Chapter three is finally here. Sorry it took so long. I got stuck in a few places. Hopefully, it's worth the wait. And hpefully, I caught all my mistakes.

Chapter Three

This had to be the worst case I had ever been on. It wasn't just because of the assault. There was the mono. And now I found myself lying out in the middle of the lacrosse field flat on my back, staring up at the sky, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors circling in front of my face.

I had no idea what had happened.

All I knew was that I had had the ball, there was no one near me besides the opposing goalie, and I was ready to take a shot. I don't remember anything after that. According to Doug and Dr. Kilkenny, I had collapsed just before I took the shot. Evidently, I had blacked-out. Dr. Kilkenny wasn't sure what had caused it and—needless to say—I had to sit out the rest of the game.

We ended up winning the game, but my chances of seeing the semis or the championship were next to nil. Dr. Kilkenny wanted to find out what had caused my blackout, whether it was related to the mono or was something else entirely. I honestly didn't care one way or the other. I wanted out of that school. There was nine days left. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it through.

"You plannin' on movin' any time soon?" Doug said to me as I lay on my bed and he sat on his, watching me.

"I have nothing to do till dinner. So I'm going to do nothing."

"Well, aren't you just Dr. Fun Times."

I groaned. "We've been here too long."

"You say that about ev'ry case."

"Because it's true about ev'ry case."

"I'd say it's nice to see you gettin' back to normal, but I don't think that 's possible for you."

"Oh, shut up."

"Considering you were never normal in the first place."

"Har-har."

There's an unbelievably obscure punctuation rule that no normal people know or follow that states that a semicolon should be placed before a conjunction if a comma appears elsewhere in the sentence. The fact that I both know and follow this rule once and for all settles the question of my normalcy. I know most people who read this will see me apply this rule and think I've made an error. However, I'm sure a few die-hard grammarians will get a hold of this and shed tears of joy that someone has used the semicolon correctly.

After Doug reads this bit, I'll never hear the end of it. This is only going to add fuel to the "Tease Tommy" fire.

Even though I had blacked-out the previous day, I was feeling pretty good. And I was pretty sure that not being around the 'devotees of Tommy McQuaid' may have played a small part in said happiness.

Of course, I had to kill my own joy by allowing the thought of what they could do to me in the days left. Coleman hadn't had his turn yet.

"Tommy…. Tom…."

I don't try to zone-out. It just happens. "Huh?"

"Ya go somewhere there, bro?"

Before I give you my reply, let me just say that I would make a great orator.

"Yeah, sure…. I don't know…."

Doug said to me, sarcastically, of course, "You'd make a great orator."

See. He agrees.

Silence fell between us as Doug leaned back and began to read. I started thinking about the past few weeks and everything that had happened. I felt a tear trickle down my left cheek; the side away from Doug. Not that he would have noticed with his nose buried in his book.

"Can I ask you something Doug?" Maybe I could tell him without actually telling him.

"Shoot."

"If a really good friend of yours—a guy—told you that he was being sexually assaulted, would you believe him?"

"Why?" He sat up quickly, setting his book down. "Did somebody do somethin' to you?"

"No," I said, trying not to sound anxious. "I'm fine. Just would you believe him?"

He sat on the edge of his bed, concern in his eyes. "Of course, I would." He got off his bed and knelt down next to mine, saying softly, "Tom…. Did something happen to you?"

Okay, Thomas, time to see how good your fibbing skills are.

Looking at him I said flatly, "No. I was just curious."

I know he didn't believe me, but he didn't say anything further and sat back down on his bed.

I turned onto my stomach and stared at the wall.

"Tommy…."

"Is it time for dinner, yet?"

"What happened to you? Did Harrison do somethin' to you?"

Asking my question opened up a can of worms. Not that that particular situation wasn't already unpleasant. Lying now was going to be even more difficult.

I shut my eyes tight.

"Tom…."

I felt his hand on my back. When I didn't respond, he spoke again.

"Damn it. He did do somethin' to ya."

I rolled onto my side, still facing the wall, shutting my eyes tighter to prevent the tears welling up in my eyes from falling. I laid there in silence, unable to speak.

"Tommy…."

His voice was soft and gentle, like it always was when he was concerned. This was prime opportunity to tell him. But I just couldn't bring myself to say anything. Maybe he simply thought that Harrison was beating me. He did witness the way Harrison ran practice, even though it was a toned down version of the way he normally ran me. Or maybe Doug did think it was something more.

"Hey, we'll be outta here next Thursday." He paused. "I wish you would talk to me."

I was wishing I could.

The next few days were spent investigating, finally narrowing down our suspects. We knew that two faculty members were involved in the arms dealing for sure, possibly one more. Chemistry professor Mark Bennett was our prime suspect. One of the math professors, Andrew Claypoole, was also on our list. When I talked to one of my team mates on Thursday, he implicated another faculty member. I asked him about any students he thought could be involved. He shrugged and said that if there were any involved they were likely post-grads. They could leave campus a lot easier, even more so than the teachers. Doug would have to deal with the post-grads.

I desperately wanted Harrison and Nick to be implicated; but with the last day of school coming up fast, I knew that wasn't going to happen. Besides, why would two men who are sexually aroused by teenage boys and act on their perverted impulses, want to compromise those desires by getting involved with illegal arms dealing.

Every time I thought about them a chill would run down my spine. But I would be out of that school in less than a week and I would never see them again. So I hoped.

I left the post-grads to Doug. Their involvement was more probable than that of the current student body. Those I knew didn't appear to have any knowledge of an illegal arms ring. I was running short on people to talk to. With little to focus on, my fear of Harrison, Nick, and even Coleman, began to overwhelm me. I couldn't help thinking about what they had planned for me over these last few days of school. School…. Even with all this investigating, through all this police work me and Dougie were doing, I still felt like nothing more than a teenage boy going through hell at a school he didn't want to be at. This must be how Tommy McQuaid, were he real, felt. How difficult would it be for Tommy to tell his older brother what was happening to him?

As I sat on the bench outside of the basketball courts that final Sunday afternoon waiting for Doug, a few students that I didn't know rushed past me, nearly knocking me off the bench.

Seriously?

I was fairly certain they did it on purpose. This kind of thing happened to me on a daily basis when I was actually in high school. As annoying as it was, I would much rather deal with that than be sexually assaulted by members of the faculty. Or by anyone.

I was constantly on guard, waiting for Nick, Harrison or Coleman to show up. But they never did. That only worsened my anxiety.

I moved off the bench and onto the ground and began to pick at the grass, watching some of the students play basketball. My sunlight suddenly disappeared as I picked a few blades. I didn't look up, afraid of who might be standing behind me. Ignoring the new presence, I continued to pluck the grass in front of me.

"Well, Mr. McQuaid." A chill ran down my spine at the sound of his voice. Coleman. The only one of the Pervy Trio that hadn't touched me. Yet. "Are you ready for your final?"

If he was going to do anything, it wouldn't be today. However, he still had four days to accomplish whatever his pedophiliac mind could come up with.

"Always," I replied, working on making a bare patch.

"That's good to hear."

Yes, it is. Now go away and leave me alone, you freak.

"McQuaid."

Great. Here comes sicko number two. Don't you have a championship to go celebrate?

Oh, by the way, we did win the lacrosse state championship. I didn't play, but I was on the bench for the game and I did celebrate with the team at our championship party. As soon as it was over, however, I put as much distance between myself and Harrison as I could. And now, the following afternoon, he was breathing down my neck. Figuratively, thankfully.

"Yeah…" I said in a slow, slightly obnoxious tone. You know, like a teenager. There were some moments that I did enjoy.

"You're having a team photo taken tomorrow afternoon out on the field."

'You' meant 'just the team.' No coaches, no trainers. Just the players. The photo was for the team as a memento of the season. This particular season would feature us wearing our championship ball caps, and include our championship banner and trophy. That was a memento I didn't mind having; a memento I still have. I often wonder where all those guys are now. Maybe I'll see some of them again one day.

"I'll be there."

I continued to pluck the blades of grass and tie the longer ones in knots, waiting for the third member of the unholy trinity to make his appearance. But Nick never showed. And I was quite relieved when the other two left.

Why couldn't they just have forgotten that I ever existed?

I got up off the ground and sat back down on the bench, lengthwise, pulling my knees up to my chest. I told Doug I would wait for him there, but I preferred to be in our dorm. And while my home was the place I most wanted to be, I would soon find out that my dorm with Doug was the safest place I could be.

"Hey, Tommy," Doug shouted as he ran up to me, making me jump. "Move yer legs." Why he tells me to do something while he does it himself, I still haven't figured out. Sitting down next to me he continued in a whisper, "I do believe we got our man. Well, men."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Come on."

He yanked me off the bench and nearly dragged me back to our dorm. "I can walk, Doug."

"Yeah, I know. But we'll get there faster if I drag you."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Sure it does."

"To you, yes. But to the rest of us…."

"Hey, look. We're here."

He pushed me into the room, closing the door; and handed me a piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"We're makin' a buy on Thursday."

"Good thing your graduation was back on Friday." I grinned. "Otherwise, it would've been ruined."

"Oh, yer funny."

I looked back at the paper. "So we have two post-grads and two faculty members. Who are we meeting with?"

"Gelen and Poletti." The two post-grads.

"Do you know who's runnin' this whole operation?"

He grinned. "We'll find out on Thursday. "Oh, and uh, good luck on yer finals."

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't ya love high school," he said, grinning like the Cheshire cat and hugging me from the side. He had to be hopped up on sugar or caffeine.

"I hated high school the first time and I really hate it now." He gave me a kiss on my forehead. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm just glad we're almost outta here."

"Not as much as I am."

Monday and Tuesday rolled by quickly and fairly smoothly for finals. I couldn't believe I was taking those stupid things. At least, the Dukes of Debauchery left me alone. But I still had two days before I was out of there and that was plenty of time for them to do something. I could flash my badge, but I had a horrible feeling that that would only make things worse.

On Wednesday, me and Doug spent the day together not doing much of anything. It turned out to be a decent day. As good as the day was going, a part of me still feared tomorrow. I had to get my stuff from the locker room. If some of that stuff hadn't actually have been mine, I would've left it. And there was no way I was going to ask Doug to get it for me; not that he would have had a problem with it if I had. But I preferred to let my pride win out.

"You look a little on edge, pal," Doug said as we sat on the baseball field bleachers. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, halfway in my own world.

He patted me on the shoulder. "Does this have anything to do with Harrison?"

"No." Liar.

"Hey…we'll be outta here tomorrow."

Yeah…just enough time. Why can't you just tell him, you idiot. It's not that hard. Just tell him.

I became so lost in my thoughts I didn't realize Doug had been calling my name.

"Tommy…."

"Huh?"

"You okay? You spaced out there."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He grimaced at me.

I stared at him. "What?"

"I know there's something wrong, Tom. I really wish you'd talk to me."

Looking out over the field, I sighed. I desperately wanted to tell him. Every time I gathered up enough guts, I would say one thing in my head and something else entirely would come out of my mouth.

"There's nothing to talk about."

And there it is.

"Come on," he said, defeat in his voice. "It's almost time for dinner."

That night as I lay in bed, I was completely gripped by terror. Something was going to happen. They would have their way with me tomorrow. It was only one day. But all it takes is one. Sleep didn't come easily for me that night. Doug's snoring wasn't helping. I lay on my side, staring at the wall. My mind wouldn't rest. All I could think of was them and what they might be planning to do to me. Not even the possibility of finally ending our case could help me sleep. I'd never felt so helpless.

I fell asleep some time after one o' clock. However long I was asleep, it wasn't long enough. Morning came all too soon. Doug was shaking me just before eight. Why couldn't the man just let me sleep in?

"Go away," I grumbled, trying to swat him away.

"Come on, Tommy-boy. We gotta get an early start. Up and at 'em."

I swatted at him again.

"Thomas…." He yanked the covers off of me. "It's time to get up. Do you always sleep in the fetal position?"

"No…" I whined. "Just let me sleep in. A couple more hours…." I continued to whine.

So Doug graciously dumped me out of bed and onto the floor.

I looked up at him, scowling. He was grinning.

"I hate you."

"Come on, Tommy. We got work to do."

"Just kill me now," I grumbled under my breath. I was not looking forward to the day.

I pulled myself up off the floor and back onto my bed, lied down and closed my eyes.

Now Doug was getting irritated with me. "Tom, come on. We need to get moving. I don't wanna miss breakfast. I get very irritable when I miss breakfast."

"Breakfast isn't till nine," I mumbled into my pillow.

"Breakfast is at eight today. We're outta here at two. And we still have business to take care of. Besides that, don't you have something you need to do?"

"Yes."

"Get up and get dressed."

Doug doesn't get pissed at me unless I provoke him. And I was doing just that. I wasn't doing it on purpose; I honestly didn't want to get up. Facing the day was not on my 'to do' list.

"Thomas!"

"Alright! I'm getting up."

"Man, what is wrong with you today? I thought you'd be happy to be getting outta here today."

"I am. I just wanted to sleep in."

He shook his head at me. "Get dressed."

We exhibited typical McQuaid brothers' behavior as we headed to the dining hall. I'm pretty sure that most of those that saw us believed we both needed to be exorcised. As a matter-of-fact, if I remember correctly, we were actually told that.

Until I met Doug, I had never seen anyone eat so much in one sitting.

"Yer really gonna eat all that?" I said, staring at his tray.

"Gotta be well-prepared for the day."

"Uh-huh…."

"What the heck are you eatin'? There's nothin' there."

"Three chocolate chip pancakes, hashbrowns and some bacon is nothin'?"

"You really need to eat more, Tommy-boy."

I grimaced. "Sure I do." I took a bite of my pancakes. "You need to eat less."

"I only eat less when I'm sick."

There were far too many comments I could make, so I kept my mouth shut and ate my breakfast.

"What…no comment?" Doug said with a mouth full of food.

A wry grin crossed my lips. "Too many to choose from."

"Yeah, yeah." He threw a piece of biscuit at me. "You gonna do your thing before our meeting?"

"Yeah. The sooner the better." Maybe I could be in and out of there before my fan club made their appearance. My luck, they were already waiting for me.

Doug snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Tommy. Wake up, bro."

"Uh…." I shook my head. "Sorry."

"You've been spacin' out a lot lately."

"Yeah, I know." I stood up. "I'd better go get my stuff." I took one last bite of my hashbrowns. "Where do you wanna meet?"

"I'll meet you at the ball field."

"See ya in a few."

In a few, yes. But a few what?

I was making my way to the gym, slowly, when I realized something that was critical to my well-being. Harrison had to be there. He was in charge of locking up the locker room I used. And I was certain I was the last one that needed to get all of his crap out of his locker.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I walked in. Keeping my eyes in front, I made a beeline for my locker. Dropping my gym bag onto the bench, I quickly shoved everything that was in the locker into my bag. My heart was pounding. The slightest sound made me flinch. I took a deep breath, zipped up my bag; and flung it over my shoulder.

And then I turned around.

You know the old colloquialism about something making your heart stop? Or someone looking at you like a deer in headlights? I was a perfect example of both. I don't know how long they had been standing behind me. I had been so focused on getting out of there as fast as I could, I hadn't noticed them approach.

"What's yer hurry, son?"

That stupid lump was back in my throat. It was a lot harder to swallow this time. "I'm meeting my brother, Coach."

Harrison put his hand on my shoulder. A shiver ran down my spine. "I really should get going."

"I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind waiting a little while." I heard Coleman's voice from behind me. "This won't take long."

Trying to hide my fear from them was futile. But I tried to do so, anyway.

Nick was leaning against the lockers opposite me. A sickening smile was plastered on his face.

Much of what happened in the locker room that morning is a blur; even now. I'm sure I blacked-out at some point.

It was a repeat performance from Harrison and Nick. But I didn't expect what I got from Coleman. The other two held me down flat on my back on the bench. While I either wasn't sure what they were planning or simply didn't want to know, I became absolutely positive of Coleman's intentions when he removed his pants and boxers and Nick made sure I had an erection. When I began struggling violently, Nick sat on my legs. It didn't take much effort on Harrison's part to both hold me down at my chest and arms and cover my mouth to muffle my screams and sobs. When Coleman was done, Harrison decided he wanted one more shot at me.

While he had me pinned against the lockers he whispered into my ear, "Just because yer leavin' school, doesn't mean this is over."

And then they left.

I took my time getting out of the locker room. I had to regain my composure before I met with Doug. The physical pain I was in was dull and bearable; but emotionally, I was a train wreck. After pulling my pants up, I leaned against the lockers, tears streaming down my cheeks. A wave of nausea suddenly hit me and I made a beeline for the toilets, barely making it. (I'm sure the custodial staff would have loved to have made their way to the locker room only to find vomit all over the floor on the last day of school.) I desperately wanted to take a shower and burn the clothes I was wearing. After sitting beside the bowl for a few minutes, I slowly stood up and dragged my feet to a sink to wash my mouth out. I searched my pockets for some gum or breath mints I knew I had on me. I didn't need Doug smelling puke on my breath. When I finally had myself together, I grabbed my bag and headed to the ball field to meet Doug.

He was leaning against the bleachers. "What took ya so long?"

This is Doug's way of saying 'hello.'

"What can I say…. I'm popular. Ev'ryone wanted my autograph." A few wanted more than that.

"They wanna meet us at the tree line behind the dorms."

"My sarcasm was dying to make an appearance. "Because that wouldn't be conspicuous at all."

And then Doug hit me.

The buy was anti-climatic. When we made the call to Jenks I told him I didn't want anyone to know that me and Doug were cops. To my surprise, he didn't ask why. I contemplated telling him about Prowse. But the drugs he had were not illegal; nor did he do anything illegal. What Prowse did do was no more a crime than offering me aspirin. So I let it go. Besides, I didn't want to let the cat out of the bag. Jenko and Ioki showed up to make the bust. Which was less than anti-climatic. Me and Doug stood by and watched as if we had no idea what was going on. And we pulled it off rather well.

Then we went home. Via the McQuaid limo.

I sighed heavily as we finally pulled away from Goddard Hall. "Good riddance."

"Happy to be going home, Tommy-boy?"

"Couldn't be happier," I replied, though I'm sure I didn't look it.

I was elated to get out of that hellhole and away from them. But Harrison's words still rang clear in my head.

"Just because yer leavin' school, doesn't mean this is over."

Chills ran up and down my spine. What exactly did they know about me?