The Stud

I had to get control. I had to find a way to calm down before I had a stroke. I had to get away, even if it was just for a little while. The problem was I didn't even trust myself behind the wheel of a car. The only place I could think of was Plato's Place, a local bar a few blocks down the street. Bruce and I went there sometimes to grab a beer and play some pool.

As I took one more sip of Beam before standing up, it occurred to me that I hadn't seen Britney. I wondered if she was still home or if she'd taken off too. I went inside and thought I'd check our bedroom first, but as I walked through the kitchen I heard her crying. I looked into the garage. She was sitting on the concrete with her back leaning against the wheel of her car. She was still naked from the waist down with her shorts wrapped around her ankle. It looked like she simply slid down from the fender to the floor and that's where she stayed. She had her face buried in her hands as she sat there sobbing. I don't even think she was aware of me standing there.

Under different circumstances I would have run to her aid, put my arm around her and comforted her. That was then, this is now. I was still angry and had no intention of coming to her rescue.

I went to the bathroom to wash the blood from my hands then walked through the house and out the front door slamming it behind me. I wanted her to know I was leaving.

There was almost no one in the bar when I walked in. Andy, the owner was bartending. He probably couldn't get anyone to work on the holiday. I sat on a barstool and ordered a beer.

"Shit man, what'd you do, stick your hand into a shredder?"

"Yeah, something like that," I replied.

I think he could see I wasn't in the mood for chit-chat so he moved down to the other end of the bar and pretended to be busy. I sat with a blank look on my face, quietly trying to assess the situation. I never believed Britney would cheat on me so I never thought about what I'd do if she did.

What am I going to do now, was all I could think. Those words kept going around and around in my head. I was so deep in thought that I wasn't even aware of Bruce sitting on the stool next to me until her ordered.

"Hey Andy, draw me a cold one from the tap, will you?"

"You bet," I heard Andy respond.

Bruce turned his head about half way in my direction. "Sorry, old buddy, I saw you leave the house. I know you said you wanted to be alone but I thought I'd just come and keep you company. If you don't want to talk, don't talk but I'm here if you do."

Andy brought a frosty mug of beer to Bruce then went over to sit on the stool he had behind the bar to watch TV. Bruce and I sat in silence for several minutes.

"I caught that mother-fucker with his face between Britney's legs," I finally said.

"Shit, I knew it must be something like that. I'd never seen you so angry. Hell, I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone that angry. Did he force her?"

"No he didn't force her. If he had I would have probably killed the son-of-a-bitch. He had that damn stud in his tongue. Britney loves oral, more than anyone I've ever seen. I knew her fricken panties got wet as soon as she saw it, but I never... I...I still can't believe it, Bruce. I saw it with my own eyes and I still can't fucking believe it."

"I'm sorry my friend, I'm truly sorry. She did have quite a lot to drink."

"That's no excuse, Bruce. She wasn't that drunk, she was sober enough to be enjoying herself."

"Maybe he slipped something into her drink, you know, like a date rape drug or something."

I hadn't even thought of anything like that. I sure wouldn't have put it past the scum-bag, but how would I know? And...

"Why would he bring a date rape drug to a cookout? I mean, he had his girl there. You yourself said she was a little fox. No, I don't buy it, Bruce. I wish I did but it just doesn't make sense. The first thing Britney did after seeing that stud in his tongue was ask me to get one too. I blew it off of course, but I think she was more serious than I thought. No, the booze probably played a part, but I think she just had to know what it felt like. She probably made some comment and he, being the sleazebag he is, saw his chance and pounced on it."

Bruce had nothing to say to that so we sat in silence for another few minutes before he spoke again.

"When I saw you leave I sent Cathy over to the house to check on Britney, I hope that's alright."

"Yeah, I don't care. She was on the floor in the garage, crying when I left."

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

"Not a clue," I told him. "I'm still not thinking straight yet." I had to take a deep breath. "Damn it, Bruce, I just can't believe she'd do something like this. What the hell was she thinking? She knows damn well I won't stand for anything like that; trust, loyalty, that's what makes a marriage, when it's lost the marriage is over, she knows that as well as I do."

"Taylor, look you said yourself you're not thinking clearly right now. Don't go making any decisions yet. I know this is bad but it's nothing that can't be fixed. Take some time, listen to her side of the story, maybe go for counseling, I'm sure you guys can work things out."

"Yeah? I wouldn't be so sure," I grumbled.

Again we sat nursing our beers in silence for a while until Bruce convinced me to go home. When we walked in I could see through the living room and into the kitchen. Cathy and Britney were sitting at the table with a couple of coffee cups in front of them. My fallen wife was facing our way and looked up when she heard us. She was a mess, her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her cheeks were stained from the tears, and her whole face looked swollen.

It had been four hours since I caught them together, I thought I was over my rage but seeing her again brought it right back to the surface. I still couldn't talk to her, not yet.

"I'm going upstairs and take a shower," I told Bruce. "Maybe I can wash some of this anger off."

"Okay, old buddy, I'll stay down here with the girls, but..." he hesitated. "Look man, you've got to talk to her. You two are to good together to let this break you up, don't let that happen, please."

"Bruce right now I don't know what's going to happen. I'm not promising anything."

I went up to our bedroom and closed the door. I wouldn't normally do that. I wasn't afraid of Cathy or Bruce coming up, they'd never do that knowing I was taking a shower, it was a way of still closing myself off from Britney. I didn't want her up there while I was getting undressed. Of course it was mostly symbolic. All she had to do was open the damn thing if she wanted to come in. I thought about that as I sat on the bed to take my socks off. She was my wife and I didn't want her in the room as I undressed. I think that's when I realized just how much trouble our marriage was really in.

For the first time since seeing them together, I felt something besides anger. It wasn't sadness, not yet anyway; I was sure that would come but I was still too angry for that. It was tension, apprehension, the thought that this really could be the end for Britney and me.

I stepped inside the shower and let the hot water hammer into my flesh. There's nothing like a good hot shower; I closed my eyes and for a moment, forgot about all about my troubles. I faced the torrent of water and ran my fingers through my hair. I took a deep breath and allowed myself to be consumed by the steamy mist.

By the time I was done and dressed I actually felt a little better, as good as could be expected anyway. I at least felt like I could face my wife without punching her.

All heads turned my way when I walked into the kitchen but no one made a sound. I walked over to the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee. Still facing the counter with my back to everyone, I took a sip then just stared down, into the cup.

Cathy was the first to break the silence. "Taylor the police were here earlier looking for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Joy took Skip to the emergency. The one cop said they had to sew him up, I guess he got seventeen stitches."

"Au, my heart bleeds for him," I said mockingly.

"I don't think you really have anything to worry about. I told them you and Skip got into an argument over his rude behavior and that he swung first...that you were just defending yourself. I told them if they didn't believe me there were about forty other people who saw it and would all swear to the same thing."

"Thanks, Cath, what'd they say then, do they still want to see me?"

"No, I don't think so, but they want you to call them. They gave me a card with a Lieutenant Anderson's number on it. I left it on the end table next to the lamp."

"Okay, thanks, Cathy."

I heard a chair move behind me then felt Bruce's hand on my shoulder.

"Give her a chance, Taylor. It was a moment of weakness. We're all human, we all make mistakes, and we all deserve a second change."

I listened to what he said but the words didn't have much of an affect. I'm pretty sure he could sense my mood.

As Bruce walked away it was Cathy's turn to plead for my wife. I knew she was behind me but I still hadn't turned around.

"Please, Taylor, she's sorry; she's so sorry, she didn't mean to hurt you."

"Come on, Cathy, we've done all we can here, now it's up to them," barked Bruce from the living room.

A moment later we were alone. I finally turned around, walked over and sat down at the other end of the table. I took a deep breath before raising my head and looking at my adulterous wife.

I knew it was childish but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to lash out, to hurt her. I wanted to send her a message.

"Tell me, after you were done with his tongue did you have plans to see how the ring in his dick felt as well?"

"Taylor," she sobbed, "no! I'm sorry, I..."

"Yeah, I know, you were drunk. You couldn't help yourself."

She sniffled a couple times before answering. "No, I won't make excuses. The minute I saw that stud in his tongue I could almost feel it rubbing against my pussy. Then Joy didn't help matters. We were talking about it before you came over. She was trying to describe how it felt but how do you describe a sensation like that. All she did was manage to get me so horny I couldn't even think straight."

She took a tissue from the box that Cathy left behind and wiped her eyes before continuing.

"When you and I were walking around talking to people it was all I could think of. That's why I let you do all the talking. I couldn't get it out of my mind. Then later Skip was coming out of the bathroom as I was going in. He said, 'Coming to see how it feels for yourself?' Then he flicked his tongue out at me and moved it all around. God, Taylor, I was just so fucking horny I..."

She stopped talking again to blow her nose then wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Anyway, he took my hand and opened the garage door. 'Come on,' he said, 'we can do it right in here.' Like an idiot I followed him in. I'm sorry, Taylor. I knew it was wrong but I wanted it so bad, I...I..."

She almost broke down but quickly regained what little composure she had.

"He shut the door and we walked over to my car. I stood there while he pulled my shorts down. My panties came down right with them. He had me step out of them with one leg then he put his hands around my waist and hoisted me up on the car."

"Alright, alright, no more, I don't want to hear another fucking word," I said.

"Taylor, please tell me you'll forgive me. I...I know it'll take time, Cathy suggested going to a marriage counselor. I'll do anything to make it up to you, please."

"Britney I don't even know what I'm feeling yet. I know I've never been so angry in my entire life. It was all I could do to keep myself from kicking that bastard's head off today. I...I'm hurt and disappointed...I'm, shit I just don't know what I am. Right now I have no idea if I'll ever be able to forgive you, I guess only time will tell."

I got up and walked out to the living room leaving her sitting at the table still sniffling. I was dead tired and it was barely dark outside. I flopped down in my recliner and stretched out, closing my eyes and wishing this day had never happened. Why did I ever let Bruce talk me into inviting them in the first place? I knew it was a bad idea, the little voice inside my head told me I was making a mistake but did I listen, no. Never again, I told myself, never again will I let someone talk me into something that contradicted that little voice in my head, never again.

After a little while I heard the patio door sliding open then the rattling of bottles. I guessed Britney was cleaning up the back yard, good. I hadn't even thought of it but the last thing I needed was a bunch of drunken raccoons staggering all around the back yard at night and eating the leftovers. I heard her walk back and forth a few times and opening the refrigerator now and then. I almost felt guilty for not helping...almost.

I was drifting in and out of a semi-conscious state, not really sleeping but at least trying to give my brain a little reprieve. I had no idea how long I'd been laying there when I heard Britney's voice.

"Taylor, are you awake?"

I opened my eyes and glanced out the window. It was completely dark outside.

"Are you hungry?" she asked in weakened voice.

"What time is it?"

"It's about nine-thirty. Are you hungry? We have plenty of leftovers. I could heat up some ribs or make you a sandwich if you'd like."

"No, I'm not hungry," I snapped.

"Okay," she meekly responded. "I...I'm just going to go to bed then, is that okay?"

"Fine," I curtly answered.

"Are...will you be coming up later?"

"I don't know. Go to bed."

She didn't say anymore. I listened as she climbed the stairs, it sounded like she was walking up the steps of a gallows. I could almost envision myself pulling the lever. I was surprised at how angry I still was. It didn't seem to be going away. Then I wondered who I was angrier with, Britney or that asshole, Skip.

Just then my stomach rumbled. Evidently I was hungry. I went into the kitchen and stuck some ribs in the microwave then grabbed some potato salad and a beer out of the fridge to wash it all down.

While I sat at the table eating, I asked myself the same question as before, who was I most angry at? As pissed as I was at Britney, I downright hated Skip. I didn't care how many stiches he got, it wasn't nearly enough. I wanted of piece of him. I wanted to ruin his life like he was ruining mine.

I finished eating then took another beer with me to go sit down and watch the ten o'clock news. I stretched out on the couch and don't even remember getting to the weather forecast before falling asleep.

When I woke up the next morning I was surprised I slept so soundly. I think I was just so worn out from all the stress. It was a good hour earlier than I needed to get up but that was okay. I showered downstairs then slipped into our bedroom to grab some clothes from the closet. I looked at Britney in the bed and it looked like she cried herself to sleep. I was dressed and out of the house before she woke up.

I stopped by a Denny's for breakfast on the way to work and was still walking in twenty minutes early. Linda, my secretary, had just beaten me in by a few minutes.

"Good morning, Taylor. How was your long weekend?" she said looking up with a smile.

I was sure Linda would know the whole story eventually, but right then I didn't want to talk about it.

"Fine," I replied almost choking on my lie. I started into my office then had a thought. "Linda, you're pretty good on that computer, aren't you."

She looked a little puzzled. "What do you mean; pretty good, how?"

"I mean at finding things. Every time I've asked you to look something up for me you've always been able to find the information."

"Well, yeah, I guess. It's part of my job, why?"

"What about personal information on somebody; you know, like credit card accounts, banking information, where they work, people they know, things like that?"

"Ah...well actually my brother would be the one you'd want for stuff like that but what's this all about, Taylor? I wouldn't want him getting mixed up in anything illegal."

I thought for a minute, I didn't know if what I wanted was illegal or not. "I don't really think it's illegal," I told her. "I don't want to go to jail either. Would you mind calling him when you can and just let me talk to him?"

She agreed but said she couldn't get ahold of him until the afternoon. I got myself a cup of coffee then headed into my office while telling Linda I didn't want to be disturbed for a while. I was getting a little nervous. I had to call Lieutenant Anderson and I had no idea what to expect. I wondered if they would arrest me.

I took a deep breath and looked out my window while taking a few sips of machine dispensed coffee. I figured there was no sense putting it off. I pulled out my cell and dialed the number from the card they left at my house.

"Police department, Officer Gordon speaking."

"Yes, this is Taylor Benet. Is Lieutenant Anderson there, please?"

"Hold on," he said before the phone went dead for a moment.

"Mr. Benet, thanks for calling. I wanted to talk to you about an altercation you had with Mr. Ackerman at your house."

"You mean Skip? That's the only name I know him by. Yeah, I invited him to my bar-b-que and he turned out to be a real jerk. He was rude to my other guests, made a pass at my wife, then took a swing at me when I finally asked him to leave."

"Yeah, that pretty well corroborates what one of your neighbors told me. I don't think you have anything to worry about. I told Mr. Ackerman I didn't think it would be a good idea to press charges against you. With all the witnesses you had to back up your story of self-defense, I said he'd be lucky if you didn't turn around and charge him with assault and battery. I'm pretty sure he decided to just let it go."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. You know that's not a bad idea, maybe I should press charges," I said. I was actually testing the waters. I wanted to see what he'd say.

"Mr. Benet, my advice would be to just forget it. These things between neighbors can get blown way out proportion. The next thing you know, somebody's getting hurt."

As much as I wanted to get back at that asshole, the Lieutenant sounded like he knew what he was talking about. I thanked him and hung up being relieved that at least I didn't have to worry about going to jail...at least not yet.

Later that afternoon Linda told me her brother was on the phone. I had never met him so he introduced himself as Dan. When I told him what I wanted to do he explained that there were legal ways of getting information on someone without having to hack into their computers but he wasn't sure what good the information would do me.

"There's a hundred different sources out there," he told me. "The easiest way is to just go to a data broker. I can get credit card information, bank account numbers, what loans are outstanding, how much he owes on his car; all kinds of personal and financial information. It's the same thing employers do when vetting a new job applicant these days; but, if you're talking about manipulating his bank accounts or anything like that then you're talking jail time if you're caught."

"No, that's no good. I sure as hell don't want to go to jail over this asshole," I told him. "What about criminal records or outstanding warrants, things like that?"

"Oh sure, that's no problem at all. What is it that you want to do to this guy?"

"I want to make his life a living hell," I replied with venom in my voice.

"I see. Remind me not to get on your bad side," he joked. "What do you know about him?"

"Nothing, only that he's renting a house at thirteen fifty eight Prospect Ave, his name is Skip Ackerman and he's either married to, or living with a girl named Joy."