A week after the sentencing, Parks learned his own fate: A 30-day suspension without pay for conduct unbecoming. By then, the press had moved on to other stories, and “the case of the cop who fell in love with the married victim” was largely forgotten. Officer Parks’ suspension merited just a small item on Page 2C of the Marysville Daily Record, while only one of the three TV news stations in town even bothered covering it, and that was merely an eight-second blurb.
Parks’ decision to face the media head-on had been a wise one, and Rachel thought it showed real leadership. It reminded her of the colonel, who always stressed to his daughter that she should face challenges rather than retreat from them. The witnesses in the Whittaker trial didn’t run, so reporters had nobody to chase. By confronting the bloodthirsty muckrakers in the parking lot outside the courthouse, Parks, Rachel and Ken had neutralized the controversy and turned it into a one-day story. They’d stood up straight and answered all questions, thus releasing the pressure-valve. With nobody hiding anything, and no real “scandal” other than a police officer admitting that he’d fallen in love with a married woman, and the husband saying they were trying to work it all out, the story faded relatively quickly.
During his hiatus from active duty, Parks pretty much lived with the Coolidges. Ken didn’t get many opportunities to sleep in his own bed, and he resented the constant outside presence in his home. Making it worse, the idle cop was starting to belittle his defeated rival at every turn while acting like he was merely joking, which made Ken seem like the bad guy if he tried to stop the needling. Rachel loved it, and would roll around laughing at her boyfriend’s pranks and put-downs, chiding her husband if he attempted to retaliate in any way.
Ken also suspected that Parks and Rachel had been up to something. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but since the trial, he’d detected a change in the three-way dynamic, as if his wife and her lover were in on some private joke, or making plans he wasn’t privy to. Ken felt a constant knot in his stomach, as if he sensed a hidden iceberg lurking around the corner.
Everything came to a head one Saturday night about halfway through the suspension. Rachel and Parks were cuddling on the couch watching TV after they’d both sucked down a considerable amount of alcohol, when the cop’s stomach started to grumble.
Parks peered across the room at Ken, who sat slumped in the easy chair. “Hey, Kenny, since they taught you in Feminist Studies that men should do women’s work, how about fixing me a sandwich?”
Rachel slapped his thigh. “You’re so crazy! Stop it!”
“What? I’m just doing my part to defeat the patriarchy. Men can make sandwiches, too. Huh, Kenny?”
Ken rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man.”
After a few seconds ticked by, Parks smacked his lips twice. “You know, Ken, I actually wasn’t joking about you making me a sandwich. I mean, if you don’t mind, that is. I’m kinda settled in here.”
Ken blinked. “What? Are you fucking serious?”
“Whoa, dude. I mean, if it’s that big of a deal, don’t worry about it.” Parks shrugged. “Sorry, man, didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Offend him?” Rachel scowled at her husband. “Bullshit. Ken, go make him a damn sandwich, and stop acting like an idiot.”
“Rachel?”
“Rachel what? Are you really gonna be a damn baby because someone asked you to make a sandwich? Someone who probably saved both our lives, by the way?”
Parks laughed. “Yeah, that’s right, you both owe me. I was watching this show the other day about how in the old days if you saved someone’s life they had to be your slave forever. So, guess what, Kenny?” He snapped his fingers. “You gotta be my slave. Now, go make me a sandwich, slave.”
The drunken Rachel giggled, prompting her boyfriend to playfully grab her wrist. “I don’t know what you’re laughing about, girly — I saved your life, too, so I got two slaves now.”
She struggled to free herself but Parks wouldn’t let go.
“Say, ‘yes, Master,'” he goaded.
“Fuck you, asshole!” Rachel tried harder to pull away from her massive lover, to no avail.
“Say, ‘yes, Master.'”
She smirked. “Yes, Asshole.”
Parks started tickling her and she caved immediately. “Okay, okay, stop, yes, Master, yes, Master, stop!”
The cop sat back with a smug expression. Rachel slapped his shoulder.
“Damn it, Trent, you left a mark on my arm.” She showed him the tiny abrasion. He took her forearm and examined it.
“Aw.” Parks pouted at Ken. “Here, Kenny, come kiss her boo-boo.”
Ken snorted.
Parks looked Ken in the eye, still presenting Rachel’s arm. “Seriously, come kiss it.”
Rachel grinned. “Come on, Ken.” She puckered. “Make boo-boo better.”
“Oh, all right, jeez.” Ken sighed, tramped across the room and pecked his intoxicated wife’s forearm before stomping back to his chair.
As soon as Ken’s ass hit the seat, Parks said: “So … were you gonna make me that sandwich, Kenny?”
Ken rose in a huff. “All right, all right. What kind do you want?”
Parks pursed his lips. “I’ll take some of that pastrami you got in there. On rye bread. Mustard.”
Ken exhaled. “Um, there’s only one piece left. I was planning to have it for lunch tomorrow.”
“OMG, are you kidding me?” Rachel cocked her head. “That’s fucking rude, Ken. Go make him a damned pastrami sandwich, already.”
Throwing up his hands, Ken marched off to the kitchen to feed the man who was fucking his wife.
“Put a pickle on there too, Kenny, would ya?” Parks called after him.
With his ears burning, Ken fixed the sandwich, plodded into the living room and dropped it on the coffee table.
Parks untangled himself from Rachel’s embrace, sat up on the couch and took a huge bite. “Mm,” he said with his mouth full. “Those Feminist Studies classes really paid off, Kenny. Who says a man’s place can’t be in the kitchen?”
Ken scoffed. “Yeah, whatever, that’s just fucking stupid. Enough already with all the feminine crap, okay?”
Rachel frowned. “Oh, don’t even try it, Ken. You know you’re in touch with your feminine side. Why keep lying to everyone? Be yourself, why don’t you?”
Ken’s jaw dropped. “Wha … what?”
“You know what I’m talking about.” Rachel stared a hole through her husband’s eyeballs.
Ken blinked. “Wha … wha … honey??? What the fuck?”
Parks took another bite of his pastrami sandwich and chewed with a grin, enjoying the show.
“We shouldn’t keep secrets, Ken.” Rachel smiled at her husband. “We should tell him.”
“Honey, please, why are you doing this? Please, I’m begging you.”
“Oh, Jeez, Ken, it’s not that big of a deal.” Rachel turned to her lover. “He likes wearing women’s clothes. Big whoop.”
Ken bolted into the guest bedroom in tears. He sat on the bed sobbing until he heard someone open the door. Thinking Rachel had come to console him, he was surprised to see Parks enter the room. The despondent husband stood up and backed into a corner.
With a smile, Ken sat on the bed and patted the mattress. “Come here, Ken. Sit down.”
Ken froze. “What?”
“I’m not gonna bite you, man, come sit down.”
Ken inched across the room and found a spot on the opposite side of the bed.
“Listen, Ken, I know I’m always fucking with you, but I’m just kidding around, busting your chops. Guy shit. But, honestly, Ken, this is no big deal.” Parks scooted closer. “Seriously, dude, you’re making this a lot worse than it needs to be.”
“Well, what the fuck.” Ken wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “That’s my private fucking business, man. She didn’t have to do that. It’s fucked up.”
Parks rested his hand on Ken’s shoulder. “I know. She’s pretty drunk. She doesn’t mean any harm. You know she loves you, right? She’s trying to do this the right way.”
Ken scoffed. “Yeah? Well, if she loves me, she has a funny fucking way of showing it.”
“She just wants you to be happy. Look at me.” Parks pinched Ken’s chin and turned his head until they made eye contact. “You hear me? All she wants is for you to be happy, Ken, and she knows you’re not happy with how things are now. She knows you have this other side, this secret thing you keep from her, and she’s trying to figure out how to make it all work together. Both of us are.”
Ken’s eyes narrowed. “Have you guys been talking about me?”
“Well, yeah, dumbass, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. She talks about you all the time. She’s worried about you.”
“No …” Ken looked at his hands. “I mean has she been talking about my … you know … telling you my private business? Before tonight?”
Parks sighed. “Ken, we tell each other everything. I confessed my secret to her, too.”
Ken’s head popped up. “What’s your secret?”
The cop’s baby blues pierced Ken’s soul. “Well, I never thought of myself as bisexual … but when Rachel told me about your crossdressing, I really started thinking about the idea of having you in the bedroom with us … you know, as a slave. Dressed like a girl, though. Ever since she told me about you … well, it’s weird because that never turned me on before. I wasn’t sure how Rachel was gonna take it, but I finally went ahead and told her. She said she likes the idea, too, because it would bring you into our relationship, and you wouldn’t feel left out all the time. She’s just been waiting for the right way to bring it up. I guess she figured tonight was the time.”
“Ah … buh … uh … waaaaa …” Ken trembled from head to toe and couldn’t breathe, let alone formulate words. He released a squirt of urine that left a small, round spot on his fly.
“We all need to be who we are, Ken.” Parks rested his hand on the smaller man’s knee. He gave it a quick squeeze and stood up. “We can talk more about this in the morning. Good night.”
Ken lay in bed staring at the ceiling all night, too stunned to move.
END OF BOOK ONE
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