CHAPTER 78: THEORIES AND SUPPOSITIONS

BRANDON

Is it strange that seeing the Kings like this makes me feel a bit… protective? I mean, Brian Kinney has always been deemed a mystery, and as elusive as trying to hold onto mist. In fact, the same can also be said of Justin, who often appears to be sweet and serene, but by all accounts he’s a man, whose bite is actually much worse than the proverbial bark. Yet with each other, they are as transparent as the clearest scotch tape on the market. Well, that is, if one knows what to look for. 

As I’m driving them back to the loft, I can’t help but notice the large hand casually careening through the overlong blond locks of the young man whose eyes are closed. Sure, I’ve heard the stories of how they got together. I’ve heard, and in some small ways witnessed how rocky things were between them at times due to their own stalwart personalities. But it’s how and why they stay together that has me both fascinated and flummoxed. It’s not that they don’t compliment each other in every way, but the fact that in our world, it’s just very rare that an idealist and a realist are able to make things work.

“What’s on your mind, Sweetie?” Em asks as he laces our fingers together.

“Just wondering what it is that keeps Brian and Justin together, and fighting.”

Em smiles that million dollar smile at me. “Well that’s easy, honey. It’s love, plain and simple. But… well, we both know that the road to true love is never easy or paved with fucking unicorn horns and rainbows. And knowing what I know of the two men in your backseat, their road won’t get any easier.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because it’s just who they are, Bran. They fight hard, they fuck hard, they love hard, and they are two of the most stubborn people you will ever really come to know.” He smiles briefly before frowning in my direction. “But what’s bringing on all this introspection and in-depth look into their relationship such as it is? Did something else come out of your talk with Carl that we should know about?”

Thankfully, we’ve arrived at the loft, so it gives me a few minutes to formulate an adequate response. I want to disclose everything, but I know that I can’t do that without jeopardizing the case we’re building. However, I know that I have to tell them at least some of what’s going on. Brian and Justin have had enough surprises lately; I don’t think they will deal well with another one. In fact, I think that’s part of the reason for Justin’s meltdown tonight, although neither of them have said anything to that effect. 

Before I’m even able to put the car in park, Brian opens the passenger door on his side. “Give us about ten minutes, and then come up.”

“Why?” I ask even as Emmett says, “The hell I will, Brian. I don’t want to leave Baby,”

Brian glares for a moment, before looking back at me. “I need to ask you some very direct questions.”

“You know I can’t answer them,” I hedge, but he shakes his head.

“These you can. I promise you I won’t ask anything that could jeopardize the cases against those assholes. It’s just… Justin and I keep walking head first into shit. Although we will be in California on business, it doesn’t change the fact that there is a house there that was meant to be- for lack of a better term- my eternal prison.”

“Brian…”

“No, Emmett. I understand that now in ways even you probably don’t know about just yet. What I’m asking of you, Brandon, is for confirmation of the facts as told to me by Justin before… Well, just before. I’ll even make it easy on you and repeat it word for word since it’s been spinning around in my head ever since I forced it out of him earlier.”

I nod. “Are you sure you really want to know?” 

I have to ask, even knowing that if it were me, I’d want someone I trust to rip off the bandaid, rather than hear it all for the first time from the voice of the D.A. Or worse yet would be to hear it all for the first time in court with that smug asshole looking back at me, virtually willing me to fall apart in front of him. So yes, if I was in Brian’s shoes, I would want to know everything that could be told to me. I would want the time to get myself together before I would be mandated to put on a brave face for the masses, even while my world is once again imploding right before my eyes. And in this case, it’s the only viable form of self-defense he has at the moment since killing the fuckers responsible isn’t an option. 

“I can see that you and I understand each other, Officer,” Brian says as he looks at me knowingly.

“That’s all fine, well, and good, Brian, but again about Baby. Why ten minutes?” Emmett interrupts again. It isn’t hard to discern the worry coming off of him in waves.

Brian regards him stoically, but kindly. “Trust me, Em. You don’t want to be up there while I put Justin to bed. You’ll just worry more.”

“Brian…” Justin breathes and it’s then that I have a clear indication of what Brian will have to do in order to get Justin safely to the bed before his headache kicks in. I look at the time, and realize that he only has mere minutes before it does.

“You’d better go, Brian. We’ll give you the space you need. See you in ten.”

He nods at me, while half-carrying Justin to the door. I don’t think I’d ever really understood the metaphor of human octopus until just this moment as I watch Brian simultaneously keep Justin from stripping in the middle of the sidewalk, while deftly dodging the young man’s hands trying to pinch and squeeze in what would be all the right ways if he were sober. There’s no doubt that Brian is going to have a motherfuck of a hard time trying to get Justin flushed of the drugs enough so he can push his migraine med into him. But I also won’t deny that I would have liked nothing better at this moment than to be a fly on the wall of the loft to see him do it. I couldn’t help the chuckle at the imagery assailing me.

“What are you thinking?” Em asked me in that mildly accusatory way he has.

“Just that I would be prepared for a lot of loud crashes and booms to be heard down here.” I laugh a little harder, knowing that I’m right.

“Why would you say… Oh my God! Brian’s NOT about to do what I think he’s going to do, is he?!” Emmett exclaimed, as he makes to move out of the car. I stay him by the arm, even while he struggled to break free. “Baby is in no condition for THAT!”

“No, he isn’t. But then again, he is incredibly horny, high, and determined. Emmett, how much do you know about the mix of drugs that go through Lorenzo’s club?”

“Usually it’s just your standard trail mix of the alphabet drugs that go through there.” he shrugs.

“And for special cases, like Justin? Is it just the standard fare then? I mean after all, Justin is extraordinarily obstinate and recalcitrant, isn’t he?”

I can see the moment when my implication registers beyond his main focus. He huffs and shoves himself moodily back into the passenger seat of the car. “Okay, you are correct, but why does Brian have to do that?”

“So that he’ll buy himself enough time to push the required water and medication into Justin. Emmett, in extreme cases like Justin’s migraines, there are several theories. Of course, sex can reduce the tensions formed by releasing endorphins, but from what I know about Justin’s brand of headaches, Brian is working to stop the major one which will trigger all the others.”

“You’re talking greek to me, Brandon. I’m only aware of headaches in the general sense, and then migraines which I always get when I’m extremely stressed.”

I nod at him in understanding. “I was that way, too, until my sister was diagnosed with mixed migraine headache disorder. It works differently for everyone who has it, meaning that some have more than ten headaches a month, while others have a continually dull ache in their heads everyday. Consequently, it’s those two types of headaches which invite all the others to act a damn fool in a sense. Cluster headaches are unpredictable by nature. However, when they are preceded by what is known as a thunderclap headache, they become downright crippling. To give you some idea of how serious it is, that sudden sharp pain is often confused with the urgency of a stroke. It only lasts for anywhere from sixty seconds to five minutes, but in that short amount of time, it acts almost like a siren call to all the other headaches and they attack at once.”

“So in that ten minutes that Brian asked for, what will he be doing?”

“Trying to get Justin into the shower to cool his skin off, first and foremost. I would imagine that the blond feels like a furnace from the inside out by now. Then, he’ll have to do whatever he has to do in order to get enough water into Justin so he can give him the Maxalt. It should at least keep the thunderclap at bay… well, at least that’s the hope. With the amount of drugs and alcohol Justin consumed tonight- an amount Brian is still unsure of, by the way- there’s no telling what the effect might be. Ordinarily, I know he wouldn’t even think to give the headache med to Justin in his present state…”

“Then why is he?”

“Because if he doesn’t, Justin could be that much more at risk for a stroke. These types of headaches can lead to a condition called Intracranial Hypertension, which is far worse than you can imagine, Em.”

“And how do you know so much about this again?”

“My sister suffers with them. When she was first diagnosed, it was because of a thunderclap, then cluster headaches that were so out of control that the hospital staff was fighting to keep her from stroking out. After the diagnosis came, she and I did all the research we possibly could on the two conditions. The only plus in Justin’s favor so far is that he takes his Norco everyday. Daphne told me that when I had asked her some questions about Justin’s rumored drug use in the past.”

“When was that?”

“When Novotny was first brought in due to filing a false report, and was then transferred after being denied bail. I was assigned by Carl to do some preliminary investigation- off the record- into the matter, since at the time, he was working on the burglary case regarding Debbie’s house. I couldn’t get ahold of Justin so I talked her up. She was all too happy to tell me about the ongoing feud between Michael and Justin that not even Liberty Avenue was really privy to. And everything else I’ve learned, was through my own observations and conversations with you guys that helped me gain a clearer picture of what and whom I was protecting.”

“So let me ask you… if you and I had never started dating, you would still be doing what you’re doing now for Brian and Justin?”

“Yeah, Em, I would. It’s not only because it’s my job, but because I respect those two men up there. They live by a code, same as me. How could I not protect their rights to live their lives in the manner that they see fit, even as I safeguard my own? I may be a lot of things, Emmett. But I am not now, nor will I ever be a hypocrite.”

He leaned over and kissed me, soft and gently at first. But then he changed the tenor of it, letting me know exactly what he thought of all that I had revealed to him. It felt good to know that he understood me in a way that no one else could; that he knows I never saw Brian and Justin as the competition, but as men to emulate. But while others continue to sit around and speculate about Brian and Justin drawing me into this tight-knit group as a replacement for his idiotic best friend, the man continuing to kiss me and I know differently. The truth is that I found my own Sunshine in Emmett, and I’m not letting him go anytime soon.

Drawing back from the kiss, Em nudges my nose with his own. “You’re a good man, Brandon Greene.”

I smile at him in a way that I know I’ve reserved only for Emmett Honeycutt. “Following Vic’s advice was the best thing I’ve done to date.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. After all, you did some pretty amazing things to me earlier today.” We both laugh at the memory of my surprise visit into the kitchen of his apartment, and a heretofore unreturned Zorro outfit. Might just have to borrow that one indefinitely. I watch regretfully as the worry creeps back into Emmett’s face. “It’s been a little more than ten minutes. Do you think we should go up now?”

“Yes, if for no other reason then to ease your mind. I don’t want you to misunderstand, Em; I’m concerned about Justin, too.”

“I know. I’m just glad that Master Alvin instructed Chipmunk to call me, otherwise we might not have known what was going on until it was too late for us to help either of them. Baby means the world to me. So does Big Bad, but I try to only tell him that when it really counts. It makes him itch and break out in hives otherwise.”

We got out of the car, and pushed the intercom on the door. Brian didn’t hesitate to push the answering buzzer to allow us entry. Part of me was anxious to see how Justin was, but the other half of me was actually scared to find out. It’s a fucked up day when you find yourself wishing that this situation had happened on the dancefloor of Babylon instead of at Lorenzo’s. And an even weirder day when you suddenly realize that in comparison to Lorenzo De Laurentis, Gary Sapperstein could be looked at as having scruples.

That thought froze me in my tracks on the way to the elevator. Emmett noticed, and immediately grabbed my hand. “You okay?”

“Just having a few scary thoughts about how all of this could have played out, Em. I don’t know if Justin was born under a bad moon, or if the universe just likes fucking with him.” I shake my head, before continuing. “But I do know that he got really lucky tonight.”

“I think Lorenzo also got lucky, Brandon.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because if what almost happened to Justin actually did, Lorenzo wouldn’t have been safe from anyone, but especially Brian. Justin may have earned to moniker of mini-Rage, but I’m willing to bet the original is much worse, especially when it comes to his Sunshine. No one would have wanted to see Brian in jail, especially NOT the one Michael is currently residing in… Speaking of which, you don’t think…”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so, Em. But we’re constantly learning not to rule things out when it comes to Novotny.”

“So how much are you going to tell Brian about your talk with Carl?”

“As much as I can. But it has to be a situation where he asks me a question directly. I can’t volunteer anything. Hell, the only reason you know is because you were with me, putting the pieces together before I bought our collective speculation along with the suppositions I garnered from Sap’s house and club to Carl. But unless Brian asks...”

“I know,” he says, softly. “But if I were to…”

“You can’t, Em. It could compromise the cases that Michael has against him; Lance and Lindsay’s too, since I suspect one or both of them were involved that night. We’re still waiting for the undefined sample to be reexamined and put through the database. But without solid proof, mentioning it to Brian would only get his hopes up for a resolution that might never come. You understand what that could do to him, don’t you?”

He nods at me, resolutely, but sadly. And I can’t deny that I feel the same way. It’s times like this that I wish I already had my degree in forensic science so that I could go ahead and run the damn tests myself. Instead, I have to wait for them to be run for conclusive results. The only saving grace at this point is that neither of the three know we have that sample, or theirs to test against; that in their collective arrogance, ignorance will no longer be considered bliss. 

We arrive at the top floor landing to find Brian standing there. I’m almost tempted to ask how much he overheard, but I refrain. He looks exhausted, but somehow he still exudes his usual sex appeal. If we didn’t all know better, one would think that he was awaiting his trick du jour for the evening, since he’s standing there with this subtle note of impatience and anticipation. But he’s not giving off the predatory vibe he usually does, unless it’s for the answers he’s seeking. Again, I marvel at this Brian, who everyone has seen at some point, but very few really know they have.

“Hey, Brian. Did you call Sebastian, Jake, and Trey yet?” Emmett asks him, as we enter the loft.

“Yeah, I did. They were all relieved and told me to call if I needed anything else.”

Emmett nods. “They’re all good men. And Baby… how is he?”

“Finally sleeping.”

“Can I?”

“Yeah, Em. You can. Let me know if he wakes up or whimpers in his sleep will you?”

“It’s going to be one of those types of nights, huh?”

Brian drops his eyes, before responding. “Yes. In some ways it’s already started. He was afraid to go to sleep.”

“Why is that?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

Brian crossed over to the bar, just as Emmett reached the top of the three steps leading to the platform in the bedroom. I watched as Emmett eased himself down onto what I would assume is Brian’s side of the bed, and lay down next to Justin. I could see the tears glistening in Emmett’s eyes, as he stroked the blond hair gently. Brian stood still, also watching with a myriad of emotions flitting across his face. Shaking himself out of his reverie, Brian offered to pour me a glass of Beam, which I readily accepted.

After taking the seat across from me, where he could still see directly into his bedroom, Brian says, “In reference to your question about Justin’s fear of going to sleep right now, it’s because of the residual nightmares he’s had since his prom. Not all of them are the same. However, they occur the most violently when he’s been drinking and drugging, especially due to extreme stress and anger.”

“I would imagine they are occurring more frequently at this juncture?”

“They are,” he answers stoically before taking a gulp of the amber liquid. I don’t acknowledge the slight tremble of his hand, but I do wonder about it.

So instead, I ask, “And how are you holding up?”

“I’m not.”

“You look as if you are to me.”

Brian chuckles bitterly. “Don’t tell me you buy into the illusion too, along with the rest of the herd?”

I chuckle back. “No, I don’t. I just like to let people like you live in their own illusion of invincibility. Saves me thousands of dollars on therapy bills.”   

He raises his glass in my direction. “Touche, Officer. And might I tell you that the twat over there would wholeheartedly agree with you.”

And that was my queue to ask, “What drove him over the edge tonight, Brian? Of all the nights past, what caused him to go head first into Pain Management 101?”

“The simple answer to that would be... me.” He shrugs and then sighs loudly, before pouring himself another drink from the bottled he’d brought over to the coffee table. “You know, I’ve done some pretty shitty things to him in the past. I won’t deny it, and I don’t regret any of it since it made us into the partners we are today. But this… yeah, I fucked up big time and as a result it sent Justin on the worst bender he’s been on to date.”

He then proceeded to tell me about the conversation earlier that evening, prior to him storming out. At first, I’m not going to lie, I wanted to knock some fucking sense into him. I swear the man is the KING of self-sabotage! But once he told me that Justin reassured him that it wasn’t what Brian thought, I felt the same short-lived relief he so obviously felt. But then he had to go and ruin it by telling me that he accused Justin of lying to him by omission. 

“Wait a minute, Brian. Just what the hell was Justin supposed to tell you?” When he answered, I just shook my head at him. Ironically enough, this situation was close to the same exact reason I didn’t want to tell Brian about us running the labs until we were sure of the results. But I just had to know this… “And what would your response have been then, Bri? Hell, look at what it was tonight!”

“You think I don’t realize that Justin’s point of view is all too valid? Unfortunately, I keep proving that he was right, no matter how reluctant I am to admit it. I would have called him a liar and yeah, I would have accused him of being jealous; would have told him to get over his snit or hit the bricks. I’m not proud of it, especially knowing what I know now about the situation. But that’s also why I wanted to talk to you, Brandon.”

“Why? Looking for absolution for being an asshole?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, before he sighed again. “Okay, granted I deserve that, and probably much more.”

“Well considering the string of bite marks, and bruises that you’re sporting right now, I would imagine that you having to deal with Justin in such a state was punishment enough.”

“Yeah, and in ways I can’t even begin to describe.” And even though he has a sort of haunted look in his eyes, I can tell that it’s also mixed with some of the most salacious thoughts and memories he’ll ever have. I wonder how he’ll deal with the aftermath of when Justin wakes up and actually sees the damage he’s done to Brian’s battered body. It must be hell is all I can think as I watch his eyes refocus on the task at hand. “So I need you to tell me- to confirm- what Justin was unsure of.”

“What exactly?”

“I didn’t have time… Or more accurately, I didn’t have the patience to address the fact that Justin mentioned Jason Kemp and the possibility that this is all linked to him somehow. Again, not something I’m proud of since it led to this evening’s binge. But how much truth is there to what Justin suspects?”

I closed my eyes, knowing that this was my own moment of truth regarding Brian. If I didn’t disclose what I know, I could lose the trust that he’s so willingly placed in me. That emotion, I’ve learned, is a very fragile thing within this enigmatic man sitting across from me. But now I also have to think about what it could mean to my job. If I give away too much, I could blow this case, and I tell him so.

“I can’t give you all the particulars, only that Justin is right about the syringes and vials found in the apartment he shared with Lance Freeman. And yes, the same brand of syringes and vials were found at the building formerly known as Red Cape Comics. We already know that there was also one found in Reichart’s car and that Jason Kemp’s DNA was found in there as well…”

“And you’re tap dancing around the truth. Why?” Brian asked, quietly.

I sigh in response, before answering as best I could. “Because there are other factors here that we are unsure of. There were some other samples found on Jason Kemp’s body that at the time couldn’t be determined where they came from.”

“And now they can?”

“We’re working on it, but it is way too premature to speculate on any of it. If it makes you feel better, we’re looking at this from all angles, Brian. We’re not leaving any piece of evidence no matter how miniscule to chance.”

“I detect a but at the end of your sentence though.”

“That’s because there is… The thing is, Brian, that all we have right now is hearsay, and conjecture. However, it’s pretty fucking BIG and would fit into a lot of missing pieces in this ever-growing puzzle. We’re also still going over the tapes recovered from Freeman’s house in North Carolina.”

“You mean there was more to his collection than just my ass plowing into my conquests?”

“Yeah, there is. If Lance had stayed on the up and up, I can tell you that he would have made one helluva government agent where computers and other electronic equipment was concerned. Consequently, he was able to take control of just about any device remotely from his home.”

“What does that have to do with…” Brian lets his sentence trail off, and I can see that agile mind beginning to work overtime putting the pieces of what I can’t say together. “You mean to tell me that not only did the fucker stalk my private life via camera feed, but he might have aided in covering up the murder of Jason Kemp?”

“It is a theory, yes. Although it hasn’t been proven as of yet.”

“And Michael? You think that he was also instrumental in the young man’s death?”

“Honestly, I can’t see a doubt in anyone’s mind about that, except for putting him there physically.”

“So the drug found in his system…”

“Rohypnol, and quite a large dose. Not enough to kill him, but certainly enough to incapacitate him.”

“FUCK!” Brian yelled, before instantly calming himself when he saw the involuntary shiver assail Justin. “Justin said that Michael had planned to kidnap me, Brandon. I actually laughed when he said that, wondering aloud how Michael intended to do that. But from all accounts, that with the exception of the blond hair, Jason and I were built similarly. I wonder if he was Michael’s first crash test dummy so to speak.”

I looked at him closely then, because that actually made sense. Jason Kemp was six-foot-one, and although skinny to look at, he was still a solid one-hundred and sixty-one pounds. Brian is six-two and if I’m not mistaken, a muscled one-hundred and seventy, with two percent body fat if that. Crash test dummy, indeed! “I have to talk to Carl about this, but he’s going to be in California by tomorrow. I’m scheduled to go at the end of the week. I’ll probably try to get it moved so that I can be there when they enter that house.”

“You think you’ll find more evidence to support mine and Justin’s theories there?” Brian asks, before he takes another sip of Beam.

I do the same before answering. “I’m almost damned sure that we will, Brian. Although I wish it were different, I think everything we spoke about tonight is going to be confirmed… one way or another.”