Blaine finally learns the truth.

Chapter 11

BLAINE POV

The Andersons are an old money clan. My great-great-Grandfather made our family's money the old-fashioned way: he stole, cheated and used others. Somewhere along the way, our family turned over a new leaf and decided to go straight. So, now, the Anderson name is synonymous with charity and upstanding citizenship. But today, I was going to reach back to my roots. I was going to break into and enter a home. The home of one David Karofsky.

I had no idea what I was looking for. I just knew that Karofsky might be the key to what was wrong with Kurt. For some reason, Mercedes' story of how Karofsky had suddenly left Kurt alone bothered me. The sick grin and belly laugh in the hall that day, still haunted me. Kurt's nightmare and cries of, "no Dave, please, don't hit me," sickened me. If nothing else, I could clear Karofsky as the cause of Kurt's behavior and move on.

I woke up Monday morning and left as if I were going to school. About halfway between Westerville and Lima, I pulled off at a gas station and changed into black jeans and a black shirt. Mercedes had provided me with Karofsky's address. She didn't ask why I wanted it and I didn't tell her.

As I approached his street, it dawned on me that a red BMW would probably stand out so, I parked a few streets over and started towards his house on foot. As I walked down the street, it dawned on me that I didn't really have a good plan. First, I didn't know if the house was empty. I was assuming everyone would be at work or school but for all I knew, Mrs. Karofsky was a stay-at-home mom. Second, I wasn't even sure how I was going to get into the house. I had brought a backpack full of tools but, I didn't really know what to do with them. This whole thing was starting to feel ridiculous.

But, I had to do this. For Kurt. Hell, I didn't know what else to do. I had to do something and, at least for today, this was the plan.

When I arrived at the house, I quickly ran around to the side and prayed that no one saw me. I peeked into a kitchen window. The house looked and sounded empty. I went around to the backyard. There was a big oak tree that looked impossible to climb. All the windows appeared closed and locked. What the hell had I been thinking when I came up with this idea?

My only hope to get inside seemed to rest with a wooden door at the bottom of some stairs. I figured it probably led to the basement. Assuming the door at the top of the basement stairs wasn't locked, I should be able to get into the rest of the house. I went down the stairs and looked at the door. I tried turning the knob. Of course, it was locked. I looked at the lock. It appeared old and rather rusted. This would make it either easier or harder to pick. I had googled, "how to pick a lock" and actually found a video on YouTube that taught you how to do it, step-by-step. It took me a while but finally, to my surprise, the process worked. I turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

I stood still for a few minutes, listening. Apparently, no one was home. I looked around. I was in someone's bedroom. There was an incredible flat screen TV on the wall across from a king-sized bed. Under the TV were shelves of movies and CDs. The room smelled musky and had a strange, faint odor. This had to be a guy's room. Karofsky's? I moved over to the closet. Sure enough, there were a few McKinley football jerseys hanging there. Wow. I had hit pay dirt. I was in the right place.

As I looked around the room, I realized once again that I had no idea what I was looking for. Karofsky didn't have a lot of stuff. A few books were on a shelf, old board games, a few trophies from elementary and junior high sports. I opened the nightstand and rummaged around. Yuck. There was a tube of lubricant, some condoms and at the bottom of the drawer, a sheet of paper. I pulled it out. It was Kurt's class schedule. Why did Karofsky have a copy of Kurt's class schedule? My heart started racing but I forced myself to calm down and not jump to conclusions. This really didn't mean much. Who knows when he downloaded this schedule? I didn't know what to make of this so, I folded it up and put it in my pocket.

I kept looking around the room, waiting for something to jump out at me. Nothing did. Boy, was I stupid. What did I think I would find? I was about to leave when I noticed a camera in the corner of the room. It was focused on the bed. Really? Karofsky making sex tapes? I actually laughed out loud. I grabbed the remote off of the nightstand and turned on the TV. I turned on the DVD player and hit play.

XXXXXXXX

I was sitting in my car, breathless and feeling feverish. I started the engine and drove about half a mile down the street before I had to pull over and jump out. I vomited twice by a tree. I climbed back into my car and sat there with the windows down.

Oh, God.

Oh, Kurt.

Kurt.

Kurt.

Kurt.

Why didn't you tell me? Why? Why? Why? How could you keep this from me? Why would you keep this from me? Oh, God. It all clicked into place. Some how, Karofsky had gotten Kurt to his house. He must have grabbed him or something because, Kurt would have never gone there willingly. Karofsky was the one who sent me the text that Friday about Carol's dad. Oh, Kurt. My dear, sweet, wonderful Kurt. Why the hell didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell someone? Anyone? But, I knew why. I had watched the entire recording. I had heard the poison Karofsky had spewed into Kurt's broken and weakened body and mind.

"You see how you swallowed for me Kurt? You couldn't have done that if you didn't want to. If you didn't want this, your body would have rejected it. It would have come right back up your throat and out of your cock sucking mouth. But, it didn't, did it Kurt? Your stomach accepted it. Your body accepted it. And, the body doesn't lie Kurt. Only our mind lies and tells us one thing but our body, our true nature, it always tells the truth. You just have to make up your mind to accept and follow."

"I hope you tell Blaine, Kurt. You should tell him about us. About how much you enjoyed sucking my cock and how you are no longer a virgin. Yeah, we punched that v-card, didn't we Kurt? We punched it a bunch of times. And, trust me, we will punch it some more. I really hope you tell him because, once you do, he will disappear. He won't want you anymore. You're a used faggot now and Blaine's preppy, snobby ass does not shop at second-hand stores. You should tell him as soon as you get home so he can stop bothering you and then you and I will have more time to spend together. Because, we are going to spend lots of time together Kurt. And I do mean, lots because you belong to me now and I won't let you forget it. And if Blaine get's in the way...I'll just have to kill him."

My entire body was filled with physical pain and anguish. I couldn't stop seeing the images in my mind. No wonder Kurt had been a zombie for the past week. How could he function after what he had experienced? I wasn't even sure I was going to be able to drive home.

I sat in my car for another 20 minutes until I was sure I could drive without needing to stop again. When I arrived at home, I went straight to my room and pulled out an old book. As a kid, I had carved the center out, creating the illusion of a regular book but, it actually had a small niche inside where you could store things. I put the disc inside and then placed the book underneath my old baseball equipment, way back in my closet. I then sent Kurt one long text message:

I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you

I knew Kurt would have no idea what brought on my sudden and enthusiastic declaration of love but, I felt the need to send it. To somehow let him know that I really did love him and that nothing would change that, including what he had experienced at the hands of Karofsky.

I took a shower and laid down on my bed and cried. I cried and cried and cried. I cried for the physical and mental pain Kurt had endured and was still enduring. I cried because he felt he couldn't tell me. I cried over what Kurt had lost and, in a selfish way, what I had lost as well. I had hoped we would be each others first. That experience had been stolen away and crushed in the worst possible way.

Once I was done shedding every single tear in my system. A new feeling took over. I was no longer sad, heartbroken and in despair.

Now, I was enraged.

David Allen Karofsky had to die.

Watch out Karofsky. Blaine Anderson is coming after you...with a vengeance.