Anotha Storm

"You're a fucking puppet," he let out. "And Victor is pulling the strings."


"And you're not?" I challenged, counterattacking. "The only difference between you and me is you're getting fucked up the ass with a hand."


"No," he returned, snapping, "you're getting fucked by everyone, and I'm not."


He was right. I did feel like a puppet.


"That's the fucking difference, and you know it," he exposed.


"You didn't have a fucking problem fucking this ass," I reminded him angrily. "In fact, if I recall correctly, you enjoyed it." I wanted to scream but couldn't.


My entire life seemed like it was no longer mine. It belonged to someone else. If I was given a chance to make things right, could I do it? Would I do it?


There was so much that was wrong in my life over the last year that I almost didn't know what to say, think, or do. I felt as if I couldn't trust anyone except my lovers, Julio and Antonio. Everyone around me seemed different, especially Patrick.


Victor had put me through so much, and now all I wanted was justice and having him in custody where he belonged. That would be the start of that justice, I believed. But then again, I could be wrong because with the kind of money that Victor and his brother Travis and Christopher possessed, they could buy the country and still have money to burn. In fact, I would not be satisfied until I knew that they would all be behind bars and the key thrown away so they'd never get out-if they ever made it to jail.


I kept playing the idea of me being Victor's son in my head, and knowing what he had put me through himself personally and had allowed others on his behalf to put me through, it only pissed me off and caused me to become more bitter by the moment. How could he force me to do those awful things, and how could he use me the way he used me? And to think my family unbeknownst to them it was me or I, them, and they played a part in his wicked, sick game.


I was a puppet, and he was right when he told me I was one. However, I was hell-bent on cutting those strings and freeing myself of Victor and anyone else that was associated with him. And regardless of what I believed, I had a choice to make, and the only question was, would I make the right choice at the end?


More sex, more drugs, more taboo, and more forbidden games. I would do whatever I had to do to see the fall of Victor Grant. He was going down, one way or the other, and I would do whatever I had to do to make sure I was the one who took him down.