Read Violence Begets... for Free Online Page B

the movies and I thought it couldn't be that hard.
I put the pipe up to my lips and held the flame to the weed. As the dry, harsh smoke
assaulted my lungs they immediately began to burn, and I started to cough. Remembering
what I’d seen in movies, I strangled the coughs in my throat and did my best to
hang on to any smoke that was left. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I met Kevin’s
stare and, with controlled effort, blew the smoke in his direction. It was a challenge. Go ahead , I mentally dared him. Try to convince yourself I’m not for real. He narrowed his eyes questioningly and then smiled at me.
    “Well done. Just like a pro.” He took
the pipe from me and took a hit off the still-lit weed.
    Kevin
    The hell with him, was the only thing
I could think. So he knew how to smoke weed. Big deal. I’d been wrong. It hadn’t
happened before, but everyone had a first. The piece of shit was a punk. He knew
that. I knew that. The guys knew that. Then what the fuck was the big deal? I didn’t
have time to second-guess myself. I needed to fucking control something. Saint Ricky
was proving to be more of a challenge than I was comfortable with, and I was not
okay with my lack of confidence about the situation.
    I glared at him from behind the pipe
as I took a hit, letting the smoke ease the tension I was feeling. After another
round, I hid the pipe back in my closet and watched as Rick slowly faded with the
weed. Even if he had smoked before, he hadn’t done it a lot. The effects certainly
hit him harder than the others. I almost felt bad when I kicked them out. It sucked
not being able to ride out a high like the one Rick was feeling. But I knew my father
was due home soon and having friends over without permission would not go well.
After a quick change of clothes and a spray or two of air freshener, I closed and
locked the windows before heading upstairs.
    When my father sauntered in shortly
after seven in his finely tailored suit, I was at the kitchen table doing homework.
    “Keeping those grades up Kevin?” he
greeted me shortly.
    “Yes, sir. All A’s as expected.” He
rode me hard and I learned early on that meeting his expectations was one way of
keeping him off my back.
    “Good. Don’t let them slip. Have to
get into the Ivy Leagues for a decent education.” I nodded at the familiar conversation
and continued working. Eventually he went to his room, closing the door behind him.
I heard him flip on the TV and started packing up my books, knowing he wasn’t likely
to come back out.
    I knew the evening would proceed like
fucking clockwork. He’dstay in his room, turning off the TV and lights at 10:45
after the news ended. I’d wait until 11:30, then quietly sneak out the window and
head to the club. On this particular night, I was still pissed about the fact that
I had been wrong about Rick, and the fact that he had smoked out before. After calling
a cab from my personal cell phone, the one my father didn’t know I had, I planned
to stop off at Dirk's to earn the money I needed to have a good time at the club.
By the time I made it to Normandy I was turned on and itching for release.
    Right away I noticed Quinn on the dance
floor with some of his friends. I’d been around the scene long enough to know he
was a bottom and liked it a little rough. He was perfect for what I had in mind.
After several more shots of Wild Turkey at the bar, I approached him.
    “Can I buy you a drink?” I asked, turning
on the charm I knew he’d find irresistible. He took a step away, obviously checking
me out. I was proud of the tight black shirt that showed off my well-defined chest.
I knew what I had to offer, and it was something he wouldn’t be able to walk away
from.
    “Sure,” he smiled, following me off
the dance floor.
    “What’s your poison?”
    “Blue Hawaiian.”
    I ordered his drink and another shot
of whiskey for myself. "My name's—"
    “Kevin,"
he interrupted me, "I’m well aware. And I’m…?”
    My