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Rough Justice

By Taylor, Rigby

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Book Id: WPLBN0002828041
Format Type: PDF eBook:
File Size: 1.33 MB
Reproduction Date: 2005

Title: Rough Justice  
Author: Taylor, Rigby
Language: English
Subject: Fiction, Drama and Literature, Homophobia, good parenting, relationships
Collections: Erotic Fiction, Authors Community, Recreation, Music, Sociology, Literature, Most Popular Books in China, Favorites in India, Education
Publication Date:
Publisher: Self-published
Member Page: Rigby Taylor


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Taylor, B. R. (n.d.). Rough Justice. Retrieved from

Rough Justice is both a thriller and love story in which two young men in subtropical Australia discover that love is about more than sex. In his new school, Robert has trouble conforming to the expectations of his peers and is severely provoked by a fellow student; an acolyte of the fundamentalist Headmaster whose dogmatic Old Testament beliefs have led him to the brink of insanity. Relationships, morality, values, courage, friendship and what it takes to be a ‘man’, are but some of the themes explored in this gripping tale. When he falls in love, Robert's life falls into place - until attempts on both young men’s lives force them to take extreme measures, the consequences of which pose an ethical dilemma that could destroy their new found happiness.

In his new school, Robert has trouble conforming to the expectations of his peers and is severely provoked by a fellow student, an acolyte of the fundamentalist Headmaster whose dogmatic Old Testament beliefs have led him to the brink of insanity. When another student is harassed violently by other students, Robert tries to protect him and change the school culture, thereby earning the enmity of the Headmaster. The bullies decide Robert and his friend, Bart the P.E. teacher, need to be taught a lesson. Despite the support of his parents, Robert has a hard time accepting himself. Fortunately, the example and friendship of an elderly couple he meets on holiday further up the coast, gives him courage. On returning to Brisbane, things deteriorate to the point where Robert, unwilling to involve the police, takes matters into his own hands, resulting in a situation that could return to haunt him. Relationships, morality, values, valour, friendship and what it takes to be a ‘man’, are but some of the themes explored in this tale of courage and determination.

With brain and conversation on autopilot, Robert didn’t realise until Aaron thumped him on the shoulder, thrust a bit of paper into his hand and said, ‘That’ll be extra-shagabodacious, Rob me boy! Phone number’s there in case you come adrift,’ that he’d accepted an invitation to a party. Blood drained. Fingers froze. What the hell to do? The last thing he wanted was to go to a bloody party! Shit! Shit! Shit! He’d have to think of an excuse. A shadow made him look up. ‘I’m glad you’re going, Robert. Aaron’s parties can get a bit frantic.’ What the hell’s her name? He smiled vaguely at the thin, wide-eyed girl who asked lots of questions in class. Oh yeah, Maria. No, Marcia. What’s she on about? She hardly knows me. I could be a frigging rapist. ‘Why’re you going then?’ he asked lazily. ‘I heard you say you were going.’ ‘You’re joking!’ ‘How’d you guess?’ Marcia gave a tinkling laugh, tossed her curly black hair and joined a gaggle of girls at the jukebox. Cold sweat trickled underarm. What’s the matter with me? Why don’t I want to go to the party? Because you’re a fuckwit. Get out and have a good time like everyone else! But you don’t want to be like everyone else - they’re two-dimensional yobbos only interested in sex... The unsettling interior monologue continued until class, where his ability to focus on the job in hand let him shut out unwelcome questions and thoughts. Saturday arrived and as there hadn’t been time to develop a contagious illness, Robert jogged the two kilometres through chill drizzle to a rambling wooden house in a neglected allotment on a busy road. Traffic noise would have prevented a knock being heard even if the air hadn’t been pulsating with a Rock beat loud enough to anaesthetise. He followed the numbing blare to a medium-sized room lit by a couple of red bulbs and a strobe. Someone sprawled across a lounger, three girls jiggled in the corner by the stereo, and several boys were drinking at an ornate bar, its mirrored surfaces reflecting and multiplying the erratically flashing lights. One of the girls detached themselves from the group and, as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he recognised Marcia. ‘Robert,’ she yelled, twining her arms around his neck. ‘You’ve come! The others reckoned you wouldn’t, but I knew you would.’ She stared into his frown and giggled nervously. ‘Graham and Barbara are over there,’ indicating vaguely. ‘Let’s dance.’ She slid her arms down and clutched at his waist, apparently unwilling to risk separation. Aaron’s large fist punched his shoulder. ‘Good to see ya, Rob. Come and tank up before Marcia gets you by the balls.’ Robert was slightly shocked, but Marcia laughed and trailed them to the bar where Robert swapped his half-dozen cans for an opened stubby. Marcia dragged him to the middle of the room. Deafened, irritated by smoke and strobe, they jiggled aimlessly. He wondered when it would be OK to leave. On the other side of the room a ragged voice was screaming along with the music. Marcia was a good mover and for a while he enjoyed the dancing, until with a sudden flush of embarrassment realised they were the only couple on the floor. The others were scattered around the room kissing, groping, smoking, drinking. He steered Marcia across to Graham and Barbara, but it was too noisy to talk. Placing his untouched stubby under a chair, he went for an urgent pee. A bundle of clothes whimpered in the passage. The toilet stank - someone had missed the pan. An open bedroom doorway emitted grunts from the dark. He wished he was somewhere else. Before he could re-enter the main room, Aaron grabbed his arm, pulled him into a bedroom, and closed the door. The noise level sank to a roar. ‘Fuck, it’s hot,’ Aaron muttered, dragging off his shirt and taking a small bottle out of the drawer in the bedside table. With a grin of complicity he draped his arm round Robert’s neck. ‘These are for you, Rob baby.’ He whispered into his ear, thrusting two white tablets into Robert’s hand. ‘What are they?’ ‘Happy pills.’ ‘No thanks.’ ‘They’re harmless.’ ‘I don’t want them. Aaron’s friendly leer dissolved. ‘You’re a nerd, Karim.’ Pocketing his treasure, he slammed out. Robert stood still. Twinges of disappointment and relief flittered through his chest. He’s right. I am a nerd, he thought, forcing himself to return to the smoke and noise. Aaron was leaning on the bar running his fingers through his girlfriend’s hair while she stroked his chest. He looked over her head at Robert and winked. Relieved, Robert winked back, joined the others, retrieved his can and pretended to sip. Six months previously he’d got drunk. Drunk enough to lose control, but not awareness. Instead of feeling more at ease his sense of alienation had intensified and, convinced he was surrounded by hostility, he’d panicked and vowed never to do it again. Graham yelled in his ear, ‘Not your scene?’ Robert shook his head. Graham grinned and nodded towards the door. Robert went out and stood in the porch, deafened this time by a torrential downpour. He took several deep breaths. At least the air was clean. Panic retreated. A few minutes later Graham joined him and they stood side by side watching the rain. Robert nodded back towards the lounge. ‘Who’re all those piss-heads?’ ‘No idea.’ ‘Gross.’ ‘Extra. How’d you get here?’ ‘Jogged.’ ‘Wanna lift home, Fitman?’ ‘You beaut.’ They raced for the car. ‘Get in the back, Barbara’s draining her brain.’ Graham turned in his seat, stared at Robert, grunted a laugh and said, ‘I knew I was right about you.’ ‘Right about what?’ ‘The others reckoned you’d chicken out. Rumour has it you’re a...’ ‘A what?’ ‘You know. A ladies’ man, but not a man for the ladies?’ Robert’s mouth refused to function. Blood had drained to his feet. ‘Are you telling me the others reckon I’m queer?’ He must have looked and sounded more aggressive than he felt because Graham backed off immediately. ‘Hey, hey. Cool it, Rob. I told them you weren’t a faggoty limp-wrist. You stick to yourself a bit at school and people were wondering – that’s all. No worries. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t have an AIDS arsehole on the back seat.’ Robert confined himself to an aggressive growl. ‘Mind you, I wouldn’t mind seeing Marcia’s face if she discovered her date was a poofter.’ Graham laughed wildly. Drinks and tabs were starting to show. Robert’s heart sank. He’d been set up. Too late to pretend he had a sudden urge to jog home through the rain. Blankness settled on his brain as two figures raced across. Barbara scrambled in beside Graham; Marcia clambered in the back, threw her arms around Robert’s neck and kissed him wetly on the lips before subsiding into a fit of giggles. Her breath smelled of alcohol. ‘Surprise, surprise,’ laughed Barbara. ‘Let’s go somewhere quiet. That was a madhouse.’ ‘Don’t his parent’s mind?’ ‘No idea. They always clear out. I’ve never met them.’ Robert gave directions to his house. Graham leered back over the seat. ‘Yeah sure, mate. He parked in front of the closed gates to a park. Before the engine was turned off, Barbara had unbuttoned Graham’s shirt and was licking at his nipples. Marcia tried to follow suit but Robert pushed her hand away. ‘I need some fresh air. Let’s go for a walk.’ ‘Sounds romantic,’ smirked Graham, leaning back against the window while Barbara fiddled with his jeans. Marcia giggled. The rain had stopped, so they squeezed through the gap between fence and gate and wandered into mist and dripping trees, arms around each other’s waists. ‘Do you fancy me, Robert?’ ‘You’re intelligent and good to talk to.’ ‘That’s not what I asked.’ Her voice was slightly slurred. ‘You ask good questions in class.’ ‘Clever of you to notice, but that’s still not what I asked.’ ‘You’re slim and slightly drunk.’ ‘Robert!’ ‘What?’ ‘Kiss me!’ Robert complied. Marcia wanted more. They found a bench. He took off his jacket and they sat on it. It began to rain heavily. They raced back to the car and scrambled in, soaking wet. Graham and Barbara didn’t look up - his fingers were scrabbling in her hair; her face was in his groin. Marcia laughed softly, slipped out of her blouse and placed Robert’s hand on her breast. He felt her nipples harden. They tongue-kissed. She undid his zip and awkwardly took out his penis, scratching it on the zip. He winced and reluctantly slid his hand into her panties. She jiggled her buttocks to make it easier. In the front seat Graham muttered, ‘Stop. I don’t want to come yet.’ They rearranged themselves and this time it was Barbara’s turn to groan. Marcia bent and sucked tentatively at Robert’s still flaccid penis. He had the feeling it was her first time. He wanted to smash his fist into her head and run away as fast as he could. He hated the feel of her hot wetness, the smell, her slimy tongue pushing into his mouth, the soggy sucking on his cock. Her demands for kisses. He was also acutely embarrassed by his lack of an erection. But most of all he was bored. Bored, bored, bored! This had to be the most incredibly dull, asinine way to spend an evening that could be devised. And it seemed as if they’d been doing it for hours! ‘Robert?’ He looked down, frowning. Marcia slid up beside him, licked at his ear and whispered, ‘I’ll do anything you want.’ The invitation was clear, but there was nothing he wanted her to do. ‘Did you like what I was doing?’ ‘I’d like it a bloody sight more if we had a bit of privacy!’ Robert couldn’t keep the snappiness out of his voice. ‘How can I get a hard on listening to those two slurping in the front seat.’ Marcia giggled, fears allayed, her attraction to this paragon of sensitivity redoubled. That’s what I like about you, Robert. You’re so classy.’ They snuggled together, his hand on her breast, hers on his belly, swapping the occasional soggy kiss for what seemed an eternity in damp, semi-Platonic complicity until, with great snorts and exclamations of release, Graham achieved orgasm, adjusted himself, and drove them home. Marcia got out first, leaning through the window to deposit a kiss full of promise and saliva. ‘Next time we’ll be alone,’ she whispered, an expectant smile dowsing him in nebulous alarm for the future. The evening had seemed endless, so Robert was surprised to find both parents still up. ‘Had a good time?’ ‘No.’ His face was tight with anger. He wanted to forget, not relive the embarrassment. ‘Why not?’ ‘Too noisy. Too much drinking. Nothing to do.’ ‘Did you meet any girls?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘Nice?’ ‘To talk to, but… Oh hell. I give up. I just don’t understand people!’ Angry at the world and himself, Robert snapped goodnight and shut himself in his room. Excerpt 2 Robert waited another few minutes before attempting to leave. When he tried the door it was jammed. No matter how hard he pushed there was nothing doing. Bloody hell, he thought, someone’s seen the unlocked door and shot the bolt. He was wondering whether to try the windows, shout, or just sit there, when he smelt petrol. A few seconds later a whoosh was followed by loud crackling noises as flames leaped up outside the windows. Someone’s set fire to the place, but surely it can’t burn, it’s brick. No need to panic, there’s a way out if I can only think of it. Fighting back hysteria he threw himself against the door. It was wood and would eventually burn; he’d be able to get out then. Smoke was finding its way through gaps under the eaves. Dry grass as well as the tree was alight and acrid smoke from discarded plastic wrappers, bottles and condoms was horrendous. He shouted, but the smoke was already hurting his lungs and it was getting alarmingly warm. The wooden rafters were smouldering where they over-hung outside, and paint was beginning to blister on the window frames. The bars held firm. A couple of sacks in front of the door had started to smoulder. He lay flat on the floorboards in an effort to avoid the fumes. I should have smashed the windows, he thought, coughing uncontrollably. That would have let some air in. Every Friday the caretaker and his wife, who lived in a small lodge beside the gates, invited Ralf for a cooked lunch because Emmy refused to believe that single men were capable of looking after themselves. ‘At least he will have one good meal a week,’ she would say every Friday morning when reminding her husband to invite the groundsman, who she secretly thought was rather sexy. As usual, everything was over-boiled, under-salted and tasteless. At least it made Ralf appreciate his own cooking. He was wandering back, debating whether to check the new grass on the bottom field or return to the workshop, when he noticed a column of smoke drifting up from the boundary. Heart racing, he pounded across the fields to the cricket shed. A small group of kids, supposedly on an ecological survey of the waste area beside the fence, had gathered to observe, ignoring the ineffectual bleating and arm waving of Miss Koutt who was desperately trying to herd her charges to a safe distance. Ralf burst through them, nearly tripping himself up on the young arms and legs as they scattered before his bull-like charge. The flames outside had died down but smoke was gushing from under the rafters. The bolt was searingly hot so Ralf whipped out his handkerchief and slid it back. As he threw open the door the sudden increase in oxygen ignited a sheet of flame across the inside of the roof. The onlookers screamed with hysterical laughter at sound and sight, then gasped in amazement as Ralf crawled across the threshold and disappeared into the smoke. He emerged seconds later dragging a bundle of clothes and bellowing, ‘Get back! Get back! It’s going to blow!’ Enough children heard him to start a panic rush, so Ralf and his bundle were only ten metres from the shed when a chest-pounding VAROOM followed by an enormous thump hurled them to the ground. The entire roof had lifted about half a metre into the air before plonking back drunkenly askew on the walls. Within a minute the rafters were alight and the kids watched in delight as the cedar-shingled roof collapsed crackling and roaring into the containing brick walls. Such was the absorption demanded by the spectacle that no one noticed Ralf put his mouth to the bundle of clothes again and again and again, before sending Miss Koutt away. For the second time that term an ambulance carried a body away through the school gates.

Table of Contents
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Chapter Twenty-seven Chapter Twenty-eight


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