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Beneath a Heart of Darkness	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 4657 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
- 54
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- 56
The sun hovered majestically over the edge of the horizon, its rays shimmering a last hurrah before slowly dipping below the distant California skyline and vanishing from sight. Tom sat alone in Booker’s Cadillac, his eyes unseeing, his body immobile, his mind locked within the trauma of his recent breakdown. He had fully intended to shoot Holland, to put a bullet straight between his eyes and end the vile man’s reign of terror forever. It had seemed the perfect solution at the time, but on reflection, sitting in solitude as the shadows of the approaching night shielded him from what was occurring within the walls of Holland’s home, he realized he had teetered close to the brink of insanity. For a split second, he had lost all rationality, and the aftermath could have been catastrophic. If it wasn’t for Booker’s intervention, he could have spent a lifetime behind bars, deprived of his liberties, leaving him at the mercy of every predator within the prisons cold, stone walls. It had been a close call, and for the millionth time, he wondered if he was emotionally ready to face his rapists in court. Maybe it would be better to slink away with his tail between his legs rather than put himself through what was sure to be a humiliating experience, with no guarantee of a successful outcome. Or maybe he could take his Smith and Wesson and put himself out of his misery once and for all, sparing everyone he loved the inconvenience of taking care of a psychologically damaged man.
Footsteps on gravel alerted him to someone's presence and focusing his eyes, he watched Booker approach the car, an evidence bag held in each hand. The dark-haired officer walked to the back of the Cadillac, and opening the trunk, he placed the two bags inside before slamming the lid closed. Moments later, the driver’s door opened, and Booker climbed in behind the wheel, the seat shifting slightly under his weight. He left the door ajar, the cool evening breeze helping to dry the sweat from his weary body. The search, although fruitful, had taken its toll, and he longed for a hot shower and a large whiskey, not necessarily in that order. He felt dirty, and not just in the literal sense. But before he could indulge his tired body, there was a more pressing issue at hand. Hidden within one of Holland’s many wall safes were two pieces of evidence that were about to destroy Tom’s world yet again; two pieces of evidence that had the power to end their relationship forever.
“Find anything interesting?”
There was a noticeable strain in Tom’s voice, but his expression remained impassive, almost detached. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Booker and the uniform officers had found hidden within the walls of Holland’s house of horrors. The reality of it all was becoming too tangible, too confronting, and he didn't know if he was emotionally equipped to deal with the fallout.
Not wanting to discuss his findings while sitting in a car with half a dozen uniformed officers milling around, Booker stalled for time. “Sánchez is speaking to Lupita. She’s been with Holland almost as long as Jorge, so she’s seen a lot. She’s agreed to give a statement and cooperate in any way she can. They’re taking Holland in for questioning, but he’s already lawyered up, so it’s doubtful we’ll get much from him.”
“And?”
It was a leading question, and one Booker chose to ignore. Pulling the car door closed, he inserted his keys in the ignition and fired up the Caddy’s engine.
Tom’s brow knitted into a frown. “You obviously found something, you came out with two evidence bags. Care to share?”
“Not now,” Booker muttered. “Let's wait till we get home.”
“Okay,” Tom reluctantly agreed before holding out his hand. “So, can I have my gun?”
A cloud passed over Booker’s face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom.”
Annoyed by the response, Tom glared at his partner. “Why the hell not? Is it because I almost wasted Holland or ‘cause you’re afraid I’ll waste myself? I’m still a cop, Booker. I haven’t signed my resignation papers yet, and Fuller gave me back my weapon so I could protect my—”
“Fuller made a mistake.”
Shock widened Tom’s eyes. “You think I’m unfit to carry a gun? Who died and made you boss? So, it’s okay for you to have an anxiety attack, but when I lose control, I’m a danger to society. Well, screw you, Booker. Fuller’s my commanding officer, not you and—”
“I’ve spoken to Fuller,” Booker revealed in a quiet voice. “This is his order, not mine. He’s regretting talking you out of signing your papers until after we searched Holland’s home. He wants to speak to you tomorrow.”
Anger brought a flush of color to Tom’s cheeks, the force of his rage curling his hands into tight fists. “You spoke to Fuller? Well, I guess once a nark, always a nark. I don't know why I’m surprised, ratting people out is what you were trained to do, right?”
“Tom—”
“DON’T TOM ME!” Tom yelled, his mouth inches from Booker’s face. “You had no right telling Fuller. NO FUCKING RIGHT!”
Instead of fighting back, Booker remained annoyingly calm. “If I hadn’t said anything, someone else would’ve. There were half a dozen witnesses, Tom, do you honestly think no one would have talked? You attacked and pointed a gun at a man who was unarmed and not behaving in a threatening manner. I know Holland pissed you off, he pissed me off too, but you were out of line, and he would be well within his rights to lay charges for assault.”
“Oh, you’d just love that, wouldn’t you?” Tom spat, the pain of his betrayal clouding out all rational thought. “Sometimes I think you want Holland to get away with his crimes. Why is that, Booker, huh? Could it be you’re in love with him?”
Enraged at the accusation, Booker jammed the Cadillac into gear and without waiting for Tom to fasten his seat belt, he slammed his foot on the accelerator and jerked the steering wheel sharply to the right. A spray of gravel flew from the tires as they lost traction on the loose stones, but Booker quickly gained control of the skidding vehicle and pressing his foot to the floor, he sped down the driveway. He couldn’t believe Tom was questioning his loyalty, especially with a man like Ingram Holland. But while he was furious at the implication, he was prepared to cut his lover some slack. Tom was under an enormous amount of pressure, and he wasn’t about to end their relationship because of a carelessly spoken comment. But he needed to vent, and so he took his fury out on his Caddy. He shifted through the gears at a frenetic pace, barely touching the brake pedal, allowing the car to skid around the corners of the treacherous country road. Tom sat rigidly beside him, his muscles tense, one hand gripping the door’s armrest in an attempt to keep his body from swaying side to side. Neither man spoke, but by the looks on their faces, it was obvious they both had a lot to say. Their deafening silence spoke volumes, but ultimately, it would be Booker’s confession that would tear them apart.
**
The hour-long drive back to the city gave both men the time they needed to cool off. However, a moody silence still blanketed the atmosphere, making it all the more difficult for Booker to impart the news he knew would destroy Tom’s world. On edge, he waited until Tom was sitting down in their apartment before broaching the subject. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Although not surprised by the statement, the flicker of foreboding churning Tom’s stomach rose to a nervous flutter in his chest. He was about to find out what the search had uncovered, and he had a sick feeling it was all to do with him.
Swallowing down the anxious lump that had risen into his throat, he looked Booker square in the eye. “Okay, spill. What did you find in Holland’s house that’s made you so jumpy.”
Booker paused for a moment, his agitation evident by the nervous raking of his fingers through his hair. He paced around the room, too wired to sit down, knowing Tom’s reaction would send them both spiraling back into the horrors of their past. But he couldn’t stall forever, and stopping in front of his lover, he took a deep breath and announced his findings. “Holland had dozens of hidden wall safes, which we might not have found if it wasn’t for Lupita. We found passports in several different names, all with Holland’s picture. We also found passports belonging to young men, and hundreds of photos of teenage boys. Lupita told Sánchez that some of Holland’s companions disappeared in the middle of the night, so we’re checking the missing persons register to see if any of the photos match up.”
Tom leaned forward in his chair, his muscles tense. “Go on.”
“We found tens of thousands of dollars hidden throughout the house,” Booker continued. “Which probably isn’t incriminating given Holland’s wealth, but Fuller’s going to get the IRS involved so it may prove vital.”
“And?”
There was an edge to Tom’s voice, a hopeful expectation the information he was about to hear wouldn’t be as bad as what he had conjured up in his mind. But Booker knew he was about to burst that bubble, and with a reluctant sigh, he divulged the truth. “We found hundreds of video tapes, all labeled with names and dates. We also found reels of 8mm film, dating back to the nineteen-fifties.”
Horrified, Tom rubbed a finger over his upper lip. “Jesus,” he muttered. “The sonofabitch has been abusing minors since he was in his twenties? How deep does this go? Is this a ritualistic practice of all the Pi Taus? Do they all grow up to be pedophiles?”
“I dunno know, maybe,” Booker replied absently. While the news was appalling, for Tom, the worst was yet to come and taking a seat next to his lover, the dark-haired officer laid a gentle hand on his knee. “Um, Tommy, there’s something else.”
With a frown, Tom’s gaze darted over Booker’s face, searching for answers. “Something else?”
Taking his lover’s hand in his, Booker delivered the news. “There were two other tapes found hidden in a safe. One with your name on it, and one with mine.”
Tom’s muscles stiffened, the color draining from his face, leaving him pale and shaken. “Wh-What?”
With a nod of his head, Booker motioned toward the two evidence bags laying on the table. “Holland videoed you when he… well, you know. I’ve spoken to Fuller, and he’s giving us the opportunity not to enter the tapes into evidence. He could lose his job if the commissioner ever found out, but he understands the delicacy of the situation. If you don’t want anyone viewing your tape, we can destroy it, and no one would ever know.”
The revelation was a lot for Tom to take in, and he remained motionless, his mind in a whirl. He had several choices, but neither one stood out as the preferred course of action. Option number one was to watch the tape and then make his decision. But the thought of seeing Holland fondling him, or worse, made him sick to his stomach. His vague recollections of what had occurred in the oubliette were distressing enough, he wasn’t sure he wanted to watch the whole sordid show complete with surround sound.
Then there was option number two. He could submit the tape as evidence without ever knowing what it contained. On the positive side, the footage was sure to strengthen the case against Holland, adding another nail to the mogul’s coffin. But the young officer was already coming to terms with the knowledge twelve jurors would see the tape of his rape, and the thought of humiliating himself yet again was almost too much to bear. That left option number three; destroying the tape. At first thought, this seemed the most obvious choice. Fuller had given him an out, but by doing so, his superior officer was also putting his job on the line. If caught, Tom wasn’t sure he could deal with the fallout, the guilt attached to destroying a good man’s career would eat him up inside. The death of Richard Jenko had shaken him to the very core of his being, and he hadn’t been openly receptive when Fuller took on the role as their captain. But over time, they’d become not only close colleagues but friends. Therefore, although tempting, he immediately dismissed the idea. His captain should not have to risk his career to save him from embarrassment. What was done was done, and he needed to face his demons like a man.
When gentle fingers caressed his hair, Tom flinched, the contact breaking through his reverie. His eyes focused on Booker’s worried face, and it was then he remembered his lover had mentioned two tapes. “Holland videoed you too?”
It was the moment Booker had been dreading, and he began to wonder if he’d made a mistake by revealing the existence of his tape. But he couldn’t be in a relationship based on lies, and especially not one with Tom. Since his assault, Hanson had suffered from trust issues, and Booker wasn’t about to be the one to validate his fears. The truth would hurt, but keeping it a secret would do more damage in the long run. And so, rather than prolong the agony, he revealed his private shame. “Yeah, he did. He made a tape of me with Jorge.”
Tom’s jaw tightened. “And what exactly are you and Jorge doing on this tape?”
Overcome with embarrassment, Booker dropped his head, unwilling to meet his lover’s gaze. “I think you know what,” he replied quietly.
Tears filled Tom’s eyes. “It’s a sex tape, isn’t it?” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “Holland filmed you fucking Jorge.”
Booker’s face reddened. “Don’t say it like that,” he mumbled, his gaze remaining focused on the floor. “It wasn’t fucking, we were—”
“Making love?”
Stunned Tom would see it that way, Booker’s head snapped up, his wide eyes imploring his lover to understand. “N-No! It wasn’t making love, Tommy, it was manipulation! Holland manipulated us!”
A sardonic smile pulled at Tom’s lips. “That’s bullshit, Booker, and you know it. Manipulation doesn’t give you a boner, being horny does. You were so fucking hard for him you didn’t even care that Holland filmed you. I’m right, aren’t I? You knew Holland was videoing you and you performed like a fucking trained seal. You made a porno tape, and you made it with him! You fucking… made it... WITH HIM!”
“IT WASN’T LIKE THAT!” Booker yelled, and jumping to his feet, he began to pace the room. “You have no idea what we went through. We were—”
“I can’t listen to this,” Tom muttered and standing up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Tom, wait!”
But Booker’s desperate plea fell on deaf ears, and the only response he received was the slam of the apartment door.
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Beneath a Heart of Darkness