The Platinum Reunion (The Platinum Series Book 3) Read online

  “Oh, you want a piece of this? You want a piece of this, bro?” Kirby yelled as he ducked back to keep Jake from connecting.

  “I’m gonna fuck you up,” Jake said. In that moment Jake felt so angry and threatened that he wasn’t thinking or seeing things clearly. He didn’t care that Kirby was bigger, stronger, and more muscular than him. Jake just wanted to land a punch right on the chin or nose. He just wanted to hurt Kirby.

  Kirby, feeling not at all afraid or threatened, started to laugh at Jake, taunting him. “Look at you, man. You swing like a girl. What a bitch,” he said as he ducked and dodged.

  They were like two fighters in a boxing ring—Jake on offense, stepping forward, swinging and throwing jabs and Kirby on defense, dancing around, moving backward and dodging. Kirby escalated his verbal taunts and insults. “You swing like a girl, man. Seriously…that’s the best you’ve got? What a faggot.”

  The utterance of that word faggot lit a fuse in Jake. It was the word every guy dreaded being called, the word that insulted a guy’s sense of identity and pride as a man and challenged his masculinity. The word sent a message to Jake that there was a dent in his armor as a man that made him appear not masculine enough. Despite having had two sexual encounters with Reggie and years of liaisons with Kirby, Jake still viewed himself as straight. And for a guy who had worked so hard to mask and conceal his same-sex attraction for so long—continuing to date and hook up with women—being called faggot was jarring. The insult was enough to muster in Jake the footwork and dexterity to land a punch to the right side of Kirby’s jaw.

  Caught off guard, Kirby didn’t even see it coming. His head popped back when the bones in Jake’s knuckles met the bone of his jawline. Initially it felt as if it had been dislocated. Kirby shuffled his jaw back and forth a couple of times and realized that he could at least still move it and open his mouth. However, on defense and needing to protect himself, he couldn’t worry about the extent of his injury now. Intent on taking Jake down and gaining the upper hand, Kirby lunged at Jake, barreling his head into his chest like a bull, so fast and with such bodily force that Jake fell back on the sofa.

  With Kirby on top of him, Jake began swinging for dear life, anticipating that Kirby would return the blow. But Kirby grabbed Jake’s wrists to stop him from swinging and pinned them back behind Jake’s head.

  “Why are you doing this to us? I fucking love you. I love you,” Kirby said.

  Jake, struggling to break free, yelled back, “I hate you.”

  Kirby held down Jake’s wrists more tightly and repeated, “I love you. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to hurt you, bro. Stop this. Why are you doing this to us? I want to be with you.”

  “You should’ve thought about that before you started fucking Antonio,” Jake said bitterly.

  “You know Antonio means nothing to me. It’s you that I want. What more do I need to say or do to prove that to you?” Kirby released Jake’s wrists and held his head in the palms of his hands. “I love you. I love you,” Kirby said again, his voice breaking and tears filling his eyes. He bent down and attempted to kiss Jake, but Jake wasn’t having it.

  His hands now free, Jake swung and landed another punch to Kirby’s right cheek. Because he was pinned down on his back, Jake didn’t deliver this punch as hard as the first one, but it was enough to prompt Kirby to retaliate this time. Kirby didn’t waste any time or hold back. Like a reflex, he slapped Jake’s face, hard.

  It was so hard that Jake saw sparks fly, the kind of sparks that occur when the brain is trying to process and interpret the electrical impulses triggered by blunt force trauma. Jake attempted to land another punch, swinging wildly, but was quickly disabled when Kirby grabbed him by the neck and began choking him.

  Jake looked up at Kirby and saw the rage in his face, seething and gritting his teeth while applying pressure to Jake’s trachea, cutting off oxygen. Jake immediately started struggling to breathe, gasping for air and flushing in the face. He reached for Kirby’s wrists to try pulling his hands from his neck, but Jake knew that Kirby had him and that there was little he could do at that point. Jake’s vision started to blur as his eyes reddened and filled with tears from the stress and pressure that was preventing him from breathing freely. When he felt himself losing strength and slipping out of consciousness, Jake gave in and stopped pulling on Kirby’s wrists. All he could do was ask for a reprieve. “Kirby…please,” Jake pleaded, barely able to get the words out.

  Kirby promptly stopped. He pulled up off Jake and stood to his feet, appearing in shock.

  Jake sat up and massaged his neck. He gave a deep-throated cough a few times before he was able to speak. “What are you trying to do…kill me?”

  Kirby just stared at him in a daze for a moment before he responded. “I’m sorry, man. I lost control. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” Kirby said before he broke down in tears and raised his hands to cover his face.

  Incredulous and startled by what had just happened, Jake was unforgiving. “I couldn’t breathe. I nearly passed out, asshole. I hate you. I fucking hate you so much right now. Get out. I never want to see you ever again,” Jake yelled, rising to his feet.

  Kirby picked up his phone and wallet from the floor, which had somehow fallen out of his pockets in the melee. With tears streaming down his face, he said one more time, “I’m sorry, man.”

  “Get out!” Jake screamed as he watched Kirby, with head bowed, turn to walk out quietly and close the door behind him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kirby drove back home feeling regret and remorse for what had just transpired. He hadn’t meant to hurt Jake, but after taking two punches to the face, his temper boiled over and he instinctively reacted to defend himself. He knew things with Jake would get testy, but he hadn’t anticipated a physical altercation. He had hoped a hot-blooded argument with Jake would have concluded with a hot-blooded make-out session followed by sex, finally leading to the resolving of the differences between them, when all would be forgiven. However, it now seemed that his relationship with Jake was irrevocably broken. All chances for a reconciliation now gone. It shook him, and he needed to talk to someone. When Kirby got home, he called his cousin Myla.

  “Hey, cousin,” Myla said cheerfully when she answered her phone.

  “It’s over, Myla. Me and Jake are now officially over.”

  “Why? Did you finally talk to him?”

  “We got into a fight.”

  “A fight? What do you mean, a fight?”

  “We got into a fight.”

  “As in a physical fight?”

  “Yeah. He punched me in the face. Twice.”

  “Whaaat!” Myla yelled. “Oh my God. Are you all right?”

  “I think my jaw might be slightly dislocated. I’m not entirely sure. At least I can talk, but it feels funny,” Kirby said, stretching his mouth open and shut while rubbing his jaw.

  “Where were you?”

  “At his house. I crashed his birthday party last night to confront him but, of course, he didn’t want to speak to me there, so we agreed to meet at his house this morning.”

  “Where was his birthday party?”

  “At The Cottage in Santa Monica.”

  “I bet he wasn’t happy about that. Why’d you crash his party?”

  “Because he wouldn’t return any of my calls or messages,” Kirby retorted defensively.

  “So what happened? Why did he punch you?”

  “As soon as I walked in the door he got in my face, and we started jawing at each other. From there, things got heated pretty fast, and we started tussling. Then I kissed him.”

  “You kissed him?”

  “Yeah. And he kissed me back at first. But then we started tussling and jawing at each other again.”

  “Wait. I don’t get it. He kissed you but then you started arguing again?”

  “You know. It was all in the heat of the moment. You’ve never been in a fight with a boyfriend or lover where y
ou fuss and fight and make out at the same time?”

  “No. But my love life or lack thereof is a whole other story. Anyway, continue.”

  “So, we were kissing and tussling at the same time at one point. And then he said something, and then I said something, and then he pushed me in the face.”

  “He pushed you in the face? What did you say?”

  “It was in the heat the moment. I don’t remember,” Kirby lied, not wanting to go into all of the detail about the sexual taunts and innuendo he and Jake had thrown at each other. “I slapped back at him and then we started wrestling. I was trying to tackle him, to hold him down, but then he went crazy on me and started throwing fists. I didn’t want to fight him like that. I kept ducking and pulling back to keep him from hitting me but then he landed one on my jaw. It all happened so fast. I barely remember everything.”

  “Did you hit back?”

  “I didn’t at first. I managed to tackle him down and held his arms back. I tried to tell him that I didn’t want to fight, that I didn’t want to hurt him, that I loved him and wanted to be with him.”

  “But—”

  “But he wouldn’t listen to me. I let go of his arms so that he could see that I wasn’t going to try to hit him back, so he could see that I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but when I let go, he started swinging at me again, and he nailed me in the face, near the same spot as before.”

  Myla huffed and sounded incredulous now. “And you didn’t hit back? What did you do?”

  “I started choking him.”

  “You choked him?”

  Overcome with emotion and disappointment, Kirby broke down and started to cry, not able to speak for a moment.

  There was a pause on the other end of the line at first. Then Myla began to speak again, her voice filled with concern and alarm. “Kirby? Are you okay?”

  “No, but I’ll survive. I didn’t mean to hurt him. Despite everything, I still loved Jake. I tried to tell him—”

  “Oh my God, Kirby. You’re scaring me. You choked Jake? Where is he?”

  “I guess he’s still at home. I don’t know. Oh…he probably left to meet his family by now. They were taking him to brunch for his birthday.”

  “So Jake’s okay?”

  “Yeah. I think he’s fine.”

  Myla sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “Oh, thank God. For a second there I thought you were telling me that you had killed him or something. Seriously…you nearly gave me a heart attack, Kirby.”

  “No, I didn’t kill him, but I nearly killed him.”

  There was another pause on the line between them momentarily. Kirby sniffled a few times and then got up to grab some tissue.

  “So where do you go from here?” Myla asked softly.

  “I don’t know. I feel like killing myself right now.”

  “Kirby, don’t say that. Why would you say that?”

  “Because I do. I just want to roll over and die right now. I hate myself. I just feel so low right now, like I’m not good enough…for anything or anyone.”

  “What are you talking about? You have a deal with GTV right now to produce your first TV pilot. You have so much going for you—”

  “But even with the pilot, I feel like it’s Jeff who’s getting all of the attention and the credit. They treat me like I’m just a fucking understudy even though the show’s mostly my idea, and I wrote most of the script.”

  “That’s probably because they know him better. He’s already produced a couple of pilots before, hasn’t he? I’m sure everything will change once—”

  “You know what Jake said?” Kirby asked, interrupting Myla and not really paying attention to what she was telling him. “He said that Reggie’s a better lover than me and that he could teach me a thing or two in the bedroom. I mean, seriously? I still can’t believe he hooked up with that dude. I can’t get over that.”

  “Kirby, listen. Hear me out. You’ve got to get past that. Get that out of your mind and move on. You’re smart. You’re attractive. You have a family that loves and supports you. You have great friends. You have a great network of contacts in the industry. You’re twenty-seven and you’re producing a freakin’ TV show. I mean, come on. That’s amazing! You’ve got so much going for you. You’re going places. You can’t allow this setback with Jake to take you down, to keep you from moving forward. Some relationships last and some don’t. That’s life. Some people come into our lives for a reason, for a specific purpose—to help us grow, to challenge us, to struggle with us, to teach us something about ourselves we didn’t know before.”

  “I’m not sure I know right now what this experience with Jake has taught me, though.”

  “Well, I guess, for one, that you’re capable of loving a man and loving him hard. I’ve known you since we were in diapers. Jake is the first person you’ve ever admitted to being in love with. After all of the girls you’ve dated over the years, I would have never in my wildest dreams thought that the person you’d love and want to be with the most would be another guy.”

  “Well, now I really know. He doesn’t love me back. Not anymore.”

  “Do you think Jake ever really loved you?”

  “I thought so.”

  “Hmmm,” Myla uttered, sounding doubtful. “I know its cliché to say, but there are plenty of fish in the sea. While Jake’s trying to figure out who he is and what he wants, it’s time for you to find a man who’s worthy of you and of everything that you have to offer. You deserve that, Kirby. You deserve to have someone who will love you back openly and completely and not try to keep you tucked away and hidden in a closet like you’re some kind of secret sex toy with no feelings or emotions. I think Jake was objectifying you. Using you for sexual exploitation when it was convenient for him while maintaining this straight, frat boy façade because that’s what he thinks he needs to do to get ahead and maintain his status and position. Now it looks like he’s found someone else to objectify. And clearly he has a type. He goes from you to this guy Reggie? I don’t know. It seems like Jake has a particular craving for chocolate, if you ask me.”

  A craving? An object for sexual exploitation? That’s not what Kirby wanted to hear. He knew his cousin was trying to cheer him up and provide a booster shot to his self-esteem, but he was too upset and distracted to talk with her any further.

  “Hey, listen. I have another call coming through,” Kirby lied. “It’s Jeff. We’re taping the pilot tomorrow, and I’m sure he wants to go over a few last-minute things. I’ll call you back later. Love you. Bye.”

  Kirby ended the call feeling even more distressed. Deep down, he had truly believed that Jake loved him once, but now he had doubts. Jake had put up such resistance to the idea of them being together romantically as a real couple, and then he brazenly admitted to hooking up with Reggie with such braggadocio. Kirby wondered if perhaps he had been objectified by Jake—used by him to fulfill a secret sexual fantasy, to satisfy a fetish. Myla had a point. Jake had moved on to another guy, another black guy who worked out and had a nice physique just like Kirby. Maybe it simply was only about the sex, his body, and the size of his endowment all along, Kirby thought. The expression of love during the act was, perhaps, just pretend, merely a part of the fantasy Jake had used him for.

  It was an extreme view for Kirby to take on his long relationship with Jake, but the view was now more uncertain and unclear than ever before. It made Kirby question everything he thought he knew. The idea that he was nothing more than a sex object to Jake made him feel like shit and less than human. The feeling of rejection was made worse by the belief that Jake had perhaps lied to Kirby about him being the only guy he’d ever been with before Reggie. Memories of Jake and Will together, horsing around in a suggestive, homoerotic way at the bachelor party in Las Vegas, resurfaced in Kirby’s thoughts. It made him angry, sad, and confused. Maybe he didn’t know Jake as well as he’d thought. And the idea that someone else had touched Jake and loved on him the way Kirby had, for so long, was too muc
h to take. Even worse, the thought that Reggie had entered Jake, fucked him at Jake’s invitation, felt like a dagger straight to the heart. Kirby had always believed that intercourse would be an experience reserved for him and him alone if Jake had ever decided he wanted to go that far with another man. Now Kirby felt robbed. He felt cheated out of what he thought was his to have. He knew he didn’t own and control Jake, but his sense of possessiveness over him and his body could be intoxicating. The idea of Jake and Reggie together sexually crippled Kirby with such intense jealousy that he felt rejected; he felt weak; he felt played; he felt betrayed; he felt like a bitch. And he hated himself for having those feelings, for allowing himself to be turned out like that by a man. It wounded his pride, but he couldn’t help it. He loved Jake too much.

  Disconsolate and overcome with so many conflicting emotions, Kirby lay on his bed, flat on his back, and then took the pillow, pressed it to his face, and screamed. It muffled his loud cry. He wanted to smother himself and tried to do so, but it required more energy and effort than he was exerting. He came close but ultimately didn’t have the will. He threw the pillow aside, then curled into a fetal position and wept until he fell asleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After he’d cooled off, Jake felt terrible about the way things went down with Kirby. The fight was not what he had expected or wanted but, already on edge before their clash occurred, Jake felt that he had gotten sucked into it. That Kirby had provoked him. When he awoke and prepared himself to leave for work Monday morning, he nearly called Kirby to express regret for his part in their altercation and apologize for punching him. He also wanted to set the record straight and inform Kirby that things were not as they’d seemed between him and Reggie. However, Jake decided to let it go, at least for now. Save it for another time, Jake concluded. He wanted to stay focused on the task at hand—taking the necessary steps to reunite with Amanda.