Arch

Chapter 7

I'm being driven to the meeting for this weekend. I've been in a foul mood since the last meeting two weeks ago. If I must look at his face, I swear I will do something heinous, and I do not think anything will calm me down till I've eradicated him from the league.

As we pull up, I request an area as far away from Ryder as possible, but they inform me the areas have already been allocated, and sure enough, we're next door to each other. His decrepit van looks like it's on its last legs with the battered old trailer, which looks like they've tried to renovate it but failed. It's an abomination, and all I can do is stare at it.

That guy he was with last time walks around the corner, and Ryder follows, throwing his arm around him and kissing him on the temple. They start messing around, and Ryder pins him up against the side of the van, towering over him. His whole body engulfs the other man, and he tiptoes up and kisses him. Not a peck, either, a full-on kiss, tongues grinding against each other. Ryder"s dad comes around the corner and whacks Ryder up the back of the head, and they both flinch and turn around as his dad just shakes his head at them and walks off. Ryder steps back, and the guy goes to walk off. But Ryder grabs the back of his shoulder and pulls him back, pushing him against the van before devouring his mouth again. Something stirs inside me, and my stomach clenches and flutters. They're making me feel sick. It's disgusting, pair of fairies. I shake my head and try to stem the nausea that I tell myself I think I feel.

All day, all I can hear is them laughing and shouting at each other. It's sickening. People like him should be kicked out of the association. It shouldn't be allowed.

I call my father and tell him one of the competitors is gay, but he barely registers a reply. Looks like I'm going to have to get rid of him myself. I pull out my phone and report him to the association, explaining the debauchery I've had to witness them carry out, practically fornicating in public for all to see and my disgust with the situation.

I CC my father, myself, and my father's lawyer into the email before telling the association they need to be more careful who they let in and that my father will withdraw all backing if they allow this to carry on. I know Father contributes to many businesses and charities, so it will hurt if he removes backing.

I decide to start a petition to get him removed. It's against my basic human rights to not be subjected to depraved human beings.

My phone starts ringing. It's Father's lawyer. "What?" I snap.

"Are you trying to end your career?" he snaps at me.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" I yell. "I shouldn't have to be subjected to these… creatures."

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut. I'm on my way to put this fire out. Who else have you sent these emails to?"

I forward him everything I sent and sit back and sulk, and the whole time, I can hear them laughing while I'm sitting here alone again. I can't help but feel jealous that he has friends and a family. Me? I have a team. I have a lawyer. But friends? No. I decide to call one of the local skirts for a hookup, but the door rips open before I can, and Mr Jeffries is standing there looking rather annoyed.

"I have better things to do with my weekend than put out fires a bigot like you is causing. Do you realise the damage you have done?"

I smile. "I hope I get him kicked out, and he shouldn't be allowed to race ever again."

"You're joking, right? You may have just ended your career and made him the gay poster child for the whole association!" He shakes his head at me. "I'm so over you right now. I wash my hands of you. Your father can deal with you from now on. I'm done!" Heslides his laptop out. "I will clean up this mess, but that's it. We're done! I have more pressing matters to deal with than babysitting a selfish, spoiled brat like you."

His words are harsh and hurt. Whenever I do something that displeases my father, he sends Mr Jeffries to deal with me. I storm to my room and start flicking through my phone. I text a few of the girls, but they're busy. I look for a friend, but I don't have any of those. I head out to the living area, and Mr Jeffries is gone, so I slide back into the window seat only to see Mr Jeffries is out there with Ryder's dad, and I rush outside. Mr Jeffries whirls on me and shoves me back, "Get back inside now, or I swear to god, I will deliver you to your father myself."

"As if he cares." I spin and head back inside.

All I can do is sit and watch as Mr Jeffries apologises for me and my behaviour, and it riles me up something chronic. What on earth do I have to do to get Ryder and ‘his' sort out of here?

I head to bed early and decide to get some extra rest ready for the race tomorrow, but I can't sleep. I hear laughter, all be it faint. I can still hear it, so I peer out of the window. Beside the van, they have a small fire pit, and a few of the other racers are there with Ryder, his boyfriend, and his Dad, sitting around drinking beers. I wasn't invited clearly.

I watch them for a few hours, and slowly, they start to disperse. When only Ryder and his boyfriend are left, Ryder cleans up, puts the fire out, and they step into the back of the van. I wait with bated breath to see if they come out, but they don't, and then the van starts gently rocking back and forth, and my breath hitches. Oh my god, they're having sex. They have to be.

I can't take my eyes off the van. I need to keep an eye on it, just in case they… I don't know, but I need to see. The van continues rocking, and my dick starts to stir. I rub the heel of my hand into it, grunting at the sensation while I concentrate on the motion of the van. I match it with my own strokes. I gasp as my erection is almost painful. I slide my hand inside my boxers and start to stroke my penis, squeezing at the base as I pant and stroke faster as the van"s gentle rocking becomes more vigorous. I crack the window open a little and listen against the gap. I hear faint gasps and grunts, and I groan as my dick throbs in my hand. I slide faster over my strained shaft before I hear a louder grunt followed by a gasp and a groan. It catches me off guard, and I cum into the front of my boxer shorts.

Iimmediately feel violated, disrespected, embarrassed, but most of all, disgusted with myself. I storm into the bathroom and slide into the shower. I'm angry at myself for the way my body responds to his groans and sounds coming from the van. The way thinking about it now has my dick hard again, but most of all, I'm ashamed of how he makes me feel.

After tossing and turning for hours, I can't get him out of my head, I get up and get ready, but when I get outside, my bike isn't there. Ryder turns and scowls at me as he and his dad work on his bike, and there are those feelings again: envy, anger, and jealousy. I storm to my pit crew, but all the bikes are in the truck, and the team are packing everything away.

"What are you doing?" I screech out at them, and they shake their heads.

One of the team—Marco, Marcus, Marc, something—informs me that I have been withdrawn from this race and the next three meetings due to my homophobia and that I will be reinstated once I make a formal apology to Ryder and his family.

"Are you fucking serious?" The next thing I know, Mr Jefferies walks around the corner.

"There you are. Your father is expecting you."

He gestures towards the car park, and I storm off. If my father has come here, he best have some answers for me because I won't settle for being treated like this.

As we get to the car park, a town car is waiting, and Mr Jefferies pushes me towards the back. I climb in. It's empty, the door slams abruptly, and there's a bang on the top before we set off. I sigh. Of course, Father wouldn't come here. What was I thinking?

I curl in on myself and close my eyes. It's a far drive, so I might as well sleep.

We pull up to the estate, and I get out and storm up the stone steps to the front of the house. I push in through the door just as Dobbs opens it.

"Good afternoon, young sir. We weren't expecting you home so soon."

"Where's my father?"

"Sir, Mr Bartholomew II is in Bali with your mother. They won't be back for another four weeks.

"Why the fuck am I even here?" I scream at him, livid that my father would allow me to be excluded from the race, but also seething that he isn't even here to talk to me and won't be for weeks.

I storm upstairs to my suite. My clinical suite, with nothing of interest in it, is nothing discerning to say; this is Arch's room. It's as generic as the guest suite down the hall, with all white and cream furnishings and gold trim. Even my trophies are packed away in my walk-in, hidden out of sight.

This doesn't look like an adult lives here. It doesn't look like anyone lives here. It's like a hotel room; it"s plain, dull, and boring, and that's just how I feel, but mostly, I feel empty. I throw myself down on the bed and scream out in anger. But no one comes, no one checks, no one cares.