my own finger deep into that cavern which caused him to take a deep shuddering breath, and then he showed me the bottle of Astroglide, then in one fell swoop he poured a bit of the stuff on his other hand, removed his finger just enough to coat it with the slick stuff then drove it home deep within.

As one, the two of us backpedaled to the bed. Easily I laid down and brought up my legs for easy access to that which brings forward both relief and pleasure. His cock head touched that designated place where only pleasure is experienced. He began pushing for entry. I released all debate, reached my arms down around his lower regions and just began pulling his hips forward when my cell phone chirped twice, notifying me that an incoming text message had arrived.

Jeff's cock was pushing, pushing, his body sweating, his breathing was nothing short of panting, his body needing and wanting, my hole needing to be deeply invaded and speared, my mind needing to be wanted... second by second the back door to my guts was slowly, ever so slowly giving way...

Then my phone began ringing, ringing, ringing, ringing, and a half ring which meant the call was either being ended giving rise to the caller either hanging up or waiting for the prompt to leave a voicemail.

My moment, my concentration, the need, the want... all of it was broken, if only for a moment … but it jad been interrupted for just a second too long.

I put my hands on the front of his shoulders and made an attempt, and succeeded, to lower my legs so that my feet were firmly planted on the floor. My pants were lying on the floor next to the bed. The phone was located in my right front pants pocket.

Jeff sensed the change in plans. He had two choices: the first one was to take me despite my efforts to cease if only for a little while, and the second option was to give into my desires to stop at least for a little while... he chose the later... I was so grateful that he did release me.

I didn't even apologize because actually my brain wasn't totally consumed; only my body was losing control. I knew that my butt was going to leave a trail of slick gooey substance across the bed comforter. Although I didn't want to do that – I did. I reached down to the floor and fetched out my phone from the pocket, raised it, looked at it and only saw: Home! Now! The message was from Nathan's cell phone. It was marked Urgent. The next menu item showed that I had missed a call from Skeeter.

Remembering why I'd left the house brought me full center to attention... my demeanor and facial features must have told Jeff that something wasn't right because he reached for my shirt and helped me into it while I fumbled and stumbled into putting my britches on... once they were up I saw my underwear lying on the floor... I stuffed them into a pocket, tossed on my shoes, and after noticing my socks lying apart from each other stuffed them into another pocket.

"I've got to go home. Something's wrong."

"I'm coming with you." Jeff said while pulling on his long gym shorts.

I said, "No... I'll be okay. I'll call ya later." I quickly headed to the door to his bedroom door, went through it and began walking down the hall to his front door when he said, "You don't have my number..." I replied, "Later..."

I took off for home. Cops, ambulances, and heavy rescue were screaming down the street. They turned onto our street. My pace quickened to a near run... a sinking feeling began settling into my chest... and no it was not because I was out of breath or anything... something just didn't feel right. I thought I heard footsteps behind me but didn't turn around to see an origin, if there was even an origin.

As I turned the corner I saw that those vehicles had made a procession and screeched to a stop in front of -my house-. Cops, ambulance personnel and others were walking/half running to our front door while others circled around, and others stood guard to protect their brethren officers from outside influences, swarthy or not.

I arrived and immediately headed for the front door. Two cops stopped my forward progress. They didn't even ask me who I was so I told them. The officers said I had to stay away because a 911 call had its origins from inside. I fought, saying all the while that the house was mine, and that my family was inside.

I never even saw it coming. I was slammed to the ground, dragged off to the side of my home, and then I was being hit over and over and over and over again... I was being beaten senseless... and then just before total blackness overwhelmed my brain a set of feet began kicking the living shit out of my chest... pain... white hot pain... I tried to move away... but couldn't... and then silence... blissful silence... no pain... I was slinking away... my bladder lost control... my sphincter lost control... I felt the bad stuff slinking, slinking, slinking... then I was left alone after yet one more kick to the gut.

"You little fuck... you should be grateful I didn't kill you. You were obstructing justice you little cocksucker." A voice said. I recognized it yet I didn't either. Blackness settled into my being. I was passing from here to there, or was it there to here? The direction mattered not.

*-* Meanwhile, inside the house, Nathan's POV *-*

"We will NOT live this way." Mom wailed. Continuing, "You, young man, will get out of here with the clothes on your back. You screwed up... it's over... we tried... get the hell up... we are pressing charges... Dave, answer the damn door!" Mom said icily, devoid of any ounce of compassion or motherly tone. I remembered that same voice inflection from Ma on that final night of her life.

I opened that damn door of my bedroom. I was loaded for bear... was I loaded from fear? Was it terror? Was it from memory? Was it of the present? Was it of the unknown? Was it... my family was threatened... my dad had been hit by a raging and out of control bastard son of a bitch who could not keep a family... but there was something else... what was it? What was causing it? A foreboding washed over my skin like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown on me.

I raced out of my room, pushed past mom and into Timmy's room despite mom's admonishments to stay put... I saw Timmy moving... I growled, "You stay the fuck there, don't you dare move one single solitary bone in your body. I've never had to fight anybody before. I hope that I never have to do it again. I'm ashamed of what I did, or had to do. You see, I basically grew up on the streets on the South Side. You fucked up a good thing here you little son of a bitch. Mom and dad, they accepted me and Joey despite our problems. Never once did we raise a hand to them... I took a step toward that devil incarnate but mom jerked my shirt so hard that it tore. She said, "Don't..." but did not have the chance to complete her sentence as dad and two very, very large policemen arrived.

One of the officers manhandled me into the living room... another entered Timmy's room... and dad wrapped his arms round mom... and urged her into the living room also... I would have no part of it... I had to run... and I had to run fast... something was very, very, very wrong... I ran toward the door but was stopped by a police officer... but not for long... I ducked down beneath his crotch and between his legs and then... made it to the porch... an officer was walking up our yard... his eyes were blazing hot... he was wasting no time... I had to run... but run to where? Donnie... Linda... I would run to their house... but that would mean that I abandoned mom and dad... I couldn't do that... that was home... that was stability... until... Joey... I had to get to my brother... but where had he gone to?

I turned around... that officer was quickly coming across the yard... he was just about there... something didn't feel right... the cops on the porch allowed me back into the house... the two officers who I'd confronted on my way out of the house were busy talking to mom who was sitting in a chair in the living room. I headed to the hallway were the same officers were guarding the door... I heard dad's voice... it was coming from Timmy's room... I ducked under an officer's arm... he wasn't aware that I was even there... I entered Timmy's room... Derrick was being helped up by an ambulance attendant... his nose was bleeding... he looked scared... I'd never seen him scared before... of anything.

Sensing someone else in the room, seeming from instinct, dad turned around and saw me standing right behind him. He said, "Nathan, go ahead and leave this to us... go help mom calm down... she's pretty much afraid..." To Timmy he continued, "in her own home."

Dad then reached for Timmy's hand. When Timmy didn't take his offer, he took hold of Timmy's wrist and stood him up leaving no doubt that dad was in charge. He wasn't violent or anything… he had just taken hold of him and let him know exactly who the boss was within our home. There was no doubt that Timmy had peed his pants, they were wet from his crotch down to his shoes. Also the stench of feces overspreading the otherwise clean but battered room was nearly overwhelming, and he was continuing to shit his pants, you could hear gas escaping, and no it was not piped in natural gas that you would normally think of.

Timmy lowered his head … in … what was it? Shame? Guilt? His past? His present? His future? Uncertainty? Hopelessness? Futility? What was it?

Something snapped in Timmy right then and there on the spot. Dad saw something change as well. Dad let go of Timmy's arm, though he kept a wary watch on him. Timmy sat back down on the wet brown stain on the carpet. He dejectedly lowered his head in his arms that were crossed across his knees.

Everything became ethereal quiet... like the world had stopped spinning... like industry came to a halt... like a heart beat stopped... like respirations ceased... like nothing I'd ever experienced in my life before... yet shards of pain were in my chest threatening to remove my life forces...

Something changed right then and there... my anger was no longer present... I felt no anger... but I felt some kind of dream, the likes I'd never before experienced, and that I have not experienced since that night.

Timmy raised his head. Our eyes locked. He was terrorized. I had been terrorized. We all had been stricken with terror... where was Joey though? Why hadn't he answered my text message? He always answered them whether or not he'd been busy or just fucking around in general.

Then Derrick did something weird: he walked to Timmy's dresser, fetched several items of clothing, then walked to the closet where he gathered up a pair of jeans hanging on a coat hanger, and a shirt neatly folded on a shelf, then a pair of socks, then he reached down for Timmy's shoes but stopped and looked first at Timmy, then to dad, then to me, then to each of the police officers. He turned back to Timmy, walked to him, and then took hold of his shoulder and led the boy into the bathroom and closed the door.

What? What the fuck? Why? The little fuckwit threatened our security, destroyed our serenity, and made our fucking house a war zone... what the fuck? I mean what the fuck...

Dad looked at me questioningly. Confusion on his face quickly replaced any sense of danger. He looked just as surprised as anybody. Even the officers looked puzzled.

Just then their radios crackled;

Dispatch to unit 17, 10-40 (Progress on assignment), 10-49 (Any information for this unit?)

Unit 17 to Dispatch, 10-7 (Out of service), code 4 on a 240 (Assault), code 19 (Disorderly conduct).

Dispatch to Unit 17, 10-4 (okay)

Officer 1 said, "Mr. Mauer, I am not sure what is going on here... I mean our dispatch received an emergency 240, sorry, an assault, at this location, can you provide me with something that maybe I do not see... have the juveniles... I don't understand sir..."

Dad began to reply but stopped when I caught his attention. I just realized, the realization was monumental, "Dad, uhm, I mean... well... you and mom didn't quit... you know... even when... I mean... well you know..."

Something inside of me snapped... I said, "Can I leave for a few minutes... I'm just going to the bathroom..." I then pointed to the closed door just across the hall.

Dad looked at the officer... dad was confused... then the look on his face changed to realization, "Go ahead. Officer, can we go to our living room so that I can be with my wife... perhaps I could shed some light..."

The officer looked at me then reached for the door handle to the bathroom. He looked inside then immediately closed the door. He said to dad, "I don't have a problem with this boys' request but I would like to have the door remain open... at least until we figure this out..." The officer nodded. I entered the bathroom.

Derrick was busy attending to Timmy. He looked up as he took our newest maybe brother's pants off... they were beyond hope so armed with that knowledge I went to the kitchen, fetched a trash bag and returned to the bathroom. Derrick placed Timmy's clothes in the bag then cinched it up tightly.

Timmy appeared to be so tiny. He was shaking. Derrick said, without even turning to me, "Are we going to quit? Timmy has told me that he had to resort to violence in the past... yeah, I know violence is crazy to bring peace, to diffuse a situation."

"So what happens from here?" I asked to anyone in the bathroom, and since Timmy and Derrick and I were the only ones in the bathroom... the answer had to come within.

Derrick said, "Go get the cleaning stuff... a bucket and hot soapy water too."

He didn't have to say why... the bathroom was a wreck but not in the way that you might think... Timmy had, as you know, lost all control of his bodily functions. Silently, I did as Derrick requested. When I walked back through the living room, mom, dad, three officers were talking. Dad had his arms around mom. They were sitting on the sofa while the three other officers were talking and listening and asking questions. I walked past them. They all gave me questioning looks. Mom looked at dad then got up and came to me. I shrugged my shoulders. We went to the bathroom but before entering I said, "You guys didn't quit on me or Joey... where's Joey? He didn't answer my text message to him..."

"He was playing basketball with some new friends... he was going to have a Coke then come home... he should be here just any time..."

I turned and walked into the bathroom... mom looked in... Her whole demeanor changed from hurt and confusion to sadness then determination. She ran her hands up and down my back then patted my shoulder, then turned and walked back into the living room.

Derrick removed his clothes, looked to me absentmindedly then turned to Timmy, picked him up off the toilet then carried him into the shower. I closed the door to the bathroom, despite the officers' request that it remain open. I too undressed to my skin then got busy cleaning the major parts that urgently needed washing. Derrick was murmuring... though I couldn't understand what he was saying above the noise emanating from the water, I could tell that his tone and inflection were comforting, soft, yet assured.

I sprayed down the floor and began wiping up the excess and gunk with paper towels. Once the floor was finished I decided that the toilet could wait. I entered the shower where Derrick was busily washing Timmy's hair and face and neck. I retrieved a bar of soap and a wash cloth and began washing the rest of his body, paying particular attention to his back, legs and the between areas.

*-* Joey's POV *-*

Hands, lots of hands, were touching me... maybe there weren't too many after all. A voice said into my ear, "Hang on Joey... I'm going to get help."

*-* Mom's POV *-*

Dave was being evasive to the officers. They knew it. I knew it. And Dave was damn well orchestrating the whole thing. The officers were becoming insistent because they had heard the actual 911 call, the call when I frantically told the dispatcher that their presence was required, and that it was required right then and there, to hurry, that there was violence in our home, that it had to stop, that they would be required to end it.

I was all too certain that they would take Timmy off our hands, that we would no longer permit violence, that we had 3 other boys to keep safe, relatively happy, serene, that those relationships were first and foremost... yet when Nathan had said that we, Dave and I, hadn't given up on them... something snapped inside me... my motherly instincts were coming out in full force and effect... it was do or die time... either we were going to be a family who stood up and with everyone else... or we weren't. The concept was very simple actually.

As I was thinking of the scenario... determining what was going to happen next, the police officers' radios crackled, a dispatcher said, 'Units 17, 19 and 27, medic squad, 10-70, 10-70, 10-70 (Crime in progress), code 4 (assault), 217 your location. Copy!

"Unit 17 copy."

"Unit 19 copy."

"Unit 17 to dispatch. Everything is under control here at this location. The scene is secured."

"Dispatch to Unit 17, Unit 19, Unit 27... It has been reported by a civilian that the 217 is near some bushes in the from of the location. Unit 27, copy?"

"Unit 17, Dispatch, Copy."

"Unit 19 to Unit 17... get your ass out here. Get paramedics here NOW! Juvenile down! Juvenile down! Juvenile down!"

"Dispatch to Unit 27, respond 27."

The four officers tore out the front door and disappeared into the red blinking and flashing lights.

*-* Joey's POV *-*

Lots of hands were touching me... radios, radios that I recalled sounding like police or fire trucks or whatever the fuck were screaming and barking orders, directions, calls for help, or whatever. It made no sense to me.

Darkness.

*-* Jeff's POV *-*

Joey, this guy that I'd just met, tore out of the house at a dead gallop. His eyes were blazing. I called after him... but he wouldn't respond. He kept running... then he went faster.

Cops, lots of cops, lots of fire engines, and lots of commotion... they turned onto the street that Joey had said he lived on.

"Do I get involved, or not? What did Joey and I have that would make me think of him and what was happening? I mean we were getting ready to fuck our brains out... he wanted me, he needed me, and he damn sure was letting me know in no uncertain tones and words..."

I went into the house, put on my tennis shoes and then headed down the street toward the corner. Upon arriving I looked up the street... all the emergency vehicles had converged on a house, 5 doors up from the corner, on the west side of the street. Cops were spreading out all over the place... some went to the back, some went to the sides, others fanned out to establish a parameter. I counted 8 cops. I no longer saw Joey... did he go into the house? What the fuck... where was he... then I heard screams... his screams... then they stopped – just like that.

Stealthily, under the cover of darkness, next to the bushes that lined each person's house I stole slowly by slowly up the inclines... until I reached their neighbors' house at which time I saw an officer slouched down to the ground. His arms and hands were wailing toward the ground. From the flashing lights I saw someone lying on the ground. He was lying still. The cop was still wailing on the boy, or person lying prostrate, with his hands over his head... until they dropped to his side, and he became unmoving. He was just taking it. He had no choice. His choices had been removed.

Unable to contain myself I leaped up from my safe place, and then at a running gallop I body slammed into the form that was beating the fuck out of … Joey. Holy Mary Mother of God. When the officer stopped rolling, or during his role he pulled his weapon from his holster, and aimed it in my direction... seeing that Joey was safe, at least for the moment, I took cover and slinked into the bushes next door. I pulled out my cell phone, called 911, and then very softly, so that I would not be heard, "Cops are everywhere... one of the cops beat the holy fuck out of a kid on the front lawn... you've got to help him!"

Slowly, the cop got to his feet then began kicking the fuck out of Joey. I called 911 again... she said that many cops were at the location and that there were no reports of assaults, and then hung up.

I sprang from my hiding place, ran into their front yard, called those cops, "Fucking pigs!", "Cocksuckers, come get me!", "Hey you – FUCK YOU! I'M GONNA KILL YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!"

That got their attention!

Several of the cops began running in my direction. I beat feet. I entered the neighbor's enclosed carport. The lights were on so I began frantically knocking on their door just as softly as I could yet effectively. Grandpa opened the door. I raced past him and closed the door.

Grandpa is a gruff old man but I didn't care. Terrorized, frightened, and frantic I jumped into his arms and held onto him like my life depended on that which he had previously been unable or unwilling to give. He said, "What the fuck are you doing? Get the fuck off me!"

*-* Joeys POV *-*

An officer said clearly and plainly into my ear, "Help is on the way... just hang on." Then, away from my ear, he screamed for the paramedics. He then hollered, "The woman inside the house, she's a doctor, get her... we need medical NOW!"

"Hang on son. Who are you, and why are you here?" The officer said very softly but loud enough so that I could hear his kind words.

"Mom. My house."

Blackness. Total and utter blackness.

*-* Nathan's POV *-*

Derrick and I got Timmy's body washed and rinsed. Timmy's body was still quivering, intermingled with the shakes as if he was cold yet his skin was devoid of goose bumps. He wasn't that kind of cold. I then realized he was scared shitless, that he was reliving some event in his past, that he was living in the moment with uncertainty, and the thoughts that surely we were going to be beat the holy fuck out of him, yet at the same time he was confused because we were washing him tenderly and caringly... like he was our brother or something... Joey had washed me too... the last remaining shards of anger left my mind and heart. I said to Timmy, "We're not going to hurt you, and we aren't going to quit. Don't you quit. We'll, somehow work this out... something good comes out of every bad."

Just the dad entered the bathroom, opened the shower curtain... his eyes were wild... he too was scared shitless. He took Timmy, removed him, grabbed a towel and began drying him off. He was saying something to the boy but with the noise from the water jets I couldn't hear his words.

Just then a different police officer entered the bathroom with his weapon not holstered. He had it pointed to the ceiling. He then walked to the shower, where me and Derrick were rinsing the crap off our hips and legs... the officer grabbed my arm. Because I was wet and somewhat soapy I was able to wrench from his grasp.

Dad meanwhile got this look in his eyes... it scared me. He turned toward the officer and said, "Put the fucking gun away, and get the fuck out of here... my boys aren't dressed." Then the officer made a nearly fatal mistake... he grabbed hold of Timmy and began to half drag him from the bathroom.

I saw red.

I jumped out of the shower confines, pulling Derrick with me. I looked at the officer, my rage and anger renewed, "My dad said to get the fuck out of here. Ain't anybody being hurt. There are 3 boys in here. We're all naked. Do it now or you'll have hell to pay!"

The officer, angered, said without any trace of confusion in his voice, "You… don't move. Get your hands off of me." The cop exclaimed loudly. "Son, stop it right now. You are one inch from being arrested for assault on a law enforcement officer." He then grabbed my shoulder like a fucking vice grip

Derrick then grabbed hold of my other arm and began pulling... because we were still wet I was able to slide out of the officers' grip.

Dad stood up fully, got into the cops' face and said, "Stand down officer. Do it now or so help me God... bad things will happen to you if you stay in this small bathroom with 3 naked young boys present in varying stages of bathing... need I tell you more?"

Mom entered the bathroom... it was getting very full in there. She said, "You'll get your hands off my boys, right now. They're taking a shower. They aren't going anywhere. Give them some privacy!"

The officer, clearly overwhelmed, easily grabbed up Timmy. He put the boy into a vice grip hold that I knew all too well, and then he pinned Derrick up against the wall thus making him immobile.

Timmy was wet too. I had to smile when my newest brother, and yes that was what he was right then and there, elbowed the cop hard in his crotch causing the officer to release him.

Dad stepped up and got between the officer and his family, all the while urging mom to stand behind him.

Mom said angrily, "Get out of the bathroom, NOW! Give them their privacy. There are no weapons in this house. Now get out."

"Ma'am, I have every reason to believe that there has been a domestic assault. I am obligated to secure the scene, and that obligation will be met, do you understand me?"

"I understand. I am telling you that the scene is secure. Now let the boys finish their shower then we'll get to the bottom of this issue."

The officer looked at mom, then dad, then Timmy, then Derrick, and finally me... he then settled on mom. The look in his eyes told volumes... he looked at her like she'd lost her last marbles – yet he walked to the wall next to the toilet where he observed.

I looked at him, "So you like little boys, or what? What part of 'get out of this bathroom' don't you understand?"

The officer remained steadfast. I looked to dad, "He likes little boys." I turned away from mom and dad, grabbed hold of my dick and began jacking it slightly. Dad grabbed my hand away... I wasn't erect, I wasn't even thinking of doing THAT... I was just driving my point home since the cop was a dumb fuck.

Then Derrick cracked me up totally and completely... he respectfully said to the officer, "Sir, you're blocking the cabinet… please hand us towels, will ya?"

Sheepishly Timmy said, "Yeah, me too, please."

Mom rolled her eyes into her head. Dad really, really hard tried to not laugh... he did pretty well yet a snicker escaped.

The cop did not find that funny... not one little bit. Since Timmy was closest to him... he grabbed the boy up, flung him against the wall, and then dared any one of us to come anywhere near... and he waved his gun menacingly.

Derrick, despite what he was doing to Timmy, reached into the cabinet, retrieved towels, tossed me one and then despite the officer's protests began drying Timmy. Finally, the officer had had enough. He pointed his weapon at Derrick and ordered him to stand back, that Timmy was under arrest for domestic battery. He pointed to my face, neck, chest and legs... I looked down and saw bruises on those areas of my body.

In a fit of rage, which had resurrected in full force, I said, "If you arrest him then you need to arrest me too... do you see those bruises on my brother – I fucking put them there!"

Dad shoved me behind him. I tripped and fell against mom and landed on the floor. The cop stuck his foot into the area between my crotch and leg. It hurt like a motherfucker... I was neutralized.

The officer said to Timmy, "You are under arrest for domestic assault." And then he recited the Miranda rights, verbally, without use of the card. He then pulled out his handcuffs... but soon found that they were gigantically large for Timmy's thin wrists. During the process, Timmy, because he was still wet wriggled free, dropped his towel... everything stopped then. He grabbed hold of the officer's hand that was resisting the entire time, trying to get control of Timmy once again... but Timmy's cock was at full mast. He wasn't as subtle as I had been... he pushed the officer's hand onto his dick, and then began jacking off.

He had an idea... I looked toward Derrick. Derrick 'got it'. Once again we reached down to our tools, and in front of everyone, began jacking with earnest. The cop watched us. I could swear that his breathing became ragged and jagged once my maleness began to respond to the attention I was giving it. Then he looked to Derrick, then he looked to Timmy.

I said to dad, "That proves it... he likes us young boys." Then I began running my fingers through my pubes to make sure that he got a good look at them. Normally, I would be embarrassed as all hell having dad and mom watching me stroke the mighty warrior... yet he wasn't even paying any attention to me: he had his eyes riveted on the fucking perverted cop. Dad calmly said to the cop, "It's your word against 4 other people."

The officer relaxed, somewhat. Dad said, "Put the gun away. If you're going to arrest him then you need to arrest all of us, right here, right now."

Dad then mom, once the situation was neutralized, took hold of Timmy's arms, took two steps back, grabbed me then Derrick by our shoulders and took us to the bathroom door. Mom and dad, both, then put their arms around us and held us firmly.

I reached down and removed Timmy's hand from his prong... his point had been made. He no longer had any purpose to embarrass himself. I let go of mine and Derrick released his. Our points had been made – in spades.

Mom said, "Officer, we do not quit on our children. You did not see what happened in our home. Dave and I are not filing charges against our children. This is not a states' charge because we've admitted to nothing. I assure you that we'll be getting counseling for our boys so that they grow to be proud and productive adults. I assure you that this will not happen again. There are many other ways to deal with what we've been through today. Now – get the fuck out of my house!"

Dad's, Derrick's, Timmy's and my heads swiveled to mom, dumbstruck that she'd every use THAT word.

That shock was short-lived though... one of the two original cops stuck his head in the door.. he said something about an assault in progress on our property but wasn't specific. The pervert officer looked at dad then mom. I wouldn't swear to it but the color appeared to drain from his face. I looked at his hands... my blood ran cold, ice cold. I shivered violently then not paying one attention to the fact that I was stark raving naked and erect, I tore through the house to the front door, pushed an officer away, and then ran outside, looking all around. To my right I saw a bunch of cops, rescue personnel and the fire department all huddled together, paying close to a body lying on the ground... I saw only a bare foot sticking out. Terror constricted my blood vessels... without delay I ran to where they were huddled, looked down. I screamed, "JOEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and then tore back into the house and screamed, "MOM, JOEY'S HURT BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Previous
Chapter
Next
Chapter
Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead