Authors Note/Trigger Warning: So, this chapter is the beginning of the fuck shit. And I just want to say that it'll probably be hard to read, just as much as it was hard for me to write. Because it was incredibly hard to write such an accusation and the dialogue that contained what's being accused. Believe me. The accusation of pedophilia is mentioned in this chapter. And like I said, it was hard to write, so I know it's going to be hard to read. If you don't want to read this chapter, that's perfectly fine.
As I've stated many times before, Michael Jackson was an innocent man. Always has been and always will be. This book explores just that. The Chandler Family got greedy as hell and lied on their son and Michael Jackson to get what they wanted out of Michael. And as I've stated before, that's the real crime here. The latter part of Jordie's childhood was ruined and the rest is history.
That final stroke sent the fireworks rising in my lower abdomen ablaze and I couldn't help but kiss the crook of my husband's neck as we climaxed together. We haven't made love like that in what seemed like ages. I've grown so accustomed to the quickies, the holiday and birthday sessions. But this? It seemed like it came every once in a while, and I'm convinced it's because Michael finally wants to start our family. He doesn't realize how excited I am to have children, because he's been so focused on those irrelevant people. Now we can finally focus on what really matters.
"You've been holding back on me. You went all out tonight. What's up with that?" Michael asked me.
"You told me you were ready to start a family." I reminded him. "It's the first time we've actually tried towards having a baby because you've been so preoccupied with someone else's. I was beginning to feel like I was the only one who cared."
He scoffed and looked at me like I was crazy. "Woman, you know I'm ready to have children. Quit playing with me."
"I'm serious... I'm not mad at you for wanting to be kind. Believe that. I was just mad you were helping out this ratchet family who see nothing but dollar signs when they look at you. And while you were helping them, you lost sight of what really mattered. That's another reason I was getting on you so much."
"Because you're ready for me to fertilize your eggs."
I laughed so hard my stomach began to hurt. "We're getting older every day. I don't want to be sixty with little kids like my parents."
"Trust me. That's not going to happen. I won't let it happen. Don't worry about it, babe. I've got my eyes on the prize. You're gonna give me three sets of triplets, two sets of twins and maybe one kid born alone."
I looked at him like he had lost his mind because clearly, he had. "The possibility of that is slim to none. My grandmother on my moms' side was a twin. My parents didn't have any twins, nor did my siblings."
"Katherine had twins." He reminded me.
"Exactly. Quit playing with me, woman. With our genetics combined, we'll have an army of twins. Get over here."
Weeks rolled right on by like it was nothing, as did our names in the media. With the lack of interviews and photo shoots scheduled, people didn't talk about us anymore, which was fine with me. I'm just trying to get back to our normal private lives so that we can start this family already. I didn't realize how hard it was to get pregnant. When you first have your period, people scare you and tell you not to have sex because it's like once you do, you'll get pregnant immediately. That's obviously not the case with us. But they made it seem like it was so easy when it's not. Sometimes, I feel like my age is a factor, but in all honesty, I know it's not. My mother had me at thirty-seven and she had Mariah at fifty-one. Age shouldn't matter in my case. And to my knowledge, Michael's sperm count is perfectly fine... Maybe we're just not trying hard enough. We're gonna have to go at it on my most fertile days, because otherwise, I'm not getting pregnant.
Jordie, his brother, and father have been visiting the ranch frequently and it seemed every time they visited Evan was always pushing his script on Michael. He found new ways to sway Michael's 'no.' Every weekend it was either, "Jordie helped me write it," "it's time for the world to see what my son has to offer" or even going so far as to say, "Michael, you're like my son's Godfather. Don't you want to support your godson?" That one bothered both of us. Crazy enough, it was a wakeup call to officially be done with Jordie and his father. He finally realized the whole family was crazy and I'm sure Jordie would grow to be just as crazy as his parents. From then on, Michael began to distance himself and no longer answered their phone calls or invited them to the ranch. It's crazy that it took all this time, but I'm glad it finally happened. But alas, Michael didn't feel right unless he let Jordie visit a final time before putting them on restricted visiting – they would only visit when we weren't present because Michael couldn't stomach being in Evan's presence anymore. Or if we were there and they inquired about us, security was under strict orders to tell them we weren't on the property. My husband has never been a confrontational person, but at least this farewell visit wouldn't be as bad as the one with June.
"Michael, can I talk to you for a minute?" Evan asked me. If he asks me about that screenplay one more time, I swear I'm going to scream. It didn't take too long for me to realize that Evan was just trying to use me to support his film. The only reason I invited them over after not inviting them for weeks, was so that Jordie and Nikki could enjoy one more visit before not seeing me on the ranch anymore. I didn't want to have anything else to do with the family, but I wanted to make sure that Jordie and Nikki, like every other child, could visit Neverland whenever they wanted. "Can we sit back there real quick? It's a very important conversation." He pointed to the patio away from everyone else.
"Sure," I led him to the patio. One more word about the screenplay. One more word. I sat down and instructed Evan to sit down too.
He sat in the chair across from me. "I just wanted to know... Are you able to loan me ten million dollars for my film or not?"
I sighed. I knew this was coming. "No, Evan. I already told you I'm not interested. I've told you a thousand times."
Evan nodded. "You and my boy, Jordie have been pretty close this past couple of months, huh?"
My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean, 'close?'"
"I mean, he's been able to call you whenever he wants. One word from him and you're Johnny on the spot and you're just as quick to invite us over. You're acting like he's your son and you're his daddy or something."
"Evan, what are you talking about? The only way I've been in contact with Jordie is either through you or June. You're acting like he calls me whenever he wants and that couldn't be any further from the truth. All I've done was listen to your son, if you think that's playing 'daddy,' maybe you should try it sometime."
"My son has never come up and talked to me about anything. Even with the whole thing with June. He came to you first. Not Dave. Not me. You. What is your relationship with my son, Michael?"
"What relationship? I don't have a relationship with your son! My relationship was with you and June, but now I see I'm going to have to cut you off too." I stood up. "Jordie has been the one suffering from this mess June and now you have created. I bet you didn't even realize that because you and June have both been too busy trying to get something out of me. You can't just let your kid be a kid? You've got to point the finger at the only one who seems to be doing right by your son?"
Evan looked at me. He heard me, but I know he wasn't listening to me. "Michael, are you having sex with my son?"
I took a double-take. "Am I what?!"
"Are you having sex with my son? Don't think I forgot about Jordie telling me he came from your room and you giving June a peace offering to forget about it. Are you having homosexual relations with my thirteen-year-old son?"
"You're out of your mind, Evan. You're sick. You and June are one and the same. Don't twist your son's words to fit your own sick narrative. You know what he told you."
"Do I? Because you still haven't answered my question and I've asked you twice now."
"No! You think I'm a pedophile, Evan? Is that what you think of me?" You know what? Forget this. I threw my hands up in frustration. "You and your children have to go. I've had enough of this." I made my way into the house and called security to have the family escorted off the property.
Sex? Sex?! With a little boy? You've got to be kidding me. I've heard many things about me over the years, but that one tops them all. How sick of a person do you have to be to accuse someone of something as sick as that? Because I've listened to and helped you and your child who clearly has the world's worst parents, you feel the need to assume we have a relationship? A relationship? With a child?! A child? They know I'm married. Shoot, married or not, I would never in my life. I would never hurt a child. I'd slit my wrist before I'd ever hurt a child. What kind of monster are you to not only do that but to think of someone doing that to your son? What kind of sick fantasies is this man having that he would even let those words come out of his mouth? I'm- This is beyond me. Evan better get off my property before I call the police.
"Babe, what is going on? Why is Evan screaming and hollering like a maniac in front of my house?" Shayla found me in the library.
I looked at her. "Evan accused me of molesting his son."