Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of sexual content.
Background
Twisted Families, Macabre murders, misogynistic policemen, secrets and one tough cop. What else do you need?
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Mark had to find a way to prove his parents' depravity and with that how it can ruin their reputation in the community. With this he would have enough to get his freedom from them. It was time to find out what this once-a-week hairdresser appointment was. He figured he would get inside the Jag once again and follow his mother.
Slipping inside the trunk he waited. He had told his parents that he was off to the library to work on a school paper. Luckily, they trusted him enough to not question his whereabouts.
Another adventure â€" albeit a not pleasant one. He mused to himself that perhaps he would make a great detective one day. Soon enough the car started and his mother stepped inside.
The driver obviously new the route and silently drove. After around 20 minutes the car stopped, the door opened, and the back seat was empty. Mark didn't have enough time to get out of the trunk before the car started again. Fortunately, the driver only went a few hundred feet before he stopped the car a second time and then got out. Presumably to get food or a snack until Cindra was ready to go back home.
At this time, he was able to open the trunk and exit. He found himself in a rougher part of the city at the parking lot of an apartment building. He walked around to the front of the building and had a look. Nothing seemed unusual or different except that he didn't understand why she was here. She was a stickler for only mixing with the 'right' people. He walked completely around the building and found nothing unusual. A simple rectangular red brick building with parking in front for visitors and in the rear for residents. He returned to the front of the building, scanned the neighborhood then walked across the street. Here he found a strip mall with smaller stores. Pet food, hardware, corner store, and a hair salon. A quick look inside of the hair salon to see she was not at any of the stations inside the salon despite her diary saying she had an appointment.
It was about an hour and he could see the driver was headed back towards the car. Suddenly, the driver turned around and went into the corner convenience store giving Mark an opportunity to rush back to the car. When he got back, he slipped around the corner of the building to watch who was coming out of the front entrance. It was then that he finally got an eye full of what his mother was actually doing every Thursday afternoon.
His mother exited the lobby looking disheveled, with her was a handsome but very young black man. He stood in front of her wearing only tight denim jeans and a huge smile. She turned to him and went into his arms, kissing him deeply. The young man had his arms around her with his hands on her ass. He was grinding himself into her. To this she moaned.
"Now Bo, keep doing that and we will have to go back upstairs." She said this as she slipped her hand to the front of his pants and rubbed him up and down.
"Ah, Mrs. Conners, you know just what to say to a guy don't you?" he pushed his generous mouth against her one more time.
"I have to go, see you next Thursday." She said as she slipped a generous amount of cash into his pants pocket. She turned and walked away while straightening herself out. By the time she turned the corner to reach the car in the back parking lot, she was the prim and proper woman she always appeared to be to the outside world.
Mark had kept himself hidden while watching her. Somehow this didn't shock him as much as he expected. He now knew that his world, the one where he was sequestered into his room, the space inside there and inside his head was destroyed. Completely and totally. He realized that the events of the last few weeks had matured him a multiple of years. It was time he took the world for what it was and take the control. It was now going to be his world and not the stupid illusion his parents tried to make it out to be.
For his mother, it was the late 70's and interracial relationships were still not the norm although society was trying to be more inclusive. However, NOT 'high' society.
If anyone knew all the secrets his parents kept hidden. Especially considering the events of the previous investigation that Mark had conducted. And now today's secret. This would destroy his mother's reputation and by way of default his fathers too. His father! He wondered if he knew what the hairdresser's appointment really was?
With this circumstantial weapon Mark confidently walked towards the Jag â€" only a few seconds behind his mother. She had no clue he was there. After only a moment Brad, the driver saw Mark and a surprised look came across his face.
"What's wrong, Brad?" Cindra asked.
"He is surprised to see me here, mother." Mark said from behind her back.
Cindra spun around so quickly she twisted her ankle and had to grab the open door of the car to prevent herself from falling over. Soon enough she righted herself. Her instant look of surprise was quickly replaced with a haughty 'higher than thou' look.
"Well, son, what takes you out to this neighbourhood?" She said with feigned confidence.
"Let's quit all the BS mother, perhaps father would like to know exactly where your hairdresser's office is....or is not?" Mark was shaking inside but he learned from the best how to keep it all off his face.
"Whatever do you mean, Son?" Her face broke for just a flash of a second. But Mark saw it and, in that saw, he had an opportunity.
"I have never seen a negro male hairdresser before, let alone one who works from inside an apartment building in this area." He looked her straight in the eyes. Unwavering and strong, for the first time feeling he had the advantage over his controlling mother.
"What exactly what did you think you saw?" She said back to him.
"I saw enough. Enough to share. Enough to talk about at one of your fancy little parties or enough to share with father in a quiet little meeting in his office. Enough to ruin poor Bo's life, the only one who doesn't deserve this. Or does he mother? only you can answer that one." He was trying to keep his anger inside to hold back all of his feelings.
"Mark, come on. A parent's private life is just that, Private. Just get in the car." To this she turned and sat herself down. Brad closed the door forcing Mark to walk to the other side and seat himself.
Brad started the car and they drove home in silence. Silence is golden Cindra thought. She definitely did not want this conversation in front of the help. That wouldn't do. When it seemed as if Mark was going to speak, she put her hand up towards him and mouthed 'not in front of the help.'
For this point, Mark complied.
Both passengers took the time in silence to mentally prepare for the desperate conversation coming at the house.
Cindra knew she was going to have to talk to her husband. Mark wasn't aware that Alistair knew about her 'hairdressing appointments', he had some of his own. The pair agreed to keep their marriage open, so long as they were extremely discreet. It was important to keep their reputations intact. The only fact that Alistair was unaware of, was that her person was a negro. That fact must at all costs be kept from him. She now knew she had to talk to Mark first, then Alistair.
Mark was brewing a plan of his own. He had no real intention of destroying his family or its position in society, however, this was an opportunity to get his own freedom. Freedom from the constant control on his time, his schedule and his personal efforts. He was preparing to take down Cindra and in her wake Alistair too.
Soon enough the car arrived at the garage at their expensive large private estate.
"Brad, go inside. I wish to speak to my son. Tell my husband I will join him in his office in a few minutes."
Brad nodded and left the two alone.
"Whatever you think you saw, son is not to be repeated to your father. Do I make myself clear?" She stared deep into his eyes, searching for his usual compliance and found it lacking.
"At this point mother, I think your time for making demands on me is over." He gave her that strong deep look that she used to use to crumble him as a boy.
"Son, we must find a way to both get what we need." She was starting to realize that she wasn't going to win this one.
"I'll tell you what mother, I won't tell dad. Because if he found out your boy toy is a negro, we both know that will break him and this family apart. But I will have certain things that I am going to need in return."
"Exactly what are those certain things?" She was anxious and it showed.
Mark, feeling very strong now that he knew he had the upper hand, exited the vehicle without looking at her. In the past he normally needed permission, not today. He was headed to his father. He didn't want to give her the opportunity to influence him, not that she could.
Mark, walking strong, pushed his father's office door in, without knocking. His mother, hot on his heels entered right behind him.
"Son? What is the meaning of this? Storming into my office? Who do you think you are?" He had risen from his desk absolute anger on his face.
Cindra looked at her husband while crossing the floor to reach his desk. "Husband, let our son speak." She was hoping by showing a little support to her son that it may buy her points.
Mark stood at his father's desk. The look on his face would brook no argument. He saw his father slowly sit, his mother standing at her husband's side. Both looking at Mark, pensively waiting for his words.
Mark had taken those precious minutes during the drive to formulate his plan. In the corner of his mind a crack had formed. A space where he could create a confident Mark, a man. In this space he had complete control, maturity and confidence. This part of him accessed all of the memories of the past few weeks, the events in the morgue, Plato's Retreat and the revelations of his parent's open marriage. Accessed all of that information but without emotion. Here he could formulate and execute without caring and without consideration. That part of him was ready to go.
"This is how its going to work. I will keep all of your dirty secrets. All of them. You keep your position in society and continue doing the depraved things that you do. In return I will never have to see your faces again. You will provide me with a generous allowance. More than enough for me to get a place of my own. You will pay for my education until its done. Your expectations of me stop here, today." The words, simple and complete fell out of his mouth with a staccato temple.
His father, shocked with his mouth agape, could only stare at his son. It was Cindra's time to take over.
"If you think what you saw today was enough for us to even entertain your demands, think again. I have no issue sharing this with your father." Cindra's confidence was crumbling fast but she was desperate to keep her son in her life, despite the risks.
That crack in his mind opened to a cavern. All of the years of neglect and control, the years he desperately wanted to feel love. The disgusting events of the Morgue. The bile rising in his throat at the hint of the memory. All of the things he witnessed in recent days. The rapes, the visions of his perfect parents destroyed. It was all crumpled to one emotion, one raw lightning bolt that ravaged that cavern and exploded in his mind.
He took two long determined strides to his father desk. His fist came crashing down on the surface, his face almost purple in rage. He looked like a completely different person. His normally perfectly combed hair slipped down in one gentle brown curl toward his arched eyebrow.
"I know! I know EVERYTHING! I followed you! It was me at the back of Plato's Retreat, ME! I know it was you, you disgusting pig of a mother! You! In the Morgue! I hope Father that your extra escapades aren't a depraved as MOTHERS. You 2 better PRAY I never come back here. I am DONE!"
He punctuated each line with a smash to the desk top, splitting his knuckles. He didn't feel any of it.
"You have exactly one day to get me what I demand. ONE DAY!" he turned and left them alone.
He needed to get control on himself. He walked down the hall and headed for the front door.
Outside he walked to the gardens. Here he got 'him' under control. Here Mark returned to himself. In the many hours he walked, he tucked all his pain inside that cavern. He learned to secure his mind, to separate the Mark of yesterday to the new young Mark, the mature one who will start a new life, today. He kept the other one close at hand. You never know when you will need that rage.
Cindra had to explain to Alistair about Marks comments of the Morgue. She simply told him that she was exploring a cadaver with CC when Mark walked in on her. Alistair believed her.
The Conners' bought Mark a small house close to the University, hired him a tutor so he could finish high school, a driver until he was old enough to drive the Audi that they bought him. They kept tabs on his progress over the years, but true to Marks word, he never returned to that house.
Author Notes
this story captures even me, the writer. I get excited about what plot twists I want to include each chapter. As it pours out of me, I also feel somewhat released.
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