Deranged: Bad Boys of Voyageur Bay

By TB Mann

She's the girl next door. One of our best friends. We all want her, but none of us can have her.

 

I've spent the past sixteen years looking out for her, protecting her from all the dangers of the world. A shoulder to cry on when her friends were mean. Fists when people threatened her.

 

But somewhere along the way, feelings changed, intensified.

 

Now she's who I dream of when I close my eyes. She's the yardstick I use to measure all other women and men. She's who I want…

 

But I can't have her. Neither can my two best friends and bedmates.

 

It would be all kinds of wrong.

 

It's why she won't ever know.

 

It doesn't matter how derangedit makes us feel to watch her with other guys. She'll get to experience life, to grow up and do all the things that we got to do at her age. Even if it kills us.

 

I'm Jason. And along with my buddies Peter and Jarrod, this is our story.

 

Author's note: This is a darker, grittier, slow burn, age gap, MMMF story that will push boundaries and challenge your thoughts about what constitutes a loving relationship. All characters are of a legal age of consent where the story is set.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heart Sisters Publishing Inc
• Release date: Nov 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781999247683

Book preview

Deranged

Blurb

She’s the girl next door. One of our best friends. We all want her, but none of us can have her.

I’ve spent the past sixteen years looking out for her, protecting her from all the dangers of the world. A shoulder to cry on when her friends were mean. Fists when people threatened her.

But somewhere along the way, feelings changed, intensified.

Now she’s who I dream of when I close my eyes. She’s the yardstick I use to measure all other women and men. She’s who I want…

But I can’t have her. Neither can my two best friends and bedmates.

It would be all kinds of wrong.

It’s why she won’t ever know.

It doesn’t matter how deranged it makes us feel to watch her with other guys. She’ll get to experience life, to grow up and do all the things that we got to do at her age. Even if it kills us.

I’m Jason. And along with my buddies Peter and Jarrod, this is our story.

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Author’s note: This is a darker, grittier, slow burn, age gap, MMMF story that will push boundaries and challenge your thoughts about what constitutes a loving relationship. All characters are of a legal age of consent where the story is set.

Chapter One

Jason

In order to play this game, at one point in your life you’ve got to be a little mentally deranged. And every once in a while, you’ve got to call upon that sickness and make it work for you. - Cris Colllinsworth

I’m sorry to ask this of you—with Peter having the party and all—but can Katy spend the night? I’ve been called in to cover a night shift, and with the home invasions… Her voice trailed off as unshed tears made her eyes glisten.

I gave Mrs. Nelson a sympathetic smile, understanding the frantic look in her eyes. For the most part, Voyageur Bay was light on crime, but six years ago, David—Captain or Doctor Nelson to most—was shot and killed during an armed robbery at the convenience store attached to the gas bar. It shook the town to its core to suffer such a horrific crime. One that was more normal in a large city, not a small town like this. Which was why the recent spate of armed home invasions had us all locking our doors and worrying. But for her and Katy… the fear had to be overwhelming.

Of course we don’t mind. Katy’s always welcome here. You know that. In fact, we’ve kept her room set up for her.

She nodded and gave me a strained smile. Thanks. But I should warn you, Katy’s not happy with me forcing her to come here for the night.

The words should have hurt, since Katy was one of my favourite people in the world, but they didn’t. At sixteen, it had been well over a year since she spent the night at our place—well, really, it was Peter’s, but my mail was delivered here and all my stuff had been added to the household items, so ours—when her mom worked a night shift. I could only imagine how she must have felt, being told she needed someone to watch over her like a child.

Don’t worry. She’ll be fine. We’ll make sure of it.

She nodded but continued to bite her lower lip.

Mrs. Nelson—

Jennifer. You’re no longer the ten-year-old boy I met all those years ago.

I smiled and chuckled. It was hard to believe it had been eighteen years since the Nelsons moved into the house next door to Peter’s family home. Fine. Jennifer. She smiled and nodded as I continued, Go to work. Don’t worry about Katy. We’ll keep her safe.

She started to say something else, but I stared her down, using the same hard look I gave to my crew when they were being unsafe at the worksite. And just like with them, she backed down, giving me a flash of a smile and a jerky nod before she crossed the lawn between the two houses.

Tell her to bring her suit. It’s a pool party, I hollered at her as she opened their house door.

I chuckled as I closed the door. Tonight was looking up. I’d been dreading the party, not wanting to put up with people hooking up around me, but now I had a ready-made excuse to keep from joining in all the shenanigans.

I walked through the sitting area of the great room to the kitchen area. This house had been the first solo renovation project for my company Proud Bi Construction after I’d started it five years ago. Mom Evans—Peter’s mother—had wanted an open concept to update their older L-shaped bungalow and had asked me to do the work. Since then, I’d completely renovated the house and pool area, extending the primary bedroom to frame in the pool on two sides, allowing for a large, covered patio with the roof extending over part of the pool.

I was proud of that first bit of work to create the great room work, removing the walls of their sixty-year-old bungalow, and so was she. It was just too bad that she was only able to enjoy it for a few months.

Behind Peter, the pool shimmered in the sunlight, as he walked through the open, double-wide, stacked garden doors. About eight years ago, the Evanses changed over their pool from chlorine into a salt water one. Dad Evans—Peter’s father—complained he was too old to be the pool boy for our short summers. That change was one of the things that allowed me to create the extra-large opening to the pool and patio area. Without the salt system, we would have been gagging on chlorine every time we opened the house to the backyard.

Who was at the door? You’re not turning away the early ladies again, are you?

I rolled my eyes. Peter accused me of turning away the early arrivals—usually women who wanted to try and stake their claim on one of us for the evening—at every party. Not that I’d ever done it before… at least to his knowledge. What he didn’t know was that I may have gotten pissed off at a small group of them a couple of years ago, resulting in them storming away. Not that they stayed away, returning a couple of hours later while tossing me smug looks for the rest of the night. They lasted the entire night, getting what they wanted… us. For a few hours of fun. And I ensured that they kept their mouths shut by filling them with my dick while Peter and Jarrod used their pussies.

No, I’m not. Although I should. You don’t need to spend so much time getting your dick wet. Even to my own ears, the statement bordered on jealousy. And maybe I was… jealous that is.

Not getting enough? Peter grinned knowingly. For the past two years I’d been going through a dry spell. Not that I didn’t have offers, I did. More than I knew what to do with. But sleeping around just to have something tight wrapped around my cock had grown old. Besides, I had my fist and other things when I needed it.

Fuck off. I flipped him off, causing him to laugh which in turn brought back my smile. I get plenty.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. But not pussy.

I kept my mouth shut since I couldn’t dispute the fact. During high school, I’d been known as the player, sleeping with both males and females as I found fit. Not that the male count was high, living in a small country town where homosexual males appeared rare and bisexuals even rarer. But I still found them and bedded them, proving to everyone that I wasn’t ashamed of who I was. Even when my father went at me with his fists, or maybe because my father went at me with his fists to try to change me, I stood firm, and flaunted my conquests.

But Peter hadn’t been like that. At least not during high school. He dated a few girls. Slept with even less. And during those first few years at university, when he returned home on vacations, bringing Jarrod, he seemed the same. Maybe a little more open to things, but still not what I would have called a ladies’ man, even if they flocked to him.

Something changed though. Probably around the time Katy’s father was murdered when I’d been over in Thailand doing an exclusive semester of learning their traditional building and carving techniques. When I returned to Voyageur Bay, I noticed it.

It had been subtle at first. At a few parties, I saw him kissing a couple of different girls out in the open. Nothing major—as in no heavy groping sessions—but still different.

Then it increased.

And with each additional death, the loss of his parents, it grew until he was the man before me.

So who was at the door? Peter walked over to the cases of beer we’d piled by the mudroom door.

Jennifer.

He gave me a puzzled look as he picked up one of the cases and walked towards me.

Mrs. Nelson. She told me to call her Jennifer, I couldn’t help teasing.

He glared at me as he shoved the case of beer into my arms before heading back to grab another one. What did she want? Nothing’s broken in their house, right? Or is it Katy? Is something wrong with her?

I was surprised he asked about the house first before Katy. She was always the first thing we thought about, but then again, he probably saw Katy yesterday at school for their last day of the year. And this morning when he’d gone out to buy the beer, I remembered.

Everything is fine. Well, not really fine. She’s been called into work, and she was wondering if Katy could crash our party and stay here overnight. With the home invasions and all… I let my voice trail off. Nothing more needed to be said. We were all a little on edge with them going unsolved even if we didn’t admit it. They were one of the driving reasons behind this party. Everyone needed to let off a little steam with tourist season jumping into full swing.

You told her we were good with it, right? He nodded towards the case of beer I still held in my arms before adding a second. It goes out into the tub of ice by the pool house. He turned back to the stack and picked up another case.

Of course I did, I called over my shoulder as I stepped out into the almost tropical heat of the pool area.

Good.

What’s good? Jarrod asked from where he’d been arranging the bottles of booze on the second mixed drink table beside the beer tubs.

Katy’s coming to the party and to spend the night. I emptied the cans of beer into the ice.

That is good. I haven’t spent much time with her these last few visits. I was beginning to wonder if she was avoiding me.

Well, maybe if you lived here instead of Winnipeg, you’d get to see her more.

Both Jarrod and Peter shot quizzical looks at me, but I ignored it. I was out of sorts today. Work was busy and getting busier. Peter was busy between grading papers, reviewing lesson plans, and writing a proposal to develop an advanced placement English course for those in grade 12. Jarrod had been busy with the major accounting firm he worked for in Winnipeg, which meant this was his first visit in months.

Things were different between the three of us. Our relationships were changing. But I didn’t know if it was for the better. And that scared me.

Clearing his throat to cut through the awkward tension, Peter slapped his hand on Jarrod’s back. She still comes to visit with us, dropping off a couple of meals for the week, and staying for supper once a week, but school and activities keep her busy. She never spends the night anymore. But other than that, only Jason, here, seems to be able to have a conversation with her outside those visits.

I shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. Not that Katy and I spoke frequently, but we did talk or text. I made sure of it. The last time I left Voyageur Bay for any length of time had been for my exchange in Thailand, and while away her father had been killed. While she sent me the odd care package, our contact had been limited and inconsistent. I hadn’t even known David had been killed for over a month after it happened. I never wanted to lose someone that close again and not know about it.

But the worst had been when I arrived back home and saw Katy for the first time. She clung to me, refusing to let me go. I ended up living in the Nelson house for almost a month before Katy felt comfortable enough to let me move into the apartment I rented. Never did I want Katy to have to go without my comfort when she needed it again. And the only way to ensure that happened was to keep the lines of communication open between us.

I may have been the one who did that, but Peter saw her daily during the school week. It wasn’t my fault if Peter didn’t take advantage of that.

Between the years he spent as a student teacher and then as a high school English teacher at our local combined Junior and Senior High School, it meant that for the past three years he saw her almost daily. Although he never once had her as a student, he did get to see her in the hall. At least I thought he did.

Maybe he kept our connection to her quiet. I mean, we did live in a small town, but it was big enough that we didn’t know everyone. People who knew he was a teacher but didn’t know of our long connection to Katy may have wondered—and talked about—why a male teacher spent so much time out of school with a female student. And we—or maybe just me—weren’t about to change our interactions with Katy to meet some societal standard that decided what was right and what was illegal. After all, I’d been fighting against the ridiculous standards of what was acceptable for most of my life.

Don’t you talk to her at school? Jarrod cracked open a beer and handed it to me before repeating the process for Peter and then himself.

Peter swallowed what appeared to be half the can. The way the muscles of his throat rippled had me looking away, finding the special label on the can abso-fucking-lutely fascinating. I, uh, tend to avoid talking with her too much. It makes life a little difficult for her when I talk to her too much. It hadn’t been so bad when she was over on the junior high side of the school, but since she’s now in the high school side… it’s been harder.

What do you mean? My words were laced with restrained violence. Why was I only hearing about it now? The school year was over and only now was Peter saying she’d been having problems. The beer can collapsed under the force of my hand, erupting beer all over me and the pool deck.

Relax, Jason. There wasn’t anything you could do. I raised my eyebrows and stared at him. He continued, At the beginning of the year some of the senior girls who had crushes on me decided to befriend her when they realized how close we were. I nodded as I remembered how there’d been a parade of girls who’d come over to Katy’s house, spending time there for the first month of school. They even tried to get Katy to join the cheerleading team. But then they were gone. I’d worried that their absence would make Katy sad or feel bad about herself, but she seemed almost relieved whenever her smile faltered.

It took me a bit to notice it, but Ms. Stone mentioned it to me one day. She thought the girls might have been using Katy to get closer to me and didn’t want to see Katy getting hurt. After watching Katy for a week, I realized she’d been correct. He shrugged. So I backed off. Now I only say hi if she says it to me.

It hurt me to hear but I understood where Peter was coming from. Seeing Katy happy, to have all the experiences she deserved to have, was my—our—number one priority. I never wanted her to miss out on anything. She would only get one chance to grow up and I never wanted her to miss out on it.

Her happiness meant more to me than my own.

Well, she’ll be here all evening and night, so talk to her then. I left them alone to finish setting up the drinks while I finished setting up the music. It wouldn’t be long until the first guests arrived, and I wanted everything to be ready. My carefully laid out timetable—designed to keep me busy during the party—had been thrown into chaos.

All due to Katy.

The party gave me the perfect, safe excuse to spend time with her. But only if most of my hosting duties were already taken care of.

It was almost three hours later that I found myself standing near the front door, watching Katy walk across the lawn. The sound of the bass nearly drowned out her soft knocking even though I’d been listening for it. I fought myself to keep from standing there with the door wide open, waiting for her. I worried that it might reinforce the babysitting idea in her head if I stood there watching her, making sure she arrived safe… even if I was.

I waited two beats before I opened the door with a flourish. Welcome to our party, my lady. I bowed and did some little circular movement with my arm as I stared up at her through my eyelashes.

The grumpy look on her face stayed put, but the corners of her mouth quivered, and her eyes sparkled. I took it as a win and stepped close to her so I could speak without having to yell. I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your night, but I’m happy you’re here. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders like I used to. "And