Just One More

“Look what you’ve done to this girl,” hissed Bryan. “You motherfuckers, treating her like an animal,” he cursed.

“She’s a junkie!” squealed Jane. “She brought it on herself!”

“Addiction is a disease,” growled Bryan, “She needs empathy and rehabilitation, not incarceration in your homemade prison.”

“Her parents didn’t care,” protested John Adams from the floor. “They gave her to us, otherwise Valerie would jeopardize our business.”

I gasped involuntarily, peering closely at the girl in Bryan’s arms. Holy shit, it was Valerie Gordon, Chrissy’s older sister. Hadn’t she been at the pool party just last semester? I shook my head, furiously trying to remember. Why hadn’t Chrissy said something if her sister was missing? This was making no sense.

“Your business is dealing drugs to kids,” said Blake sarcastically. “Valerie was the least of your problems, you took advantage of a child.”

“She’s not a child, she’s twenty years old!” cawed the old woman. “She couldn’t take care of herself, she was causing problems for her parents and they asked us to lock her up.”

“No one should be keeping humans in cages,” said Bryan. “Drug-addled or not,” he shook his head disgustedly.

By now, my head was spinning. The Gordons had permitted their elder daughter to be locked in the Adams’ basement? The Gordons, whom I’d spent so much time with, who’d been like a second set of parents when my mom couldn’t manage?

And Valerie blinked wearily, her eyes cracking open to look at me.

“Callie,” she said hoarsely. “You were next. You were so vulnerable, so needy all the time. They already had a plan for you,” she confirmed.

And with that, I vomited. The realization that I’d been a pawn, that my surrogate family had played me, took the wind out of my sails. I wasn’t wanted … anywhere it seemed.

20

Brian

The saying that no good deed goes unpunished was true in this case. The drug ring had been busted, its nefarious tentacles chopped off at the root due to our efforts.

“Good work boys,” said the Sarge in the privacy of his office.

“Sure no prob,” said Blake nonchalantly, slumping in his chair. “What’s next?”

The Sarge frowned.

“That’s the problem,” he said. “It seems that Internal Affairs wants to do an investigation of your … ahem, more questionable tactics.”

I sat up straighter. “And what would that be?” It could be several things, but what worried me most was our liaison with Callie. She’d technically been underage when we began fucking, and IAB was full of assholes that would hold your feet to the fire for shit like that.

But the Sarge merely cleared his throat again, looking uncomfortable.

“The Adams say that you were … ahem … having sex with each other,” he mumbled. “As in brother on brother, mano a mano. Is that true?” he asked, squirming in his chair, unable to meet our eyes.

I was angry, but my face betrayed no emotion.

“Why would you ask that Sarge? What makes you ask whether Blake and I fuck each other?”

“Well,” he mumbled. “There was the Russian bathhouse incident a couple years back, and now the Adams are saying that you pounded each other in the basement of their house. Not that I’m saying you did,” he clarified quickly.

My face assumed a hurt look.

“Sarge, you’d believe drug dealers over guys on your own squad?” I said plaintively. “That hurts, that really hurts.”

“I know,” rushed Sergeant Collins. “It’s just that I have to ask because it was in the Adams’ witness statement.”

“Well you can tell IAB to stuff it up their asses,” snarled Blake. “That’s fucking disgusting. If they really think that about us, then we’ll hand in our badges, no prob.”

“Son,” said the Sergeant. “Just tell me it didn’t happen and I’ll get these fuckers off your tail. I find it as offensive as you.”

“Of course it didn’t happen,” I snorted. “It was all playacting to get Jane Adams to unlock the door. We weren’t actually banging each other, please.”

The Sergeant looked relieved. Bisexuality, much less between non-biological brothers, makes people uncomfortable, questioning their ethics and beliefs at the deepest level. But we’d reassured the Sarge with our macho, no-bull behavior, the same way we’d pulled the wool over so many peoples’ eyes in the past.

“And you didn’t touch the girl either, right?” he asked, more as an afterthought.

“You mean the junkie Valerie?” I clarified.

But the Sarge shook his head slowly.

“No, IAB wanted to verify that you didn’t touch Callie Walsh, the girl who accompanied you to the Adams’ house.”

This was trickier. Blake and I had no trouble lying about the twin loving but lying about Callie somehow felt wrong. It was vile to pull an innocent eighteen year-old into this cesspool, especially a girl we loved.

Because we realized that we wanted Callie to be a part of our lives permanently. She was sweet, innocent, and fresh, yet with a womanly air that entranced us completely. Callie had accepted our twin bisexuality, and was also accepting of the career path we had chosen. Undercover police work was necessarily dangerous and there would be long periods where we would be separated. But her graciousness and loving attitude was all we needed.