Corey said, “Yes, you are, I heard about you. I heard all about you.”

He tried to spin me around while I continued to struggle with him. I got my right hand free and pummeled him in his face with my balled fist.

“Get the fuck off of me!” I yelled as I punched him. I got my left hand free and beat him with both hands. “You motherfucker!”

Selena said, “Damn, this is serious.”

I don’t know how tough of a man Corey was, but I had him curled up in a ball on the floor, while I kicked and stomped his head into the wall.

“You know you want it, man,” he insisted. “I heard about you.”

Janice said, “Well, you must have heard the wrong shit, because he just kicked your ass instead of fucking it.”

I was still confused and in need of answers. My hands and clothing were a bloody mess. I stopped stomping his head into the wall and screamed, “Who told you that bullshit? Andrea told you I was fucking gay? That bitch told you that lie?” I yelled at him.

He whimpered, “They all told me at this mansion in L.A. They said everybody was doing it. That’s how they got me to do it. They said you were doing it, too.”

I was shocked. Was Marcus Vissel spreading false rumors about everyone he worked with at this mansion of his to turn people out? How crazy was that?

“They said a lot of celebrity folk were down with it. It was like a Roman society,” Corey continued. He started running off known names in Hollywood that I would not repeat.

Janice heard some of the names and responded, “Get the fuck out of here. Are you serious?”

Corey cried, “I saw some of them there with my own eyes. They have other places out in California where they do it, too.”

This big security agent was beaten bloody and crying in a ball, like a butt-naked baby. And he was uncovering everything.

I screamed, “Just because they were there don’t mean they’re all fucking each other! You went for that stupid shit!”

He said, “They are. I even fucked a couple of them.”

“Oh my God,” Selena responded to it. But she didn’t sound disgusted like I was by it; the slut looked turned on. “Which ones did you fuck?” she asked him.

I didn’t want to hear shit else about it. I had to get the hell out of there to regroup and to change my clothes. I was there at Mr. Vissel’s mansion, and at various other spots in L.A., but I surely wasn’t fucking another man, and no man was fucking me.

I looked back at Corey and his two, freaky consignors. I said, “You motherfuckers are all crazy,” and I stormed out the door.

“Fuck you!” I heard one of them shout as I left. It was probably Janice.

I made my way to the elevators thinking a mile a minute. It was just after eleven o’clock, so I could call Marcus in L.A. and it would be only after eight. Then I would call Andrea back in Chicago and reveal what I knew about the secrets of the mansion. I guess she still wasn’t out of my life after all.