Authors: Blair Aaron
“Ha! I got you bitch. Now everyone will know you were lying.”
Jamie's pupils dilated as he inhaled in shock. “Give me that, faggot. They'll never believe you.”
“Maybe not me, but definitely this recording,” Carter said, jumping off the elevated wooden porch onto the damp mountain earth. He started for Stetson's blue truck, Jamie trying to grab him. In an instant, Carter realized not all the powerlessness he had felt through his life need be his destiny, and he jumped into the truck, locking the door. As he pulled around and out the driveway, down the road, he could see through the rear-view mirror Jamie aim a small pistol in his direction. A loud metallic bang followed a small orange flash. Carter's heart raced, not just from fear this time, but also at last, because he hoped.
V
The cell was small and smelled of piss. Stetson leaned back against the cement wall in his orange jump suit. The guards were cold to him when changed out of his clothes, but he could tell they were afraid. He was a murderer in their eyes, and given his size, any sudden movement send the guards' pulses pounding. The truth was obviously that he wasn't a murderer, but he did kill someone, so the sentiment was not altogether without warrant. Stetson found himself for the first time able to watch his own behavior and intentions. This was no doubt some kind of growth from the love he had for Carter, another guy, something he thought was impossible for him. Stetson was a straight man, large and looming, with a big dick and hunger for women. But falling in love with Carter changed his own perception of himself, and circumstances required him to grow up emotionally. He found himself surprised by his reaction to being framed for murder by that piss ant Jamie. He thought a proper response to Presley Watkins' handcuffing him should be shock, fear, awe, anger, or surprise. But he felt none of these things. Instead, what he felt in that moment, and for the 12 hours after, was utter and complete arousal for Carter. This and nothing else filled his mind as he was placed into a police cruiser, booked, photographed, fingerprinted, and changed. He wanted to make love to the kid again, as often as he could, because something mysterious had taken over him. Carter dominated his thoughts, flooding his blood with the fire of a thousand suns, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck his brains out, if only to show the kid that he belonged to Stetson. Passion, loyalty, protectiveness exuded from his heart towards Carter, unending. The guards even noticed his massive erection when making him change. Stetson didn't doubt that this did anything to allay their fears of what his body was capable of, yet another sign of their inferior status as men. They simply looked away in shame and embarrassment.
When the guard finally came to his cell to feed him lunch, the fluorescent lights burned through his eyeballs.
“Lunch big guy.”
“That mean it's noon?” Stetson asked as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“It's 3 actually. You've got a visitor.” Stetson sat up in his chair, dropping his burrito onto the dirty floor. The guard walked away and a loud buzz released the prison cell door. Stetson got up and followed the guard out onto an open picnic area, enclosed by metal wire on the perimeter of the large space. The guard shut the door behind him and Stetson could see Carter standing at the gate.
Carter took a step closer to him and watched him without saying anything. His face was expressionless, and Stetson wanted to know more than anything what he was thinking. Carter looked down at Stetson's cuffed hands. He reached out to touch them gently, letting out a soft whimper.
“Look what they've done to you,” Carter said. “I'm going to get you out of this man. I promise. It's all my fault. I should have killed him when I had a chance. That son of a bitch.”
“I'll be fine. You worry about somebody else,” Stetson said.
“Do you know where you are? If they know about us, those thugs on the inside will destroy you the first chance they get.”
“Let's go back over behind that hill. They won't see.”
“Are you insane? Are you not aware of the danger we're in? You're in, I mean.”
“I'll find a way out of this mess.”
“No you won't Stetson. They've got you trapped. The jury has been rigged. The prosecutor will deny whatever he needs to in order to beat you. And no one will take my word for it because they know I'm queer.”
“I'll break out.”
“I have a better idea. I recorded my brother confessing yesterday when I went to the house. The son of a bitch set you up. He wanted me killed! If that won't hold up in court, I don't know what will.”
“Shitter,” Stetson said, as he spit onto the ground. “Let's take a walk.” He had a look in his eye that Carter intuitively understood to mean was sexual. Despite all the stress and fear of the situation, Carter absorbed Stetson's sexual heat by osmosis. The fever infected him over the course of the few minutes it took to traverse the lawn of the compound, over the hill, down into a smooth crevice, a natural marital bed for the two of them. Carter knew what they were about to do would be recorded by the cameras, but he also knew this might be the last time he got this close to the man, or even see him alive. As the big moment approached, Carter's penis grew engulfed with blood and his senses kicked into high gear. Everything about Stetson became hypersensitive--his musky aroma, the thickness of his back and ass, the strength of his thighs, and the bristle touch of the hair on his head. Carter sat down on the grassy slope and unbuttoned his pants, revealing his erect penis. Stetson's hands were cuffed, but he didn't hesitate to use his mouth, almost immediately wrapping his lips around Carter's penis like a hungry wolf, sucking with a force Carter never knew. It was intense and Carter pulled Stetson's fingers to his lips, sucking and licking the taste of all his strength and power. Carter had never fantasized about being watched but in this moment, he couldn't help himself. He needed Stetson inside of him at once. He placed his hand gently on Stetson's head, letting him know they had to make it fast. Then Carter flipped himself over, rolling his pants down. Stetson placed a giant finger on Carter's entrance and made a big spit for lubrication. The heat of the moment, coupled with the hurry of being caught, allowed Carter to relax enough so that Stetson could put his dick inside him. He could feel Stetson slide into him for a while, with Carter grabbing his hands from behind. Stetson gently kicked the nape of Carter's neck as he came. They just never had enough time.
The Verdict
I
“As you can see, ladies and gentleman of the jury,” Presley Watkins said. He had assigned himself as the lead investigator as well as the lead prosecutor. “The man sitting before you is the man who without a doubt killed Jaidon Marsh. Now, the question isn't whether Jaidon was a bad guy, as the defense so clearly and repeatedly points out. The question is whether he was murdered. Look at the size of this average man, with a criminal history, probably with the intentions of a mad man that night, and ask yourself if you believe was innocent. He was not innocent. Don't kid yourself. He was, forgive me, A PIECE OF SHIT.
“But he was murdered. The courts exist as an impartial system. No citizen has the right to take justice into his own hands. If we all did that, we would be no better than those we hate, now would we? We could never privilege ourselves with the declaration of balanced, civilized human beings. That makes us hypocrites.
“Whatever motivations Jaidon had that night are irrelevant to his demise. This man Stetson Carthswaite committed a crime, through and through. I trust you'll show him the same mercy Stetson himself showed Jaidon. No two wrongs equal a right. I rest my case.”
Missing from the jury conspicuously was the Latino mechanic, Edgar Rodriguez. Presley Watkins made sure he would pose no threat to justice served. In fact, Watkins had a hand in picking new jury members, who he was positive would provide the Stetson deserved.
Later that day, as Carter sat in the pew, imprisoned by the social decorum, he stared across the room at Stetson, quiet, stern, and stoic, sitting stone-faced in the crowded courtroom. Throughout the proceedings, several voices from the town verbally echoed the sentiment Carter could feel physically.
_Murderer!_
_Liar!_
_Queer!_
None of this Carter could fight, but he held in his hand the single talisman to keep the hateful townspeople and their scornful judgments at bay, a single piece of incriminating evidence on Jamie Simmons. Yes, Carter thought, he would toss his own brother to the wolves for what he did, if it meant Carter could make right what had gone wrong.
“The prosecution calls to the stand, Carter S. Simmons!”
With a big gulp, Carter stood up and walked to his moment of truth. When the defense lawyer approached Carter, his smile indicated the secret they both shared about the tape.
“Mr. Simmons, you mentioned you have some evidence you'd like to show the jury. A confession of sorts?”
“Yes.”
“Who's confessing?”
“My brother Jamie.”
“What's he confessing?”
“Stetson is innocent. He was just trying to save me. He admits he was working with Jaidon to get us both killed.”
The judge looked up from his notepad. “Bring forth this evidence immediately. Let it be known it's the responsibility of the defense to formally submit evidence to the jury in advance of court proceedings.”
Presley Watkins puffed out his chest and stood. It was his turn to give Carter the beating. The prosecution quizzed him left and right about what happened that night at the dinosaur dig. Watkins cunningly glossed over all the communication they had been in with Stetson in the hours prior to the murder.
“Mr. Simmons, what's your relationship with Mr. Carthswaite?”
“I'm not sure what you mean.”
“Are you 'friends?' How did you come to know each other? And why was Mr. Carthswaite so intent on saving you upon your disappearance?”
“We're friends. That's all.”
“Well the funny thing about that, Mr. Simmons, is that I too have videographic evidence that you and Stetson are more than friends. The footage was provided to me by the local prison administration, where Mr. Carthswaite is being held.” He pulled out a small television and popped in a VHS of their sexual relations the day prior. Blood rushed to Carter's face and tears welled up in his eyes. The cat was out of the bag, after all, and it was as horrible as he thought it would be.
The audience gasped in disgust and confusion. “Jury members: don't you think this is a conflict of interest?”
“Well--” Carter opened his mouth, his forehead hot with rage. “I--I have a tape myself.”
“Did your brother know you were recording him?”
“No he didn't.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, but unfortunately that isn't evidence admissible in court, sir.”
“That's--bullshit. It's proof he was in on it!” Carter screamed and pointed across the room at his brother, who sat with death-like stare, yet saying nothing.
The court adjourned early for the turn of events, where the judge decided whether he would allow the tape. Carter made the silly mistake of leaving the tape in a brown envelope on a pew outside the restroom, in an effort to see Stetson on the break, as he was taken out of the courtroom. As soon as he had left the room, he realized his mistake and came back promptly, to find the envelope sitting where he remembered it. The judge decided he would allow the jury to hear the tape. Presley Watkins took it upon himself to approach the bench and take the tape from the judge's hands. Then he walked over deliberately to the tape player, hitting PLAY.
There was silence for several moments, and Carter's heartbeat sped up. Something was wrong. The audience heard crackling on the tape and then static and then:
“They say we're young and we don't know.”
Tears welled up in Carter's eyes.
“We won't find out until we grow,” the tape continued. Carter looked over at his brother, who smiled and shot evil looks over at him.
“Well I don't know if all that's true
'Cause you got me, and baby I got you--
Babe
I got you babe
I got you babe--”
The judge frowned and looked at Carter like he was kid who just interrupted something terribly important with inane shenanigans. “Mr. Simmons, I want to thank you for wasting our time. Congratulations that I'm in a good mood today, because otherwise you'd be held in contempt of court. Now get off my bench. You've wasted our time.” Carter tried to say something but he couldn't summon the energy, so he just slid off the bench and re-entered the audience.
Carter looked across the room at his brother, who smiled the way he always did when he played Carter for a fool. The court dismissed the tape as evidence and dismissed Carter as a fool in love with a cowboy. Carter was crestfallen in the hours leading up to the verdict.
The jury filed into the courtroom, the entire room quiet with a death-like stillness. A black lady, whose face was permanently fixed in an angry expression, opened a type letter next to a microphone.
“We the jury find the defendant Stetson Carthswaite guilty of first degree murder. We sentence him to death by electric chair.” The guards took Stetson in cuffs back to prison. The courtroom cheered so loudly that the walls shook, and as intense as the cheering was, Carter sat motionless in the chair by himself, staring out through the wall of the court, into the beyond, where all his hope drained away.