Jack Torrance
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Wicked Proposition Part XXIX
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 18:54:22 +0000 UTCTHIS IS NOT SPIDER AND FLY 3. FRANKLY I JUST COULDN'T DO THAT ONE THIS WEEK. IT'S BEEN HECTIC. AND I'M JUST AS SICK OF THE EXCUSES AS YOU ARE. ALSO IDK WHY PATREON IS MAKING ME SELL MY POSTS AT $3 A POP I THINK THAT'S TOO MUCH BUT I'VE BEEN UP FOR 15 HOURS WRITING AND I GOTTA GO TO BED.
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!
Kerryn and Roger froze. That was a cop knock. Kerryn looked out the window.
“The fuck did we do??!” She whispered.
“Go inside the bedroom and hide that shit…” Roger replied, hushing his tone and making a gun gesture with this hands.
BOOM, BOOM, BOOOM, BOOM!
“COMING!!!” Roger barked.
He cracked the door for the police. There were six of them. That amused him a bit.
“Mr. Keef?” One asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re under arrest…”
“For what?”
“Assault and battery…”
Roger sighed. “KER?!!”
“YEAH?!!”
“I’m gettin’ booked. Keep the phone on. OK?”
The bedroom door flung open and Kerryn came waddling out.
“The fuck did he do to break the law??!!”
“He assaulted a man two days ago. Broke his nose…”
“What!?”
“Ker, Ker, I’m beggin’ ya… Just… Relax. I’ll be home in a minute. This is all a big misunderstanding…”
“Who did he assault?!!?”
“Both of ya’s got records. I can take him or I can search your place. Your choice…”
Roger gave Kerryn the eyes and she slowly plopped herself down on the couch. She blew him a kiss.
“You been through worse, baby. I love you!”
“Love you too…”
The cuffs were so tight there was no angle at which he could sit in the back of the cruiser without having his circulation half cut-off. But he knew better than to complain.
He was squirming in that backseat as one vein was smothered, and another was relieved of the pressure. He didn’t say a word. He just looked at the floor and took deep breaths. He was out in the burbs but the memories of being beaten by the BPD were fresh in his mind.
They searched him, found nothing, took his mugshot, and gave him his one phone call. He called Evan…
“Hello?!”
“Evan? Bro, it’s me, Roger…”
“What’s up, man?”
“I got booked. Assault and battery…”
“Say less… You know what to do, don’t you?”
“Thanks, man. I know…”
“Mr. Keef. You been flying under the rardar for a while. But you got quite the record. I hope you know that puts you in even hotter water….”
“Lawyer, please.”
“Lawyer? Why?”
“Lawyer.”
“Yeah, but why? You guilty or something?”
“Lawyer.”
The detective spread his arms over the table and got up in Roger’s grill.
“I asked you why you need a lawyer. We’re just talking.”
Roger looked at the other cop. “You oughta keep your boyfriend in line. He’s awful rude…”
“BOYFRIEND?!?!”
Roger looked back at the more aggressive cop. “Yeah, that’s what I said, you fucking faggot. Bring me back to my cell, please, I’m not talking to you guys…”
“Roger, we just wannna know what happened.”
“If you knew what you needed to know I wouldn’t be in here. I’m not saying a God damn word…”
“You got a record a mile long, tough guy. You get popped for another violent crime? Yikes…”
“Bad cop really thinks he’s Chuck Liddell. I get it, though. You suburban cops don’t get to do this too often. But I’m gonna need a lawyer…”
“Why do you need a lawyer so badly if you’re innocent?” Good cop asked.
“So, you’re gonna tell me I got a right to remain silent and then chastise me for exercising it?!? Both of you can go fuck your mothers. Take your Psych 101 bullshit and stick it up your fuckin’ asses…”
“Liam’s nose was broken, Roger…”
“Did I not ask for a lawyer?”
“Hey, shithead. You can ask for a blowjob from Jessica fuckin’ Alba. Don’t mean it’s gonna happen. Tell us what happened.”
“So, I’m just not gonna get a lawyer? That’s what’s up?”
“We just don’t see why it’s necessary.”
“I mean that makes sense. A GED and 25 push-ups and you get to be a revenue collector for the state? I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But just know. I don’t give a fuck what you or this fat piece of shit says, I want a lawyer. Boys, I know you probably went to private school. But I’m from Dorchester. I know the tricks. Put me back in my cell.”
“We got video evidence of you whooping on Liam first.” Bad cop growled.
“So, why talk to me!? If you got it all figured out, why am I here? Please. Fuckin’ retards. If you got all the proof get me in front of a judge? But you don’t, do ya?”
Bad cop snarled at him, cauliflower ears bulging from a Sox cap.
“You get those ears fighting your wife? I hear a lot of you do that. What’s the matter? Can’t handle the job? I thought you faggots all took an oath or something? Why you hitttin’ your wife? You’re just gonna end up divorced anyway. Hope you like overtime…”
“Go ahead, motherfucker, keep it up, see what happens…” Bad cop growled. Roger could see th steam billowing from his nostrils. This man was very easily triggered.
“80-hour weeks. Paying two mortgages. Seeing your dumb fuck, stupid, retard, fuckin’ idiot kids on the weekend with a DCF member in the corner taking notes ‘cause you couldn’t handle something you signed up for. Beating on the blacks and Cape Verdeans 10 on one. Your kids will either be cops or junkies. Either way they’ll die miserable. I can tell you that much. Aye, bad cop, you hear me? I said I hope your fuckin’ kid overdoses on dr…”
And there it was. Officer Terrence O’Leary never should’ve been a cop. But there was a hiring crisis. And despite the red flags on his psychological tests, he was brought on…
He clocked Roger in the face, to which Roger smiled as blood ran from his nose down his lips and chin.
“You fuckin’ idiot! You just cost us this case!” Good cop screamed.
“You hear what he said about my fuckin’ kids?!? That’s not gonna slide. How you doin’, fuckin’ Donnie Wahlberg? You want some more or what?!”
“I’d like a lawyer, to be completely honest. Is that how hard you hit your wife? ‘Cause if so, she might stick around. Ah, who am I kidding? You’re what? 35? Must be two marriages deep at this point. Y’know they say kids always rebel against their parents…”
“If that were true, Keef, you’d be a preacher.” Good cop said.
“I’m not talkin’ to you; you know my game. This dumb fuck just blew his own case because I told him his, again, worthless, shithead, half-retard, idiot children are gonna get blown away by gang members or OD in a Motel Six. I’d hope it’s the Motel Six ‘cause all these small town retards would reward your wife and kids with millions of dollars. For fuckin’ up at work? Ugh. Imagine that…”
“Go ahead Mr. Professional Author. With his pig of a girlfriend…”
“I’m a pizza man now, actually…”
The cops laughed. “Of course you are. Not like you got any skills anyway…”
“Oh, man, you boys got me. If only I too could work 16 hours a day to have a shitty house in Norwood with an above ground pool and kids who are afraid of me. Because I hit my wife. Because I hate my life…”
“I hear you’re in the program these days, Keef. I woulda said good for you, but you must not be doin’ your step work…”
“Lawyer.”
“Why are you so insistent on a lawyer, can’t we just talk?! You didn’t do it, right?!” Good Cop asked.
“Because I been in these rooms a million times. You wouldn’t have me here if you wanted to help me. Y’know I’m from Dorchester, don’t ya? Those guys… Now those guys know how to throw a proper ass whoopin’. You suburban guys, though? Reviving a couple white girls every night and dumpin’ ‘em at the hospital? I get why Five Finger Death Punch resonates so much with you…”
Bad Cop got ready to throw another one.
“Candid camera, remember asshole?”
“Those tapes get lose all the time… Ever since we switched to digital…” Good Cop said.
Roger laughed. “Can I go back to my fucking cell, please? The Punisher here is boring me…”
“If that’s the way you want…”
The interrogation room burst open and the boisterous defense attorney Samuel Mackey launched into theatric mode.
“What the Hell are you two doing talking to my client without my presence?!”
He tried to hide how out of breath he was as he dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief.
“He’s talking to us.”
“Why the Hell is his nose bleeding?”
“Musta fell… I dunno…”
Sam smiled, his cheeks dimpling as he adjusted his square-framed glasses. “We’re gonna find that tape. One way or another… So. Is my client detained?”
Bad Cop rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No…”
“…So, he’s not under arrest?”
“We just wanted to talk to him…”
“And he requested legal counsel, did he not?”
“Yeah, several times.” Roger interjected.
Samuel laughed and rubbed his chubby hands together. “I don’t suppose you boys even looked at the actual tape from the confrontation?”
“The individual who reported it seemed credible….”
“Who is this individual? I’ll find out anyway.”
“The victim’s wife.”
Samuel looked down at Roger. “Do you know her?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Well, let’s get you the Hell out of here. Because I’ve seen the video, and you have no case here. ROR bond…”
“ROR??! Are you fuckin’ nuts?! He’s got a record a mile long!”
“My client has changed his life and recently celebrated three years of sobriety. Can people not change?”
Bad Cop looked at Good Cop and they mutually shrugged. “This isn’t over, Keef.”
“I’m sure it isn’t.”
As he was ushered out of jail, Samuel, breathless and red-faced, began to grill him.
“What happened? Really?”
“I fucked Liam’s wife, Wilma, a few years back. Before I got sober. She was a lot heavier then…”
Samuel put his hand up. “And, so, why is this coming back?”
“Because I told her husband, Liam, that I did it. I couldn’t take the guilt.”
“And then?”
“He shows up shitfaced at my apartment with a baseball bat. Which he swung at me twice with before I took it from him and threw it. Told him to get his lick in. Then I got him in the nose pretty good. Probably broke it…”
Samuel sighed deeply. “You’re gonna be fine, kid. Even here in Massachusetts. You defended yourself…”
“Did you really see the video?”
“No… I was bluffing. But I will get ahold of it. And I hope it matches what you just told me…”
“It will.”
“Alright. I think we’re fine, then….”
**
“Jesus Christ, baby, are you OK!?!?”
“Don’t get up… I’m fine.”
Roger blew a Rorschach test of blood into a paper towel as Kerryn sat on the couch, engorged and massive but visibly concerned.
“Are they charging you?!”
“Assault and battery. It’s not gonna stick, though. They got a camera out front…”
“…So they saw me pull my shit out!?!” Kerryn gasped.
“Yeah. But I don’t know that they’re so interested in that…”
“OK… That fuckin’ queer really ratted you out after you beat his ass, huh? What’re you doin’ for getback?”
“Jesus Christ, Kerryn, I’m almost 40 years old. I don’t want getback.”
“Baby, he came at you…”
“And I hit him back.”
“Do you know who snitched on you?”
“I do. And that’ll stay with me. I fucked his wife. He had a right to do what he did. I was just better at it…”
“Yeah, you were… Seeing the way you fuckin’ bashed his nose in… Mmm…”
“I didn’t like doing that…”
“You did what you had to do, baby. That’s all. I just get so hot watching my man be a man…”
She tugged on her t-shirt, shrink-wrapped around her breasts as she tried to cool off. Roger snuggled closer to her.
“Oh, yeah? I had my ass kicked before too, y’know…”
“Me too. But you fought back. That’s what’s important. And that poor prick was way over his head…”
“I’d agree…”
**
Roger put out his cigarette and called Wilma. Samuel hadn’t been able to get ahold of her, and her counsel were playing phone tag. She answered immediately.
“Hello?”
“What the fuck, Wilma?”
“What do you mean, ‘what the fuck?!!?’ You broke Liam’s nose…”
“After he hit me and swung on me with a bat twice. If I was you, I’d drop the charges…”
“No… No fucking way. You’ll be at Father Bill’s by the time we’re done with you…”
“I don’t want this to go any further than this. But all the evidence is in my favor. I’m sure your shitbag lawyer said he could guarantee a victory but once they get that video… It’s over…”
“I got a different story from Liam…”
“Of course you got a different story from Liam! He was supposed to come through and whoop my ass for fucking you. And he thought wrong. I hit him once Wilma. To show him I wasn’t fucking around…”
“You know what, Roger!? You’re… I fucking hate you. So much… What’s changed for you and that fuckin’ pig you’re with?! Huh??!”
“Not a whole lot, Wilma. You always did have a lot more to lose than me…”
The tears started. Roger rolled his eyes.
“Everything was fine. We were making love again. The kids were better off. And now it’s ruined! I hope you’re happy, Roger. I hope your soul is nice and cleansed. Sanctimonious fucking hypocrite. Where do you get off destroying my life!!??! Huh!?!”
“It was either treat my best friend like a moron or tell him the truth. I had to, Wilma. It’s been haunting me…”
“Oh, it’s been haunting you, huh? And your feelings are all that matter. Unlike you, Roger, you fucking perpetual bachelor son of a bitch, I have shit to lose here… Not that you’d know anything about that…”
“I knew I didn’t have shit to lose, Wilma. I tried to push you away. But I get it. You gotta remember it like that so you can blame me. It was both of us…”
“So, what was your bail!?”
“Talk to my attorney about that…”
“You gotta be shitting me, Roger! They just let you out?!?!”
“Wilma, I’m telling you right now… You’re fighting a losing battle. Once that tape comes out it’s over…”
“You’re just gonna skate on by, like you always do, right Roger??!”
“I hurt a man I considered my brother. Over and over again. I can’t go back in time. But I can be honest with him….”
“BUT WHAT ABOUT US, ROGER!?! THE KIDS ARE BESIDE THEMSELVES AND LIAM IS LOSING HIS GOD DAMN MIND!! DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO EMBARRASS HIM LIKE THAT?!”
“What was I supposed to do!?!? Let him beat my ass? He had a few free shots, and he missed. Y’know what? I bet this is what that’s all about. But let me tell you, Wilma… It didn’t feel good. None of this feels good…”
“THEN WHY DO IT!?? WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO IT IF IT DOESN’T FEEL GOOD!?”
“Because I couldn’t take the guilt anymore! I just couldn’t! I would end up using again…”
“Here we go again with the sobriety shit. Y’know what, Roger? Most of us have the common sense not to stick a fuckin’ needle in our arm in the first place…”
“You’re right, Wilma. I’m a fuckin’ idiot. I’ll pay for it all someday. I know I will. But I’m done lying to people…”
“BUT ROGER, YOU GOT FUCKING SOBER, I LOST THE WEIGHT, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU FUCK IT ALL UP…”
“I never felt more sober than I do now, Wilma. And I am truly sorry to the kids…”
“IF YOU WERE REALLY SORRY YOU WOULD’VE KEPT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT! DON’T GIMME THAT BULLSHIT…”
“I guess I’ll see you in court, Wilma. Other than that I have nothing else to say to you.”
“That’s not how this ends, Roger. Absolutely not.”
“It does. I been through the system, Wilma. A few times. It’s not fair. It’s slow. It’s expensive. It’s not justice. I’d urge you to let it go…”
“What about Liam!?”
“Maybe we both should’ve thought more about him than ourselves. I have no ill will for him. But make no mistake, Wilma. If he comes back to my place, I will turn his face into a fuckin’ eggplant…”
“This isn’t fair. It’s so unfair…”
“Yeah, well, life is unfair…”
“We had it perfect. Everything was back to normal. And you had to fuck it up… You cocksucker….”
“Lying to your husband while he’s in your corner is noble now?”
“Ignorance is bliss, Roger, you can’t deny that.”
“I abused Liam too many times over the years to keep it from him. Again. I’m sorry. But I’ll see you in court should you decide to pursue this…”
“You know I really had feelings for you, you fuck…”
He hung up the phone. Kerryn smiled at him, leaning on her palm.
“You really gave it to that bitch….”
“Guess I did, huh?”
“I love it when you get aggressive… It’s so hot…”
She smothered him in her fat and grabbed his dick, planting her plump lips on his and taking him whether he wanted it or not. Mama Bear was hungry.
He wasn’t really in the mood. But then she shifted her weight onto him, and he really felt how heavy she was. And all of a sudden everything else melted away. Thank God for pussy. He’d have put a bullet in his head otherwise.
“You like me being a fuckin’ prick, huh?”
“Mhm… Tough guy… I seen what you did to that fuckin’ queer…”
“That queer was my fucking brother at one point. So, watch your fuckin’ mouth…”
She pulled away suddenly, unsure whether to hit him or hug him. Baffled. He kept a stern expression though he wasn’t sure what he meant by it.
“I’m sorry, hon…”
“Nah, nah, I get what you mean, I just… There’s no amount of money. Or gestures of gratitude that can fix what I did. And it drives me fuckin’ crazy…”
“There’s shit I did I can never take back. I remember this one bitch in Framingham… DUI rich girl. Prime target for extortion… Anyhow, I beat the fuck out of her. I mean I beat her, Roger. All for some fuckin’ commissary… I was in a shit mood, and she just happened to be coming in. I had a chair… And I just remember bashing her with it until the legs were all fucked up. The CO’s maced me. I got put in the box… Ugh…”
She pinned him down with the heft of her body. “When I got out, though? Bitches weren’t making eye contact with me. Just payments.”
“I believe it.”
“But I’m sweet, deep down, aren’t I?”
“Sure…”
“You can’t move right now, can you?”
“Nope…”
“Oh my God… Bedroom. Now. Mister…”
“Yes ma’am…”
They found themselves once again entangled in their bed. It’d been making ominous creaking noises that Kerryn ignored by Roger addressed as subtly as he could. They ended up with a “Big Fig,” a mattress for people so fat they’re likely only available in America.
Roger’s phone rang. He grunted in frustration and picked it up. It was Samuel.
“Hello?”
“Roger?”
“Speaking….”
“Babe, c’mon…”
“Sshhhh…”
“You sound a bit preoccupied. I’ll keep it brief. I got ahold of the security tapes. No jury on planet earth would convict you. I got him crystal clear swinging that bat at you twice and him striking you once before you struck him. You can rest easy, my friend. She’ll drop the charges in the next few days.”
“OK, that’s awesome! Thanks…”
“Not a problem… Enjoy…”
“Yeah…”
Kerryn was mounting him, overwhelming him, as he hung up the phone and sighed, tossing it onto the nightstand.
“She’s gonna drop the charges… If she’s got a brain…”
“I told you, baby…”
“I was sweating that shit, man… Imagine going to jail sober…”
“Ugh, no way. No can do. I needa be loaded for three days at least.”
“Same…”
“You never did time…”
“I did a couple bids in lockup for arraignment.”
Kerryn laughed. “Oh, yeah? Mad bids, kid?”
“Mad bids…”
They kissed and rolled around like pigs until he inevitably mounted her, his cock diamond-hard as 500+ pounds banged against his pelvis over and over. She moaned and panted and grunted and sweated like she always did.
Christ almighty had she gotten fat. As he stuffed his cock in and out of her he remembered when they’d met. How thin she was, at least by comparison.
But he loved her. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
**
“Here…” Wilma hissed, handing Liam a fresh ice pack.
Tears leaked from Liam’s raccoon eyes as his wife, disgusted, turned her back on him. “How long are we gonna sit around and cry about this?”
“What!?”
“I mean we should be calling lawyers, right? You said it yourself, a cheater’s a cheater…”
“I never used the ‘D’ word…”
“Oh, c’mon, Liam, yes you did. You just phrased it like you always do… You say shit without saying it…”
“Can you stop busting my balls?”
“What the fuck were you even thinking taking on Roger in the first place? You know his background. Thank God he didn’t have a gun…”
“Oh, all of a sudden you like him again, huh?”
“No… That’s not what I’m saying! That’s not what I’m saying at all! It’s just… He’s…”
“He’s a gangster. A thug. He lives in a shithole with that fuckin’ pig girlfriend of his. Living the dream… Please…”
“He’s turned his life around…”
“But has he really? He’s still doing what he’s always done. He just hits the gym and doesn’t do drugs now… What, you disagree?”
Wilma stared at herself in the mirror. She was south of 200 pounds and couldn’t believe it. She tucked a pair of pants under her chin and folded them before putting them in a drawer.
“What’s he gonna do, Lee? Honestly? He kinda had his moment… And he blew it.”
“I stood by him through that. I remember the day he lost his deal. I thought he was gonna OD on Coke. He scared me. He scared me a lot. And I stood by him…”
Wilma hip-checked the drawer shut. Her eyes grew wet and she put her hand on her husband’s forehead. She began to sniffle and bury her face in her elbow.
“What?” Liam asked.
“I’m just sorry… Liam, if I had any choice in this I would’ve never told you.”
“After the vows we took? And how I supported you while you lost all the weight?!”
“Well, now that we know, look where we are!”
“I know I made mistakes, Wilma. I know I did. But… Roger?”
“He looked at me and made me feel sexy. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry...”
“Do you understand what this looks like? I tried to get revenge, got my ass beat, and don’t you fuckin’ lie to me that that doesn’t make me less attractive to you.”
“Excuse me?!”
“It’s female anatomy 101. I’m supposed to be the provider, the protector…”
“You’ve seen Roger’s ugly side, Liam…”
“Bet you have too. Haven’t you? Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. I was a good enough dad… I kept a roof over our heads…”
“Liam, I was depressed…”
“Oh, BULLSHIT! EVERYONE’S DEPRESSED! HAVE YOU LOOKED OUTSIDE?!? YOU BLEW UP LIKE A FUCKING BLIMP AND, YES, I BEGAN TO RESENT YOU FOR IT. AND THAT WAS WRONG. AND I’M SORRY. BUT DEPRESSION, WILMA? WE’RE GONNA PIN FUCKING MY FORMER BEST FRIEND ON DEPRESSION?!”
“You completely iced me out. You barely spoke to me…”
“Because there was no way I could say, ‘Hey, honey… You’re really fat. What’s going on?’”
“Oh, shut the fuck up. You are so full of shit. I know you better than anyone, Liam. You could’ve said what you wanted to say. You were just too much of a pussy to say it…”
Liam didn’t respond. He just squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the ice pack down.
“I’m gonna look up lawyer numbers…” Wilma said as she stomped out of the bedroom.
Comments
Jack Torrance
Will look into that
Justin
Another great chapter
Justin
Someone else I’m following doesn’t seem to have trouble posting a docx file. Patreon get your shit together
