CHAPTER ONE: REFLECTIONS and DECISIONS

JUSTIN:

It’s unbelievable to think that we are back together. I stayed with Ethan for six months after the Rage party. Honestly, I can’t say that I wouldn’t still be with him if he hadn’t fucked up as he had. It’s not that I loved him; I gave away my heart a long time ago to the man snoozing beside me. But it’s more about what Ethan offered me: monogamy, sweet words that for some reason I needed to hear, and most of all, a break from what had become my reality. Between the constant tricking and Michael's chronic whining demands, I just needed… something more, something different. It’s hard to explain, but being with Brian just became too hard for a while, even if that’s all I ever wanted to do. I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin, and was confused within my own mind. It’s no wonder that I couldn’t read him anymore, and that scared me.

You see, the thing about Brian is that he’s the very personification of the adage actions speak louder than words. When I think of all that he’s done for me, both willingly and reluctantly since I met him, I knew that he cared a great deal for me. I mean, I can’t imagine any other guy going to the lengths Brian has gone to make me feel whole again after Chris Hobbs smashed my self-image at the crack of a baseball bat. The fact that, at Mom’s behest, he took me back in to nurse and nurture me back to a state of wellness was huge. It was that act alone which should have proved to everyone that Brian was not the selfish asshole certain members of the family call him. Looking back on it now, I can’t understand why I was given a free pass to be as fucked up as they claimed him to be, yet they blamed him for everything. And worst of all, is that he just took what they said as gospel. It still pisses me off.

Anyway, at the time that I basically begged him for the words I most wanted to hear, I felt that I had lost myself entirely. I just needed to know that I was different than the others, that I meant something to him, and that he was still my anchor. I just needed to know that I was different from all the rest of the tricks Michael constantly refered to me as when he thought I couldn’t hear him. After all, he needed me to work on Rage, and calling me that to my face would have killed the comic instantly. It still should have, but due to the trauma of the bashing I was actually starting to believe he was right. How could I have explained all of this to Brian when at the time I couldn’t even make myself believe I was more than that? Strangely, it took Ethan cheating on me- or more accurately, breaking his promise of monogamy to me- for me to remember just who I was. I was, and am, Brian’s partner in all things, whether he admits it or not. I’m his equal in all the ways that matter. Now the question is, how do I make him see it?

BRIAN:

I wonder what he’s thinking. The hyperactive hamsters in his head woke me up with their constant rattling and racing around. It’s strange, but I’ve come to acknowledge that Justin and I have this interminable connection. It allows me to know when he’s restless, even if he gives no overt indication that he is. It’s how I knew we were ending before the signs ever began to show. On the surface, I understand why the fiddler happened. Justin was discontent with the way things were between us. I wasn’t blind, nor deaf, especially in the silent moments. So Michael telling me that Justin was cheating didn’t come as so much of a shock as it might have to another person. But that knowledge didn’t stop the hurt.

Yes, I can admit it now that I was hurt. It seemed that with all of the actions to make him feel safe and whole again, I’d forgotten one thing about Justin. He needed words. It wasn’t just a bone-deep need for communication; it was that he wasn’t able to read me anymore. I guess his stint into the Land of Bad Decisions should have been my first clue. Becoming a dancer at Babylon was just such a moment. Then there were our rules, which would have been okay if we were really ready for them. The one good part of it was that my lips haven’t touched any other man’s but his, and strangely, I don’t miss that. But the rest… yeah, we- or more accurately, he- wasn’t ready for it. I can’t help but wonder if he is now.

The thing is, I don’t want to share him right now. We’ve just gotten back together… another thing that I’ve recently been able to admit, if only to myself, is that Justin and I were in a relationship. We still are, but Justin and I literally fell into a relationship the first time, even if I was and still am a little reluctant to call it that outside of the confines of my mind. Neither of us were prepared for all that meant to our existence as we had known it. He was young and inexperienced; I was older but just as inexperienced, at least emotionally. No locks on the doors ensured that he would always be as free as I was to make the best decisions for himself. Sadly, that theory also took him away from me as a long-ago trick predicted. ‘The thing about leaving the door open is that anyone can get in… or out’ he told me, and that little slimy fucker Ian had crept his little scuzzbucket ass right in and sucked Sunshine into his web of lies. It was definitely a lesson both hard-learned and received in one of the most humiliating of ways. I blame myself for that. In forcing Justin to make a decision, I made the ultimate sacrifice. I traded his happiness for my own. Something Justin would have never asked me to do, but I did anyway.

So, whereas I am ready to try this thing again with him full-on, I have to wonder if he wants to. Right now, we’re solid. We haven’t talked, but we know what to expect of each other. Is it too soon to start putting stipulations when in reality this is still so new?

“Why aren’t you still asleep?” He asks me.

“With your tossing and turning, how could you expect me to be?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“I know, Justin. So what is it?”

“It?”

I turn on my side to look at him as he’s still laying on his back staring up at the ceiling. “You really going to make me ask?”

He sighs deeply then. “I just…”

“Spit it out. One of the things we expect… Actually we’ve always expected, is honesty from each other.”

“But I’ve lied, Brian.”

“With words, yes you did,” I tell him, not giving him an inch to hide behind. “But it wasn’t only in what you said, Sunshine, but what you didn’t.”

“A lie is still a lie, whether admitted, committed, or omitted, right?”

“That’s right. So again, what’s bothering you?”

“You first.”

“But I asked, so you have to answer.”

“What are we? Twelve?”

“Well you’re closer to that age than I am, so spill.”

He rolls his eyes at me, and I’m tempted to spank him. He huffs, “Fine, but can we go over to the…”

He closes his eyes as he suddenly remembers that we no longer have a sofa. That’s right. Justin and I got back together and now we’re broke together. Thank God, I’d paid off my loft long before Jim Stockwell happened and I lost my job at Vanguard. And yet, looking at him lying here next to me, I don’t regret any of it. He was right when he said that if you believe in something, you have to be willing to sacrifice everything. Somehow, I get the feeling now that he wasn’t just talking about Stockwell and the Concerned Citizens for Truth episode of our lives, but how we are now. Justin doesn’t allow me to wallow in self-pity or regrets; he doesn’t allow me to get down on myself because saving our way of life here on Liberty Avenue has cost me everything; and he most certainly doesn’t let me remember the halcyon days of when I had money to burn and spend. He insists that we live in the now, and redefine what that means. To redesign our lives the way we want them, and to rebuild in whatever way that means for us. I have begun to accept that there isn’t an ‘I’ or ‘you’ between us anymore. We’re both invested in this, which is more than I can say for my supposed best friends.

Is it strange that I haven’t heard from Michael once since I lent him my car to save the littlest hustler from his very own Mommy Dearest? Nor have I heard the ever-growing litany from Lindsay of Gus’ needs, even in terms of saving money by letting me be Gus’ personal daycare while I’m currently unemployed? Ted’s defection, I can understand, since he’s away getting clean. Even Em’s I can understand, since he’s trying to redesign his life after living with an addict for a time. But unlike Michael or Lindsay, Emmett has called. Even Melanie has called to ask if we need anything, and at least has arranged a little Gus time with Justin and I. Deb and Vic drop by with food, and dessert for Justin, which I snatch a bite or two from. So why haven’t the self-proclaimed sentinels of all things Brian Kinney made their appearances? My guess is that there is nothing I can do for them now. The fact that I’m one-hundred thousand dollars in debt saving their rights from a modern day Hitler should have been enough but... well that’s that, I guess. But back to the matter at hand…

“Tell you what, Sunshine. Let’s grab the blankets and a couple of pillows then sit in the alcove of the window. It may not be as comfortable as the sofa, but if we’re going to talk, being in a bed with you is not going to be conducive to that.”

“Wordlessly, he gets up grabbing the pillows and comforter off the bed. After a trip to the bathroom, I go to the linen closet and grab an extra sheet and the duvet from our first night together. We haven’t used it much in the last year, but I think it’s befitting at this juncture. If Justin and I are going to have the kind of conversation I want to, we might as well have an item from where it all began. Sentimental, I know, but don’t tell anyone.

By the time I make it out to the living room, he already has coffee brewing. Thank God for Mother Taylor! She knew that us not having a coffee maker was a recipe for major disaster. If there is one thing that Justin and I cannot be, it’s uncaffeinated. In addition to that key item, she also gave us computer to go along with the one I had bought Justin and paid for our internet service for the next six months. She said that it wasn’t as much as she’d like to do for us, but it was at least a start.

As for Deb- she, Mel, and Vic are the only other people to know what Justin and I did regarding Stockwell, and they promised to keep it quiet. We weren’t looking for notoriety or gratitude, just the selfish right to be able live life as we wanted. The way we see it, we’re not looking to become like the heteros, but we’re not going to let anyone hinder those that want to. At base, that’s the reason why we did what we did; to not let anyone make our community feel like less than what we are… humans!

Justin hands me my coffee and then settles into our favorite talk position. He’d already moved the crate, which has been serving as our coffee table, closer so we can sit the beverages down when we need to. I take a moment to settle the heavy blankets around us, making sure that his right hand is covered. He still has trouble with it when it gets cold and I don’t want any unnecessary distractions while we figure out what we want to do. Of course if his hand still cramps up due to stress, that’s something that can’t be helped. But at least taking precautions now lessens the likelihood of that happening.

“So what did you want to talk about?” he asks me, staring out of the window. I’m not sure if it’s at the moonlight reflecting off the river, or at our reflections.

“What’s bothering you.”

“It’s nothing really…”

“But?”

“I just…”

“Okay. Let me start with this,” I suggest, when I know he’s struggling. He does that sometimes when he doesn’t know how I’m going to take what he needs to say. All I can think is when did that start and how the fuck do I stop it? So taking deep breath, I say the words that I never in a million years thought I would. “I want us to try monogamy...”    

CHAPTER TWO: REVELATIONS

BRIAN:

Well, it’s out there now. Right out in the open, and you know what… I don’t want to take it back. That has to mean something, right? The only trouble is that I felt him stiffen, so maybe he doesn’t want that. I mean, we’ve only been back together for two months. Maybe he’s feeling like we’ll be getting in over our heads or some shit like that. And perhaps we are but… this is what I want. The only question is: Does he?

“Brian, I…”

“It’s okay, Sunshine,” I say, trying to hide the hurt.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but… are you sure this is what you want?” He swallows hard.

“It’s what I want,” I answer simply.

I can tell that he’s tamping down a flood of emotions. And that fact that I know that makes me feel like I should check to see if I’ve grown a twat. I’m not known for being a sensitive guy. In fact, regardless of anyone else’s opinion, I can indeed be an asshole. But it’s with the best of intentions most of the time. I just refuse to see anyone that I even remotely have a modicum of like for living beneath their full potential, and I tell them so. If that’s what makes me an asshole, then I’ll wear the fucking title proudly.

“Okay, so how do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do we need rules?”

“Other than to keep our dicks out of other people’s asses, I don’t see the need for them. Besides, we’re more likely to break them than we are to keep them. The simple fact that we’re giving this another try is a testament to that.”

He thinks about what I’ve just said. It’s true. We are known to break rules. Aside from the virgin incident and the chin-rat aside, there aren’t many lines he hasn’t crossed in terms of my own self-appointed rules. When I think about it, he’s broken every single one of them, and I broke my own rules by letting him. By that definition, we’re rebels. We don’t operate successfully within the scope of everybody else’s norms. It’s when we try to that that everything else gets fucked up.

“True, but… Brian, I don’t want everyone all over this.”

“And by everyone, you mean Michael?”

Once again, he swallows hard. I’m beginning to wonder just how many times he’s curbed his thoughts and spoken words about him. I mean, I know that Michael has been less than gracious welcoming Justin into the family, but I thought they were past all that hoopla. After all, Michael has Ben and Hunter to consider now. His focus should be there.

“Him nor Lindsay.” He must see the surprise on my face at the mention of my son’s mother, because after a short pause, he continues. “Brian, if we do this, both of their fantasies come crashing down around them- his more than hers. In their eyes, I’ll be more than the twink that wouldn’t leave or Poor Justin, beautifully naive Justin. I’ll be an interloper, the man that ruined you…”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I am genuinely puzzled by his reasoning.

“Take Michael, for example. As long as you’re around, the mean shit he does and says when you’re not there, never gets spoken. He’s fucking angel-boy instead of Captain Asshole. As for Lindsay, she gets to indulge her heteronormative fantasies as long as you remain single and unattached. You should see her when you go to visit Gus. It’s why Mel has had problems with you. It’s not that she doesn’t like you per se, but what you represent to Lindsay. So it’s my theory that with them knowing, they will do anything- and I mean ANY-FUCKING-THING to make sure we don’t succeed at this. How long will this be for anyway?”

“I was thinking we start small… like say, a month and then reevaluate from there.”

“And if one of us falls off the wagon during that time?”

“We start the count again.”

“In order for this to succeed, we have to talk, Brian. Can you honestly handle that?”

Now I know why he’s asking that. I’m not known for being overly communicative. But I do acknowledge that it’s where we went wrong the last time. “Can you? I mean there are bound to be things that we have to say which will piss the other off. Can you be honest?” I can tell he’s thinking about the start of this conversation, weighing his options carefully against his wants and needs. “I can’t meet them if I don’t know what they are, Justin.”

He looks up at me. There are few times when I call him by his actual name, but when I do, it gets his attention right away. “That goes both ways, Brian,” he whispers. Once again, I find myself wondering what I have done to him that he no longer felt he could be completely free with me. It must have shown on my face because he tells me, “Ask.”

And I know what he’s telling me to ask about. Taking in some much needed air, I ask the question that had been plaguing me for months. “What led to him?”

Justin gets up in all his naked glory, taking the cold coffee to the kitchen. On his way back, he grabs the bottle of Beam and two tumblers. As he pours two finger fulls in each glass, I know he’s wondering what he should say and what he shouldn’t. But I asked for honesty, and I can see when he decides to give it to me.

Settling back in under the covers after putting both the glasses and the bottle on the crate, he speaks. “It wasn’t just one thing, Brian. I wish to God that it was, then it would have been easier to talk to you about it. First, let me tell you that the fault was with me, no matter how unintentional it was. Yes, some of the fault was with you too, but I now that I look back on it, I think most of that was reactionary.”

“Don’t absolve me, Sunshine.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying that… after the incident, my perception of things as they were changed somehow. It wasn’t just within my art, it was pervasive. Everything wasn’t right. I couldn’t read you anymore or see through to people’s true motives. The decisions I was making at the time, although completely fucked up for me, felt right. I became needy in a way I had never been before. My confidence in myself was almost nonexistent so I looked for other ways to fill that void.”

“Like dancing at Babylon?”

“Exactly. It was one thing for you to tell me that I was beautiful; I felt you were a bit biased.”

“Because we were fucking?”

“Yes. But it was another thing for someone else to tell me. In my mind, I was now damaged goods. I was no longer beautiful with this scar around my head, I was no longer worthy of being with the Stud of Liberty Avenue. Even though within myself, I knew we were more, everyone else didn’t. Then there were the things that were constantly being said about me behind my back, but that I heard anyway. Did you know that Michael used to scout tricks for you before you even noticed them at Woody’s or at Babylon?”

“No I didn’t.”

“Well he did, and he would always make sure that I was within earshot as he talked about you and your ‘live-in trick for those slow nights’.”

I find myself getting extremely angry. Angry at Michael, of course, but more importantly pissed at myself. I’m also a little pissed at Justin for standing silent while this was going on. But I just have to know… “When did he do that?”

“First was Zucchini man, then there was the guy right after Jason Kemp’s murder, the blowjob you were getting that I interrupted in the backroom while I was with Ethan, and a host of others that you fucked either while I was standing there, or those you left me in the club for. It was all done to drive home my importance in the grand scheme of your life. It’s why I asked you if you would care if I wasn’t around anymore and you told me...”

“It’s your call where you want to be.”

He nodded. “I confronted Michael at his store the next day. Told him that he should have minded his own fucking business, and instead of acknowledging that he maybe he should have, he just threw in my face all that you had done for me. I had to wonder, what in turn I did for you? Was every name that he ever called me the sum of who I had become? Do you know when I slept with Ethan for the first time? It wasn’t before or directly after that kiss Michael saw that Ethan gave me on the street. It was when Ben was in the hospital and I didn’t know. You came in wanting to go to Babylon and I just wanted to stay home. Like you, I’d had a for shit day.”

“The floor picnic?”

“The very same. Yes, I’d had one with Ethan earlier that day, but I took the idea and ran with it. Not because it was romantic, but because I needed to just have that time with you. One of my homophobic professors had graded my project unfairly and made me question what the hell I was even doing there. Ethan saw me cutting through the music hall to get to the bus stop as he was coming out of his own class. We were talking about inconsequential things when I burst into tears, so he took me to his place where I could cry away from prying eyes. To me, there was nothing there but proffered friendship. I had called both your cell and your office, where Cynthia had told me you were out for the rest of the day. I called again while we were walking to Ethan’s, but you never picked up. So he tried to cheer me up with the floor picnic and it worked a little. I thought maybe… I thought maybe it was something I could do for you. I was…”

“You weren’t wrong, Sunshine. I just didn’t know. Seeing Ben like that was just so damn bad. Fuck! It was downright scary and reminded me of how you… how you looked in the earlier hours after the bashing with the multitude of tubes everywhere. I needed to do something to erase the memory from my psyche. It didn’t help that Michael cried all over me and I had to comfort him, especially when I was completely frazzled myself. I’m sorry that I didn’t take your thoughts and feelings into consideration that night.”

“Sorry is bullshit.”

I smiled against his hair. “I’m beginning to learn that it isn’t if you mean it. So now I think I understand why you became enamored of the fiddler.”

“I wasn’t enamored, Brian. Just wishful. Although he was giving me lip service at every turn, he still told me that I had value. It was what I wanted to hear from you, but was too afraid to ask for. But that’s a time in our lives that had to happen when it did.”

“What changed? I mean, why did the two of you end?”

“He did something to me that you never did. He broke a promise. It’s then that I realized that I was literally trying to fit a square peg into a circle. It would never fit, and neither would building a life with Ethan. Strangely, it took him cheating on me with some groupie who showed up at his door after Harrisburg to realize where I belonged; to help me remember who I was before the bashing, and who I wanted to be, post-Ethan.”

“And who is that?”

“Your partner, in every way that matters.”

“Speaking of that. We need to call Mel.”

“Mel? Why?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for some time. Since Stockwell’s been indicted, really. I think I can sue Vance for wrongful termination. I’m not sure what was in the original partnership contract, but I know she would have a copy.”

“You think it’s possible? If it is, what would you do?”

“Not me, Sunshine… we. I think it’s time that we fulfill one of our far-fetched, drunk dreams when we decided to take on the asshole.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Indeed, I do. Let’s start Kinnetik.  

CHAPTER THREE: CONTRACTS

JUSTIN:

“Do you think she’s still up?” I ask him.

“It’s only ten o’clock so yeah, I do. If I know her, she’s up working. Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers in my ear conspiratorially.

“What?” I like this playful, mischievous Brian.

“I’m fucking glad that she decided to abandon her foray into motherhood right now.”

“Brian! What a mean thing to say!”

“Not at all, Sunshine. First, you know for yourself that with Lindz’s spending habits, Mel was working herself to the bone to make ends meet. Whatever she couldn’t cover, I did. Now that’s not to say that she wouldn’t make a fabulous mom. I have to admit- albeit grudgingly- that she’s a good mother to Gus. He absolutely lights up when she walks into a room, which is a testament to how much they love each other. But Mel is on the fast track to making partner. There’s no way she would be able to work as many hours as she does right now and be able to have a baby without complications. So the way I see it, motherhood can wait for another year or two. She might be a hag, but she’s not an old one yet.”

I laugh. Leave it to him to issue a backhanded compliment when it comes to talking about Melanie. I swear those two are entirely too much alike. She does the same to Brian all the time. “I see you’ve been thinking about this for awhile.”

“Mel and I talked about it. I know she and I have our differences, but somehow, when she needs to hear the unadulterated truth, the she-devil always darkens my door. I suspected then, and I suspect even now, that the whole baby idea was Lindsay’s.”

“I suppose when they asked you it was a dead giveaway,” I say wryly, then immediately regret my words. “Brian, I’m…”

“Don’t apologize. I know you didn’t mean it the way it sounded, especially in lieu of what you’ve told me you have noticed regarding Lindsay. I guess that I have been a bit willfully blind to Michael and Lindsay’s motivations.”

“Out of everyone else, those two always seem to snow you. Sorry to say that, but there it is.”

“And they call me the cynical one in this relationship…”

“Yeah, I suppose I am, but not without good reason. Michael is predictable in his reactions, but Lindsay’s will be more subtle. On the surface, she’ll be happy, extolling the virtues of relationships according to the world of Lindsay. But it’s the truth that lies beneath that worries me. Lindsay is a WASP, Brian. We’re taught to watch a situation closely and manipulate it to our own advantage when it has the most impact.”

“I sometimes forget you grew up in that sect.”

“Indeed, I did. It’s a world of double entendres and where very little is actually what it seems. Everything is hidden under the veneer of breeding and politeness. So much so that if you’re not careful, you don’t even notice the trap until it’s too late. It’s part of the reason I urged you not to sign over your rights to Gus. I can’t tell you how many times in my life I was treated more like a commodity to Craig, rather than his child. I’m not saying that Lindsay would do that to you, but signing over your rights would have given her that power.”

I can tell he’s thinking about what I’ve said, and even if he doesn’t comment now, he’ll be watching a bit more closely from now on. It’s then that I realize what my true value is to Brian. I’m his protector. It’s not that he overtly needs one, but it’s always the hidden scars that hurt the worst. Michael, Lindsay, and Debbie have the ability to hurt Brian far worse than most people, even beyond his sperm and egg donors. I’ve watched them bully him emotionally until they each have gotten their way. With Lindsay, it was holding his rights over his head when she needed money. She’d appeal to that provider gene embedded within him. With Deb, it’s constantly seeing Brian as responsible for Michael’s happiness and well-being, even though he’s supposed to be a grown fucking man and able to care for himself. With Michael, it’s that air of boy-next-door innocence, the childlike wonder he portrays, the pout and folded arms, or the whining until you do what he wants just for the sake of peace and quiet. Those are all the tools they use, and I won’t be surprised if there are tricks they have that we haven’t seen yet. Well that shit stops right now! He’s protected me time and time again… now, it’s my turn.

“So what did you want to talk to Mel about?”

I’m loathe to bring it up after everything we talked about, but Brian asked me for complete honesty so I suppose this is part of that. “I need to take a look at the Rage contract. I haven’t received a payment from Michael since before the party. I see the comic everywhere, even more so now than when we first started it. So I know there has to be some money from it. I know that I requested in the contract that the books and accounting be submitted at the end of every month to Ted, but…”

“Emmett said that he’s supposed to be discharged by the end of the week,” he tells me.

“That’s great news, but if I can help it, I don’t want to trouble him with this just yet. The thing is that if there is any money to be had, we could use it, Brian. I don’t care if it’s just twenty dollars, it belongs to me and it could buy groceries or something.”

“Sunshine…”

“No, Brian. Just no. If I can only buy a week’s worth of stuff to get us through until a better day comes, then that’s what I’m going to do.  We are partners and if there is any way that I can contribute than I can and will. But if he’s withholding money due me, I want it. Michael is not going to collect free money at our expense. In the meantime, the tips from the Diner help.”

“I would say so. All those double shifts you’ve been working for the last couple of months paid the lights, gas, and heating bills.”

“Exactly, and thank you for letting me pay them.”

“What are you thanking me for?” I just look at him, until he concedes the point. “Okay, so I’m a bit of a bastard when it comes to people taking care of me or my responsibilities.”

“You know, a wise man once told me that a man needs to know when to ask for help. I’ll go you one even better. A wise man also knows when to accept help when it’s offered. But this isn’t that. This is me pulling my weight for a change, so let me.”

He pulls me close and kisses the top of my head in acknowledgment. And you know what? That simple gesture makes me feel so fucking good. He’s finally heard me and understands my need to pay my own way whenever I can. In his mind, for whatever reason, he thinks I’m like Lindsay. Perhaps it’s because we were born into a life of privilege. But I’m also a man, and I never, ever aspired to be a kept boy or some glorified househusband. His simple acceptance makes me think that maybe this time we really can design the life we want together and that it’s not all some champagne wishes and pipe dreams.

Grabbing the house phone, he placed it on speaker as we waited for the call to connect. We were kissing and laughing and joking when Mel’s dulcet tones came over the line.

“Someone better be in jail or dead and stinking to call me at this hour of the night.”

“Why Smelly Melly, I didn’t know you cared,” Brian parried.

“What do you want? I’m in the middle of a couple of briefs.”

“Well from that tone, I can tell thankfully they’re not Lindsay’s.” He mock shuddered, causing me to laugh.

“Brian! Behave! Hi, Mel.”

“Hey, Baby! How are you?”

“I’m doing okay, although Brian and I have been talking about some things. We were wondering if you had the time to dispense some much needed legal advice.”

“Well, because you asked so nicely, by all means. Besides, this one brief is aggravating the fuck out of me. So fire away!”

“Okay, here goes,” Brian begins. “I want to know what my options are in suing Vance for Wrongful Termination. I’m also wondering about Reputational Damage.”

“Reputational Damage?” Both Mel and I ask at the same time.

“Yes. Remember that call I got from an office in Harrisburg offering me a tenth of what I was making at Vanguard and a demotion in position as a copywriter?” I nod my head. “Well, it was something that she said on the phone. She said that my reputation preceded me, and that I was now considered a high-risk candidate for a position in upper management. She offered the copywriter’s position with the stipulation that I not try to advance for two years.”

“That’s preposterous!” Mel exclaimed.

“That’s what I thought, too. It’s not so much that I thought I was too good for the position, even though I am. It’s that I worked damn fucking hard to get where I was, but it got me to thinking. How could my professional reputation and track record for award-winning campaigns be considered high-risk, outside of Stockwell’s shenanigans? And although it is national news, there’s nothing on paper, except where money is concerned, to connect Justin and I directly to getting him indicted. Since the people in Harrisburg wouldn’t have had access to my bank or credit card statements, that means Vance or someone from Vanguard opened their mouths and is trying to blackball me within the industry.”

“I see your point, Brian. The only problem is that we can’t prove he did it on hearsay alone. But I can tell you that you definitely have a case for the Wrongful Termination. Regardless of the fact that you undermined the campaign, what you did was on your own time as a private citizen. You did the job you were paid for during the day. As a private citizen, you have the right to peacefully protest. Your actions didn’t cause a riot and you didn’t end up in jail, although I’m sure Stockwell would have rather it been you than him. That said, and I’ll have to double check, but I’m sure your contract states that you as a partner had the right not to work with a client you were in direct conflict with. It didn’t specify what the conflict had to be. And even though you didn’t buy into the partnership directly, the fact that you signed a multi-billion dollar client and used the ten-percent bonus you would have received from that as payment to buy into the business, assured that you should have received that money back regardless of how you left Vanguard. He’s in direct violation of that edict. Also, I made sure that there wasn’t a non-competition clause included. He would have had to have you sign that directly as it was separate from the partnership contract, since you wouldn’t have deliberately done something to damage Vanguard, thereby fucking all your hard work to hell.”

“Did he?” I ask, fascinated by the actual terms of the agreement. When Brian and Mel took legal action Gardner was going to pay big.

“Yeah, right.” Mel huffed. “Brian had the man scared shitless by getting Leo Brown to sign. There’s no way he wanted to offend Brian without just cause.”

“But he had no problem ousting my ass,” Brian sneered.

“Unfairly. Don’t forget that he did it unfairly, Brian. Thanks to Ryder, he was just looking for a reason. You never were some mindless peon willing to just go along to get along. And although you negated everything you did for Stockwell once you pulled your head out of your ass, it still didn’t affect the work you did for your other accounts prior to or while working on his campaign. Vance used it as a reason to take away what was owed to you,” Mel says.

“So how soon can you have the paperwork prepared?”

“It’s already been done. I figured in a just world I would have been able to convince you to do this so I prepared it in the hopes that I could. But I know you Brian, and you needed to come to me, instead of my bullying you into it. I knew you would get there eventually, so it just needs filing.”

“Well for once in your life you were right. La-di-fucking-dah and hoorah. But on a serious note, Mel, thanks. And now for Sunshine’s problem. It appears that the check has not been in the mail in quite some time for Justin.”

“Well Michael’s been out of state, God knows where so…”

“No Mel, if it was a week, I could understand,” I tell her. “I could also understand if it was just a month or two.”

“So how long are we talking?”

“Not since before the Rage party.” The silence is deafening as both Mel and Brian process that piece of information.

“When was the last time, Justin?”

“Not since around the time I returned from Vermont. I don’t even know how the comic is doing now; it’s not exactly like Michael and I are regular speaking terms. But I would have thought that he’d at least let me know how our business is doing. Whenever I asked when he was at the Diner, he would either ignore the question or change the subject, which would result in another argument and smear campaign against me.”

“It’s a classic Michael move. We all know that.”

“Yeah, but the only thing is that I can’t ask Ted, who I know handles the books.”

“Em’s been keeping the store open for Michael at Ben’s request, so that he’d have a business to come back to. Perhaps he would know where to look,” Brian says. Like me, I think he’s a bit curious about the state of Rage, too.

Is it possible that he’s been cheating me? is the first question that goes through my mind. At first, I am shocked by the thought, but then can’t figure out why I should be. Trying to rationalize it with the advent of Hunter isn’t working simply because Hunter’s arrival in their lives happened between the second and third issues being written and released. That fact puts things in a much more sinister perspective.

Honestly, if Brian hadn’t asked me to, I would never have worked with Michael again. He’s an idiot, but as long as we kept things Rage-related, he was tolerable for an hour or two. But once I find out the nature of things, I’ve already decided that it’s no longer worth my time or effort to work with Michael. Now that we’re starting Kinnetik, I can bow out gracefully and still walk with the copyright to all of my artwork. It was the one stipulation in the contract that Brian and I insisted on. At the time, I couldn’t understand why I felt so strongly about it, since we were creating the comic together and things seemed almost friendly between Michael and I. But now, I’m glad I did.

“I’ll take a run by the shop tomorrow.”

“No, Sunshine, we’re going. You and Michael may be equal partners, but I’m a silent partner in the comic as well.”

“That’s right! You are! You’re the tie-breaker if we ever got deadlocked on an issue. I can’t believe I had forgotten about that.”

“As the person who financed it, I insisted. It’s times like this, I’m glad I did.” Brian looks at me meaningfully before speaking to Mel again. “I also insisted that there be a set of books for the comic store, and another set for Rage. Do you know who’s been taking over for Ted while he’s been away?”

“Michael said that he’s got an outside agency to look over the books while Ted is incapacitated.”

Brian looked dubious at that statement. “I highly doubt that, since Michael is notoriously cheap. Do you know how Ted received the accounting at least?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean did he get them electronically or just by paper.”

“Now that I don’t know, but I know that I submit my records to him in both ways. He uses Quickbooks to double check the figures. He always said that it’s more prudent to have both methods readily available, in case there’s a systems crash or the books get misplaced. I wouldn’t doubt that he’s advised Michael to do the same thing,” she tells us.

“And Michael isn’t stupid. Lazy yes, but if he involves the three things he loves, he’s all ears with tunnel vision,” I inform them.

“I understand exactly what you mean, Baby. If it involves money, comics, or Brian, Michael focuses more than Lindsay does in Saks. And that’s saying a whole lot, but I agree with you. Michael would have paid attention because it involves two of his passions, but still includes the third. How else would he know when he would have to go to Brian to borrow money for a bill he neglected in favor of a must-have item on Ebay?”

“You make me sound some sort of fucking prized bull,” Brian grits out.

“Sorry to inform you, Stud, but to them you are,” I soothe. “Mel, can you be at the shop by eleven in the morning? Aside from everything else, Brian and I are going to start our own agency. We need you to keep that quiet for now, but how long do you think it will be before Gardner Vance decides to pay Brian what he owes him or play hardball and take this to court?”

“Actually, I think he’d be a damn fool not to want to settle this out of court. In fact, Brian I need you at the office at nine, and then we can go to Red Cape Comics. There’s some papers for you to sign to get it filed with the courts, but also I am going to revise the figure you will be asking for.”

“He’ll probably agree to the figure as long as I sign an non-competition clause before he cuts the check,” Brian sighs.

“Which you will cheerfully tell him to shove up his urethra sideways,” Mel laughs as Brian and I wince. YIKES, she’s scary! “The beauty of this is that either way you win. He can’t ask you for anything in exchange for his cooperation, since it’s either settle privately or go to court and publicly admit trying to cheat you and sabotage you. Which do you think the bald bastard will choose?”

We said our goodbyes to Mel with the promise that we’ll be in her office on time in the morning. As I settle into his side in bed, I ask what he’s thinking.

“It’s like a mountain of what-ifs and an endless list of things-to-do.” He sighs into my hair. “What are you going to do if what you suspect about Michael is true?”

I gasp. “How did you…?”

“I’m as onto to you as you are finally back onto me, Sunshine. You might hope for the best, but I know you also expect the worst.”

“It’s just… Brian if he did, it’s going to come down to me or him. It’s going to tear the family apart. You’ve had Michael, and therefore Deb and Vic, for most of your life. I would never ask you to choose between us.”

“And it’s why you would be the first choice, Justin. You’ve always respected his place in my life, even if you didn’t like it. Michael has never given you the same courtesy.” He brings me even closer to him. “I hope we’re wrong, but I can’t shake this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that we aren’t.”

CHAPTER FOUR:  AIN’T NO SUNSHINE...

BRIAN:

One of my guiltiest pleasures has always been watching him sleep. It’s quite reassuring, considering that just over two and a half years ago I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to do so again. I can’t help but think back to what he said last night about how the incident rocked his self-image. Somehow I wonder how I didn’t realize that meaning behind all the ‘I’m fine’ phrases that he’d uttered during that time meant that he was anything but. I could blame it on the fact that so much was going on during that time, like the threat of losing my job, which I’d ultimately lost anyway, but that would be doing a disservice to both Justin and me.

The fact is that it was just easier to pretend that we both were fine than to admit we were suffering in silence. When we imploded, there wasn’t a way for me to hide from it anymore. Yes, I bought tricks in from the outside to cure the loneliness for a little while, but before they came and after they went, I sat in this very loft reliving the waking nightmare that had become mine and Justin’s second year together. I’ve never been good at self-reflecting, but it was definitely a necessary evil at the time, and has now led me to this moment. It feels like we we’ve come full circle, and even though the journey was a difficult one, I think we both can be grateful for it in our own ways.

As he lays there on his back, sprawled out, his morning wood tenting the sheets, I can’t resist the allure of him. From his longer hair, to his full lips, to the creamy and smooth skin that is always so responsive to my touch, Justin is not only perfect to me… he’s perfect for me. People always tend to get lost in the stereotype when they look at him. They overlook the intelligence within those oh-so-blue eyes in favor of their preconceived notions. But if they would just have a conversation with him, they would find out just how wrong they are.

They would know that he’s incredibly funny, wise, strong-minded, and very, very opinionated when he needs to be. And he’s my angel. The man who has kept me sane more days than not, just by knowing him. The man who can drive me insane with a look or just a well placed, cutting remark. The man who inspires lust within me like no other ever could or would.

He said that he wondered what he’d given to me; the answer is simple. It’s all those things and more that keeps me enthralled by him. Moving closer to him, I begin to kiss the spot on his neck that makes him gasp, letting my tongue roll languidly over the spot. I smile as he starts to squirm, sifting his fingers through my hair holding me there.

“Mmm… good morning to me,” Justin mumbles as he tilts his head, allowing me more access.

There is nothing sexier to me than sleep-warmed Justin. His feel and taste is addictive. I know that sounds a little weird, but it’s the truth. It’s when his natural scent is most prevalent on his skin. The slight saltiness of his skin slightly stings my tongue in the most delicious of ways as I pull gasps, moans, and sighs from him.

Stopping at his nipples, I lick one repeatedly as I roll the the other between my thumb and forefinger. I know if I keep at it long enough, he’ll cum. He’s so sensitive there, after all. But that’s not how I want us to start this morning off. So after I give the same attention to his other nub, I continue my downward foray to the treasure I’m really seeking.

What can I say about Justin except that he’s been gifted with an abundance of cock. Many men- and yes, I have been with many- his height don’t compare. Not only does he have length, but girth, which is like steel beneath velvet both in my mouth and in my ass when I choose to let him top me. Letting him scratch the faint bottoming itch I get from time to time is never a problem. I suck him down until he reaches the back of my throat and hold him there, giving his head the throat massage of my life.

If we’re going to be monogamous, I might as well begin as I mean for us to go on. As he begs for me to speed up, I do just the opposite. I slow down and slurp my way back up his dick before hurriedly sucking him down again. By the time I’ve finished giving my throat a much needed workout, he’s a quivering mess. Which is absolutely perfect for what I have in mind this morning...

I sit up, grabbing the requisite items of condoms and lube. I can feel his eyes watching me, devouring me as I take my time. Building up Justin’s anticipation has always been a secret vice of mine, but it also gives him a chance to calm down. I want this to last. I don’t want it quick right now.

I need him in a way I don’t think I ever have before.

Taking the condom in one hand, I roll it down his length, enjoying the surprise and the wealth of other emotions gracing his face. My other hand is opening me up to receive him, even as I resume jacking him back to full hardness. Once I’m sure that I can take all of him with very little to no crippling pain, I sit astride his hips. Lowering myself ever so slowly, I relish in every moan Justin gives me. I don’t bottom often, so I know just how tight I am.

I can see him fighting the urge to grab my hips and ram, but I’m holding him completely still. This is my ride until I say otherwise. Once I’m fully seated, I take the time to adjust to the sensation by plunging my tongue into his mouth. I love hearing the sounds he makes when he’s being ravished. As I start to move on him, the tempo of his breathing changes.

I know he’s going to have to fight hard not to cum until I’m ready, but he’ll do it. I have every confidence in him in this arena. No one else has ever been able to match my stamina, except Justin. I increase the pace, still holding his hands down to the bed even as I detach our lips. His groan is both one of gratification and loss, and I love it.

“Bri… let me. I have to move,” he begs.

“Don’t cum until I say.”

“I promise.”

I let go of his hands, and immediately he’s up on his elbows, lifting his pelvis and driving into me deeply. Ordinarily, I would try to control the depth of penetration, but fuck! I want it! I want to be pounded into even as I’m riding his dick for all I’m worth. I feel Justin shift his torso even higher, and then feel his arms wrap around me.

One hand is pulling at my hair while the other is on my ass, squeezing tightly. It’s taking all that’s in me not to lose my rhythm as he says the most filthy things into my ear. See, most people look at him and see an angel, but in reality Justin is a horny little devil; a veritable beast in bed. And before I know what is happening, I find myself being shifted onto my back, and he’s fucking pounding into me. His mouth is at my nipples, sucking and biting and yes! He’s fucking growling.

DAMN! I have missed this side of him in ways I can never explain. It’s the primitive part that only I know exists within him. He has me clawing and biting and fucking chanting for him to fuck me harder and faster. He complies even as I grab ahold of his shoulders to give me the leverage to meet his deep thrusts.

“I’m…”

“You ready, Bri?” He pants out, and I know just how close he is.

He redoubles his efforts and commands me to cum as he swipes my prostate in a staccato rhythm again and again. My body has no choice but to obey and I revel in it. It’s then that I realize that I could never have this with anyone else. My trust in him is infinite. I know he would never hurt me, not physically anyway.

And unlike the rest of Gay P.A., beyond what he and I have ever done publicly, I know that Justin has never divulged what we do here… not even to Daphne. I don’t know how I know that, I just do. And knowing that, I don’t know how I ever found the strength to let him go. After he dismounts and disposes of the condom, he turns to face me.

“What brought that on? Not that I’m complaining or anything, but why now?”

I would say that I just wanted something different, but it wouldn’t be the whole truth. So I might as well tell him. “You’re my partner, my equal in all things… including this. I can’t promise that it will happen all the time, but…”

“Well, I’m glad it happened now. The first time was to teach me. The second, third, and fourth times was because I was terrified of bottoming again, and the last time was to seal a deal. This time was just for me.”

“For us, Sunshine. It was for us.”

He nods, and then sighs deeply. "I suppose we should get up now in order to be at Mel’s office by nine.”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“But I want to, Brian. Call it clinginess, call it nosiness, or whatever else you have to. I just want… I want to be there with you.”

And how could I argue with that? We alighted from the bed and headed into the bathroom after Justin put the soiled bed linens into the hamper. He’s so fucking proper sometimes, never one to let the cumstains stay on the bed until we get ready to get back in it. I used to find it annoying, but now it’s just another of those endearing qualities that makes Justin who he is. After showering and grabbing a bagel, we’re out the door.

As always, I’m wearing one of my many suits, but Justin surprised me and put one of his on, too. He coupled it with a white oxford shirt and a cardigan to match his eyes. Very preppy indeed...well until you get down to his feet. I lifted my eyebrow at his choice of footwear, but he just smirked.

“You go for style, I go for comfort. And my Converse sneakers are very comfortable.”

I laughed. “Let’s go, twat.”

We hailed a cab and arrived at Mel’s downtown office with a few minutes to spare. She came into the lobby and stopped short. It was obvious she was surprised to see us. “Good morning, gentlemen. Baby, you look very well put together this morning.” She nodded in approval.

“Well, I figured I’d have to get used to it sooner or later. Wearing a suit, I mean. I’ll never have as many as Brian but...”

“Honey, Fifth Avenue in New York doesn’t have as many suits as Brian. It really puts all of us professional women to shame.”

“With the amount of your fees once this mess with Gardner is over with, I’m sure you too will up your wardrobe game. My motto is dress for the life you want, not the life you have,” I say sagely.

“Yes, oh wise Glamor Guru. Now get in here!” Mel ushers us into her office, where there is a lady about our age sitting there. “I’ve invited my colleague, Jenean Peters, to sit in on this meeting since it is of a two-fold purpose. She specializes in Corporate law and will be my co-counsel on this.”

“I have been reviewing Melanie’s notes on your case, Mr. Kinney…”

“Brian. And this is Justin.”

She nods acceptance of doing away with formality within the confines of the office. “Very well Brian. I have been reviewing the case and I have to admit that I’m very surprised you didn’t seek restitution sooner.”

“Does that affect my case?”

“It does. But in both good and bad ways. Depending on the judge it could look like you were withholding litigation to increase the payout.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“I know. Melanie explained to me all of the ins and outs which made it impossible to bring this lawsuit to light sooner. We had about a three-month window before the statute of limitations would have run out.”

“Wait a minute…” Justin interrupts. “You said something about increasing the payout. Why?”

“Well in this case it’s also a matter of interest being owed on said money. Depending on when we decide to sue Vance from, be it the partnership date or the date of termination of employment, the payout can range from eight to ten thousand dollars in interest alone. That doesn’t include the bonuses that you gave up to solidify your place within Vanguard, or the accounts that suffered when you were ousted from the company. The bottom line is that you did the work and should have been paid accordingly.”

“So what do you want to do, Brian?” Mel asks me.

I look to Justin, my business partner and really, my best friend. “Well, Sunshine. What would you do if you were me?”

He wrinkles is nose in that way he has when he’s looking at things from every possible angle. Finally coming to a decision, he says, “If it were me, I would go from the partnership date. Honestly, that money is owed to you, and regardless of everything else, Gardner is still going to have to pay. That said, I would ask for the bigger amount and if necessary, seem to negotiate down to the lesser amount, but not go a penny beneath that.” He smiles. “It’s the WASP way.”

I smile back at him, and turn back to Mel and Janean, who were nodding their heads in approval. “Well, you heard the man. Gouge his balls until he pleads for mercy, and then give it to him Taylor-Kinney style.”

I heard Justin gasp at that. “Brian?”

“What? We’re about to become a corporation. Not married, but in partnership in all the ways that matter. It is what you want, right?”

“Of course, but…”

“Me too. Mel, make it so please.” I hold her stunned but happy gaze, knowing that she knows exactly what I’m asking for without me having to voice it.

“I’ll get right on it. You know there’s going to be a bunch of brick-shitting, right?”

I smirk back at her. “That’s what I’m- what we’re- counting on.”

The relief on her face tells me multitude of stories, but most of all, it tells me that she no longer feels insecure. I guess Justin was right. Mel didn’t hate me; just the pedestal Lindsay continuously placed me on. I suppose I can understand, since Lindsay, as a WASP princess, was taught from the crib to fantasize about Prince Charming- the perfect one who would always take care of her.

Well it’s time to climb out of her fantasy world and face the reality she refuses to see. I’m not her husband. I’m never going to be her husband, and I will never be into pussy- especially hers- ever again. There is only one twat I want to look at, and his name is Justin Taylor.  

EMMETT:

Child, one would think that Michael never heard of a dust mop or fucking broom. This place probably makes the tombs of Egypt look like the Taj Ma-fucking-hal! As I cough from moving yet another shelving unit out of my way to chase the dust bunnies from behind it, I notice a series of coated books marked The Real Rage behind it. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Michael definitely isn’t known for his housekeeping abilities.

But then I remembered the call from Mel this morning, saying that she, Baby, and Big Bad would be stopping by and asked if I could locate the accounting books for her. I called Ben, who was gracious enough to tell me the code to the safe so that I could pull them out, along with the books for Red Cape Comics. I don’t know why I did, but it felt right to do. And honestly, who am I to ignore my inner-diva screaming for me to do something? Nope, my diva- who I choose to call Lana after the great Lana Turner- has never steered me wrong.

So after lugging all six of the books in the safe to the counter, I decided to do a little sprucing up, since this joint ain’t jumping. If I’m honest, it hasn’t been jumping in the two months, but hey, who am I to judge. Maybe they just come in to commune with their favorite and most knowledgeable comic book geek, Michael. Well HELLOOOOOOO, I am certainly NOT he! I’m just too tall, too queenly, and too much for living in reality to be Captain Comic, thank you very much!

I decide to log into the accounts for HoneyGrass Elegant Creations, which is doing very well by the way, to check on our upcoming soirees. Vic and I decided that in addition to our actual planners, this would be a great way to keep up with what’s left to do on an account. I update the spreadsheet and then email it to Vic and vice versa so that we always know when the other has to jump in and help. I’ve been working from Michael’s computer because if I’m going to sit here taking care of his failing business, I might as well work on my successful one while doing it.”

“FUCK!” I yell out as that damn password protected bullshit dialogue box comes up again.

“Not at work, Honeycutt!” Big Bad yells as he comes in.

“Oh you! And don’t call me Honeycutt,” I retort then sigh. “It’s just, I swear, every time I get a roll going on this computer while updating my accounts, this damn password protected dialogue box pops up. It’s like every five minutes or so. It’s really annoying.”

“They usually have some kind of timer attached to them. Maybe go into the control panel and shut it off,” Justin suggests.

“I tried, and it says that unless I’m an administrator I can’t make changes. I’ve been trying to reach Michael, but it just rolls over to voicemail. Brian, maybe you should try. Lord knows if you call, he’d probably knock his two front teeth out to answer the call and not complain about it.”

“Why? He hasn’t contacted me once since…”

“Bri, that’s not the point, this time. Can’t you see that Em is about to break the damn thing if it keeps interrupting him.”

I watch Brian roll his eyes and can tell he really doesn’t want to make the call, but he just has to suck it up and do it. “Please, Brian. I can’t even save my docs without that fucking box popping up and then it keeps doing it every time I hit cancel. It’s like it has Michael’s persistence embedded.”

“Damn! Fine! I’ll make the fucking call,” he grumbles as he reaches in his pocket for his cell phone. I resist the urge to jump and clap that between Baby and I, our appeals worked. He puts the call on speaker.

“Brian! How are you?! I miss you!” Michael’s voice comes loud and clear over the line.

Justin mouths told ya, even as Brian goes to speak. “I’m fine, Mikey. How’s my car?”

“It’s doing okay, I suppose. Takes a lot of gas though. I’m going to need a loan when I get back to cover the cost.”

“Ask your husband. But that’s not why I’m calling. As you know, Emmett’s been watching the shop for you while you’re on the lam. The trouble is that while he’s using this computer, the dialogue box keeps popping up preventing him from doing what he needs to do for his own business.”

“Well technically he should be looking after my business, not working his own.”

“Well if you had any business I would, Michael,” I sneer. “But that’s beside the point. I need the password so that I can change the timer setting which keeps this box popping up every five fucking minutes.” I mean seriously! The nerve of that ungrateful little imp!

“No!”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Brian asks.

“No, I’m not giving up my code. Emmett should be able to deal with it since he’s using my computer and service.”

“Well if you feel that way, Michael, I have no problem NOT using your computer and service and just leave your shop right now… with the doors open!” I yell at him.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me!”

“Okay boys and boys, let’s just rein it in. So let me understand this, Michael, you’re not going to give us the code.”

“I just said I wasn’t.” He huffs.

“Okay. So when are you coming back with my car? The one that will be insurance less by tomorrow afternoon?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m going to call the insurance company tomorrow and tell them to let my insurance lapse on it.”

“You wouldn’t! Brian, you wouldn’t!”

‘Why not? It’s my car and I’m not using it. Bye now!” Brian hangs up, only for his phone to ring back immediately. He lets it roll over to voicemail. I do the same with the store phone and my cell.

“So what now?” Mel asks.

“There’s a reason Michael doesn’t want to give up the code, and I doubt it has anything to do with privacy,” Justin says. “Besides, it’s probably some lame shit like Michael Charles Kinney or some shit like that.”

“Eww, creepy!” Mel shuddered.

“Seriously!”

Brian scrunched his face up in distaste. “Sunshine, why would you say some bogus shit like that?”

“Ah, maybe because it’s true. Look, Brian, I don’t know why, but if this is the only way Michael can live out his fantasy without anyone knowing it, don’t you think he would do it?”

“But this Michael we’re talking about,” Mel says.

“True. But Baby does have a point. For the longest time my password was Jon Bon Jovi until I found out he married his high school sweetheart and that killed that. But anyway, would you have guess that if I hadn’t told you?”

“Emmett, seriously, you are such a queen.”

“Well then, Brian, prove me wrong. Type it in and see what happens.”

“Michael Charles Novotny-Kinney?”

“No. Michael Charles Kinney. No way he would ever want to associate his real life to his fantasy one. Michael is, if nothing else, predictable where you’re concerned,” Justin tells him wryly.

Brian shrugs and does as Justin says, ever thankful at this moment that he can type without looking. I can tell that just the idea that Justin could be right makes him want to hurl buckets. Hell, I’m right there with him. But Michael’s obsession with Brian is well-known. It’s the stuff of legends… urban legends, that is.

“Well I’ll be damned!” Mel exclaims, as sure enough, the dialogue box opens to reveal a title page called The Real Rage. It has a cropped picture of Brian and Michael in tuxes, looking like a happy couple, and beneath it a series of numbers on a spreadsheet.

“HOLY SHIT! That fucker’s been cheating me since the beginning!” Justin growls. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so pissed!

CHAPTER FIVE...   AND HERE COMES THE REAL RAGE

EMMETT:

“Motherfucker! Cheesy-eating, shit-grinning, greedy-grubbing, penny-pinching MOTHERFUCKER! That Chester-cheetah smelling, Captain-Crunch inhaling SON of a BITCH of a BACKSTABBING BASTARD! I ought to knock his ass for a loop and duct tape him shut after shoving an extra large dildo up his ass, then put his lazy, shiftless, looking like he’s forever constipated, gorilla-grinning ass on a plane to China where they would cut off his hands, FUCKING THIEVING TERMITE!”

Now I have heard Baby cuss creatively before, but never like this! It would be quite funny if the situation wasn’t so serious. Brian, at first, looks like he wants to be sick. I mean, it’s not every day that one finds out their best friend is a thieving, conniving rat. But on the other hand, he looks concerned and is watching Justin closely. I can’t figure it out until Mel yells.

“Justin, calm down!”

“I AM CALM!”

“He’s not lying,” Brian warns us. “He hasn’t yet gotten to…” His words are immediately halted as I watch in amazement as Brian races across the room and reaches Justin in a flash. Snatching the broomstick out of Justin’s hand, he draws the smaller body into him tightly, before he continues. ‘... his smashing phase.”

Mel and I look at each other puzzled as Brian continues to struggle and hold onto an unbelievably strong, aggressive Justin.

“That’s what my fucking money went to Brian!” He nods towards three display cabinets showcasing Michael’s extensive collection of action figures, all pristine and still in their original packaging. Taking a closer look at the cabinets, I note that one of them still has the price tag hanging off of the side of it. “He bought fucking toys and expensive cabinets to display them in, the slimy son of a bitch! LET ME GO!”

“No!” Brian says calmly, but with the assertive authority that would have most men stopping in their tracks. It’s amazing to see that the man we all know as Sunshine is not such a man.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe…” Mel trails off.

“What is it?” I ask, while still keeping a close eye on the actions of Brian and Justin, who are still struggling against each other.

It’s a good thing I was because Justin managed to get out of one of his sneakers and was holding it in his left hand. He launched it, even while Brian grabbed his arm again, trying to contain him. I don’t know where the speed came from, but I managed to get to the center cabinet in just enough time to catch the rubber-soled missile before it could do any irreparable damage. I dropped the object, shaking out my hand which was stung by the force of Justin throwing his sneaker. Who the hell knew Justin had the throwing arm of a quarterback?

“This didn’t just start at the time of the launch party as we thought. It seems that Michael has been skimming off the top since the very first issue was sold,” Mel tells us. She picks up the sheaf of papers lying on top of the ledgers that I had also grabbed out of the safe. She gasps out loud as she continues to peruse them, even while reaching for her briefcase. Turning to look at Justin and Brian, she says, “Justin, seriously, I need you to get out of Hulk-smash mode right now! It looks like Michael modified his copy of the original contract to justify cheating you. He…”

She’s interrupted by the ringing of my phone, and once again, it’s Michael. I put my finger to my lips signaling for quiet before putting the phone on speaker. “House of Gore Mortuary. You kill’em, we chill’em. How may we bury you today?”

“Emmett, quit fucking playing around! Where’s Brian?!”

Instead of answering his whining demand for information, I hang up. The phone rings again and once again, I place the call on speaker. “Foot Up the Ass Proctology. How may we direct your ass kicking? Or are you looking for our affiliates at 1-800-Slap-A-Bitch, who service all those in need of a punch to the throat?”

“EMMETT!”

Click!

“You would think he’d get the message by now that you aren’t in the mood to speak to him,” Mel says wryly. “Anyway…” She’s again cut off by the ringing of a phone. Only this is time it’s the shop’s.

I clear my throat as I check the caller ID and putting on my most professional voice, answer using the speakerphone. “Rat Bastard Cunty Club. Our specials today are the Knuckle Sandwiches, Two Black Eyes with a side of teeth, Split Ball Soup and to drink, a crowd favorite of Arsenic with a twist of lime, or you could pick your poison. Would you like a reservation?”

“EMMETT!” Michael’s screech comes over the line again.

“Oh, it’s a whiny little weasel. You have the wrong number altogether. I’ll transfer you now to our FUCK OFF Hotline. Have a nice day!” Click!

“Don’t answer it again, Em,” Mel said, holding in her snicker. “In fact, just turn the ringers off. In the meantime, we need to come up with a plan, but first I’m going to take these things with me. Janean and I are going to go over everything with a fine-tooth comb, and I should have an answer by later today as to what the course of action should be.”

“Off the top of your head, what would you suggest?” Brian asks, still holding a semi-subdued Justin. Baby still looks tense, but there is also something behind his eyes that I can’t fathom. Brian notices the direction of my gaze and smiles tiredly. “A migraine is forming. It always happens after this kind of rage. I need to get him home before it gets debilitating, so talk fast.”

Both Mel and I nod in understanding and sympathy. I’ve always wondered about the aftereffects of the bashing, besides the hand trouble. Brian never complained or said anything during that time, but one only had to look at him to see the weariness, hidden like a closely guarded secret. Oh, he still looked impeccable most days, at least on the outside, but inside there was always this air of exhaustion. I can’t imagine how many times he’s seen this side of Justin before. It definitely gives a new dimension to their dynamic and further confirms that those who swear up and down they know them and how they operate, really have no idea who Brian and Justin really are as a couple. But Mel and I are here receiving a firsthand education.

“Will you be available at about five this evening? We can either meet at the office or Janean and I can come to the loft,” Mel suggests.

“I haven’t been there since… anyway, I’ll arrange to have some… you know what, Big Bad, let me speak to you in private for a moment?” I ask, hoping that he will say yes to my offer. I saw the look he’d given Mel when she suggested that she and whoever this Janean person is, come to the loft this afternoon.

“I’ll keep a close eye on Baby, Brian. In fact, I’ll take him to the car so I can drop you both home.”

“Mel, you don’t have to…”

“I know I don’t Brian, but I want to. Please? Let me do this, please,” she almost begs and I can see that not only is she sincere, but she’s worried, just as I am. This was a side of Justin that we’d never seen before and we just want- we need- to make sure that he is alright. And believe it or not, we need to make sure of the same of Brian. Although we’d never tell him that.

He tilts his head briefly in thanks before following me into an alcove I just discovered while cleaning this ragtag place. I swallow hard before deciding to just get it over with, reminding myself that the worse he can say is no. “Now listen, I know how you are about accepting help and all of that, so let’s just set aside that automatic objection for a moment and hear me out. I want you to call these people and mention my name.” I hand him a business card out of my wallet.

“Horatio’s Staging and Loans?”

“Yes. He’s a personal friend of mine and will lend you the necessary supplies you need to return the loft to feeling like a home until you get back on your feet, which I know you will, and soon. Don’t worry about the fees; it’s carte blanche on me. Business has been doing pretty good and well... I know things have been tough for you and Baby, and I’m so sorry for not being there as I ought to have been. It’s just…”

“We understood more than you know, Em. You had just lost Godiva right before Pride and then with Theodore… we all just never figured he would get so out of hand.”

I smiled wanly. “Well, he always said he was a late bloomer. But he’s doing better since he’s going to be released on Friday. Blake called me just to give me a heads up so that I could decide what to do. You’re still his POA, but Teddy asked him to call me in case I needed to skip town for a while before seeing him.”

“Are you?”

I take a deep breath before answering. “No. It’s damn tempting, but although I’m still hurt, Teddy needs to know that I forgive him. It’s hard- it was hard- but I do. I was almost to that point when I first arrived here in the Pitts, so who am I to judge someone else by my own yardstick? I know what you did for him, by the way.”

He shrugs. “It was nothing…”

“It was big of you to pay the rest of his mortgage payments for the year before you lost your job at Vanguard, Brian. Because of you, he has a home to go back to. So this is my way of saying thank you for that.”

“I didn’t do it for that, Honeycutt.”

“I know, which is why I’m doing this for you… and don’t call me Honeycutt.” I smile at him, knowing that my intentions were received in the spirit in which they were given.

“Come on and let’s get out of this place before Justin comes back and decides to try again. He’s a persistent little fucker when he sets his mind to something.” He laughs. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

“Why?”

“You’ve seen the real RAGE and didn’t flinch. Justin, when he’s angry, can be…”

I put my hand on his arm to stay him. Looking him straight in his hazel eyes, which are more golden brown at this moment, I say, “He’s just Justin. That’s all, Bri. He’s just who he is. What happened today will never change my opinion of him. Although I have to admit that missile launch was impressive!” I say, looking at the bruise forming in the palm of my hand.

For the first time since I’ve really gotten to know Brian, he gives me a genuine smile. “You should see what he can do when he’s really angry. Impressive doesn’t quite cover it. All I’ll say is that if he ever puts down his halo, duck and run for cover.”

I swallow hard before answering. “Duly noted!” YIKES!

MELANIE:

Although I’m sitting in the front seat of the car, my eyes keep drifting to the back. Justin hasn’t said anything since we left out of the building, but the tears keep flowing. I know that they are tears of anger, but also of hurt, and I vow to make this right for him… and for Brian.

Not many would know it, but I’ve watched how Brian and Justin work since the very beginning. Justin doesn’t allow Brian to get away with as much shit as people, namely Lindsay, think he does. Unlike Lindsay and her whiny counterpart, Justin lets Brian just be himself, whether we see it or not. It’s evident in the way they smile at each other when they think no one’s watching. It’s in the small things Justin tries to do to take care of Brian, and the very big things Brian does for him. I am the only one really privy to a lot of their personal business… well, me and Ted. I know that although Justin has been paying Brian back from his pay and tips at the Diner, Brian has been putting that money into a savings account for Justin. I know that although Justin asked that I draw up the contract for him to pay back the tuition, I know that Brian has no intention of accepting it and it will go into that savings account. Justin may feel the need to pay his own way, and Brian will let him have that sense of accomplishment, even while actually putting the money away for his future endeavors.

Ironically, as hard as they are struggling right now, Brian still refuses to use any of that money, and since Justin doesn’t know about it he can’t authorize its use. When I think about it, it’s the same way Brian treats Gus’ trust account as well. Both he and I have access. We took away Lindsay’s for obvious reasons, but when I told him he could use the money, he simply said, “That’s for Gus,” and that closed the matter. It makes me wonder just how many times Brian has suffered and struggled in silence. It also makes me wonder how many times the man in the backseat- for that is exactly what Justin is, A MAN- has done the same. It’s why I have no problem helping them out in any way that they will let me. Had this been Michael or Lindsay, the entire world would know they were unhappy and somehow they would feel entitled to a handout. But here we have their polar opposites, who are somehow still sane, and very rarely, if ever, ask for the help they are entitled to expect. It’s a conundrum!

While I’m still keeping an eye on Justin, I decided that Ben needs to know of the shitstorm Michael will be facing when he gets back. He’s another one that I don’t get in this whole equation. I can’t imagine that Ben knew what Michael was up to, but now that I think about it, none of us ever questioned just why Brian hit Michael. Something tells me that reason ties into this whole mess. I have to look at the books and see just what Michael has done. Teddy always says that people may lie, but numbers don’t, but in this case with some really creative cookbooking, Michael has managed to. It makes me wonder what else he’s hiding.

“Hey, Ben. I’m going to go over the accounting of the store and Rage with a friend of mine. They haven’t been done in a while and although Teddy will be coming home soon, none of us want to overwhelm him with this.” I listen as he tells me about the phone call from Michael he had a little while ago. “Oh, he has, has he? Well, I’ll tell you what, Ben. Since Michael wants to be all up in his midget arms about this, I think you should also bring your check registry. Something is rotten in the milk with this whole situation. I should be back at my office in about an hour and a half. See you then.”

I hang up. So Michael called to bring Ben up to date about what’s been going on at the store. When Ben told him that I’d called and needed to go over the books, he ordered him not to give out any codes or information to me or Emmett. When Ben told him that it was too late and that I would be going over the books within the next couple of days, he yelled and screamed at Ben that he should have consulted him before doing anything regarding his store. Ben found it a bit strange and definitely insulting since he’s been paying the mortgage on the store for the last year. He said he told Michael that they were going to have a serious talk when he returned and then asked me if it was possible to let him know the figures, especially the profit and loss projection. It makes me think that there isn’t something quite right in that quadrant of relationship bliss either.

I watch as Brian climbs into the back seat, immediately taking Justin into his arms. Seeing both the relief on Brian’s face and the feeling of safety on Justin’s, I once again wonder how any of us thought it was just sex between them. I start the car and pull out into traffic, taking the scenic route to get them back to the loft. There was no doubt they needed the reprieve from what was now their reality. I honestly keep hoping that someone finds out what really happened that caused Brian to lose his job, but Deb has been remarkably silent. I can’t help wondering if it was her yellow-bellied sapsucker of a son who had done this and asked her to keep quiet, would she have been able to.

It’s funny how cynically I’ve come to think of the people I’ve always regarded as family, when especially now, their true motives are showing to a degree. Debbie has always lauded that Brian is like a second son to her, and yet she, as the proud mom, is keeping silent? Yes, she’s helped out some with food, but how much will Brian and Justin owe her when all the shit comes out about Michael? Even though I, too, know what Brian and Justin did regarding Stockwell, it’s burning a hole in my gut not to say anything. Instead, I sit silently and admire the way they are handling everything. It’s the reason that I’m going to fight tooth and nail to get them back everything that’s owed them. Not because of my fee, as some would think, but because they actually deserve it.  

As I pull up to the front curb, Brian says, “I’m going to put him to bed for awhile and then order some furniture from a guy Emmett knows. So here at the loft at five is fine. We’ll be ready.”

CHAPTER SIX: WHEN GIVING UP ISN’T SO HARD TO DO AFTER ALL

BEN:

I can’t believe the way Michael just spoke to me a mere hour ago. He has a hell of a lot of nerve, literally biting the hand that has been keeping his hobby running. I checked in with Emmett and he confirmed everything that Mel has told me… and more! There’s an adage that says: What you do in the dark will come to the light. And now I think it’s past time to shed some light on one seemingly big cockroach. Where is a giant can of HUMAN Raid when you need one?!

I will not sit here in the lobby of Mel’s office and deny that I am pissed off. Nor will I deny that I’m just a bit more heartbroken than I have been in the weeks where I have heard from Hunter, but not from my husband. But hearing Emmett describe in succinct detail exactly what they discovered on the secret accounting log of Michael’s computer… well, now doesn’t that drive home a point. As I think back over it all now, I’m so glad that I never took Michael up on his offer of the trip to Vermont. Beyond what he did to Justin, there’s just no way we can come back from this now. Once Hunter gets back, I will find a way to keep him with me and out of the hands of Rita. I’ll figure it out somehow, but Michael will no longer be part of the equation. From my view, and from all that Hunter has related so far, he never really was.

“Ben, come on in. We’re ready for you now,” Mel tells me, holding the conference room door open for me to walk through.

I already feel the weight increase upon my shoulders in anticipation of finding out just what Michael has been up to. When I first arrived, I handed Mel my check register without a word or sound. It was hard to realize that somehow, as intelligent as I proclaim to be and others think I am, that I’ve been played as the ultimate fool. I never should have fallen for those damn puppy eyes and starry-eyed innocence, or taken anything Michael has ever said at face value. I’ve learned in the past few hours that with Michael, everything tends to have a hidden meaning, despite the litany of meaningless platitudes of apology he verbalizes to excuse his boorishness. I can’t count how many times I have had to cloak and cover for him so that the men he calls his friends don’t just either kick his ass, or leave him without any. It doesn’t help that he’s learned how not to own up to anything through enforced, prolonged conditioning.

For the most part, I love Deb. I really do, but if Michael learned anything at her knee, it was how to become an effective emotional bully. I’ve watched her deflect moral responsibility and divert blame to anyone, including me, who does not choose to march to Michael’s tune, like the good little soldier she is. It’s like she feels that if she has to suffer for his unhappiness, then we all should suffer right along with her until someone, namely Brian, makes his world right again. Unfortunately, the only time she’s not on board the Michael Whine Express is when something he does directly affects her. It’s the reason I’m not looking forward to the fallout of this news at all.   

“So what’s the verdict?” I ask, as I sit down opposite Mel and her colleague, Janean.

“Well Ben, it’s as Janean and I were thinking, but I need to know something from you. How did you end up paying the mortgage on the store full-time?”

“At first, it was only supposed to be a loan. As we all know Michael and Justin had a falling out and Justin refused to work with Michael anymore. Oh, he tried to get Justin to agree, even after he deliberately sabotaged Justin’s relationship with Brian.”

“Sabotaged?” Mel gasps, and I nod.

“That’s exactly what happened. All Michael did was see Ethan kiss Justin on the street the day they were hanging posters. Now as we both know, although I’m not sure you explained it all to Janean…” At both of their nods, I continue. “Brian and Justin had an open relationship. Although most of us don’t agree with the concept, it seemed at the time to be working for them. And the rules for those kind of relationships are solely up to the people participating in them, and not to be scrutinized by those of us not in the know. But somehow when it comes to Brian and Justin, Michael has this ridiculous double standard that allows for Brian to go on being the Stud while Justin was supposed to be eternally celibate until Brian was available. Now that I think about it, I believe that should Michael have ever gotten what he wanted, he would have been as he expected Justin to be.

“Anyway, Michael came home fuming, literally frothing at the mouth about it. Strangely, it reminded me of when Michael found out about Brian and I…”

“Wait! What about you and Brian?”

“You mean you don’t know?” She shakes her head, but I can see when realization widens her eyes. “Yes, it was at the White Party four years before I ever met Michael. I can see that of all the things he spews about other people and their business, he neglected to mention that his own partner had a go with the man he most wants, while the only thing that has ever happened between them will remain an unfinished handjob for him.”

“Eww!!!! I don’t even want to know about that!” Mel exclaims as Janean snickers.

“Why do you think Michael is still so insistent that Brian isn’t in a relationship?” I ask her.

“Well first there was David… and now there’s you… and”

“Was,” I say quietly. “There was me, Mel. David and I were nothing more than placeholders for his fantasy that will never happen. It hurts, but there it is.”

“Then perhaps that’s all I ever was, too,” she whispers, and I can see exactly where her thinking went.

“Not the same, Mel. We both know that Brian will never do Lindsay again. He’s no longer twenty-one, and he’s now very sure of who he is.”

“But I suspect she’s not.”

“Then it won’t be Brian, and I know you know that.” The silent understanding between us says all there’s left to say on that matter, so I move on. “But back to how Michael sabotaged Brian and Justin’s relationship. It turns out that Brian had told Justin about us from the White Party so that Justin wouldn’t be surprised by it. At first I didn’t really understand why, but as I began to know Michael a little bit more and to study his dynamic within the group, I realized that any hidden secret is liable to come out of Michael’s mouth at any given inopportune time, especially if it could hurt someone who he considered unimportant or in his way. So yes, it was better that Brian told Justin before Michael did.”

“I can certainly see the logic in that, since Lindsay is the same way, only a bit more subtle,” Melanie confirmed.

“Exactly. So when Michael mentioned that he’d seen Justin and Ethan kissing, I told him to leave it alone. I specified that it was not his business and that whatever it was, it was not his place to tell Brian anything.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “That started the But I’m his best friend… You don’t understand litany, right?”

“How did… Lindsay?”

“Every damn time.”

“So anyway, Michael told him, and the next thing we know the Rage party breakup happened. I really do wonder how the hell Ethan Gold knew to show up though, and at the exact moment he did.”

“I would say that it was a coincidence but…”

“Yeah, I don’t feel like it was either.” It was my turn to sigh as I thought about the events of that night. “So now that brings me to the question of happens where my money is concerned?”

“There are two options that I’m going to present Brian and Justin with, and I think you may want to consider at least one of them as well.”

“Is Justin going to bring charges against Michael for embezzlement, and will they need my check registry as evidence?”

“I’m going to advise him to do that if Michael refuses the first option.”

“Which is?”

Janean speaks then. “Mr. Novotny will have to sign over the store, the current and future inventory, and half of the collectibles within the display cases. According to this spreadsheet we acquired, which incidentally we had to file to get the records subpoenaed immediately, which is what took us so long in meeting with you, his collection alone is worth almost one-hundred thousand dollars. That doesn’t include the inventory of the store, or the collectables still with boxes that according to Emmett has arrived at various times over the past two months. We’ve requested that those also be obtained and appraised through a court order. In addition to that, he will also have to sign over his share of Rage, which is only fair since he’s cheated Justin out of his. Right now, this is not a criminal case because of how we worded the order, but if Mr. Novotny tries to skip out on paying the restitution, it will quickly become one since I will advise Misters Taylor and Kinney to file a police report and submit all of the evidence I have to date.”

I whistle low. Michael is in some serious shit. “You ladies are really playing hard ball with him.”

“In order for Michael to learn, we have to,” Mel says, and I can’t argue or disagree with her.

“It’s sad to say, but I can tell you now that you might as well advise Justin to file the police report. If Michael wasn’t even adult enough to pay the rent on his own store for his livelihood to continue, what would make any of us think he would do the right thing and relinquish even one of the collectables? Michael doesn’t deal in logic. He’ll feel as though he’s done nothing wrong. In his warped mind he’ll reason that because Justin took away his favorite toy, he, in turn, had the right to take something of value away from Justin. Michael didn’t just take away Justin’s money. I’m willing to bet that Justin feels bashed all over again, only this time, instead of a known enemy, it happened at the hands of a supposed friend.”     

VIC:

I’m here at the request of my resident pain in the ass that I love dearly. Of course that is as a result of her own pain in the ass who would try to crawl back in her birth canal if he could… ANYTHING to keep from growing up. This time it’s about Brian cancelling his auto insurance. I’m pretty sure that there was more to the conversation, but between her screeching and his whining, God couldn’t even make heads or tails of that mess. So I’m here to get the basics from the apparent source of all Novotny misery… please notice I did NOT say Grassi.

You see, here’s the thing. Deborah Jane Grassi is able to reason; Deborah Jane Novotny is NOT. If it affects Michael’s life negatively, more than likely through every fault of his own, well, Mama Bear just must jump in to save her cub, even at the risk of making others responsible who have absolutely nothing to do with his supposed plight. Unfortunately, that usually means that Brian does. It’s because Brian is like a lion; he doesn’t bend, break or back down. And he’s found the perfect mate for himself, even if he hasn’t yet admitted to himself. Justin is made of the same stern stuff. The problem is that the jackass cub is trying to fill a role he’s not even remotely qualified to fill, and he hides behind my sister while trying to force his way in.

The good news is that Emmett told me to meet him here and I would have all of my answers. So whereas Deb thinks it’s as a favor to her, in reality it’s really for me. There’s no question that Michael’s actions have once again written a check his ass can’t cash, but the question is what’s it going to cost Brian this time? I hate to think that, but there it is. I didn’t get to be my age, involved with a wonderful man, newly successful once I took my fucking foot out of the grave, and finally free of the Deb-induced guilt I’d been living under for as long as I can remember, by lying to myself. I know my sister as well as I know most people, and I know her son even better. This is not as cut and dry as he’s made it out to be, and I know Brian doesn’t simply act callous without a good reason. I look forward to hearing it, and yet at the same time, dread it. I shake my head at that contradictory thought.

I knock on the door and wait for it to be answered. I got lucky when I arrived because the Super was coming out. Jose and I go way back, and at my request he has been keeping me abreast of the goings on around here. Although he doesn’t exactly know what Brian and Justin did, he does know that it must have been big. He confided once that he’d witnessed Jim Stockwell in the business, in the company of a bald man. Jose called me the moment they left and told me to warn Brian about what they planned. Unfortunately, I was too late, and Brian lost his job the next day. So he’s been keeping an eye on things for me, helping to make sure that the boys have everything they need. He’s not particularly fond of my nephew, and has vowed to keep him out once he returns from wherever the hell he is.

I will be honest. Although there is still the menace of Rita Montgomery looming over Hunter, I don’t believe that Michael is staying away solely for Hunter’s benefit. I haven’t heard from them, but Ben has. He told me that Hunter has told him that if they don’t return within the week, he’s going to go hustle in order to get some money for bus fare and come back to Pittsburgh on his own. I have to ask Ben exactly what Hunter’s said has been going on with Michael. Usually there is always some hidden meaning in the frequent code words and phrases, and based on my gut feeling, Michael is up to something that has nothing to do with Hunter. But that will have to wait, as I finally hear the locks to the loft turning. Brian looks startled to see me, until I smirk at him.

“Let me guess,” he says by way of greeting. “He called her.”

“Did you really expect otherwise, son? You did something to upset her little prince. By the way, Emmett is on his way with a veritable feast. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

“There’s a lot. Some good, some bad. You know the drill.”

I can tell that he’s trying to avoid telling me which of course means my hunches have been right yet again in reference to Michael. I sigh. “What’s he done this time? And no deflecting!” I order.

“Come on in and have a seat and I’ll tell you as much as Justin and I know so far. It isn’t pretty,” he says.

“I know, but this place sure is!” I exclaim as I move further into the loft. It looks showroom worthy. “Windfall?”

Brian smiled. “No, just a gem of a friend. Emmett recommended that I call this guy he knows, so we have all of this on loan. Mel and her attorney friend, Janean, will be along in a bit. I think we should probably wait until they get here to discuss the situation with Michael.”

“Did you cancel the insurance on the car yet?”

“How did… nevermind. I have every intention of doing so. Michael crossed a fucking ocean instead of a small line this time. And what’s worse is that it hurt Justin. I don’t give a shit about Michael hurting me, but to hurt Justin the way he has… Anyway, would you like something to drink? Have you taken your meds yet?”

And see, that’s what I mean about Brian. My nephew would never have even thought to ask those questions, since neither thing affects his own wants, needs, or wishes. “No, Bri, I’m okay for now. Besides, Emmett is on his way with food, so I’ll eat a little something when he gets here.”

He nods and we talk about inconsequential things for awhile until Justin comes down from the bedroom. His eyes are a little red and puffy, but he looks okay for the most part. He comes over to give me a kiss on the cheek before going into the kitchen to put on some coffee. Brian’s gaze shifts to watch him. His gaze is both loving and guarded as he regards Justin moving around the kitchen area, grabbing a tray and three cups. When I catch his gaze, he tells me a little of what’s been happening.

“Justin had an episode today. It was intense, and after he had his meltdown, he had a vicious headache.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I can go if you guys want…”

“No, Vic. We want you here, even if it’s not for the best of reasons right now.”

I don’t get a chance to ask what he meant by that as the buzzer picks that moment to start ringing. Justin goes over to let their guests in while Brian brings over the tray with the coffee. As they file in, greeting Justin and asking after his well-being, I’m surprised by the last person to arrive, with both of his arms full of Emmett’s creations.

“Ben? What are you doing here?” I ask, as I rush over to help him.

“Hey, Vic. I suppose my reason is almost the same as yours. Michael’s in shit again, but this time, I don’t think any of us are going to bail him out of it. I know I’m not even willing to try.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Even worse than you could imagine this time.”

“Well, now that we’re all gathered, someone wanna fill me in at long last?” I ask, as I move back over to my seat on the sofa.

I’m puzzled when Mel says, “Okay, Justin, you have two options: Take the store, all of its current and future inventory, half of his collection, and the rights for Rage, or file the police report and let the law deal with him. To answer your question Vic, Michael’s been embezzling and cheating Justin out of the Rage profits since the very first issue. He changed the original contract to justify keeping over ninety percent of the profits and there is something else. Ben’s been paying the mortgage on the store for over a year, but that’s not the worst of it… Brian, I’m sorry to tell you this, but further down on that ledger are several figures for profits, including a Mies Van de Rohe table, an IBM computer, and a Philippe Starck juicer, a full Armani Fall Collection, just to name a few. Bottom line is that many of the items were the same listed on your police report back when the loft was broken into. It looks like he’s been building a nest egg for the two of you for a long time.”

And that was about the very last thing that I had expected to hear today. Holy fucking shit!  

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE MERRY GO ROUND HAS BROKEN DOWN

HUNTER:

Home at last! Well it would be considered that, if I had a home. For the last two months, it’s been drilled in my head that I really don’t. In fact, it’s been said over and over again to other people. Everywhere we went, I was ‘oh, that’s just some homeless kid, I picked up. He has his uses though,’ or ‘His mother is a crackhead; he’s a hustler. So I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree there.’ But his absolute favorite, and the one that really scares me the most has been,  ‘By the time we get back to Pittsburgh, maybe Ben will realize that you’re more trouble than you’re worth!’ It’s not that I can’t take care of myself. I have been doing that for myself, by myself, since the tender age of ten. It’s just that, when Ben could have taken advantage of what I was offering, he didn’t. He was the very first man that I’d ever offered myself to, or was forced upon me, that didn’t forget that I was a kid, in favor of getting his needs met. Sure, I came away with money, but with Ben, I came away with something even better at the time. A coat! It was what I needed even more than food at the time, and with Ben, I had plenty of that, too.

I think the thing that disturbs me the most, since I naturally distrust people, is that Michael managed to fool everyone, including me. In front of others, he comes off as this really caring person, always willing to lend a helping hand or have a kind word. He’s not a troll, so he uses his looks of innocence to his utmost advantage even at his thirty year old age. But if any of them bothered to really look closely instead of remaining prey to his dubious charm, they would see the cold, calculating cunt he really is. That, and so much more has been revealed to me in the time we have been away... like his real motive for taking me away.

It wasn’t only about taking me away from Ben, but trying to force Brian to choose him over Blondie. I mean, I haven’t been around that long, but even Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles could see that Michael doesn’t stand a chance of that happening. Hell add Jose Feliciano and Andreas Bocelli to them along with the three blind mice and you’ll have a choir squeaking and singing in really great voices about what an idiotic asshole he is. It would certainly be worth the price of admission to hear that! But on a serious note, pardon the pun, but one would think that the lack of phone calls from his best friend over the past two months would have been his first clue that he doesn’t register on Brian’s relationship radar; that there is simply no competition to be had because he just doesn’t rate. But not for Michael.

His chronic agitation and overactive imagination has him believing that Blondie has Brian held hostage and was simply not letting Brian pick up the phone. I would say that Michael is delusional, but no! He’s absolutely sane! Greedy and entitled, yes, but crazy he is not, even though his hair-brained schemes could be construed as such. The shock he received this afternoon should have driven home the point that Brian is a man who still does what he wants to do. But of course, that was completely disregarded in favor of what Michael still wants to believe. Instead of desperation breeding strange bedfellows, it’s just multiplying the dust mites sitting comfortably in the cavity where Michael’s brain should be talking him out of his abject stupidity.

When the call came in from Brian, I was just stepping onto the terrace of the place we’ve been staying in since the day after we’d left Pittsburgh. It was with this guy that Michael knows named Lance Freeman, who lives off the coast of North Carolina. I have to admit that the place was great, but the price I paid for being there… well it wasn’t. The thing about comic book geeks, even those who are well-off like Lance, is that many of them can’t climb out of the cartooned pages long enough to go get laid on their own. Either someone has to find their tricks for them, or they arrange to have a friend visit. So Michael choosing the place wasn’t quite as innocuous as he originally wanted me to believe. At some point, I decided that if I was going to be treated as a hustler, than I was going to reap the monetary reward as one.

The only highlight for me was that I could sneak and use the phone to call Ben when I wasn’t being watched constantly. In retrospect, Michael had to keep me contained so that his secrets and plans wouldn’t lose their element of surprise. Only he wasn’t counting on the fact that I was tired of being under his thumb, or that I would be infinitely pissed about what I’d overheard during Michael’s screeching tirade to Lance following phone call asking for the code to his computer. So with a little bit of blackmail and a conniving trick of my own, and I’m back in the Pitts with money to spare. Michael and Lance should wake up tomorrow afternoon sometime, but by the time they do, I’ll have been long gone, having left no trace that I’ve been there. But Michael will have a whole other problem when he finally realizes that the one person who has about as much loyalty to him as he does to me, has escaped his little web of lies.

So getting off the bus at the terminal, I had a couple of choices. Although I want to see Ben in the worse way, I decide to head to the loft. What I have to say can’t wait, nor should it. You see, although I have lied, and yes, even sometimes stolen from people to survive, I still try to be as honest as I can. Many people my age don’t think about Heaven or Hell, but I do. If at the end of my life Satan is planning to roast me on the end of his pitchfork, I want to at least give myself a chance of pleading my case to God. Weird, I know, but it’s how I see it. Hailing a cab with a backpack full of my worldly possessions, which should tell you just what my life has been amounting to, I give the address to the home of Brian and Blondie.

I must not have realized how tired and wound up I was, because before I can even register that I was asleep, the cab driver wakes me and tells me we have arrived. He was nice about it where I would imagine other people wouldn’t be, even asked me if I wanted him to wait. Niceness in people always causes me to be wary of their motivations, so I was about to snap at him. But then I really look at him and notice that he has kind eyes, a lot like Vic and Ben. So I smile and thank him for the lift before sending him on his way. But he seems reluctant to let me go, at first.

He hands me his card. “My name’s James Fillmore.”

“Hunter Montgomery. James Hunter Montgomery,” I find myself telling him, much to my own amazement.

“Well, young man who shares my name, if you ever need anything, give me a call. My wife, Glenda, is always looking for someone else to nurture now that the last of our eight children has flown the coop. But even if that’s not the case, call anyway. Okay?”

Something in his eyes made me say, “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.” And I will, because if Michael was right, I will need someplace to stay. I want to go to school I want to be normal, which is something I’ve never been. I want to grow to be more than what I’ve become due to drug-induced narcissism and neglect at the hands of Rita. If Ben doesn’t want me anymore, maybe they will. But I just had to know...“Why?”

“One of ours ran away once because he was afraid to tell us something that made no difference to us...”

“Which was?”

“That he was into men, instead of women. I never understood the attraction to the same sex myself, but you know. He was still the son I raised, and I knew his heart was good. It was the only thing that ever mattered to Glenda and I- that we raised good, upstanding children. He’s in law school now, working as a paralegal at a law firm here in town. His gayness doesn’t make or break him. I see that same kind of determination in your eyes, James. So yes, I want to keep up with you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fillmore. I will keep in touch.”

“Promise? And the name is James, James.”

“I promise, and you can call me Hunter,” I tell him, smiling again.

“Hunter it is then. Call if you need a ride. I’m on all night since the wife is working. She’s a nurse down at Allegheny.

I nod and alight from the cab, thinking that maybe being named James isn’t so bad after all. I can’t help but turn back and give a little wave as he drives off. It felt good that someone looked past my circumstances and didn’t just write me off as a nobody the way many have done. Those eight children were damn lucky to have parents like the Fillmores. Many of us abandoned and used ones would have killed for them. Walking up to the front door of the building, I take a deep breath and press the buzzer.

“Who is it?” I recognize that voice immediately and smile.

“It’s me, Blondie. Let me up.”

JUSTIN:

My first inclination is to ask if Michael is with him. I’m sooooo not ready to see that bastard yet. I won’t be held responsible for what I do but the words justifiable homicide come to mind. I can’t imagine that any jury would convict me, due to all the verbal and mental abuse I’ve endured at his hands since the night I met him. Hearing his voice at full whine alone would prove my case. But regardless of all that, his actions would drive an insane man back to good sense just to kick the shit out of him. So it’s with a semi-heavy heart that I press the buzzer to let Hunter in.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m going to be happy to see Hunter. We’ve all been worried about him and the situation with Rita. If ever there was a woman who shouldn’t have been born with the ability to conceive, she definitely fits the bill. But then we wouldn’t have him, and somehow that seems even more unacceptable. Since first meeting him, our relationship has changed. He’s still that cocky kid who revels in being inappropriate, kind of like Brian. Brian hinted that if not for Debbie and Vic, he could have been Hunter. That thought alone gave me a new perspective on the arrogant, self-assured young man. Like the man who has my heart, that overt personality trait hides a wealth of insecurities. Whereas I love it in Brian, in Hunter it was a bit off-putting at first. Perhaps it was because of his age, or the world-weariness within his eyes the first time we met. I know I felt ill-prepared for some of the things which came out of his mouth, even after being with Brian. But as I got to know him by having a couple of conversations during the whole Stockwell planning phase of our lives, I discovered that I actually lucked out in the shitty parent department. Craig somehow looked like a saint compared to Rita, which was saying a whole lot considering the mental abuse I endured at his hands over the years. It was with that tenuous thread that he and I became friends.

The first thing he did when he got to the door was hug me tightly. He buried his face in my neck and I could feel the wetness from his tears leaking down my neck. I instantly went into nurturing mode with him, crooning softly that none of what was going on was his fault, and that we were happy to see him. I knew both from experience and from perception what it was like to feel like you were intruding and unwanted; I wasn’t about to let him think that he was either of those things. For as much as he’s a mini-adult, Hunter is still just a kid who needs reassurance that he has value beyond whatever purpose he can serve. Hell, most of us adults crave that kind of acceptance, so why shouldn’t this teen on the cusp of manhood?

“Come in. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, not yet. Whatcha got, Blondie?”

“Em cooked for us.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt a romantic dinner or anything.”

“You aren’t. It’s a meeting of sorts,” I say as I usher him into the living room. I can tell the exact moment he sees everyone, including Ben. Wariness is radiating from his body as he stops and stares at the man, who he longs to be his father.

“How are you, Ben?” he says, hesitantly.

“Fine. Is Michael with you?”

He stiffens. “No. I left him and Lance hugged up off the coast of North Carolina. Well I guess he was right.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“He told me repeatedly that I didn’t matter in the grand scheme of your life and that your only concern was for his well-being.”

“Still lying, I see. And who the hell is Lance?”

I can tell that Hunter is hurt, so I place my hand on his shoulder to reassure him again. “It’s not you he means about the lying, man. We were discussing a few things that you might not be aware of…”

“I know about the phone call this afternoon. I was on the terrace of the place we’d been staying since we left here. For the record Lance is a fellow comic geek of Michael’s that he’s been visiting for years. They are…”

“They’re lovers?”

“In a manner of speaking. Lance has trouble leaving comic world except to run his internet business from his mansion. Michael fills a void when Lance remembers that having a dick serves a purpose other than pissing.” Hunter turns to Ben. “I left there just to come here and give Brian and Justin some information. I’ll do that and be out of here so I don’t trouble you further.”

“What? You just got here, Hunter.” He bites his lip and thinks about his reaction to Hunter being there. Dropping his eyes, he shakes his head. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Son. I didn’t mean to make it seem as though I’m not happy you’re standing here. I’m just so fucking fucked off!”

Hunter seems to understand Ben’s state of mind because he says, “You’re not the only one.” He looks around, taking in the faces. “I’m glad you’re all here. This will make it easier to tell this story only once.”

“Well, before we do anything, I’m going to give the littlest hustler a hug,” Brian says as he crosses the room. “How the hell have you been surviving? Go get something to eat and sit down before you fall down.”

He smiles gratefully at Brian, before greeting people on the way to the kitchen. Ben still has yet to move from over by the window. I go over to talk to him. “Ben, I know you’re pissed but you can’t take it out on Hunter, especially since he’s not the source of it.”

“I know, and I don’t mean to. I’m just afraid that I will hurt him. I feel like I need to hit something and it’s been a long time since I felt this way. Not since…”

“Roid rage. Only this time you can’t blame the drugs. Believe me, I understand more than you know. I’m still a little bit pissed at Brian for stopping me earlier, but he was right. Me lashing out at Michael in a way that would have ended with me having to pay him wasn’t the best way to go about things, no matter how justified. So I’m going to say something similar to you. Making Hunter pay for the anger you feel towards Michael is not right. He’s your son in all but name; you should show him that.”  

I can tell when my words register with him. Although Brian wouldn’t physically assault me, he used to do the same thing Ben is doing now, and it hurts just as bad if not worse, because it leaves scars that you can’t see. For someone insecure and not sure of their place, emotional withdrawal is just as damaging as being punched repeatedly. In fact, it tends to make you feel like someone stabbed you and left you for dead, or in my case, hit with a bat with that exact intention. Apologies may put a band-aid on the wound, but as soon as it happens again, the scab formed gets ripped open and the implied insult cuts deeper. For Hunter, that’s happened to him more times than anyone should be allotted in their lifetime.

“Justin, how did you know about…?” Ben halts his progress to ask me.

“Contrary to popular belief, Brian and I do more than fuck. We actually have conversations more than we do that.” I smile at him to soften the blow of my words. Then add, “But don’t tell anyone; it would ruin our mystique.”

He snickers and turns to go find his son just as Brian comes over to me by the window. I place a kiss to his lips before sighing deeply. “We need to call Mom.”

“Why?”

“Aside from letting her know about our plans, she may be the only one who can get Debbie to see reason. Some things only another mother would know or be able to understand. At this point, if anyone would be able to get Deb to face the truth about Michael, it would be my mom.”

“I guess it’s that whole estrogen thing?”

“No, but the umbilical cord theory. Instead of cutting it, I snatched mine out where Mom was concerned by taking up with you despite her objections. Debbie will never cut her umbilical cord to Michael away, but continue to be strangled by it as long as he keeps jerking on it whenever it suits him. She’s going to have to decide whether she wants to continue to be suffocated at his whim or finally break free and let him reap what he sows.”

“Your analogies and metaphors are both accurate and disturbing with the images they conjure, Sunshine. But I see your point. I do know this though… she’s not going to be able to yank my chain this time. I’m done. I’m not going to continue being forced to make a choice between Michael and me. I realize now that every time... it wasn’t so much expecting, but demanding that I fix Michael’s life for him at the risk of my sanity and self-respect. Everything I was working on, or working towards had to go on hold if I expected to keep ties to her. Well, not anymore. If putting myself first without guilt or worry means losing Deb means then that what’s going to happen. I will go on and happily live my life free and clear of a debt that I have spent more than half my life repaying. Thanks to a fiery ball of Sunshine, I can honestly say I’m not afraid to shake the dust off my feet and move on. Speaking of which…”

I smile at him full-on. It’s the revelation I’ve been hoping he would eventually get since I first started seeing the underlying dynamics within the group I call the family. I know that it’s going to hurt like hell when Brian has to choose himself over the person who patched him up more times that he could count thanks to Jack’s drunken fists, but I’m just happy to know that he’s finally choosing himself. If I’m included in his decision to do so… well, I just won the damn emotional lottery with that.

As he grabs his phone, I look at him a bit puzzled. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making good on a promise. In the meantime, you go on and call Mother Taylor. I believe that you are right, and sometimes only a mother will do. In this case, it’s Deb’s peer, so perhaps she’ll be inclined to look at the fact with a critical eye instead of those rose-colored glasses she dons whenever Mikey is involved.”

I nod and go towards the bedroom to collect my cell phone. As I come back, I hear, “Hello, this is Brian Kinney and I’d like to cancel the insurance on my Corvette, effective immediately.”  

CHAPTER EIGHT: COMING TOGETHER

MELANIE:

“Sure thing, Judge Stone. I will tell her.” Janean looked positively triumphant once she disconnected the call.

“Well?”

“Harry says that you owe him. He’ll collect at the charity poker game next month.”

“Shit! That means my last pair of Manolos are soon to be a thing of the past.” I shake my head wryly.

Although it’s the worst kept secret within the County, Judge Harold Stone is also the reigning Queen of Drag. As Lucinda Lush, he has raised millions for not only the LGBT community but for thousands of inner-city teens to have a choice of college or trade school rather than end up a statistic. What’s ironic is that he’s a straight man who works harder for our community than most gay people I know. He takes the motto of ‘No child left behind’ to include all people, as long as they have love in their hearts, and the determination to succeed regardless of their circumstances.

When I told him of the circumstances of Brian and Justin, he actually stood up in his office and applauded them. He’d been trying to find a way to keep Stockwell out of public office for a number of years, but couldn’t find a way without going through illegal means. So he admired the young men who had risked everything but succeeded in finally ousting the corrupt Police Chief. And the fact that it was done legally and by the book, using the simple method of using facts to create doubt instead of the usual yellow journalism and mudslinging, raised their esteem even higher in his eyes.

So this afternoon, I took a page out of their book and presented Judge Stone with the cold hard facts in reference to this new injustice against his favorite LGBT couple to date. I gave chapter and verse about the history between Brian and Michael, then told the unadulterated truth about Brian and Justin’s relationship. To say he was engrossed would be an understatement, but to say that he was angry on their behalf would be an even bigger one. He was ready to throw the book at Michael immediately, but I explained why Brian and Baby wanted to give the offer of restitution first and foremost. He told me to give him a few hours to process all of the information and do a little fact checking of his own. I accepted the terms without hesitation, but I never thought he would ask for a pair of shoes I’d only worn once in exchange for his help. But I have a feeling that there is more to his request than meets the eye. It’s something I will have to examine later. In the meantime, all of Michael’s records will be legally confiscated, along with his computer. Shit there was so much to do!

“Don’t worry, Mel. Jules is already on her way,” Janean tells me before turning to Emmett. “Em, do you have the keys to Red Cape Comics with you?”

“Sure do. Why, Sweetie?”

“Because I have a forensic accountant and a few friends of ours on their way here to collect them. Judge Stone gave us the go ahead to collect all of Michael’s accounting records and his computer. Although he’s willing to give you, Brian and Justin, time to settle this out of court, he’s not willing to wait until Michael gets back into to town to get the ball rolling on this. He’s already said that justice will be strong and swift no matter in which direction he decides to deal with this matter.”

“That’s great, but I have two questions: why did we need the court order to subpoena the records when Justin is co-owner of the Rage franchise and has the right to look at them at any time per his contract, and who the hell is Judge Stone?” Brian asks. I can tell that he’s not being sarcastic but genuinely puzzled by why we involved law enforcement in any manner when we decided to keep this fairly quiet for now.

“You are correct, Brian. Justin is allowed to look at the records at any time, but we had to ask Judge Stone because of the hidden records that Emmett stumbled across. In reviewing them, the records have very significant discrepancies. In order to find out what’s fact and what’s fiction between the two, we need a forensic accountant to follow the money. Unfortunately, Ted, who is highly qualified to do this type of work is unavailable as you know. Aside from being the most qualified, he also would have been able to remember purchases and receipts that Michael would have had to submit and would have caught this long before now, due to his MLD…”

“MLD?” Justin asks and I laugh.

“Yes. Ted has a Michael Lie Detector. It’s a radar much like you have where Brian is concerned, not that he lies, unless it’s to himself, of course. Anyway, Ted once told me that Michael has all these tells which he uses when he’s covering up something. He has the ability to ask questions so benignly that Michael would never catch on that Ted is leading him to outing the whole truth of matters. It’s how he, along with Emmett’s help, got the entire truth out of Michael concerning the whole David matter.”

Brian huffs. “Where’s Theodore when you need him?” He rolls his eyes. “So now it’s all a matter of waiting?”

“Yes and no. The good news that we’ve already indicated what Jules has to look for. But…”

Hunter interrupted. “Is this about the phone call earlier?”

“Partially. I know that you said you had some information for Brian and Justin…”

“Yeah,” he confirms before turning to them. “Remember that guy I mentioned?”

“Lance?”

“Yeah, well here’s the thing. He has all this really neat stuff that he bought off of Michael some time ago. I think he said that it’s how he and Michael actually met. The thing I found most strange is that it wasn’t comics that originally connected them. Imagine my surprise to find out that Lance Freeman was originally from here.”

“Lance Freeman?!” Brian exclaims out of the blue. “What the fuck has that clown got to do with anything?”

“Well if you had let me finish... but wait! You know him?” Hunter gasps.

“Damn fucking right I do, if it’s the same one I thinking of.”

“Tall, big teeth, kinda gangly? Has two moles: one on the side of his face where a dimple would be while the other is in the middle of his forehead? Oh and he seems to talk and laugh with this fucking annoying snort that really makes him sound like a braying jackass.”

“You have got to be kidding me?” Justin snickers.

“I wish he was, but he’s not lying,” Brian sighs. “Yeah, I know that little stalking bastard, Freeman. He used to go to high school with Michael and me, then followed me to college at Carnegie Mellon. I had to rearrange my entire class schedule my sophomore and junior years because he kept showing up in my classes. I still can’t figure out how he was doing it. Anyway, I took a full load during the summer so I could graduate early and transfer to Penn State graduate school. I didn’t tell anyone I was going, just seemingly disappeared for two years, only coming home during the holidays and the occasional school break.”

“I remember that time!” Emmett interjects. “I had just met Michael, who kept going on and on about his best friend. Was really despondent because he seemed to be going off and iving his life while not remember that he had people who loved him waiting for him at home. So imagine my surprise when the best friend turned out to be the guy I…”

“Honeycutt!”

“You mean you and Em…” Justin gasps.

Emmett smiled wide. “You know that makes two of us. And that’s all I will confirm or deny about that, Big Bad. Now you on the other hand have some explaining, and perhaps demonstrating, to do, Ricky, preferably when all of us have gone home for the evening.”

Brian smiled and snickered before he continued. “Anyway, the next time I saw him was in the hallway of Ryder Advertising my third year there. Then it became stalker central until he managed to get himself fired.”

“How did he do that?”

“Following me into the men’s room. Ryder was in the bathroom while I was fighting off the advances of the little nerd who couldn’t. I thought that was the last I would ever hear his name, but apparently I was wrong. So what’s he got to do with this, Hunter?”

“Michael is the one who was feeding him information about you all those years ago… and he still is. He knew about this place being robbed and your twink who has overstayed his welcome. Those were his and Michael’s exact words. They’ve been trying to get rid of Justin since night one. Even though Lance can’t have you, the plan was that he would live vicariously through Michael. There’s even like this fucking shrine to you in his house, which includes suits that I think you would like. There was this dark green one which almost looked black that they were just drooling over. I recognized it because I’ve seen you wear a similar suit only it looks newer and is slightly broader cut than the one they have. I’m guessing your shoulders have buffed out the last few years?”

“Yeah they have,” Justin confirms before Brian has a chance to. The scorching look that passes between Brian and Baby could melt the Arctic Circle before Vic’s subtle throat-clearing brings them back into focus. Justin shuts his eyes for a moment and shakes himself causing the rest of us to laugh. “What? You all can’t blame me, can you? Besides I’m twenty so it’s perfectly natural that I’m a walking hormone.”

I laugh. “I can buy that, Baby. But back to the matter at hand. I have to ask you this, Brian. And bear in mind that it’s okay if you don’t remember exactly, but do you remember taking the alarm code off the door?”

Justin gasps as the inclination of my question resonates with Brian. “No. The alarm code was off which is precisely what caused the issue between Brian and I in the first place.”

“But there was something else,” Brian says. We all watch as realization dawns on him. “Justin, I… I wrongly accused you of something you didn’t do.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Remember when I told you that when you come in or go out, you have a thirty second window between the time the alarm disarms and the time it resets? Well the way the alarm system works is that there is a secondary code you would have had to put in to keep that from happening. I didn’t give it to you, figuring you would never need it. Michael is the only one who knew it, having been here when I set the codes in the first place. I never changed it from when I first moved in years ago. Not even Lindsay has it. In fact, I hadn’t used it unless I was moving furniture in. The last time was when the guys came to take…” And there’s no need for him to continue because it’s abundantly clear.

I clear the anger I feel welling up within my throat. So fucking unfair! All of it! Brian has worked so damn hard and for it to be constantly taken away by both friend and foe is just… I sigh deeply trying to collect myself. “So basically all roads lead to Michael.”

“If it helps, I remember where the guy lives,” Hunter offers.

“No. I don’t want the stuff back. It’s tainted now in ways that I don’t even want to imagine, having been with that pocket protector wearing pussy. But I do want the person responsible to pay me back every fucking red cent the way Justin did. By the way, Sunshine, you and I really need to talk about that money, but not right now. Is there anyway to prove that he sold my stuff to Lance?”

“Michael is probably the world’s dumbest criminal or the smartest fucking penny-pinching bastard ever to walk the face of the earth. Not only did he record the money in The Real Rage  document on the computer, but he actually stapled the bills of sale on the paper containing the itemized list in the physical ledger. It’s why we need the forensic accountant. She’ll figure out exactly where he’s holding the money.”

“Hmm… what if he isn’t? Justin asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask in turn.

“It’s just something you said about Michael building a nest egg for the two of them. Brian has expensive tastes and even slightly used he would have kept the items immaculate. I’m guessing this Lance guy would have seen that and bought the items, paying top dollar without batting an eyelash. From the sounds of it, he just wanted tangible pieces of Brian since he would never have the real thing. As for Michael, what does he love even more than Brian? Money, and lots of it. So putting myself in his shoes, which is really stomach-churning if I think about it too closely... if it were me, I would invest it so it would increase over time and yield a hefty return when I’m ready for it.”

“What would you invest in, Sunshine?” Brian asks me, and I can see he knows where Justin is going with this.

“The embezzled Rage profits takes care of the cash-on-hand, but even though he sold your stuff, he would still need to hide the income somewhere no one would ever think to look. And let’s not forget that Michael is all about acquiring things that appreciate in value; his collectables are an example of that. So I think Michael invested in real estate. I think he bought a house for the two of you and has maybe been setting it up consistently over time. Well, at least since the first year we were together. What better way to entice you away from me than to give you somewhere else to go? It’s why you were hellbent on getting that job in New York, remember?”

And wouldn’t you know that everything Justin said makes perfect fucking sense. It also proves that Michael had all of us snowed, unless… Holy shit! Someone else has been putting thoughts into his head… and it’s either Deb or Lindsay!

CHAPTER NINE: NO DEPOSIT, NO RETURN

JENNIFER:

As I replay the voicemail from Justin for the third time, I’m still a bit puzzled. It wasn’t so much what he said, but the inflections in his voice that has me wanting to march over to the loft and shake him. He said that some things are coming down the pipe and he’s going to need me to handle Debbie as a fellow mother. Of course that means that Michael has fucked up again, but for him to put me up to dealing with Debbie? Well, I simply can’t wait to hear about this latest drama with Brian’s best friend.

I shake my head as I head to the wine fridge to pour myself a large glass of red. I hate those damn Realtor dinners where it’s all about schmoozing. It’s not that I’m not good at handling them since they increase my business, but it’s that they remind me too much of the boring business dinners Craig used to demand of me when he needed his trophy wife to be on full display. Thankfully, I’m out of that particular shit, but now it’s dealing with a bunch of pretentious assholes on the same level as I am. Part of me is gratified that I’m making strides in my chosen profession, but the other half wishes for nothing more than being able to skip this part of the process.

I’m about to settle on the sofa and put my feet up when I hear the doorbell ring. Automatically panic begins to clog my throat that it’s in reference to one of my children. Molly is staying over at a friend’s house, but Justin… I know he’s at the loft, but since the bashing it only takes a phone call or a ringing doorbell after normal WASP visiting hours to have me spooked. I’m surprised when I open the door and see not only Judge Harold Stone, but some other men and women with him. I could tell from their manner of dress that this was not exactly a social visit. Each were garbed in high-quality suits or dresses that I would have bought myself. And although some looked familiar within the set of society I’ve been circling within for years, others did not.

“Good evening, Jennifer. May we come in? This won’t take long, I promise.”

“Su-sure.” I step aside and usher them into the parlor. I’m trying to slow my racing heart, but it’s taking longer than usual to do so. Sometimes having WASP breeding has it’s advantages, even if I do feel a fine sheen of perspiration on the back of my neck, and my hands suddenly feel a little clammy. Gathering my innate manner, I get my hostess duties out of the way first and foremost. “Please have a seat. May I offer you all something to drink?”

“No, thank you, dear. As we’ve said this won’t take long,” he tells me. “Due to the lateness of the hour, I’ll come straight to the point. It has been brought to our attention that your son and his partner are responsible for the downfall of former police chief Stockwell…”

“Yes,” I answer tersely. I know that I should have been a smidge more graceful, but if they are here to criticize what Brian and Justin have done for the community, they will find a whole lot more incivility right now!

“Calm down, Jennifer. This is not a call to upset you in any way. In fact, I think you will be most shocked and ultimately pleased by the reason for our visit. I’m sure that you are aware of all the charity work I participate in within the LGBT community and the inner-city. I am determined that the Pupil-to-Prison pipeline discontinue. Ironically, it doesn’t just involve children and adults without the resources to better themselves, but also runaways. Through some research, I have found that in Pittsburgh most of those runaways are of the gay population, and this saddens me."

“And me as well. I’m ashamed to admit that in the earlier years of Justin’s coming out, I was one of those parents that didn’t understand, and was married to probably the most homophobic man of my acquaintance, even if I didn’t know it at the time.”

“Indeed, but you have changed your tune marvelously over the years. And I also know that you are also active within the community to better the lives of those around you.”

I nodded and then thought, is this about a donation? “Forgive me for being so blunt, but what is this really about, Harold? And who are these people?”

He smiled wide. “I’m pleased to introduce you to the committee I work with in my charity endeavors. Each of them have also been affected by the work your son did along with Brian Kinney in reference to Jim Stockwell. You see, these men and women behind me are the parents of people who ended up like Jason Kemp, as well as his own sister and her husband.” I look around to each of them and realize that some of them are about my age or a little older. There is one couple though who look to be about Brian’s age. The younger woman addressed me.

“Hello, Ms. Taylor. I am Jasmine Kemp-Fields, and Jason was my twin brother.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry for your loss.” I honestly didn’t know what else to say. Remembering the picture of that young man, I could see the resemblance as plain as day.

“I’d been looking for Jason for over two years. My mother was powerless to stop our former stepfather from violating him and then beating him before he tossed him out of the house. Perry and I had just gotten married and had no knowledge that this was happening. Our mother now sits in jail for finally taking action and killing the bastard, but everyday from then until the announcement of Jason’s death, she asked if we’d found him or heard from him.” I couldn’t stop the tears pouring out of my eyes, thinking that it could have been my own son who ended up like that young man. “So, although we are saddened by his death, we actually came here to thank you, Brian, and Justin, for stopping another monster who was prepared to abuse him. Only this time, the monster in question hid behind the blue wall of silence and was in a position of power. You worked to give Jason back his name, and for that I will always be grateful. No monetary gift could ever repay you and your sons for giving me a chance to visit his final resting place.”

Harold comes over to the armchair, sitting on its edge and putting an arm around me. He clears his throat of the emotional moment before speaking. “Jennifer, although the community themselves don’t know of the sacrifice of Brian and Justin as of yet, which I will make sure they do, the Fly Free Committee would like you to present them with this token of our esteem in an effort to get them back on their feet. They risked everything, things that I’m not sure anyone else would even if they could, to right a terrible travesty of justice and prevent a new one.”

He handed me a check for three-hundred thousand dollars. Three-hundred thousand dollars?! It was taking everything within me not to pass out! I swallowed hard, fighting back the emotion and thinking of all that my sons- for that is truly how I view Brian, as my own- have gone through these past months. The constant worry that they both have tried to hide from the outside world; the sacrifices of the things they really needed, but were too proud to ask for; the selling of their creature comforts; the job loss and Justin working like a fiend to make ends meet so that they wouldn’t have to do without the basics, like water and electricity… ALL of those things! And I find myself thanking a God who I wasn’t sure I believed in anymore because He just showed me that there are still good people in this world who genuinely care. I bring myself out of my reverie, still in awe of this moment, but I have to know… “Why didn’t you give this to them yourselves? I’m sure they would have wanted to thank you personally.”

“Brian and Justin are experiencing some difficulties at the hands of a man who they once considered a friend. I can’t be seen in their company right now, because I signed the order for the records of the business the perpetrator owns to be confiscated. As for the rest, at this moment they choose to remain anonymous, although they will eventually have to come out of the proverbial closet themselves.” He chuckled at his own joke as many of them snickered. “We don’t do what we do for praise and fame, even if I perform on the public sector as a drag queen from time to time. We do what we do because we are passionate, and genuinely love people. We also do it because we each have suffered intolerance by proxy. Just like they have lost family members to people like Stockwell, so have I. My sister was killed some thirty years ago because she preferred the company of women to men. Some man took offense and thought to teach her the harshest lesson of all. I don’t ordinarily believe in the death penalty as my moral compass is violently opposed to it, but I was glad when he was finally given his lethal injection twelve years to the day after my sister’s murder. If I’m wrong, may God forgive me, but there was no redeemable behavior in that man!” He takes a shuddering breath, and grips my shoulder a little tighter before releasing me. “Now that we have finished what we came to do, Jennifer, we will take our leave of you. By the way, eighty thousand of that money was Jason’s inheritance. Jasmine and Perry felt strongly that Brian and Justin should have it.”

“Thank you. Thank you all! I know that they will honor you all by what they do with your gifts to them. It’s been really…” I sigh deeply. “It’s been a tough road, but Brian and Justin are resilient that way. Somehow instead of them weakening to the point of giving up, they just become stronger.”

“Tell them to expect more. They deserve it!” Harold tells me as he moves towards the door.

I hug each and every person as they leave, but Jasmine is the one I hold onto the longest. “Please, keep in touch. Let me know how you and Perry are doing? I know that I can never replace your mother and having her with you, but if you ever have need of me, please don’t hesitate. Okay?” She smiles at me and with one more hug, is gone behind the rest of the crowd.

As I close the door, I look at the check in my hand once more and think, Oh Michael, what the fuck have you done now to have Harold Stone confiscating your records? And now I know just why Justin said that I would need to handle Debbie. Can you say IM-FUCKING-POSSIBLE?!

DEBBIE:

I haven’t heard from Michael all evening, and it’s starting to worry and piss me off by turns. Since he’s been gone, there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where we haven’t stuck to the three-times-a-day phone call rule. I remember mentioning it once to Brian and Justin when I’d asked if Brian had heard from him. ‘It explains so much’ Brian said when Justin had questioned its validity. Part of me wanted to smack the smirk off his face; no one could possibly understand the relationship I have with my Michael! But then I thought about how things stood between him and Joan at the moment and just figured it was the jealousy talking. So I shrugged it off. But at that point, Michael hadn’t called Brian his normal fifteen times a day either, which makes me question: Where the fuck is Michael?

Oh, I know I should be more worried about Hunter and the situation with Rita, and I am to a degree. No child should be pimped for their mother’s habits. But I do fault him for escaping the foster homes that the state put him in order to return to hustling. It makes me think he likes it, or if not the act itself, then the money it gave him. I have to wonder about young men like that. I mean, from what I’ve heard, Jason Kemp was from a neighborhood much like Justin’s. Was he so hellbent on playing fast and loose that he’d brought his murder upon himself. I would hate to think so, but it still reminds me of Hunter in a way.

Granted, it was Hunter who got the DNA sample and name that we needed to bring Stockwell down, so that’s something I guess. But then there was the whole situation with Brian and Justin’s involvement. Why would they involve the kid?! Hunter denies that they did, but you know, I just don’t believe him. I’m reminded of how worldly Brian was at Hunter’s age and decide that if the shoe was reversed and Hunter had been the adult in the situation, Brian certainly would have played Hunter within the same scenario. So me thinking that Brian put the kid up to it isn’t as far-fetched as one might think.

Strangely, Brian and Hunter have this whole moral compass thing that doesn’t quite work the same way as everyone else’s. They live by this motto: if it feels right then do it ‘til you’re satisfied. Whoring is WRONG no matter what form it takes, or what reason it has for that matter. Perhaps, I’m being a bit judgemental considering their circumstances, but there it is. Even though I love them both as if they are my own, it doesn’t make them any less incorrect in my eyes. It’s why I have honored Brian and Justin’s wishes that what they have done remain a mystery. I don’t want to glorify what Hunter did, nor Brian and Justin. Yes, it yielded the desired results, but that the end of the day, Hunter still whored himself at Brian’s behest and with Justin’s blessing. It’s just wrong in so many ways! I’m just glad that my Michael never took that particular wrong turn while following behind Brian. Now Sunshine… well he’s a different story altogether.

I can’t understand how someone who grew up within the upper echelons of society can allow himself to be lured back into Brian’s web so easily. Sure they have been through a lot together, but what is it going to take for Justin to understand that Brian was just a stop-gap on the superhighway of growing up. Just because he fucked him, didn’t mean that Brian was going to be with Justin for all eternity! If that was the case, I would have never let go of Danny and we’d both have been miserable for the rest of our lives. I don’t want to see that happen to Justin, but hey, what can I do? I really thought that he and that Ethan kid were well-suited. I mean their both artistic and young. They have their whole lives ahead of them and endless talent. They should be together! Maybe, I can figure out a way to make that happen, or even help him find someone new. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll get a list of eligible boys together for Justin to have his pick, but first I have to get him away from Brian fucking Kinney.

Now that’s not to say that Brian is not a good man. He is, but he gets Justin embroiled in circumstances that are way too far over his head. If Brian had taken on Stockwell by himself, that would be one thing. But no! He had to go and drag Justin down with his schemes and now Sunshine is in the same boat as he is. It breaks my heart watching Justin work all the hours that God sends trying to support himself and Brian, while Mr. High-and-Mighty refuses to work a job that’s beneath him to help out. I’ll never understand what makes Brian Kinney think he’s any better than Michael who worked at the Big Q for YEARS before he was able to open up his store. Okay, so Brian worked hard at school, but so did Justin, and we see where that has gotten them. Michael is now successful, and Brian is unemployed. Justin is just…

Well as soon as I have some time alone with him to pull his head out of his ass, I’ll set Sunshine straight! He needs to return to school; beg them to take him back if he has to, and not be a Mr. Goody-two-shoes about it. He needs to apologize and then move on with his life. But most of all, he needs to forget about Brian once and for all. Now that Michael is making enough money not to have me working double shifts and borrowing from my mortgage to cover his expenses now, Brian should see him as an equal. It’s what he’s been working towards all the years. I may not think that Brian is right for Michael, but my baby wants him. We have invested a lot of years into Brian and he owes it to me- to us- to make Michael happy at long last. So I’m determined to see that he has what he wants and that’s that! But first, I need Michael to check in with me. I wonder if everything is finally ready for Michael to take the next step and if he needs my help again for him to do so.

As for Ben… well Michael said that he was just something to pass the time until Brian was ready for him, which he apparently is now since he tried a relationship with Justin. It’s no secret that I didn’t want Michael involved with Ben in the first place, so it seems a perfect time for Michael to ditch him and make his move on Brian at long last. I mean, why tempt fate? Ben fucking Michael- after all, I KNOW my son is not a top- has been like watching Michael play Russian Roulette with his health. It’s time for them to stop! No more of this practice and placeholding nonsense. It’s time to turn Ben loose to fuck up his own life or find someone else to fuck… I really don’t care as long as it’s not with my son any longer! And it’s time I see to it!

The knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. It’s quite late and I’m not expecting anyone. So when I get there, and see who it is, the first words out of my mouth are, “What do you want?”

CHAPTER TEN: JUST THE TWO OF US

BRIAN:

As I said goodnight to our guests, I thought about all of what was revealed tonight about Mikey and his machinations. The funny thing is that as much as I blame him, I hold myself equally responsible, if not even more so, for the breakdown in communication with Justin last year. Yes, it didn’t help that things were bad and whereas we had never bowed under pressure before the bashing, we certainly succumbed to it afterwards. It wasn’t just outside forces, but the insecurity we both felt at the time that caused our implosion. The secrets that rocked our stability both from the outside, and within our relationship. It has me thinking…

“I want a do over,” I whispered.

“What?”

I cleared my throat, gathering the courage I wasn’t really feeling before I speak again. “I want a do over.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The floor picnic. It was the manifestation of things that had started to go wrong. So I want a do over.” I sigh deeply and huff but power through what it is I need to say anyway. “Look, Justin. There are some things that we need to talk about. And we need to do it in such a way that is us. We’re not like other people, and yet, we acted like them in not facing our demons head-on, and no-holds-barred. Now with the perceived threat looming, I… I just don’t want us to implode again because of what others can use against us.”

“You think that’s what happened the first time?”

“Yes, and I think deep down, you do too. So I want another floor picnic to tell you the things that I’ve never told anyone, to correct some stinking thinking between us, and to finally move forward by not pretending to do so. That’s what really shattered us, Justin. We went through the motions of living, but were really only breathing because it’s what our bodies demanded. We simply existed hoping to make it to the next moment, but dreading it all the same.”

“No holds barred? Does that mean I can ask you anything and expect a straight answer?”

“That’s what it means, and it goes both ways.” I swallow hard. I know this is the right thing for us to do, but fucking hell it’s going to be excruciating.

He thinks about it for a moment before he nods. “Okay. I’m all in, but let’s do this right.”

I raise my eyebrow at him, wondering what he has in mind. It’s not everyday that I ask for a do over, or willingly agree to sit on the floor and… talk. Fucking on the floor is an entirely different activity, which leave us both breathless and completely satisfied, but with all this new plush furniture… hmm not too keen on the floor idea. However, I should have known that my resident twat would be, but apparently, he’s also learned the art of compromise. I chuckle a little as he struggles to drag one of the only things we’d kept after Stockwell. The plush feather mattress topper was just a must have to Justin, and somehow it became a must keep for me. We were on that very surface when Gardner and Jim walked, uninvited, into my- no, our- loft to find us on the floor fucking hard. I can still feel how tightly his limbs were wrapped around me as I pounded into him; can still feel the slight stings on my back from where his sharp fingernails clawed me. Ah… Good memories! What's the matter, Jim? You never see two guys fucking before? It still cracks me up that I said that. I never seen two homophobes look shocked and semi-intrigued at the same time. Talk about eye-opening experiences. Or how about the fact that I seemed blithely closed the door as they were leaving while asking Justin if he wanted to finish. I bet they will learn to knock next time, although I doubt Jim will have a reason to where he's going. He'll probably be somebody's bitch within a week of incarceration.

Apparently, Justin was having the same sort of thoughts, since once in position, he stripped down to nothing but his black underwear. But then he grabbed one of the plush hotel robes he’d brought back from Vermont and donned it. The midnight blue of the fabric sets off his eye color like I have never seen, and I am momentarily transfixed. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I go to the kitchen and pull out the drawer nearest the refrigerator. I’m momentarily saddened that my once full kitchen of stuff I rarely ever used has been reduced to nothing. Since, with the exception of the everyday dishes, all of my expensive china and silverware was also sold during the first month to pay down some of the debt.

Isn’t it strange how you never really know how much you miss things until they are no longer there? You tend to take their presence for granted, sure in the knowledge that they will remain where you put them. I can honestly I no longer take things, and most especially NOT Justin, for granted. And I have faith that just like he’s back, and we’re better, those seemingly inconsequential tangibles will be back within our grasp soon. But first, we have to get through this question and answer period, which I requested although it seems a little out of character for me… except that it isn’t. I really do want to know, since I’m determined not to repeat the same mistakes with him again.

As he lights the candles, I change in to my robe of emerald green. Amazingly enough, whereas I’m used to wearing silk robes, this one feels absolutely fucking amazing against my skin. It’s then I realize just how well Justin knows me. Not many people realize my aversion to certain materials has nothing to do with how vain I am. It’s just in a lot of instances I grew up wearing threadbare secondhand clothes because buying new would take away from the Kinney Drunk and Delusional fund. Of course, Claire didn’t have such an issue, being Jack’s favorite and wanted child, but I was a different matter. So as I grew up and began making my own money, clothes became a symbol of status to me. Justin understands that in ways no other can understand, and yet, I never even had to explain it to him. In a lot of ways, he just gets me. Would that he and I would have remembered and celebrated that fact before everything went to shit.

By the time I sit down, Justin has gathered little nibbles and the last unopened bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label from cabinet along with two tumblers. He smiles and says, “I figured that since this is going to be the second part of a seemingly heavy conversation, we would need fortification past what Em brought over tonight. You’re sure you want to do this now?”

I look into the clear blue eyes and see that it’s not trepidation that’s causing him to ask me this, but genuine concern. It’s been a hard day for both of us already, and having this conversation has the potential to make it harder. But instead of taking the out he’s trying to give me, I just nod my head and say, “Yeah. It needs to be done now, since we never know when the wrong shit might fly out of other people’s mouths. I don’t want either of us caught off guard. It will give them power over us in those moments, and I’m not trying to see us that way ever again if either of us can help it. I thought about what you said regarding the fiddler…”

“There’s more that I want to say about that situation…”

“Fair enough, but how about we do this in the order in which stuff happened? It might make it easier to paint a full picture of exactly where we went wrong.”

“I already told you from my end why I ended up with Ethan.”

“I know, but you didn’t hear it from me. I know what Michael said,” I tell him quietly.

He looks at me, but I can’t pinpoint just one emotion that’s on his face. There’s a whole wealth of them, and I suppose there would be. Michael has said a lot of shit, both before and after the bashing. It’s up to me to untangle the lies and expose the truths for Justin in a way I never have before. I owe this man that much.

“Okay, so let’s start with three days before you turned eighteen…” once again I raise my eyebrow at Justin to indicate that I know exactly what that was about. “Why did you do it?”

Justin takes a swig of his drink and then a deep breath, sighing. “Kip Thomas was a low-rent trick who was going to cost you your job. I couldn’t let that happen. Brian you are many things; but number one, you aren’t a liar, and number two, you aren’t a proverbial rapist. That’s what people in powerful positions who sexually take advantage of their underlings are. You did nothing of the sort; you would never have to. You forget that I was here the night he came here. I had just left when you kicked me out- playfully I might add- but I doubled back because I just had to know what he looked like. I’m glad I did because it helped me to pick out the crater face in the bar. I would ask you how could you have done him when I was around, and I was wearing your favorite pair of red cargo pants. But in retrospect, I figured it out with you.”

“Oh? And what did you figure out just then?”

“That it was basically a pity fuck both times. Granted, I found that out as he was attempting to blow me and I blackmailed him, but more than that, I heard him proposition you in Babylon the night I asked you to my prom. I didn’t realize who he was at the time, but when Michael said his name, I figured it out. So I picked him up in Woody’s and the rest you know.”

“Do you realize what could have happened to you?!”

“Sure… nothing. Kip was on his knees and if he had tried anything, there was a lamp to the left of me. I don’t think anyone realized it, but the whole bat to the head thing from Hobbs, was because I gave as good as I got in that locker room the day I was suspended. Just because I would rather not fight doesn’t mean that I can’t defend myself if I have to. Bottom line is I may get my ass kicked or even killed, but I’m not going down without them having a few scars of their own, or leaving evidence to point directly to my killer. In Kip’s case there was nothing to worry about.”

Listening to him talk about it so matter of factly almost pisses me off until I realize that Justin is right. We all tend to underestimate him because of his age and looks, but Justin is one of the toughest people I know, even if he tends to forget that he is sometimes.

“Soooo, speaking of prom. Brian, why did you come?”

It is both a question I long to answer as much as I dread to see or hear his reaction. “I did something that one might view as stupid, but at the same time it’s classic me, I guess.”

“You are not stupid.”

“No I’m not, but sometimes even I have my dumbass moments. So anyway, to make this rather long story short, Lindsay was thrilled that you’d asked me to the prom and as you know it was three days after I turned thirty. We were walking through a boutique looking for something for her, and she was prattling on about grandchildren, gray hair, and Gus. Not exactly the reminder I wanted when I thought I had one foot already in the fucking grave, especially after their Happy Death Day stunt, you know. So anyway, I saw this pristine white scarf. It was simply luminescent and seemed like it glowed just for me. So I told Lindsay that I thought I should give myself something special for my birthday and bought the scarf.

"Well it was the night of Michael and Dr. Dave’s bon voyage party and I decided to try something that I had only heard about. It seemed like the perfect time to try it since I knew everyone would be wearing flannel at the Lumberjack-off party. It took a couple of tries, but I finally managed to get the scarf to hook over the beam above us. I tied the scarf around my neck, stood on the chair and began jacking my own lumber. I was just about there when the loft door opened. I heard it but I’d be damned if I was going to stop. Honestly, I would have thought it would have been you… instead, it was Michael. Long story short he got me down, gave me the ‘you’re Brian Kinney for fuck’s sake speech and so went my attempts of having the best orgasm of my life….”

“You… yeah, you were a STUPID fuck right then, Brian! Scarfing should NEVER EVER be tried without another person present. What if you had accidently hung yourself while your fucking dick was hanging out?!”

Okay, I get why he’s angry. It was a dumb risk to take. Anything really could have happened and no one would have been any the wiser except when the cleaning lady came in the next morning bright and early to see me dead and my dead dick. “Not my finest moment, Sunshine, but it did lead me to the decision to make you happy and in the process drink a little from the fountain of your youth. I thought well I can’t be all that bad if I have an eighteen year lover willing to be with me in any way he can get me. In fact while I was up there, my favorite fantasies involved sex with you.

“But the day after my stupidity leak, I got to thinking about you and Gus and how you both found me on the same night. I thought that maybe turning thirty wouldn’t so bad if I could just find a way to keep you. I thought back to all of the things other people asked of me: Mel and Lindz regarding my parental rights, the untold amounts of money I’d lent to Michael and gave to Deb, but I was still an asshole whenever it suited them for me to be one, the ridicule Em and Ted would utter that sometimes cut deep, even if they didn’t really mean it… all of it! And then I thought about you and the fact that you rarely asked anything of me at all. It’s why I wanted to give you that night. You only wanted one real thing from me, and that was to let you love me. You had come to… mean so much to me, and I wanted you to see that. But...” I left the rest unsaid because really, what more was there to say after that.

“Do you regret it?” he whispered.

I stop myself from shedding the tears I can feel welling up behind my eyes, and speak equally softly. “Sometimes I do, but only because you got hurt and can’t remember the good bit, just the crack of a bat.”

“You came to see me, didn’t you?” At my surprised look, he continues. “I overheard you and Mom talking about it the day she sent you away. I thought that maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, and I was only hearing what I desperately wanted to hear. I never found the courage until now to confirm it.”

I swallow hard, because I know that we are getting to the meat of our story thus far. “Yeah, I was there every night. I would go to Babylon because I couldn’t stand to be in the loft more than a few hours at a time. It was just so fucking quiet here, and everywhere I turned I would see you, or smell you, or hear your laugh. So I had to get out, but I couldn’t not see you. So I would drive to the hospital to watch over you. But the deal I’d made with myself is that I wouldn’t go into the room, just watch you through the window.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t feel I had the right to be there, or to touch you again. Because of me, you got hurt.”

“How do you figure that? I hate that you blame yourself for something that couldn’t have possibly been your fault. Hobbs had a bat. What was it doing there and why will forever remain a mystery since the judge and defense played a game of blame the victim. There was nothing outside of what you did that you could’ve done, Brian. He was intent to destroy me for whatever reason, be that he was jealous because I had the courage to live my life in the open, or he genuinely is homophobic. I tend to lean more towards the former than the latter, but that’s neither here nor there. The important thing is that you have to stop blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control. Chris would have done what he did whether you were there or not!”

What he says makes sense and yet everyone blamed me. Debbie even went so far as to tell me not to come to the hospital, but in the same breath berated me for not doing so where Jennifer and the rest of them could see me. It’s funny how now I can see the double standards she places on everyone, and yet she never lives up to a standard herself unless it suits her. Talking with Justin these last couple of days has really been putting some things into perspective for me and I don’t know whether to be happy or pissed about that. I have to change the subject about this for now. I think we cleared up all we could about it for the moment, and the two major secrets surrounding it are finally out in the open.

“So… Vermont. Why did you go without me?” I ask.

“There were a couple of reasons, not to mention that I was still a little pissed about Zucchini man. It was like the start of where it felt like you were disregarding my feelings again. Now that’s not to say that it was what that whole episode was about, but out of curiosity, how did he happen up here with you fucking him on the sofa?” I think back to that time and close my eyes. I don’t have to say anything because the answer suddenly dawns on Justin. “Ahhh… the little Troll of Trouble strikes again, eh?”

“He couldn’t wait to tell me that the word on the street was that I had settled into a relationship with you.”

“And there you have your reason for me going to Vermont solo.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had dropped the panels over at Michael’s house the morning following your departure to Chicago. At the time, I didn’t know that Vance had threatened your job, and you sure as hell didn’t tell me. But Michael knew, and he took great pleasure in letting me know that he knew, but wouldn’t tell me the reason. It was like he was privy to all aspects of your life while I only received bits, pieces and crumbs of affection here and there. It didn’t leave me feeling very assured of my place in your life. Michael laughed and basically told me I was wasting my time if I thought you would change for me. But here’s the funny thing, I didn’t want you to change per se, only to show me a little consideration. I was living with you, whether because of guilt…”

“Let me stop you for a moment right there, Sunshine. Yes, I felt responsible for what happened, but once again, I will remind you that it wasn’t the reason I wanted you to stay. When were you ever going to learn to listen to me?”

“When were you ever going to learn to actually say what the hell you wanted?" he retorted, then sighed. "Brian, it was easier to listen to other people because they were at least saying something. Unfortunately, I listened to the wrong person, mistakenly thinking that he had your best interests at heart or mine. It’s a mistake I can guarantee you will never happen again regardless of who it is. My drunk grandmother always says a dog who will carry a bone will bring one too, so be careful where you bury yours. I put my faith and conveyed my inner thoughts and worries in Michael, but now in retrospect I also told him where to look for my bones.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It was something Ethan said during the floor picnic when he was talking about his ex-boyfriend. Although, I now believe that was a bit of fiction, too. I remember telling Michael that I wanted to be involved with someone who wanted to stay home once in awhile, or would at least get a little jealous when they see someone else was sucking my dick. It didn’t register at the time, but Ethan said that it’s why he left his lover. And you know what? It was verbatim that conversation with Michael. Ethan couldn’t have known the exact words to say to make me start really questioning my belief in us unless he had a coach.”

Sadly, I believe he did. While Michael was dripping venom in my ears, he was pouring salt in Justin’s open wounds. And if I’m correct, he wasn’t the only one. I sigh deeply again. I seem to be doing that more and more lately, but it also seems the only way to convey the exasperation I feel with the people in my life, with the exception of a very few. “Do you know Debbie cornered me in Woody’s telling me to tell you what I couldn’t say to Michael?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? In my world pre-Stockwell, you told Michael everything.“

“She told me to tell you that I loved you.”

“But you do tell Michael that, whereas you’ve never told me.”

“Do you ever wonder why that is?”

“All the damn time, but I figured that when and if you ever got ready you would, or find some other way to say it. And for the record, let me clear up one more misconception for you. Yes, I was pissed about the birthday hustler, but only because it felt like I was being punished for something that was not my fault. I heard Lindsay getting on your case about not celebrating my birthday, and whereas I agreed with her to an extent, I would have just been happy to stay home and watch a movie with you while the phones were turned off, and none of the revolving door syndrome that happens as an everyday occurence around here. I didn’t need nor want hearts and flowers. Hell, I’m allergic to just about every damn flower there is. Getting me that hustler instead of, let’s say a new sketch pad, made me feel as if you didn’t know me at all anymore. I just wanted to be with you; that would have been gift enough for me.”

“Justin, I love you,” I say and it catches both of us off guard for a moment, before I continue. “But in all honesty, what I’ve felt for you… what I feel for you now, the word love seems quite inadequate to describe most days. It’s easy to tell Michael and Deb, hell even Lindsay that I love them because it’s still nowhere near what I feel for you. So that’s why I never say it…”

“Thank you for saying it now, and yes, I love you, too. I agree that what I feel for you is as all-consuming and the word love most of the time seems too tame. So let’s just agree to say it when the mood strikes, but not to overuse it where it loses its strength and validity for us.”

“Agreed.” I smile at him. “But back up for a moment… why did you really stop dancing at Babylon? And I want the full truth this time, Justin. I’m a big boy and I can take it.”

Blowing out a harsh breath, I can tell he doesn’t want to answer. But he will because it’s something that can ultimately hurt us if the wrong people get ahold of the knowledge. Besides, I’ve always wondered. “I- I don’t want to talk about this too much, okay?”

“What happened?”

“You were right. I was under the misconception that Sap would keep his word and I would only be an ornament to enhance the party for the evening. I did a line of premium coke, took a hit of some primo weed and was feeling no pain. It was when I was offered a drink that things got a little hazy. I later found out that the water was laced with GHB, but I had only had a sip so I was still functional for the moment. Anyway, Sap decided to give me a tour of his place, and I figured it was a good idea. Anything to keep me moving, you know. So when we arrived at the closed door to this room which reminded me of a luxury master bedroom, I wasn’t too surprised. Or at least I wasn’t until he opened the door. There must have been about fifteen men in that room, two of whom I knew, and both in sex swings. Long story short, they tried to get me in the third one. Sap was down on his knees, trying to pull off my pants while I heard one of them whisper that I was Kinney’s boy toy. I suppose it was the mention of you that really spurred me into action instead of the shock I was originally feeling despite my protests. I know one thing, I was no longer comfortably high; I had sobered up almost instantly when their intentions became more than clear. So I kicked Sap’s two front teeth out, broke free of the other men holding me, and ran out of there. I didn’t stop running until I got to Daphne’s apartment, and she brought me home after I had a shower there and cried my fucking anxiety out over what could have happened.”

“So that’s the reason you wanted to avoid Babylon for awhile?”

“That and one of the guys I knew was at the party had passed. From what I’ve heard from the others he was basically fucked to death, but according to the coroner it was an overdose of heroin, instead of an overdose of GHB. There was no heroin in evidence anywhere at that party, not even on the lower levels. I just couldn’t handle the fact that it could’ve been me instead. Can we move on from this now? Please?” I nodded, having gotten the answer I was looking for.

I could tell he was more than a little uncomfortable rehashing that nightmare. In fact, now that I think about it, Justin shied away from sex with me unless he was topping for two weeks after that. He wasn’t sleeping well either. “So moving on to the computer geek and Mr. Taylor… that was the first time you broke the rules.”

‘Yes, it was, but it was for good reason. Eric was a virgin, and although I should have run screaming for the hills, I didn’t. He was the only doable guy for me in a house party full of breeders. Anyway, I was shitty to him at first, adhering to our pact. But then he wanted to do it again, and I complied, thinking what would have happened to me if you had treated me so callously that first night. So I kissed him and handled him with care. The problem is that he pulled a me the next day which forced me to pull a you. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I didn’t want to lead him on either. He really was a sweet kid, but I was involved with a man who was my addiction. I had no intention of fucking that up. Which brings me to what I want to ask you. Why did you hit Michael?”

I scrubbed a hand over my face, hoping that I’d misheard. But the implacable look in his eyes and determined set of his jaw confirmed that I hadn’t. Shit! This is what I get for wanting a damn do over! “Michael was badgering me about you being at the munchers’ party with the fiddler. Can we leave it at that please?”

“I didn’t deflect your question about Sap’s party and my aversion to Babylon for a time, so nope. You might as well tell me. We both know that it will come out sooner or later. I would rather hear it from you.”

I poured myself a full tumbler of the amber liquid and sucked it down like it held the secrets of life. I poured myself another to increase my courage. When I began to pour myself a third, Justin stopped me with a gentle hand on my wrist. I looked into his eyes, seeing the entreaty there, and knew that I had to tell him the truth. “After denigrating you as loud as he dared, he said that me saving your life wasn’t worth it and that I should have left you there,” I say quietly.

I notice the myriad of emotions on his face, and all I want to do is hold him. But I know from experience that would be a mistake right now. He needs time to process the fact that Michael could say something like that. I have no doubt that if Justin had heard it the rage within him would have gone way past ten on his emotional scale. It’s how we always judge how to handle his panic and rage attacks; one always triggers the other. I press a glass full of JW Black into his hand, even as he’s staring off into space. I don’t know how to help him except be there for him when he finally comes out of the shelter of his mind. In the beginning he used to retreat in there a lot. It’s the one place within himself that I can’t follow him. His heart as always been like an open book, but his mind is a locked vault until he chooses to share his thoughts. So all I can do is sit here and wait him out like I’ve always done in the past.

Finally when he speaks, he says, “Well I always knew he hated me, but never enough to wish me dead. I think it’s safe to say that it’s a good thing I will be severing all ties with him after this whole Rage business is finished. I can’t tell you who to be friends with Brian, and I know you said you are done, but I can’t be around Michael beyond thirty seconds ever again. After the confrontation, I just can’t be. Does anyone else know?”

“Your mom and Daphne know, but as for the family, I don’t know.”

“Mom and Daph knew and they said nothing?”

“They were in the same boat I was in, Sunshine.”

“Then why insist that I keep working with him?”

“You needed any income you could get since you were living with Ethan. I knew you wouldn’t accept anything extra from me, especially because of your tuition. Rage was bringing more money in than your tips at the Diner, even with Michael cheating you in the beginning. Up until last night, and today, none of us knew you weren’t receiving your share of the profits. I just wanted you to have what you needed; Michael wasn’t even really a second or third thought. In fact, he wasn’t really a thought at all except that he was connected to you through the comic.”

He nods and I think he understands our reasons for not telling him. One thing about Justin is that he can’t be in business with people he doesn’t have a degree of feeling for. The situation with Michael was different. It was mostly a favor to Deb and me that Justin worked for any real length of time with his nemesis. I feel a little guilty for asking him to do that, but I’m not regretful, because of the results it yielded. Even though at the time, Justin didn’t get his monetary benefits, his work on Rage allowed him to be hired by me for the GLC Carnivale. So paying him the money was certainly justified within the fee I offered, and they ultimately paid him for the work he did. And now that Justin will metaphorically be out for Michael’s blood, he’s going to benefit even more. So I’m not sorry about that.

Just as we are about to continue, the buzzer sounds. We both freeze wondering what the fuck has happened now, but we know we can’t ignore it. I walk over to the offensive device and and am tempted to snatch it out of the wall, but instead press the intercom.

“Yeah.”

“Brian, it’s me. Let me up please.” I press the entry button, and turn to Justin. “I think your mom may have gotten your message, Sunshine.”

CHAPTER 11: $300,000 DOLLARS AND THE MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION

JUSTIN:

As Brian opens the door, Mom steps through.  

“Hi, honey,” she says, giving him a gentle kiss and pat on the cheek. I have to stand and marvel for a moment over how their relationship has grown over the past two years. Not so long ago, my mother couldn’t stand Brian. Even after she’d asked him to take me in after the bashing, their interactions were a bit stilted, until one day they just weren’t anymore. One day, I’ll have to ask her what really changed her opinion of him. She crosses over to me and gives me a similar greeting, including the word ‘sweetheart’ and an accompanying hug.

“Hi, Mom. Would you like some tea or something?” I accompany her to the sofa now facing the bayview windows.

“I wouldn’t mind some and then we can talk about your phone call. I also have some news to share with the both of you that couldn’t wait. This place looks great.”

“Thanks. Emmett set us up with a guy he knows,” Brian answers.

“From the looks and quality of the furniture, I would say the gentleman’s name is Horatio.”

“You know him? But then you must have become a regular down on Liberty Avenue, Mother Taylor.”

“Very funny, Brian. And yes, I just happen to know Horatio and use him quite frequently to stage houses. He and his partner, Marvin, although you know him best as Mysterious Marilyn, do fabulous work. They’ve both been traveling abroad until a week ago. I’m thinking these are the pieces they must have picked up from Florence or Valencia, Italy.”

“Definitely high-quality stuff, but I thought that they outsource from a warehouse or something?”

“No, Brian. They don’t, which is why their fees are so expensive. They would rather go and look and pick out the furniture themselves rather than rely on the internet, or the opinions of others. It’s why they are considered one of the best in the business and have the implicit trust of their clientele.”

“Well if all goes according to plan, hopefully they will consider using Kinnetik as their advertising firm.”

“Kinnetik?”

“Yes, Mom,” I interject, having brought over her cup of tea, and cups of coffee for Brian and me. “Brian and I have decided to open an ad agency once Gardner agrees to pay Brian what’s owed to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that when Gardner ousted Brian out of the company, he should have returned all of the funds Brian used to buy into the partnership.”

She turns to Brian and asks, “I thought the partnership was a stipulation in your contract. Am I mistaken?”

He smiles at her. “No, Jen, you’re not. What I did to cement the partnership was forego my commission when Brown Athletics signed with Vanguard. For that fifteen million dollar contract, my commission would have been $150K, alone. Considering that I poured my bonuses for that and another six contracts I acquired at the time, roughly Gardner owes me about $650,000 plus interest.”

“Oh my God, I had no idea you were making that much!”

“Indeed. Which is why he’s counting on not paying me. But Mel said that he would be a fool to want to take this all to court. In Gardner’s case, any publicity regarding my termination would bring bad press, and he really can’t afford a scandal. He already has his hands full trying to placate the accounts I was forced to leave behind because Stockwell threw a temper tantrum.”

“So, three-hundred thousand dollars would go a long way to help in recouping that money?”

“It would go a long way to helping us start building the company sooner, Mom. But what are you talking about?” I picked up on that sly inflection in her voice, although I’m not sure Brian noticed.

She places her teacup down in the coffee table and reaches into her purse. Fumbling around a little, she withdraws an envelope and hands it to Brian before turning to me. “I had a very interesting visit tonight when I got home from another boring Realtors Association meeting. They were the committee members of a group called Fly Free…”

“I’ve heard of them. They do a lot of charity work for runaways and disadvantaged people.”

“Yes, Honey, they do. But tonight was a bit different. You see, I learned that many of them were in situations like Jason Kemp’s family. In fact, his twin sister was there as well. Jason’s story was so much more than what we were able to dig up, but she came to thank me- to thank all of us- for allowing her and her husband to have closure. Her mom is in jail for killing her stepfather who was the cause of Jason leaving home. But anyway, they wanted to help out the heroes who prevented James Stockwell from being elected. So Judge Stone and the committee presented me with this check and asked me to give it to the two of you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Brian exclaims, getting up from the chair and pacing around.

“What? What’s wrong, Brian?” I ask, startled and worried about his outburst. Yes, Brian has an explosive temper, but even that is coldly silent and menacing most of the time.

“Oh, Honey. Nothing is wrong with Brian. If he was anything like me when they handed me that check, he’s in shock.”

“Why?”

“Brian, give me the envelope.” He begins to hand it to her but seems to have trouble letting it go completely. “I’ll give it back, I promise. But Justin will go into a panic if he doesn’t see it for himself. You know how he is.” I see her roll her eyes and am hard pressed not to retort as Brian literally has to pry the fingers of his left hand off of the envelope.

Wordlessly she hands it to me, and honestly I can’t see for the blurriness of tears leaking from my eyes. “I’m not dreaming or seeing things am I? It really is a check for $300,000 dollars.”

“Yes, Sweetheart, it is. Eighty grand of it is what was donated from his sister, Jasmine. It’s from his estate. You see, Jason was born into a well-to-do family much like you were. Honestly, the similarities between your stories are uncanny.”

“I would like to meet her sometime, if possible, and thank her personally. I think I can safely speak for Brian when I say that we will open up an account in the name of the Concerned Citizens for Truth so that his life will never have been in vain. The eighty grand will go a long way in ensuring that men like Stockwell and Reichert, or organizations with hate in their hearts aimed at our community won’t have an easy time of overtaking us.”

“Sunshine’s right, Jen. That portion of the money will certainly go back into the community, but we would like to keep it under wraps. We don’t want every charity and do gooder knocking at our door until that money literally gets wasted and is nowhere to be found when we have to assert ourselves again. There is always going to be some bully coming after us because we’re different. Better to have the cash on hand to fight back, than to have this happen to us again. In the meantime, with the other portion of the money, we’ll start Kinnetik and every year donate a portion of the profits to CCFT and the Fly Free Initiative. We’re not activists by any means; just sick of being sitting ducks for bigots.”

“I think that’s a great idea, darlings. And when you’re ready to find office space for Kinnetik, let me know. I think I may have a few properties that would work well with both of your styles. Now, about the reason for your call… Justin, your message was a bit vague. What’s going on?”

I sigh. “First Mom, let me ask a hypothetical question before I explain everything we think so far. If you had an influx of cash technically gained through illegal means, what would you do with the money?”

“Well that depends…”

“On?” Brian asks, sitting next to me. Based on our conversation with the others earlier, I know he wants to know if my thought-process isn’t as far-fetched as it may seem where Michael is concerned. On the surface, Michael just doesn’t seem that fucking smart, but then we all thought that he wouldn’t be a thief either, and look where underestimating him has gotten us. To put it plainly, Michael is a master manipulator and we’re all just catching on.

“Well if it were me, depending on how much of an influx I’ve gained either over time, or immediately, I would probably invest it to increase the initial profit, since there’s no telling the next time would be that I would receive another lump sum. But...”

“But?” I ask, and I think I know where she’s going with this.

“Considering any deposits over ten thousand dollars would have to be reported to the IRS, I would hold onto it and deposit in increments, unless I earmark that money for specific purpose.”

“Oh, like let’s say, a down payment on property?”

“Exactly. Now, mind telling me what that hypothetical question was really about?”

I sigh. “Michael has been embezzling the profits from Rage from the very beginning… actually, since we formed the partnership to work on the comic. But even more than that, we think he was responsible for the break-in that happened back when Brian and I first got together.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I wish I was. A number of things that were listed in Brian’s original police report were on an itemized bill of sale within a hidden set of accounting ledgers, titled The Real Rage. The problem is…”

“Ah, and now I understand the Debbie reference in your message. You’re planning to take action.”

“Yes, both of us are,” Brian answered. I look at him in shock, but he just waves it away. “I told you I was done, Sunshine. The fact that Michael had me blaming you, and had you paying me back for a credit card bill that never should have been incurred in the first place… Well that’s just bullshit. And I’m tired of putting up with it and being expected to let the shit he does go. And yes, it included the last time when I punched him too. I’ve never forgiven him, and he never even fucking apologized, but I just let it go! I mean, who would’ve believed that he was such a callous bastard. It would have been a case of ‘Oh that’s just Michael. You know he didn’t mean it like that’. But the thing is he did mean it! And he still means it, Justin. Which is evident by the shit he’s pulled. He’s going to pay this time, but how he does is entirely up to him.”

I’m simply blown away by Brian’s impassioned speech, and I think Mom is too, based on the stunned look upon her face. I turn to her, and say, “The thing is, we know this is going to split the family up unless we can stop Deb from doing what she always does. I don’t know why she expects everyone to let Michael’s fuck ups go, but I’m sure that she will expect no less of me this time. Only, I’m not backing off of him no matter what or who I lose because of this. I would hate to lose her as my surrogate mom. After all, she was there when you didn’t know how to be. But Michael knew I needed that money to live on and deliberately withheld it from me for whatever warped reason he has in his mind. It was owed to me and I earned it, especially considering what it actually took for me to be able to draw the comic in the first place. Michael has cheated me out of so much more than money, and I think he knows that.”

I drop my eyes in remembrance of the days and nights of chronic pain I was constantly pushing through to meet deadlines both for class and the comic. And let’s not even talk about the times working on the comic took away from Brian and I, which I suspect made the little bastard gleeful. Sometimes I think the nights of exhaustion only served to ensure that Brian would be able to go out without me and allow Michael to engage in tricking by proxy. Emmett told me about Michael’s hobby of watching Brian in action. But I wonder if it was just a hobby?

Mom interrupts my reverie, and says, “What is it you really think he invested in, Justin?”

Brian answers her. “Sunshine seems to think Michael would have invested in real estate somewhere.”

“Well that’s an interesting theory. Any particular place in mind.”

I snicker. “Where else but Palm Springs?” At Brian’s look of disbelief, I laugh harder. “It would be the place all his dreams would come true.”

“But he would never leave Debbie again. Remember Portland?”

“Please! It wasn’t his Maw he was despondent of ditching. It was YOU,” I point out. “If he could have you, he would say fuck Debbie in a heartbeat without even saying goodbye.”

“Justin, watch your mouth,” Mom scolds, even though there’s a twinkle in her eye. It’s then that I know I have a true ally in my theory. “Well there is one simple way to dispel the myths and expose a little fact, but I need your computer. Do you mind, Brian?”

“Not at all. Just boot it up. I haven’t put a password on it since it’s just Justin and I here, and I trust him implicitly.” I feel the tears welling up at his admission. He sticks his tongue in his cheek, and tells me, “Don’t get moist.” I just snicker at his automatic snarky remark when he does something incredibly sweet.

Brian and I sit on the sofa talking quietly, making plans for all the things we need to do for the company we’re starting. The first thing we agree on is that we need to contact Cynthia in the morning and find out if she’s willing to leave Vanguard. Brian is pretty certain that she will, and may even have an idea about future staffing should we have the need to expand quickly. We discuss the possibilities of having Ted come and work for us. Surprisingly, Brian is all for that idea, providing he is ready. Both of us want to help him get back on his feet as soon as possible, but it has to be in Ted’s time, not ours. We also agreed to have Mel speed up the process of putting the screws to Vance. When the subject of returning to PIFA comes up, I tell Brian that I don’t think I want to. I can take the credits I obtained from there and go to Mellon instead. We were going to discuss the merits of that when Mom yells…

“Got you, you fucker!”

“Language!” I call back at her, and Brian bursts out laughing as we move closer to where she is at the computer. “What have you found and how did you find it? It’s not something that could cause you jail time, is it?”

“Don’t be silly, Darling. I’m a perfectly upstanding and respectable citizen, unlike that short shrimp, Michael Novotny. I found the property he bought on the MLS website that all of us Brokers use. Real estate agents only have a fraction of the resources listed on this particular site, so it helps that I’m now eligible to open my own business when I’m ready. Anyway, you were right about the location of the house. It is indeed in Palm Springs, California. It’s nestled within a very upscale neighborhood but close enough to downtown to be acceptable to Brian. The property was listed for $990K but was sold for $840K. But here’s the kicker… the name of the owner is not Michael Novotny. Look here...”

Brian and I stand on either side of her and peer at the screen. I gasp in shock as I look where her finger is pointing. Brian’s “You gotta be shitting me!” is the only sound in the loft as we all continue to see what we never thought we would.

“You boys see it, right? The house is not owned by Michael per se, although there is no doubt he paid for it. It’s owned by Debbie.”

Brian shakes his head. “And things just got a whole lot worse… FUCK!”

DEBBIE:

“Nice to see you too, Debbie.” He tells me as he steps into my house without waiting for a proper invitation. “As for what I want, a seat, since I’m waiting for my partner to pick me up from here,” Rodney tells me.

“Look, as far as I’m concerned, you can wait outside with that attitude.”

“Don’t give me attitude and I won’t dish it back to you. It’s quite simple really and a concept you have yet to learn when you aren’t dealing with one of your lost boys. You have to give respect to get it, and since I’m just a smidge younger than you, that goes double for me.”

I roll my eyes at my brother’s boy toy, although that probably wouldn’t be accurate in Rodney’s case. He’s only a year younger than Vic and three years younger than me. But this is still my house! “Regardless, you should have called to tell me you were coming. I mean, it’s not like you live here.”

“And neither will Vic in a week or so. Is that what’s really bothering you, Deb?” He taunts. “House starting to feel a little lonely without your brother and that grown infant you birthed?”

“You leave Michael out of this!”

“Why? What’s he done now? Or from the looks of you, you must be going through whining withdrawal, which means you have no business to interfere in right now and therefore no purpose in your own eyes. Take my advice, Deb. Cut the apron strings before he strangles you with them!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Of course, I do. After all, I’m a psychiatrist, but decided that I got more joy out of teaching than treating reality-deflecting, unreasonably-rationalizing patients such as you and your son.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that although there is nothing psychologically wrong with you or your spoiled offspring, you choose to keep him codependent on you and everyone else around you. My question is, what are you going to do when all the others decide they no longer want to be part of your program and start to break away from the Novotny Borg Collective? Vic is the first to do so; I suspect Brian is about to defect, too.”

“Brian would never do that! He…”

“Owes you? Is that what you were about to say? It certainly isn’t a matter of love with you, is it? Well, I know that Vic got tired of paying, and now that Justin is back where he belongs, and that’s with Brian, in case you’ve missed the memo, I doubt that Brian will be too far behind.”

“I…”

“No, Deb. Just no. There is nothing you can say or do to make me think that I’m not seeing what I see regarding you. You think if you keep everyone under your thumb to bail Michael out of whatever shenanigans he’s making for himself this time, once again you won’t have to own up to the fact that you tried to overcompensate for his fatherless existence, thereby creating a spoiled fucking brat. Well here’s a clue for you, and take it to do with what you will. Michael has been gone for two months, and other than you, no one has missed him. Instead, we’ve watched you twist yourself in knots when he doesn’t call by a certain time. It’s been both entertaining and sickening to watch at the same time. Personally, I’ve wanted to recommend you see someone who could prescribe you Valium many times, but I refrained because I love Vic more than I would ever be concerned with you. It would hurt him to suggest his sister is sick, when there is really nothing wrong except the fear of being left behind. But since I am a caring individual, even where you’re concerned to a small degree, I’m going to recommend that you start small. Don’t answer the phone when Michael calls, just once, so he can see how it feels to have his calls ignored by his Maw. Because contrary to your belief, I’m sure that’s exactly what he’s doing to you every time you call and he has no need for you right then.”

Thankfully Vic came in as soon as he finished his sentence, and they left. I really can’t stand the bastard who turned my brother’s head so much that he’s actually planning to leave me. See? I knew him starting that business with Emmett was going to give him ideas that he didn’t need me anymore. I should have discouraged it, but Brian told them he would invest in their dream if Vic would take his foot the fuck out of the grave and get the fuck on with the business of living. That’s the other part of the reason I’ve been willing to go with Vic to bring food and supplies to loft. I wanted to see if there was any new information on Michael of course, but I also wanted to make sure that no deep conversations would go on. Which I knew wouldn’t happen with me present . Anything that they didn’t want me to know wouldn’t be discussed, and I know that during the day and most evenings, Vic is busy with Emmett, Rodney, or a catering job. So I didn’t worry that Vic would have time to happen up at the loft. I suppose that I worried mostly that Vic had noticed when I’d left my bank statements, and a bill of sale for a house that I will never live in, but purchased for Michael since his credit is so fucking bad out on the table. I just didn’t need him running to Brian to tell him what I’d done for Michael, once again putting myself in hock. I mean, it’s not like Brian can bail me out of my financial troubles this time anyway; he has his own. So mine are none of his fucking business, and he could save the lectures for himself! I pick up the phone again to dial Michael’s number, and again! It rolls to voicemail.

“Michael, this is your mother. I suggests you call me soon, or I’m going to take that house out of my name. Call me right back, you hear?!” I slam down the receiver, thankful that unlike most people, I kept the rotary phone on the wall.

MELANIE:

I’m dog-fucking-tired as I come into the house. To say that it has been a long day is an understatement, and all I want to do is climb into bed and go to sleep. Then wake up and do it all again tomorrow. Sadly, Lindsay has other ideas.

“Where the fuck have you been, Mel? I’ve been calling your cell phone for hours!”

“I was working. Was there some emergency?”

“No. But what if there was? And by the way, I called your office phone too, and there was no answer. So again, I ask, Where. Were. You?!”

“And again I answer, I was working! You know you might try it instead of prancing your ass around that gallery part-time. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to continue pulling so many long hours and we could cut your bitching sessions to just half the fucking time!”

“I like my job just fine, and I wouldn’t be bitching if you were home at a decent hour.”

“You’re so full of shit, Lindsay. It’s just past ten o’clock on a night that I would normally be at the office late anyway. What you really want to know is if I was with Brian and Justin. The answer is yes, I was.”

“I thought you said you were working…”

“I am. They have something they want me to look into for them.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Attorney-client privilege or in layman’s terms, none of your business.”

“But… but Mel, I’m your wife!”

“And that has fuck all to do with what?”

“I have a right to know what the father of my son is up to!”

“You’ve had little to nothing to do with Brian for months, and now all of a sudden you want to portray caring friend and earth mother? You know what Lindsay, on behalf of Brian and Justin, FUCK YOU! And on that note, good night!”

I leave her standing at the base of the stairs with her mouth hanging open in shock. I listened tonight to all that Justin said about Michael and could see that every word he uttered applied to Lindsay as well. I swear if it wasn’t for Gus, I would do what Ben is doing and design a life away from her. If I’m mad at Brian for anything, it’s agreeing to have a baby with Lindsay, because it trapped both of us- meaning him and I- to her perfectly sane insanity. I love Gus, but right now, I’m not so sure how I feel about his biological mother.

I head into the nursery to place a kiss on Gus’ forehead before heading to the guest room. Sometimes, I regret not being pregnant right now. But as I replay the conversation with Brian in my mind, I understand the wisdom of his words and the conclusion I drew all on my own. I love my job, and I especially loved it today. The injustice perpetrated against Brian and Justin is the reason I got into law in the first place; to right wrongs, to fight for the underdogs within the scope of the law, to get justice for those the law tends to overlook or view as less than because of people like Gardner Vance. Having a baby right now wouldn’t have let me fight to recoup all that Brian and Justin lost, both at Vance’s hands… and at Michael’s.

Now that’s going to be a fight to the death, so to speak. Michael is not going to do what he ought, because he firmly believes that he’s right. And whereas I’m pissed on Justin’s behalf, I’m amazed at how bad I feel for Brian in all this. He’s spent over half his life trusting Michael, and therefore Deb. So I come to find out that the most honest person I know has in fact, been unknowingly living a lie. He’s not only going to lose the man he considered his best friend out of this, but the woman who took care of him when his own parents abused him or were just plain indifferent. He’s going to have a lot to deal with in the coming weeks and I’m not going to let Lindsay’s need for attention put more pressure on him. Nor am I going to let her manipulate the situation to suit her own fantasies regarding Brian and Justin’s relationship.

I still can’t believe he asked me to draw up Legal Domestic Partnership papers for Justin to sign. I guess when I think about it, it really shouldn’t be all that surprising. Brian and Justin have always marched to their own tune, in their own time. It’s when they didn’t that problems arose. But to be broke together the way they have been, Brian has to realize that Justin would never willingly leave him again. Aside from the money factor, there is the fact that Justin is willing to do whatever he can for the two of them to make it, even if he has to carry Brian, kicking and screaming, to where they need to be. I can honestly say that money doesn’t mean happiness, because if it did, then Lindsay and I wouldn’t be having the emotional issues we’re having right now. And yet, Brian and Justin are finding a way to be happy just being together, despite their financial woes. That has to mean something, right?

The knock on the door disturbs my thoughts as I take care of my ablutions before going to bed. “Yes?”

“Mel, are you coming to bed?”

“No, Lindsay. I’m going to bed right here. The last thing I want to do is end up having to get up and coming in here after the screaming match you’ll instigate. So I figured I save myself the trouble. Good night.”

“Mel…”

“Good night, Lindsay,” I say, effectively killing the argument.

After checking my briefcase and laptop bag to make sure both are locked, I lay down and close my eyes, vowing that Lindsay will not be one more obstacle. “For any of us,” I whisper.

CHAPTER 12: PAPERWORK

One week later…

MELANIE:

Well, a lot has happened in the last week. Lindsay is still not speaking to me, and honestly, I don’t care. I’m there for Gus, not her. I don’t know if that will change, but it definitely won’t if she doesn’t stop sulking and take her head out of her ass. I’m still sleeping in the guestroom and I don’t foresee that changing anytime soon. It’s the only place I can find some semblance of peace since she’s taken to waiting in my home office with the lights off. It’s bad when you start to feel stalked in your own home. So, to show her it’s not really bothering me, I’ve taken to grabbing the necessary files for me to work on from the office when she leaves for work in the mornings. Any research I need to do for it I have my paralegal do while we’re at the office. Inconvenient? Absolutely, but if it means peace and quiet while I’m there, then whatever works!  

But moving right along… Hunter gave me the address of where Michael was staying, so as Brian’s attorney, I had the car towed back to Pittsburgh at Michael’s expense. I’ve learned that Hunter is the KING of practical jokes, and if the situation surrounding the matter was funny, we all would have been laughing. Hunter had brought Brian’s key to the Corvette back to Pittsburgh with him, along with Michael’s wallet. So he couldn’t have beat a hasty retreat back to Pittsburgh once he discovered Hunter missing, even if he wanted to. Which, if I’m honest, I suspect he doesn’t. It’s not that he suspects that we’ve found the records or anything, just that he knows we’re all pissed at him, and he doesn’t know where Hunter is. His only real hope of not getting smacked up is that one saving grace. He ended up calling Brian and confessing that he couldn’t find the car key, so Brian put me on the phone with him. We explained how we knew by telling him that Hunter called to let us know where it is, but as long as we have the car back, we’re really not interested in Michael’s whereabouts. He seemed relieved and angry by turns. I told him that it’s his life, and what he chose to do with from here on out is his business.

Of course, that led to him calling Mama Bear, after which we all told her the same thing. We also informed her that Hunter was missing, which took the wind out of her sails for about a minute. But it also put things into perspective for us on how she feels about anything regarding Michael. So it’s no surprise that she’s in my office now, playing another game of divide and conquer.

“So you’re not going to go looking for Michael?” she asks, in that demanding tone she has, full of expectation.

“Deb, he’s a grown man and should be able to look after himself. Because we’ve all heard from him, it would be silly, and in all honesty illegal, to waste the resources of law enforcement simply because his mother wants him home. Michael has not come back yet simply because he’s afraid of what will happen if he comes back without Hunter.”

“Who the fuck cares about Hunter?! This is my son and your friend we’re talking about!”

“We do! We ALL do!” I yell back at her. “What we don’t care about is a grown man-child, who calls you when we all finally stop listening to his excuses as to why he can’t grow the fuck up and be the man his age says he should be. Well, if you choose to keep cleaning up his shit for him, then none of us can stop you. But as for the rest of us, we’re done doing it! We have our own things going on, and none of that involves saving Michael from his self-destruction once again.”

“But…

“And for the record, Hunter has been here for more than a week, while Michael has been doing God knows what with whom.”

“What? What do you mean he’s here when Michael isn’t?! Michael’s been worried sick about him!”

“I’m sure he has, but not for the reasons you think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ask Michael, although I doubt he’ll tell you the truth. Hell, you wouldn’t believe the truth if it was wrapped in flashing neon lights, prancing around the stage in Shanda Leer’s wig. But ask your son anyway, and let’s just see what he tells you. Because Michael will only tell the part of the story that keeps him a little boy in your eyes, not truth of what he really is. And you’ll fall for it as you always do, so good luck with that. Also, tell him he owes me five-hundred dollars for having the car tuned up so that Brian could sell it.”

“He’s selling the car, so why should Michael pay you anything?”

“Because I’ll sue the thong off him if he doesn’t. Now leave!”

She left after I called security to have her escorted out, but she sure didn’t go quietly. No, she called Brian first, and when he didn’t pick up, she called Lindsay to talk sense into me.

“Mel, why did you threaten Michael? And what’s the meaning of you paying for repairs on Brian’s car without consulting me?”

“Well since I used my own money to do so, why would you feel that I should have consulted you? Did you consult me about the new dresses in Gus’ closet in a size six? I mean, Gus is a little young for dressing in drag, isn’t he?”

She flushes from my statement, knowing that she’s been caught. “That was a business expense…”

“Well so was this, as in, none of yours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, as in we will discuss this now, not when you get ready!”

“I’ve already said everything I intend to on the matter, so unless you’d like to leave the same way Deb did, I suggest you go of your own accord.”

“Mel? You would really call security on your own wife?”

“When my wife actually shows up and stops acting like a pod person, perhaps I will think of you differently. In the meantime, this is your last chance to leave without making a scene. And we know how much you just love those…”

After she left, I immediately call Brian to let him know of the conversations with both Deb and Lindsay and what was possibly heading his way. We all agreed to keep the money he and Justin were gifted quiet for now in order to have a bit of calm before the proverbial storm breaks. “I’ll be over in about an hour with all of the paperwork.”

“All of it?” he asks, and I can’t help but smile at his anxiousness.

“Yeah, all of it. By the way, Vance is trying to play hardball.”

“I figured he would, we’ll talk about it when you get here. Besides, I have a surprise for you when you do.”

“Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Brian Kinney? No way, you’re giving me anything of value.”

“Aww, I’m hurt.”

“Bullshit!” I laugh, grateful that since I really opened my eyes to see the kind of man he is I no longer see Brian as a threat, but as my greatest ally. “But listen, let me get out of here. I’m scared but anxious to see what you have for me.”

“Come to the downstairs loft, instead of the top floor. We’re using it as office space until the building is ready.”

“Couldn’t handle the clutter, huh? You actually lasted longer than I expected. Shit, that means I owe Justin fifty bucks!”

“Which he will happily collect and I’ll help him spend. By the way, I finally told him about the accounts,” he says quietly.

“How’d he take it?”

“I’m still having trouble sitting down.”

“EWWWWWW!!!!! BRIAN!” I scream, as I hear him laughing before he hangs up.

I chuckle to myself. Yes indeed, my relationship with Brian Kinney has changed drastically, and I can’t help but be happy about that. I wonder what my relationship with Brian Taylor-Kinney will be like, I muse to myself as I grab all of the necessary paperwork and hurriedly place them in my briefcase.

As I’m on my way out, one of the partners in the firm, Harry Donaldson, calls me over. “Ah, Mel. I’m glad I caught you. Do you have time for a quick word?”

“I was just on my way to a client meeting, but I have a couple of minutes. What’s this about?”

I listen attentively, basically in shock at what he has to say. Brian is not the only one with a surprise.

TED:

My first week home…. where to start? To say it has been interesting would be the understatement of the year. First, there was the way the letters of amends were received. Let’s just say that the ones I thought would be received with a sneer, weren’t, and the ones I thought would be met with gracious acceptance, weren’t. Lindsay was indifferent, which I would have never expected of her with that mother of all creation vibe she usually has. But then it’s very rare that I ever see her without Mel present. So perhaps I was just seeing the real Lindsay at long last. As for Deb… well, I suppose she was just having a bad day because of the situation with Michael… Emmett explained it to me. And what he didn’t tell me Justin filled in. Still, I’m having a tough time reconciling the woman I’ve come to regard as a mother of sorts to the shrewish woman I’ve seen since I’ve come home. I think that’s the real reason why Brian wanted his new office moved down here.

Ah, I suppose I should explain how I ended up working with Brian and Justin on their new business venture. I’m still quite amazed that Brian was so quick to trust me after my foray into drug addiction. How that even came about was beyond amazing to me. It still is really. After I got home, I was literally all thumbs. I kept being assailed by the memories of what I’d done to myself, and most of all, to Emmett. Blake and I talked a lot about it. Strangely, it was comforting to talk to someone who knew the same people I did. I suppose that was surprising because usually it happens in reverse, where your counselor is basically someone completely anonymous to you and the people you know. Yet, Blake assured me that drug abuse is an illness, and I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. That not even functional people are able to do it on their own, although many of them refuse to acknowledge that they are addicted in the first place. It put the reality of addiction into a perspective I’d never had before, and made me feel somewhat proud that I was actually getting help.

When I told him about my personal rock bottom, instead of sitting in judgement, he walked me through the retelling of the traumatic experience, and told me that on the days I feel like picking up again, remember what I had lost, and what I had just regained by being brave enough to tell my story. I didn’t understand what he meant until I spent just a mere hour in the condo by myself, and just had to get out. I roamed the streets for a long time, not paying attention to where I was going. I even bought some meth, although I still didn’t know why. And the shame of it is that I can’t say whether I would have taken it or not… if Emmett hadn’t found me.

Instead of berating me, he took me to his apartment, which was doubling as the place where he and Vic had been working. The building looked familiar to me, but at the time, I couldn’t place why. I just felt so out of touch with everything, and everyone. Stepping off the semi-rickety elevator onto the third floor, I was surprised to hear a raspy, but completely recognizable voice of someone very familiar exiting an apartment just across the hall. Emmett gripped my arm, keeping me in place. I suppose in retrospect that it was to keep me from bolting, which if I’m honest was my first inclination. It wasn’t long after that the owner of said voice, noticed me.

“Theodore. I would say it’s nice to see you, but then…”

“You don’t lie?” I answered, already preparing for the insult I knew would surely be coming.

“Well if you had let me finish, you would have known that the little soft-hearted twat, better known as Justin, was about to bribe me to accompany him to your place. You just cost me one of Sunshine’s best blow jobs,” he tells me, mournfully.

Before I even caught the words coming out of my mouth, I told him, “Well I’m sure he’ll make it up to you later.”

And once again, instead of the snark I was expecting, Brian did the thing I never would have guessed. He laughed and hugged me, and asked if I had everything I needed. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first, but then it dawned on me that my addiction changed everyone, for the better or the worse. It wasn’t just me who went through it, but everyone I considered family. I was even more in shock when Justin’s sunshine smile was directed at me… AT ME! He walked up and told me that now that I officially survived my walk on the wildside, it was time to get back to the business of being Ted, who was in fact his hero for doing what so many others couldn’t. It made me feel special, like I was worthy of the faith they were about to put in me again. And I was determined that I wouldn’t let them down.

As we all settled into Emmett’s apartment, which just happened to be in the same loft building that Brian and Justin lived in, they filled me in on all I had missed while I was away. The thing that struck me the most was that none of them- not a one- treated me as if I was a disappointment or untrustworthy… they didn’t make me feel like an outsider. I was still family to all three of the men sitting around the table having coffee and cookies, just as if it was any other day. And that’s when the big question was popped. Brian told me about the $300k he and Justin had received from an organization called Fly Free and that they were in the process of starting their own advertising agency. At first, I was feeling a little despondent, wondering what I was going to do for work since Jerk@Work went kaput along with Stockwell’s bid for mayor. After hearing all that Brian and Justin did to stop his campaign and ultimately get him indicted, I once again felt out of place for a moment. But then Justin’s voice interrupted my reverie which caused a new sensation… the world tilting.

“We’d like you to come and work for us, Ted. Of course, Brian can do the books, and with everything you’ve taught me over the years, there’s no doubt that we can handle the accounting portion of the business ourselves. But we would really like you to be a part of this. Bottom line, you need a job, and we need to know the ins and outs of tax breaks and such. We also need someone to help serve as our Human Resources Administrator alongside Cynthia when it’s time to hire more staff. Brian and I have talked about who we want where and the one thing we both agree on is that we’ve missed you, not only because you’re a kickass accountant, but because you’re family. And we want to help give you back your independence.”

To say that I was floored would be the understatement of the century. I was being handed my opportunity of a lifetime, regardless of my past. What was strange is that I never registered it as Brian and Justin offering me charity, they were offering me a chance to feel useful again. I honestly used to think that it was being an accountant that I hated, but I know differently now. It was the monotony of being a robotic peon at Wertschafter’s that I hated! But here were Brian and Justin giving me the opportunity to get in on the ground floor of something that was sure to be a big fat fucking success. Before I could answer, Brian told me to take a few days to think about it; to evaluate if I was really ready for the workload starting a company would bring me. I liked that he was concerned in that usual Brian-esque way that very few knew about. Justin handed me their standard contract that they had Melanie draw up, and told me that the offer would stand as long as it took for me to tell them what they wanted to hear. I think that’s what really sealed it for me. The fact that Brian and Justin were willing to wait until I was comfortable being myself again showed their confidence in me, and did more towards helping me believe in myself than words could ever describe. I won’t let all of us down.

So here I am, a week after making what is shaping up to be the best decision I have ever made. Brian and Justin purchased the loft directly beneath theirs when it became available and are currently in the process of having stairs put in to connect the floors. I think it was an incredibly smart investment, especially since once the office space Jennifer found to be the headquarters of Kinnetik, Inc. is ready, they will officially have a duplex. I swear, those two men are so fucking smart, and being around them, watching them work is… well it’s just plain freaking awesome! They don’t allow me to apply Werscharfter’s ideas of playing it safe. And get this... they are even grooming me on what to look for to make the best campaigns. It’s like going to college all over again in a sense. Brian is the dean, Justin and Cynthia are the professors, and I am the student. And I LOVE it!

The knock at the door startles me, even though I know who it is. I haven’t seen her since I left rehab, although we’ve talked on the phone. Admittedly, I haven’t gone back to the house since my frosty reception from Lindsay, and Mel has been more than a little busy of late. I figured when it was time to get together, we would; she’s still one of my best friends, after all. I know now that nothing would ever change that even if she did break my heart with her brand of tough love. It was her words, which stayed with me while I was in rehab, and yes, at first they hurt. But as I sat there in both my group and private sessions, I began to really understand that Mel didn’t stop loving me because I made the mistake of taking Gus’ college fund money to attend a White Party. She loved me enough to tell me the truth about myself as she saw it. So I fought to regain the respect for me that I’d always seen in her eyes. I also fought to respect myself again, and to know that I am still deserving of her love and friendship. Between Brian paying my mortgage payments for the year, and Mel handling the legal aspects when the building’s owner was making moves to evict me, I owe them both so much. Because of them, I had a home to come back to. And thanks to Emmett’s friend Horatio, it looks nothing like the condo I’d lost myself in. It’s different; I’m different, and I’m so grateful for that!

I stand up from my desk as she enters, talking animatedly with her briefcase in hand. She hugs Justin, and surprisingly gives a punch to the arm of Brian in camaraderie. You could knock me over with a feather in surprise as I see absolutely none of the usual animosity between them. Oh, I know what they told me their relationship was like now, but to actually see it firsthand is another matter altogether. They may never be best friends, but the fact that they are friends at all is nothing short of a miracle! It’s then that Brian points me out to her, and suddenly my world freezes as she bursts into tears. Shoving her briefcase into his chest, she runs to me, catching me up in a hug which squeezes me and knocks the breath out of me at the same time. But I won’t complain, not one itty bit as we hold each other.

“I’ve missed you, Teddy,” she whispers as she soaks the shoulder of my shirt.

I chuckle. “I’ve missed you, too, but what’s all this? Pitbulls aren’t supposed to cry, and from what I hear you’ve been growling and biting the asses of all that oppose you.”

She laughs and wipes her face, but doesn’t let go of my hand. “I see the chatty Cathies have been telling tales, but they’re not wrong. Which is part of the reason I’m here. There is so much to tell you… actually so much to tell you all.”

“Should I leave?” Cynthia asks, already moving to grab her coat.

“No, not at all,” Mel says as she drags me over to the sitting area. “This involves you, too. But first, is there any coffee? I need a caffeine jolt to tell this.”

“Are you sure? Because you have not stopped bleating and blubbering since you came in here,” Brian says snarkily, causing us all to laugh.

“Can it, Kinney… or should I call you Taylor-Kinney now?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. Apparently, this is either part of the story I missed, or one that had not yet been revealed.

“You mean they’re done?” Justin asks, excitedly.

“What? What’s done?” Both Cynthia and I look at each other puzzled.

“Yes, they are!” Mel smiles. “But Justin, I think Brian has something that he needs to tell you about the papers.”

Brian turns to Justin, pulling his lips in before speaking. “I- I know I should have asked all nice and proper-like before having them drawn up the way I have, but it’s something we talked about… joked about really, before everything went to shit between us. But things are better now, more solid than it’s ever been. So I guess what I’m asking is that we make it official. Let’s not just be the Taylor-Kinney Corporation on paper, but in name as well. I guess what I’m asking…”

“Yes, Brian. There’s no need to say anything else. It will be my pleasure- my great honor- to share your name. And don’t worry about being proper; when have we ever been what others deem appropriate? It just wouldn’t have been us, and I might have questioned your sanity or the validity of what we are going to do… what we are doing. So kiss me, you fool and seal the deal and later when the others have gone, we’ll make it even more official our way.”

Brian pulls Justin onto his lap and kisses the hell out of him, totally uncaring that we are sitting here. My mouth is agape as I watch them. It’s a gesture of both passion and love. Love? Well I suppose I always knew that Brian loved Justin. That young man has managed to do what no other man could, and took Brian off of the god-like pedestal we’d all placed him on. He knocked down the walls that surrounding the normally-aloof man, and exposed the human hidden inside. Oh Brian still has his asshole persona, and that’s not going to change, but it’s more directed towards outsiders now than toward the people who are closest to him. He’s still the same uncompromising and driven man, ever stalwart in his convictions. But to see, and know, the man beneath the myth, and to see the man who continuously brings him to the fore take a step that we all never thought we’d see Brian take… well, life continues to be surprising in the best of ways.

“Congrats, you two. I know you’re going to be very happy together,” I say, sincerity and other emotions causing my voice to shake a bit. I feel both awed and humbled to be included in this moment between two very private men.

“FINALLY!” Cynthia shouts. “Damn it, Brian, I’m so fucking proud of you.” When he looks at her with his eyebrow raised, she snickers. “Okay, and you’ll never see that much exuberance from me again. But I just want to go on record, Justin, that I told him years ago that if he didn’t nab your cutie-pie ass up, he would be a damn fool. But we know Brian… and he’s no fool.”

“Uh thanks, Cyn I think. Meet Cynthia Moore, my assistant and the queen of backhanded compliments,” Brian says.

“Well, I learned from the best,” she confirms, and smiles wider than I’ve ever seen her in the years since I’ve met her.

“Well as soon as you guys sign this mountain of papers, I can get them filed. In the meantime, I have some news of my own,” Mel says, and then takes a deep breath. “My firm decided not to offer me the partnership…”

“What? Why?” Justin barks, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so upset.

“Wait, Sunshine. Let her finish, before you go all mini Rage again,” he says, and I have to wonder what that statement was about. I’ll have to ask Emmett.

“There is more. Based on the work we’ve been doing for you regarding Vance and Michael, other corporations are catching wind of it. Although the particulars of the litigation is still confidential and protected, someone on the inside of the cases talked, and we are now being requested. Of course, this means that while mine and Janean’s caseloads are almost doubling, the others within the firm’s vaunted halls, are minimizing at a rapid rate. That includes all of the civil litigation cases that I’ve been working on beyond this. With a 91% strike rate between the two of us, people are not willing to take the risk of not having Jenean or I working for them. So the partners thought that Janean and I would be better served to be working within our own practice. They are willing to allow us to keep the cases already in progress, including yours, to get us started. They want the split to be amicable and not come off as if we’re being fired.”

“But in a sense, aren’t you?” Justin asks, a little calmer, but still ultimately pissed off.

“Yes, and no. For the good of the firm, Janean and I agreed that this is the best possible move, not only for them, but for us, too. Now, instead of having to give a portion of our fee to Donaldson and Salzman, we keep the lion’s share for ourselves. The only stipulation of the separation is that other than our current assistants and caseloads, we can’t take anyone else with us, or let them know where we’re going to be. It’s one thing if the other attorneys and paralegals choose to quit on their own, but another if we poach their staff for our own practice.”

“Okay, that makes sense, I guess,” Justin says, weighing out everything she said. “Oh shit! We have to call Mom. We have to get you and Janean up and running as soon as possible! You’ll need office space as soon as possible, and furniture and staff. You already have a client list, so getting a bank loan for an LLC shouldn’t be that difficult…”

He’s immediately off the sofa like a shot, grabbing pen and paper along with his cell phone, and issuing orders to Brian for more coffee all around, like his name is Jeeves. What’s amazing is that Brian just chuckles and gets up to do his bidding. It’s something that we’ve all come to expect when Justin gets going. And that’s exactly what I’ve come to love and respect about Justin. He may still have his problems with the after-bashing effects, but his brain has once again returned to the agile mind hidden beneath all that blond and angelic looks. The world is in for a big shock when Justin Taylor- uh, Taylor-Kinney, decides to really take ahold of it. “So, congratulations are definitely in order!

We settle in to make plans with Mel, and by the time Jennifer arrives, Mel’s firm is already on its way to being formed. Cynthia has already contacted the agencies she’s developed a relationship with to advise that once the business loan and building are secured, they are to fax her the resumes of all qualified applicants. Upon Mel’s request and with Janean’s blessing, Cynthia agreed to act as their Human Resources manager, until they can find an adequate employee of their own. It’s going to be my job to take care of the insurance and all other accounting-related work. As for real estate, Jennifer thought that it would be easiest to put in an offer for the recently vacated building right next to what’s going to be Kinnetik’s new home. Although the renovations on Kinnetik are almost finished, the new offices for Mel and Janean will need a bit of work as well. So with a silent conversation of their own, Brian and Justin offer Mel temporary use of some office space within Kinnetik until their own reno is completed. That way it won’t be a case of ‘hurry up and wait’ when it comes to opening for business.

With a solid plan in mind, Justin brings up the question each of us had, but were unwilling to voice and spoil the good mood. “What are you going to tell Lindsay?”

Mel thought about it. “Why tell her anything? Currently, it’s as if we’re living separate lives, and if it wasn’t for Gus, I would even be there. She’s become even more shrewish than she’s always been when her bid for attention is ignored, and I’ve been too busy to give into her demands. So she’s sulking and slamming around the house at every opportunity. My only worry is how this is affecting Gus. It makes me really happy that I’ve put off my own baby plans for the interim. Personally, I think she’s seeing someone else. I mean, if you’re not getting your needs met at home, you have to be getting them met somewhere, right?”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Jennifer asks.

“Strangely, and probably the most telling, is that it doesn’t. It’s keeping her out of my face and business. I never thought things would get this bad this fast between us, but now that I think of it, it’s been brewing since about a week after the anniversary party. It’s almost like she’s looking for reasons to pick fights, and with me not giving them to her, she’s creating the drama. I’ve just made the conscious decision not to participate, that’s all.”

Jennifer nods. “It’s what Craig did after he kicked Justin out. Oh, I knew about the affairs, but figured as long as my children were taken care of, he could go and play plug-in-socket as much as he wanted. Justin coming out just added a new layer to the drama that was building. Once he decided that Justin was no longer his son, it made it easier for me to detach emotionally from him. Did it hurt to do? Sure. Mostly because I was worried about how Molly would process it. But once she started seeing little things for herself, like the way he treated Justin and me, her attitude about the divorce began to change. Somehow, I’ve raised two very well-rounded, well-adjusted free thinkers, and it made leaving that bigoted bastard easier.”

“Mel, you have your third-party adoption rights, and thanks to Justin, I still have mine. Lindsay can’t stop either of us from spending time with Gus, so why stay?”

“The first reason is that I own the house, and my name is still the only one on the mortgage. Sure, I can kick her out, but where would that leave Gus? Secondly, I kind of want her to leave on her own so that she doesn’t have any ready-made excuses about how big bad Mel bullied her. I refuse to let her play victim in all of this. Her parents won’t accept her back unless she agrees to swallow dick daily. But that means that her one tie to you, Brian, will have to be severed. They haven’t even accepted Gus, although he’s a child and has nothing to do with his gay parents’ choices. They definitely won’t want to acknowledge his existence while trying to marry her off to some unsuspecting schmuck. And yes I know, I was such a schmuck, so hold that thought Brian.” She laughs, and I’m glad to see this whole Lindsay situation hasn’t affected her attitude about life.

Sure she loved Lindsay, but I’ve watched helplessly as the WASP witch has molded my friend into a person I didn’t recognize at times. It was hard to stand idly by while Lindsay browbeat her, or used Brian as the metaphorical club to make the confident woman I always knew bend to her will. I’m glad that Mel has finally decided to mentally severe the tether that kept her bound to Lindsay, but I understand what she means about Gus. With Lindsay being the biological mother, unless she can be proven unfit, Brian and Mel will have to jump through hoops to see him. It’s definitely a situation that wouldn’t benefit anyone… other than Lindsay.

“So Ted, now that you’re back from your… hm, therapeutic vacation, does that mean you’ll be working with Mel and Janean to get to the bottom of the Michael madness?” Jennifer asks me. I have to love her delicateness and unwillingness to remind me that I was in rehab.

“Indeed it does, Jennifer. I just need the books and to be put in touch with the forensic accountant. I’ll know exactly what to look for.”

“If it helps any, I know that he bought a house using Debbie’s name. But…”

I shake my head in disbelief. “That little son of a bitch.” When they all look at me puzzled, I explain. “It wasn’t just Debbie’s name he used, but the money Brian gave her constantly to pay her mortgage over the years. It’s the only way he could ever save enough to buy a house or even a damn car. Working at the Big Q doesn’t yield hefty returns, but laying guilt trips on the man by using the woman who doesn’t know how to say no when her baby is in financial trouble… now that gives not only hefty returns, but also the fact that because it’s Debbie, the money wouldn’t be expected to be paid back. You’re going to have to sue them separately for the house, Brian.”

“But I don’t care about the money per se…” he protests, but I hold up my hand to stop him.

“It’s not about the money, Brian, but the principle of the loan. They obtained it under false pretenses, and not only that, I will testify to the conditions the loan was made. It wasn’t gifted, which is what they will try to say. It was loaned and should have accrued interest. You’re lucky that I have been your accountant since the very beginning and have kept strict records. It’s how I can prove that every single penny you gave them was earmarked. All I will need is a court-order to subpoena the record of mortgage payments on Deb’s house, which is what the money was supposed to be used for.”

“I’ll get right on that.” Melanie smiles at me.

“Welcome back, Teddy,” Brian says, and I feel myself tear up. He’s never called me that.

CHAPTER 13: PLAN AND REGROUP

MICHAEL:

“Well that answers that question! Thanks, Maw. I’ll be home as soon as I can find a way back there. That little shit is going to pay...and I mean PAY BIG! I can only hope he hasn’t heard everything. I can’t lose the element of surprise. And don’t worry about the shop. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be able to sell it and give you the proceeds for all you did to help me. But first, I have to make it back there and then get the records at the shop. I need to go over the books. Has Ted resurfaced yet?”

As I listen to her detail what she knows of the happenings in Pittsburgh, I am fuming! I can’t believe that fucking hustler told them where to find Brian’s car, and that he’s been back in Pittsburgh for over a week and no one told me! I finally broke down after three days to tell Brian that I couldn’t find the damn keys to his precious car, when he already knew it. And why? Because of fucking Hunter! Well, my first order of business when I get back there is to make sure he no longer has a place to stay. Ben will finally listen to me, or he’s going to have to make a choice. I’m certain he will choose me until I say otherwise. Besides being with Ben will allow me to tie up the loose ends before finally reaping the rewards of my endless patience with Brian. I’ve waiting long enough, and if he has finally admitted that the play acting he did with Boy Wonder was indeed a relationship, then dammit, he can admit the one he and I are going to have at long last is a real one!

“What are you thinking about over there?” Lance asks me as he emerges from the bathroom.

I’m glad he and I stayed in contact all of these years. Although we went to the same high school and were acquaintances, over the years I have gotten to know him pretty well. He and I share a common bond in that we both love Brian. But whereas I am in the unique position of being Brian’s best friend, Lance has been repeatedly tossed aside. So in essence, he’s been living vicariously through me all these years, while I’ve been constantly feeding him information. I have to admit that it’s been nice to be appreciated for my talents.

“Right now, I’m trying to figure out how to get rid of several pains in my ass. The first one being Hunter…”

“That little hustler kid you set me up with? What’s he done now?”

“Aside from giving Brian and Mel the address to track down his fucking Corvette, he’s been back in Pittsburgh since last week when he disappeared on us. No doubt he’s back in Ben’s care, filling his head with bullshit. I have to get home!”

“Calm down, Michael. You said it yourself… who is going to believe him over the friend they have known basically all of their lives? Hustlers are known for lies and thievery. Hmm… perhaps that can play to our advantage. Didn’t you say that your wallet was missing as well as the car keys?’

I nod my head, but then shake it real fast. “The problem with your thought process is that Hunter gave my wallet to Brian, who in turn made sure that I had enough cash in my wallet before advising the towing people that I would be paying them directly when they came to pick up the car. Basically, if I wanted my wallet released from the jackasses Brian sent, I had to hand over the money from my wallet. Not only am I out of money, but my ATM card I was using no longer registers, no does the credit card that Ben got me. Ugh! That fucking kid is just too fucking smart for my own good.”

“That he is, but what if I file a report against him?”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well first of all, your house is full of stolen property, although you are technically just holding most of it for me. with the exception of what you paid me for. There are items in here that were on Brian’s original police report. All it would take is a cross-reference, or even a counter-complaint from Brian’s attorney, which he will undoubtedly hire to get the kid off, for the facts of the case to come to light. We need to stay under the radar with all of this. We’ve worked too hard to fuck things up now that we’re just about at the finish line.”

Lance nods at me. I hope he sees the wisdom of my words. “So what’s the plan?”

“Right now, I need to make it back to Pittsburgh and prove that Hunter is a liar. We don’t know what he told everyone back there yet, and no one is really giving Ma any useful information. As for Boy Wonder, I’m going to set him up so that it looks like he’s been cheating again. There was this guy Eric he fucked once at some frat party. I think he should make a reappearance.”

“What about Ethan? What happened to him?”

“Who knows what he did to fuck up with Justin.” I roll my eyes. “Chances are he cheated or some such bullshit. I really shouldn’t have sent a boy to do the work of a man, but I was following the advice of Lindsay based on my own conversations with Justin. The thing with her is that you can never tell if you’re the one doing the leading, or if you’re being played to follow her suggestions while she stays blameless. But something Ma said tells me that there is trouble in Muncherville again.”

“I’ll bet you’re glad you didn’t offer up your little swimmers now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am. It was only an option so that Brian and I would have children together, one lesbian removed.” I sigh. “So really now all I have to do is find someone with money who the gold-digging tramp will gravitate towards and then Justin will be out of the picture once more and for good this time.”

“Perhaps you should give him a parting gift, like his actual share of the Rage profits.”

“No way! I’ve earned that while all he did was draw the fucking pictures. Trust me, it was nothing to write home about.”

“Uh, Mike, I hate to tell you this, but no one really read Rage for the dialogue… at least not alone,” he adds when I narrow my eyes at him. “But as loathe as I am to admit it, Justin is an amazing artist. Someday, with the right backing, his work is going to be worth something, even in comic form.”

“Good, then we agree that he can wait until then to get any more than he already has from Rage,” I say huffily. “Although, I have been thinking of doing another issue with Boy Wonder. The thing that fucks me up the most is that it has to be with him since he owns all the copyrights to the artwork for every character he’s ever drawn for the comic. The idea I have is one he will probably never draw willingly. But if I can persuade him to draw it, then have someone else switch the characters using Photoshop, where instead of the fiddler being gone, it’s J.T. then maybe it has a shot of being published. I know that it’s the program Justin uses to readjust the characters and other such edits on the artwork before the final cut goes to the printers. It shouldn’t be that hard to find someone else able to use the program.”

Well let me know when it’s done and I’ll advertise it. No way is Brian going to do it with you killing off J.T., even if he’s pissed at Justin. I just don’t see that happening.”

“I suppose you’re right, but look… let’s get me home first and then we’ll work out the particulars by email, like we always do.”

“Sure, Mike. Just keep me abreast of the situation and I’ll do what I can from this end.”

LINDSAY:

After another hot date with Sam, I am absolutely exhausted. Thank God, Dusty and Marie agreed to take Gus for the night. He asked me to spend the night with him again, and although I told him no for the sake of propriety, I wish to hell that I hadn’t. However, I think that with Gus out of the house, it’s a good time for me to inform Mel how dangerously close she is coming to losing me… and her unlimited access to the only person that really keeps her here. I’m not dumb or blind, and I know that if it wasn’t for Gus, she and I would be over. But then again that may work in my favor since I am and will continue to be the primary parent. Well that is if I can avoid the one thing I really don’t want to do, and that’s return to the social-climbing hell known as the Peterson residence.

Now don’t get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with having ambitions. I’m a firm believer that everyone should have them. The problem is that I would have much more success on my own as a single mother receiving two child support checks than I ever would be as some WASP man’s wife. I want to be able to control my own purse, and the only way to do that is to have total and complete control over Gus. Mel and Brian should have to pay me for the privilege of being able to see him, and if she decides to play hardball by kicking me out, they will.

Going into the house with a plan of action in mind, I’m halted my a series of voices coming from the living room. To say that the interruption is pissing me off is an understatement, even as I hear the well-known gurgle of a baby. Rushing in, I am surprised and angered to see Brian and Justin, rolling around on the floor with Gus, as Mel sits like fucking Ms. Muffet on her tuffet with more of those fucking legal briefs spread out around her. Pasting a wooden smile on my face, I step further into the room.

“Well hello there, everyone. Brian, Justin what are you guys doing here?”

“Well obviously we came to see Gus, Lindz. Surely, you’re not that blind… or intoxicated. Good party?”

I narrow my eyes at his insinuation. Yes, I imbibed a little more wine than was wise, but only because I knew the shrew I would be coming home to. Anybody else would have done the same. Instead of saying that, I just tip my head at Brian and answer, “Yes. It was one of the best shows I’d done in a long time.”

“Oh? Where was it?”

“At the gallery, of course.”

“No.”

“No? What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Justin and I swung by the Auerbach show tonight and we didn’t see you there.”

“Well I was working and probably in the back office writing up a sales receipt.”

“Which probably would have happened, Lindsay, if the show had been at Bloom,” Melanie says, and I feel my face flush.

It’s not because I feel in any way guilty about what I’ve been doing behind her back. I don’t, since I have needs that have to be met, too. It’s just that I was expecting to have a little leverage with her when I revealed my affair, and then again when I laid out her options. With Brian and Justin being here for this conversation, I feel like the odds have just tipped out of my favor.

“Plain and simple Lindz, and short, sweet and to the point - I want you out of here… now, tonight, IMMEDIATELY! And don’t even think about taking Gus with you.”

“What do you mean about not taking Gus with me?! He’s my son!”

Mel tsked at my argument. “True as that may be, we both know that the only place for you to go is to your parents' house. They will never accept him, or the fact that you have had a child out of traditional wedlock. So the only real option is to offer you visitation rights. Oh, and if you’re thinking about calling your philandering lover to side with you, I wouldn’t advise it. Well unless you’re willing to bet your five minutes of fame while you’re being named in an Alienation of Affection lawsuit. That's what the lovers of cheating spouses get sued for. You see, Lindz, his wife, along with her private investigator was at the show tonight, which is yet another reason that we know you were not. So far, the wife doesn’t have your name, but if you try to fight Brian and me on this, I’m sure we’ll be all too happy to give it to her. Gus should not be used in whatever game you were thinking to play, but if you leave now, quietly, we’ll at least try to be fair during the mediation hearing. Let’s face it, you’re in no position to care for Gus, which is pretty evident by how you actually spent your evening. So your actions now will either make things really easy on you, or very, VERY hard. It’s your choice.”

I see Brian with a fucking smirk on his face, and all I can think is when the fuck did they become allies, especially over Gus?  The last time was when I was going to marry Gui. Although Brian didn’t sign over his rights, which was a bone of contention up until that point, he did ask Mel if she was willing to settle for third-party adoption so that she would always be included. I should have stopped their fucking truce right then, but I was so fucking disappointed in Brian not signing his rights over that I remained in shocked silence. From that day to this one, they have been slowly becoming friends… and I can’t fucking stand it! But I know when I’ve been beaten for the interim, so I nod slightly before heading out of the door. I knew that I had to retreat and regroup now so that I could have time to come up with a solid plan. So I’ll let them think they’ve won for now, but this isn’t over… not by a long shot!

CHAPTER 14: RETROSPECTIVE CLARITY Part 1

Two Days Later...

TED:

“Ted Schmidt for Dale Wexler please…” I wait as the secretary gets him on the line. In evaluating the books and all that had been revealed to me a couple of nights ago, I decide to go to the man who is the only one of my acquaintance who can provide me with fast answers. Fortunately, that man is high up on the food chain within the office and has unlimited access.

Dale and I met in college many moons ago. He and I were friendly, without actually being friends. When we left college, we both ended up at Wertschafter Accounting Firm for a time, but then a few months later, Dale had gotten a new job which took him out of state altogether and we lost touch. So imagine my surprise when a couple of years ago, not only did we reconnect, but I found out he was the infamous Mr. Leather within BDSM circles. Talk about amazed! Dale from college was significantly different from the Leather Daddy, complete with a body that just wouldn’t quit. The night I spent with him was one of the most unforgettable, and quite honestly, best nights of my life. What’s more is that he and I developed a real friendship, and he told me if I ever needed anything to give him a call.

“Ted Schmidt, my little fish in a big pond, how are you?” Dale’s raspy voice comes on the line, and I can’t help but smile.

“Was worse, and now I’m better so that makes today a good day.”

“What’s been going on with you? Last I heard, you were fired from Werts and had some trouble. Is that all over for you now?”

“Yeah. But you know me, Dale. I was a late bloomer, but I’m clean and sober now. I also have a new job, which I love. A couple of friends of mine are starting a new Advertising firm and I’m CFO of the company. The reason I am calling is actually on their behalf.”

After I explain most of the situation to him as I know it, he tells me, “Let me see what I can find out. Are you busy today around noon?”

“I’ll be at Brian and Justin’s downstairs loft, which is serving as our headquarters until the office space is officially ready. But I can’t make it to Chicago by noon today.”

“Oh that’s right, I didn’t tell you. I’m between offices right now. Although the number you called is at the Headquarters in Chicago, I’m actually opening a new office in the Pitts. The partners and I figured that while our Chicago office is doing well and serving both the Midwest and West Coast, we needed a branch further east to cover our clients in the Northeast. The company has grown beyond our expectations and has now expanded beyond investment banking and mortgages. So I’ll pull up the information, and maybe meet you there, or you guys can come to my office. It’s just shy of ten in the morning now, so I should have everything you need within the next hour or two.”

“That would be perfect, Dale. I’ll let the guys know.”

“But, there is something that I want from you in return.” I swallow hard. I can’t possibly think what I may have that he could possibly want. I’m just getting back on my feet from having my head in the clouds. He must have heard something in my silence because when he speaks again, I hear the smile in his voice. “Have dinner with me tonight, Ted? That’s really all I want. I want to catch up and have a few laughs… and to see for myself that you are really doing okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, Dale, I’ll have dinner with you.” I fidget in my seat. That was totally unexpected, but then again, we’re friends, right? And friends have dinner all the time. No need for the nerves… or the sizzle that went down my spine when he asked.

“Thank you. In the meantime, let me get right on this. I have a feeling it’s going to come in handy fairly quickly from what you’ve told me. And you say he was their best friend?”

“Michael was Brian’s best friend since they were fourteen, but all of that has been gradually changing since the night Brian met Justin. We all knew Michael wasn’t taking it well, but we all thought that with Michael and Justin working on Rage, he was at least beginning to accept that Justin was here for the long term. But to go to these lengths to get Justin out of Brian’s life…”

“The man either needs a straight-jacket or a good whipping! I’d settle for both.”

“Add a ball-gag too, Dale. The things that come out of Michael’s mouth in reference to Justin… well, to anyone really, it begs correcting. It’s a cesspit, but you need to meet Brian and Justin to understand exactly why I say that. In the meantime, I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, you will. And I’m clearing my schedule for the rest of the day. There’s a lot for us to catch up on.”

We hung up the phone, and I smile, feeling like I’ve just hit a reset button.

BRIAN:

Oh my God, my dick is so sore! I never realized that when I asked Justin for monogamy, there would be days that we just couldn’t fuck. Not that we didn’t want to, but that WE COULD NOT! I suppose I should start at the beginning of last week to explain what I mean. The talks we had, both before Jennifer arrived and immediately after she left, caused Justin a myriad of emotions. He exorcised those by riding me so hard and fast that I felt cross-eyed even while I was asleep. The next morning, he was still a little pissed, so he blew me, using every trick in the book and even a few he made up on the spot to reduce me- ME!- to a quivering mess. In turn, I fucked him until he was bowlegged while we were in the shower. And it has been nonstop ever since.

It’s not that Justin has gotten more insatiable. Truth be told, there has never been another man I’ve had that can keep up with me and wear me out by turns. But it’s that he has gotten more relaxed and certain of his place in my life. Justin has always been a man who fucks with his entire body… at least, he’s always been that way with me, or at least I thought so. Now, I know he’s been withholding a vital piece of himself more often than not. It’s that indefinable something that has now become my newest addiction, and I’m suddenly thinking that a month of having him exclusively will never be enough.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” I say as I feel his lashes flutter open beneath my chin. It’s a miracle he stayed that way throughout the night. But then again, he was probably fucking exhausted from taking me ninety-nine ways ‘till Sunday, both as a bottom and as a top. I feel battered and bruised… and I love it!

“Good morning, Brian,” he whispers, snuggling his face deeper into the space between my neck and shoulder. “Oh God, I don’t want to move.”

I chuckle. “We have to. We’re not quite rich enough yet to laze about all day. Give us another year, then maybe. But until then we have to work.”

“I know, but I’m so fucking sore.”

“Yeah, my dick feels like it got confused with a battering ram. We won’t even talk about my ass.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Don’t be. I loved every second of it, but I think you and I are going to have to take a break for a day or so.”

“Should be interesting.”

“Probably, but it’s better than the alternative. I don’t think either one of us would look good in traction. Now a sex swing…”

He laughs, and I really love that sound. “Way to entice me to taking a break, old man.”

“Well I have to do something to keep my junior’s attention. It pays to have a very dirty and inventive mind.”

“I’ll just bet,” he snickers, but then turns serious. “So how soon do you think it will be before he makes his appearance?”

“Way to induce a post-coital buzzkill, Sunshine. But as for an answer, he’s probably on his way back or will have arrived by now. And honestly, I don’t want to be up here when Michael arrives. I want to be able to honestly say I didn’t hear him here, instead of ignoring him the way I have been these last few weeks. I’m just not ready to face him yet.”

“Whereas for me, I just want to have it all done and over with so we can work without it hanging over our heads. I know this is hard for you, Brian.”

“But?”

“But I need to have it over as soon as possible. You know I would never do anything to intentionally put you in the middle between Michael and me…”

“No, he’s done that all on his own. He’s been doing it since the beginning, even if I refused to acknowledge it. I just figured with time he would see that there was no chance in hell he and I would have some god-awful storybook ending.” I roll my eyes. “But to go to the lengths that we’re supposing, and yet be perfectly sane…”

“I know. It makes me wonder what else he’s lied about.”

“Or more accurately, what else has he used me for. I can’t help but think of all the times when I did his homework in school as payment for needing his mother to take care of me after a run-in with Jack. Or the time when I was happy after having received the long awaited promotion from Ryder, but since Michael had fucked up at the Big Q, he was passed over for a promotion and I was made to feel like garbage for wanting to celebrate my own achievement. I feel a little guilty for even thinking this, no matter how true it is, but I know now that if the shoes were reversed, Michael wouldn’t have given a shit.”

“Then if you know that, why do you feel even remotely guilty for your thoughts?”

“Not really for the reason you think, Sunshine,” I tell him, holding him even closer to me because what I’m about to admit is definitely not easy. “It means that I allowed myself to continuously be used. Basically, I was reinforcing every negative thought I’ve ever had about myself in the earlier days when I was just beginning to understand who I am. I was taking in what Jack and Joan thought of me and just applying it to Michael and Deb, to make it somewhat palatable, instead of turning around and leaving Michael to flounder on his own. I was reinforcing the abuse. But because it was coming from people who I thought loved me, I was too blind to see it. Me, who was nicknamed the most selfish asshole on the planet, was doing the biggest disservice to himself. That’s why I feel guilty, Sunshine.”

“Brian, you are the most giving person I know. They were the assholes for taking advantage of your generous nature. So you have nothing to be guilty about, except for loving them unconditionally and expecting the same in return. But it was conditional based on what you could do for them, and that’s their fault, not yours. It makes them worse than the most flawed human beings and the worst kind of manipulators. Their life choices- and it is just that, a LIFE CHOICE- are not your fault.”

I swallowed hard before I say, “We’d better get up. Ted and Cyn will be here shortly and we have a lot to cover today if we’re going to be ready for Remson tomorrow. The boards we came up with are great, but there is something missing.”

“Perhaps we should ask Ben and Vic. They will probably have a unique perspective on it. And honestly, what can it hurt to have two people who have been on these kinds of trials give their opinions of how the process and drugs are? We could be known as the company to actually sell products, not bullshit.”

I’m always amazed at Justin’s ability to know when to drop a subject that I don’t want to talk about anymore. He transitions smoothly, and doesn’t push. Instead, he drops these little nuggets of wisdom in an area that’s bound to get me thinking of the bigger picture, in this case, work. It’s where I am most comfortable besides a backroom, and he knows that. In fact, he honors it.

After our shower and a fairly light breakfast of a french toast bagel and an egg white omelet with whole wheat toast, we took the elevator one floor down to the loft right below our living space. Part of me dreads having the construction guys cut into the hardwood flooring in the upstairs loft to connect down here, but not only is it necessary, it will also be convenient. After the office space is completed, Justin and I will have made a nice size home for the two of us. Sure the loft has been great to us, but at it’s base, it was my fuckpad. Adding to the current loft to include the new space will make a huge statement that it is no longer me, myself, and I but ‘we’, ‘our’ and ‘us’. It’s been three- almost four- years in the making, but I finally feel ready to take that step. And the most shocking of all is that I’m actually leading Justin willingly, and not the other way around. Talk about a major change!

In retrospect, perhaps I should send the fiddler a ‘thank you’ card. Had he not showed Justin that all that hearts and flower nonsense was bullshit by fucking up and going back on his word, Justin wouldn’t have realized that although I couldn’t say the words he longed to hear, I truly did, and do, love him totally, unconditionally, and no longer with any reservations. I can honestly say that I wished the fiddler episode of our lives never happened, but it was a necessary evil to get us to where are now. So I can give at least give his dumb ass some credit for showing Justin that hearts and flowers mean nothing without the actions to back up the implied promises. But that’s enough thinking about him. It’s time to get to work and make mine and Justin’s dreams come true. We’ve earned them!

LINDSAY:

Well, after I had to humble myself in order to be able to stay with Lynette for the last few days, I figured that Mel would have calmed down by now. It was most humiliating to find out that my parents were out of town and therefore could not put me up as I’d expected. I mean, couldn’t they have had the decency to let me know they would be in Europe for the next month? They call me for everything else, especially wanting to rub my face in Lynette’s newest acquisitions (ie. her current husband), but they couldn’t be bothered to let me know that they would be unavailable to help me with my current situations. When I told Lynette of this latest lover’s spat with Mel, do you know what she said? She told me that they had already known that I was playing fast and loose with Sam, which was the reason for Mother and Daddy’s latest trip. They didn’t want to be the place I ran to after the fallout. How insensitive!

So now I’m here at the house, trying to get back into Mel’s good graces. I know I’ll have to apologize and play the weak little misguided miss like I’ve always done in the past before she’ll even think to be reasonable. Then of course, I’ll make my affair out to be her fault for not paying attention to me and all will be forgiven once again. After that, she and I can talk about limiting Brian’s access to Gus. I’m not happy with the way things are, where I have almost no access to the finances he bestows on my son for his care. It’s just not right that he and Mel have all the power to make decisions while I did, and still do, all the work including pushing him out! There must be some changes immediately.

Placing my key in the door, I decide that the best way to make that happen is to have a nice home-cooked meal waiting for her when she gets home. I can remember every look of disappointment on her face when I was simply too tired to do that small thing for her. Of course, I’ll be serving it in my new negligee set, equipped with the matching silk bra and panties, that Sam bought for me. It should still be tucked in the back of my closet, hidden away from Mel. She’ll think that I bought it specifically to surprise her, and you know… what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. It’s the perfect outfit to get her to come around to my way of thinking, which is that she and I need to exhibit a united front while dealing with Brian on my behalf… oh and Gus’.

With a solid plan of action in mind, I am surprised that when I turn the key, nothing happens. I try again, suddenly remembering that we were supposed to oil the lock but never got around to it. The loud snap inside the lock caught my attention, and when I draw the key back, it’s only a fucking nub! I do the only thing I can in this moment, and call Mel.

“Hello, Lindsay.”

“Mel! We forgot to oil the lock and it has now eaten my key. Are you at the office so I can swing by and get yours until I can get mine fixed?”

She actually laughs at me, and I become even more irritated. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten what was said the other day about you not being welcomed there any longer, Lindsay. So allow me to refresh your memory. You are out. You will not be given a key to MY house. All of your belongings including the nice gift wrapped box of lacy, racy, red undergarments have been moved to a storage unit across town, nearer to your parents’ house. I hope you wear them in good health, and may you fuck yourself to death. In the meantime, you might want to talk to your sister since our attorneys have forwarded you some important paperwork. Have a nice life, Lindsay!”

She hung up? The bitch actually hung up on me!! Oh, now the gloves will come off, and every dirty little secret in Miss Melanie Marcus’ career is going to be on full blast. Even as I’m thinking this, the click and flash of a camera from the left rosebush captures me.

“Ms. Peterson, is it true that you’re involved with bad boy artist Samuel Auerbach?” one reporter yells out as the clicks and flashes continue.

“How do you feel about being named as his paid courtesan in the lawsuit being filed against you by his wife, Amanda Auerbach?”

As question after insidious question is fired at me, I run to my car where I am greeted by a tall man that I’ve not seen before. I don’t even have the chance to ask who he is before he tells me, ‘Lindsay Peterson, you’ve been served,” and he disappears into the crowd of reporters still crowding me, wanting answers. I get into my car and start the engine, but the wolves are not letting up. I can’t help the tears of anger and humiliation leaking down my face, even knowing that my mascara is running and leaving ugly tracks resembling skid marks. To be called a whore in private is one thing, but to be actually named in the Alienation of Affection lawsuit publicly is another thing altogether. Sure, I considered Sam my ticket into the A-list of the art world, and I was willing to do whatever it took to get there. But I never counted on this! It could mean that everything I’ve worked so hard for...

Oh fuck! I have to get to Sydney and spin this before it hits the evening papers.

DALE:

Oh shit! I can’t believe they did this shit. I check the figures Ted sent me against the records showing on my computer and I seriously cannot believe this wasn’t caught by anyone years ago. Fucking YEARS! If there are three things I hate in this world, it’s liars, cheaters, and thieves. And apparently the Novotnys are all three… but there is just one problem. They aren’t the only ones. Researching the odd ball denominator in this equation, I can see exactly why. She’s going to raise all sorts of unholy hell for Brian and Justin. I have to get to the loft...NOW!

CHAPTER 15: RETROSPECTIVE CLARITY Part 2

MICHAEL:

I can’t believe that I’m back here again. I know Pittsburgh is supposed to be my home, but like Brian, I’m just ready to get the fuck out of here. Some time ago, I realized that my problem wasn’t in moving to a new city; it was moving there without Brian. David was okay, but being without the man who I want to spend my future with was unbearable. Me being with Ben was different, because unlike David who was completely healthy, Ben has an expiration date. True, people with the virus are living longer now, but the fact still remains that there is something inside of him that can take him out at any moment. So to my mind, not wanting to wait until Ben dies is actually the humane thing to do. By moving Brian and I out of here, both Ben and that rat-bastard Boy Wonder, can actually find lives of their own. But before I can get Brian to see the wisdom and compassion in my plan, I have to get him to forgive me.

The headgames over the years weren’t exactly my idea, although I reaped the benefits of them often enough. They were hers. I’ll never figure out just how their love-hate relationship works. True, Claire was a mean, spiteful, and honestly, lazy little shit, but she was just as smart as Brian. In fact, she taught me all the tricks to get Brian to do my homework, including the veiled threats that would make him comply in order to avoid Jack’s fists. But most of all, she’s taught me how to capitalize on everything I know about Brian without meaning to. After all, I’ve been buying her silence for some sixteen years now,. Yes, I used some of Brian’s money to do it, but it still came from my hand, so it counts. Between Claire, and Lindsay’s advice and examples, I’ve been able to get Brian and myself a nice house in California, and set up a healthy nest egg where coupled with the sale of the store and all the items in it, I should be able to support Brian and me for the rest of our lives without a problem.

Of course, there will be some ground rules, like no fucking tricking! I’m so tired of having to get rid of everyone after he’s fucked them, or telling the ones who think they actually have a chance with Brian that they don’t. The only one that it didn’t work on was that hard-headed, snot-nosed, seventeen year old. I’m still pissed at Ethan for doing whatever he did to fuck up, although knowing Justin, he was just looking for a reason to get back into Brian’s bed. I mean, Brian is the best… well, so I’ve heard, but that’s beside the point. I plan on finding out for myself soon enough. I can’t help but think back to that episode in the comic shop some months ago. I know now that I shouldn’t have stopped him; that I should have taken what I could of him and let the chips fall where they may. It’s my one regret, since he was primed and ready for me to take us to the next level. It’s time we do that.

I get to the loft, intent on interrupting whatever Boy Wonder is doing to Brian. He’s had enough time to blow him during the time I’ve been away. It’s my turn now. I want to surprise Brian with my return so he doesn’t have a chance to escape the tongue lashing I want to give him before he kisses me and we make up as we always do. So, taking out my key, I place it into the lock… and nothing happens. All I can think is Who the hell fucked up now that has caused the lock to be changed?! I huff as now I have to ring the buzzer for the Super.

“Yeah?”

“A simple hello would have done nicely, but anyway, can you let me into the building?” I answer.

“Unless you live here, or know someone in the building who actually answers their buzzer, then no I can’t. New boss’ rules.”

What the fuck is going on? I turn on the charm… well as much as I am able to anyway. I’m tired and it’s been a long night since I took the red eye to get here by this morning. “Can you open the door, please? I’m here to visit my best friend, Brian Kinney, and I’m just coming in from the airport.”

“Ah, I thought I recognized the voice,” he says, with a hint of sarcasm that I just don’t have time or patience to address right now. But I will as soon as I get Brian to lodge a formal complaint against the asshole. “Again, Mr. Novotny, there is to be no admittance without a tenant's express approval.”

“Well all of that can be solved if you would call him and tell him I’m down here.”

“Can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s against the new policy.”

“Well let me speak to your boss then. I’m sure he will be a lot more reasonable than you.”

“I doubt she would. You see, she doesn’t like you. In fact, I think if she had her choice between allowing roaches to inhabit her building, and allowing you in for any length of time, I’m almost sure she would happily usher in the critters. At least, they would be far more manageable and polite than you are.”

“Hey! That’s… you know what! Let me have the name of your boss. I want to file a complaint right now!” I yell. I can’t believe how rude some people with a little power are.

“Sure. Her name is Jennifer Taylor. Would you like to write that down or perhaps I can direct you to the nearest precinct, since technically you are trespassing. If Mr. Kinney were even remotely inclined to grant you entrance, she would still have veto power. It goes the same way for all tenants and has been added as a clause to their new leases. Since it was a welcome change and voted on unanimously by the tenant’s association, you really have no legal recourse, Mr. Novotny. I suggest you leave now. You don’t have to go home, but you do have to get the hell out of here! Good day to you!” The super disconnects the intercom. I try again and again, but he refuses to pick up.

“I’m so fucking fucked off!” I scream to no one in particular, even though people are looking at me as if I’ve grown another head.

I don’t even give a fuck anymore, and I really can’t believe Jennifer had the nerve to ban me! But maybe Ma can get in there where I no longer can. I probably should see her anyway though since she and I have things to discuss. Like the fact that I need the money to pay Lance back for getting me back to Pittsburgh. Sure I have the money in my account, but that’s earmarked for Brian and I to start our new life; I won’t touch it unless it’s absolutely necessary.

In fact, I should tell her I need a little bit more, since apparently I also have to pay Mel the five hundred back for fixing Brian’s car, although I really don’t see why since he’s sold it anyway. But I’m between a rock and a hard place there because she’s an attorney who can take me to small claims court where I’d end up having to pay the money back regardless. The last thing I need is a judge questioning why I didn’t pay it back when I had the money. There’s no telling what else will come out if they investigate. So I’ll ask Ma.

By virtue of her womb, she owes it to me to take care of me, and it includes getting Mel off my back.

I leave the loft, looking longingly at the entrance that just opened. But I still can’t go in there. The fucking Super is standing there watching me as if to make sure I’m leaving. I beat a hasty retreat when he picks up his cell phone, presumably to call the cops on me. It’s clear that no one would come to my rescue, especially in lieu of what Hunter might have told them.

I really need to find out what they know, so maybe I’ll head to the apartment first. Better to find out what that little shit told Ma before I outright lie to her to get what I want. Claire told me that when lying and scheming, it’s better to stick to the truth as much as possible. I’ve become an expert at it where Ma is concerned. I only tell her what I want her to know, then let her draw her own conclusions.

She’s really good for that, and it’s worked like a charm so far. I wait until I’m around the corner to hail a cab, laughing to myself and wondering how long that stupid super is going to be out there waiting for me to come back. Well let him do that, I have other fish to fry right now. And that begins with a skinny, nondescript hustler with a big fucking mouth. It’s time Ben makes a choice.

It’s either Hunter or me! If I were him, I would bet on the sure thing, which is me… Well that’s at least true until I can finally get Brian. I spend the rest of the time in the cab daydreaming about my impending victory over Boy Wonder, and finally having the man of my dreams.   

CYNTHIA:

Watching Brian and Justin move around today is hilarious. I don’t know what’s been happening between them for the last week, although I have my suspicions. I have noticed that with the amount of hours we’ve been working, trying to get Kinnetik up and running at full speed, neither have had the time, energy, or inclination to go out partying. I suppose that’s a good thing since each of them seem to be even more driven and focused than I’ve ever seen them. But there is also something different about them that I can’t quite put my finger on.

I remember the day after Brian met Justin. At the oddest times, I would catch him smiling to himself. Sure, he fucked the client, which always made him relax and laugh afterwards, but this was different. I asked him what had happened the night before, and he told me that Gus was born. Which at the time, I supposed would have put him over the moon.

However, that wasn’t it either. He had a look of wonder in his eyes- of infatuation- so prevalent that it was often remarked on in whispers during the day. He didn’t yell even once! It was only after the call from Michael that things took a turn. The next day, he was even worse than the mean and surly perfectionist he always was.

I later found out that because of the phone call from Michael, warning him against remaining involved with a specific young man, Brian followed the selfish edicts of his best friend and once again denied his own happiness. A week later, though, I found out just who Justin Taylor was. I was especially surprised when Brian told me that no matter what he was doing with the exception of being trapped in a meeting, Justin was to be automatically put through; a privilege that neither Michael nor Lindsay ever had, even though they wished they did. It’s the precise moment that I knew Justin was special. And although Brian and Justin had their issues in the beginning, it was also noted that he smiled and laughed a lot more, even if the asshole persona was still front and center.

I think what struck me the most about their dynamic was the fact that just hearing Justin’s voice made Brian think before he lashed out. It was vastly different from how the phone calls with Michael, Lindsay, and Debbie would go. Usually Brian would end the call even more frustrated than when he accepted the call in the first place. So much so that on several occasions I’ve thought of threatening Brian with quitting unless he stopped the repetitive harassment of the both of us. I never did it, but still.

It had gotten to the point where I dreaded doing the job I was paid to do as Brian’s assistant since it also required me to answer the damn phones. However with Justin’s calls, it was different; almost like he had the uncanny ability to know the exact moment when Brian was ready to explode. So the bottom line is that Justin is good for Brian, and vice versa. He keeps Brian young at heart, but it’s also more than that. I’ve known Brian for more than ten years, and it’s more like he’s been given a chance at a do-over.

He’s been given a chance to learn from the mistakes he’s made; to, at last, celebrate all of his accomplishments… to have something that is solely for him.

So I’ll do whatever I have to do to help them preserve what they have found with each other. Yes, they’ve both made their share of mistakes, and had their share of traumas because of them. But at the end of the day, whether certain idiots liked it or not, they made them together. And now that they have finally made things right between them, I know they are playing for keeps. I also know that it can’t hurt to have a little back-up in the form of a little 5’2 package with many years of axes to grind.

I’ve been storing up my arsenal of grievances against all of them for such a time as this… the time when Brian would finally wake up from his guilt-induced coma. In fact, I’ve already started. “Um, Brian, I need to tell you something. First off, I’m not apologizing or asking for your forgiveness…”

“What would you need to be forgiven for?” Brian shrugs at me. “Besides, you and I have never required that from each other.”

“Yes, that’s true, but this time you might feel that I’ve overstepped. In fact, all of you might feel that way.”

“Well?”

“Okay, so here’s the thing. I know a certain lady who asked me the name of someone we all know…”

“Cyn, you’re rambling.”

“I’m well aware of that, thanks!” I say as I take a calming breath. It’s one thing to help Brian without his knowledge, but it’s another thing entirely for him to know what you’re up to while planning the demise of one of the people he considers family. Well here it goes… “I was at a function the other night, and saw my old classmate Amanda. She was there checking after her wayward husband and his latest floozy. She finally decided to file for divorce from the scruffy bastard, which if you ask me, it’s been a long time coming since it really shouldn’t have happened in the first place. But you know how it is when you’re young, dumb and full of cum…”

Brian burst out laughing, along with Justin and Ted, who I hadn’t realized re-entered the loft. “Where the hell do you get these sayings, Cyn?”

“You’d be surprised. But anyway, she asked me if I knew the heifer clinging onto her husband like a second skin until they left the building. So I gave her the name of Lindsay Anne Peterson.”

“You did what?”

“I told her who she was, and no I don’t regret it, especially since it yielded the desired results.”

“What do you mean?” Justin asks me.

“I mean that even as we speak, there is no place for Lindsay to run or hide now that she’s been found out. So Bitchy Brenda the Bad Witch of Homo Oz will undoubtedly be very busy slipping and sliding, and peeping and hiding away from the press. And best of all, her parents are on an extended tour of Europe so she can’t stay there, or use their clout to save her.”

All three men are looking at me as if I have just grown another set of tits. I don’t exactly know if I should find it hilarious or insulting at this point. As they continue to stare, the door to the loft opens and in runs Melanie and another gentleman that I don’t know. The fact that they are laughing and talking as if they are old friends tells me a lot. But it’s the fact that Ted actually looks frozen that tells me even more.

“Hey, Cyn. Guys, I’d like to introduce you all to an old friend of mine and Ted’s. This is Dale Wexler, who we went to school with a million years ago. Imagine my surprise when I found him wandering around downstairs.”

Justin crosses the room over to him with his hand extended. I always get a kick out of his WASPy manners when I know the real Justin underneath all the good manners. It’s not that he’s a phony, but that he’s completely honest in his actions and reactions to situations. He can be just as impulsive as Brian, but with a cold, calculating glint in his eyes that people rarely ever see. For all his innocent looks, that look of razor-sharp intelligence, a sense of self, and the ability to see the core person underneath is something people miss. He’d lost that for a while after the bashing, but now that it’s returned, it’s back in full force. It’s hard to resist watching him in action.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says smoothly.

“Finally?” Dale asks.

“Yes. I heard about you long before now, only in a very different capacity. I was babysitting the night you appeared at Babylon some years ago. I would have loved to see you in action,” Justin answers with a million dollar smile in place.

“Down boy,” Brian laughs. “No flirting, Sunshine. Save all of that for me.”

“Oh don’t worry, Brian. It is.” Justin waggles his eyebrows, even while engaging in a silent conversation with the man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Brian blush before, but it’s on full display right now. Yes, there is definitely something that has changed between them… and it’s good!

Dale laughs. “Brian, you sure have your hands full with this one. Don’t change a thing.” He shakes hands with Justin first, and then Brian, before reaching out for Ted, who he kisses firmly on the mouth. “How are you, my little fish?”

Ted leans into him, wrapping his arms tightly around him in an embrace. Usually Ted is conservative, and standoffish. At least, he has always been anytime I’ve seen him prior to his absence. But seeing him with Dale is very eye-opening to the Ted Schmidt that he’s apparently always kept so carefully hidden.

“I’m well, Master. But for the sake of everyone here, why don’t we do away with the formalities… for now? I would hate to shock them.” Ted laughs.

“Very well, Ted. But seriously, how are you?” He looks at Ted closely, taking in his appearance, and the clarity within his eyes. “No more, right?”

“More like never again. I promise.”

“Good. You deserve the best, Ted, and it all starts with you. Remember that, okay?”

“I will, and thanks Dale… for everything.”

None of us are sure what everything entails, but apparently Dale knows. He reaches out to hug him again. “We’ll always be friends, Ted. Next time, if there is one, come to me. Now let’s get to the reason I am here, shall we?”

“Before we get to that, does anyone want coffee?” Justin asks, already moving towards the kitchen area. “I have a feeling we’re going to need the fortification.”

After we all assent, and Justin has finished, we settle into the sitting area we have dubbed as our conference room. I can’t wait for the office to be finished. This has worked well so far, but I know Brian. He hates clutter, and since we began working on Kinnetik, word has somehow miraculously gotten around to some of our former clients and they have been calling. The meeting with Remson is scheduled for tomorrow at Vanguard, and Melanie is still putting the screws to Vance. With any luck, the office can be finished by the beginning of next week. It’s already a given that we’re going to need the space, and the extra hands.

Dale begins. “So, Ted called me this morning about the situation with you, Brian, and Justin. I’m glad Mel is here because perhaps she can answer some questions for me from a legal point of view. It seems that Debbie’s mortgage has been being paid, along with the mortgage on two other houses. One is in Palm Springs, California, while the two are right here in Pittsburgh. Does the name Claire Kinney mean anything to any of you?”

“She’s my sister, who I can’t stand. Trust me when I say the feeling is entirely mutual. But what has she got to do with all of this?” Brian asks.

“The house she lives in is in Debbie’s name.”

“How is that possible? As I understand it, the mortgage was transferred into her name some years ago right before her husband abandoned her and the devil’s spawn she calls her sons. I’ve been giving her money to pay it… or at least I was until I lost my job at Vanguard.”

“That’s the thing, Brian. You haven’t been.” Dale hands out some packets he’d taken out of his briefcase. “As you can see, I was also able to make copies of the cancelled checks and have listed them in date order for your convenience. The first packet is for the house that Debbie owns and lives in on Sycamore Lane. The second packet is for the property in her name in Palm Springs, but the third…”

“1875 Cherry Street is Claire’s address. That son of a bitch has been paying your sister’s mortgage, Brian,” Justin says, darkly. “What the hell does she have over him to make him do that?”

“Oh fuck!” Melanie exclaims.

“What? What is it?”

“Your nephew, John, Brian. I heard Lindsay and Michael talking about him at the house one day, not long before you were falsely accused of molesting him. It was back when we were still considering having another child. Anyway, Michael mentioned that you were babysitting John for Claire and had brought him into the comic shop.”

“Yeah, I did. But what’s this got to do…”

“Let me finish, Brian. Michael asked me if there was a legal way to turn the tables on someone who was blackmailing someone else. I told him he would have to have proof of the blackmail before filing a police report for the person to be taken in and questioned. He said that it had been going on for almost a decade. When I asked him what it was about, he evaded the truth as usual. So, since Michael has been paying her mortgage, all of the money you have been giving her could be seen as gifts. You could sue for the money back, but you won’t win there. In Michael’s case however…”

Dale smiled. “If you will all turn to page five of the packet, you’ll see how you can recoup the money while naming her as an accomplice. Thanks to Ted, I have included copies of your transaction history in terms of the amounts you have given to Michael Novotny. On the checks he’s written to Claire, in the memo section it specifically says ‘mortgage’. Then on page six are the checks Brian has written to Claire. Tell me what you see in the ‘memo’ section.”

“Mortgage,” Justin gasps.

“Exactly. But upon further digging, it turns out that Claire has two very bad habits that she has kept rather well-hidden. Well three, if you include blackmail into the mix. She’s a sex addict, and a high-stakes gambler who is currently on a losing streak a city-block wide, and has been for past several years. I talked to a PI friend of mine, and he uncovered that her habits are the reason that Townsend left her. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to convince the judge that their sons should live with him, which is part of the reason he stopped paying child support. Although he’s still keeping up their insurance and sends them care packages several times per month. He simply refuses to allow any of the money he makes to enter her hand. She lost her job two years ago and has been pissing away the money you give her since Michael has not only been using your money to pay her mortgage, but also the utilities and other necessary bills to keep Child Services from her door. When was the first time Michael borrowed money from you with the promise of paying it back, Brian?”

“Since we were almost seventeen years old. I was working at a mechanic shop back then as the assistant to the owner. Plus I was working on getting a scholarship to college, so I wasn’t really paying much attention to him. He kept badgering me for a loan for some bullshit or another. At the time, I lent him the money just to shut him up so that I could get back to designing my future.”

“She must have started back then,” Mel whispered. When Brian asks her to say it again, she did. “Hear me out, Brian. When Michael was asking those questions, he mentioned that he was in debt to her. He said that he was doing something at the time that would ruin his friendship with you, even though it wasn’t illegal.”

“Brian…” Justin closes his eyes and when he opens them, all I see is anger. “Your car, and the money, and the…”

“Broken ribs, I know,” Brian whispers.

“What?” I ask because I am genuinely confused about what those things have to do with this situation.

“Michael must have told my father about the job, and the car my boss loaned me to use while I was working for him; the money I hid in my room so that if my scholarship plans fell through, I would still at least be able to go to college part-time. The only people who knew about it were Vic, and later Debbie. My only guess is that Michael overheard and told my father, which in turn Claire overheard and began to threaten Michael. It’s the only scenario that makes sense.”

“What happened?” Mel asks. I can tell he dreads giving the answer, but in order to put all these pieces together, we all need full disclosure.

“I arrived home one night to find Jack sitting in the dark, waiting for me. Joan and Claire were somewhere else- probably church, knowing my mother as I do. Jack started yelling at me about my pansy, fancy plans to be better than him. He ordered me to quit my job, and told me not to bother looking for the money I’d stashed away. It was already spent for my room and board, which meant it was used to restock his beer and mother’s scotch collection. He and I had a fight… well really, he punched me and kicked me repeatedly in the ribs, determined that I would have to sit out for the rest of the season. Somehow, he found out that the game where a recruiter for Carnegie Mellon’s soccer team was coming to see me the next day, and it would make or break my dreams of a scholarship. He said that if I had time to work then I had time to work with him at the steel mills, since that was the only thing I should aspire to. It was his legacy, after all, and no son of his would embarrass him by becoming better than what was expected. Other men’s sons had carried on their legacy, so why should I think I was better than they all were? After he left me on the living room floor bleeding, I escaped to Deb’s house. Only Vic and Michael were there. Vic is the one who took me to the hospital while Michael tagged along. I didn’t register it then, but now I know what the secret smiles and daydreaming was about. Whenever he was spoken to, or asked a question, it had to be repeated several times before an answer would be given.”

“How is that any different than normal?” Justin says, sardonically.

“I would imagine that it would have been because Michael is usually hyper-focused where Brian is concerned,” Ted says as Melanie and I nod. “I don’t know how many times I’ve heard him say that anything to do with Brian is his business.”

“Ah, yes. It’s usually followed by he’s my best friend! How could I miss that?” Justin rolls his eyes. “So now the question remains, when do we confront him? And Debbie? She’s soooo not going to remain blameless in all of this!”

“The meeting to Remson is tomorrow, so I say let’s wait until we have that account in the bag. Also, if we get the account, we can put a rush on having the offices finished sooner, including Mel’s. I wouldn’t want you guys to have to do it here,” I tell them. “Besides, Michael isn’t allowed in the building, and once your mother gets wind of all this new information, I’m pretty sure Debbie is next on her banned list.”

“My mother?”

“Oh yes. Did Mel and I forget to mention that she owns the building as of last week?”

“You knew?” Justin asks Brian, as the latter snickers.

“No. I’m just learning this as are you, Sunshine. But I mean, are we really surprised at this point? You had to have received your penchant for subterfuge from somewhere, and I’m sure your sperm donor wasn’t it. But your mother has that same look of innocence about her where no one would ever suspect a bitchy bone in her body. It makes sense that she would do all she can to protect you.”

“Us.”

“Us?”

“Yes, Brian. Us. My mother may have had her issues with you in the past but you’ve proven yourself in more ways than one. She wouldn’t, at this juncture, protect me while forgetting about you. It’s just not her way.”

“So we wait for all of the other information to come in as well,” Mel interjects. “The files should be ready by then to confront Michael and Deb with all of their perfidy. I also think we may have to include Lindsay in this.”

“Why?” Brian asks.

“Because this has her hand all over it. Not from the beginning, but in very specific parts, like owning a property across the country. The thing I can’t figure out is why she would even suggest that to Michael unless…”

“An absentee parent, who happens to live out of state, would be more apt to give more in child support?” Ted asks.

“Which would make sense if Gus was born at the time Deb had Michael buy the house,” I say.

“It’s all in the planning, Cyn,” Justin tells me. “WASPs are born organizers, even if some of us rarely do it. Lindsay would have been planning Gus’ birth from the time she slept with Brian, only it didn’t work out the way she might have hoped.”

“You think she was planning to get accidentally pregnant the night of Midsummer Madness?” Brian asks.

“Indeed, I do. What better way to have you fulfill your husbandly duties when she knew that marrying her would be out of the question for you, regardless of her upbringing? I hate to say this, but the fact that she’s been living as a lesbian for the past ten plus years is purely incidental. She still got what she wanted, which was your child, Brian. Having Melanie was just the added bonus.” Justin sits back, looking smug. And I have to admit that it’s with good reason that he does. Oh how I wish they had met Justin YEARS ago! He could have saved them all so much heartache by seeing Lindsay’s deception straight away.

“So Saturday?” Brian asks.

“Definitely!” Mel concurs. “Saturday is ‘splatterday’!”

If I was Michael, Lindsay, and Deb, I would be looking for a place to run and hide right now. But then again, roaches scatter when the light is shone on them. I find myself humming the chorus to ‘Nowhere to Run” by Martha and the Vandellas, which was a favorite of my mother’s whenever I was in trouble as a kid. Saturday really can’t come soon enough for me.

CHAPTER 16: TAKEOVERS AND CLAUSES

JUSTIN:

“Oh God, right there… Jus… right… don’t leave… stay… YES!”

That’s right. I’m tearing his ass up, and with good reason. All day and all night long he’s been teasing me, beginning with telling me how he and Dale met. Between the two of them, they gave me a blow-by-blow of Dale’s performance at the Leather Ball. Then they traded stories of their forays into different BDSM clubs around the globe.

I still want to visit Nonny’s in NYC as a spectator. Brian introduced me to Meat Hook for my eighteenth birthday, but according to both of them Nonny’s is much more intense. I suppose I should have expected that living vicariously through Brian’s memories would leave me restless throughout the night. The images of me in every possible position, both taking what I want and being taken how I needed, kept me on the edge of orgasm. The dreams themselves were exhausting and exhilarating by turns.

So by the time Brian woke up this morning, I was already on ten and just about at the point of no return. Finding him sleeping on his stomach, which he rarely does, gave me license to pounce. And that’s what I did, and will continue to do until I hear him screaming my fucking name!

“Come on, Brian. Push back harder on my dick. Give it to me!” I demand as I push forcefully into him, holding his shoulders and using them as leverage. Instead, he tries to unman me by squeezing his sphincter extra tight. I slap his ass and change the angle, passing directly over his prostate. As he gasps, I smile. I do it again and croon, “Oh… you liked that, didn’t you?”

“Fuck yeah!” Brian yells as I thrust into him again and again.

“I’ll never get enough of you. And after I’m finished, it’s your turn, Brian. I want you to fuck me til I can’t remember my name; so hard that every time I even think of sitting down, I have second thoughts…”

And those words were all it took to have us both trembling uncontrollably, reaching that point of nirvana which we have only ever found with each other. Dismounting as carefully as I can, I first dispose of the nearly-full condom into the trash bin by the bed, then kiss Brian’s back while my hands untie his and travel down his back. Massaging his muscles gently, I relish the small sigh of bliss escaping him as he lays there boneless. Being able to take care of him like this is one of the most transcendent experiences I’ve ever had. It means everything that he trusts me implicitly, even in these small actions, especially since he keeps finding out just how much he has been betrayed by those who continually drilled into his head how much they loved him.

But the one thing they’ve apparently never learned about Brian is that he not only lives by the motto that actions speak louder than words, he breathes it. And their actions have told Brian- told US- a very different story.

“We have a very big day ahead of us, Sunshine. If you keep this up, I swear I’ll sleepwalk right through it.”

“That may not be such a bad thing,” I whisper in his ear as I keep up the feather-light touches.

“Nope. I want to be wide awake as I watch that fucker’s demise at our hands.”

“Well you always did say that together we are unstoppable.”

“I did? When?”

“The first time was the night I decided I wasn’t going to Dartmouth. And then there was the week before the GLC Carnivale when I came to show you the final cut of the poster. And of course there’s the taking down of Stockwell. It’s something you’ve seemed to always know, but that was the time you really believed it.”

“And with good reason. It was and still is the truth. After we get this account today, we’re going to be big fat fucking successes.”

“You really believe that?”

“Hell yeah, I do. The one thing they have done that was a huge mistake on their part is that they thought us down for the count. And for a little while, we were, I admit. But the thing no one ever seems to realize is that we never run from a fight. It’s just who we are as men, and now as a couple. As I look back on it now, we didn’t run from the bullshit with your father, we didn’t against Hobbs and during your healing process… We don’t allow each other to bury our heads in the sand while waiting for a brighter fucking day. We make shit happen. That’s who the fuck we are, Sunshine.”

“Sometimes you have to sacrifice everything for what you believe in.”

“Exactly! Only this time we’ve sacrificed e-fucking-nough. It’s time to take back what they have temporarily been holding hostage from us. You ready?”

I look into the hazel eyes I know and love so well. The belief in us is so clear that it nearly takes my breath away. But it’s the light of battle, swirling in their depths, that has me smiling back at the man I love more and more with each inhale and exhale I take. “Let’s go.”

It’s time to put on that fuck’em all and fuck you too persona that has always kept Brian and I together in one way or another since the night we met. Despite everything that’s happened over the past three years, it’s also the attitude we have which keeps us as royalty within our little kingdom… and something Gardner Vance is not prepared for, but is about to learn, albeit too late for his own fucking good. I can’t wait!

MELANIE

As I am sitting here having breakfast in this big empty house, I find myself a bundle of nerves. Gus has spent the night with Jennifer so that I didn’t have to trouble Dusty and Marie again, nor drive all the way across town this morning to drop him off. I still can’t believe the information that I obtained in reference to Lindsay last night. At tomorrow’s conference, she’s going to be in for a huge surprise. But right now, I have to concentrate on the meeting that is either going to make or break Kinnetik.

I was surprised when Justin asked me to accompany them today. It’s not that I wouldn’t have wanted to watch them wipe the floor with that bald fucker. Who the hell wouldn’t want to watch justice being served on a very personal level, whether within the confines of the law or not? But it was the reason for Justin’s request that shocked me. Underneath all that blond is a fucking genius.

So I’m sitting here, going over a revised contract that he’s drawn up… HIM! Justin Taylor, who never went to law school, but managed to get every fucking thing right and airtight. Even things that most corporate lawyers tend to overlook in their familiarity and arrogance. And I have to say it’s fucking good.

He looked at Brian’s original contract with Ryder, and the contract Brian had with Vanguard before he became a partner. Both were violated in every conceivable fashion. It’s funny, but I never even considered looking at the Ryder contract, thinking that the terms of that contract were null and void. But Justin did, and found the missing piece to the Vance puzzle that was sure to put the nail in his proverbial coffin. Clearing the breakfast dishes, and putting them into the dishwasher, I grab up the contract and place it into my briefcase.

I need to make all of it official, so I’m going to have Janice type it all up before heading to Vanguard to watch the fireworks. The fact that I get to actually participate in some capacity as Brian and Justin’s personal attorney will be an added bonus. I love handing powerful men their asses while they are kissing my own. This day is going to be so much fun!

BRIAN:

Fuck! I know I’m sporting a woody the size of Texas right now. I always get this way in anticipation of the chase ahead. Justin and I sat in the car as we watched John Remson and his staff enter the building a half an hour ago. We figured we’d give Gardner the benefit of presenting the original campaign I did, knowing now that it was ineffective.

Sure it was brilliantly convincing for what it was. Take a pill, and immediately you're back on top; easy peasy, right? However, I’d only had a series of preconceived notions to go by back then. Speaking with Vic and Ben put things in a very different light regarding my thoughts on HIV/AIDS medications in general. The conversation was so candid, and educational; very enlightening in ways I never would have thought it could be.

I’m glad Justin came up with the idea to include them.

“How much longer do you think we should give him to fuck up?” Justin asks me. He has that particular mercenary gleam in his eye that I have come to love. It used to make me a bit apprehensive, but since his plotting was never really directed towards me, I’ve learned to relax when seeing it.

“Only a few more minutes. Cynthia just arrived after getting what I asked her to pick up.”

“What was that?”

“Finger foods from Em. Since we are going to crash Vance’s party, I figured we should do it in style. Plus it will also help Vic drum up business for HoneyGrass Elegant Creations.”

“And you call me the brilliant one?” He shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes.

God, he’s beautiful with his sparkling and predatory eyes. He’s irresistible on so many levels as it is, but sitting across from me in that suit… Well, gone was the boy I met three years ago, and in his place is a self-assured man. If John Remson is gay, seeing Justin is going to have him cumming in his pants. But then again, even if he isn’t, he’ll do it anyway.

Justin is more than enough to make any man take a second, third, fourth, and fifth look while wondering how easy it would be to have a piece of him. But the worst thing they can ever do is underestimate him. It’s something I learned not to do in some very hard ways.

Seeing Cynthia walking towards our car, I smile. “Let’s go, Sunshine. It’s showtime.”

In addition to Cyn, Ted and Mel join us along with our two very special guests. After our strategy and planning stage, we figured that having Vic and Ben in the meeting to dispel the myths Vance is putting forth would give more of an added impact for Remson’s edification. Food for thought is always good, but we don’t have time to spoon feed John Remson into our way of thinking. Besides, Justin and I, and therefore our team, are more in-your-face people. So cramming the information down his throat when faced with the same type of people he’s trying to help is definitely the way to go.

Bypassing security based on the fact that they still respect me, we reach the fourth floor in no time. It also helps that Cynthia thought ahead and bought pastries for them to consume while we were fucking up Vance’s day. Justin decides to open the portfolio containing the boards. At my questioning look, he smiles as he takes them out of their case.

“So we don’t waste time with the production… I don’t want Vance to even have one second to regroup. Instead, I want Remson to see him scrambling.”

“He’s right, Brian. Gardner is trying to pass that campaign off as his own. Having him at a loss to come up with any argument to defend your original ideas will also show just how incompetent and lazy he’s become over the years, leaving all of the real work to his subordinates. It’s something you’ve never done in all the years I’ve worked with you. They need to see who the real brain behind Vanguard's recent success was,” Cynthia tells me.

“Besides, isn’t he here upon the recommendation of Kellie McQuaid from Eyeconics?”

“Yes, he is,” I answer Justin.

“Well, her campaign request is currently on my desk at the loft. She’s doing a joint campaign with Remson’s brother-in-law’s swimwear line. Apparently, while she knows that you’re no longer here at Vanguard, she hasn’t told Remson as of yet. Too busy trying to get her small foot into our door, I suppose. So it stands to reason that when Remson finds out, he’ll happily jump ship immediately. I’ll be sure to drop that little tidbit of information while you’re no doubt dealing with Gardner. Just remember during that meeting to let Mel do most of the talking where the legal aspects are concerned.”

“I’m not an amateur, Sunshine.”

“Didn’t mean to imply that you were, Brian. Just that Melanie has some additional information that’s going to tip this in your favor even more.” He kisses me briefly, no doubt to appease my ruffled feathers. I feel the tension leaving me at the touch of his lips, just before he pulls back with a smile. “Now, let’s go kick ass.”

Avery, Vance’s assistant, was sitting at his desk with the headset attached to his ear. It was obvious that whomever he was talking to had nothing to do with business, as evident by him filing his nails even as we began to walk by.

“Oh shit! Look, I have to go. Vance is about to receive some very unwanted visitors! Besides he’s here, too. Yeah, I’ll call you back.” He throws the headset down on the desk before yelling, “Mr. Kinney, you can’t go in there!”

“Calm down Avery, and file your raggedy nails some more. Wouldn’t want that hangnail affecting you while you have your thumb up your ass,” I reply sarcastically. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell Vance that you did your job and barked at us sufficiently to stop us for all of thirty seconds.” I never could stand that condescending little punk. It felt good to get some of my own back.

“Come on, Bri. Let’s not waste our time on the insignificant. You can fire him later,” Justin says mysteriously, but I don’t have enough time to question him about his statement as he’s already pushed into the conference room.

“Back on Top… that’s what the people you want taking your…. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

And that’s my cue as I enter right behind Justin with the makeshift staff of Kinnetik, Inc. “Hello, Gardner. I thought Remson Pharmaceuticals could do with a real campaign, so those of us forming my new company, Kinnetik, thought to give him one.” I extend my hand towards the man in question. “Hello, John. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Brian Kinney?”

“The one and only, although I’m sure Gardner is wishing that I was a clone or hologram right about now,” I joke before sobering. “I’m not sure that Gardner has had a chance to tell you that I’m no longer associated with this… establishment.”

“No, he hasn’t. Otherwise, I would have cancelled this meeting until further investigation.”

“I understand. Your brother-in-law and a mutual friend have already sent us the preliminary specs for their joint campaign. I thought you might like to see what we have to offer before you sign under the misapprehension that I was still going to be involved directly with your campaign.”

“Brian…”

“Quiet, Vance. I would like to hear his presentation, especially since I was misled into keeping this appointment.” He answers Gardner curtly before he turns to me. “Please proceed.”

“Before I do, I wanted this meeting to go a little differently than the standard formalities Vanguard offers. First, I’d like to tell you how Kinnetik got started so that you get it directly from me as opposed to a mishmash of conjecture in order to make Vance look like the hero he isn’t.”

I go on to explain how all- and I mean, ALL- of my time at Vanguard went; the partnership agreement solidified by obtaining the Brown Athletics account to the official split between Vanguard and me. As I thought, Gardner did badmouth me to the client, advising him that my absence here today was due to a mere disciplinary action, instead of telling the truth of my enforced departure. What’s funny is that apparently Gardner never thought that what Justin and I did would make National headlines, and that not only would Remson read the paper while based in Chicago, but that so would several other companies that I’d brought into his. I never expected that an anonymous tip off to the press, and a reluctantly given exclusive with the New York Times would have snowballed into this kind of response. Although, I suppose I should have with the influx of accounts to review that Justin and I have sitting on our desk at home right now.

“Thank you for trusting me with the full story, Brian. The newspaper article only touched briefly on your part in bringing that tyrant to justice. I live in Chicago, but I’m originally from here and remember Stockwell’s father very well. He was a stand-up guy until the last five years of his tenure as police commissioner. He was then given the option to retire or face arrest. No doubt which avenue he chose. But now, let’s get to your presentation. By the way, these hors d'oeuvre are delicious. Who made them?”

“That would my business partner and me,” Vic tells him. It’s not hard to miss the pride in his eyes or voice.

“They are wonderful. Do you have a business card, and do you do out of state accounts?”

“I’m sure we would be able to accomodate you, Mr. Remson. But there is something you should know about me. I’m one of the people who would benefit from your new medication, as is my friend here. Ben and I have a very big vested interest in seeing the truth about medications such as yours, in print.”

“You mean you’re…”

“Yes, I am, but that’s not the total sum of me. As you can taste and see, I’m a classically trained chef and would like to remain so for the rest of my life.”

“How long have you been living with the virus?” John Remson seemed not only unfazed by the information Vic was giving about himself, but genuinely interested in the answer to his question.

“It’s going on twenty years now, Mr. Remson.”

“John. Please call me John.”

Vic bows his head and blushes. There is no doubt that Remson is attractive, but it’s little things like not being treated as a disease that matter the most to Vic. “John it is then. Well John, I can tell you that Brian’s original campaign, which is the one Vance tried presenting to you, while good, it’s also not accurate. Most days on the meds Ben and I feel like shit. While helpful, they are also very harsh on the body.”

“But that’s okay,” Ben tells the occupants of the room. “At least we’re alive to feel like shit. That’s what matters the most to those of us on these types of meds.”

“It’s a harsh reality, but there it is. The boards that Brian and Justin came up with tell the truth of what the medication can make you feel like, but it also gives us a hope. Not that we’ll be cured since that’s not coming for a long time, but that Endovir will help slow down the progress of the thing inside us trying to take us out of here in a body bag. I’m sure that anyone who has this virus will agree that it’s all we want. Many of us have children and grandchildren that we want to see grow old. Ben here is a natural born teacher who does his best to educate his students and keep them encouraged and enlightened. We need people like him around. As for me, I just returned to the land of the living, so to speak. My business partner, Emmett, and I, just started HoneyGrass Elegant Creations a little while ago. I’m finally doing what I have always wanted to do again. I have a partner who loves me, which I never thought to find and yes, he’s also positive. But more importantly, drugs like Endovir have given me a new lease on life, along with a major verbal asskicking from that blond young man over there. Although Justin doesn’t have the virus, someone tried to kill him a little over two and a half years ago.”

“What?” John asks in amazement.

“See, Vance really didn’t know who he had working for him when he fired Brian and Justin. Justin was at his senior prom with Brian as his date when a classmate took offense. We still don’t know if it’s because he was closeted and jealous that Justin was living the life he wanted, or if it was because he truly was a homophobe. It’s something we’ll probably never know, but that’s not the point of this story. The fact is that after Justin was bashed, people wrote him off as never being able to draw again, and yet those boards you’re looking at so intently were done by his hands. Brian is the one who wouldn’t let him give up on himself. And then later, they wouldn’t let themselves give up on each other. Through job loss and sheer determination, you’re looking at two men who treat every campaign as if their lives depend on it… because in truth, it does.”

Ben jumps in there with a statement that I never would have expected from him. “So John, in short, betting on Kinnetik gives you unlimited access to not only their individual genius, but the magic that happens when two creative people who know each other so well, and trust each other implicitly, work together. Not only are they driven; they’re relentless in their pursuit of perfection. If I may say so, you’d be a fool to trust your very sensitive and important product to anyone else, especially someone with no real knowledge or experience of that medication. Brian, Justin, and the staff at Kinnetik may all be free of the virus, but they all know the effects it can have on the people around them. After all, they interact with Vic and I everyday, checking on us to make sure we have what we need, and making sure we’re eating and staying as healthy as we can. To me, a constant survivor of HIV, that’s what I consider invaluable.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud to just be me in my life. Hearing two men who I’ve come to respect talk about Justin and me like that is just… there aren’t any words that would be adequate enough. Justin once told me that he knew the real me, but it’s so shocking to me that he’s not the only one. I clear my throat of the roil of emotions I’m experiencing at this moment.

“Well, John, you’ve heard what two people living with the virus had to say,” and so much more, I think to myself. “I’m sure you have questions for us before making your decision.”

“BRIAN! A WORD, NOW!” Gardner yells, finally having come out of his stupor.

Justin smiles at me from across the room. “Brian, you go and take care of him. I’ll stay here and wrap up with John and answer any questions he may have.” He crosses the room and gives me a kiss before whispering, “Mel’s ready.”

“Ready?”

“Yeah. Love you.” He reassures me with a slight shoulder bump, before turning back to the representatives of Remson Pharmaceuticals. “So, John, your questions…”

I smile as I leave the room, knowing that I’ll be given a full account of Justin’s genius later. Besides, if he should run into trouble since this is really the first time he’ll be securing an account on his own, Cynthia is in there. Ted, as our CFO, will go over the cost projections we’ve worked hard to come up with. So in short. I can go into this meeting with a clear conscience and worry-free.

Following Vance into his large office, I’m not surprised to see Harold Davis there. Vance is well-known for keeping his lapdog attorney on speed dial, and the fact that Melanie is in the building with me would have had Baldy sending up the red flags. The fact that even as we speak Justin is applying the last nail to Vance’s proverbial coffin is just an added bonus in my book.

“What the actual fuck did you think you were doing barging into my meeting, Brian?!” Vance yells, his nostrils flaring angrily. I almost want to laugh since he looks like a fucking drugged-up dragon right now.

“I should think that would be obvious.”

“I know what the fuck you are doing! But did you forget that you signed a non-competition clause? I could sue your ass for everything you’ve got!”

“Wrong again, Vance. I signed no such thing since I would have been denouncing myself as your partner. I mean, what idiot would jeopardize their position within their own company? However, what I did sign was a separate contract stating that any clients I brought into the business would have the option of staying with you. The key word there is option, in case you missed it. The fact that they are jumping ship like Vanguard is the fucking Titanic should tell you something. Besides, I think there is the more important matter of my backpay that we should be here discussing and not the account you just lost.”

“Mr. Vance,” Melanie begins. “As you were informed numerous times over the last few weeks, Mr. Kinney is owed roughly six million dollars in past commissions and bonuses which he’d foregone in order to buy into Vanguard Advertising. Per his contract, which you knowingly signed, he was to receive that money back upon dissolution of the partnership should that ever happen. Based on your actions, it has, so please be so kind as to cut him his check and then this part of negotiations can be concluded. Otherwise, we will be happy to take you to court to get Mr. Kinney’s just due.”

“But… but I don’t have… the company is losing clients. Besides with the stunt Kinney just pulled that should be considered payment enough! It's a three billion dollar contract for Christ's sake! At ten percent commission...”

Melanie laughs, but there isn’t any humor in it. I swear if she wasn’t on my side, I’d be scared right about now. “Oh we know you don’t have it, which is why we have another option for you altogether. But you should probably also be aware that the new house you bought is also included in the deal since it was just purchased after Brian’s supposed termination. So in exchange for all of the money, plus the house that you’ve technically stolen from my client…”

“I did NOT steal from him!”

“Yes, you did. You knowingly withheld all of the money Brian was due to receive back, only you thought it wouldn’t catch up with you, Mr. Vance. You thought that you had Brian defeated, and that you would get to walk away scot-free with money that didn’t belong to you. You thought because of what happened with Stockwell, that you could just take the money and run, right? WRONG! By the way, it was also written in his contract that he didn’t have to work with people he was opposed to doing business with. You should’ve asked your attorney about that.”

Harold Davis snickers. “He did, and I advised that Mr. Kinney was well within his rights as a partner to request that clause be put in. If Brian walked, so would Brown Athletics, so for Gardner signing that contract was a no brainer.” He turns to Vance. “I told you not to force his hand regarding Stockwell, didn’t I? I also advised you to give Brian back his financial investment into Vanguard that went along with his partnership, didn’t I?”

“But…”

“No, not but, Vance. Instead, it’s about to be your ass. So Ms. Marcus, what is this new solution you have for my boss?”

“That he not be your boss anymore.” At all of our puzzled looks, Mel continues. “We had our CFO, Ted Schmidt, look into the current value of Vanguard Advertising which seems to be decreasing weekly. Sadly for you, Vance, having Remson Pharmaceuticals as a client still wouldn’t have covered your debt to Brian. So here is what I propose we do about it: Transfer ownership of Vanguard to Brian as a gift.”

“WHAT?!” Vance is as red as a boiled lobster right now, and I suddenly understand why Justin told me to let Melanie do all the talking. I never would have asked for this company, but I can see the wisdom in owning it.

“It’s simple really, Vance. The company as it is right now is worth about half the money that you owe Brian. Then there is the Defamation of Character lawsuit that we can file due to your attempts to blackball Brian within the industry that he has worked in for the past twelve years with more success than you have had in the last twenty.”

“Attempts?” Harold asks.

“Yes. There were five that we know of so far. Kennedy and Collins in New York City; Whitlock and Thomas Advertising in New York City; Marsden Advertising in Harrisburg; Johnson, Peters, and James Advertising also in Harrisburg; and Innovation, Inc in Chicago. I’m sure if there are any more, they will be happy to come forth on Brian’s behalf. You see, Vance, Vic was telling the truth when he said that you didn’t know who you had working for and with you. Brian Kinney is the man in the industry that they are all chasing and have been for years before you ever registered on Ryder’s radar. It’s actually why Ryder sold the company to you.”

“What do you mean, Mel?” This is new news to me, too.

“I swear, you really don’t know what you have in your partner, do you?” She smiles at me with a twinkle in her eye. “Anyway, Justin looked into the background of why Ryder was sold to Vanguard. The primary reason was because of Kennedy and Collins. Ryder was so sure that you were going to get the job and move there that he wanted to bail before that could happen. The original contract with Ryder stated that you were to be given first refusal if Ryder ever considered selling the company. He violated that when he brought in Vance. Vance in turn wouldn’t buy the company without Ryder’s top ad man. When Ryder found out that you were staying, he went ahead and sold the company to Vance. We both know that you could have afforded to buy Ryder Advertising at the time should the offer had been made, but you didn’t even know about the clause the other partners had put into your contract before Marty Ryder bought them out. He did though. However, Vance offered more money, wanting a foothold here since it’s was directly in between his offices in Chicago and his dreams of conquering the New York market.” She smiles that shark smile again as she turns to Vance. “So what’s it going to be? Vanguard and the house, or court and public humiliation? It’s your choice.”

Vance looks piteously at Harold, who in turn just shrugs. “Don’t know what you’re looking at me for. You didn’t take my advice before, and you’ve brought all of this down on yourself. Don’t look for a fucking life preserver now. You won’t get one from me.”

“Isn’t there some way we can come to an amicable agreement where I don’t lose everything?” he asks Melanie, but he’s looking directly at me.

“No.” both of us say at the same time, before she lets me have my say. “You’ve already burned me once, Gardner. I didn’t trust you before, but I trust you even less now. You’ve heard the terms my attorney laid out before you: either pay up or hand over the company immediately.”

“Don’t I get a cooling off period, or some time to think about this?”

“You’ve had weeks- months even- to honor my original partnership contract, or even the one before I made partner. Instead, you decided to dig in your heels and be dragged kicking and screaming to the correct conclusion of this mess. Well, here’s a newsflash. I’m done waiting. It’s now or never, or I make the decision for you which will involve a judge and all your dirty little secrets coming out. What’s it going to be?”

I could see the wheels turning in his head about what it is that I could possibly know about him that he wouldn’t want to become public knowledge when he finally answers. “FINE! I’ll fucking sign over the damn company. Are you happy now that you’ve ruined me?”

“I wouldn’t say happy per se…”

“What the fuck ever! Just draw up the damn contract and have it back here on Monday at nine a.m.”

“No need to wait,” Mel says smugly, handing the contract to Harold for him to read over. “So just as a reiteration of what Harold is reading, Vance, you are to vacate the new property within fifteen days. Since it was technically obtained through illegal means, we are being gracious allowing you even that time. As for the company, it’s a standard contract, stating that you are giving the company in its entirety to Brian Aidan Kinney, with the knowledge that you will be absorbing the gift tax. In addition to that, although you may start up your own company, you will not be able to use the Vanguard name, nor compete for Kinnetik’s accounts under Vanguard, the ones they have presently or those in the future.”

“Is that legal? Is it airtight?” he asks Harold, brokenly.

“Even moreso than a frog’s ass is watertight.” Harold answers, still looking over the paperwork.

I would probably feel sorry for him if he hadn’t fucked me over. I think back to the bullshit he put me through in the beginning that ultimately caused me to lose Justin to the fiddler for a time. Knowing that my job technically was never in danger- that I could’ve gone on the aborted trip to Vermont instead of going to Chicago to prove myself- angers me. But then again, if I hadn’t gone to Chicago, I wouldn’t be in the position I’m in now. So I can be a little forgiving in that respect… but with Michael’s part in the whole mess, not so much. I’ll be dealing with that tomorrow.

I watch as Harold hands the papers over to Vance for his signatures. Melanie had placed mini post-it notes on every single section he is supposed to sign. I can’t say that I’m surprised at her efficiency, even as she hands me a copy of the document. As I peruse it, I’m astounded at the terms. Not only do I get the mansion located in the outskirts of Pittsburgh, but the current employees of Vanguard whose salaries he has to finish paying out from his personal account before I take possession of the business. That way the profit margin technically becomes that of Kinnetik’s from the onset. I suspect he’ll have to dig into his offshore bank account that he thinks no one knows about to make that happen.

“The contract takes effect one week from today,” Melanie informs all of us as Vance hands her back the sheaf of papers. “However, we will begin putting our own staff in place on Monday. We’ll expect this office to be cleaned out. You can use one of the smaller offices should you choose to keep up a modicum of appearances until the transfer of ownership is complete.”

“But today is Friday,” Vance whines.

“Then I suggest you hop to it, Gardner. Time waits for no man… and neither do I,” I tell him.

Melanie and I leave the office in the company of Harold. He eyes me skeptically before asking, “Should I clear out my desk as well?”

“That depends on you. I would like to keep you on as one of the heads of the Legal Department, but the one thing we demand at Kinnetik is loyalty. I know that you’ve been with Vance a long time, so I will understand if you feel that you can’t be.”

“My loyalty was never to Vance personally, but to him doing the right thing with the power he’s been given. He’s violated trust all the way around, Brian, not just with you.”

“Then stay on, Harold. Between you and Melanie, I’m sure you will keep Justin and I on the up and up.” I smile at the stout man. I’ve always like him for his plain speaking, no nonsense nature. I feel that keeping him really is the right thing to do.

“By the way, what do you have on Vance?” Mel asks me.

I laugh at her as we make our way back to the conference room. “Not a fucking thing.”

“But…”

“It’s why I’m the best in the business. A lot of time, bluffing is the name of the game. I just so happen to be able to deliver.” I tell her as I find myself with an armful of delighted, excited, happy blond. Looking down at him, I take in his flushed appearance. “Everything went well?”

He nods. “Did you expect any less?”

“No. Not from you.”

“Good. So how did your meeting go?”

“You have some explaining to do, young man. Like how come you aren’t going to law school?” I kiss him passionately before telling him, “But to answer your question, we own Vanguard.”

“We do?” I nod at him, and he grins. “Well, in that case, there’s something I have to do real quick.”

We watch puzzled as Justin heads back out to reception. “Avery, it’s my absolute pleasure to say YOU’RE FIRED! Pack up, leave and perhaps we’ll write you a reference.”

“You don’t…”

“Yes, I do. Now please tell me I have to call security. Please?” Justin narrows his blue eyes at the pencil-thin man with his snooty attitude as he hurriedly gathers his belongings and backs his way to the elevator.

“Justin? Why?”

“Other than the fact that he’s Ethan’s cousin, he just always rubbed me the wrong fucking way. Who do you think he was on the phone with when we arrived?”

“How do you know that?”

“There’s only one other nasally whine I know better, and we’re dealing with him tomorrow.”

“When?”

“When we first went past the desk. The fact that he was reporting to Ethan that I was here just pissed me off. So I just did what I could.”

“Yeah, but we don’t take possession officially until next Friday, even though we’ll probably spend the week here getting acquainted with the staff, beginning on Monday.”

Justin smiles brightly at me. “But he doesn’t know that, and by the time he finds out, he really will be fired. It’s a win-win situation to me. But if Ethan shows up…”

I kiss him silent until I see the dazed glaze enter his eyes. “Then we’ll deal with him,” I whisper against his lips.

CHAPTER 17: MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE…

HUNTER:

Now that things have officially been settled between me and Ben, I feel a modicum of peace at least. I don’t think I will feel completely at ease until (a) the Duke of Desperate and the Duchess of Dumbass are finally dethroned, and (b) the woman who contributed her egg to my birth is finally put where she belongs… in jail. I think that’s where the real problem with me is. It’s the constant state of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t help that although Ben has put in the petition to formally adopt me, he’s now filing as a single parent. Michael was useless at all other times, but at least when it was the two of them my chances were better. Now, I just don’t know what is going to happen to my case. With my luck, they will return me to Rita, and I’ll just end up back on the streets with her as my pimp. I’ll run away again before I allow that to happen. No way am I going back to her!

“Hey Hunter, you ready to go yet?” Ben calls up to me from the bottom of the stairs. I know that we’ve been requested to sit in on the confrontation this morning, but part of me is afraid to go.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, what’s taking so long?” Ben asks, but doesn’t sound pissed about the fact that I’m procrastinating. I can’t help but think of how different Wonder Dumb’s reaction would be if he was here. A more impatient person I’ve never met.

“It’s… you know what, can you come up for a second, Ben?” I ask, deciding that he should at least know what’s bothering me. “I promise that I’ll be honest.”

“You always are,” he assures me as he arrives at the door to the bedroom. “So what is it, son?”

I close my eyes and send up a silent prayer that he’ll be able to call me that for real and permanently very soon. I take a deep breath and look at him directly. “It’s a combination of things, really. The first thing being that this will be the first time I’ll be facing Michael since I’ve come back to the Pitts. What if…”

Ben seems to understand why my sentence drifted off just then. He crosses over to the bed and puts his arm around my shoulder. At first, I didn’t think he was going to say anything; just content to let him offer me all the comfort he could while my brain still played the ‘What If’ game, But then he clears his throat and begins to speak. “Hunter, I won’t lie. It may not be easy to get custody of you, but here’s where that very same thing may be able to work in your favor. Regardless of how today turns out, you will still have a place to stay. I would never turn you out to resume your life on the streets, regardless of what you’ve been told by Michael.”

“But what if the judge orders me to live with Rita again?”

“If he does, I’m sure that Mel and her friend would have come up with a counter argument to that. However, you can help yourself by being proactive.”

“Proactive? How?”

“First, we’ll get you registered for school.” At my widened eyes, he chuckles. “Now don’t worry about it, Hunter. I’m fairly certain that they have schools you can attend online, and if not, then we’ll try for the GED option. But also, you need to look for a self-sustaining job. If worse comes to worse, you should be able to apply for emancipation without having to live with Rita again. We’ll have to ask Mel how it works, but I think it’s something that should be considered carefully.”

I had never even thought about the things he’s saying, but the options make sense. If I apply for emancipation, I would never again have to be in the position that Rita has placed me in. I would never again have to worry about a parent forcing me into doing something I don’t want to do. Best of all, though, is that I would still have Ben to guide me. The only real downside is that I would still be known as James Hunter Montgomery, instead of becoming the Hunter Bruckner I’d dreamed about.

“If that happened, would you still consider me your son?” That’s a question that I really need answered. It’s one thing to be held legally responsible for another’s life, but something I realized after spending time with the Fillmores this past week. I realized that what makes people family has very little to do with blood relations.

Ben hugs me close again. “Hunter, no matter what happens, you and I will always be family. You are the son of my heart, and that’s something no judge, or Rita, can ever take away from me nor you. Not only that, but you also have James and Glenda, who I have no doubt would like to be your support system.” I’d taken him to meet the Fillmores the first time I visited after coming home. James had been absolutely right about Glenda needing to nurture people. When she’d met Ben and I for the first time, she immediately began trying to pump us full of food, especially after Ben told her of his status. She didn’t trip out about it, but opened her heart and home to him as she had done to me. I think it even caught Ben off guard, regardless of the fact that he usually tries to see the good in everyone. Thinking about it even now makes me stifle a smile.  Ben looks me in the eye then. “You’ll be sixteen in two weeks, and the hearing is set for three weeks beyond that. After we take care of the unnecessary entities in our lives this afternoon, we’ll sit down and hash everything out and come up with a solid plan. I also think we need to have James and Glenda involved in this. I’m sure they will probably have some idea on how you could go about things, especially since one of their kids is a high school teacher. It can’t hurt to have all of the information you can get, right?”

“True.”

“So that’s settle for the interim. Let’s go take care of the riffraff so that we can get on with the rest of our lives.”

I hug Ben again before he leaves the room to allow me to finish getting dressed. It feels good to be a part of this. The fact that I’m dressed in a suit like it’s an actual business meeting adds to my anticipation to have this all done. It’s the one thing that Brian and Blondie asked of all of us. I can’t wait to see Michael’s face when he shows up and realizes that him being summoned has nothing to do with him being missed, and everything to do with him being dismissed. Oh my god, I think I’m channeling Emmett, because I just had the sudden urge to jump and down, clapping my hands in my excitement. If that happens again, I swear I’m checking myself into a psych ward, I think to myself as I once again make an effort to tie this damn tie perfectly.

CYNTHIA:

“Oh my! It looks amazing in here!” Ted exclaims. “Nothing like the old baths at all.”

I smile. “But fitting just the same. The contractors Jennifer recommended took direction well, and have gone beyond my expectations.”

“True, but do you think they have met the exacting standards of Mr. Kinney and Mr. Taylor?”

And that is the real question, ladies and gentlemen. Brian and Justin have proven to be perfectionists at the most inopportune times. Just as Ted and I arrived back at the loft after yesterday’s meeting at Vanguard, Justin was in the midst of a hissy fit. Apparently, the printing company they’d hired to handle the specially-designed business cards and company letterhead had either messed up the order or blatantly disregarded Justin’s instructions. Turns out that the person put in charge of the Kinnetik account was someone Brian and Justin had specifically requested not be given it to handle. They didn’t mind the fact that Glenn Reeves worked for the company; just requested that the young man stay away from their account. Ted and I later found out that Reeves was a good friend of Christopher Hobbs during high school, and Justin didn’t trust him, unfortunately with good reason.

So Justin threatened to sue the printing press company for everything they were worth and even the contracts they hadn’t even gotten yet if their order wasn’t fixed immediately and delivered by five that afternoon. The funny thing is that he didn’t raise his voice with the person on the phone, even as he slammed down anything he could get his hands on around the loft. Brian just stood by watching Justin avidly, and smirking, silently gloating that he’d taught his partner well. So it was no surprise when the owner himself arrived at the loft with Brian and Justin’s corrected paper goods for Kinnetik.

I nod at Ted. “Even the persnickety and facetious Brian Kinney couldn’t have any opinion other than that this place is perfect. It also helps that with the acquisition of Vanguard, only the most senior staff is going to be stationed here.”

I think it was a genius idea of Justin’s to split the company up to where the employees we are keeping at Vanguard and the new hires will stay in the other building to work on the current accounts or those considered cookie cutters, while those of us in this building will take on all of the new accounts and those who have already jumped ship to go with Kinnetik. This way both locations will be used to their fullest potential, and with a more widespread staff, Brian and Justin will be able to delegate responsibility a lot sooner than we all anticipated.

“Hi, hi, Sweeties!” Emmett comes in with a platter in his hands.

“Good morning, Em,” Ted greets back. “Need help?”

“You know it, Teddy. This is only one of seven platters. If you could be a dear and tell me where to put this first one, I’ll put it down and get the rest.”

“I’ll show you, Emmett. In the meantime, I think between the three of us, we can get everything inside and set up before the Highnesses arrive.” I smile at him. I’ve always enjoyed his company and country colloquialisms.

“That would just be divine, Miss Cynthia. I spoke to Vic this morning and although he’ll have more with him, he’s running a bit late.”

My heart thumped a little heavy for the man who was fast becoming a father to us all. I shake my head. “I would imagine that today is going to be extremely hard on him… as hard as it will be on Brian.”

“Yeah. Truthfully, it’s going to be hard on most of us in the room. Deb’s been a mother and Michael like a pesky younger brother to us when our own families ostracized us based on their own prejudices and ideals. If someone had predicted this would happen years ago, I think I can safely speak for Ted, Brian, and myself when I say there would have been hell to pay for speaking against Deb. But with the mounting evidence against them…” he sighs deeply. “Well there just isn’t a way to negate all they’ve done, although I’m sure they will try to justify it. But how does one excuse hurting a man who would’ve gladly given the shirt of his back in exchange for complete honesty? That’s the core of Brian’s issue with all of this, I’m sure.”

“It is,” I concur. “I don’t really know much about the relationship before I met Brian- only bits and pieces he’s told me over the years. But I do know that Brian hates being lied to. He’d rather you tell him that you hated him instead of having your actions show that while being given the ‘loving’ lip service. The same goes for when you fuck up, that way he can at least respect you. What they have done to him has negated even a modicum of truth they may have ever uttered. There’s really no coming back from that.”

We move the rest of Emmett’s offerings into the building as we continue to talk about the coming confrontations. I really wonder how Brian will be able to heal and move forward from this. It’s sure to rock his foundation somewhat. But we all agree that it’s good that Justin is with Brian for better or worse now, and we all trust that he’ll know what to do. It’s a lot to put on his young shoulders, but if there’s one thing we all continue to learn, it’s that there isn’t much Justin Taylor can’t do if he’s determined to do it. It’s a lesson that the evil three are about to learn firsthand.

“Oh, I meant to ask if Lindsay is coming?” Emmett asks me, and I smile.

“I’m sure she will be, but certainly not in the way she likes best. She’s probably even now looking for the perfect outfit to draw attention to herself… or at the very least, try to keep Brian’s attention focused on her.”

“Not Mel’s?”

“Oh she’ll make a play for Mel too, I’m sure. But from what I’ve seen and heard these past few weeks, Lindsay’s main focus has to be Brian. In her mind he’s the only one that can make Mel see reason. With her parents staying out of her affairs, both literally and figuratively, whatever money she put aside for herself has to be dwindling down. Add to that the lawsuit pending against her from her lover’s wife, and Lindsay will be scraping for change, if she isn’t already.”

“Well, she can keep right on doing that because there is no way Mel is going to take her back,” Ted says.

“What makes you so sure?”

He smiles mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

VIC:        

I just can’t seem to get myself together this morning. Even knowing what they have done, part of me wants to think it is all a bad dream. I mean, I always knew that Deb had some shit with her, but it was always able to be excused away. In this case it just can’t be, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that. Sure, I’m as angry as a queer whose favorite dildo just gave out right at his crucial moment, but I’m also disappointed. I can’t count the number of times over the years that I had warned Deb that one day Michael was going to cost her everything she held dear if she didn’t start saying ‘no’ to him and disciplining him when he got out of hand.

Perhaps that’s where I went wrong. Perhaps I shouldn’t have left it up to her to smack Michael in the mouth when he pouted after being told he couldn’t have what he wanted. But the constant cost of saving myself from arguing with her has now resulted in this, and I can’t stop the feelings of guilt continuing to wash over me.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Rodney asks me as he wraps his arms around me from behind.

“Just thinking that maybe there was some way for me to stop the train wreck about to happen.”

“There was nothing you could have done, Vic. Not without having to sacrifice your sanity. We both know how Michael is where Deb is concerned and vice versa. Co-dependent doesn’t even begin to describe their relationship. It’s not even an equal balance of give and take between them; but a perpetual state of ‘Michael wants so he must have’ even at the risk of herself. I’m sure you aren’t the only one over the years that’s warned Debbie. Hell, just the other week, I did it myself. You can’t help the willfully blind even while you’ve shown them the way, Vic. Nor can you badger a person who is no longer willing to listen. In Deb’s case, she’s willing to hear what you have to say as long as it doesn’t badmouth that offspring of hers. That’s on her.”

“She always felt responsible for Michael’s lack of a father, trying to do the job of two parents.”

“That may be true to an extent, so I’ll not negate it. However, the problem is that if she was trying to do that, she failed miserably. What’s the one thing our fathers taught us, Vic?” I snicker at him, and he squeezes me gently in mirth. “I mean aside from the fact that they could be the world’s largest assholes.”

“I have to admit that my father was a stickler for me taking responsibility for my actions. It’s a concept that I’d been learning since I can remember. For a time, I could talk my mother around to my own way of thinking, but then my father put a stop to that. He told her, right in front of me, that if I was big, bad, and bold enough to act a fool, then I was able to reason and could accept the consequences no matter how harsh. Sometimes he wouldn’t even punish me himself, but let life itself be my teacher. In those moments, I think I wished for the paddle, because my life lessons and torment would have ended sooner than having to wade through the proverbial waters of bad decisions. Although Deb had it easier, she learned the same way, which is why I can’t understand why she let Michael get away with everything.”

“I’ll tell you as I’ve told her. Michael gets away with everything only when it doesn’t directly affect her. But now that all of his chickens are coming home to roost at her expense, how do you suppose she will act?”

I sigh deeply. “She’ll be angrier than I’ve ever seen her… but she’ll also be alone, Rodney. How can I leave her alone when she’s never left me?”

“Then be there for her after the fact. Don’t stop talking to her, but also, don’t let her lay any guilt trips on you, Love. This is not your fault, but her own. Make her own it, even as you try to lend the support she needs from her brother. But Vic, know when your life needs to become a Kenny Rogers song, okay?”

At first, I didn’t get it, but then I knew and started whistling “You gotta know when to hold them, know when to fold them, know when to walk away, know when to run...” It seemed completely fitting that Rodney would mention the song from “The Gambler” at this moment, since I’m taking a chance that Deb will understand just why I’m siding with Brian and Justin against her and Michael. I can’t help but wonder if the roles were reversed, and Brian did this to Michael, just how far would she have gone to enact revenge. I’m sure she would have had a whole lot to say even if it was Justin who had done this to Michael, although she might have gone a bit easier on him. Familiarity breeds contempt after all, so no doubt Brian would have gotten the worst end of the deal. By my opinion, Brian and Justin are trying to keep this as painless as possible for all parties while getting back what was stolen from them.

However, if this was Michael’s situation, he would have automatically gone the route of public humiliation and law enforcement. I can only hope that Deb will use logic and reason to know that this situation could be made so much worse should Michael not follow through, or if he chooses dig his heels in as per usual. Hopefully, she will be able to talk sense into him. But if all else fails, I hope she’ll smack the fuck out of him and perhaps jar that metal plate in his head loose which keeps out any version of events that’s not within his own imagination. And then maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to make a wise decision and do the right thing… for once.

LINDSAY:

Hmmm… what should I wear? Well since I’m going to Brian for help regarding Mel, perhaps I should appeal to his masculinity. Although he had that bitch Cynthia call me instead of picking up the phone himself, I could probably forgive that oversight. Well, providing he does something for me. My savings are dwindling down fast, and now that I’m no longer working at the gallery, I no longer have the till to fall back on until times are better. Sidney made it clear that he knew I was taking a little extra off the top, which he was willing to overlook somewhat because Mel and I were in dire straits- a false assumption that I didn’t bother to correct. But with the scandal that cow, Amanda Auerbach started by naming me as Sam’s mistress that accursed lawsuit, Sidney said that he had no choice but to fire me because I’d become a liability instead of an asset. After all I’d done for him and his puny little gallery, you’d think that he would have shown his loyalty. I guess there’s no honor amongst thieves, nor within the art world either.

So now I’m being forced to appeal to Brian to get him to talk to Mel on my behalf. You would have thought by now that he would have told her that she was blowing my affair out of proportion, but NO! Brian couldn’t do that because he’s too busy playing with his little playmate, Justin, when he should be out looking for a way to support me… uh, I mean Gus. Well, like it or not, Gus and I come as a package deal and he needs to step up to the plate and fix this as he always does. Once my position is secure again, I’ll happily leave him to play with Justin until I’m ready to make my own moves to break them up.

Justin’s hand has been getting stronger and stronger; it’s only a matter of time before I can call in a favor from my former lover and mentor, Simon Caswell. I know that he’s planning to open a gallery of his own as soon as his contract with Art Forum magazine runs out. Once he makes Justin and offer he can’t refuse- and he won’t, since I’ll be whispering in his ear about the amazing opportunity- Justin will surely leave Brian alone for greener pastures and thereby clearing my path once again. But first, I have to get Brian around to my way of thinking.

“I think the silk red pantsuit it will be,” I say aloud as I take it out of the garment bag I retrieved from the storage unit. “It’s classy, sexy, and definitely meant to catch the eye and hold all of the attention in the room.” I was saving it for a special occasion, but I think my impending victory and restoration as the Queen of my small world counts as one.

An hour later, I eye myself in the full length mirror within the motel room. I honestly can’t wait for the proceedings of reclaiming my life to begin. Lynette and her insipid husband told me not to come back to their house until I cleared up my scandal, and so I’ve been exiled to this dingy place. On the brightside, the reporters haven’t found me yet, though when they do, the last place I want to be seen is here. I snatch up my clutch purse, phone, and room key. Then I double check the address that Cynthia gave me to meet Brian at. For some reason it looks familiar, but I really can’t place it right now. Besides, I need to concentrate on winning Brian over. All other questions, like why that location, can wait until I do that.

MICHAEL

“I don’t know why he didn’t call us himself, Ma!” I shout at her. Sometimes, I swear it’s like dealing with the fucking Inquisition. All of her damn questions are getting on my last nerve. Plus I’m still pissed about being denied access to Brian’s loft yesterday. “All I know is that he had that bitch call to summon us like we’re fucking peasants or something. For some reason he wants us to meet him at the old Adonis building.”

“Well then he can explain why you haven’t been given a new key to the loft.”

“That’s right! But more importantly, he can give me my fucking money back. I shouldn’t have had to pay to have his car towed back here. He’s the one who wanted it.”

“Although, I agree with you, Sweetheart, the fact remains that you had his car somewhere that he had no knowledge of. If you ask me, you should probably appeal to Ben about that since that was fucking Hunter’s doing. Besides, doesn’t he owe you for rent on your apartment too since he was staying there while you were gone?”

“That’s true, Ma. Thank goodness you reminded me.” I go over to my new laptop that I brought back to Pittsburgh with me. Lance had it outfitted for me just the way I needed it, with all the updated programs. Logging onto my spreadsheet, I update the invoice sheet that I have for Ben and Hunter. Since he wanted to leave me because of what Hunter told him, I figured he should pay me for the privilege. Besides, once Brian and I get settled in Palm Springs, Ben really won’t matter anymore anyway. In truth, he never did.

“What have you got there, Michael?” Ma asks as she looks over my shoulder.

“Just a little something that I need to drop by Ben’s apartment after we’re done with Brian. Speaking of which, why haven’t you been by Brian’s place?”

“Mel’s been spending a lot of time over there and after she had me escorted from her office, I thought it was best if we both had a chance to cool down.”

“She really owes you an apology for doing that to you.”

“Yes, she does, but you know Mel. She’ll need something from me before I need her, and then the apologies will come.”

“Well make sure you make her grovel. I intend to do the same to Brian. I mean, seriously, he’s just been treating me shabbily these last few months. You would think that I would count more after all I’ve done for him.”

“Well, he’s been too concerned with Justin to think much about anyone, Michael.”

“And that’s going to be one of the first things I address when I see him. It’s time he make a decision. It’s either going to be me or that fucking kid. He can’t keep playing house with him if he’s going to remain friends and ultimately be with me. I won’t allow for tricks of any kind, especially not that one!” Yes, indeed! It’s time for Brian to be mine completely. I won’t even think about any other outcome. He owes me this and I intend to collect!  

“I suppose we should get going, Michael. We don’t want to be late. You know how Brian is.”

“Of course I do, which is why I say we should make him sweat a bit. We’re the ones with all the power. He wronged us, not the other way around. So I say we get there when we’re ready to, and not a moment before.”

“Fine. Do you want some coffee?”

“That would be great, Ma. Oh and don’t forget the cream,” I tell her as I turn back to the computer screen, detailing every single thing consumed by that fucking little ingrate who I was forced to take with me to Lance’s house. After this business with Brian is finally straightened out, Hunter is next on my list. Ben has obviously made his choice, but it will be Hunter who ultimately has to pay for it.

DEBBIE:

Jeez, a ‘yes please and thank you’ might have been nice! I’ll just chock his obvious lack of manners up to the stress he’s under right now. I start the coffeemaker to brewing, thinking that I’m surely going to need multiple cups to deal with my son if he doesn't get his way. But who am I kidding? He always does; it's just the way things have always been...as they should be! So just one cup will do for now.

MEL:

Janean and I look over the packets once more in the office which is serving as my own within the Kinnetik building. I really can’t believe how perfect this space turned out, but I don’t know why I’m the least bit surprised. Both Brian and Justin have impeccable taste, and this place reflects that.

“So it looks like all of the packets are in order. The only one who doesn’t get one is…”

“Lindsay,” I confirm for Janean. "I have a specific one for her. Right now, I’m just trying to figure out the best time to spring it.”

“Well the suits will be here for her within a half an hour of the start of the meeting time. Perhaps it would be better to deal with her and get her out of the way before the real fun begins.”

“Ah, and possibly put the fear of god into Mighty Mouth in the process?” Janean smiles wide at me. “I do like the way you think. So that’s what we’ll do. We should tell the others.”

So far Vic, Rodney, Ted, Cyn, and Em are in the lobby. As I cross over to them I see Ben, Hunter, and Jennifer coming in. At my anxious and puzzled look she says, “They are on their way.”

I smile. “Ah, let me guess. They got a little sidetracked.”

She nods. “They stopped over at Dusty and Marie’s to see Gus. The other… well it’s the fact that it’s going to be a hard day for them. I think they just needed a little of Gus’ magic to bolster them. So what’s the plan?”

I detail what Janean and I were thinking, and receive nods in return. "Well, let me know the exact time so that I can get her parents on the phone. I want them to hear everything so that she doesn’t have a way to spin this to her advantage later." Jennifer says, fiercely.

“My, my, you really don’t like her, do you?” I laugh.

“Not at all, but it’s really her mother I can’t stand. However, there’s the fact that all animosity aside, we’re still mothers and by keeping her in the loop, I feel it’s a favor she’ll owe me later on. Although, I’m not averse to twisting the emotional knife just that little bit deeper since Nancy tried to do that to me a time or two when Justin first came out, and again during my divorce from Craig. But in this case, I’ll let Nancy have her one-upmanship with pleasure.”

Brian and Justin come into the office just then, as put together as I’ve ever seen them. Their collective power and confidence radiates so much that the air is charged with it. One would never know just how hard this is going to be for both of them by the way they are greeting everyone, shaking hands and trading comments with those here they aren’t familiar with. It’s funny, but although each man has an inner fire and self-containment that can’t be denied individually, together they present this impenetrable wall. It’s as if nothing can get through to them to cause them harm. I don’t even think they realize that it’s the aura they exude.

It’s both beautiful and disconcerting.

“Guys, Lindsay’s cab just pulled up. Let me bring you both up to speed real quick,” I tell them, as I lead everyone to the conference room.

We all agreed that we should maintain our element of surprise, so Cynthia is going to be at the front desk waiting for the idiot brigade to arrive. Although this will indeed be a fucked up day, I will not deny that I am looking forward to it. I take a quick peek out the door to not only see Lindsay standing there, but Dale. And then I hear it… and wish for a fucking muzzle. Mighty Mouth and his Mouth Almighty mama have indeed arrived.

CHAPTER 18: YOU HAVE THE ATTENTION...SO NOW WHAT?

LINDSAY:

I walk into the familiar building, amazed at the artwork on the walls. Taking a closer look at them, I smile to myself when I notice that it’s Justin’s work. It’s all abstract, but you can certainly feel the thought, care, and emotion that he put into creating such masterpieces. They really should be hanging in a museum, which is amazing considering what happened to him just a few years ago. But then again, that’s Justin.

Once he made up his mind to push through his limitations and forget about the naysayers, the talent Justin’s always had began to flourish once more, exceeding even my exacting expectations. Seeing these just reaffirms that once I have Brian on my hook again, I will be able to move up my timetable to get Justin out of our lives for good. It's the right thing to do for everyone involved, especially ME. And honestly, who better than to introduce him to the art world and act as his manager other than someone who knows what it will take for him to succeed? I'll make sure that he really understands what it means to suffer for his art, but first things first...

“Cynthia! Good to see you,” I say, smiling.

“I wish I could say the same,” she says.

“Aww, now don’t tell me you’re still bitter about the last time we talked.”

She smiles at me with narrowed eyes. “Never bitter, Lindsay. You’ve never had that kind of power over me.”

“Cynthia…”

“How’s Sam?” she smiles even wider. “A funny thing always happens when he’s around don’t you think? He always believes that he’s so slick with his whores and peccadilloes. You would think that any self-respecting woman with a modicum of self-preservation would know to stay clear of that particular married man. But apparently, not all women are smart, are they Lindsay?”

The smug look on her face speaks volumes of my latest drama, and it’s then that I realize just who it was that gave my name to that she-wolf married to Sam. I am about to slap the smug smile off her face when we are interrupted by the familiar whine and screech of the Novotnys. I roll my eyes and paste a smile on my face before turning to them.

“Michael, Debbie, a pleasure and surprise to see you here.”

“Yeah, you too, Lindsay. Has his High Ass summoned you, too?” Debbie sneers. I have to wonder about her sudden bitterness towards Brian.

“In fact he has, although he couldn’t be bothered to call me himself,” I say rolling my eyes at the bimbo looking upon us with interest. “Perhaps we should find him and find out why that is.”

“Yeah, I would love to…” Michael starts, but is cut off by Jennifer’s voice.

“Good, you’re all here. Now we can begin the tour.”

“Tour?!” Debbie screeches. “What fucking tour do I need of this place? And furthermore, you can explain why my kid wasn’t able to get into the loft yesterday.”

“You weren’t able to get into the loft?” I ask Michael, shocked by this turn of events. I’ve been telling Brian for years that Michael really didn’t need a key to his place. Of course, that didn’t apply to me. I should really find out if my own key still works.

“It’s simple really, Debra. Michael doesn’t live there, and I own the building. So in short, I made an executive decision, which the other tenants are just ecstatic about. Michael has caused such a ruckus there over the years that the vote to keep his whiny behind out was unanimous.”

“Well why do you own the building?” Michael asks, anger blazing in his eyes.

“My reasoning is simple. My son and his partner live there. It was only fitting that I buy the building to keep unwanted entities out of it. The fact that it’s also now safe for other residents… well that’s just an added bonus. So now, back to the tour. You all are standing in the corporate offices of both Kinnetik Enterprises and Marcus and Peters Associates.”

“What the hell are you going on about? What does any of that have to do with why we’re here?” Michael whines, and I swear it’s like nails on a chalkboard. Perhaps it has something to do with why he was banned from Brian’s building. The word partner was not lost on me.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Michael. I forgot for a moment that I was dealing with someone with low-brain capacity and selective hearing. Deb, you should really get him checked out since he could never do that for himself.” Jennifer smiles, even as she’s insulting him. “Anyway, once more, Brian, Justin, and Melanie, along with her business partner, Janean Peters own this building. I’ve been asked to give you a tour since all four of them are currently busy. Follow me.”

I have to admit that as Jennifer is giving us the tour, I am in awe of what they have done with the place. One would never think that men used to fuck at all hours of the day and night within these walls. Not only can I see Brian’s influence in every office, but Justin’s, and Melanie’s as well. The fact that she has her own practice now makes it even more imperative that she takes me back. Apparently, she’s finally moving in the direction I’ve been trying to push her to go for so many years. No way shouldn’t I reap the benefits of all my hard work. It’s only fair that she shares the bounty sure to come her way, with me.

“So when will they all be open for business?” I ask, already counting the retroactive child support Brian owes me in my head.

“Oh, they already are, and have all been very busy. It’s another reason why I banned Michael from the loft. They didn’t need any distractions while getting their business off to a great start. They just landed a multi-billion dollar account yesterday,” she brags. That means there isn’t any reason Brian can’t write me a check today. By my calculations, there should be about five grand in the account no later than two weeks from now.  

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Michael muses, hurt lacing his voice before he becomes angry. “And why the hell do you keep referring to Brian and Justin as partners in Brian’s company? I’m sure Boy Ass had nothing to do with it, but is riding Brian’s coattails as usual!”

“No, that would be you, Michael. I’ll leave Brian to give any explanations he chooses to give. I was asked to show you around because I was the broker who found them this place.”

I laugh. “Oh, Jennifer, how you exaggerate. Working for a real estate company doesn’t automatically make you a broker. Even I know that…”

“True, Lindsay. But when you actually own the company and also have taken and passed the Broker’s Licensing Exam, you can call yourself a broker, not only in fact but in deed. So again, I was the broker that found them this place. The contractors who work under me and for my company redesigned it to meet the goals and needs of both businesses,” she says smugly, and it’s clear just why my mother and her don’t get along. Jennifer Taylor is arrogant without good reason. It doesn’t help my mother’s case that she’s also higher up in the country club set than the Petersons, and Jennifer blocked Lynette’s access to that tier on more than one occasion. She stops in front of a closed door. “So now that we have arrived at the conference room, you all can go in. I just need to make a quick call.”

As I push my way past Michael and Debbie, I’m stunned into silence. Michael careens into me, as does Debbie after him, causing me to slip on my high heels and land in an undignified sprawl, face first, on the side of conference table.

“Lindsay, nice of you to join us. Although your grand entrance leaves a lot to be desired, no matter how funny it was to watch,” Mel says, laughter clear in her voice.

I pick myself up from the table, narrowing my eyes at her as Michael once again begins to whine. “What are you all doing here? Brian, what are they doing here? I thought you wanted to meet with me and Ma privately!”

“Technically we are meeting privately, since all of Liberty Avenue isn’t here. Although I suspect I should have invited a few denizens, maybe even charged admission, but who knows. Anyway, we’ll get to why you’re here in a little bit. First, I have matters to discuss with Lindsay.”

I preen as I take the seat directly in front of me after righting my clothes. It’s nice for Brian to finally recognize my importance and put me ahead of Michael and Deb. “So Brian, what was so important that you couldn’t call me and invite me here yourself?”

“Lindsay, can the dramatics. As for why you’re here, I thought it was time to get a few matters straight,” he answers me curtly. I don’t appreciate his tone, but I know I have to let it slide… for now anyway. My mother’s always taught me that when you have your hand in the lion’s mouth, it’s always better to ease it out than snatch it back.

“Alright, Brian. Alright,” I placate. “But that doesn’t explain why everyone else is here. I mean, I can understand why Mel is, at least to a degree, but my business with you doesn’t concern everyone else.” I look pointedly at Justin, who just stares blandly back at me. What the fuck is going on?

“Actually, I wanted witnesses to what I am about to say, which is why they are all here. You have the annoying habit of twisting the truth to suit your own ends, much like Michael, who is sitting next to you. By the way, Michael, you probably shouldn’t look so smug. I have a few choice words for you as well.”

“But Brian…” His high-pitched whine is surely about to reach epic proportions, so I interrupt quickly.

“Michael, please remember to modulate your volume. My eardrums can only take so much,” I demand, forcing every eye in the room back to me, where if I’m honest, it should be. “Now, Brian, I would like to speak to you privately on a matter of great importance to me. It has come to my attention that your assistant has been spreading vicious rumors about me.”

“All of which are well founded and therefore cannot be considered rumors,” Bitch Barbie, as I have taken to thinking of her in my mind, responds. “You have been intimate with a man, who is definitely not your wife. Oops! I meant to say, soon-to-be-ex wife. Or has the official dividing of the assets already happened, Mel?”

She smiles at Mel, who is in the other power seat of the table, seemingly waiting patiently for her answer. As it is, I’m pissed that Bitch Barbie is flanking Brian’s right as Justin is on his left. That’s my fucking seat! I’m tempted to make a fuss and demand that Justin trades seats with me immediately, but again I know that I have to bide my time to make my demands. But wait…

“Yes, it’s official as of yesterday afternoon, Cyn. Lindsay is no longer a part of my life,” Melanie answers her with a smile as wide as I’ve ever seen on her. I straighten my shoulders and glare at her, before remembering exactly what my ultimate goal is, which is to get my control of Gus back.

Allowing my hair to fall forward to frame my face, I turn tearful eyes to Brian. “Oh, Bri, what am I supposed to do now? I mean, Gus is… well, it was always meant that Mel and I would raise him, and now she’s checking out. This does mean that she has to relinquish her rights, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, the contrary, Lindsay,” Mel corrects me. “I still have my rights. Brian and I have talked about it, and neither one of us expects the other to not be fully involved with Gus’ life. I think you should take a look at the packet in front of you for the full details of the agreement between Brian and me.”

“You and Brian?” I ask as I flippantly flip open the packet. “You and Brian have come to some sort of agreement without me?”

“Indeed we have, because ultimately, you aren’t a factor. Brian and I will be petitioning for shared custody of Gus.”

“What the hell do you mean I don’t matter? I’m Gus’ mother! His only TRUE mother!”

“For all of about five minutes more. Make sure you look at the entire packet within the next five minutes, Lindsay, because that’s about all the time you have left to make a decision.”

“Decision? What decision?”

Brian clears his throat, causing me to look down the table at him. “Well, there is the matter of your rights. Either way, you will not be in Gus’ life from this day forward…”

“WHAT?! What bullshit are you trying to pull?” All thoughts of appealing to his masculinity have fled as I am now angry. “I don’t know what you and Melanie have planned but I can tell you right now, I’m not giving up Gus! He’s my…”

“Meal ticket? Automatic rent? Or is he your clothing allowance this month?”

“What the fuck are you on?! He’s MY son!”

“Only when you choose to be his mother, Lindsay. Other than that he’s your tool of extortion by virtue of an umbilical cord. Well, again you have only now three minutes to decide how you relinquish your rights.” Brian tells me before Mel speaks.

“Either do it the honorable way or have them revoked. It’s your choice.”

“The honorable… what’s in it for me?”

“And there's the Lindsay we all used to love and now loathe. Well relinquishing them voluntarily keeps Gus’ name out of the papers,” she says, almost gleefully. “You see Lindsay, remember Guillaume, who you were about to marry for a green card a couple of years ago?”

“Yes. What about him?”

“Well currently, he’s sitting in a jail cell waiting to be deported. It turns out that his boyfriend, Robert, who just happens to be an American, is in the hospital just waking up from a medically induced coma.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with this situation?” I demand. I’m pissed, and at this point I don’t give a shit who knows it.

“Oh, Lindsay. Language!” Mel teases, and while the rest of them laugh, I glare. “I was just getting around to telling you before you so rudely interrupted me. Anyway, Robert told the police what Gui did, but that wasn’t all. He also told them about Gui’s plan to take Gus and force you to marry him so that he could stay in the country. When he and Robert argued about it, Gui went ballistic and beat Robert, breaking several bones which was the reason for the coma. But when they were questioning him, an interesting series of events involving your past association with the Frenchman came to light.

"The plain and simple truth is that you’re going to jail, Lindz. They have all of the emails between you and Gui where the whole thing was planned out, including the subsequent plan to involve Gus in your scheme. That constitutes child endangerment, by the way. Gui kept all of the evidence on a flash drive that was found during a search of his home when they weren’t sure Robert was going to make it. But that’s not all, darling. They also have all of the phone records Robert saved, including the new plan you and Gui came up with that would force money out of Brian and I. Did you really think that we wouldn’t recognize your signature planning all over this, Lindsay? Regrettably, Brian and I have known you too many years not to recognize your plot twists, sweetheart. And all of this so that you could travel with Sam Auerbach, A MARRIED MAN, around the globe.”

My fucking head was spinning. I can’t believe they have figured it all out. All my fucking plans… I was supposed to meet Sam in Paris later on this month for his European tour, but then that sneaky bitch Cynthia's machinations, and now this…. I’m still going over the packet full of evidence when I realize that Jennifer has let in some people with official looking badges.

“Agent Ramos, it’s nice to finally meet you in person,” Mel greets him.

“As well you, Ms. Marcus. Agent Jacoby sends his regards. He was called away on another matter.”

“All is well, I hope,” she answers him. How can she be so fucking chummy with the bastard about to take me away in handcuffs?!

“About as well as can be expected. I think he’s more nervous than his wife, and yet she’s about to push something the size of a watermelon out of a lemon.” Ramos chuckles. Fucking bastard! “Well, I guess we should go on and conclude our business.”

“Yes, let's… but before that, let me formally introduce you. Lindsay, this is Agent Ramos from the U.S. Department of Immigration. For the record, Gui was denied naturalization three times, since he has a warrant for assault in France under his actual name, which is Franck Lavigne. Are you finally going to do the right thing by Gus, or be selfish as usual?”

“I choose to be selfish as you call it,” I sneer. “When my parents hear of this, I’ll be back, I’m sure.”

“We’re hearing you now, Lindsay,” my father’s voice interrupts.

“Daddy? Daddy, where are you? You won’t believe…”

“We’ve heard it all, Lindsay. There won’t be any help coming from us. Not this time!”

“Mother?” I ask, as Jennifer holds out her cell phone, which is on speaker to me. THAT FUCKING BITCH!!!!

“Yes, Lindsay, I’m here. To say that I am disappointed would be the understatement of the century. Do yourself, and that little boy, a favor and sign the document. It’s bad enough that your troubles are once again going to be gossip fodder. Try, for once, to think of how your scandalous actions will affect others around you. Now I understand why Ronald was so adamant about taking this trip now. And thank you Jennifer, for calling me so that we could get the full story. It’s bad enough that we have to be associated with her, but we won’t be made to look like fools trying to defend the indefensible.”

“It was my pleasure, Nancy and Ronald. I would have wanted to know firsthand what I was about to walk into should this had been one of my own children. Thankfully, it’s not something I will ever have to worry about.” Jennifer smiles smugly at me before disconnecting the phone. “Well, Lindsay, you’ve heard what your parents think you should do.”

“Brian?” I ask, tearfully.

He shakes his head. “Justin and I won’t be coming to your rescue either, Lindsay. As a matter of fact, as I recall, we both tried to talk you out of it along with just about everyone else here, except for the Novotnys who were too busy with their heads up Dr. David’s ass to be bothered. Clean up your own mess.”

“What am I facing?” I ask Agent Ramos, who has his hand on my left arm, presumably to prevent me from running.

“To be honest, fifteen years and a $250,000 fine, or both. It really depends on the judge and how the prosecution processes the evidence.”

“Brian, can’t you at least pay the fine for me? I’m your son’s mother, after all.”

“And the exact reason I’m not paying shit. You knew better and were going to involve my son in illegal activity anyway. No, Lindsay, you deserve everything you’re about to get and more. But don't worry about Gus; Mel, Justin, and I will raise OUR, as in the three of us, our son.”

Hearing Brian speak to me like that broke my heart. I never… I never really thought that any of this would catch up with me, or if it did, that I would be long gone by then. I look around at all the people I consider family and see not only disapproval, but anger that is burning so deeply for me right now. There is no one in this room who will support me and get Brian to change his mind. The only one with a different look is Michael. But it’s obviously because he thinks he’s finally won Brian.

I lean close, while reaching for the pen, and whisper. “You’re next, Michael.”

“I don’t think so, Lindz. With you gone, there’s no one to whisper doubts in his ear.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Oh you little fool, but you’ll learn… and I think sooner than you bargained for.” I’m gratified to see that the smug look on his face is fading, although it is still there. After signing my son away to Mel and Brian, I straighten up. “I’m sorry.” I say before I’m led out.

While I’m being read my Miranda rights, and being handcuffed, I hear Deb ask, “How the fuck can you do that to her?! She’s your son’s mother!”

But it’s Brian’s response that shocks me as he yells back at her. “I didn’t do that to her; she did it to herself, just as you’re about to!”

I wonder what that statement means… Although I don’t have much time to think about it as the reporters who have been following me around for the last few days have managed to find me again. This time, I don’t even fight having my picture taken as I’m hustled into the back of a dark-windowed sedan. What was the point? Oh well.

At least, despite the handcuffs, I still look fucking fabulous.

CHAPTER 19: YOU HAVE THE ATTENTION...NOW WHAT Part 2

JENNIFER:

“How the fuck can you do that to her?!” Debra screeches. “She’s your son’s mother!”

“I didn’t do that to her; she did it to herself, just as you’re about to!” Brian fires back, and honestly I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so… angry. I have to admit that I’m proud of him.

Justin’s told me a little over the years about Brian’s allegiance to the Novotnys. At first, I just couldn’t understand just why Brian would constantly brush off their insults and criticisms. But the more that I’ve gotten to know Brian, the more I realized that he didn’t just brush things off as I’d thought… Instead he internalized their words and actions. It put why he constantly pushed Justin away in a new perspective for me. It was never a case of Brian not loving my son- I know that now.

It was because he was afraid. There are different types of abuse, and while Brian had endured physical and emotional abuse before, the kind coming from Deb and Michael was the kind that made lesser human beings suicidal.

“Hey, watch your tone with Ma, Brian,” Michael warns.

“Shut up, Michael. You’re about to have your own shit to deal with,” Justin says, in a tone I’ve never heard him use. Hell, even I’m tempted to sit quietly. I dare not even breathe out of rhythm right now in case he notices, and he’s not even angry with me.

“Why you little…”

The cool draft hits me as the door opens behind me. I’m grateful for the distraction because it cut off Michael’s immature insult. Of course, Justin’s heard it all before since Michael is not known for his originality. But I know my son, and so far he’s showing great restraint. I, for one, would like to keep it that way.

“Sorry, I’m a little late. I trust I didn’t miss anything of importance,” the newcomer says. He’s followed in by a few more people, all carrying either briefcases or books that look like ledgers.

“Not a problem at all, Dale,” Brian walks towards him, followed closely by Justin. Whereas Brian smirks at the man and shakes his hand, Justin reaches up and hugs the stranger. I have to admit that he’s attractive in a rugged way, but I can’t help but to wonder at the closeness the two are exhibiting.

Justin releases him with a smile in place. “Everyone, this is Dale Wexler. He’s…”

“A trick of yours, Justin?” Michael sneers. “See, Brian? I always told you that he was a whore; always for sale to the highest bidder. Do you believe me now?”

Dale reached for Justin at the same time Brian did, even as Ted, Ben, and Emmett stood up. Apparently, they also know just how close Michael is to getting clobbered right now. Melanie is also standing in preparation, although I don’t exactly know what she thinks she would be able to do should Justin get loose from all of them. I don’t have long to figure it out, and neither do the rest of them.

“Michael, if I were you, I’d really take Justin’s advice and shut the fuck up. For the record, Dale is one of Brian and Justin’s financial advisors as well as a forensic accountant.”

“What the fuck would Boy Wonder need a financial advisor for? Besides how would he even be able to afford one? It’s not like he has any money that isn’t Brian’s.”

“We’re getting to that, but first we need to discuss the house.” Mel narrows her eyes. “Don’t we, Debra?”

“What the fuck does my house have to do with why we are here? And what’s with all the calling me Debra shit. First Jennifer and now you. Stop that shit right now!”

“Well we’ve all collectively decided that the Debbie we all knew and loved has been replaced by Debra the Dumbass. So we’re addressing you as such, minus the Dumbass part, although I suspect that will be added in on more than a few occasions for the duration of this meeting. As for the house we’re speaking of, I think you know as well as we do that we’re not talking about the one here in Pittsburgh, but the one in Palm Springs, California that we’re talking about.”

“Wha… How do you know about that?”

“Funny thing about forensic accountants- they’re trained to follow the money, Debra,” Justin chimed in as he retook his seat. “The horrible thing for you- well, both of you, if I’m going to be exact here- is that we probably would have never known if Little Mikey here wasn’t caught stealing from me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Michael’s never stolen from anyone! He’s honest and…”

“A lying sack of maggot food. You wanna tell her, Michael, or shall I?” Justin asks, rhetorically. “Oh what the hell, I’ll tell her just what your little fantasy featuring Brian has cost her. Deb, it all started when Brian and I lost everything. It just so happens that Brian and I were talking when the subject of Rage came up. Michael had given me checks since the first issue totaling about $1500 since the first issue began. Well, I’d been guilty of not checking the sales behind the bastard, so that’s my fault. But the fact that he’s been cheating me since the beginning… well, that’s your greedy, chicken-hearted son’s. So to make a long story short, I had Mel look over my copy of the contract, and the one that was within her own files. We then went to the store to retrieve the ledgers after asking Ben for the code to the safe. So imagine our surprise when we showed up to Red Cape Comics thinking we were there to collect one set of ledgers, only to find out that there were two.”

“What’s that got to do with my house?”

“Uh-uh-uh, Debra. Don’t do that.” Justin says in that patronizing tone which could only belong to a WASP. I would preen at the good job I’ve done in teaching him to perfect it if the situation wasn’t so serious. “ I mean, haven’t you lied for Michael enough? But anyway, back to the story, since I’m sure it will answer your question, and then some. See that nice young lady sitting next to Mel?” Both she and Michael look and then nod before turning back to him. “Well that’s Janean Peters, and she specializes in Corporate Law. Mel brought her in when we discovered that Michael’s hidden ledgers actually contained the correct figures for the Rage profits obtained directly from the publisher. And let me tell you, it was far more than the pittance Michael paid me.”

“Is this true, Michael?” Debra looks at him questioningly. “I can’t believe you would do something like that to Sunshine.”

“I don’t know why not Debra, since you and your boy there have been pretty much running the same game on Brian. And it’s been going on for a lot more YEARS. So, back to Janean’s part in this. She hired a forensic accountant to look over the books and the locked electronic file within Michael’s computer. Don’t worry, Tweedledee,” he says, smirking at Michael. “Mel was smart enough to obtain a court order so it was all legal. But to satisfy your curiosity, Debra, during our search of where our- Yes, that’s right our, as in mine and Brian’s- money went, an official investigation was launched. So that’s how we found out about the house, which in essence Brian paid for and has been paying for since Michael found it.”

“How do you figure that?!” she screeches. I guess she still thinks that she can skate away by playing innocent.

Dale answers her. “I was brought in by Ted as a secondary, and since my company are the lenders on your mortgage, it was easy to discover that you never ran behind in your payments. But what also helped is that Ted keeps such accurate records for his clients, of which Brian is one. Every cancelled check that he’s written out to you over the years has always been postdated for the month your mortgage was paid. Same goes for Red Cape Comics. Although that happened later, and Ben Bruckner developed the habit of paying the mortgage company directly, which left Michael free to con Brian out of his hard-earned money. All in the pursuit of building a nest egg for a man who clearly doesn’t want him.”

“You’re lying! Brian does…”

“NOT WANT YOU!” Brian yelled. “I hope that finally got through to you, Michael. And while we are on that subject, tell that fucker Lance he can keep all my shit.” Michael’s eyes widen then. “Oh, you didn’t think that we knew about you burglarizing my loft and having me blame Justin for it, did you? Funny thing about that is when Hunter came back, he told us all about your time away. He also told us about the shrine of stolen goods that schmuck has in his house, courtesy of you. But you want to know what really gave you away, Michael? You and your record keeping. The Real Rage ledgers were really fucking helpful. So I’ve decided that whereas I don’t want the items back- god knows you and he have probably fucked or masturbated all over my shit- I want the money he paid you for them.”

“Then there are the blackmail payments to Claire, which actually Brian paid for. We expect that money back as well,” Justin says. “To cover my portion of Rage that you’ve stolen from me, I want the store, the current and future inventory, the rights to the comic, the collectibles you had hidden away in the apartment above the shop, and half of the others in those brand new display cases.”

“FUCK YOU! I’M NOT GIVING YOU SHIT!” Michael yells.

“Like fuck you won’t. Because make no mistake Michael, it’s either my way or jail for embezzlement. Plus you’d still have to pay me back anyway. So now would not be the time for your stubborn streak to rear its ugly head. Before, you had everyone fooled into thinking you were an idiotic, spoiled brat. But since then we’ve discovered that although you’re still idiotic, spoiled, and a fucking brat, you’re also pretty fucking smart when it saves your ass or suits your own ends. So have some fucking scruples about you now and do the right thing.”

“Bullshit! You don’t have any proof of what you’re saying. Ma, they don’t…”

“Uh, actually we do,” Mel says, as she hands them both thick sheafs of paper. “Feel free to look through them. Debra, I think you’ll especially find the information very informative. You see, while Michael was conning Brian, he was also playing you. I should mention that if you don’t sign the house over to Brian and Justin right now, you will be going to jail, no questions asked. The evidence on how you falsely obtained the money to pay for a house that Brian had no knowledge of will be quite easy to prove in a court of law, under the guise of extortion. Sure it was emotional, but with Brian's history with you, it shouldn't be too hard to convince a judge it was. As for you, Michael, upon Justin’s suggestion, you have a week to make up your mind and then an additional week to hand over all that’s been requested, before we pursue reimbursement through the legal channels. Again, you are advised that should we take this to court, you will be found guilty and not only will you have to pay Justin back, but based on the amount owed, you could be facing up to ten years in jail.”

He stands up, his fist balled and sending the chair careening into the wall behind him. Moving quickly down the aisle, he begins yelling at Justin. “I wish you had fucking DIED, you fucking punk! Chris Hobbs should have killed your sorry ass! None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for…” Michael’s tirade was cut short by the crack of fist hitting against his flesh.

None of us had seen him move. Not one of us probably would have been able to stop him if we did. Personally, I knew that Justin could defend himself, but that was a fucking mean left hook that would be worthy of any boxing ring.

“Get up!” Justin growls “Get the fuck up and repeat it again! That’s why Brian right hooked your ass at Melanie and Lindsay’s anniversary party, but this time he doesn’t have to defend me. I’m doing it myself!” And once again before anyone could get to him, he places a well-aimed kick into Michael’s midsection.

“Stop it! Stop it, Sunshine!” Debra screams as she covers Michael’s body with her own. “Brian’s rubbed off on you in the worst way. You’re a fucking animal… JUST LIKE HE IS!”

“Debra, sign the fucking paper and then take your rotten drag queen-produced offspring out of here. No wonder Danny Devore left. I wouldn’t want to be associated with that whiny weasel either. And I no longer want to be acquainted with you, so sign the fucking papers and GET THE FUCK OUT OF OUR BUILDING!” Justin yells.

“How dare you speak to me that way, Sunshine!”

“Fuck you! My name is JUSTIN! You don’t get to call me by that name or any other ever a-fucking-gain!”

Mel grabs the packet off the table, and hands Debra a pen. Using Michael’s prone form as a desk, Mel indicates every place she should sign and initial. I keep my eyes focused on Brian, who has just managed to get to Justin before he broke down. He’s holding my son’s trembling form against him, and I’m taken back to the time when Justin lashed out in a fit of temper and destroyed his room at the condo. It was that same night that I’d driven to the loft and asked Brian to help Justin… to fix him, and in a lot of ways he did. But still, the fits of rage are still new for me, and definitely hard to watch.

“Brian.” He looks at me, and my heart aches so bad for him. He’s losing the only real family he’s ever known, and all because of their greed and selfishness. “You and Justin go home. I’ll be around as soon as I finish taking care of things here.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, no doubt holding back the emotions rolling through him. The pain and heartache is written clearly across his face. But he nods before leading Justin out of the conference room.

After looking to Mel for confirmation that it’s all completed, I look to the woman still cradling her degenerate idiot against her ample bosom. “Well, you’ve heard my son, Debra. Get the fuck out! But a word of advice, do it quietly, or Michael won’t be the only one leaving here with bruises. Do we understand each other?” She glares at me, but I don’t bat an eyelash.

Part of me really wants her to say something as simple as ‘Boo’ so I can put her on her ass next to Michael. But the other part of me acknowledges and accepts that I’ve just lost a friend, if I can even call her that. Honestly, I don’t think I ever knew her at all, and that just makes me feel sad. But after what Michael said about my son, I swear by all that is Holy, should he or she ever- and I do mean EVER- speak harshly of Justin, or Brian, in my presence, I will give into every violent tendency I have within me right now. Nobody gets to fuck with MY sons! NOBODY!

CHAPTER 20: IT AIN’T NO GAME. IT’S A LOVE THING (Splatterday continues)

EMMETT:

Honestly, I’m not sure what to think or feel right now. But the one thing I am sure of is that I’m so fucking proud of Baby. Had I known that Michael said that shit about him at the anniversary party, I would have punched his ass out myself. I mean the absolute NERVE to wish someone dead like that, especially someone that all of us care about! One thing’s for certain though, we all owe Big Bad a huge apology. We all should have asked what had happened, instead of automatically believing that Michael was completely innocent; something we are learning that he isn’t, more and more by the minute. I will be having a serious talk and groveling session with Brian Kinney when we are through here, and by the looks of it, I won’t be the only one.

“Before they are kicked out of here for good, I would like to say something,” Hunter speaks up. I can see that Michael’s words to Brian that fateful day have affected him far more than the rest of us, and that’s saying a whole lot.

“Shuzz da fucks up, you liddle thit! Thish ish all yourz fault!” Michael slurs. “Mas, I shthink my noz ish bwoke!”

“And that’s not all that’s going to be broke if you speak to my son that way again!” Ben yells at him. WOW! Zen Ben has obviously left the building to be replaced with Battering Ram Ben if his balled fist are any indication. Michael would do well to shut what they call the fuck up, before those hammers pick up where Justin left off!

“My fault?! My fault! Really?” Hunter’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And I suppose that I’m the one who dragged you off to Lance’s house! I must be the one who played the dirtiest tricks on my supposed best friend and his partner! But most of all, I must have acted as my own fucking…”

The room went silent as Hunter’s sentence drifted off. What the fuck has Michael done to the boy?? Realization dawns in each of our eyes, as we see his downcast face. “Oh my fucking God! Michael, you didn’t! Tell me right fucking now that you didn’t do THAT!” I scream. I am barely containing the anger I feel already, but to find out that Michael…

“He owed mez and stillsh doesh! He’sh just a whoresh anywaysh so I made him paysh hish way! Bigsh fucking dealsh!” he spits, and it takes both Ted and Ben to hold me back. I want to rip his mini-marbles off and put them in his nostrils, then take a hammer to the back of his fucking head to knock them out! How dare he? HOW DARE HE?!!!!!

Ben looks over to that bastard, even as I feel his restraining hand on my arm, trying to still the angry tremors I feel coursing through me. “Michael, you will be hearing from our attorney. Not only will I be suing you for the mortgage payments, but we will be pressing charges against you in a civil suit as well for emotional damage. It really should be that we’re pressing criminal charges, but I don’t want to put Hunter through a public trial. God knows he’s already been through enough!”

I can’t believe how calm he sounds even though I know differently. I mean, just when you think you know the worst about Michael, you find yet another layer of duplicity. I can’t believe we were all fooled by this… this…. “ASSHOLE! Michael, you are such an asshole! And so are you Debra, for sticking by the little bastard you birthed! I can’t believe we ever EVER considered you someone we could count on. But as long as we were taking care of that little fucking ingrate, all was right in your world, right? RIGHT?!!” I can’t even contain the hurt and fury I feel right now.

“Calm down, Em,” Ted says in a low whisper. “I think she knows what kind of person Michael is at long last. You know it’s funny, but Blake tried to tell me. So did Justin, but I thought they were exaggerating. No way could someone I considered a friend be that vindictive, right? I owe both of them, in addition to Brian, a big apology.”

“What the fuck are you apologizing to Brian for, Ted?” Deb asks in shock. “Michael is the one…”

“Who is the cause of all this drama!” Teddy yells at her. The way Deb just froze at Teddy’s raised voice would be funny if this wasn’t so serious. His reacquaintance with Dale is already working wonders… just saying. He huffs before continuing. “And just as the rest of us have been his flunkies, you’ve been the biggest one of all. I mean, seriously Deb, when the fuck are you going to wake the hell up?! Because of his machinations, you would have been thrown in fucking jail over a house that he never intended for you to live in, much less visit. How can you be so blind?!”

“But…”

“He’s right, Sis,” Vic informs her.

“So you’re siding with them? Against your own flesh and blood? Whatever happened to blood being thicker than water, huh Vic? But here you are standing against us, and for what?”

“I’m not taking sides, Deb, except the side of the truth. Since that also includes a healthy dose of decency and order, which the two of you lack, I suppose you would see it that way. And with good reason! Sis, Michael never intended for your help to be repaid. Just as you think everyone owes you, so does he. And that includes you most of all just for giving his sorry ass life. The only thing you have left to your name is your house because everything else, you’ve given over to him.”

“What the hell do you mean by that, Vic?!" she screeches, and I swear I just wish I had a fucking muzzle right now.

“It means that whatever dignity you’ve always claimed to have, you handed over to Michael a long fucking time ago. Your self-respect has also been missing for as long as I can remember. He’s used you to the point that after this, you’re going to lose everything you’ve ever held dear. Hell, Sis, you lost Michael when he was sixteen!”

“Yeah, to Brian fucking Kinney!”

“No, to his own selfish ass!” Vic yells back, and then takes a calming breath. “Think, Sis. THINK! For once in your life, try to see things clearly where Michael is concerned. How do you think Claire was able to start blackmailing Michael since he was sixteen, Deb?”

“She’s been blackmailing him? All this time?”

“Yeah, she has. But once again, you didn’t pay attention, did you? It didn’t concern you personally so you tuned your ears out to information, which actually would have helped you see just how far Michael had fallen. Did you know that Michael was the one to tell Jack about Brian’s scholarship hopes right before the night of his big game? He also told Jack about Brian’s part-time job. You do remember me and Michael taking him to the hospital that night, don’t you? You had a double shift at the Diner because there was a stomach flu epidemic going through the place and everyone except you, Tom, and Lucy had it. She worked the day, you and she worked the evening, but then you worked the overnight by yourself. Brian ended up with three broken ribs, a broken left wrist, and a fractured ankle, which he refused to sit out of the game for. But with all of that against him, he still earned that scholarship anyway. Remember? Well, that was just one of Michael’s efforts in a long list of things to try and tie Brian to him. It’s also just one of the situations Claire has been hanging over Michael’s head for all these years.

"There are others, many of which resulted in Brian getting his ass kicked by those drunken assholes he had the misfortune of being birthed to, and Michael used every single one to his best advantage. But Claire knew that if Brian found out what Michael had been up to- what he had DONE- then Michael could kiss his friendship goodbye, not to mention his delusions of being Mrs. Brian Kinney. I refuse to call them dreams because contrary to Michael's opinion, and apparently yours, that shit was never ever going to come true!"

“Yeth it was!” Michael protests.

“No the fuck it was NOT!” Vic retorts, before turning his attention back to Debra. "By the way, here’s another bit of information that you didn’t think applied to you, although it’s in the packet you received. Michael transferred the ownership title of Claire’s house into your name as well. He’s been setting you up to take the fall all this time, in case he was caught, and you didn’t even know it. Well congratulations, Sis. You wanted your son to be a mama’s boy, and you got it in spades. Only it wasn’t in the way you thought, where you could control him and keep him right where you’ve always wanted him, which is attached to you and sucking the proverbial milk from your tits. You see, just as you are an expert at manipulation and getting what you want through emotional blackmail, so is he. The thing is that it’s become evident that the student has surpassed the teacher. Good job!”

“The only thing he wasn’t counting on is that we would find out all of this, and ultimately force you to sign everything over to Brian or risk jail time. Right, Michael? You thought that your mother’s gift for self-preservation would never exclude you since you are her baby, right?” Mel gloats. “If she decides to stand by you now, that’s her choice, but it would also be a stupid one. However, although we are technically done with her, you are a different matter. I would suggest you leave and have your face looked at. You look like a raccoon that has seen better days.”

“I’z goshinto sue thatsh liddle fucksh!” Michael declares.

Mel laughs. “Don’t even think about suing Justin for whatever damage he’s done to you. Mitigating circumstances won’t even have to cover half the reason he hit you for the judge. But rest assured, he’d get off without jail time or a fine just based off our witness testimonies. And trust me when I tell you that we are all prepared to do that. However, in your case, you’ll be carted off the jail immediately once the truth of your assholeness comes out. Is that a risk you are willing to take?”

I have to hand it to Melanie. It’s something that I was wondering about as well. I mean, I know in theory that Michael was wrong to say what he did, but the resulting assault from Justin is a horse of a different color. Granted we all are just about a step away from commiting justifiable homicide, especially Jennifer, if the visual daggers she’s throwing Deb and Michael’s way are any indication. But I just couldn’t see it in terms of how the law may look at such a situation. The bottom line is that Michael kept striking out at Justin, and for the first time ever, he hit back. Literally. Surely the powers that be would’ve seen that he was provoked beyond that which any normal human being could, should, or would take?

“You’ll be back. You’ll all be back when all your plans blow up in your face. But you know what? You can count me out of it! I’m not saving you from yourselves ever again,” Deb threatens.

“In retrospect Debra, it’s apparent that you never did save anyone except your own ass or that of your small-minded clone with the broken nose,” Jennifer tells her. “Now if you don’t mind, we all have places to be and things to do that no longer include you. So be so kind as to leave… NOW!”

We watch as Debbie rolls her eyes at Jenn and breezes out of the conference room, leaving Michael to run behind her, pleading that she takes him to the emergency room. “Ma! I can’tsh divesh likesh thish. Pleash!”

I don’t know whether she will or not, but one thing is certain. She now has all of the information she needs to either keep being strangled by that invisible umbilical cord, as Justin puts it, or to finally let him take his hard knocks the way we all have had to do. And she has to make that decision without the safety net we’ve all provided for her over the years; we’re not going to be at her beck and call anymore. I don’t envy her.

BRIAN:

It always amazes me that even when justified, Justin always feels guilty for losing his temper. All the way home, I could feel the shame, hurt, and anger radiating off of him in waves. He has nothing to apologize for, although I know he’s thinking he should. Perhaps it’s part of his upbringing which causes him to feel like he’s at fault. I watched when his father pulled the same type of shit on him because he decided to live his own life, and not the one Craig Taylor had laid out for him. But just as I was then, I’m so fucking proud of him for standing up for what he believes in. He did something that in all the years I’ve known the Novotnys, I’ve never had the courage to do. He walked away with his head held high, and hasn't looked back. And now I’m so fucking grateful to him for teaching me how, and being the example for me to follow to break free of the emotional bondage they had me in. Same goes for my situation with Lindsay.

I’m not going to lie. That hurt for me to do, but it was totally necessary for my own sanity. But it's not my fault that I had to turn my back on her; that was all her. The entitlement issues she's always had are what really got the best of her this time. She was, once again, going to use Gus for nefarious purposes. What kind of father would I be if I allowed that to happen, or should I say, continue? I’ll never say that I am the best father, because surely I’m not. But I love my son with my whole heart, and I couldn’t stand by watching him be used to line Lindsay’s pockets yet again.

Mel told me about the ten-thousand dollars worth of new clothes and shoes she’d hidden in Gus’ closet. That doesn’t even include the clothes that she’d acquired from her john. For all her ‘Mother Earth’ appearances, Lindsay was a madam. The only difference is that she wasn’t running a brothel with other woman included. Oh no. She was the main whore herself! I'm trying not to think of what she'll have to do in prison just to survive what will be her new day-to-day. That shit will turn my stomach, even more than the fact that I'd slept with her in college did. It's why I fucked everything that moved and had a cock when I left her dorm room.

It’s sad to think that the two people I considered my closest friends- my family- are assholes that I never really knew at all. But what hurts me the most out of all of this is the loss of Deb. To think that she would do this to me, and all in an effort to keep Michael close, is painful in ways that no one can even imagine. I trusted her! I believed in her! I wanted to believe that I was valued for more than my bank account. It’s why I had no problem lending her money when she said she was short on cash. I wasn’t trying to buy her love; I thought I already had it. But it was a lie. A lie… A FUCKING LIE!

“Brian?”

I close my eyes, before turning from the bay windows in the loft to see Sunshine standing there. Just seeing him standing there in my sweats and tee is a balm to the daggers I feel piercing my heart at the thought of their betrayal. I like who I am becoming with him. The old me would have gone on a self-destructive binge by now, thinking that there is some sort of defect within me that makes me the target of such perfidy. But I know now that there isn’t. Justin makes me know that in so many ways. Just him being here, willing to hold my hand right now when my entire foundation is crumbling beneath me, means so fucking much. I have to…

I cross the room to him, urgency lading in each footstep. Before he can ask any questions, I’m kissing him, trying to convey everything I feel for him in this moment. Justin is my rock and my fortress; a force that guides me, and keeps me safe. I’ve wanted to tell him just that so many times, but… It’s funny that the one person who I was reluctant to give power over me, is the same person who would never hurt me willingly. Yet the others whose hold on me was so strong- those whose words and deeds I’ve trusted over and over again- are the ones I should have pushed away. I pull Justin to me even closer, using my tongue to draw his inherent strength into me. I need it; I need his kindness and goodness. I need…

I lead him up to the bed, undressing him slowly as I go. His strong arms release me long enough to pull his shirt over his head, before pulling me close again. Laying him down onto the bed, I quickly discard the sweatpants, exposing him fully to me. There are times when the world feels as if it stops spinning when I’m with him. This is one of those times. His skin is creamy, almost luminescent in the way it glows in its ethereal beauty. I’ve never been a poet, never proclaimed to even own softer feelings in any way, shape, or form. I mean me and the word soft in the same sentence have never been intimately acquainted. But if there was a way to describe the heart and soul of the beautiful man beneath me, that would be it.

“Brian, I…”

‘Shh. Let me…” I kiss him again deeply, slowing the urgency of the past few minutes down to a pace I know he secretly loves, but never admits to.

Finding the spot on his neck that drives him to distraction, I lav my tongue across repeatedly, listening to all those delightful little gasps until he lets out a lusty moan. Moving down his torso, I stop to pay homage to each of his taut nips, almost sighing in pleasure as he twines his fingers in my hair to hold me there. They grip and flex against my scalp in reaction to the tongue flicks and little bites I place there. All the while his moans are becoming louder in a panting rhythm. Justin is the only man I’ve ever known who can have a spontaneous orgasm from just having his nipples played with. In the past, I’ve used that knowledge as a form of orgasm denial, but today, I want him to cum in a different way.

So I leave there, constantly applying my tongue to various spots on his body that I know spike his arousal to a fever pitch. His third rib on either side; the left side of his navel; his right pelvic bone… all serve as a roadmap to getting the results I want. Bypassing his groin for the interim, I kiss and suck the inside of his thigh until I leave a little red mark on the flesh of his skin. It will be a constant reminder of this moment for at least a week, but one that I also know he won’t forget even long after its faded. While bringing his left leg up over my shoulder, I reach for the lube on my nightstand. At this moment, I’m ever so glad that we changed to the kind that pumps instead of squeezes. It makes short work to coat my fingers and get them inside of him, where they long to be.

Justin gasps as I rim his exposed hole with my forefinger. I like this position with him for so many reasons, but the primary one is the fact that I can look into his glazed eyes as he licks those tempting lips of his. Holding his gaze, I slowly take his cock into my mouth. His silent ‘oh’ has me ready to explode, even as I feel his dick getting harder. Beginning a slow, tortuous rhythm, I take him all the way down my throat, flexing the muscles there before sliding back up to the tip. His fingers in my hair trying to force me to take a faster approach, but I hold the pace while pinning his hips to the bed. For several long minutes, I keep Justin on edge, wanting him to know that just being near him does the same to me. Just being with him like this leaves me both satisfied and wanting more.

Finally I hear him beg for surcease and release, babbling almost incoherently of his love for me. I’m almost ashamed to admit that when he used to do that, I couldn’t understand how he could love me when he didn’t really know me. But he did. Even then he knew what I wanted, but wouldn’t allow myself to acknowledge. Now I will. So help me, I will never let those words leave his lips in vain ever again. He’ll know that they are returned a million fold if it takes the rest of my life to prove it to him.

I grab a condom, handing it over to him. He knows this routine, and smiling he performs the task. Having Justin’s hand roll the rubber down my length is almost like having him jerk me off. When he adds the little twist at the base, well it takes everything in me not to cum every single time. I enter him slowly, allowing his body to adjust to the intrusion. I don’t know how, but he’s as hot and tight as the night I met him. No matter how many times, or how hard and fast we fuck, Justin’s ass always grips me just right.

Once I bottom out, I lay here on top of him, nose-to-nose, just looking. I hope that he can hear all the things I can’t say, especially in this moment. I guess he did because when he closes his eyes and sighs before bringing our lips together again, I could almost feel the relief and gratitude that we’re here together pour from him. Whatever tension he had from today’s contretemps has officially ebbed, and I’ve never been happier.

I begin to move in the rhythm that our bodies know so well, leading him through the new landscape of where I want us to be from now on. I keep the movements shallow at first, before deepening them and adding a snap to my hips at the last moment. Justin is mine! In every way that matters, he belongs to me, and in turn, I’m his. There are no strings, but we have an unbreakable bond, and have since night one. I change the depth and pace to convey that and can feel his body’s franticness in response. I’m not giving him a moment to think and regroup, but demand that he follow my lead this time.

For too long, Justin has been light-years ahead of me regarding what’s between him and I. He wouldn’t let up, knowing that what we’ve found with each other was more than just special. It was magic; it still is. But it’s time for me to be the man he’s always believed me to be. Time for me to be the man who is so much more than having sex without a conscience. It’s not only what Justin deserves, but what I’ve earned.

“MINE! Say it, Justin. Say that you’re mine.” I demand as I pick up the pace once again. All these internal thoughts and feelings are making me feel that I need to stake my claim.

“Yours, Brian. I was always yours. You just… you just needed to know it for yourself.”

“I’m never. NEVER. FUCKING. LETTING. YOU. GO. AGAIN! You are…”

“I know. Please, Bri...I need to…”

“Promise me, Jus. PROMISE dammit!” And I know that he knows what I’m asking. I can’t see his face for the tears clouding my vision. I’m so fucking scared of this thing between us, and yet I’ve never felt so powerful as I do right now. All these conflicting emotions and the fact that…

“I won’t, Brian. I would never ever betray you. I love you. You know that, right?”

And looking down into his eyes full of unshed tears, I know beyond a shadow of doubt that he understands everything I’ve been trying to get across to him. My world as I knew it just got narrowed down to two- Justin and Gus. The others, although I care for them all a great deal, will never mean more to me than the man straining beneath me, and my son. They are my entire universe. And as I release into Justin while his tribute pools on his chest, I feel a completion that I’ve never expected to feel in my life. I feel healed in spite of all that’s happened today and will occur in the coming days until this storm in our lives is over. I feel ready for the battle of whatever comes in the future that will try to break us up. I feel whole, and it feels fucking amazing!

“I love you too, Justin. For now and always.”  

CHAPTER 21: THE ANTI-MICHAEL, CAPTAIN P.I.T.A., and MIKEY Jr.

JUSTIN:

Monday happened up a little too early for mine and Brian’s liking. Although we were tired as hell, we still had everyone over to the loft yesterday. It was apparent that we were all still reeling from the confrontations from Saturday. The bright spot was that Mel had brought Gus with her so Brian and I didn’t have too much time to be melancholy about Deb and Michael. That little boy can bring a bright spot to any situation. He has such a sunny disposition that it’s infectious. I hope as he grows older, he stays that way.

“You need an assistant, Sunshine,” Brian tells me as we walk into the building which houses Vanguard Advertising.

“I know, but Cynthia is working out quite well for both of us. Why are you bringing this up now?”

“Because technically Kinnetik just grew monumentally, which means a lot more staff and departments. We’re all pretty much doing double duty, except Ted who has the monumental tasks of handling both Kinnetik’s money and our personal finances. Cynthia is the Chief of Operations, which means the bulk of the duties for Human Resources also falls to her. Plus she’s still going to be working as my personal assistant. No way am I replacing her. You’re going to be running both the Art and Media departments, plus working as the co-CEO of Kinnetik, which means you’ll be traveling with me, and in rare instances separately. Hence the reason you need an assistant.”

“Uh-huh, and I take it you already have miracle worker in mind?”

“I do, and it’s someone I’m sure you’ll get along famously with,” he tells me as we step off the elevator.

“As long as it’s not some pretentious jackass like Avery or some wannabe-WASP like Lindsay, I’m sure I’ll survive”

“You should thank your fucking stars that I’m not like either of those two idiots,” comes the familiar voice behind me. “Hi, Brian.”

“DAPH!”

“In the flesh!”

“A pleasure to see you as always, Darling,” Brian drawls before placing a kiss on her cheek. “If I ever switch teams, I’m coming for you.”

She snickers as she blushes as usual. “I’m counting on it, Hot Stuff.”

“Oh my God! What are you doing here?”

“I believe Brian just told you,” she says as she hugs me back tightly.

“You?”

“Well don’t sound so surprised, Jus.”

“I thought you were following the plan and becoming a doctor.”

“That was the plan, but it will just take too damn long. Besides, I took a page from your book and got up the courage to tell my parents what I wanted to do.”

“I’m so sorry that I missed your graduation, Daph. But we needed the money and I couldn’t afford to take the time off.” She waves that way. Although there were few opportunities to see each other over the past year, she and I still spoke frequently. But she didn’t tell me any of this. “So, how did they take it?”

“Pretty well, actually. They told me that as long as I obtained a lucrative and permanent position within the year, they wouldn’t push the issue. Sure, I could have succeeded in the medical field, but I just didn’t want to wait until I was almost thirty to feel some ease. It was a pain in the ass to take all of those AP business courses when we were Hades High, but I’m grateful that I passed every single one. It allowed me to graduate an entire year earlier than if I’d tried to transfer all of my pre-med credits.

"When I ran into your mom a few weeks ago, she told me that you and Brian had started up Kinnetik, but that it would take some time before you guys would be able to hire other employees. So imagine my surprise when I get a call from your sexy partner- whose voice I must say even oozes sex over the phone- to tell me of a new position that just opened up within your company.”

I can’t help it. I throw myself into Brian’s arms and kiss the hell out of him. Not only for what he’s done for Daph, but because he knew I would need someone around me who understands the way I work. She’ll also be able to calm me down when I get too wound up, and am on the verge of panicking; a task which has fallen to Brian and Cynthia these past weeks. Like Cynthia does for Brian, Daphne won’t allow me to keep my head in my ass past a few minutes before kicking me back into work mode. Between the two of them, Brian and I will keep the focus on the task at hand, instead of splitting apart into a million pieces. It’s an awesome responsibility.

“Have you taken a course in Human Resources Management yet?” Brian asks her.

“That’s the class that put me over the edge to graduate a year early, It was always the plan that when I received my Medical license that I would go into private practice. My mom didn’t want me to make the same mistake she did in trusting the office assistant completely, and not paying attention until something big happens. So she made it mandatory that I take that class so I would never just leave the hiring of employees to someone else.”

“I knew you would be perfect for this, Daphne. I want you to sit in on the meetings next to Cynthia this morning. First, we’re going to be going over Vanguard’s employee files before bringing them in. Cynthia and I already have some ideas on who we want to keep, promote, and fire immediately, but I want to see what you think of them. Justin is going to have his own administrative staff within the Art and Media departments. It will be your job as his assistant to keep them in line, or write them up.”

“Don’t worry about it, Brian. Justin will vouch for me that I do not accept mediocrity. It’s why I had a real problem with the pretentious ass who shall remain nameless. I hear that his cousin has already been fired.”

I laugh. “How did you hear that I canned Avery? That just happened on Friday.”

“There’s a saying that goes when you want to talk shit, always check behind you. He came into the coffeeshop and met the ass, going on and on about you and your lack of decorum, and how you were trying to be a Kinney, junior. Well let’s just say, I wasn’t having any of that.”

“What did you do?” Now I know my best friend. She will defend me at all costs, even if she catches a criminal charge behind it. She’s also smart enough to talk her way out of trouble, but ballsy enough to admit that she did it if she’s pissed off enough.

“Well, let’s just say that I doubt they will look at another cup of hot latte and not think of me. I also doubt that they will be using their dicks for anything other than to pee for quite some time.” And how she looks so innocent while saying that as Brian and I stand here wincing at the imagery, I will never know.

“Memo to self: Do NOT piss Daphne off. My dick is way too valuable to Justin to be burnt at will.”

“Good on you to remember that,” she says, laughing.

“And here I thought Cynthia was the only woman of your acquaintance besides my mom that could make your balls shrivel.” I laugh. “I think I’ll keep her around.”

“Sunshine, it’s not nice to mention my balls and shrivel in the same sentence. You’re going to pay for that later, naughty boy.”

“Hmm, why do you think I did it?” I reach over to kiss him.

“Alright, you two, let’s get to work.” Daphne says, putting the brakes on what was sure to be a very hot kiss.

“She’s channelling Cynthia already.” I shiver as Brian nods.

“Indeed. There will never be a dull moment, that’s for sure.” He laughs, “I can’t wait to see the terror she unleashes on the staff.”

And knowing Daphne the way I do, neither can I. She may look sugary sweet, but Daphne has bite. She’s spicy and sassy; there is no middle ground with her. The worst thing anyone can do is think she’s a pushover and underestimate her. Daphne is what my grandmother used to call a scrapper. She’ll push, shove, and will run roughshod over anything that gets in her way. The people within these walls are about to find out just how ruthless this sweet-looking young lady can be. I chuckle to myself. Let the asskicking and housecleaning commence!

CYNTHIA:

Well, I have officially met the Anti-Michael. I’ll admit that upon meeting Justin’s best friend and new assistant, Daphne Chanders, I didn’t know what to expect. Lord knows that it’s been downright wonderful to have a whine-free zone with a whole lot less clinginess. I would have probably quit if I had to go back to that at this juncture. I love Brian and Justin, and definitely love working with them, but if there is one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s that I am responsible for my own mental health… and Michael Novotny, his mother, and that cooing bitch Lindsay, have tested mine more days than not!

But getting to know Daphne is quite eye-opening, and honestly, a game-changer. She looks a lot like Justin. Not in facial features or skin color or anything like that, but in that innocent-looking quality they both possess. One wouldn’t automatically know that behind the sweet looks, there are not only agile minds, but very astute ones as well. They look unassuming, and yet are completely implacable in what they want or expect. I’ve taken to calling them mini-Brian and mini-Cynthia in my head because they do indeed remind me of the way people used to view Brian and I before people finally got hip to the fact that, behind the facades were a couple of very shrewd people. Perhaps it’s a WASP thing, but a whole lot of people are about to be blindsided by these two sharks-in-training.

It was decided that whereas Brian and I would handle the Ad, Finance, and Legal Departments with Harold’s help, Justin and Daphne would deal with the Art and Media Departments. After reviewing each file and taking copious amounts of notes, Daphne would ask Brian and I what our history was like with each of the employees. At first, I’ll admit that I didn’t understand what she was doing, but as each person was called before us, it became clear. She had spoken with Justin at some point, and they were not only deciding who they were keeping on staff, but weeding out the ones who could work in the building that we were going to be in. They didn’t just want people who were going to work hard. No, they wanted to know who had vision and who didn’t. The ones who were good, but couldn’t come up with their own concepts to save their lives would remain here. However, those who were driven and wouldn’t mind putting their own ideas up against any ad execs within the company, including Brian, were the people Justin wanted working directly on his team. It was a unique concept, and would surely become the new model by which Kinnetik would not only become a one-of-a-kind company, but one that had the unlimited potential for global success. So Brian and I began to do the same.

I think the thing that surprised Brian and me the most was how much Daphne really knew about art. One would think that most of her knowledge would be based on her friendship with Justin, but it’s an assumption that would be dead wrong. While looking at different campaigns done at Vanguard’s art department, both- and yes I mean BOTH- managed to spot several mistakes and ‘borrowed’ techniques from other ads they’ve seen many times. Some of them even bordered on copyright infringement to a severe degree. It was a situation that would NOT be tolerated going forward. Even the cookie cutter accounts would be held to a high standard- much higher than they were used to under Gardner’s rule. Which brings us to the next two people to come in.

Bob and Brad Nelson did everything together. They ate together, worked together, lived together. Brian had often remarked aloud that they probably even fucked together in the same bed with their bobbsey twin wives- an image I can assure you I did not need. The problem here is that they also fucked up together… over and over, and each time was worse than the last. Even in the days of Ryder, Bob (the ad exec) and Brad (the artist) just couldn’t ever seem to get it right. Brian had refused on many occasions to work with them, and now that he was in charge of the company, the results wouldn’t be any different.

“We brought the two of you in here to personally tell you that you’re fired,” Brian says, barely containing his glee at finally being able to do what he’s longed to do for a little more than ten years.

“Uh, last we heard you were the one fired, Brian. Don’t tell us that Gardner relented and gave you your job back?” Brad sneers. Wrong move!

“Hello, Bob and Brad. I’m not sure you remember me…”

Bob snickers. “The most infamous intern since Monica Lewinsky? Who could ever forget you?”

Instead of getting upset, Justin smiles. I swear he needs to teach me how to freeze my face like that. It’s all ‘butter wouldn’t melt’, but this is apparently lost on the two jackasses whose jobs he holds in the palm of his hand. However, I’m surprised when it’s Daphne who takes over.

“Be that as it may, we are also the people now in charge of staffing for the company formerly known as Vanguard Advertising. The new company, Kinnetik, is a unique organization with a very discerning client list. That said, as Brian has mentioned, you are BOTH fired. Brian and Justin only want innovative people working for them, and the fact that your ideas border on copyright infringement lets all of us know that the one brain cell you obviously share between you is not only defective, but it also stopped working, oh say, around the time you left your mother’s womb. Please make sure that we have the correct inbreeding site- oops, I meant to say your home address- on file, so that we can get your final checks in the mail today. Your personal effects have already been cleared out of your desks by security,” she informs them, and honestly, it’s taking everything in me not to laugh. If she didn’t sound like Brian just now, I don’t know who would have. Inbreeding site, indeed!

“In other words, let the doorknob hit you, where your wives should have bit you,” Brian adds. “Goodbye.”

“You let that little girl playing at being an adult talk to us like that?! She doesn’t even look old enough to work here! You’ll be hearing from our attorney, Brian.” Brad threatens.

“We’ll look forward to it,” Justin answers for them both. “Would you like a copy of the work that’s causing your termination? I’m sure if your Cracker-Jack box attorney drinks Coca-Cola he’ll find your imitation of their polar bear concept a hoot. Same goes for several other well-named brands. What? No original response? Why is that not shocking? Bye Dumb and Dumber, but you really can’t call yourselves that either, can you? You know, because of that pesky copyright law and all. Guess you’ll have to come up with a new name while you take your pitiful show on the road, Good day!”

As they close the door behind them, I look at those innocent looking firebrands. “Jesus, you two leave nothing but the bones, do you?”

They smile and Brian laughs. “You should see them when they’re angry.”

No thank you!

MICHAEL:

“If he thinks that I’m taking this bullshit lying down, he’s a fucking fool!” I yell as I pace around the apartment I used to share with Ben.

I finally had a chance to go through the packet Brian and Boy Wonder handed me and Ma. I’m still having a hard time figuring out just how they acquired all this information. It makes me wonder just how much more they know. I wonder if Lance can hack into their computers to see what else they’ve found. Brian has to have a friend outside of me that I didn’t know about, and that’s just not allowed. As soon as I figure out who the fucking person is, they will have a whole list of problems to do deal with. I’ll see to it!

“AND HOW THE FUCK DID THEY FIGURE OUT THE PASSWORD TO THE SECRET FILE?!”

I am interrupted by the pounding on my door. When I stomp over to it, I am faced with the landlord and his smarmy smile. “Mr. Novotny, it is my great pleasure to tell you that you have been evicted.” he says as he hands me the yellow slip.

“What? What the hell are you talking about? My rent is paid up through the next six months!” I begin to peruse the paper.

“Be that as it was, the money has been returned to its rightful owner, and you have been ordered to vacate the premises within the next three days. Since the mail is overflowing your mailbox downstairs, I took the liberty of having a new slip drawn up.”

“What do you mean the rightful owner? That money…”

“Came from Benjamin Bruckner’s account, and has been returned to him upon his voluntary removal from the premises. That said, the new owner of the building felt that you are an undesirable, and since several of the tenants here agree with her, you are being evicted. As a parting gift, a number of the tenants got together and put together a list of places that may have vacancy.”

A number of the suggestions included returning to Ma’s house and Hell. There was even the suggestion that I shit myself out of my own ass and then put myself back in there since it’s all I’m worth. I roll my eyes at the man. “Well who’s the new owner? I would like to speak with them immediately. Evicting me within three days is highly illegal.”

“Not particularly, since the date on the notice is actually predated from the date that Mr. Bruckner, who was well-liked, moved out. Had you been here to open your mail, you would have received it the very next day.”

“WHAT?!” I gasp. There is no way this was fucking legal, and I tell him so. “Ben only moved out…”

“Four weeks ago last Saturday, Mr. Novotny. The new owner actually granted you a grace period of five days past the noted day of eviction, in an effort to seem gracious.”

“Gracious, my ass! This is…”

“Perfectly legal. It’s no one’s fault but your own that you were away, nor is it anyone else’s fault that you were neglectful in picking up your mail. You have three days. I would suggest the name of a moving company, but well… I really don’t like you. Good riddance to bad rubbish, and about time too!” He laughs as he heads back downstairs.

I look at the name of the company who now owns the building, and want to destroy everything in this fucking place! I am so tired of this bitch fucking with my life! As I get ready to hurl the glass of vodka I was nursing, I calm down enough to think of how I can work this to my advantage. Narrowing my eyes, a slow smile creeps onto my face. He wouldn’t want to see me homeless, now would he? Catching a glimpse of myself into the mirror, I realize what a bad idea that was since I fucking scared myself. Both of my eyes are black and my nose is covered by a thick white cast. But fuck it! He owes me!

With that thought firmly in mind, I grab my jacket and make my way out the door. This is my chance to take back what’s mine!

DAPHNE:

I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a day more, and it’s not even half over. Tomorrow we have to come back to the office formerly known as Vanguard. There is still more housecleaning to do, the picking of department heads, and the like. But right now, we’re heading over to the other building, where I’ll be spending the bulk of my time. I still can’t believe Brian and Justin bought the building where they first had sex in public. It definitely gives new meaning to the phrase putting on good karma.

We decide to take Brian and Justin’s new SUV when Justin stops short. As I careen into the back of him, I begin to understand why as the low growl beside me emits from Brian. No that little fuck did NOT! He thinks he can do this! Justin narrows his eyes and straightens his spine, and I recognize the WASP cloaking maneuver immediately, so I do the same. Before Cynthia even has a chance to asks what is going on, Justin decides to get the confrontation over with.

“What the hell are you doing here, Ethan? And why the hell are you sitting your scrawny ass on our vehicle?” If Justin is as angry as Brian looks, we all may be hiding a body before too long.

“No kiss for me, Justin? It wasn’t too long ago that you would greet me with a kiss,” he goads, looking to Brian for his reaction.

“No, that was you forcing them on me trying to stake a claim which in reality, you never had. Besides that, it still doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t be here.”

“Sure, I should. We have important matters to discuss.”

“Like?”

“Like how you could go back to the whore standing beside you. Justin, we both know that he can’t give you what I can; what you want. Besides money, he can’t give you all the things your little heart desires. I’m here to offer you a chance to correct another of your monumental mistakes and save face. Come back to me. I promise I’ll never cheat again, unlike Brian, who can’t keep his dick out of someone else’s ass to save his life.”

“Ethan, the day I left your lying, cheating ass was the day I corrected the most monumental mistake of my life.”

“How?! By going back to the Whore of Liberty Avenue?”

I can tell that this needs to be wrapped up quickly since we’re already drawing the interest of an unwanted audience. If word gets out that there is trouble within Kinnetik’s management, even if it has nothing to do with work, the foundation of power we are trying to establish will already be on shaky ground. I pull on the back of Justin's suit jacket. “Justin…”

“Let me handle this?” Brian interrupts, never taking his eyes off the chin-rat bastard steadily making his way towards Justin. “Please, let me…”

I don’t think I have ever heard Brian ask in such a tone before. There’s a couple of underlying notes to his voice that make me wonder if something is going on between them of which I’m unaware. On the surface, there is a pleading note, which in and of itself is shocking, but there is also a confidence there that is hard to miss. It’s like Brian knows that whatever bullshit Ethan spouts won’t make a bit of difference to Justin. Considering where they were within their relationship a mere year ago, I would be apt to believe wholeheartedly in miracles.

Justin looks to Brian, having a silent conversation. They are the only two people I have ever seen do that, and it always leads them to some unforeseen understanding. It’s fascinating to watch, and yet in a way, so sad. It often creates a longing within those of us who have observed it that we would find something similar; but the chance of that happening is almost nil. For my part, I noticed it even the night Justin stole Brian’s tricks, before Brian stole him back from them. The heated look they shared spoke volumes, without a word exchanged between them. Emmett, who was also there the second night Brian took Justin home with him, said that it also happened the morning after the Rage party, across the crowded Diner. He said that whatever was said between them charged the air, as if lightning was flashing within the building. He used the term filled silence when he told me about it, and I thought he was exaggerating. But now, watching the interplay of soundless words and emotions, I can believe it.

Justin nods, placing a hand behind Brian’s neck and bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. I don’t know if I sighed aloud, but my heart sure did. I wish some man would offer to defend me that way. “Go ahead, Brian,” he whispers, with their lips barely touching. “Just remember who I’m going home with.”

Turning to face his nemesis, Brian smiles. Now ordinarily, Brian has such a nice smile when we see it, which isn’t often enough, if you were to ask me. But right now, if I was Ethan I would be very afraid of seeing it. Brian has been known to be quite ruthless in business, but when it comes to defending Justin… well, let’s just say, I wonder if I ever took the shovel out of my car. Ethan is about to die. Now whether it be from the verbal dagger Brian is about to stick and twist in him, or from the mighty fist to the head both he and I want to give Ethan, is anyone’s guess.

“So, Ethan, I see you still haven’t learned.”

“No one is talking to you! Justin…”

“But I am talking to YOU, and as Justin’s PARTNER, I hold his attention. Not a never-will-be such as yourself.”

“Partner? Really? A real partner doesn’t continually cheat on his mate.”

Brian chuckles mirthlessly. “And that’s exactly why Justin couldn’t remain with someone as insipid and uneducated as you. Cheating implies secrecy. Granted, Justin did that to me for a time… with you, which to me means that you do not have a problem with it. Or is that only if it means you getting what you want? And for the record, he has apologized in all the ways that both matter and had us screaming in ecstacy; something I'm sure only you have done since Justin only bottoms for one man...me! I'm pretty certain that you have never even been enough to whet his voracious appetite for sex. Instead you are more like the a no-name brand of peanuts- stale, misrepresented, and usually highly overrated. However, to correct your misconception that I cheated on Justin, since Justin knew about ALL of my conquests, I had no need to hide anything. Why not go lick your own ass somewhere else, instead of trying to spread your rancid piss on territory that never was and will never be yours EVER? Not only are you making a fool of yourself, but MY HUSBAND is about to lose patience. And if that happens, I’ll drop you where you stand.”

Damn, Brian is fucking HOT when he knows he’s made a point. Apparently, Justin thinks so too, judging by the fine sheen of sweat on his skin right now. Oh to be a fly on the wall during that rousing reward to come! Although I’m not sure who deserves the prize more... Brian for taking care of the little pissant, or Justin for letting him. It's a tough call!

“Drop me where I stand? You threatening me?” Ethan sneers, and I just want to smack some sense into him for being stuck on stupid!

Brian laughs again, but this time he shakes his head. “Oh, you little imbecile. People like Justin and I don’t participate in an activity as trivial as threatening. We make promises, and most importantly, we keep them. You would do well to remember that.”

“You ARE threatening me! I ought to go to the cops.”

“You do that. In the meantime, please be advised that this entire conversation has been recorded WITH audio. I’m sure your agent will be interested in hearing you pursuing another man’s husband when you are supposed to be straight. Now come on, Ethan. Smile for the camera.” Brian turns his cellphone towards the idiot.

I don’t think that I have ever seen anything- let alone a person- turn that shade of gray or green.

CHAPTER 22: STUPID IS AS STUPID DOES BUT DOES THAT APPLY TO A ‘SORRY’ ASS, TOO?

BRIAN:

We’re still standing here with the outraged fiddler, who is steadily hurling insults and unwarranted threats at my head. Doesn’t he realize when it’s over? I suppose that if this was the 15th century, he would be challenging me to a duel for the fair Justin’s affections. But it’s not, and there is no way he can win Justin back, due to his own idiocy. On some level, I understand the desperation coming off of him in waves, probably even better than he does. Justin is a very special man; the kind that breathes and exudes positivity regardless of how bleak the situation looks. He lost that for a while during the bashing, and yet on some fundamental level, he always remained hopeful despite his actions to the contrary in the early days of his recovery. It’s that inner fire which makes any man- any person- want to draw from constantly. But in Ethan’s case, it’s more than that.

As I’m standing here still watching him, I realize that he wants to own Justin in ways that are just not possible. He would be satisfied if Justin was just a groupie with no real goals of his own. Justin told me that when he was with Ethan his art was for shit. No matter what he did, or wanted to do, he just couldn’t get the concept right. All that changed when I offered him the chance to do the Carnivale poster. Not only had Justin finished before the deadline, but the work was exquisite. I could tell he was back in the zone from the smile which lit up his whole face. But then Michael had arrived as Justin and I were going over the minor details I wanted added, and it was muted significantly. I could actually see the heaviness of his shoulders, and the weighted steps he’d taken on his way to the loft entrance, no matter how hastily he took them; watched helplessly as the inner-fire Justin had always possessed was being extinguished again, moment by moment.

That was the moment that I realized Justin no longer lived but merely existed, and was trying to make the best out the less-than-ideal situation. I kept my thoughts to myself that night, already knowing what the barrage of questions Michael was throwing at me would lead to. So I chose the path of least resistance, all the while knowing that Justin was going to break free of Ethan’s emotional bondage a lot sooner than forever. It was time to end this with a question of my own… and yeah, a little blackmail, too.

“So Ethan, tell me something. When was it that Michael approached you to start turning Justin’s head?” The collective gasps burst forth from Cynthia and Daphne, while Justin just stands stoically, waiting for the answer.

“He didn’t!” he yells, but I can see the fear in his eyes. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting to ever be found out.

“Oh, okay then. I’ll just go ahead and send this to your agent, then we can be on our way.” I start typing on my phone, when he whispers brokenly.

“The day before the recital at PIFA.”

“What was that?” I pause with my finger poised to resume typing if he doesn’t spill his yellow-bellied guts right this second.

“It was the day before the recital at the Music Hall of the school. Somehow, he’d found out that Justin was going to be there. He told me all about how Justin’s boyfriend was a heartless shit, who didn’t care about anyone but himself. He was worried that Justin would continue to fall for your shit, and in the end be heartbroken. When he showed me Justin’s picture in his phone, that sealed it for me. I had to have Justin. He’s fucking beautiful, and would…”

“Make delicious arm candy for your adoring audience to drool over?” Justin drawled. “That is what you were about to say, right Ethan?”

“Justin, it wasn’t like that…” he tries to explain, but is halted by Justin’s raised hand.

“Please, spare me the dramatics, Ethan. And respect me enough, at long last, to give me the fucking truth!” He takes a deep breath, and I move to stand beside him. I know what it is he must ask. It will shake his faith in himself once again if the answer comes back the way he believes it will. “So how much did he pay you, Ethan?”

“He…”

“DON’T. FUCKING. LIE!” Justin yells, startling us all. As he takes a calming breath, it’s taking everything in me just to hold him steady. I don’t know if it’s hurt, or anger, or a combination of the two which is trying to tear him apart right now. All I know is that I have to be his anchor.

“Okay, Justin. Okay… but you’re wrong in a way. It wasn’t Michael who paid me, but Lindsay, right after I made the first contact with you. After you walked away with Melanie, she pulled me aside and said that I was going to need money to woo you; that since I was a starving student, to consider the money as a token of appreciation from both her and Michael.”

“How much?” At Ethan’s hesitation, Justin repeated the question. “How much, Ethan?”

“Five thousand dollars, with a promise of more for every year we stayed together.”

Justin laughs. “Did they really think we were meant to be together forever?”

“I don’t think they did, really. But they were hoping that within that time, you would fall in love with me and forget about him,” he sneers, pointing in my direction.

“Then you were all jackasses,” Justin says simply. “One thing in this world that would never happen is that I would forget Brian Kinney. Sure, I may have forgotten bits and pieces of our lives together. Something tragic may even happen that I would forget that life altogether, or not remember his name. But Brian is a type of life force that has always remained with me since my first night with him, whether we were sharing the same space or not. His aura affects everything and everyone he comes in contact with in a visceral way…”

“You describe me as an artist,” I whisper in his ear, pulling him even tighter to me.

“That’s because I am, but it’s also the truth.” He places a peck near my lips before turning back to Ethan again. “I have to be honest with you, simply because I asked for your honesty first. Ethan, being with you was draining in so many ways. Listening to you practice for hours and hours on end was distracting and torturous on a good day. Yes, you have talent; I won’t take that away from you, but you also have limited social skills because of it. As an artist, I need conversation more than I need useless compliments designed to get me into bed with you. I need stimulation that has little or nothing to do with sex. As a man, I need someone who challenges me and sees me as more than an extension of themselves or their pretentious and lofty goals. In short, you were and are everything I don’t need.

“You need a groupie who will worship your fingering and bow work. That’s not me. You need someone to think you’re the greatest thing in the world; on par with electricity and sliced bread. That’s not me. You need someone to hold your hand through life, telling you that you’re more talented than Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, and the current greats like Noel Pointer and Jean-luc Ponty. That’s not me. But I also would have never tried to discourage you from achieving your dreams the way you have consistently tried to destroy mine. Anytime you would see me with my sketchbook open, I guess you figured that if I had time to draw, I had time to fuck you. You knew that Brian was still paying for my education so you made it your mission to try and make sure I wouldn’t pass my classes. I have to wonder if that was really what Michael and Lindsay’s token of appreciation was really about, and not simply to get me away from Brian. Like you, they also wanted me to fail, although for different reasons. Lindsay’s is more based in jealousy than anything, because even if she’d tried, she wouldn’t have been able to get into PIFA…”

“She did, which is essentially why she ended up at Penn. She’d jumped the gun and told all her friends that she was going to PIFA, but when she didn’t get in, she had to make up a convincing lie to cover her tracks,” I confirm.

Justin snickers. “Far be it from Lindsay to be able to tell the truth if it bit her in her girly parts. But Michael, on the other hand, his was more based in greed. You see, with Brian supporting me, it meant less times that he could go to Brian for another handout. So that five grand they gave you was a downpayment on a much bigger goal for them. You were the small fish, Ethan, and you always will be.”

Before the idiot has a chance to respond, Justin’s cell phone beeps with a text message. Shaking his head angrily he says, “We need to get to mom’s office.”

“Why?” Daphne asks. “I thought we were going to Kinnetik Headquarters.”

“We still are, but first it’s time to fry the shark plaguing my mother. Molly sent me the text since she is there with Mom today for ‘Take you daughter to work day’. She’s requesting that we come because Michael is there, bitching and whining at her and she’s afraid that Mom is about to cop a murder charge.”

“Why would he be at your mother’s job?” Cynthia asks.

“Because she’s buying up all the properties on Liberty Avenue that are up for sale, or that have the potential for increased value. One thing about WASP… male or in this case, female, it’s all about acquisition. And if there’s a way to make my very public enemy number one suffer, well that’s just another layer of fun for her. In short, she’s bought Michael’s building as well as the loft, the Diner, the bank, and several other buildings which house some lucrative businesses along the Avenue. So little Mikey is at her office, throwing a temper tantrum.”

“Well then let’s go save Mom from the whine I’m sure could be heard all over Pittsburgh.” I laugh as I move us around the still struck-dumb idiot, watching us have a conversation which does not involve him. I turn slowly. “Ethan, as always, it hasn’t been a pleasure, but thanks for the useful information. Bye bye!”

“But what about the video?” Ethan pleads.

“Stay away from us, and perhaps I’ll erase it in a year’s time. But I don’t know about that yet.” I let just the mere idea of the threat to his career hang in the air before going over to the driver’s side and getting in. Yes, it’s evil to do something like that to the poor arrogant asshole, but he’s asked for it numerous times. Perhaps he will finally realize that he’s been fighting this particular war unarmed, or at the very least with faulty ammunition. He would do well to remember that he’s no match for the Master.

As we pull out of the parking space, Daphne’s forehead wrinkles in thought. “But why would he go to Mrs. Taylor? She’s not going to have any mercy on him at all.”

“No, she isn’t,” Justin answers. “But Michael is probably thinking once word gets back to Brian that he’s essentially homeless, Brian will either plead his case to Mom, or let him stay with us. It’s a classic Michael-move designed to make him seem helpless, and gain sympathy in any way possible.”

“To make anyone who goes against his wishes, or not willing to fix his problems look unreasonable and selfish,” Cynthia chimes in.

“God that sounds like…”

“Lindsay!” we all tell Daphne, even though we know she already knows it. “He’s been around enough times to pick up a few of her tricks. But just like hers didn’t work, neither will his this time. Brian, I think you should let me handle this,” Justin tells me.

“Why?” I ask. Granted he just let me handle Ethan my own way, but this is different.

“Because no doubt he’ll try every trick in the book with you, thinking that since the guilt trips have worked before, they will work again. Michael doesn’t want to accept that things have indeed changed. You’re not alone anymore! And if it takes a fucking mallet, I’m going to get that through the cement block where the gray matter in his brain should be. Once and for all.”

JENNIFER:

God, PLEASE keep my hands! God, PLEASE keep me from reaching out and punching this idiot in his whining mouth! Chants of prayers in different variations keep going around and around in my head as I stand here listening to Michael Novotny’s litany of complaints and threats. The only reason I haven’t lost my temper yet is because the rental office is full of clients paying their rent or mortgages, and my daughter is sitting with Samantha at the front desk right now. However, whatever lessons I’ve ever taught Molly about violence are about to go out of the window along with Michael... head first!

“Again Michael, I’m not rescinding the eviction. We gave your former cohabitant his check back upon his request. Not only did he pay the rent six months in advance, but your retroactive rent, which was 120 days past due. It was owed to him since he didn’t even live there at the time. The eviction notice was in your mailbox…”

“But you knew that I wasn’t in town!”

“That’s not my problem, nor was I aware that you hadn’t made arrangements for your mail to be picked up. Most people do that when they know they are going to be gone for an extended period of time. As a courtesy, I granted you five extra days to cover that lapse, but that still doesn’t excuse the 120 days of nonpayment prior to the issue of the notice.”

“Well then how about I just give you the money now, and I get to keep my place?”

“No.”

“No? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ‘NO’?!”

“Just what I said,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I…”

“Am about to use Justin’s money to save my miserable ass once again? Isn’t that what you were going to say, Michael?” Justin interrupts as he comes through the door. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, Son. What are you doing here?”

“Molly sent up an S.O.S., afraid that you might be donning prison orange and new silver bracelets within the next few minutes. Not a fashion statement any of us would want to see you making. Trust me, no one, except perhaps Emmett, looks good in that shade of orange, Mom.”

“As you can see, Michael is once again unhappy with circumstances of his own making.”

“I’m sure. Molly’s given me a full account of what’s been going on. But I know what’s really going on in Michael’s head, don’t I Michael?”

“Stay the fuck out of this, Boy Wonder. My business doesn’t concern you!”

“On the contrary when you’re offering to pay $4800 dollars plus interest of the money you stole from me, and that’s just in arrears. It would take an additional $4800 to pay the six months for the remainder of the year. That’s at least $9600 dollars of MY money that you are offering up as if it’s yours.”

“I have money that has nothing to do with YOU!”

“Oh you mean it’s Brian’s money, then?”

“Bri…? Look, what I am doing is…”

“Trying to come here and start a verbal war with my mom in an attempt to make her look unreasonable and discredit her growing business? I thought I would finish your sentence for you. Meanwhile, in a little less than five days to the minute, you’re either going to pay back my money and all of the other things I’ve asked for as a settlement, or you’re going to be brought up on charges of embezzlement. I have to wonder just who here is actually being dishonest.”

The other patrons all stopped their transactions to listen to the calm voice of my son. I would worry about this contretemps spreading around as if I can’t take care of my own business, but I think hearing Justin spell out exactly what Michael was trying to do, is going to do more good than harm.

“Fuck you, Boy Wonder!”

“Not even with your mother’s plastic dick hidden in her nightstand, Michael. And that’s what the problem really is, isn’t it? Not that I won’t fuck you per se, but that Brian won’t do you, whereas he does me well and often. That’s what today is really about, isn’t it? The fact that you have once again messed up, and you’re looking for Brian to come in here and rescue you, either by talking with Mom, who he loves, or giving you a place to stay. Well dream on, idiot! The Bank of Brian Kinney is closed to you!”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! You don’t know what Brian will do for me! We have history! We have a future together! You’re just…”

“HIS HUSBAND!” Justin yells in Michael’s face, before laughing at the astonished look. “Yes, Michael. You heard right, for once. I am Brian’s husband… more than that really. I’m both his legal domestic partner and his business partner, which means that no money moves unless we BOTH approve. So no, he won’t be coming to your rescue as you intended by coming to complain to my mother. For once, you’re going to have to take off those Captain Asshole underoos you’re so fond of and put on some Big Boy drawers. You’re going to have to solve your own problems, or do what you’ve been doing and hang from Deb’s apron strings, continuing to drag her down with you. I’m sure she’s lonely in that little empty house since she also alienated us through her lies and manipulations on your behalf.”

“You’re lying! He didn’t sign any kind of legal papers with you!” Michael just has to keep trying. IDIOT!  

“Actually, he did. Mom was there, as was Melanie, Ted, and Cynthia. So yes, it’s all nice, tight and legal. Besides, on the paperwork we handed you, should you have actually read it, you would have noticed that it’s not only Justin Taylor who’s suing you, but Brian and Justin Taylor-Kinney otherwise known as the Taylor-Kinney Corporation. Go home, Michael, but then you’ve heard those words before, haven’t you? It’s why you’re back here in the Pitts. David didn’t want you; Ben doesn’t want you, and Brian certainly DOES NOT WANT YOU! I think that’s about the same volume he used on Saturday when he told you to your face. Perhaps it’s time you not just heard it, but actually listened. Mom, we’ll see you and Molly for dinner tonight at the loft.’

“Okay, dear. Do I need to bring anything?” I ask in the same conversational tone he’s using.

It’s as if he didn’t just blow Michael’s identity and whole world apart as he’d known it. I have to hold in my laugh and keep my face neutral as I know good and well where Justin has picked that up from. I used to think Brian was such a bad influence on my son, but the truth is that he’s helped turn the boy I used to know and raised into a very strong man. I couldn’t be prouder of either of them.

“No, just yourselves. Besides I think it’s time Gus officially met his Auntie Molly. He and Mel are coming over as well. We have to talk about the new house.”

“New house? New fucking house?!” Michael screeches. “I’m standing here practically homeless and you’re rubbing it in my face about a new house?!”

“Oh sorry, Michael, I honestly forgot you were still standing there. I would have thought by now that you would have left to go secure your old room at your mother’s house, since there’s nothing more you can do here,” Justin says, and how he sounds so damn innocent I’ll never know. The other patrons still watching are snickering and probably wondering the same exact thing.

“Fuck you, Justin!”

“We’ve already established that you’re not anybody’s type. So that is still not an option. Go play with your toys, Michael while you still can. Oh wait! You can’t do that either since Mom owns that building and per the court order we obtained when we confiscated the ledgers, you aren’t allowed there. Who knew that cease and desist order covered so much? Well again, I have to get back. Brian, Daph, and Cyn are waiting for me in the car to go to Headquarters. I left Brian in the car, knowing exactly what Mr. Pre-DICK-table would try.”

“Brian’s here?!” Michael screeches at the same time I ask, “Brian actually agreed to stay in the car?”

He smiles brightly. “I used my powers of twink persuasion. They haven’t steered me wrong yet. I’ll see you later, Mom.” As he leans in to kiss my cheek, he says, “Security’s waiting. And Mollusk, good looking out! Keep up the good work, kid!”

Molly smiles at him, “You too, Jester. I’ll call when we’re on our way.”

I laugh at my children who really have grown up so much right before my eyes, before turning back to Michael. “Well, Mr. Novotny, I guess there’s nothing left to say except… SECURITY!” And true to Justin’s word, they were just waiting for me to give the order. They hurried in, and without giving Michael time to whine, bustled him out.

I know that this isn’t the end of the matter; I’ll have to deal with Mama Bear, after all. But somehow, I still live in hope that Deb will wise up now that Michael has been exposed for the conniving cunt he is. But then again, perhaps she’ll just be happy to have her baby back in his bed under her roof, because Lord knows she’s never really allowed him to grow the fuck up. Should definitely be interesting to see which way the wind blows in that quarter. I actually wonder who will be sorrier by the end of this whole episode.

Neither of them feel as though they have done anything wrong, but I don’t doubt that with Brian out of the way, they will begin to blame each other. Of course, I’m not delusional enough to believe that everyone else, including Brian, won’t be blamed before they get to the point when they realize what happens when you point fingers. There are always three of your own pointing back and accusing you, too. A lesson that neither of the Novotnys have ever learned, but one they are about to reap in spades. I shake my head at that thought.

The whining and screeching will be heard all over Pennsylvania, and not just in Pittsburgh.  

CHAPTER 23: BRACING FOR IMPACT

VIC:

Rodney and I decided to give my sister the rest of the weekend off to come to grips with what she’s done. Has it worked? I’m honestly not so sure. All I do know is that I’m worried about her. Yes, I’m still angry that she and Michael would use Brian in the ways that they have, but… well she and I have a history that goes way beyond the bonds of a simple blood tie. She’s been my best friend, confidant, and one-woman cheering section when our family kicked us out and it was time to move forward in life. She was the very first person I told when I found out I was positive; not Roberto, whom I was living with at the time. And when I needed to get my head out of my ass the first time I was hospitalized, it was Deb who told me so, and helped me learn to take care of myself again. So now, it’s my turn.

Coming into the house, the first thing that hits me is the smell. Knowing my sister the way I do, I would have expected to smell a veritable feast, since she usually cooks when she’s upset. But not this time. No, it’s the smell of pot, vodka, and Pine-sol that’s assaulting my senses!

“What the hell is she up to?” Rodney whispers to me as we enter further into the house.

“Brian’s method of pain management, minus the sex,” I whisper back. “The smell of Pine-sol means that she’s done one of two things: either she went on a cleaning spree before, or just finished cleaning up the vomit afterwards.

Going into the kitchen, I find what I expected. Deb’s sprawled, face down, on the table. The stench coming from the kitchen sink confirms that the Pine-sol was unceremoniously dumped in there, but never rinsed down the drain along with the contents of her stomach. I have to wonder how long she’s been binging. The ashtray is full of cigaweed roaches, and honestly...

“Is she always like this?” Alex asks me as he steps into the kitchen. He agreed to help us talk to Deb, and to help her get a handle on things as they really are. I’m almost sorry that I asked him to come all this way.

“The last time I’d actually seen her this bad was three nights after she had Michael. She couldn’t do it after we were kicked out because she was pregnant. But she went on a binge once the enormity of what she’d done sunk in. It’s how she deals with extremely stressful situations.”

“And the moderate ones?”

“She cooks,” I answer, and sure enough, the refrigerator is full of tupperware of newly cooked dishes. Looking around I spot even more on top of the fridge, stacked and labeled with everyone’s name from Brian to Ted, in alphabetical order.

“And you say this isn’t a regular occurence?” Alex asks again.

I turn to him. “If you think my sister needs rehab, you’re mistaken. However, I do think that she needs to be removed from the immediate situation for awhile. If there is one thing I know about Debra Jane Grassi, it’s that she can’t take being shunned.”

“Why didn’t she think of that before she aided Michael in his foolishness?” Rodney asked as he narrowed his eyes as the still-sleeping Debbie.

It was no secret that he was as pissed off as the rest of us at Michael and Deb. A lot of it stems from what his own family tried to do to him when he was first diagnosed. His parents with the help of his brother, who’s an attorney, thought that because he contracted HIV he was no longer competent to handle his own affairs. It didn’t help that his family was well-off, and they hadn’t even known he was gay. When all of the facts in the case came out, Rodney was made to feel less than a human, due to all their allegations and innuendoes. They demanded that the judge take away his license to practice Psychiatry. Thankfully the judge was liberal and based his decision in Rodney’s favor solely on the law. Needless to say, that angered Rodney’s family, especially to find out that he didn’t need their money or connections. So he was in full support of his father disowning him, and has not looked back since.

But this was my sister he was talking about. “Rodney, it’s not an easy decision to choose between the child you birthed and the child of your heart. In reality, Brian is everything Deb wishes Michael could be. The only problem is she also resents Brian for it. Chances are that Deb thought that by helping to get Michael what he wanted, she would be making sure that both of them couldn’t leave her. In a sense Brian would really be her son then, and Michael would always be suitably grateful enough to always take care of her.”

“That’s preposterous!”

“But it’s also true. You tend to forget that Deb and I were tossed out, and we only had each other then. Once Michael came along, I left Deb here while I went off to New York. For much of that time, Michael was all Debbie had- the only one who never left her. But on the day he met Brian, technically he did.”

“That’s still no excuse for what the both of them did!”

“No it isn’t, but it does give a reason as to why she allows Michael use her the way he does. He’s always made her feel as though she’s had to buy his love. And now with the truth about his real father out… Brian has known for years about him, but Michael hadn’t. At least not until Justin spilled the secret during his rant to Debbie.”

“What about him? Should he matter?” Alex asks me.

“Only in the fact that his name is Danny Devore, not Charles Michael Novotny,” I whisper.

“What?!” They both ask me at the same time. “Why would she do that? Why would she give him a false identity?” Rodney continues on, shocked.

“Would you want to know that your father was a drag queen? I think Brian has said it best: Michael is a hetero teen female trapped in the body of a gay man. He has all their ideals and aspirations, but none of the balls to go through with a transgender surgery.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting a fairytale romance…”

“There is when object of your affections is a man who doesn’t want that with you and you resort to highschool bullshit games to get him. I’m willing to bet you that if he had a uterus, he’d be faking a pregnancy right about now.”

“Sounds like something Lindsay would do.”

“Exactly! Michael and Lindsay have always wanted the same thing… Brian, but it was easier to join forces with the other because in their minds, neither was a threat to them.”

“But Lindsay doesn’t have a dick…”

“And Michael doesn’t have balls, except in terms of biology. But back to Deb’s role as Michael’s enabler… the truth is she’s still emotionally scarred from the way our parents treated us. In Deb’s mind, I’ll be leaving her soon, and then who will she have? Most people can depend on their children to do right by them in their old age, but she’s been cursed with a selfish little shit named Michael. So if Michael wouldn’t take care of her, Brian would, but she had to have some way to tie him to her. In her warped mind, Michael was that tie.”

“But now she’s a co-conspirator in her villainous offspring’s tale.”

I snicker. “You sound almost like one of Michael’s comic books.”

“He makes it easy to do. When you really listen to him talk, it’s like he talks in riddles and comic dialogue. I mean, if you really think about it, what is it he really saw himself as doing regarding Brian and Justin’s relationship? What was his real purpose to bringing in Ethan, if what we suspect is true?” Rodney asks me, but it’s Alex who answers.

“He was saving his best friend from the evil clutches of someone who wasn’t him. Let’s face it, if Michael was in Justin’s shoes, everything that has happened between Brian and Justin thus far wouldn’t have been a problem for him. Brian willingly supporting Justin, prior to the bashing and beyond; Brian and Justin agreeing to an open-relationship; Brian and Justin’s falling out and reunification after Rage, all of it would have been okay with Michael had the roles been reversed, as long as in the end HE could have Brian, and all the attention the man draws to him. That is the core of Michael’s problem. Without Brian in his life, he’s not only forgettable, but unnoticeable. Even if it’s negative attention, it’s still a craving that Michael has that’s satisfied. Being known as Brian’s best friend is no longer enough for him, especially since Justin is known as Brian’s equal, or his tamer in certain circles. So now Michael wants to be the ONLY one to say that he’s with Brian Kinney, instead of just a small part of his life. He’s made it a competition, when in reality, there is none. Since no matter what he did, he wouldn’t measure up to Justin. I would say that Michael suffers from Narcissistic Personality Disorder, but no, he isn’t sick; just selfish and self-absorbed. How many times has he just had to turn a conversation back to himself?”

“Hundreds of thousands of times. But why would he go to all these lengths now? He had Ben, and before that he had David.”

Alex shrugs. “Sure he did, but Brian is still like that shiny new bike that a kid sees in the store. Although he asks for the bike a million times, he’s either told ‘no’ or the famous quote from every parent, ‘we’ll see’. Meanwhile, Brian commands everyone’s attention and respect, and has since his early teen years. Michael doesn’t realize that Brian earned it in ways that he would never have been able to handle, especially where handling his own bullies and Michael’s were concerned. It’s the same with Justin, and that is the driving force which has and will set all of Michael’s past, present, and future plans in motion. The difference between Brian and Justin versus Michael is glaringly obvious. In Michael’s mind, he has to prove that he’s more like Brian than Justin is. He has to be seen as just as smart, just as beautiful… you know, worthy being with King Kinney. The problem is that he will always fall short because at base Michael is a lazy coward, whereas neither Brian norJustin are.”

And you know, that assessment rings true on so many levels. Michael has always wanted to play the damsel in distress, seeming helpless to the masculinity of his chosen partners. Only Brian didn’t play the game that Michael always wanted. He wanted the Football Hero and Head Cheerleader dynamic, where it was automatically implied that they were together. What an imbecile! But now I have another dork to wake up. She’s started to fucking snore.

Having absolutely no sympathy for her plight, I grab the empty metal garbage can, and one of the empty bottles of vodka on the table and WHAM! I throw it into the bottom causing the ruckus. It takes everything in me not to laugh as she lands on her ample ass onto the floor from the chair.

“Wha… What? Vic?” She stammers. As I regard her, I notice the change from bewilderment to anger almost immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here, Benedict fucking Arnold!”

“Trying to save you from continuing the mother and son edition of Bonnie and fucking Clyde,” I sneer back at her. “Now get up, Sis, and go take a shower. You smell like a funkier version of Woodstock!”

“You can’t…” she stops short, getting a good whiff of herself. “Fine! I will be back shortly, but I want you out of my house!”

“Fat chance! You and I are going to talk. And by that I mean, I will do the fucking talking for once while you sit there and listen.”

“Fuck that, Vic! I will not sit here in my own house and be lectured.”

“Yes you will, Debra Jane Grassi! Call it an intervention or a Come to Jesus moment, an epiphany or a COW PROD UP YOUR ASS! Whatever it takes for you to finally listen!” I yell, but then seeing the hurt look on her face, I take a calming breath before trying again. “No one here wants to harm you; you’ve already done plenty of that yourself. But we are here to help you. You’ve dealt some horrible blows to Brian over the years, but you’ve been given plenty of your own, too. What happened on Saturday was a combination of both. So let us help you deal with that, and move on. You owe it to yourself to at least try to come out of the vicious cycle that loving your son to distraction has put you in. I’ve never asked anything of you, Deb, never. But I’m asking this. Please?

She turns wordlessly towards the stairs, and I am beginning to wonder if I’ve reached her at all. I feel Rodney’s arms around my waist from behind, holding me close to him. He whispers, “Pass or fail, Victor Grassi, you did an amazing job. The rest now, is up to her. I’m proud of you.”

I nod as I fight back tears. Looking around the kitchen yet again, I know what we have to do. “We can’t talk to her here.”

“Why not?” Rodney asks. “I know that in here is where the both of you have always made any major decisions. It’s where you both, as brother and sister, are most comfortable.”

“That’s true,” I concur, sighing. “But there are too many distractions… memories of family dinners, laughter, conversations and tears, long past gone, but never forgotten. Staying here is going to be counterproductive to what we are trying to get her to agree to do. Plus, she’s too accessible here.”

“He’s right, Rodney. All it will do is remind Deb of what she’s had and lost, not see what she could possibly have in front of her. We have to get her out of here.”

“Fine, but where can we take her? Honestly, I don’t want her at our place just yet in case she balks at our suggestions. There’s a chance that she will become with us like she is with all the rest, just barging in at will. I can’t live like that, and I don’t think you want to return to it. It’s why we moved in the first place.”

I nod in understanding. Rodney and I couldn’t even have sex without Deb commenting, or barging in. Privacy is a word not on intimate terms with Deb. I mean, she barged in on Brian when he was in the middle of an orgy, for God’s sake! It took months for the Avenue to talk about anything else. “So where should we take her?”

“I think I have just the place,” Alex says. “We’ll do this at my house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. First, Stephen is there, and like Rodney he’s had a similar situation to what Deb is about to go through. Only it was his twin brother, who is now serving time for a homicide he was trying to pass off on Stephen. He’ll know to a degree just what Deb is feeling and may be able to put things in a new perspective for her. Secondly, no one knows where I live since my office is located on the other side of town. We’ll have total privacy there.” In fact, I was going to suggest that maybe, if she agrees, she should stay there with us until she’s able to process everything. It’s close enough that if something happens to you, she’ll be able to get here right away, but it’s far enough away from the prying eyes and gossiping hens of the Avenue.”

“Vic, he may have a good point and idea,” Rodney chimes in. “Everyone will have already heard about what’s going on between the Novotnys and the Taylor-Kinneys by now, and like you said, Deb needs to face her demons head on. She can’t do that here nor anywhere near here. It’s like dealing with a drug addict. Sure, there are some who are functional enough to be an outpatient after 72-hour lock down, but Deb isn’t like that. She’s proven that given the opportunity, no matter how many times she tries, she’ll fall into her habit of cloaking and covering for Michael, even though she knows he’s wrong.

"She needs help, and fast if she’s going to become an active participant in her own life again. Otherwise, Michael is going to kill her, and I’m not talking physically, but emotionally, and socially too. Deb thrives on social interaction. Can you imagine what it will do to her to have absolutely no one? You’re not just dealing with an addict, but one whose abuser is always front and center, urging her to take another metaphorical hit. Michael has already done a damn good job of isolating her, but with our help, maybe we can break his hold on her.”

“I won’t lie to either of you. It’s not going to be easy, and coming back here afterwards where she’s no longer safe, will be hard. But we’ll try to give her the tools she needs to become Debbie again; it’s up to her what she does with them.”

With that thought in mind, I run upstairs and pack some clothes for her. I know that what both Alex and Rodney said is right, and hopefully she’ll see that. I’ve decided to have some clothes ready for her just in case she takes the suggestion. I don’t want to give her a chance to change her mind, and coming back here will do that. As I’m finishing up the last of my impromptu packing job, my cell phone rings. Fuck! What’s happened now?! It normally wouldn’t be a problem for me to talk to the caller, except that the water in the shower has also stopped running. I know that I have to get out of this bedroom and out to the car before Deb finds me in here.

Making my way downstairs just as the bathroom door opens, I listen to the voicemail Justin has left me, telling me of Michael’s latest drama. Reaching the landing in record time, I practically throw Deb’s garment bag to Rodney and run over to the house phone to disconnect it immediately. Michael is, if nothing else, predictable, and I know that he will be calling as soon as he can channel the proper emotions and get his grubby little hands on a phone. I am NOT about to let the little shit derail our intervention with Deb before we even get started. I head over to the answering machine, and turn the volume off, although whomever calls can still leave a message.

“Okay, Vic. I’m ready to listen,” Deb says, with her head downcast.

I don’t have to see her eyes to know that she’s been crying. My first inclination is go over to her and take her in my arms, but I won’t. I know that Rodney was right the other day before the meeting when he basically told me that I can be compassionate towards my sister, but not to show even a modicum of weakness. It’s that thought which is anchoring me right now as I watch her head to our favorite meeting place.

Clearing my throat, I say, “That’s good, Deb, but we can’t talk here.”

“Why not? You’re uncomfortable here all of a sudden?” She cuts her eyes at Rodney before looking back at me.

“No, and you know that I’m not. But what we have to discuss with you would be better done outside of here. And I think you know that, even if you don’t like it.”

She huffs and puts her hands on her hips. “Fine! Then where are we going?”

Alex steps nearer to her. “Hi, Deb. I’m not sure if you remember me…”

“Of course, I do. But what are you doing here, Dr. Wilder?” she sneers, letting us all know what she thinks of him being there.

Instead of getting upset, he smiles. “Don’t worry, Deb, I’m not here to diagnose you. But in light of what’s been happening in your life lately, I have someone who I would like you to meet. He was in a similar situation where he had some major decisions to make, too. I thought you might like to know that you’re not completely alone.”

“Well, I… You’re not going to tell me that I have some sort of mental defect, are you?”

“If anything, I would tell you that you suffer from depression, but again, that’s not why I’m here. How about we all go to my house? I’ll fix lunch and let you see how I live away from Liberty Avenue.”

She looks to me. “You two coming, too?”

“Yes. Is that a problem for you, Deb?” I ask/

“No. Just that I’ve had so many surprises in the last few days, I’d like to know what’s coming next, you know?”

“I understand, Deb.”

As we were leaving the house, I am so glad that I am the last one out the door as I notice the red record button is lit. I have the sinking feeling in my stomach that I know who just left the last message. I send Rodney, Deb, and Alex ahead as my suspicion is confirmed. I press play and listen to the wheedling and whining tone of my nephew, so angry that he’s not only demanding that she put him up, but should straighten Jennifer Taylor and her wayward son out on his behalf. Then he goes on to say how unreasonable she was being, showing off in front of her clients while letting Justin threaten him… again. Finally when the light went off to signal that the recording was over, I did the one thing I thought to never do in my life. I erased the message and then unplugged the machine. I then bolt locked Deb’s front door, checked the backdoor to make sure it’s locked, and then headed down to the basement. I decided to leave the house that way, remembering the alarm I secretly installed years ago without Deb’s knowledge. But the closer I got to the door, the more I recognized the old crates from Michael’s time with David. Several of them were marked ‘FRAGILE’ and I could only imagine what was in them that Michael would consider valuable. As I leave, I call Ted, advising him of the code to the alarm on the basement door and asking him to call his friend Dale. I smile knowing that Michael’s little stash is about to be invaded, and there isn’t a fucking thing he can do about it. Fuck with my sister, you fuck with me, Little Boy. Even if you are my nephew!

Climbing into the backseat of the car, Rodney leans over to me. “Everything okay?”

“Not quite yet, but it will be.” I kiss his lips even as Alex pulls away from the curb, thinking once I have my sister back, it surely will be!

CHAPTER 24: BRACING FOR IMPACT Part 2

DEB:

As we pull up to Alex Wilder’s residence, all I can think is WOW! This not a just a simple house like I was expecting; it’s a fucking estate! I’ve never been to one of these, much less invited to one, except for one time. It was the day of girls’ wedding. Such a beautiful day, which costs Brian a small fortune to get together in a hurry so that they could get married on time. When I think of the things he’s done for others, I can’t quite figure out why I’ve treated him the way I have. All I know is that I’ve never wanted him to leave me, and now he has. I don’t know how to accept that.

I spent most of Saturday and yesterday cooking, hoping against hope that he- that anybody- would come by. But by last night, I realized just what the repercussions of my own motives and culpability in Michael’s game had done. Hell, not even my own son called to check on me! So I decided to read exactly what was in that cursed packet to try to get a handle on what the real issues were. They couldn’t be as trivial as money, right? But it WAS about the money, however it was more than glaringly obvious that it was mostly about the lies Michael and I told to get it.

Heartbroken by my own deceit, I took a page out of Joan Kinney’s book and started drinking to forget. Then I remembered the joints I had stashed away; joints that Brian and I sat smoking and rolling the day after he was fired from Vanguard, and decided that if all I was going to have were my memories of our talks, it would have to be enough. Six joints and three full bottles of Skyy later, I woke up to find Vic, Rodney, and Alex, looking down on me from my position on the floor.

I must admit that in one breath, I was happy to see that my brother had not forgotten me. But then I remembered how he sat across from me at the table in the conference room, his own eyes full of anger and censure while listening to Brian, Justin, Hunter, Ben, Ted, Melanie, and Emmett berate us. I must admit that hurt worst of all, but then he spoke and I could no longer deny anything he said. And that angered me because he was right! He was speaking aloud all the doubts I had been having about Michael’s loyalty to me for a long time. Doubts that I thought were simply the product of my overactive imagination, but as I looked at all of the paperwork, each and every one of them were confirmed in more ways than one. All of my fears, the ones I was trying with all my might to prevent by standing with Michael, are coming true, and I… I just don’t know how to stop it.

“Well, here we are, Deb,” Alex tells me. “What do you think of the place?”

“Place? It’s a fucking palace!” I answer, still in awe.

“Nah. To me, it’s just home.” He gets out and comes around the car to let me out. Those gentlemanly manners are something Brian, Justin, and Ted had always done for me. Vic, Rodney, and Emmett, too. The only one that never thought of me as a lady was… My thoughts are interrupted again by Alex. “Come on, Miss Debra. Let’s get you comfortable and fix you something to eat. I don’t imagine you’ve done much of that in the last few days.”

The care and concern in his voice is almost overwhelming as I push back the tears threatening to spill. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because although none of us are pleased with your behavior, you still deserve kindness. Besides, you were always kind to me when I stopped in the Diner.”

“I don’t want your pity! I don’t deserve it!”

“I would never offer that to you, Deb, because I would never want it either. What makes you think that being kind is synonymous with offering pity?”

“It stems from our parents, Alex,” Vic answers him. “Especially in the later years, it was only a matter of doing what you were supposed to be doing for them, or trying to infantilize. There was no such thing as kindness. I’ve learned the difference in later years after I got sick, but Deb’s never had the opportunity.”

He nods but then looks at me straight in my eyes and asks, “Is that where the idea that everyone owes you came from?”

I have to think about that for a second. Every time my parents did something a little extra for me, they would tell me that. It could be something that meant a lot to me, like coming to the school concerts my class was putting on, or in later years, buying me an extra pair of shoes before the next quarterly budget when we usually went shopping because my own didn’t fit anymore. My life was full of checks and balances, and apparently, it stuck. So no, there was no such thing as a basic human kindness that didn’t have to be repaid in one form or another.

“Yeah, it is. Although our parents were well off, they constantly made it clear to Vic and I that we were poor; that as long as we had the food, shelter, and clothes they were supposed to give us for our well-being, all the extra little things they did for us were something that we would pay for later.”

“And you continued the cycle with everyone…”

I sigh and drop my eyes. “Except Michael.”

“Yes, except Michael. I have to wonder why that is.”

“Because he didn’t ask to be born.”

“True, but neither did you or Vic.”

“Well that’s true, but I’ve… well I’ve always tried to make sure Michael had a good life.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. As a matter of opinion, you did the best you could with the tools you were given at the time. I understand that you once wanted to be a nurse.” I nod, and smile at the dreams I had let go because of my mistake. “That’s an admirable profession. So why did you curtail your dreams just because you had a child? I’m sure there were plenty of grants and programs back then that would have helped your towards your goals.”

Again, I have to stop and think about that. It was the year of 1970. “Not many. The women’s rights movement was in full swing, but there just didn’t seem to be many opportunities here in Pittsburgh at the time. Sure, I could go to school, but I also had a baby to look after. I was exhausted most of the time, and any extra money I had I would use to stock up on the things Michael needed and wanted.”