CHAPTER 33: CLOSER Part 1

CLAIRE

“Okay, so I know I wasn’t supposed to enjoy that, but dammit, that was so much fun!” I tell my partner-in-crime… literally.

“I know, Claire, but rest assured that my sister deserves this and so much more! Lindsay has always been too…”

“Bitchy for her own good? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Yes you did, and you are right. Granted, I’m just as much of a bitch, but I save that trait for the truly deserving.”

“So what are we going to do with all of these clothes?” I have to admit, that although they were technically stolen, Lindsay does have exquisite taste.

“Well I was thinking that since my parents aren’t going to dispute the charges to Inez- they only wanted the proof that Lindsay forged Mother’s signature, you see- we can have some of the pieces you like resized, and add them to your trousseau. It’s only fair since you helped me. Not only that, but if you’re going to marry well, you have to dress the part. That’s half the battle in our set.”

“But Lynette…”

“No buts, Darling. Besides, I’m sure Bill will appreciate it. By the way, you really should go and see both Annette and Brian.”

“I don’t know about going to see Annette, Lyn. I mean, wouldn’t that be a bit awkward? You know, first wife meeting the ‘trophy’ wife so to speak? I wouldn’t want to offend her.” I’ve been down that road with my own ex, and it’s not a path I wish to repeat.

“I get where your thoughts just went Claire, but I promise you, it won’t be like that. When there isn’t another way for Lindsay to avoid jail time, she’s going to lash out at Annette. Although she is still a bit pissed at Bill, she is also a fair woman and won’t begrudge you your happiness with him. Besides, she’s moved on, too. So she has her own ‘trophy’ to make shine. Stop worrying about it, okay? There’s no need. In fact, she’ll respect you all the more for your boldness and empathy. This isn’t something she should hear about at the hands of a bitter woman… the same whore who caused her divorce to Bill in the first place, I might add.”

Spoken like that, I can see the wisdom of what Lynette is saying. “Okay, I’ll do it. But will you come with me?”

“Sure! Us women of leisure must stick together, and besides, I still have to drop off the receipts to her. Anonymously, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” I chuckle. “I’m glad that we’re friends, Lynette. Your mind is absolutely too diabolical.”

She laughs. “Well see, you know me all too well. In fact, Clarence just told me the exact same thing! A gal’s gotta have a hobby, after all.” And we both end up laughing hysterically, as we continue to sort through everything.

I almost can’t wait to see the look on Lindsay’s face when she notices Lynette and I wearing the gorgeous clothing she so painstakingly picked out. It will serve the bitch right! Try to fuck over my brother, you get fucked up by me!

BRANDON

I have to admit that I am gawking a bit. I had been to Pittsburgh once before, and I remember the old baths. Although there is a feeling of nostalgia here, there is absolutely nothing to suggest that a whole lot of fucking and sucking went on in this very building. Leave it to the man, who might be my brother, to make his new company’s headquarters here!

Ironically, my dad’s mentioning the name of Brian Kinney wasn’t the first time I had heard of him. Of course, if you are a gay man, you can’t come to this town and not hear of him. But I was also surprised to hear him mentioned in my neck of the woods, not too long ago in fact. I was out of town on business when Brian breezed through my favorite club, fucking everything that moved that night. It was the night he had landed one of the most exclusive clothing accounts within the city of Chicago; big news, considering the backwater Pittsburgh is, compared to New York. But Leo Brown’s assistant had raved about Brian’s prowess and business acumen. Having seen the ads run everywhere, including those on television, I couldn’t disagree that Brian Kinney was definitely something special where marketing was concerned.

Now I’m standing within his offices, wondering how he will regard my presence here. Not too long ago, my dad, John, had gotten sick. We all didn’t think he would make it. In fact, the doctors had told us to contact the funeral home to let them know his death was imminent. But Daddy J had always been a fighter, and he simply wasn’t ready to turn up his toes.

During that rough time though, he decided to tell us of his family history. It was then that it came out that he not only had a twin brother, but that in a drunken moment, he had slept with the man’s wife. That was a real shocker! My other dad, Robert, was none too pleased. As for my adopted brother- or I should say, Robert’s bio-son, Garrett, he was just riveted by the whole idea that there could be another DNA link to me and Daddy J.

So after much discussion over the last year, here I am, trying to find out the truth.

“May I help you?” An attractive blonde woman approaches me. I have to say, I admire her style. I may be gay, but I can appreciate her beauty the way any artist would.

“Perhaps. I’m actually looking for Brian Kinney. My name is Brandon Kinney-Dickerson.” I watch her to see if she’s picked up on my hyphenated last name. She doesn’t disappoint.

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to my boss, would you? I don’t remember Brian mentioning that he had any other family. Maybe an uncle once but, it was so long ago, that I don’t remember.”

“We’re definitely related, but how is the question.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ms…”

“Cynthia. Cynthia Moore.”

“Well Ms. Moore, I’m not sure that Brian would want me to disclose all of this.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t, but do it anyway.” At my protest, she holds up her hand. “Understand this, Mr. Kinney-Dickerson… no one, and I mean NO ONE, gets to Brian without going through me, at least not within this building. As for outside of it, you’ll have to contend with a host of other people. Among them will be a little blond pitbull, who might look like a pushover, but I will assure you that he is vicious when attacked, and even moreso where Brian is concerned. Justin is not afraid to tell someone to fuck off in any number of ways, all in the name of protecting Brian. Now I can either smooth the way for you, or I can make that road extremely jagged. Your choice.”

I look at her thoroughly, sizing her up through narrowed eyes. Although she seems a mere slip of a woman, even I can see the steel spine she carries underneath all that Maybelline. This is not a woman who can be charmed, coddled, or controlled. And definitely not a chick that will bend to anyone’s will. I had heard about his bulldog assistant, but to meet her in person is another matter altogether.

“Fine, Ms. Moore. But this is a rather in depth matter, of a very personal nature. I ask, in advance, for your utmost discretion.”

“And you will have it, of course. But there are certain others that have to be made aware of your presence in the vicinity; those who can also run interference for you, if needed. Brian and Justin have been, and are going through a lot right now. It’s best if we are all involved, and informed to an extent. In the meantime, have you eaten?”

I’m shocked by her question. Based on the stern talking to she just gave me, I wouldn’t have expected such a question to pass her lips. “No, not yet, Ma’am.”

“UGH! Ma’am? Really, Sir?” She chuckles. “Let’s do away with such formalities, especially since we’re of an age. You will call me Cynthia, and I will address you as Brandon. Brian wouldn’t expect any less from either of us.” She leads me back to a series of offices, and I can’t help but laugh aloud. “What is it?”

“I’ve only been here one time years ago, when I was just passing through on my way back to Chicago. I just find it fitting that Brian- or should I call him King Kinney- has decided to use the old shower rooms for the Executive offices.”

“You’re sure you’re not a former trick of his, trying to use a different angle to be connected with him?” She looks at me sternly, eyes searching mine for the answer.

“Oh, I’m sure, since in Chicago, I’m Brian’s equivalent. Besides, that would have been disastrous in more ways than you can possibly know at this time.”

She nods. “Okay, just wanted to make sure. Let me tell Carolyn that I’ll be out of the office for a time, but can be reached on my cell. Something tells me that this is a conversation best had away from here.”

“It is.” As she heads over to the other sentinel guarding the private office of Kinnetik’s CEO, another duo of women approach us.

“Cynthia, I need to speak with Brian, right away… please?” The brunette says, plaintive tone to her voice.

Cynthia returns to my side, her posture so rigid I’m almost afraid her spine will break. “Claire, now is not the time or place for you and Brian to have it out. I thought he’d made himself clear the last time you were here. You and your mother are no longer welcome!”

“It’s not that, Cynthia. My mother and I have had our own falling out. I just want to speak to my brother. I need to speak to him. This is Lynette, Lindsay Peterson’s sister and we have news. But first, there is much to tell him about what’s happened today. We, just left the DA’s office and…”

“Hold it! Claire, this is…” she turns to me.

“Brandon Kinney- Dickerson, the son of your Uncle John.”

Claire’s eyes are real wide and watery as she looks at me. “Oh my… does Brian know you’re here?”

I shake my head. “No, not yet. But if Cynthia doesn’t mind, I think you and your friend should come with us. What I have to say, will pertain to you as well. I also suspect from what Daddy J has told me, that you can corroborate everything I am going to tell Brian’s stalwart assistant so that she knows I am the real deal. Your friend may come too, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, trust me,” her friend, Lynette says. “This is a bit of news I wouldn’t want to catch secondhand. Besides, Claire has some news of her own to share, Cynthia and Brandon. You both can consider yourselves her practice models for when she finally catches up to Brian. This day is just full of surprises!” She chuckles.

“I take it you’re not pro-Lindsay?” Cynthia asks, smirking. What is that about? And who is this Lindsay person?

“I’m pro-Lindsay about as much as Brian is straight.” She laughs. “That’s never going to happen, and neither will me ever being on Lindsay’s side for anything. No, my sister has burned her bridges with me a long time ago.”

“Fine, ladies and gentleman, let’s be out of here, then. There’s a cafe on the corner that we like to use for staff meetings, even if we’re still relatively small right now. They have excellent food and coffee, and is close enough that I can get back here if I need to in a hurry.”

Moments later, we are all tucked away into one of the cafe’s private areas. After we have settled in, I relay to them everything I know and have been told from my dads. Claire, as suspected, was able to confirm and fill in quite a few blanks of my story. I could tell that Cynthia and Lynette were riveted by our fucked-up family tree, but not in a bad way. Each of them asks questions that were both thoughtful and compassionate, and all I could think was that Brian was a lucky man to have these women on his side.

“So the question is: what do we do about Lindsay?” Lynette asks.

“Why is she a factor at this point?” I ask.

“To know Lindsay is to loathe her. The fact that Brian may, or may not, be Jack Kinney’s son will give her ammunition to try blackmailing him and ruin Kinnetik in the process.”

“Why the hell would she do that?” Claire asks.

“Quite simply, she’s a vindictive bitch. And if she can mess with Brian’s self-image in any way, or cause a scandal to make him look dishonest about his humble beginnings, she’ll use them. With the fact that his potential father was the ex-lineman for the Cleveland Browns, it could be said that John funded Brian and used his contacts to make him the success he is. Now of course we all know it’s bullshit; Brian is a self-made man if I ever saw one. But implication and innuendo is what Lindsay specializes in. As long as she can cause doubt in her target audience’s minds, she wins,” Lynette explains.

“So if Daddy J is Brian’s father, it would be a problem?”

“Not at all. But it’s all how the story is spun, which will make the difference. If it is presented like a dirty little secret, than that is how it will be perceived by Kinnetik’s clients and future clients. However, if it was a story told outright to the proper people with the right connections, it becomes a human interest story and draws people- some with similar histories- to the company,” Cynthia explains. At mine and Claire near-protests, Cynthia holds up her hand to forestall our arguments. “There are a couple of things you have to realize about Brian and his partner, Justin. Both of them have a certain notoriety, not only here on Liberty Avenue, but nationwide now.

"Kinnetik is the fastest growing small business on the east coast, is up for several CLIO Awards and its owner is fucking brilliant at what he does. That makes him a target, especially for the big boys of the Big Apple. Brian hasn’t even been settled into his own business a year. Yet his most lucrative accounts under Vanguard Advertising walked with him, when the partnership there was dissolved. It basically set the Advertising world on its ear, and will potentially cause problems within other companies with their own ambitious top executives. As for Justin Taylor, he is also up for several CLIO Awards for his work in graphic designs. Not only that, but he is the co-creator of one of the most lucrative comic book franchises in history…”

“You’re shitting me! He co-created Rage?” I ask, in shock.

“Yes, he did. As it stands right now, he will be the sole proprietor on record, as his former partner in the franchise is about to be charged with embezzlement along with some other hefty charges. So you see, Lindsay’s bullshit affects Brian and Justin in more ways than any of you can imagine.”

“Hopefully before she finds out, she will be sharing a cell with her imp, Michael. I promise to start tightening the noose a little more firmly around her scrawny swan neck. Claire and I have already begun to lay the groundwork, and the WASP nest is a veritable hive of activity, looking to get rid of her,” Lynette assures us.

“Well, I guess all that’s left for us to do, is tell Brian before the wicked witch can find out but… that means we also have to tell Joan Kinney,” Cynthia says.

“Now that is a conversation I am NOT looking forward to,” Claire states, as she slides down in her chair.

“Buck up, Darling. You now have back-up; both you and Brian.” Lynette raises her coffee mug in Claire’s direction and suddenly, I feel a little bit sorry for Joan.

VIC

The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get! I thought she was over this; thought she agreed to let Michael handle his own shit! For once, I wish she would take the fucking blinders completely OFF! Not only that, but throw the little bastards away. They are ruining her life, and for what… Some misguided idiot she happens to share DNA with?!

I know that if it were me, she would never have been as stalwart as this. And I’ve been through a lot more shit, covering for her ass along the way. How can Deb think that everyone should cloak and cover for Michael? Well, it’s time she faces the true consequences of her own actions… right along with his!

I walk up to the doorstep and ring the buzzer. Thinking that they are probably not going to answer the door, I reach for my cell phone and dial Justin. He answers, sounding sleepy.

“Hey Sunshine, it’s Vic. Sorry to disturb you guys, but let me up.”

“Vic, I…”

“No worries, little angel boy with the devilish left hook. I’m not here to defend Michael, or plead for you to drop the charges against him. I’m here to provide backup for you guys. Deb’s on her way here.”

Thirty seconds later, I rush in as I see a cab barrelling up the street. And the melodious sounds of my sister, right along with it. I almost feel sorry for the driver that was unfortunate enough to get her as a patron in her current state. Deb, in a calm mood, is almost too much to take sometimes. So I can just about imagine how the poor sod’s ears must be bleeding right about now.

Instead of waiting for the elevator, I mosey up the stairs as if I haven’t a care in the world. By the time I reach the fourth floor, I am slightly out of breath, partially because I stopped off at the third floor to press the elevator button to go up. It will take even longer and give Brian and Justin a chance to settle themselves.

“Come in, Vic. To what do we owe this dubious pleasure of your visit.”

“Dubious, huh?”

“Well, you are always welcome, but your sister right now... not so much. If she’s expecting me- us- to drop the cases against Michael or post his bail…”

“Can it, Kinney. I know this spiel. And I’m not here to ask, or demand, you do that. In fact, I agree with both of you, as I’ve said from the beginning of all this; my stance hasn’t changed. Michael made his bed, let him lie in it. In the end, he might actually become a man. My sister needs to understand that.”

I settle myself at the counter, as Justin places a cool glass in my hand. I’ve decided to let her say what it is she’s come to say. I actually want to see just how far and fast, she’s going to go in burning her bridges. I warn Brian and Justin of that very thing just before the banging and yelling at the door commences. “Open it, but keep a cool head and let’s see how far she’s willing to go.”

“But Vic, Deb is…”

“In this for no one but Michael, not even herself. It’s sad, but you have to realize the truth. No matter how much it hurts, you have to, for your own sakes.”

They both nod at me, and I can see the weariness set in their shoulders. It's evident that they have already prepared themselves for the inevitable fallout of not bowing down to Deb's edicts. It breaks my heart that my family will never be the same again due to the selfishness and egocentrism of others, but so be it. Michael and Lindsay are like cancers that have been allowed to grow unchecked; painful and persistent. They must be stopped!

“Deb, what a surprise. Well, you might as well come in,” Brian drawls lazily. Justin takes his hand and leads him over to the couch.

It’s funny what you notice about them, when you really take a look. Although Justin seems calm, looking closely, it isn’t hard to see the slight tremble in his form. He isn’t scared by any means, but the very definition of the flight or fight response. He’s so obviously already in fight mode. Brian sits down first, with his back against the arm of the couch.

Once he’s stretched his long limbs and is comfortable, Justin settles between his legs, back to chest, just before Brian wraps his arms and legs around him. From the look of them, I would imagine they’ve done this at least a thousand times, but never in the presence of anyone else. Just goes to show that all the experts on all things Brian and Justin really don’t know dick!

“Michael is in jail,” Deb states, glaring at them.

“Yes. We know,” Justin answers, his voice steady, and his own gaze never wavering from hers.

“Well, what are you prepared to do about it?” She puts her hands on her ample hips, tapping her foot as if she’s scolding naughty children.

“Nothing.”

“What the fuck do you mean, nothing?!”

“Just what I said, Deb. I’m not dropping the charges against him. In fact, after what I’ve learned this morning, I’ll be pressuring the DA’s office to make sure that, as their victim, Michael, and also Lindsay- whenever they arrest her- will get the fucking book thrown at them for every single fucking charge they’ll face!”

“Sunshine, please see reason here…”

“See reason?” Justin gasps, and I notice Brian tighten his hold on the young man just a bit more. “See reason, she says! Did Michael see reason at any time since knowing me? Did he, just once, give me the leniency you’re requesting that I show him? Did he offer me one modicum of compassion for any fucking thing that I have endured… by the way, most of it was at his fucking hands! So you can take that reason you’re asking me to see, and try seeing it yourself!”

“Brian, tell him to drop this shit right now!” Deb turns her attention to the man sitting behind the belligerent blond.

“No, Deb. I won’t. Michael has gotten away with too much, and he’s gone too far. In reality, it’s all of our faults for not realizing that he could do something like the things he’s done. We were all blind to him and to Lindsay, and all at Justin’s expense.”

“Bullshit! I know my son and these are trumped up charges if I’ve ever heard of them! He’s your best friend for fuck’s sake!”

“No, Deb. Michael is Lindsay’s best friend, not mine. My best friend, if I ever had one, would only want my happiness for me, not some prison of a relationship designed to make them happy while I’m miserable. How can you even stand there and defend what he’s done? You’ve suffered for his fucked up decisions, just as we have. But yet you stand there, and act like we shouldn’t stand up for ourselves against him. For what?”

“Fuck you, Brian! You forget that it was Michael who always took care of you! Driving you home when you were too drunk or drugged up; making sure that you had a safe haven in our house when your fucked up parents got a little heavy-handed. If it wasn’t for Michael, you would have never met me and Vic!”

“I’ll give you that, but it doesn’t mean that I owed Michael MY life and MY happiness. It doesn’t mean that I owe it to you either!”

“Yes, you do! You owe me! Your only importance was to keep Michael out of trouble, yet you couldn’t do it! Instead, you spent your time tricking, drugging, and leading Michael on at every turn. I’m sorry for the day he ever met you! I curse the day he ever brought you home with him! You’re nothing but a user, and you abused Michael’s feelings over and over again!”

“Well apparently the abuse worked both ways, Debbie. Yet the only reason Michael graduated high school was because of me. In exchange for cleaning me up, you charged me with not only the care and feeding of Michael Novotny, but as protection detail when his wagging tongue would have had the bullies after him. In exchange for your kind and loving advice, you charged me with putting my wants, needs, and aspirations on hold, so that your underachieving, scholastically-challenged, comic book geek of a son would feel good about himself. For a meal, you charged me to take all of the blame when he would get into trouble, to let him live vicariously through me while he sat safe within his bubble, attached to your apron strings.

"Well Deb, for all you’ve done for me, I would say that I have paid you back more than Michael was ever worth. Not only that, but Justin has paid dearly, almost with his fucking life, because in the world according to Deb, everyone must be miserable except Michael! I’m fucking done, do you hear me? DONE! If having you in my life means that I have to bow to your wishes by rolling over and playing dead for Michael to keep fucking me over, then FUCK YOU and HIM! I’ve had enough!”

“It’s time for you to leave, Deb. Go be with Michael in his supposed hour of need. Seems he has those a lot at everyone else’s expense, except his own,” Justin says.

I swear the boy looks like he’s glowing with anger as he stares at her, yet his voice is so damn calm and controlled. Must be all that WASP training. He really needs to teach me that Jedi mind-tricking shit!

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Deb screeches.

“It means that while you are taking care of him, and once again, putting his needs above your own, you are about to lose everything. The truth is Michael is going to jail. They will not withdraw not one single fucking charge against him and even if they did, I would sue him privately in civil court. All of the evidence against Michael is well documented; the cases against him are airtight. You can thank Lindsay for being so thorough in setting your baby boy up, but no… she won’t get away either.

"As for you, Deb, I can’t speak for Brian, but what you’ve shown me is that I mean absolutely nothing to you beyond what I can do for Michael. Well, since I am doing nothing for him except letting him be held accountable for his wrongdoings, you mean absolutely nothing to ME. Not anymore. But I will do this one last thing for you, Deb. Brian, can you give Deb the stack of papers with the envelope please?”

Brian reaches out from the couch, with Justin still nestled within this arm and legs. He hands Debbie a thick sheaf of papers. I wonder what they are as I didn’t see them sitting there before now.

“What is this?” She asks, and I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting to find out.

“Michael’s defense attorney was by here a little while ago. I am now the sole owner of Rage and Red Cape Comics, but those papers there are giving you back one of the things he took from you. Sadly, I can’t give you back your own mind and soul; those you have to take back from him for yourself. But I can give you back your house. And that’s the only thing here left to offer you, Deb. Please leave,” he says quietly, and although I know he’s angry as all hell, he’s also hurt. Brian eyes have welled up as well.

As I look at both men, all I see is sadness and finality. Deb looks at both of them, but it’s when she freezes, that I know she sees it, too. “Brian… Sunshine…”

“No, Deb. You don’t get to call me that anymore. That nickname is only to be used by the people who love me. Thank you for giving it to me, but please never speak it again. I loved you, Deb; we both did. But what you’re demanding that we do… well sometimes love just isn’t enough.”  

I look upon this scene with tears in my own eyes, and I know it’s time for me to do what I’ve come to do. “It’s time to go, Sis.”

“Vic? What are you doing here? When did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time, but you were so focused on getting your point across to Brian and Justin that you didn’t notice me at the counter. I have to say, I’m incredibly disappointed. We both agreed that Michael needed to own his shit, but here you are. Well, I hope that knowing Michael will have three hots and a cot in prison will be enough for you, because it’s going to have to be.”

“What are you talking about? Michael is just in jail, for now!”

“Wake up from that dream world you’ve been living in, will you Deborah Jane Grassi?! Michael is going to go to prison. He can’t not go for all the shit he’s done! This will not be another Hobbs situation. In fact, he’s not about to escape punishment again either. And before you even think of putting up the house to post bail for Michael, don’t! Besides, you might not have any other place to live by the time this is all finished. Carl isn’t going to take kindly to you making him choose between your son and his badge. Quite frankly, the job is more loyal. Now it’s time to go!” I usher her to the wide-open portal of the loft before she has a chance to say anything else. “Guys, I’ll be in touch. Love you both!” And amid her protestations, I haul her down the stairs, not in the mood to be in any type of closed space with my sister.