Chapter 9

BRIAN:

“Sorry for the interruption, folks. I’m Detective Carl Horvath, and this is Detective Stewart. We have some questions for a Mr. Michael Novotny and a Ms. Lindsay Peterson.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, Detective. There and there,” I reply with a smirk, pointing at both Lindsay and Michael. “The blonde and the short brunet.” I figure it’s impossible to mistake Michael; he’s sitting next to Emmett, who, even seated, is much taller. Besides, Em is a sandy blond, not a brunet.

“I demand to know what the meaning of this nonsense is!” Debbie yells. “You can’t just come into my home on Christmas…”

“Ma’am, I’ve already apologized for the interruption. But even though it’s a holiday, crimes have to be solved.”

“Linds, babe, what’s going on?” Melanie’s voice is fairly controlled, but there’s an undercurrent of anger.

I stand up, reach across the table, and tell Melanie, “Give me Gus.” When it looks as if she might protest, I insist. “Now,” I demand, letting her know she’d better not argue with me.

“He’s my son, Brian, you know, the one you’ve ignored,” Lindsay spits out. “You left town for some dime-a-dozen blond boy ass.” She waves vaguely in Justin’s direction. “There’s no way you are getting Gus.”

“Excuse me? I may have been a few hundred miles away, but I have not ignored him,” I growl. “Even though I haven’t been able to visit, I’ve still supported him financially. Very generously, I might add. Now, give me my son.”

“LIAR! I haven’t seen one red cent!” Lindsay screams, tightening her hold on the little guy, who instantly starts to scream.

At this point, Mel forcefully pulls Gus from Lindsay’s tight grasp and demands, “Do as he says, Linds; you’re hurting him.”

As she resentfully hands him across to me, the detective finally gives out a shrill whistle, which instantly stops the noise and commotion - well, all except for Gus, who I’m cradling in my arms, gently jiggling him up and down in an attempt to soothe him.

“Thank you. Now if we could get back to the matter at hand, I have some questions for Mr. Novotny and Ms. Peterson.”

Lindsay earnestly crosses her hands over her heart, her lips a thin line, and primly declares, “I’m not answering anything until I find out why Brian left me - uh, Gus - and ran off to live with that conniving little homewrecker.”

“Lindsay, how is Justin a homewrecker?” I ask in a mocking falsetto. “I was never your husband, your partner, or anything other than your friend. So, Justin didn’t replace you; hell, we just reconnected a week ago.”

Flashback  

“Hey, Sunshine, you have male.”

“Brian?” Justin blurts out. “Brian, what are you doing here? How’d you find me?”  

“It’s a very long story,” I respond. I’m striving for nonchalance but not really succeeding since it’s hard to tell whether or not he’s glad to see me. He just stares at me for long moments like I’m a ghost.

When he snaps out of his daze, what he says next reinforces my uncertainty. “Okay, but I really don’t have time for this right now… um…” He gestures vaguely behind him. “...I have someone waiting in the kitchen…”

Shit. It’s been too long. He must have a boyfriend or something. “Whatever,” I mutter, taking a step backward and holding my hands up, half in resignation and half in an effort to block out the picture of Justin with someone else. “I… guess you’ve moved on. I’ll go… but first, I wanted to tell you how fucking sorry I am for what I said when my loft was broken into. I never should have blamed you or talked to you that way. It wasn’t until I calmed down that I realized how unfair it was of me, and that I never even gave you a chance to explain… or defend yourself. Later… Much later, I found out I had put my trust in the wrong people. Again, I’m sorry, Justin.” I move back another step, anxious to get away and drown my sorrows at the nearest bar. “Have a good life; you deserve it,” I finish up. I lean down and kiss him softly on the cheek, whispering, “Goodbye,” before turning away, my long legs eating up the pathway. Shit, I forgot I don’t have any way out of here; the cab is already gone.

But then, a few seconds later, just as I reach the sidewalk, I hear Justin hollering, “Brian, wait! Come back. We need to talk; you’ve misunderstood.”

My fingers on my cell, I hesitate. What could I possibly have misunderstood? But maybe I should let Justin explain, unlike what happened after the burglary. “You sure?” I ask, my eyes narrowing as I turn back around and look at the blond. “I don’t want to intrude.” But I don’t want to leave, either.

“Yes, I’m sure. We do need to talk,” Justin emphasizes. “There’s… there’s something I need to tell you. Something you should know.”

It had fucking well better not be another guy, I think darkly as I return to the stoop and then follow along behind him, my eyes glued to his ass. Christ, it’s just as tempting as ever.

I blink in surprise when Justin leads me into the kitchen, stopping next to a highchair in which an adorable little girl is perched. She looks at me inquisitively with bright blue eyes.

This is not what I expected. Bemused, I blink at the little girl. Well, at least it’s better than another man. “Oh, you’re babysitting,” I splutter stupidly. “I thought you meant you had company.”

Justin giggles. “Uh, I’m not exactly babysitting… Brian, I’d like you to meet McKenna Abigail… your daughter.”

“M… my… my daughter? What? How? When?” Doubt stabs at me - how does Justin know she’s mine? But then I remember that Justin never bottomed for anyone except me, and I close my eyes as the full implication hits me. Because of my hasty actions and not trusting the one person I should have… I scrub a hand down my face, halting at my chin.

Forcing myself to look at Justin, I whisper, “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry, Justin.” I’m not sure if my actions can be forgiven… but maybe, if I apologize enough, we can get past this.

“Brian, I can’t say I’m exactly happy with how you treated me, or the things you said, but this is not the time to discuss it,” Justin states firmly, cutting his eyes towards McKenna. “Right now, I need to feed the princess. She can get kind of demanding… she definitely takes after her father… if you get what I mean.” Justin smirks at me while preparing his - Christ, our - daughter’s lunch.

“She’s beautiful, Justin,” I announce, staring at McKenna in awe. “She looks so much like you.”

Taking McKenna’s divided plate, filled with unidentifiable mush, over to the table, Justin hesitates before extending it to me.

“No, thanks,” I decline, wrinkling my nose at whatever shit is on the plate. “I’ve already eaten.”

“Very funny,” Justin retorts with a roll of his eyes. “What I meant is, would you like to do the honors… Dada?”

“Dada?” I stare dumbly at Justin for a moment before realizing that’s me. Fuck, I have two kids now. “Ah, no, not really,” I belatedly respond as Justin patiently continues to hold out the plate. “Just what is all of that, anyway? It definitely doesn’t look appetizing.”

“I pureed this right before you got here. It’s squash, peas, and bananas. Want some? No carbs.” Justin scoops up a spoonful and raises it to my lips.

Before I’m forced to taste the unappetizing goop, I’m rescued by McKenna. “Da.”

“Oh, my God!” Justin turns to McKenna, excitement in his blue eyes - eyes that are identical to our daughter’s. “Did she just say Da? We’ve been trying to get her to say it for a while now. Maybe you’re our good luck charm.”

I can’t quite stop another stab of jealousy. Who is ‘we’? But then I realize I’m being ridiculous; Justin has never given me any reason not to trust him. “Justin…”

Justin looks up, watching as I take one step forward, then another, stopping only inches from him. Justin holds his breath, waiting for my next move. I cup his face in my hands before leaning down to cover his lips with my own, in a soft, chaste kiss.

Pulling back, smirk firmly in place, I say, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. You just had such a look of love and wonderment on your face.”

“Don’t apologize. Never ever apologize for kissing me, Brian,” Justin insists, the glowing smile I have sorely missed lighting up his face. “Now, I better feed our daughter,” he says with a chuckle.

~ ¤ ~

The day has been full, with little chance to really talk about anything important. When Daphne gets home and walks by us, she casually hollers out, “Hey, Jus; hey, Brian,” before realizing what she’s said and comes storming back into the room. After the little spitfire calms down, we talk for a while before Justin hands the baby monitor to Daphne, asking if she can take over baby duty for the night.

“Don’t fuck it up this time, Brian,” she warns me as she accepts the monitor and turns to head upstairs.

~ ¤ ~

When we finally crawl into bed sometime later, sleep is the furthest thing from our minds. The silence stretches for long minutes, before, shrouded in darkness, I start talking, hesitantly at first, until I’ve told Justin everything that has happened since he left Pittsburgh. “They did it.” I sigh heavily as I finish relating my suspicions, which, coupled with the call from Horvath, confirms Lindsay and Michael had set up the robbery, purposefully leaving the door unlocked so I would blame Justin.

It isn’t until Justin touches my arm, caressing it gently, that I breathe a sigh of relief. We continue talking, with Justin explaining why he didn’t tell me about the baby and why he moved to California, instead of staying in Pittsburgh. From there, we try to figure out the best way to proceed.

~ ¤ ~

Later, once our plans are in place, I give in to the urge to kiss Justin. Leaning over, I gently press my lips against his.

Justin instantly responds, running his tongue along my upper lip and making me moan. Then he does the same to my bottom lip as he wraps his fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck.

“Brian, make love to me,” he pleads.

Those words don’t make me cringe like they once would have. With Justin, it’s more than a fuck. Maybe it even is ‘making love’. “Do you have supplies?” I ask hoarsely.

“Uh, oh God, no, I don’t,” he stutters, his face going pink, before he covers his face with his hands.

Internally, I jump for joy. There really isn’t anyone else. “Never fear, I’m like a boy scout - always prepared,” I announce with a chuckle, getting up to retrieve what we need and almost tripping over my own feet in my eagerness.

As I lower myself back onto the bed, setting the lube and condoms down next to me - five rubbers since I doubt the first round will be the last - Justin murmurs, “Just go slow, okay? It’s… been a while."

"How long is a while?" I know there’s no one now, but could it be...

"Um..." he scrunches up his nose, squeezing his eyes closed.

Fuck but he’s adorable when he does that. Thankfully, I don’t actually blurt out the lesbianic sentiment.

"Not since before you kicked me out," Justin answers in a small voice.

I pull him in, kissing him gently again. "Like the first time?"

Justin nods, his nose rubbing against mine.

I trace his lips with my tongue, coaxing his mouth open, and then I deepen the kiss. The way he moans and latches onto my mouth makes me wonder if he has been kissed like this since the last time we were together.

He pulls at my hair, groaning, “Brian, God, Brian, please, just fuck me.”

"Patience." I smile, moving back in to devour Justin's lips, while sliding my hand down the length of his body. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

“Brian, please.” Justin is becoming more frantic, his fingernails digging into the skin at the nape of my neck. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

"No," I say, "I'm trying to memorize you. I want everything to be crystal clear when I think about tonight, and that means remembering exactly how you felt to me.” I close my eyes and concentrate on the smells and the sounds and the smooth texture of his skin, wanting to memorize every detail. I learned early on that really perfect days have to be remembered because they rarely happen. Ever since I realized that, I’ve always been careful to record every single second, so I can recall it later on - when I need it the most.

Justin squirms underneath me, unable to hold still. I finally give in, reaching over and flipping open the bottle of lube. My lover immediately spreads his legs further, and I slip my hand beneath him, teasing his hole with the tip of one finger.

"Please hurry, Brian! I don't know how much more I can take!" Justin screams when he feels my finger at his entrance. "I want you inside me."

"Still memorizing," I say softly.

“Nngh,” Justin groans, making me smile as I add that to my recollection of this special moment.

Eventually, I give in to Justin’s pleas, pushing his legs toward him until he gets the hint and wraps his arms around them, exposing his opening to me.

Licking my lips in anticipation, I move my mouth lower. My tongue replaces my finger and I slowly rim him, nipping at the folds of skin and probing as deep as I can with my tongue.

God, I’ve missed the way Justin moans. It’s such a turn-on.

Lifting my head and doing my best not to give away that I’m the one who’s getting desperate, I playfully ask, "Do you want me inside you now?"

"Yes, please, Brian, now," Justin begs.

All I want at that moment is to completely lose myself to the sensations of being inside Justin. All patience gone, I hurriedly prepare myself. As I slip inside Justin, he throws his head back and lets out a long sigh.

"Christ!" I moan. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

What starts out slow soon becomes fast and frenzied, and it doesn’t take long before we both cry out our simultaneous release.

Panting, I collapse on top of him.

“That was amazing,” Justin gasps, his arms wrapped tight around me. He turns his face to the side. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to look at me, making me worry that something is wrong.   

“Hey,” I urge, “look at me.” I gently turn Justin’s face toward me and notice tears. With my thumb, I wipe away the tears that are leaking from his eyes.

“Don’t,” Justin protests as another tear escapes from the corner of his eye.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask, wondering if I was too rough in my excitement and need.

“No! No, I just didn’t think I’d ever feel like this again.” Justin inhales shakily before closing his eyes, sleep quickly overtaking him.

I move over so that my full weight isn’t pressing down on him, but leave an arm and leg flung possessively across his body. Not yet ready to sleep, I trace his features with my fingers, reacquainting myself with him.

I think back on everything we talked about tonight. Things Justin told me regarding Michael. I always assumed he was my friend. But, no real friend would do what he did or threatened to do if Justin didn’t leave town.

I know I have always preached ‘no regrets,’ but I do feel regret. Regret for not making Michael understand a long time ago that there would never be anything between us. Regret for allowing him to continually belittle Justin and not putting a stop to it. His actions have caused me to miss out on so much.

I remember when I was a little boy, Jack would sneer at me about being a sissy if I cried. The beatings were always worse if I did. So from the time I was about seven years old, I refused to ever cry in front of another person. With the enormity of everything I learned tonight bearing down on me, I now feel tears threatening to escape. Knowing Justin is asleep, I give in and let the tears fall. Tears for what I’ve lost. Two friends that I always thought had my best interests at heart. Tears for treating Justin the way I did. Tears for what my actions have caused me to miss out on.

When the tears finally stop, I scoot even closer to Justin and entwine my fingers with his smaller ones. I kiss his shoulder before nuzzling against his neck with my nose. At last, feeling like I’ve come home, I succumb to sleep.

End of Flashback

I’m brought out of my musings by Lindsay ranting, “Besides, you owe me, Brian!”

What the heck? How can she possibly think that? “I must have missed something,” I scoff. “Would you care to explain yourself?”

“We have a child together, Brian, a history. You’re going to disregard your son for this… this… homewrecker?” Lindsay shrills in her haughty WASP voice.

“Lindsay, get one thing straight,” I growl. “I will never disregard my son. But apparently, you did. Besides, Justin and I do, too.”

“Huh?” Bewildered, Lindsay gapes at me. “You and Justin do too, what?”

The door once again opens, and Daphne comes in carrying McKenna. Before introductions can be made, Michael sneers, “You went straight… you’re into pussy now, Boy Wonder?”

“Are you jealous, Mikey?” Daphne taunts.

“I guess introductions should be made,” I droll. “I was just about to tell you, Lindsay, that you’re not so special. You see, Justin and I have a child, too. One that I didn’t know about because dear little Mikey ran Justin out of town by threatening to have Daphne raped, if he didn’t disappear.”

“Oh, Mother of God!” Debbie whisper-shrieks, while Emmett gasps and claps a hand to his chest.

“Folks, that’s enough,” Detective Horvath interjects in an authoritative voice. “I need Ms. Peterson and Mr. Novotny to come down to the station. But before we do that, these eyewitnesses are going to confirm I have the right people. First, I’d like everyone to meet Kevin Anderson. This young man went to school with Mr. Taylor and Ms. Chanders. They contacted him and asked him to be present today.”

“And I didn’t even have to pay him a hundred bucks,” Justin interjects with a smarmy smile in Mikey’s direction.

“Again, what’s the meaning of this?” Apparently recovered from the announcement of what Michael threatened to have done, Deb sounds anxious.

“If you would kindly quit interrupting, ma’am, I could get to that. We were informed that Mr. Anderson was approached on the St. James Academy school grounds by Mr. Novotny, who asked him to get Mr.Taylor to come outside, claiming that ‘Brian’ wanted to talk to him. He has agreed to identify the person who approached him.”

Kevin points towards Mikey, saying, “Yeah, the brunet there. I asked him if he was one of Taylor’s fuck buddies, and he told me to just go get Taylor, and there’d be a hundred bucks in it for me if I got him to come out.”

“Stalking charges were also filed against Mr. Novotny,” Horvath observed, glancing down at the notepad he’d pulled out of his jacket. “We have pictures of him following Taylor and Chanders around. We even visited his place of business and spoke with his boss about his whereabouts during the times that were cited and discovered that he was away from his workplace without authorization, one time saying there was an emergency with his uncle." Glancing up, he asks, "Can you verify that?" With no forthcoming answer, he continues, "when we brought him in for questioning, Ms. Peterson showed up, explaining to Detective Stewart that they were just so worried about the kid - that’s Mr. Taylor - because their friend had kicked him out.”

I snort in amusement. “Sorry.” I give a wave of my fingers, indicating he can continue.

“Harry, I believe this is where you come in.” Horvath looks over at his colleague.

Detective Stewart swallows hard before expounding, “Lindsay showed up at the station as an alibi for Mr. Novotny, reiterating just how worried and concerned they were about the kid. Lindsay batted those brown eyes and made an unspoken promise of a - pardon the bluntness - a romp in the hay, if I would make the charges disappear.”

A loud gasp and a “Harry! How could you?” escape Lindsay’s mouth.

“Come on, Lindsay, what was I supposed to do? All through high school, I tried to get your attention. You always passed me up, kept me as ‘the boy next door,’ never gave me the time of day, did that tinkling laughter thing whenever I’d ask you out. You showed up at the station that day, looking simply whorealicious, in your tight mini skirt and low V-neck sweater, with promises of a romp if I let your friend off, and I went against everything I knew and believed in regard to upholding the law - all to get what I so desperately wanted throughout high school, and stupidly still wanted. I have to say, you must have had a lot of practice, it was much better than I could have imagined, until Horvath found out what I did, reported me, and I got suspended. I should have heeded my father’s warnings to never let my dick overrule my better judgment.”

I don’t think any of us miss Mel’s look of distaste or the vehement, “Bitch!” she fires at Lindsay, as she scoots her chair over the few inches that the limited space at the table allows.

“Our last order of business,” Detective Horvath intones in a grave voice, “brings us to Eddie Haskins. He has agreed, per his lawyer’s advice, to assist us in identifying the people responsible for setting up the robbery at Mr. Kinney's loft.”

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this bullshit!” Debbie shouts, angrily shoving her chair back so she can get up. “If you are going to try and pin the loft robbery on my son, well, you better leave my house right this instant. There is no way Michael would ever do something like that to Brian. He has always looked out for him and has his best interests at heart.”

Christ! What a bunch of BS. I snort once more before apologizing again. “Sorry.”

“Mrs. Novotny, sit down! This man saw two people coming out of the building on Fuller, corner of Tremont, carrying garbage bags. Mr. Haskins, will you point out the two people you saw leaving the building on Fuller and tell us what transpired?”

“The tall blonde and the short brunet,” he says as he points at them. “They came out loaded down with bulging garbage bags, laughing. I heard the man say something about a boy wonder and his fat ass and that the woman had a great idea. The woman, in turn, said something about Brian not paying attention to Gus and about leaving the loft unlocked, so that Justin would be blamed and kicked out. I wondered who Gus was, but when they opened the doors of the station wagon, I heard an infant screaming, and I figured that must be Gus.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Horvath puts a halt to Haskins’ testimony. “Coupled with the items belonging to Mr. Kinney that were found in storage units rented under the names of Melanie Marcus and Victor Grassi…”

“Wait, what?” Debbie screeches. “Under whose name?” She stares at Michael, her eyes beseeching him to counter the accusation.

Mikey’s mouth opens and closes uselessly as he flounders for an explanation.

“You little asshole!” Debbie yells, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Were you going to frame your uncle?!”

Michael squirms in his seat and shiftily looks away from her.

Deb leans over, but when she realizes she can’t reach her son, she grabs the silver meat fork I gave her as a gift one Christmas and hauls off and whacks Michael a good one.

“Maaa!” Mikey whines in protest. “You about poked a hole in my eye.”

“Ms. Peterson and Mr. Novotny, you are both under arrest,” Horvath pronounces before Deb can give her son another whack. “Kindly get up and come with us. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…”

“Mel, baby, sweetie, I didn’t mean…”

“Can it, Linds. Forget it right now if you think I’m going to represent you. Either one of you,” she clarifies with a disgusted glance at Michael. “You both are unbelievable. You especially, Linds. I can’t believe you would stoop so low - endanger your child and set up an innocent kid, just because he had something that neither of you did. Get out of my sight!” Mel spits at her, rising and moving away from the table so Lindsay has room to get out.

Emmett stands and pulls Michael from his chair, pushing him toward the officers.

As Lindsay gets up, I sneer, “So you see, Lindsay, it wasn’t me who forgot about their child. What in God’s name were you thinking of - leaving my son in a car while you set up my loft to be robbed? I agree with Mel - it’s fucking unbelievable!” I turn up my lip at both of my so-called friends. “Get out of my sight! I obviously never really knew either one of you.”

One of the officers has taken Lindsay’s arm to hurry her along, but she somehow twists her body and pulls loose from the officer’s grasp. She grabs the carving knife from the table, shrieking hysterically as she turns toward Justin. “I refuse to let you destroy my family, you husband-stealing slut! You're disgusting! You’re scum!”

Before I can react, a deafening shot rings out in the stillness of the house.

I look around, half-dazed, and notice two things. First, there are three people on the floor, blood pooling beneath them; second, the front door is open and Michael and McKenna are nowhere to be seen.

The silence is broken by Gus’ loud screams.

TBC