Kale's Paroxysm

an excerpt

Chapter One

The cell door clanged ominously as officer Bower closed it. He grunted and tugged on his belt as it worked overtime to keep his pants up.

"Don't forget my phone call," Kale said. He crossed his arms in an effort not to touch anything in the cell. He doubted anyone ever cleaned them, and he was bound to get a bacterial infection if he remained here for too long. Bower offered him a grunt in response.

Kale refrained from spewing a line of profanity. Upsetting the guard wasn't going to earn him any favors. At least the county jail only had one other occupant. Kale looked at his companion.

A slender man slumped against the wall and stared at his shoes. Kale wasn't able to get much of an impression of him, other than his clothes were from a local thrift store. Kale went to the opposite side of their cage and sat on the bench.

He moved to rub his face and paused at the sight of the blood still on his hands. The arresting officer had allowed him a quick wash in the bathroom but it hadn't been enough to get the blood from the creases in his skin. His knuckles were swelling, but nothing a few days rest and an ice pack wouldn't fix.

He stared at the blood--Martin's blood. And Wayne's. Mostly Wayne's blood. Red spots decorated his name brand shirt. The stains would never come out. He'd have to toss it.

"You kill someone?"

Kale looked over at the only person the words could belong to, his cellmate. He was looking at Kale, pale blue eyes boldly staring at his blood-splattered clothes.

"No," Kale said. At least, they'd all been alive when the ambulance had shown up.

"It's not your blood though, is it?"

He couldn't tell if his companion was curious or concerned. The man took a small step forward and the light exposed his features better. A silver loop earring glinted on his left lobe. His hair was so blond it was nearly white. Natural too, his eyebrows were the same frosty shade. His pale skin was perfect, not a single blemish. Kale guessed he was at least a decade younger than him, barely out of high school, although the perfect skin could be deceiving.

"No, it's not," Kale replied. He stared back, both of them gawking like schoolgirls with a crush. The man's complexion blushed red, an arousing look on him, and he looked away from Kale.

"Sorry, it's none of my business."

Kale kept staring. He wondered if his fellow jailbird turned that same color when he was in the throes of an orgasm. Now which of us is poking their nose where it doesn't belong? Kale forced his eyes away and clenched his fists, despite the ache of pain it caused to pulse in his knuckles.

"I put three people in the hospital," Kale said.

"Car accident?" The words seemed to topple out as if he couldn't stop them.

A car was damaged, Kale thought, the irony not lost on him. "No," Kale replied. "Damage was all me." He raised his arms to show off his swelling hands.

"Three against one? Doesn't sound like a fair fight."

"It wasn't," Kale agreed.

"And yet you won." The man shifted his weight and studied a spot on the ground.

Kale considered pointing out that he'd taken his first few hits with the assistance of a tire iron and that his victims weren't exactly fighters.

"Imagining you kicking three people's butts is kind of hot," the man said, keeping his eyes focused on anything but Kale.

"You weren't there," Kale said, the full implication behind the man's words initially escaping him.

"Wish I had been. I could have evened the odds, not that you needed it."

Their gazes met again and Kale saw the look of lust in his eyes. "It's really not smart to promote the fact you're gay when you're in jail," Kale said, slightly harsher than he intended.

"Yeah, but it's not likely I'll ever see the people I meet in jail outside of jail."

"It's still a good way to get your ass beat by a heterosexual homophobe who's heard one too many stories about getting butt raped in prison."

"Point taken," his companion said, shifting his gaze to the bars of their cell. His complexion turned bright red again, contrasting beautifully with his blond hair. Kale adjusted himself on the bench. He waited until the man's color had returned to normal before attempting to trigger it again.

"Lucky for you, I happen to be gay," Kale said. If possible, his cellmate turned even redder this time. Kale's pants were becoming uncomfortable at this point, but he couldn't help watching the man struggle to regain his composure.

"Lucky me," he said, his voice slightly cracking.

Kale said nothing more, deciding to give the kid a chance to recover, and lesson his own arousal.

"So do you, uh, want to take me out? You know, when we get released," the man asked. He sounded more sure of himself than Kale would have expected. And who picks up a date in county prison?

"I'm in a relationship," Kale said.

"Oh, right, yeah." He tapped his knuckles on his forehead. "I should have asked that first. Guess he's luckier than I am."

"I definitely wouldn't say that," Kale said. "Considering he was one of the asses I was kicking tonight."

The man's eyes widened and his pupils turned into black saucers, the blue nearly gone. This kid's bodily reactions were the most entertainment Kale had had in weeks. A half-smile broke his composure, and he decided to cut the kid some slack by opting to explain.

"I caught him cheating on me. I didn't react well."

"He was cheating on you? With two guys?" His expression was nearly cartoonish at this point, his jaw gaping.

"No," Kale said. He shook his head, feeling a kink starting to form. "One of them was a Good Samaritan trying to do the right thing and pull me off."

"Wow. Guess he got what he deserved. Well, your boyfriend that is. Shame about the guy who tried to help."

"No he--" Kale clenched his jaw and forced the words out. "We've been on a break for four weeks now. I wasn't handling it well. I'm still not."

He looked away from the guy, not wanting to see his expression any longer. He'd said too much, the story now too personal.

"He always comes back," Kale added, ignoring how lame the line sounded.


The silence that enveloped them wasn't nearly as comfortable as before. Keys jangled in the hall and Officer Bower appeared. He unlocked the cell.

"Time to make your call, Kale," Officer Bower said. Kale jumped up, a few joints popping as he did. He followed Bower down the hall to the pay phone reserved for inmates.

He called collect to his secretary. It was late, he wasn't even sure the exact time, but she always answered. She accepted the call, no hint of judgment in her voice. This wasn't the first time her boss had called her from county jail.

"Charlotte," Kale said. "I need you to call the other partners at the firm and have them contact the courts to get my bail arranged."

"What happened?"

"Three assaults. They went to the emergency room, Augustus Memorial, I think. I'm not sure their status. I'll probably have to go in front of a judge to get my bail amount set, and I doubt they'll release me until all three have been discharged from the hospital."

"I'll have Rich call Judge Harper. I bet he can get him to agree on a bail price tonight so we can get you out of there. It probably won't be cheap though. Three people, shit, Kale."

"One was a bystander," Kale said, as if that made the story any better.

"I'll make the calls and get the funds transferred as soon as I can."

"Thanks Charlotte." Kale hung up the phone. His law firm was one of the best in the county, and he was a co-partner with three other men. Waking up a judge on a Thursday night wasn't going to earn him any favors, but they would set his bail. Their firm held enough weight to make any judge's life miserable if they wanted--refusing to settle and taking the most basic cases to court in an effort to waste a judge's time by arguing over the smallest details.

Judge Harper had been victim to such a ploy when one of the firm's partners, Rich, had gotten upset over having to spend an entire weekend in jail after being arrested for unpaid parking tickets. Ever since, Judge Harper had been very cooperative.

Officer Bower led him back to his cell, where his cellmate seemed to be sleeping. Kale let him rest and closed his own eyes, but images of his night's activities kept flashing in his mind.