Page 34 of Watcher

“You didn’t stop her,” Kentucky says.

“Of course not. Still on the leash, she handed me the paddle, pulled down her shorts, and bent over the bed.” I rub my face, and Kentucky laughs.

“Your first shot at pussy.” Kentucky laughs.

“Pretty fucking bushy back then, but I didn’t care. She watched me staring at her snatch and laughed. Then I paddled her ass until it was blood red. That bitch liked it.” I shake my head. “I didn’t understand at first. Who the fuck wanted to be spanked like that. When I was finished, I stepped back and stared at her wet pussy. I was in heaven.”

“You fucked her, right?”

I shake my head. “No. Not the first day. It was all about the kink. Over that summer, she taught me about dominance and submission. She taught me about trust. Trust was the most important thing between us. Late one night, I snuck out of the house, and she took me to a sex club. I’d just turned seventeen, but she lied to get me in. She shit I watched that night blew my fucking mind. I saw people acting like animals on leashes, men and women being spanked. I even saw bloodletting. And the fucking sex! Men with multiple women and women with multiple men.

“I’m not talking about gangbangs. I watched this one woman who had four men on leashes. One of the men was the obvious alpha, and the other three were convenient pets. They waited on her hand and foot. She went to the bathroom at one point, and they followed.”

“Now I know why you’re so fucked up,” Kentucky says.

“I watched everything that went on that night and the dozen other times she snuck me into the club. I felt right at home with the people in that club, Kentucky. Like I feel at home with Brothers of Chaos. Those people gave my life meaning.” My phone buzzes and I see it’s Beast checking in. I let him know everything is okay.

“I saw that Jeremy prick come out of the office with his pants all fucked up. That why Jessica left pissed off?”

“Yeah, I made the little bastard stay and watch me fuck her.”

Kentucky shakes his head. It’s hard for an outsider to understand. He'd avoided the topic even as long as we’d known each other. People don’t want to talk about things they don’t understand.

“Kentucky, that girl taught me more about life than anyone has ever taught me.”

“What? That’s it’s okay to catch a disease?”

“It’s not like that, man. We were always careful. Used protection when it called for.” I hop over the rail and stand on the rink, looking up at the banners. “That girl taught me it was okay to be different. To be who and what I am. She taught me that hiding behind something caused more damage than owning who and what you are. There’s always going to be those who judge because they think their shit don’t stink.”

“Diablo was talking about some weird shit,” Kentucky admits. “I told her I wasn’t interested.” He nods at me. “But I get you, brother. You gotta do what makes you happy because, ultimately, only you can make you happy.” He points at my arm. “That’s the girl.”

“It is.”

“Where is she now?”

“I shit you not. She’s a sex therapist. I looked her up a couple of weeks ago.”

“Damn.” Kentucky looks as if he’d had enough. “You gonna let Jessica go?”

“I think she’s headed toward something that’s going to get her in deep shit, Kentucky. Her and Diablo both.”

“You can’t save those who don’t want to be saved, Watcher.”

“True, but I think we need to keep them out of prison.” I pull the list of men from my pocket. “I got the names and the addresses.”

“Damn. She’ll be looking for that list.”

“I copied hers while she was in the bathroom.”

“Fuck,” Kentucky says. “Let's go save the world.” He stops me before we leave. “I’ll never be into the shit you’re into, brother, but you do you. Be who you are. I got your back.”

We climb on our bikes and head across Memphis, the sun almost tucked into bed. Night riding is the best, and as I lag behind Kentucky, I appreciate what he said. I just hope Jessica will appreciate the explanation I have. Ultimately, it’s all for her. Everything will be all for her. She’ll eventually understand, just like my sixteen-year-old self understood.

Harrison Rich’s house doesn’t seem to be anything special, at least based on the houses in his neighborhood, though Kentucky and I park two streets away. Jessica and Emily sit in a Camry across from Harrison’s house. Diablo is on her bike five houses up the street. Stalking is not a skill any of them have.

“He’ll see them as soon as he walks out,” Kentucky says.

“Maybe that’s what they want.”

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