Chapter 1

JUSTIN:

Brian and I are in the elevator, kissing with abandon, clawing at each other. Yet through all this, I can still see the night playing out in my mind. Daphne convinced me that I should go 'get my man.' So, after getting Vic's membership card, we headed to Babylon...

Flashback...

When Daphne points out the two guys Brian is dancing with, I decide to make myself known.

I head down the stairs, removing my shirt as I go. Then I make my way across the crowded dance floor and stop close to Brian, hoping to catch his attention.

I feel wild and carefree, happy that I have chosen this life for myself. Who knew by embracing my gay lifestyle that I would feel like this?

Feeling my heart pounding, excited but also anxious, and with my eyes squarely focused on Brian and his impromptu fan group, I start to dance. I let the beat of the music overtake me. I raise my hands and move my body in time to the music, frequently throwing glances their way. Shiny confetti rains down upon me, sticking to my chest and shoulders and making my skin glow. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see one of the tricks studying me with a smile as he slowly begins to dance toward me. Soon, the other one joins us, one sliding his hand down my bare chest while the other one presses up against my back, wrapping his hands around my waist as we begin to move to the tempo as one.

Surrounded by the tricks that were Brian's, I can't help feeling a little smug. A thrill of excitement floods through me as I see Brian start to move closer. At first, he hangs back slightly as he moves back and forth in time with the beat, but then he comes even closer.

Yes! Now I have Brian's attention. And he's apparently decided to claim me! His arms form a barrier between me and the other two men as they back away, and I find myself in Brian's arms.

He nuzzles my chin, and pride surges through me.

And when he kisses me, I know I've won.

We break the kiss and he's smiling; it's such a beautiful sight.

But it's when he lifts me in the air that I know I'm truly his for the night.

Present Time... Loft Building

"Justin, careful with the shirt!" Brian warns as we continue to grope each other.

"Huh?"

"I know you're excited, but this shirt cost me $500," he growls.

"Sorry, Brian. I'm anxious. Just hurry."

The elevator comes to a stop, and as Brian tries to unlock the door, I'm reaching around him, already unbuttoning his jeans.

Accomplishing that, I start on my own, my hands shaking with anticipation; I didn't think a person could be this horny.

We stumble into the loft, and Brian immediately slams me up against the closed door, ravishing my mouth.

"Brian, fuck me; hurry," I plead, feeling his hot breath on my face. I don't waste time sliding my shoes off and hurriedly yanking my pants and briefs down to pool at my feet. I'm glad I tossed my shirt aside earlier at Babylon; it makes it so much easier for me to press against Brian's sweaty, warm skin.

"That's the plan," he assures me with a smirk as his jeans drop to the floor and he steps out of them, along with his shoes; his jock follows immediately thereafter.

He turns me around and I hear the rip of a condom package. He starts to prep me, but I don't have time for that; my hormones are in overdrive.

"Brian, I'm ready. Just fuck me... NOW!"

He removes his fingers and places the head of his cock at my hole. I'm shivering with anticipation. Throwing caution to the wind, I push back hard, just as Brian's pushing in, and he bottoms out.

"Christ, Justin! You can't do that."

I hastily reassure him. "I'm fine. Move!" To prove my point, I start to clench my ass until he gets the message.

With hard thrusts, it's fast and furious, and in no time at all, we are both coming.

"Bedroom, Brian," I gasp, my heart beating furiously from my climax.

"What, you're ready for round two?"

"Yeah. Do you have to pull out?"

I hear him snort. "Not sure how else we will get to the bed."

We clumsily stumble into the bedroom and onto the bed as I'm grabbing a condom and lube. I rip it open and hurriedly roll it on Brian, noticing that he's already hard again.

"Okay... do it," I manage to say. I'm already kissing him, pinching a nipple, and fondling his balls.

Brian pushes me down on the bed, and with one push, he's fully embedded in me, again.

"Oh, God, this is heaven," I moan.

After a few more thrusts, I ask Brian if I can ride him. I saw it on the internet and want to try it.

He rolls us over without losing contact, and I go wild. I'm bouncing up and down as hard and fast as I can, making me feel powerful and in control, as I discover different angles and speeds to derive the most pleasure. With Brian, I want to try everything, anything, and it feels amazing.

Soon, however, Brian is flipping us again and is now behind me. He sets a fast and furious pace. My face is pressed against the bed and I'm almost having a hard time breathing. I feel Brian suddenly tense and realize he's already coming.

He pauses for a second before moving. Once more he flips me, and with my legs now on his shoulders, he sets that fast pace again. This god of a man is a virtual sex machine. He starts to jack me off in time to his thrusts, and before I know it, we're both coming again.

We collapse onto the bed, panting hard, and I'm having a difficult time catching my breath. I close my eyes, a sated smile on my face, just relishing the feeling that once again I am in this man's bed. So much for his 'I've had you' speech. I could certainly get used to this!

After ten minutes I need the bathroom. As I'm getting up, I feel the wetness between my legs. I reach down and swipe up a large amount of something wet and sticky. Pulling my hand up, I sniff and taste.

Oh, my God, NO!

"Brian?"

"Mmh?"

"Brian, I think the condom broke."

He lifts his head and with a screwed-up face mutters, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm really wet. Look." Again, I swipe between my legs, then bring my wet fingers close to his face, so he can see for himself.

"Oh, fuck."

He looks down at his softening dick and swears again, much louder.

"Holy fucking fuck!"

"What? What is it?"

"The condom. It's gone."

"What do you mean, gone?"

"What the fuck do you think I mean? You did put it on me, didn't you?"

"Duh. Of course, I put it on you. Didn't you feel me put it on you? Wait! If it's not on you, where is it?"

"Hate to break this to you, but where do you think it is?"

"Oh, SHIT! How are we going to get it out?"

"Can you feel back there and try to pull it out?"

I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed in my life, having to stick my finger in my ass as I feel for the condom.

"I can't feel it. Are you sure it's in there?"

"Roll over. I'll see if I can reach it."

So, now I'm on all fours, ass in the air, and Brian's got two fingers in my ass, trying to reach the condom.

"I think I feel something, but it's too slippery to get a good grasp on it."

By this point, I'm not sure if I can even look at him. What a way to ruin the night I so carefully planned out.

"Go in the bathroom and sit on the toilet and push as hard as you can. If that doesn't work, we need to get you to the hospital."

My face feels hot, and I'm certain my cheeks are red from being so mortified. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope. Besides, we need to get tested as soon as possible."

"Why me?" I groan.

><><

Sitting on the toilet and pushing with everything in me, I reach behind to see if I can feel it yet.

A few seconds later, relief comes over me as I can finally feel it. I wriggle my finger around it, trying to grab onto the slippery sucker. When I get a firm grasp on it, I pull hard. My ass is burning, but the condom pulls free. Thank God, keeps reverberating in my head. Well, this definitely put a damper on my night.

I come out of the bathroom holding the condom up, pinched between two fingers. "Got it!"

"Fuck. No need to share. You could have just tossed it in the toilet."

I shake my head. "It might stop it up. Putting plastic and other non-paper items down the toilet is a common mistake that can lead to an expensive plumbing bill."

Brian stands there with his mouth hanging open as I cringe. Why am I always saying these stupid kinds of things? I can't help it; they just come out of me.

Before I start giggling at the mental double entendre, I ask, "Can I take a shower? I'm not feeling real clean right now."

"Knock yourself out. You know where it's at."

"Thanks."

I'm not in the shower for much more than a minute, when I feel and hear the door open and Brian steps in. He reaches for the soap, and soon his hands are running down my body as he starts washing me.

Despite what I just went through, I feel myself hardening again, and look down to see that Brian is, too. I drop to my knees, taking him down my throat. I love this man's cock. I love sucking it and getting fucked by it. Before I know it, Brian's shooting, and I surprise myself by swallowing all of it, not wasting a drop.

"Christ, you're gonna wear me out! I'm not sure I can feel my cock anymore," Brian says, as he slumps against the shower wall.

"Let's get to bed. It's okay for me to stay here tonight, isn't it?"

"No problem. We need to go to the clinic first thing in the morning, though. I'll drop you off at home tomorrow when we're done."

><><

They do several tests on us the next day and tell us we'll get the results in three to five days, and to refrain from having sex with anyone else until we do.

I smile all the way home. If Brian Kinney wants a fuck, it's going to have to be with me. Oh, happy day!

Two Months Later...

"Why are you just standing there? Come on, before someone sees us."

"Are you sure we aren't going to get caught?"

"How could we? But we will if you don't get your ass in here."

"No need for a foul mouth. Okay, let's go."

The two people run up the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. Slipping the key into the lock, they open the heavy door, quickly punching in the code.

"There're large garbage bags under the sink. Take one and stuff as much as you can into it. And do it quickly! We need to get out of here."

He starts looking around the living room, trying to figure out what best to take, as she heads into the bedroom. Opening the closet door, she caresses the expensive clothes, loving the feel of them. After selecting a few suits, shirts, ties, and one pair of boots, she starts searching the closet floor and the top shelf. Finding a white box, she takes it down and starts rifling through it. Not much of value. But her heart does flip-flops at the document she holds in her hand. It's a copy of Gus' birth certificate and the ultrasound picture she gave Brian in her sixth month, clearly showing that it was going to be a boy. Upon further inspection, she notices a few loose pictures. Pictures of Justin. Justin and Brian. She wonders when these were taken and by whom.

Throwing the pictures in the bag with the clothes, she reasons with herself that once Brian sees that the loft has been burglarized, he'll never want anything to remind him of Justin again.

She's brought up short when she opens a folded piece of white paper. It's none other than the sketch Justin entered in the GLC art show. It's the one of Brian, completely naked and asleep on the bed. Why would Brian buy this? Well, it's hers now.

She continues going through the bedroom, opening drawers. She finds a sketch pad in one of the drawers. Sitting down on the bed, she starts paging through it, grudgingly envying the talent the kid has. She is still slightly pissed at Brian for missing the birth of their son in favor of being with this boy. What was worse, he barely stayed at the hospital with her once he got there, leaving instead with the boy he planned to take home and fuck. That should have been their night.

In the living room, her accomplice has been going through all the music and DVDs, finding some that go many years back, reminding him of some of the best times they shared. He pauses as he comes to the DVD of The Yellow Submarine, thinking that's a strange movie for Brian to have, before remembering how Brian told him that Justin's mother had given it to him, along with Justin's socks and underwear.

That rotten punk. Everything has gotten so fucked up, ever since Brian picked him up for the first time that night. He has started to spend more and more time with Justin, and less and less with him. Well, once they take the things they want and leave the door unlocked and the alarm disabled, Justin will be gone. There's no way Brian will let him stay after that. With a smug smile, he slips the DVD into the bag with all the other stuff he has managed to find.

They meet in the kitchen and start rummaging through cupboards and drawers, adding this and that to their already full bags. The desk drawer they open before they leave has two credit cards inside; each of them grabs one. They don't plan on using them, but it will infuriate Brian.

Struggling to carry the heavy bags, they walk out of the building a few minutes later. As they laugh and giggle, the man declares, "That ought to take care of Boy Wonder. He can just keep his fat ass off Liberty Avenue permanently once Brian kicks him out. I have to admit... this was a pretty brilliant idea you came up with."

"Well, Brian hasn't come over the last two times I asked him to come and see Gus, saying he and Justin had plans. This ought to get rid of him for good, so Brian will remember who's really important. Besides, he doesn't need Justin. He has us. It's the perfect setup; Justin might deny leaving the loft unlocked and the alarm disabled, but Brian won't buy it."

Throwing their bags in the back of her station wagon, they get in and take off, neither of them paying attention to the man who slowed down as he jogged along the sidewalk.

><><

"Hey, Joe. It's Eddie. Get a hold of that Ford F-150 we used last month and get over to 6 Fuller, corner of Tremont. We have another job. Make it pronto. Not sure how much time we have."

TBC

Chapter 2

JUSTIN:

What a waste of my day! Daphne stopped by this morning, reminding me that today is Molly's birthday.

After Daphne gets an eyeful of Brian in the nude, Brian leaves for a meeting with his new trainer, nagging me about the alarm as he shuts the door behind him. While I draw a picture of Molly for her birthday present, Daphne and I talk about everything. I've been feeling kind of under the weather lately, and Daphne thinks I should go to a doctor. There's just no way I feel I could go. I have no money, and I really don't want to ask either Brian or my mother for money. My picture finally finished, we set out to leave.

"Don't forget. Brian said to ‘be sure to set the alarm'," Daphne reminds me.

I sigh, feeling like some small child being told to make sure my shoelaces are tied. "Daphne, I know what he said. Brian is very anal about some things, and securing the loft is one of them." I smirk. "I bet you can't guess the alarm code."

"If Brian is truly the horndog as you say he is, I'd bet it's 6969."

I feign a shocked expression. "Why Daphne, wherever did you learn terminology like that?"

"Duh, you!"

I grin. "Well, you'd be correct. That's exactly what it is." Chuckling, I add, "How he expects no one to be able to guess it is beyond me." So, I punch in the first 69, and Daphne punches in the second 69.

~ ¤ ~

I didn't stay very long at Molly's party. Mom said she wanted me to reconsider coming home, but when I asked about 'the rules' Dad wanted to be imposed, well, let's just say she seemed more concerned with Dad's feelings than mine.

Now I'm walking around. I'm depressed by Mom's words, and I just feel like being alone for a while. It has been unseasonably warm lately for October. I remember Grandma Hartley using the term 'Indian summer' when I was small. I guess I should head back to the loft, as Brian should be home soon.

~ ¤ ~

WOW! Brian is ranting and raving. Then there's stupid Michael standing there with his hand over his mouth. He's probably trying hard not to laugh. He never has hidden his feelings about me, at least when Brian is not around. When Brian is, he acts completely different towards me. Why did Brian have to call him? I'm sure he's enjoying my humiliation. This isn't even my fault. Daphne was here. She knows I didn't forget!

"JUSTIN!!" Brian's eyes are ablaze, his face contorted with rage. But even as I flinch from his reaction, I don't back down.

"What? What do you want me to say, Brian?"

"I asked, what were you doing while I was getting robbed? I told you there were rules if you were going to live here. I couldn't have made it any clearer that the loft is always supposed to be locked when you leave!"

"Brian, I did..."

"No. You. Did. Not!"

"I went for a walk after I left Molly's birthday party. I wasn't feeling good, and I wanted some fresh air." I know it was probably more of an emotional reaction to my visit back home than a physical one, however. But Brian is acting like he doesn't hear me. Instead, he towers over me, his eyes dark with fury; I have never seen him so angry.

"Well, you have five minutes to pack your shit, none of which was stolen, and get the fuck out of my loft and out of MY life!!!"

"Where am I supposed to go? I can't go back home, Brian. You know that better than anyone."

"I don't give a fuck where you go. Sleep in the park for all I care. Just GET... OUT!!!"

~ ¤ ~

Daphne's House

"Daphne, what am I going to do?" I ask my best friend as we both sit cross-legged on her bed. "Brian wouldn't even let me defend myself. I tried to tell him I DID set the alarm, but he wouldn't even let me talk."

"Justin, I was there. I SAW you set the alarm. I even set the last two numbers! I just don't get it. How could this have happened?"

I shake my head. "I don't know, Daph. But it seems like everybody has a key to his place, not just me. And he brings home so many tricks, it's like he has a revolving door. So why is he so quick to blame ME? The whole thing doesn't make any sense."

"Well, my parents said you could stay here for a few weeks until you can figure something out. How about that one waitress? The crazy one? She seems to like you a lot."

"No way! That's Michael's mother! She probably wouldn't let me stay there anyway, once she finds out Brian is blaming me for the loft being robbed." I briefly cradle my head in my hands, my elbows resting on my knees, before I reply "I don't know what I'm going to do, Daph. But I can't go home."

~ ¤ ~

One Week Later...

I'm half-lying on the bathroom floor, my cheek pressed against the porcelain god, as I literally puke my guts up. Daphne keeps putting fresh, cool cloths on my face and neck.

"Justin, I'm really getting worried. You've been complaining about not feeling well for the last month, and now you've been throwing up for the last three days. Come on; I'm taking you to the doctor."

"I can't, Daphne. I have no money."

"I'll pay. I have the emergency credit card my parents gave me. Just come on. You're really worrying me. You hardly eat anything anymore, and you're losing weight. How can you throw up that much?"

"I don't know, Daph. But it feels like my insides are coming up every time I get sick."

My friend's voice is firm as she tells me in no uncertain terms, "Get in the shower. We're skipping school, and I'm taking you to the emergency room."

Reluctantly, I agree.

~ ¤ ~

"Hello, I'm Dr. Daniels. What seems to be your problem today?"

"Dr. Daniels, I'm Daphne and this is my friend, Justin. He's been feeling sick for the last month and has been vomiting non-stop for three days."

"Any change in your diet that could be the cause of this? Any stress?"

"I've had a lot of stress in my life lately. My father recently asked me to leave home, and I was staying with a friend, but now he's kicked me out, too. As far as changes in my eating, I have no appetite, and usually, it's just the opposite."

The doctor sits on a nearby stool and nods. "That could be caused by stress. I'm going to have my nurse come in and draw some blood, and then I'll be in to take a look at you."

The nurse who draws my blood shortly afterward reminds me a little of Debbie, all bubbly and chatty. Neither Daphne nor I have ever been afraid of needles or the sight of blood, so the whole process goes by quickly.

Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Daniels comes back in with a strange look on his face.

"Justin, how old are you?"

I frown at his question. "Seventeen. Why?"

"How long have you been sexually active?"

I notice an increased pressure on my hand that Daphne has been holding.

"Oh God, doctor. Justin's not sick, is he? I'll kill Brian if he is!"

"No, nothing like that. But I think we've pinpointed the cause of his nausea."

I'm both relieved as well as perplexed now. "I'm not following you, doctor. What exactly is wrong with me?"

The doctor pauses. "Well, it seems that congratulations are in order, Justin. You're about two months pregnant."

WHAT??? Pregnant?

Oh my God! Justin is pregnant!

My mouth hangs open in shock. Of all the possibilities regarding my nausea, that has never entered my mind. "What do you mean pregnant, doc? I've always used a cond..." My voice trails off as a memory suddenly flashes through my mind. Oh, shit...

"What's that, Justin?"

"Um, about two months ago a condom slipped off my boyfriend during sex. We did go in and get tested the next day, but we were both clean."

"You realize you will need to repeat that procedure next month, right?"

"Yes, they told us to come back in three months to repeat the test to be sure."

"Alright. Let me get a little more information, then. How many sexual partners have you had, and have you ever not used protection?"

I feel my face warm as I tell him, "I've only had one sexual partner. Although, my kind-of boyfriend has had quite a few." Hmpf. Major understatement there.

"So, there's no doubt whose baby it is?"

"No, absolutely none. It has to be Brian's."

The doctor nods as he jots down some notes. "Okay, I will refer you to an ob-gyn that specializes in male pregnancy. Would you prefer a male or a female gynecologist?"

I look over at my friend, bewildered by what I have just been told. "Daph? Do you have any suggestions?"

"Do you want another man checking you down there?"

I blush at the thought. "Doctor, I think I'd prefer a woman."

"Alright, I'll get you set up with Dr. Bishop, then. She's in her mid-thirties and I think she will work best for you. Her receptionist will call you with a time to come in. Please take any medical information for yourself or the other father that could be pertinent to your treatment and care. You can get dressed now. Good luck, young man. I wish you the best."

"Thanks, doctor." I shake my head, still in shock as I hear Daphne asking him some parting questions. I'm too stunned to think clearly at the moment.

"Doctor, in the meantime, can you give Justin something for the nausea? And does he need any vitamins?"

"I'll leave two prescriptions at the reception desk - one for nausea and one for a month's supply of prenatal vitamins. Please ask Dr. Bishop to prescribe more when you see her."

~ ¤ ~

One Week Later...

"Justin, I don't care what you say. You have to talk to Brian!"

"Daphne, he made it clear he didn't want anything to do with me. He told me to get out and stay out of his life! Besides, I'm sure he doesn't want to be a father, anyway. He has Gus, whom he rarely sees now. No, there's no point in dragging him into this." I close my eyes, desperately hoping this was all a dream, but knowing it isn't, before I turn to look into her sympathetic face. "Oh, Daph, what the fuck am I gonna do?"

Daphne's not to be dissuaded. "Well, for starters, you and I are going down to Woody's or Babylon tonight, and you, my friend, are going to talk to Brian. He won't scream at you there. He might actually listen. You HAVE to tell him."

"I don't know, Daph. I think it will be a big mistake."

~ ¤ ~

Babylon, 11 PM

Daphne and I have been searching Babylon for about five minutes when my arm is roughly grabbed, and I almost lose my balance. I look up to see a very angry-looking Michael.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Brian."

"Well, he's in the backroom, where he belongs! Now that he's finally rid of you, he's back to being himself. Why are you looking for him, anyway? And why is your little fag hag with you?"

"None of your business, Michael! I just need to speak to Brian; then I'll be leaving."

"No."

"No? What do you mean, no?"

"Brian told you to get lost. He told you to get out of his life. I will not allow you to mess with him again. Go on; get out of here! If you don't, I'll get a bouncer to throw you out! You're underage. They shouldn't have let you in here to begin with. I'll call the cops if I have to. Now leave! You're not wanted anymore! Brian finally wised up and kicked your ass to the curb."

"I'm not afraid of you!" I can't help yelling at him. But I also don't want to get tangled up with the cops under the circumstances, either.

Daphne grabs my arm to restrain me from doing something I might regret later. "Come on, Justin. I'm sorry I had you come down here. Brian's apparently having his little lapdog fight his battles for him."

"Get. Out. Of. Here! I'm calling the cops!"

"Fine, we're leaving." There is NO way in hell I'm going to tell this hateful, possessive ‘friend' of Brian's why I need to talk to him. I won't give him the satisfaction, since I know he would just distort it somehow to blame me for my present condition. I can't help one more jab, however. "Are you happy now, Mikey? You've got Brian all to yourself now. You've wanted me gone since that first night Brian took me home and fucked me. Well, congratulations! You got your wish! But if you think he's going to magically fall in love with you and fuck you now, you are totally deluded!" I angrily brush away the tears that fall down my face - damn hormones! - as I glare daggers at him before turning on my heel and heading toward the entrance with Daphne right behind me.

TBC

Chapter 3

"Daphne, I just have to get out of here, somehow. I swear that Michael is stalking me! He's showing up just a little too frequently at places I don't think I should be seeing him."

"I know, Jus. It kind of freaked me out when we came out of that little restaurant the other day, and he was leaning against the building."

"Yeah, and that was in our neighborhood."

"True. It has to be at least a half-hour ride by bus to come over here from Liberty Avenue. I wonder what he wants?"

"He's probably trying to warn me that he means it when he said he wanted me to stay away from Brian. It's been close to three weeks now since we visited Babylon, and I'm sure we've seen him five times."

"Seven."

"What?"

"You said five. It's been seven."

"How do you know that?"

"Duh! You underestimate the power of a pissed-off woman. You know that little device called a cell phone? It takes pictures. And I just happened to have my options turned on, so it's stamped with location, time, and date."

"You're a good friend; the best, Daph. I don't know what I would have done without you these past few weeks. But what good are all these pictures going to do us?"

Daphne lets out a heavy sigh as she peers over at me. "Remind me to never get pregnant. It's apparently impairing your brain cells. Justin, you're one of the smartest guys I know! Think about it! What would be a good reason to have this information?"

Justin can't help smiling at his friend's sleuthing. "Ahh, okay, Nancy Drew. Who do you suggest we send the pictures to?"

Daphne's eyes twinkled as she grins. "That's my Jus!"

~ ¤ ~

Liberty Diner

I have to smile affectionately as my mother licks the end of her pencil before holding it over her order pad. How many times in my life have I seen her do that? "Morning, boys! Besides Mr. Wonderful here, what will the rest of you have?"

I huff back at her in irritation. "Ma, lay off Brian."

"Why?" She counters, her hands on her hips. "He kicked Sunshine out! Do you even know where he is? How he's living? Where he's living?"

I snort. "He's back over in rich LaLa Land."

Brian's eyes narrow. "How do you know that, Mikey?"

"Uh, well, of course, he is, Brian," I stammer. "Where else would he be?"

"But you said, "He's back in LaLa Land. You didn't say that's where he probably is. You said it like you know that for a fact."

I briefly avoid his eyes, focusing on our other friends in the booth; I can feel the heat on my face. "Brian, it was just a slip of the tongue. I mean, come on, guys! Isn't that where you think he is?" Silence reigns then, making me squirm, until at last Emmett speaks up.

"Deb, I'll just take water this morning," Emmett says as he places the menu down and folds his hands on top of the table.

"Come on, Em. You need to eat some of your protein off a plate."

I laugh when Em explains, "I read that for every thirty pounds you lose, you gain an entire inch of cock."

"Mmm... You lose thirty pounds, and you'll be too weak to get it up!" Debbie exclaims with a snap of her gum.

"Coffee, Deb?" Brian reminds her with a roll of his eyes, flicking his long index finger at the napkin in front of him.

"Me, too!" Emmett chirps. "Uh... and some bacon and scrambled eggs." Debbie grins with satisfaction.

"It's Friday; who's all up for Babylon, tonight?" I ask, thinking about how much fun it will be to dance with Brian without a certain stalker hanging around.

"Not me. I'm passing tonight."

My face contorts with dismay. "Briiaannn, you said that..."

"Stop, Michael! Don't even go there! Keep your mouth shut. I've already warned you twice. Open it again, and you aren't going to like the consequences." Brian abruptly slides out of the booth and stands up, announcing, "I'm leaving, cancel the coffee."

And with that, he turns and leaves without another word. I swear, I thought once we got rid of that blond boy ass, things would go back to normal. But this past week he won't even come out with us, he's touchy, and he's even been snapping at me. He acts like he misses that fucking little twink! If I could just get that little shit alone instead of him always having his little fag hag with him...

"Ted, Em, what do you think is wrong with Brian lately?"

"Seriously, Michael?" Ted asks. "Justin has been gone for almost a month now! Nobody has heard from him. Jennifer won't take Debbie's calls. I'm sure Brian is regretting being so harsh with him."

I scoff. "Brian doesn't do regrets."

Emmett shook his head at me. "Aren't you even a little bit worried about him?" Before I can even respond with a retort to that, Em, too, slides out of the booth and stands to face Ted and me. "You know what, Teddy? I don't feel like coffee, either this morning. You stay if you want. I'm leaving."

"Hold up. I'm coming with you, Em. Goodbye, Michael." I sit here, alone, with my mouth open in shock. What the hell's wrong with everyone?

 ~ ¤ ~

Big Q

Bob Barbarosa's Office

"Come in!"

"Bob, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, Andrew. What can I do for you?"

"There are two police detectives here to see you."

The other man sighs. "Shoplifters again? You can handle it. I've got a shitload of paperwork to do here."

Andrew shakes his head. "No, they say it's a personal matter."

Barbarosa frowns, thinking about how they've never had to summon the police here, unless it was related to theft. "Okay; send them in." He watches as Andrew opens the door wider to allow two men to enter as he stands up to greet them. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" He shakes one of the policemen's hands as he motions for them to have a seat in front of his desk while he resumes sitting.

"Mr. Barbarosa, my name is Detective Horvath, and this is Detective Stewart. Do you have a Michael Novotny working for you?"

Barbarosa exchanges a look with Andrew, who has chosen to remain in the room; he's standing off to the side, silently observing. "Mike? Why, yes. But may I ask why the police are looking for him?" Novotny was one of the most innocuous - if not bland - employees he managed. He's the last person he would expect the police to be asking him about.

"First, can you tell us if he is a full-time employee? The information we received indicates that he normally works the day shift."

"Yes, Mike works 9-6, Monday through Friday. Again, may I ask why all these questions?"

"We received some photographs in the mail, and it was suggested we come and speak to you regarding them. The pictures show what appears to be your employee tailing a couple of people during business hours. Can you verify if he was at work during the time in question?"

"Bob, may I interject here?"

"Yes, Andrew?"

"If you recall, I informed you on three different occasions when we couldn't locate Mr. Novotny. When he was questioned, he claimed one time that he had to go home and change after he spilled something on his clothes. Another time he said his mother called with an emergency regarding his Uncle Vic, and the other time, he said he'd been busy in the storage room. And the two times when he admitted being out of the store, he didn't clock out, supposedly because he had been in such a hurry that he forgot." Andrew hides the smile that threatens to escape his lips; he detests that sniffling weasel.

"Thank you, Andrew. Detectives, how can you be so sure that these photos were taken during business hours? I'd like to see them to verify it really IS my employee."

"Here's the seven we received. It's definitely the same man in each photo. This is your employee, Michael Novotny, correct?"

"Yes, yes it is. Again, though, how can you be so sure of the time?"

"Mr. Barbarosa, we've checked the Metadata of each photo and found that most of them were taken in the middle of the afternoon, except for one taken early in the morning. By using Metadata, we have pinpointed the date, time, and location of each photo."

Barbarosa nods, rendered momentarily speechless and angry that someone he's trusted has apparently betrayed that trust. He curtly tells his employee, "Andrew, please go tell Mr. Novotny to come to my office immediately."

Andrew nods. "Sure thing, Bob," he replies politely; as he turns his back on them, smiling smugly. Someone's ass is in big trouble...

"We're sorry you have to take time away from your responsibilities, Mr. Barbarosa. But this is the only contact information we have regarding Mr. Novotny's whereabouts."

"That's quite alright. No problem. I want to get to the bottom of this as much as YOU do."

"Bob?" Barbarosa peers up from his desk, looking over at the door.

"Yes, Andrew? Where's Mike?"

Andrew sighs as he shakes his head. "There's a problem, Bob. It seems Mike has not shown up for work yet today."

"Damn."

~ ¤ ~

St. James Academy

"Hey, kid. I need to speak with Justin Taylor. Can you get him for me?"

"Why should I help you?" The unidentified student smirks at him. "What? Are you one of his fuck buddies? Do you take it up the ass, or does he?"

Michael glares at him; he doesn't have time for this bullshit. A new tactic is needed. He chooses to ignore the kid's smartass questions as he replies, "Listen," he tells the burly-looking student. He reaches inside his pocket to retrieve the bundle there. "Here's a hundred bucks if you do what I say... fifty now, fifty once I see you've followed through on my instructions. Go tell him that Brian is waiting for him over by that big oak tree." He points toward a large, sprawling oak located approximately fifty yards away. "Well? Do we have a deal?" he asks the kid, peeling off five tens and holding it out to the guy.

The student grins a crooked smile; with THAT kind of money, he didn't care WHAT the queer did as long as he wasn't there to witness it. "Why the hell not? Give me the cash; I'll give him the information."

~ ¤ ~

A Few Minutes Later...

"Brian, are you out here?" Justin asks, his heart racing in anticipation.

"Boy Wonder." Michael steps out from his position behind the large trunk of the tree. "Just who I wanted to see."

Justin glares over at him in irritation, now aware that he's been tricked. "Michael. What the fuck are you doing here? What do you want?"

Michael smiles grimly. "I'm going to do you a favor and give you a warning. Disappear. Leave Pittsburgh. I don't care where the hell you go, but I want you gone. If not, I know a couple of bears that would love to have a piece of that fat ass of yours. And don't even think about telling anyone about this conversation, or your little Miss Fag Hag will be the recipient instead, and when she least expects it."

TBC

Chapter 4

"Justin, how could you let this happen?"

"Mom, I didn't let anything happen! Accidents happen! Brian and I have always used condoms! But all this is beside the point, Mom. I came to you for help. Are you willing to help me, or am I just leaving on my own?"

"Why are you so adamant about leaving town?"

"Mom, what will Dad say when he finds out? How will he react? Christ, Mom, he hit me just for me saying I'm gay! What's going to happen when he hears this piece of news?"

I see Mom virtually flinch when I say hit, but I don't care. It's her fault Dad found out and went ballistic in the first place. As far as I'm concerned, Mom owes me this.

"Justin," Mom sighs. "Are you sure this is what you want? What about school? Your friends? Daphne?"

"I can go to school when I get out there. Daphne will understand. I just can't face anybody! I've known these kids all my life. Can't you see that my life will be hell at school?"

My mother holds her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. I can't promise anything, but I'll give June a call."

"Just don't tell anyone about this. I don't want you telling anyone where I am! I don't want you telling anyone I'm going to have a baby. Promise me this, Mom! You told me you love me. Here's your chance to prove it to me." She looks at me helplessly - or is that frustration? - before she finally nods her agreement.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Los Angeles International Airport. Local time is 4:03 p.m. and the temperature is 73 degrees Fahrenheit.

Please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until the Captain turns off the ‘Fasten Seat Belt' sign for your safety. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about the plane. At this time, you may use your cellular phones if you wish.

Please check around your seat for any personal belongings you may have brought on board with you and please use caution when opening the overhead bins, as heavy articles may have shifted around during the flight.

If you require deplaning assistance, please remain in your seat until all other passengers have disembarked. One of our crew members will then be pleased to assist you.

On behalf of American Airlines and the entire crew, I'd like to thank you for joining us on this trip. We look forward to having you travel with us again. Have a nice stay!"

As I jerk awake, I realize that I must have slept during most of the flight. It has been a stress-filled three days. After convincing Mom it would be better for me to stay with Aunt June until the baby comes, she arranged it. Aunt June sounded excited that I would be coming and said she'd have everything ready for my arrival. I swallow hard and start preparing to depart from the plane. The last thing I ever thought I would be doing is attending my senior year of high school in California while being pregnant. I just hope Daphne understands when she finds out I left.

MICHAEL:

"I'm telling you, officer. I was worried about the kid. He was like a little brother to me. When my friend kicked him out of his loft, the kid had no place to go. His father had already kicked him out of his home. I was just watching out for him, making sure he was okay. I meant absolutely no harm." I can feel the sweat prickling my forehead, and I hope the man doesn't interpret it as a sign of deception.

"Michael?" I turn in relief as I see Lindsay rushing over to me.

"Lindsay, it's about time you got here! I was just trying to explain to Detective Stewart how much Justin means to us, and how I was making sure he was okay." As luck would have it, Lindsay told me she was friends with Stewart growing up as they were neighbors. I had found out what his rotation was, so I could make sure to be at the police station at the proper time.

"Hey, Harry. Michael's absolutely right. Justin means so much to all of us. Did you know that I helped him get his drawings into the GLC art show? The kid is really talented. We would just hate to see anything untoward happen to him. Can't you let Michael go just this once? As a favor to me?" Just like an Oscar award-winning actress, she smiles and bats her eyelashes coyly, brushing her long, blonde hair back from her face.

"I'm not sure I can do that, Lindsay. Horvath will have my ass."

I notice Lindsay lightly touching her friend's arm, as I do my best to disguise the smug expression that threatens to break out all over my face. "Harry, why don't we go for coffee, and maybe we can make some kind of arrangement?"

"Ah, shoot, Lindsay... okay, alright. I will let him go on one condition. He has to stop following those kids around and promise to stay away from them. That's what Social Services is for."

"No problem, right, Michael?"

I smile, relieved that our ruse has worked. "Yeah, no problem."

As I leave the police station, I can't help snickering to myself. I told Lindsay this plan of hers better not backfire, because I would take her down with me. As it is, she needs to get me $1,500, since Barbarosa put me on a two-week suspension without pay. He also threatened to drop me back down to cashier if I receive one more infraction against me. Lindsay better hope that doesn't happen, or she will be supplementing my income. She's not aware of my visit with Boy Wonder at the school the other morning, but the couple of times I have caught sight of his little fag hag, I haven't seen him. I can only hope he heeded my warning and is gone.

JUSTIN:

I see Aunt June almost the minute I arrive inside the terminal. I still can't get over how much she and Mom look alike. If it wasn't for the year difference, a person could mistake them for twins.

"Justin? Over here!"

I break out in a huge smile as I see Aunt June waving frantically at me. "Hey, Aunt June. It's so good to see you. Thank you so much for this," I tell her as she grabs me in a bear hug.

"Hey, you know I would do anything for my favorite godson."

I smile; it's a common joke between us whenever we talk. "I believe I'm your only godson."

"That's beside the point. So, are you going to tell me what in the world is going on? Your mom was kind of vague on the phone, and only told me that circumstances didn't allow you to stay in Pittsburgh for your senior year."

I sigh; I'm not surprised my Mom didn't reveal too many details. "Uh, she didn't tell you the reason for my needing to come out here?"

She shakes her head as she peers at me quizzically. "Not specifically." She pauses before changing the subject. "Here, let's get your luggage and we can talk in the car. Are you hungry? We can stop somewhere, or I can make something when we get home."

"Can we stop and get a pizza at DeSano's?"

She laughs, causing me to look over at her and grin. "Why am I not surprised? I think the last time you, your mother, and Molly were here, you harangued your mother and me almost daily for one of those."

"Hey, what can I say? They are like the BEST pizza made! For one thing, they're baked in a brick oven to make the crust crispy, and they don't skimp on the ooey-gooey, bubbly cheese that's just a little bit charred."

"Are you writing commercials now, or doing PSA announcements?" she teases me.

"Uh, no. I just really like the way they make it," I say with a touch of wistfulness, instantly thinking of Brian at the mention of ‘PSA.'

"So, how's Molly?" my aunt asks as we head toward the correct carousel to retrieve my luggage.

"She's fine. She just had her tenth birthday a few months ago. Mom threw her a big party. I didn't stay long. I drew a picture of her for her present." I scrunch up my nose. "She seemed less than thrilled with it, but maybe someday she will appreciate it. After what Mom said, though, I just didn't feel like sticking around for long."

"Can I ask what happened?"

I close my eyes and let the memory wash over me, before saying, "I walked in and Molly came up to me and asked what I got her, and I told her, ‘permission to live' before handing her the sketch I had drawn of her ... (I chuckle despite myself) ... then she gave me kind of a half-hearted smile and walked back to her friends. Then Mom cornered me, peppering me with questions."

"Are you eating enough? You're staying for dinner," Mom asked.

"That depends on whether Dad wants to see me."

"Of course he wants to see you; he's as upset about this as much as you are, and wants you to come home."

"What about the rules? Not going out, not seeing Brian, not talking about my ‘disgusting lifestyle'?"

Mom got kind of defensive, before saying, "I don't think he meant it that way."

"Well, what did he mean?"

"Honey, Dad just wants everything to be 'as it was'."

My heart breaking a little, I tell her, "But it can't be. I'm not that person anymore."

"I don't want you to pretend to be someone you're not, but I have to consider the needs of the whole family, not just your desires."

Molly chose that moment to call for Mom, and Mom gave me one last woeful look before leaving me standing alone in the backyard.

"And, that's when I decided to leave."

"Where did you go?"

"Back to Brian's."

"Brian's? I don't recall you ever mentioning him. Is that a new friend?"

I stop to look over at her as passengers file by us. "Uh... Aunt June? What exactly has my mother told you about my life these past four months?"

She shrugs. "Not a lot," she concedes. "I haven't really talked to her much lately. With my promotion at work, I do have to travel on occasion. By the way, will it be a problem if I need to be gone a few days at a time? I didn't want to say anything to Jennifer about that. I figured I would just talk to you."

I shake my head in reassurance. "No, of course not." I cock my head toward the suitcases rotating around the carousel. "There's my luggage; why don't we talk in the car?"

"Sure, honey," she agrees as I snatch my duffel bag and carry-on piece and place it on the ground beside us.

Fifteen minutes later we leave the airport behind. I call in the pizza order on the way, hoping it will be ready when we arrive, but no such luck. I opt to stay in the car while Aunt June goes inside to wait since we still have twenty minutes left. I fiddle with my phone for a bit, thinking I should really call Daph. Then the time difference hits me, and for the first time, I realize just how difficult it will be to keep in contact with my best friend outside of the weekends. Could I go for five days without speaking to her? No, I don't believe I can. I'm just going to have to make sure I'm around in the early evening so I can call Daphne right before she's ready for bed. Yeah, that should work. Then her parents won't be hollering at her to get off the phone and do her homework. I just hope Aunt June has a good calling plan. With that thought in mind, I jump slightly when the driver's door opens. With a sigh of relief, I'm glad to see my aunt handing me the extra-large box of pizza. My mouth waters at the sight.

"Wow, that smells amazing! Do I have to wait until we get back to your place to have a slice?" I ask her.

I smile broadly when she replies, "No, you don't. There are extra napkins in the glove box; just try not to get any sauce on the seat or floorboard."

"You sound like Brian." The words are out of my mouth before I can think about it.

"Brian again?" she asks as she starts up the car.

"Uh, can it wait until we get to your place, please?" I mumble between bites from the slice I'm holding above the box, pausing to lick some sauce from the corner of my mouth.

"Alright, deal. But I want you to promise me something."

"Uhh... what?" I hedge.

"Stop calling it my place. It's your home now, too. So, please just say home."

"Contrary to calling my old home Dad's place," I mumble.

My aunt peers over at me as she pulls out into the street. "You need to speak up. I didn't quite catch that."

I smile brightly at her before saying, "It doesn't bear repeating." I lick some of the savory pizza sauce off my fingers before waving my hand in the air and commanding, "Now, once around the park, and then home, James."

"Smartass."

I can't help laughing. It feels good to laugh for a change.

Movie quotes, Justin?

"Language, Aunt June?" I fire back with a grin.

"Come now, Justin. Really? Me? I thought you knew better. Have you really forgotten why your father always hated it when you and Molly were around me when you were younger?"

"No... not that I care what that homophobe thinks, anyway."

"Justin..."

"No. When we get home."

"Well, it will be about five more minutes."

"By the way, how much of this pizza do you want?" I ask as I reach for another slice.

"How much is left?" she inquires; I can see her brows kind of scrunching together.

"I could spare a couple of slices," I tease.

"Good thing I don't want any more than that, then, huh?" She shakes her head at me in amazement. "I'll never figure out where you put all that food and stay so slim. I could call you a foul name for that... but I won't," she adds as I chuckle. "You must keep very busy, young man."

I blush. If only she knew how I normally kept ‘busy.' "Well, you've always stayed fit yourself," I reply sincerely.

"Flatterer," she banters back as we both laugh. She slows down the car and turns into the driveway. "Well, we're here. I'll take the pizza and your backpack. Can you handle the two suitcases?" She laughs as I gaze anxiously at the now almost empty carry-out box. "Don't worry; your food's safe with me. I'm a lady of my word."

"Well... okay," I reply with a chuckle, smiling as I follow her up the sidewalk.

She shakes her head in good humor as she exclaims, "Teenagers! You, my dear, I'm going to have to get used to again."

"But you love me," I reply.

She stops at the front door and inserts her key in the lock before she turns and gives me a warm look. Leaning over, she gives me a quick caress with the palm of her right hand before stating, "Yeah, I do. But you STILL have to bring in all the luggage!" she adds with a grin.

And with that, my aunt disappears into the house, leaving me with my mouth agape in mock indignation as I struggle with my two bulging suitcases. Aunt June lives in a very upscale neighborhood. If I weren't missing Daphne so much, I could almost look forward to my new life. There isn't anyone else at that damned school that I will miss. But Daph... Daphne and I are like hot chocolate and marshmallows. You have to have both in order to make it work.

Apart we are great, but together, I honestly think we could conquer the world. Well, maybe not the world, but we are better than 'great'. That damned Michael! If not for his threat against Daphne, I wouldn't have been forced to take such drastic measures, but I couldn't knowingly put Daphne in harm's way. And Michael is just mean enough and nasty enough to carry through with the threat he made. I'm not sure why the cops didn't investigate or follow up more thoroughly after we sent the pictures to them, but I know I've caught a glimpse of Michael a couple of times. So that turned out to be a waste of time.

I take a moment to look up at the house. Aunt June's house is amazing. Four years ago, she bought an old Tudor-style home here in L.A. in a quiet neighborhood. She drew up most of the remodeling plans herself before hiring someone to come in and carry out the designs.

Before that, she was married for thirteen years to an affluent man from Texas who came into old money through his father's inheritance. Matthew perished during a freak accident that happened when a crane collapsed during a violent windstorm. Apparently, the crane operator hadn't engaged the brake after he was done working for the day. The seventy-five mile per hour gusts proved too much, and the crane toppled over; Matthew, unfortunately, got caught under the falling debris.

After things were settled, Aunt June had the opportunity to transfer to LA with her job and took the position without a second thought. I don't think to this day she has any regrets. My mother was not happy, though. She wanted her to move to the Pittsburgh area, but I was aware of the eye roll she gave Mom at that suggestion even at thirteen. Besides, she has never hidden her qualms about Craig. There is no way she would ever willingly live anywhere near him.

As I walk into the foyer, I instantly remember the first time I saw the sprawling staircase. If I had been younger, I think the first thing I would have tried to do was slide down the thing. I'm surprised Molly never attempted it. I know Daphne and I would have.

Ugh, thoughts of Daphne assail me again. I'm definitely calling her tonight. I will not tell her about Michael's threat, though. I don't want her to get paranoid. I will just explain that I can't handle facing all the homophobes in our school while I'm pregnant. I'm sure she will understand. And as long as she can't see my face when I say it, I should be able to convince her.

"Aunt June? I'm going to take my suitcases upstairs!" I holler out, leaving one at the landing as I trudge up the steps with the other.

"That's fine, Justin. Just so you know, the pizza is really good!" she yells back at me.

"Hey, two slices, remember?" I remind her, but I know she's just teasing me.

"Yes, love. By the way, I readied the room at the end of the hall with the slanted ceilings for you."

"Thanks!" Yes! I love that room. It's got lots of windows and French doors leading to an attached balcony that overlooks the pool and hot tub.

After the trek upstairs, practically dragging one suitcase and then the other behind me, I collapse on the bed for a few minutes, in order to catch my breath. Glancing out at the pool for a minute, I then make my way downstairs, very happy to see only two slices of pizza missing.

"Justin, if you want to change the rug or bedding into your own style, I have no problem with that. You can just check the internet for Perigold's and see what you would like."

"No, that's not necessary," I assure her as I sit down at the kitchen table, my mouth watering for more pizza. "Oh, by the way, here's a check from Mom for you," I say as I take it out of my wallet and hand it to her. Her eyes grow large as she reads what it says.

"A thousand dollars? Gosh, I don't quite know what to say. But I'm not taking the money, Justin. We can go to the bank tomorrow and open an account for you. You keep the money. That way, you'll be able to buy anything you might need for school."

I shake my head. "I don't feel right keeping it, Aunt June. And I know Mom wouldn't be happy."

"Well, she just doesn't need to know," she replies determinedly as she signs the back of the check over to me and I reluctantly accept it.

I reach for another piece of pizza, unable to prevent an 'mmm' from escaping my lips at the familiar taste of the sauce. "Will I need uniforms?"

"No. I was actually able to get you into LACHSA, and..."

I hold my pizza slice in mid-air as what she says registers. "Wait! LACHSA?"

"Yes. You know... The Los Angeles County School for the Arts. I'm acquainted with two different board members there, so after they saw the portrait you drew of me last year, I..."

I drop the slice of pizza down onto the cardboard box in shock. "NO! You didn't!"

"Yes, I did, and they felt it was excellent enough that they waived the audition/portfolio review, too. You're in, dear. LACHSA is ranked #1 for public arts high schools. There is only one high school ranked higher in LA, and that's a private school. This is not only tuition-free, but it doesn't require uniforms. You are required to wear neat clothing, no see-through clothing, no writing on any articles... clothes, backpacks, water bottles..."

"I get it. Geez... I can't believe I will actually be able to go to an art school! Aunt June, you are amazing!"

She holds up her hand to caution me, "Just be forewarned, some of the students are a bit pretentious, and the school is definitely utilitarian, but the faculty is great; some of the best in their fields..."

"Okay, already. I get it! I can handle that." Anything would be better than back home, I think before a concern appears in my mind. "Do they offer bus service?"

"Yes, but... you remember that black '95 Lexus I have that's just sitting unused?"

"With the spoiler? No way!!!"

"Way... as you say," she replies with a laugh. "Even though it has a nav system, we will spend the weekend driving around so you can get accustomed to the traffic here and learn your way around. Just, please, drive carefully! Your mother would disown me if you got into an accident."

I shake my head in amazement. "I was so worried about coming out here, but everything seems like it's working out really well."

"I'm glad," she tells me. She pauses for a moment before she asks, "So... are you ready to tell me what's going on, and why you're here?"

I scrub my hands over my face and rub my temples before simply saying, "I'm gay, and Dad kicked me out because I wouldn't abide by his rules and give up my 'disgusting' lifestyle." I use air quotes to emphasize the word.

"Okay, that doesn't surprise me. Your father has always been an unreasonable idiot." She clasps her hands together and peers over at me as she asks softly, "So...you want to tell me who Brian is?"

"He was kind of my boyfriend, but he kicked me out when he thought I had forgotten to lock his loft door and he got robbed. But I swear, Aunt June! I locked it! Daphne was with me and can vouch for it."

"So, you basically had nowhere to go." She takes a deep breath and smiles at me, "Well, that won't be a problem now," she assures me as I gratefully return her smile.

I nod. "Yes, that's what I'm saying. Aunt June... there's one more thing you need to know." I swallow hard as I meet her gaze.

She raises an eyebrow. "There's more?"

"Unfortunately, yes, and I really hope you aren't going to hate me after I tell you."

"Dear, you're my nephew. I could never hate you. What is it you need me to know?"

I drop my eyes and inhale a shaky breath before letting it out and saying, "What're your thoughts on becoming a great aunt?"

Chancing a peek at my aunt, I catch the look of surprise that flashes across her face, right before I see the crystal goblet she was holding, slide through her hand and shatter into a hundred pieces onto the hardwood floor.

TBC

Chapter 5

BRIAN:

It's been a little over six months since that dreadful day in my loft when I kicked Justin out, and there's hardly been a day since then that I haven't regretted it. Closing my eyes at night, I still can't escape the look of desolation on Justin's face when I told him to pack his shit and get out. I was so angry at the time. I had never felt such blind rage. Was it only because my loft had been robbed, or - if I was totally honest with myself - was it also partly due to having to send Mr. Buff on his way without a fuck? And other than my files, everything was replaceable. I guess my files were, too, as I had copies on my computer at work. But put in the wrong hands, they could have been detrimental. Apparently, the thief wasn't interested in going after my clients, as there hasn't been anyone suddenly leaving our firm to join another or any other signs of sabotage, so by this time, I feel I can safely rule out that possibility.

I still remember how both Lindsay and Michael tried to help me fill out my lost inventory report, until scathing comments about Justin angered me and I kicked them out. Mikey's jabs didn't surprise me too much; I knew he'd disliked Justin pretty much from the start. I'm convinced he was jealous of him, because he had displayed those feelings many times before. Now Lindsay, that surprised me. I was always under the impression she really liked Justin. It wasn't until Emmett and Ted said something one night at the diner that I found out the truth. Mikey had a date that night with the insufferable Dr. Dave, and we were shooting the breeze before going to Woody's. Emmett had been a little pissy with me ever since learning about the conversation at the loft, which Mikey took great pleasure retelling, in great detail, to everyone in the diner the following morning. Emmett was very vocal about how I had spoken to a seventeen-year-old who had just defied his father and said he was never going home.

But that night at the diner, he commented how Michael and Lindsay appeared to be so much happier now that Justin was gone. When I questioned why he had included Lindsay, he glanced at Ted, who suddenly found the table very interesting.

"Theodore, you care to shine any light on that?"

Ted fidgeted with his cutlery before he replied, "Not really, Bri."

"Uh-huh. Bullshit. I want to know what you know that I don't."

Ted sighed out a deep breath as he finally peered over at me. "Just remember, I'm only the messenger. It was something Mel said to me one day when we were having lunch."

"And?" Silence reigned until my patience ran out. "Christ, you're worse than an abscessed tooth! Spit it out!"

"The girls are having a few problems..."

"Dykes! Relationships! I've always said, I don't believe in..."

"...love. I believe in fucking. It's honest, it's efficient, you get out with a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of bullshit," Emmett helpfully supplied as I glared over at him. "We know, Brian, you prove it all the time. Although lately, you don't seem to be..."

"Enough, Honeycutt! We don't need your innate wisdom. Are you going to finish, Ted?"

"It's just Melanie is feeling a little left out. Lindsay is always gushing about you, about the great genes you passed on to Gus, about how she can't wait for your next visit so you guys can go to the park again, and..."

I raise my hand to ward off his continued rambling. "I've heard enough. Why haven't you said something before now?" I'm starting to get pissed.

"I don't know, Bri. Melanie is starting to think she should just leave. You never signed over your parental rights as you promised, and Lindsay is acting like you are her family, not Mel. And Mel asked me not to say anything; it's as simple as that," Ted said with a small shrug.

"Christ! Well, you boys have a good night. I'm outta here."

"Brian, where are you going?" Emmett hollered out.

"Home. The party's canceled."

That was a month ago, and since then, I've made very few visits to see Gus. And if I do, I've made it a point to call Mel and see if she's home before stopping over. No more spending my lunch hour with Lindsay and Gus at the park anymore. Once I came down from my anger at Justin, I found that I was clinging to Gus to make up for the loss of Justin. I also found myself rethinking relinquishing my parental rights. I just couldn't willingly give him up, too.

So, as I stand smoking at the window in the dawn of a new day with these thoughts running through my mind, I know I have a decision to make. I let the smoke swirl in my mouth, feeling the bitterness settle on my tongue, then draw it deep into my throat before exhaling slowly. Silently, I watch the white clouds dissolve from the darkness of the loft. I still can't believe I said those things to Justin. My anger about the robbery had clouded my judgment. Now, Justin hasn't even been around for me to apologize. I guess I'm learning not all apologies are bullshit, because I definitely owe Justin one. I decide that I can't put it off any longer. I need to go to St. James and track Justin down, if for no other reason than to make sure he has had his follow-up appointments for HIV testing. I also have another decision to make; depending on what Justin says to me this afternoon when I stop at the school. Hopefully then, it'll make it easier to decide.

DAPHNE:

As I leave school today, I find myself letting out another sigh. I miss Justin so much. School is just not the same without him here. Despite our nightly phone calls, it's not the same as being together; to offer mutual hugs and encouragement, to commiserate with each other, to support each other. The conversation I had with him two months ago when he called to tell me he had left Pittsburgh is never far from my mind.

My phone ringing with 'Justin' lighting up on the screen had me scrambling to answer it. I hadn't heard from him today. He was gone when I got up this morning, so now that it was almost 10 p.m., I was on edge. I hadn't dared call his mother, either; I didn't want to worry anyone unnecessarily. But thoughts of Michael were lingering in the back of my mind. That little, weaselly scumbucket has been nothing but trouble since Justin met Brian.

"Justin? Where the hell are you? Are you okay? Talk to me!" I practically shouted into the phone.

"Well, if you would stop rambling on and on for a minute, I'd be able to tell you," was the curt reply.

"Hey! You can't blame ME. I've been worried all day! I kept thinking that Michael..."

"No. Don't worry about Michael. But I do have something to tell you, and I think you should be sitting down for this."

"God, Justin! Melodramatic, much? Now, what's so important? Tell me, already! Okay, I'm sitting," I said, even though I was anything but; I couldn't quit anxiously pacing.

"Daph, promise me you won't hate me..."

"Geez! Justin, I could NEVER hate you! Now you're really starting to freak me out! Just tell me!"

"Okay, make sure you remember that." He paused for a few seconds before stating, "I'm in California."

I scoffed. "Yeah, right. Now tell me where you really are."

"I'm TRYING!" I heard him sigh before saying, "Do you remember when I went over and talked to Mom a few days ago? Well, I talked her into calling Aunt June, whose house I'm at right now, and I'm going to finish the school year out here."

As I flopped on my bed, I heard myself whisper in despair, "No."

"Daph, come on! I need your support on this."

"But why there?"

"Daphne, my life would have been a living hell if I had stayed back there. Surely you can understand that! I've never encountered a bigger group of hypocritical homophobes in my life! They preach tolerance, but that's the last thing they practice at St. James. I probably would have been ostracized completely! You know what it's been like since I came out!"

"But Justin, this just isn't you! Where's the guy who always stuck up for himself and never took anything lying down? You've never given a damn what anybody thought! So, tell me what this is REALLY about. I don't buy what you're telling me for a second! There is more to this story than you are telling me. I know you as well as I know myself, and you can be sure if it were me, I wouldn't have cared what anyone thought!"

Justin huffed in exasperation. "Daphne, can't you just let it drop, and accept what I'm telling you?" He attempts a half-chuckle. "Besides, you should see how cool it is out here!" His attempt at humor and changing the subject, however, falls flat.

"JUSTIN!!! Stop! Tell me what's going on! NOW!!"

I heard him sigh heavily before he rocked my world. "Michael paid me a visit at St. James three days ago and threatened me. He said if I didn't leave town, he would send someone after you. Not me. YOU! Don't you see, Daph? I HAD to protect you!"

I stood there in horror as the real reason for my friend's hasty departure washes over me like a tidal wave. How could Michael have said such a thing? Was he actually serious? I found it hard to believe. But I knew, though, that either way Justin would do anything to keep me safe, just like I would for him. "Oh, my God, Justin! I'd like to shove that idiot into a dumpster somewhere - or lock him in the diner's walk-in freezer! Do you really think he would carry that out?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "HE would never have the guts to do it. But getting someone else to do it? I can see him doing that for his Brian." He spat out the word 'Brian' as if it were a sour taste on his tongue.

We then talked about everything else that was happening, only hanging up after I agreed to NOT contact anyone, especially Brian, under any circumstances. Even pregnant and an outcast, Justin was still worried about Brian's feelings when he should have been concerned for himself.

"Daphne! DAPHNE! Hey, you almost walked right into me. Where are you headed?"

I'm brought up short at the sound of someone yelling at me, and my heart lurches as the major subject of my and Justin's hateful phone conversation stares at me, making me squirm. "Brian? What are YOU doing here?"

"I really need to speak to Justin. I thought it would be easier to talk to him here, rather than at his parents' house."

"Where did you get the idea that he was at his parent's house?" I ask, trying to remain calm.

He shrugs. "I just figured that's where he would be after he left the loft."

I harrumph at him as I cross my arms over my chest. "And why did he leave the loft, Brian?"

"Come on! I know you're aware of the loft being left unlocked and me being robbed."

"Maybe... but I'd like to hear the rest of the story."

"There IS no rest of the story." He shifts nervously, then draws in a deep breath, before he divulges, "Uhh... I came to apologize to Justin for treating him the way I did and to make sure he's okay."

My eyes flash as anger builds inside me. "You're a little too late for that."

"Are you seriously telling me that it's too late to apologize?" he responds, one eyebrow arched up. "I can count the number of times I've apologized to anyone on one hand. Now just fucking tell me where he is!"

"Yeah, well, as I said, Brian, you're too damn late! He tried to explain to you that he didn't leave the door unlocked and you wouldn't listen. I can tell you what you said to him, though. You told him you didn't care if he didn't have any place to go. You told him to - and I quote - 'sleep in the park for all I care,' unquote. How could you do that?"

Brian brushes back some of his tousled hair; I'm surprised to see that he actually appears contrite, but it doesn't stop my resolve to stand up for my best friend. "Look, I was angry, okay? I just fucking told you I'm sorry!" He sighs. "I was wrong to say that. Can you just tell Justin that I need to see him? It's important."

"Why?"

"I have to make sure he's okay. I want to be sure he had his follow-up tests done."

"Tests?" I ask, unsure of what he's talking about. Surely, he can't know about the baby!

"Uh..." he pauses, "um, we had a little mishap. A broken condom. I want to make sure he had his follow-up HIV tests done. Mine came back clean, but I'm still concerned about his."

"Yeah, yeah, he's had them done," I fudge. My face heats up under Brian's scrutiny.

"Why haven't I seen him around? He hasn't been to Woody's or Babylon. I thought for sure by now I would have seen him."

I huff, "As a matter of fact, he and I went to Babylon one night to talk to you."

"How come I never saw you, then? Granted, I'm not there as much as I used to be..."

"I promised Justin I wouldn't divulge any of his secrets, so all I'm going to tell you is that you are going to have to look somewhere else for your answers."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I shrug. "Just that. Besides, Justin isn't here; he left town. Did you forget he didn't have a home to go to anymore? Justin told me about your visit with his father. YOU were the one who told Craig Taylor that his brand of love was hate before you asked Justin if he was coming with you. So, when you kicked him out, where was he supposed to go?"

"What do you mean... gone?" Brian asks, ignoring the other things I pointed out. But his voice sounds a little funny and... vulnerable?

I wonder how much I should reveal to him. "He said he was going to make a new life for himself away from Pittsburgh. And before you ask, I don't know for sure where he is." Again, with the fudging but, seriously, if Justin is in California, how am I supposed to know where he is right at this moment?

"Daphne, you have to help me find him." He takes a deep breath before adding unexpectedly, "Please."

"I can't. But I will tell you that if you want any more information, you should probably go talk to that snake you call a best friend. Heaven only knows why you do."

Brian frowns at me. "Michael? What does Mikey have to do with this? And wait... what do you mean, why I do what?"

"You know, I always thought you were a smarter man than this; hanging around that idiot, listening to him whine, must have killed some of your brain cells. I was talking about you calling him your best friend. MY best friend wants me to be happy. He doesn't chase away people who want to talk to me by threatening to call the police and have them removed from an establishment. Now, excuse me. I think we're through here."

I turn to leave an open-mouthed Brian standing there, and then I realize I don't care if Justin gets mad at me. He's not here to do anything to me, anyway. So, I stop and turn around, surprised to see that Brian hasn't moved from the spot where he was standing.

"Oh, and by the way, Brian. You should have known Justin wouldn't lie to you about locking the loft door. Did you forget where he and I grew up? We grew up KNOWING to lock the doors when we left our homes. It's just something you did in our exclusive neighborhood. So why, when he had been doing that for approximately twelve years, would he suddenly ‘forget'? In case you forgot, I was there that day. And I do recall something about 6-9-6-9, stud." I smirk at the last word. "Do have a good life, Brian."

And with that, I turn and start running. I'll be damned if I'm going to let Brian Kinney see me cry for the loss of my best friend.

TBC

Chapter 6

BRIAN:

After Daphne runs off, I stand there for at least two minutes, trying to wrap my mind around what she said to me. As if I hadn't been berating myself enough this morning, her conviction that Justin DID set the alarm has me shaking. I blamed an innocent kid for something that was clearly not his fault. I not only blamed him, but I was downright nasty to him.

Which brings me to wonder just who DID rob my loft. How did they get in? How did the alarm not activate? Had one of my tricks seen me punch in the code? No matter how drunk I've been, I've always sent the tricks ahead to the bedroom before shutting the alarm off for just that reason. My mind is whirling...

Wait! What was it she said about Mikey? He sent Justin away? Threatened to call the cops? What gave that...

I race to the Big Q. Mikey should be getting off work now, and I'm going to get some answers, one way or another. He has some explaining to do. I've thought about nothing else on my drive over here.

As he saunters out, I screech to a halt beside him. Opening the car door, he greets me with a delighted smile.

"Hey, Brian, thanks for picking me up! You're off a little early today."

"Get in," I demand tersely. He doesn't seem to notice the tone of my voice, however, as he eagerly scampers into the passenger seat. Before he has a chance to buckle his seat belt, the tires screech as I gun the motor and head toward the parking lot exit.

"Why are you... hey, slow down! You almost hit that car pulling out onto the highway!"

"I don't fucking care!" I growl, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard they've turned white. "Besides, they would have hit your side of the jeep."

"That's a mean thing to say. What's eating you, anyway? If you would get out more at night and hit the backroom, you wouldn't be such a grouch. You need to get laid, Brian," he tells me as my blood boils. "But it seems ever since Boy Wonder..."

I glare at him as I bark out, "Say it, and I might just throw you out on your ass while I'm driving. I'm getting sick and tired of the way you sneer about him all the time. What's your problem, anyway? He's a sweet kid. One who definitely didn't deserve to be treated like he was by me."

"What are you talking about? That dumbass forgot to set your alarm! He deserved whatever... hey! What are you doing?"

"I told you I'd throw you out on your ass if you continued, should I carry out my threat? Because you know I always do what I say! And don't give me that fucking 'holier-than-thou look! I've HAD it with your running off at the mouth! I want to hear you say his name."

Michael gives me a perplexed look; he's always been dense. "What's wrong with you?"

I'm so angry by now, that my knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel. "Say it! Justin. Jus-tin. J.u.s.t.i.n. Say it. Now!"

"Jesus Christ! You're losing it!"

"You have five seconds before this door opens and you hit the pavement. I want to hear you say his name."

Michael's mouth drops open. "We're doing over fifty miles an hour, Brian!" When I turn to silently glare at him, he finally relents with an annoyed sigh. "Fine! Justin."

I shake my head. "Uh-uh. Try it again. And this time, no sneering or scorn involved."

"I think we need to have you admitted... Okay, okay! FINE! Justin. Happy now? Close the damn door."

"Was that so hard, Mikey? Why is it so hard for you to say his name?" I'm really curious to know.

"Nothing. Jeez! Now can we talk about something else?"

"Okay. Tell me why you told Justin to leave Babylon, or you would call the cops?"

"Is that what he told you? Don't you see? He's just trying to stir up trouble between us. He's always been jealous of our friendship, Brian."

"That's funny," I tell him. "Because it wasn't Justin who told me. And from what I've heard, he's not even in Pittsburgh anymore. He hasn't been for a while now. So, no. It wasn't Justin who told me. But you spouting bullshit like that in Babylon, don't you think it's going to get back to me? Aren't you aware of how many gossiping fags there are in that place?" There's no way in hell I'm telling him it was Daphne who spilled that little tidbit.

I glance over at Mikey as the silence reigns. "You're awfully quiet for someone who was spouting bullshit a few minutes ago. Is that sweat on your forehead, Michael? Are you nervous about something?"

"What? You said he's gone?"

"Is that all you got out of that?" I'm seriously losing my patience and my threat to throw him out of the car is looking better all the time.

He folds his arms across his chest as he spits out, "Fine! The little user... I mean Justin, came into Babylon looking for you about a week after you kicked him out. You were the one who told him to stay out of your life. I was just reiterating it to the kid. I thought I'd put a stop to the stalking before he started up with it again. I was doing you a favor. Besides, the little shit called me Mikey! Nobody calls me Mikey but you. I should have decked the kid!"

"A favor? Is that what you call it? Or was it a favor for yourself? You never liked him; why? What did he ever do to you? And just so you know, Justin told me about that little conversation you had with him outside the diner the night after I met him. 'Brian doesn't do boyfriends. Brian is a selfish prick, and he should just forget about me.' Anything else I need to know? Or did you take offense to his telling you, ‘You don't know the things we did, and you're just waiting for him to finish jerking you off.' Is that it, Mikey? I took a seventeen-year-old kid to my bed numerous times, but I never finished a hand job with you. Were you that jealous of him?"

The words start tumbling out of Michael's mouth before he can prevent them. Finally, some truth. "YES! I mean, WHY? Why him? He was an inexperienced twink. He couldn't possibly have satisfied you!"

"And you could? Is that what you're saying? Forget it!" I tell him as I briefly raise my hands off the steering wheel to gesture at him. "Don't answer that. I really don't want to know the answer. I don't want your reasoning. What you did was wrong. You had no fucking right to threaten to call the cops on him! If I hadn't wanted to talk to him, I would have told him to leave Babylon. You had no right! But to satisfy your curiosity, that kid was almost too much for me. He almost wore me out most nights, just as I told you the first night. Happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?" This conversation with him is long overdue.

Once more, Michael doesn't listen. He never does. "Why are we stopped?" he dumbly asks.

I look at him in disgust. "Look around; home sweet home. Now get your ass out."

Michael looks at me in dismay, his brown eyes peering into mine as if that would make me change my mind. But his whipped puppy look falls flat. "Look, why don't you just forget all this nonsense? Let's go out tonight. Woody's, then Babylon. I'll even treat."

I huff out a breath of air. There is no way Michael could afford to 'treat' me. "Can't. I'm going home to pack."

"Where are you off to this time?" Michael's face lights up as he declares, "That's exactly what you need... a sucking and fucking vacation. It'll get you back in the swing of things."

I shake my head in amazement at his one-track mind. "You just don't get it, do you? No, it's not a vacation. I was offered a job in New York, and I've decided to accept it. So this is goodbye, Mikey; have a good life. Just don't expect ME to be a part of it. Now, get out!" I say, as I hastily unbuckle his seat and shove him, none too gently, out the door to get him moving.

With that, I leave a still open-mouthed Mikey standing on the curb as I tear down the street. I can't help but think that's exactly what Daphne told me to do.

JUSTIN:

Two Months Ago

"Aunt June! Stand still! You don't have shoes on. Let me get the broom and dustpan!"

"Oh, Justin... my little Justin. But you aren't so little anymore, are you? You've grown up."

"Are you mad at me?" Suddenly it's more important for me to have my aunt not be disappointed in me than my mother.

"No, absolutely not! I would love to be a great aunt! Now give me a hug! But tell me, are you happy about the baby?" I can see the unshed tears shining in her eyes.

"I'll be honest with you... there has been so much to deal with since I found out, I guess I haven't even thought about that. But yeah... I am. I really am! It means I will always have a little piece of Brian, even though he'll never know it." Then I grab my aunt, my life support at that moment, and hug her for all I'm worth.

Present:

I enter the quiet house after a very long day. Three weeks after getting here, I was so bored I ended up applying for various jobs. I was very surprised when two days after I applied to Pencil Portrait Studios, I received a call and was offered the job. I had to sketch out two portraits, one of myself and one of someone else while I sat there. I wonder if anyone realizes how hard it is to draw a self-portrait of yourself. Anyway, of course, I drew Brian. He's definitely my muse. They even asked me after I was offered the job if they could display the one of Brian. In my opinion, he's the best-looking one hanging there. And to think, he used to be mine... well, somewhat.

Being eight months pregnant is starting to take its toll on me. Between school and then drawing people's portraits for four hours, I'm exhausted. Tia - as Aunt June has me calling her, as she said Aunt June was a mouthful - reasoned since I was taking Spanish, I could just call her aunt in Spanish. Anyway, she's been gone for the past three days, so it's been super quiet when I arrive home. After throwing myself on the bed and catching my breath for a few minutes, I reach for my cell phone to call Daphne.

"Hey, Jus! I've been waiting for your call. How's the pregnant daddy?"

"HUGE! My gosh, Daph, you wouldn't believe it. I know Mom always told me that Molly and I were big babies, but even I think I look ridiculous! And then that creep Julian just thinks I'm all the more beautiful - his words, not mine - and won't leave me alone. If you can believe it, today he offered to carry my books. Then when I refused, the slimeball reached out and put his hand on my stomach, rubbing it. I've told him time and time again to leave me alone. If he ever shows up where I work or live, I will have to get a restraining order. He's just creepy. How anybody as huge as I am could look beautiful is beyond me," I tell her, shuddering at the memory. "So, did you see your sensei today?"

"For the hundredth time, Moshe is not a sensei! True; he is an instructor, but he does away with formality. He says he doesn't believe in titles just showing respect. As his father always said to him, labels are for bottles, not for people. And besides, Krav Maga is purely a self-defense class, and all I'm learning is defense skills. I'm not learning karate or judo, or any other martial art. But you will never guess what happened today!"

"You got asked out on a date?" comes my flippant reply.

"Haha. This is something totally unexpected, yet awesome. We had our Level Testing today. I made the Yellow Belt level! Can you believe it?" Daphne says, practically screaming in my ear.

"Uh-huh. That's great."

"Hey! This is a great thing! Where's your enthusiasm? Do I need to remind you that you were the one that begged me to learn self-defense? And do I need to remind you that I checked out three studios until I found Moshe, who ONLY teaches women self-defense? Besides, this is quite an honor. Going into the class he told us that it takes approximately four months to get your Level One yellow belt... and moi made it in two. You should be jumping up and down."

"Daph, if you could see me right now, you would know 'jumping up and down' would be damn near impossible."

"Well, I hope you don't have the baby until I get out there. I have two weeks left, then California, here I come! Just think of all the fun we can have this summer before college starts in the fall."

"Yeah, don't forget that I'll have a little girl to take care of. I'm not sure how much fun I can have with a newborn," I remind her. "By the way, have you told your parents you were accepted at the University of California, Los Angeles?"

"First, don't forget 'we' have a baby girl to take care of this summer; I would never forget that. I wonder who is more excited about this... you or me." I can't help smiling at the excitement I hear in her voice. "I can't wait to see what she looks like! Can you imagine how cute she's going to be? I mean, combine you and Brian, and she's bound to be gorgeous! We'll need a car seat, stroller, and a tummy carrier. Did you talk to your doctor about Tummy Time, like I told you to?"

"Yeah, she said as soon as we get home, that's fine. About twenty-thirty minutes a day while she's awake and supervised. So, did you tell your parents about college?" I ask again, trying to get her back on track.

"Yeah, I did last night after we talked. There was quite a disagreement about me going across the country for school, but when I assured them that I would be staying with you at your Aunt June's, they finally agreed to let me go. I think it helped that I've been taking these classes, too."

"Speaking about your classes, have you seen Michael around at all?"

"No, I haven't had the pleasure of seeing that shithead. But then again, I'm never over by Liberty Avenue, and he hasn't been around here, either. I'd love for him to show up, though. Even though my teachings are for defense, I don't know if I could resist accidentally reaching out and going 'oops'!" She said, giggling.

"You're terrible," I say, laughing.

"But no. He's been decidedly absent. But as I told you, if I see him in my neck of the woods, so to speak, I am going to call 911. Self-defense or not, he has no reason to be in this part of town. So, how about you? Have you heard from any colleges yet?"

"A couple, but I'm holding out deciding until I hear from Otis College of Art and Design. After all the research I've done, and from what we've been told at school, that sounds like the best place for me. So, has the valedictorian been announced yet?"

"Hell, yes! You're talking to her!"

I smile. "That's great, Daph! I'm happy for you."

"Well, with you gone, my competition was severely lacking." She sighs. "I'm still having problems adjusting to the fact that you and I won't be graduating together. We've been going to school together since preschool. It's really strange without you around. Anyway, Chris Hobbs and his groupies have a kid they've been picking on. They've been calling him a fairy, but I don't really think he's gay. Maybe if they spent the same amount of time studying as they do bullying and goofing off, I might have had some competition. So, enough about me. How did your classes and studies turn out this year? You kind of had a full schedule."

"Yeah, five AP classes, but I've aced all of them. Of course, I have no personal life, so all I can do is study. But no, they haven't let us know yet who made it," I say, as I huff out a sigh. "My senior year hasn't turned out anything like I thought it would after the great way it started. I always wonder how Brian is. If he misses me, you know?"

"Jus..." Daphne hesitates for a second before she continues. "Um, never mind. So, did you get your friend at work to take a picture of you for me, like you promised?"

"Yeah, I did. But Daph, I really don't know if I want to send it to you. Ugh! I'm so huge. The doctor says she's already a good nine pounds. I guess I should be thankful that men have to have a Cesarean section. And the Goodbye Stretch Marks Butter has really helped. It's expensive as hell, but worth every penny if I don't get the stretch marks. And Dr. Riley has promised that the incision should probably be covered fairly well by hair growth."

"Oh, Justin! Jesus! TMI, TMI, TMI!!! I don't want to imagine that! Stuff like that you can keep to yourself! Puh-leeze!" she says, disgust evident in her voice.

"Are you getting prudish on me, Daphne? If I remember correctly, after I met Brian, you couldn't wait to get the lowdown on the whole prostate thing," I tell her, unable to hold in my laughter.

"Yeah, that was purely from a medical standpoint."

"Sure it was. Keep telling yourself that. But you won't ever convince me of it."

"Well, quit stalling. I want the picture!" she demands.

"Again, ugh! But here you go. Let me know when you get it."

Suddenly, there's squealing and a scream loud enough to wake the dead. "I gather you got it, Daphne?"

"Yes, Justin. I got it! I can't believe it!" There's that squealing again! "You really are big! I can't believe it! And you have a MONTH to go!"

"Ugh, don't remind me! But you're starting to repeat yourself. You already said that."

"I know, but I can't believe it!"

"Well, on that note, I'm gonna get off here. Just promise me one thing, Daphne."

"Anything; you know it," she says with conviction.

"Promise me that no one, even under threats of torture, will see that picture," I tell her, my voice brooking no argument. "Promise me!"

"I promise, Jus." It won't surprise me if she's silently thinking she won't keep that promise. "Besides, everyone would think it's photoshopped. No one could be THAT big!"

I laugh. "Thanks a lot! Seriously Daphne, I do need to get off for the night. I haven't eaten yet, and I still need to hit the books and shower. So, I'll talk to you tomorrow night."

"Okay. You have a good rest of the evening. I can't wait to see you in a couple of weeks. Love you, Justin. By the way, I can't believe it!"

"Aargh!" I hear her giggle and I have to smile in return. "You, too, Daph," I whisper, hanging up before she can say it again.

TBC

Chapter 7

"Daphne... DAPHNE!" I'm yelling and frantically waving my sign with her name on it. Her plane just had to arrive at the busiest time of day at the airport. I swear I've gotten bigger than a baby elephant these past two weeks. Waving the sign saps my energy, so I forget about trying to jump even a little to be seen. But I figure she can't miss the hot pink, fluorescent poster board with ‘Daphne’ scrawled on it in black marker. I even drew a small picture of her - in pigtails - in the top-right corner. I found drawing with a black marker wasn't the easiest thing to do, however.

But apparently, it does the trick as she comes bouncing up to me. "Oh my God, Justin!" she shrieks. "You're huge!"

"Well, duh... I think that was established when I sent you my picture a couple of weeks ago." I roll my eyes at her for good measure.

"No, I mean… You're even bigger now! Gigantic! Did you get one of those weird cravings and decide to eat a watermelon whole, rind and all? She says this with such an innocent look on her face that I almost want to smack her!

"No, smartass. Although, there's this great watermelon at this little market not far from my aunt's house. With it being so hot lately, it really hits the spot."

"Well, put the sign down and hug me! I've missed you so much, Justin." She grabs hold of me before I can brace myself, causing both of us to just barely avoid tumbling to the floor.

She pulls back and clucks at me. "Wow, Justin... you've let yourself go... I can't even get my arms around you." Again, with that straight face. Alright, the kid gloves just came off.

"Do you remember that time in fifth grade when you made me so mad, I actually punched you on the playground? Well, I'm about to perform an encore."

"Oh, you mean the time when I said you punched worse than a girl, and then I gave you a black eye?" She says this with a gleam in her eye and a huge smile on her face.

I shake my head in defeat, unable to keep from grinning back at her. "Okay, okay… enough with the fat jokes!" I plead. "Mom always said I was a big baby. Now I can't help wondering how big Brian was when HE was born. Dr. Riley said it can be hereditary. But just knowing it runs in my own family is enough. I have about two weeks left to go, and she's around ten pounds already."

Daphne's mouth hangs open. "I stand corrected, then... it's not a watermelon in there; it's a baby whale! You know, Shamu is a nice, gender-neutral name."

I smack her playfully as she giggles at me. "Daph... you are treading on dangerous ground here. We aren't in fifth grade anymore."

She snorts. "As if... Oh, alright. It's just you have always been so slim; I just find it funny."

"Well, as slow as I'm moving these days... we’d better make our way down to baggage claim. How much do you have, anyway? Should we rent a cart?"

"I actually have just one suitcase and my carry-on. Everything is boxed up at home, and my parents are shipping it out to me. And I mainly just brought some clothes with me, so my suitcase isn't very big or too heavy."

"That's a relief," I tell her, admitting, "I wasn't looking forward to hauling lots of suitcases out of here. But good luck when your boxes arrive. You're on your own hauling them up the stairs."

"Ooh, I love that staircase! The one time my parents let me come out here with you, I so wanted to slide down the railing!" She sighs melodramatically. "Alas, at fifteen, I thought it might be frowned upon."

"You know, when I walked into my aunt's house the day that I moved out here, that's the first thing I thought about, too. I still can't believe Molly never tried."

"You can't be serious! She NEVER had the guts to do the things we did at her age. She was always Little Miss Perfect, with an 'I don't want to get in trouble' attitude. No guts, that girl," she says while shaking her head.

"You know, it almost makes me worried thinking about what my little girl might be like. We were little daredevils with an attitude to match." I briefly gnaw on my thumb with my teeth before asking, "I wonder if there is a way to mold them to your liking?" I shake my head and let out a sigh. "You know, Daph, as long as my little one doesn't find an adventurous friend like you were when WE were kids... maybe I have hope that mine won't be as reckless." Ha! Got her there!

She tries to punch me in the side in retaliation, but I somehow manage to evade her, so she decides, “I'm gonna let that slide for now. Help me find my suitcase now that we're here. It's a Samsonite. Kind of a light teal. Mom got it for me after they agreed to let me come out here. Even if they hadn’t agreed to let me attend college out here... I would still have been here, Justin. There's no way I wouldn't be here for you now." I hear the sincerity in her words, and I know she means them more than anything. Damn hormones... I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry…

"There it is! Can you grab it? I'll take your carry-on, so we can get out of here."

As she hands me the bag, she looks at my hands and around on the floor... "Jus, where's the sign?"

"Huh? Oh, crap! I bet it's still lying on the floor back at the gate where you arrived. Oh, well... I doubt it's still there now."

Once home, I collapse on the sofa while Daphne takes her stuff upstairs. It was unusually warm outside today, and it's days like this that I'm grateful for the air conditioning. I think the day her boxes arrive I'm going to park my butt at the bottom of the stairs and laugh at her. Well, maybe not the bottom step. If I managed to sink that low, I'd never be able to get back up.

"Hey, wuss," my best friend calls out to me as she sprints down the stairs and sits next to me on the couch. She's really cruising for a bruising today.

I peer over at her indignantly. "Hey, when you're almost nine months pregnant and as big as a house, I'll be sure to return all the nice things you've said to me."

She barks out a laugh. "Don't hold your breath! I'm not having kids or getting married!"

I can't help smirking as I remind her, "Yeah, well, since I'm living proof that accidents happen, never say never."

"Well, how about you get that fat... er... gorgeous body of yours up off the couch, and let's get outta here and go get something to eat. I'm starving!"

"Okay... I'll ignore that last comment due to your hunger deprivation. But may I remind you that you are worse than me when it comes to atrocious eating habits? You always have been. The only difference is, I never cared who knew. You, on the other hand, always try to eat healthy, small portions around certain people to keep your cover. Well, there's no need anymore. Nobody here knows you. And since I'm your very best friend, I checked out some local places to find the best-tasting..." I can't get the next words out before Daphne completes my sentence for me.

"...CHILI CHEESE FRIES?! Oh, my God! I could kiss you!" And she proceeds to do just that before starting her happy dance, reminiscent of Alfonso Ribeiro doing the Carlton. We were only seven or eight when that show came out, but it quickly became Daphne's favorite. And to my horror, shortly after Ribeiro debuted his iconic dance moves, Daphne turned on the charm to her doting father until he brought her home the cassette tape of It's Not Unusual by Tom Jones. Every day after school, I had to endure her antics, and later the 'productions' that she put on for her parents and me. Yeah, good times! But watching her now – her eyes twinkling in merriment as she gyrates to a silent tune - I think she outshines Ribeiro. Or perhaps I'm biased? Nah...

"Yes, chili cheese fries," I tell her with a laugh. "Before school let out, I asked around where the best place was to get some and was told to check out Tommy's Original Hamburgers. I was also told they were better in the North Hills restaurant than the one in L.A. So, just for you, I checked them both out, and I agree, North Hills is where you want to go, even though it's eighteen miles further. But I decided you are worth it."

That earns me a death glare and a hit to the arm. Feigning injury, I groan as I struggle to rise from the couch.

"As if you didn't enjoy every fry you tested on my behalf," she snorts.

I grin back at her, telling her, "Come on," I tell her as I grip her arm lightly. "No time like the present," I add as I open the front door and start towards the car; otherwise, Daphne would be content to stand in the foyer and yack for an hour. Even heading toward the car, she’s talking non-stop.

"Okay, yeah,” I acknowledge, “I might have enjoyed them immensely... while eating them... not so much afterward. I couldn't devour enough Rolaids. Finally, Dr. Riley told me I could use Zantac. Heartburn is starting to be part of my daily life." I sigh and wrinkle my nose as I think about the acid rising into my throat.

"You should have just mixed up and drank that vinegar and soda concoction my grandmother always talked about," Daph tells me, opening the passenger door and sliding inside while I walk around the car.

I awkwardly struggle to wedge my body behind the wheel as I reply, "Yeah, I remember the one time she had you drink that shit. Sure, you burped up air, but if the kitchen sink hadn’t been right there, the crap you upchucked would have been all over the floor." I shake my head as I add, "Not to mention the stench that rivaled skunk roadkill."

She shrugs at me as I finally manage to latch my seatbelt while she does the same. "True, but it was the best acid reducer I ever tried."

"You are so weird. Well, all I can say is that I hope you enjoy these before you need to use them again!" We grin at each other as I slowly back out of the driveway and pull out into the street to head toward our destination.

"Well, If they have the Justin Taylor Stamp of Approval, I can't go wrong. So, has your doctor given you the actual delivery date for the baby?"

"Yeah, she has. Tacking 40 weeks onto the date of conception, we have June 20th. Daphne squeals so loudly in her excitement that I wince, deciding to hurriedly change the subject while my hearing is still somewhat intact. "So, how was graduation? How'd the speech go?" I glance over as she smiles and promptly starts her recitation.

"Thank you, Shannon, for that wonderful introduction. Friends, family, faculty, and the illustrious Class of 2001, it is an honor to speak to all of you today..."

I laugh. "Hold it! I don't want to hear your whole speech! I simply asked how it went."

She pretends to pout at my interruption before she responds with a smile, "Great, although some of it probably went over the heads of a few of the students when I ended the speech with some very sagacious advice."

As I slow down to turn into the restaurant's parking lot, I can't help asking, "Okay, Miss Vocabulary. And that would be?"

She grins at me as she states, "To quote Richard Russo, 'Go to it. Be bold. Be true. Be kind. Rotate your tires. Don’t drink so much. There aren’t going to be enough liver transplants to go around’.”

I look at her for a few moments before we both burst out laughing. "You are…" I shake my head. "Indescribable," I decide as she giggles. "But I am so glad you're here," I admit, feeling myself getting just a bit teary-eyed.

She smiles at me then. "Me too, Jus."

I nod in agreement, and we share a short moment before I announce, "Well, we're here, Ms. Chanders." I hold out my hand as if I'm introducing the Queen of England. "I give thee... Tommy's Original Hamburgers."

“Wow! Oh, my God!” she shrieks, and there goes the rest of my hearing. “I love it!” The entire outside of the restaurant is painted in a black-and-white checked pattern, with an old-fashioned neon sign proclaiming the name of the place. The brick and stainless-steel look like something right out of Happy Days. “It’s a diner, then?” She grins and shakes her head. “I should have guessed.”

I grin back at her and nod. "Very astute," I respond dryly as she slaps my arm playfully. "The seating area inside is reminiscent of a 50s diner with red and white tables. Plus, you can order anything on the menu covered in chili."

"Eww... even a shake or piece of pie?"

I laugh. "I suppose they might draw the line there," I admit as I lead my friend over to a vacant booth and slide into the vinyl seat; Daphne sits down on the opposite side as she reaches to pick up a vinyl-clad menu.

My friend rubs her hands together in glee, her eyes sparkling as she places the menu down on the table and announces, "Well, I'm getting a double order with jalapeño peppers... and no, I'm not sharing, so don't ask."

"If that's the case, then I'm only getting a 7 Up. You'll see," I tell her smugly.

Five minutes later, the gal that took our order brings it out to us. The look on Daph's face is priceless. "Uh, ma'am, could you possibly bring us an extra plate?” Her double order looks more like an entire day's order; it's the largest heart attack on a plate that I've ever seen. And I'm salivating over it.

“Told ya!” I exclaim in triumph.

“Fine! I should have listened.” She picks up a chili-covered fry from the side of the plate. “Mmm... this is heaven!” She barely chews and swallows before continuing without taking another breath. "Anyway, I thought while I was here, I'd like to see the Griffith Observatory, the Santa Monica Pier, Graumann's Chinese Theatre, Hollywood Boulevard, the Hollywood Wax Museum, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the Hollywood Sign, and we HAVE to do Disney, and Oh! Rodeo Drive. And..."

"Alright, already!" I tell her as I laugh, holding up my hand to stop her; God, it’s wonderful having Daphne with me. I’ve missed her like crazy. "We have all summer. I can do some now, but please, nothing too strenuous or too much walking without a break. Oh, and I have to be able to fit behind the restraining bars, so no roller coasters, I'm afraid." At Daphne's look of dismay, I quickly add, "But just think... at least my condition should get us to the front of the line.” They always ask for those who need assistance, and board them first. “Deal?”

Her previous look of disappointment is replaced with a delighted grin at the thought, as we shake hands. “Deal!” she exclaims, her entire face lighting up. After the server brings an additional plate for me, it doesn't take us long to devour every morsel of the mountain we were given. I know I will most likely pay for this with a grand round of indigestion later, but hey, the baby may as well get used to her father's appetite. It isn't like I eat like this all the time now. But damn, it does feel great! My best friend and a mound of greasy, meaty, cheesy fries. It doesn't get any better than this!

So, for the next two weeks, we walk and walk and walk; my pleas go unanswered. But Daphne is a trooper; she allows me two to three days between our jaunts to rest a little, during which time we make sure the nursery is perfect and everything is ready for when the baby arrives. It's the night before I'm due for my C-section; it is unseasonably warm, and we played 'tourist' all day. I opt to go to bed early to prepare for the big day.

Soon, I'm having a wonderful dream of Brian... very reminiscent of the night we met. He has just told me to put my legs on his shoulders, when – instead of the slow, easy way Brian introduced me to sex – he rams into me so hard that I end up screaming. I sit up in bed, hardly able to get my bearings, when another pain shoots through me, and I realize with alarm that I am in labor. Oh, dear Lord, please, no!

My scream brings Daphne and Tia running into my room. Tia takes one look at me gripping the sheets and the pain etched on my face, and picks up my phone dialing 911, demanding an ambulance.

The ride to the hospital is a nightmare. One of the EMTs radios ahead, telling them to get Dr. Riley there STAT.

As I'm rushed into the OR, I try to make sure that they allow Daph and Tia into the room. Dr. Riley is already there. Taking one look at me, she gently chides, "Mr. Taylor. I didn't think we'd be meeting for another ten hours or so. It's a good thing I was making my rounds when you came in." She glances over at the monitor now attached to me as she states, "Since it appears that you are well into your labor, we are going to have to administer general anesthesia for the procedure." She peers over at the others in the room with amusement. "I see we have company joining us. Ladies, good to see you're in your sterile garb. We're going to place sterile drapes over Justin's tummy now and get a catheter inserted into his bladder. As you can see, they are already giving him the anesthesia, so please sit up by Justin's head. Now let's get to work bringing this precious little girl into the world."

><><

Waking up, I feel groggy and disoriented before I register the feeling of someone lightly gripping my hand. I try to focus, then realize Daphne and Tia are with me, and it's Daph holding my hand. She smiles at me as I suddenly realize what must have happened. "The baby... is she..."

Both women smile now as Daphne pronounces, "She's perfect, Justin."

"I... want to... see her." I struggle against the effects of the anesthesia, desperately wanting to see my new daughter, but my body is not yet ready to cooperate. My eyelids flutter as I try to stay awake before they finally close and I fall asleep again.

><>< 

Four days later, we arrive home from the hospital. After a couple more days, Daphne and I sit down and design a baby announcement to be sent to my mother; I realize with some sadness that there really is nobody else to send one to. We have numerous pictures, so it is mainly just a matter of figuring out which ones we want to use. That done, I sit down to write my mother a letter. I honestly think this is the first time I've ever used paper and pen to do this.

Dear Mom,

I'm sorry we have not really spoken for the last six months, but I thought you might be interested to know that your beautiful, perfect granddaughter has arrived. She sure is a big baby; 10 lbs., 6 oz. at birth! Thank God there is such a thing as a Cesarean section. No wonder she was ready to come out ahead of time!

In case you are interested, I graduated as the valedictorian from Los Angeles County High School for the Arts. I took five advanced placement courses and graduated with a 5.0 GPA. I will be attending Otis College of Art and Design in the fall. Daphne has been here for the last two weeks and will also be attending college out here.

I hope everything is going well back home and your life is as fulfilling as mine. Please give Molly a hug and kiss from me and tell her I miss her. I want you to know that even with everything that has happened, I'm very satisfied with the way my life has turned out. My daughter has brought me more joy than I ever thought was possible, and Daphne and Tia are both such wonderful support systems.

I've enclosed the baby announcement Daphne and I designed. I hope you like the name. It should be a given as to how I chose McKenna. It's an Irish name that means 'Celtic God of Fire,' which, to me, suits Brian. I chose Abigail for her middle name, simply because it means 'My Father's Joy.' I can't think of a more appropriate name for her.

I'm also putting Aunt June's name on the envelope, so Dad won’t accidentally open it.

Miss and love you,

Justin

><>< 

For the first two weeks, we have pretty much stayed in, letting ourselves and McKenna get accustomed to life together and falling into a routine. Last night, we decided we would venture out today. Daphne said she still hadn't seen the Hollywood Sign, so that's what we decide to do. We'll view it from the top of the Home Depot parking garage on Sunset Boulevard. It’s supposed to be the best viewing spot, and it will only take us about fifteen minutes to hike there. It's hard to believe the white letters are 45 feet (13.7 meters) tall and 350 feet (106.7 meters) long. Besides, unlike Daphne, it's always given me the willies to read that a twenty-four-year-old actress climbed to the top of the H using a workman's ladder and then proceeded to jump to her death. Sure, that happened in 1932... and she had left a suicide note in her purse in the scrub, stating that she was a failure in the movies... but it still bothers me to think of viewing something as a tourist attraction, knowing someone took their life there.

So, after spending a little time at it - and with Daphne's help - I manage to figure out how to wrap the Baby K’tan Baby Carrier around McKenna and me. I’m really grateful that Daphne suggested the wrap for when I’m out and about with the baby, and brought it with her from Pittsburgh. “Safest and best on the market, Justin," she had advised me, and I have to admit it’s very comfortable, with McKenna immediately snuggling into it against my chest.

Upon leaving the house, I notice the darkening sky and think, Great, it looks like rain, and wonder if we should stay home. But we've been home for the last two weeks, and the idea of getting out is appealing, so after carefully placing my daughter in her new car seat, we head out.

About ten minutes later, the wind picked up and there's a torrent of rain and hail falling. I consider pulling over, but realize we only have about three to five more minutes to go, and nobody else is stopping, so I follow along at a slow pace. Besides, I have this feeling we may need to get somewhere safe; my main priority is my daughter's well-being.

When we finally pull into the Home Depot parking lot, I notice how the wind has suddenly died down and the air has become very still. Eerily so. Daphne notices too, giving me a worried look.

"Let's go inside and see what we can find out about the weather, Justin. This just feels… creepy." For all the strength I can usually expect from Daphne, the worry and fear she is feeling are clearly written all over her face, and my own anxiety escalates. So, we hastily get McKenna out of her car seat and situated back in the K'tan before making our way inside.

When we enter the store, it's very quiet. A monitor – normally used for video of customers coming and going – displays, instead, a weather forecaster next to a menacing-looking radar map. A large group of people is grouped around it. As we move closer, I hear sirens start blaring as Daphne and I stop and stare at the screen in disbelief. There on the screen is a nightmare in the making. The Emergency Alert System starts broadcasting: This just in from KCRA. A tornado warning has been issued for Los Angeles County. A tornado has been sighted in the Sunset Boulevard area. Please get to safety immediately! I repeat, a tornado has been sighted. Please get to safety.

Suddenly a voice comes over the loudspeaker. "Attention! My name is Henry Sutton. I'm the manager here at Home Depot. A tornado has been spotted on the radar a few miles away. This is not designated as a sheltered area, so I want everyone to find a place along a wall where there are no windows. Please stay away from any shelving and supplies. There are blankets in the storeroom; employees will be distributing them shortly. Please! This is urgent! Find a location quickly!"

"Oh, shit! Why did we ever leave home today, Daph? I thought the clouds looked bad." I look down at my sleeping daughter, totally unaware of the drama taking place, and a strong need to protect her overwhelms me. I berate myself for leaving the house in the first place. But it is too late to reverse my decision now. "What have I done?"

Daphne grips my arm as she replies, "Justin, it will be okay. Come on! We’ve gotta find someplace safe." She then grabs my hand and starts leading us towards the back.

We get situated and are given a blanket bundled in plastic that Daphne rips open and spreads on the floor. Suddenly, the need to hear Brian's voice and feel his strong arms holding me is so intense that I pull my hand from Daphne's and fumble with my cell phone to punch in the familiar landline number for his loft.

I press my ear closer to the phone with a frown; can this be right? Because all I’m getting are three sequential musical tones, indicating a call has failed due to no service. Undeterred, I hang up and redial... my heart beating rapidly as I hear the phone connecting this time... only to receive a message stating, We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error... and I hang up again.

I decide to try his cell phone, and I receive a similar message that the number is no longer in service. What the hell? I can only reach one conclusion: Brian wants nothing to do with me. If he's gone to the trouble of changing both his numbers so I'm unable to contact him... well, Brian Kinney... fuck you, you son of a bitch!! I can feel the tears burning at the corners of my eyes. As one escapes and slides down my cheek, I swallow around the lump in my throat.

"Justin, are you alright? Who are you trying to call?" Daphne asks, concern evident in her voice. "Your Mom? Tia?"

I take a deep breath and angrily wipe the tear away. "Nobody, Daph... nobody." I retake her hand in mine and squeeze it for all I'm worth. "I'm glad you're with me, Daphne. If I have to go through something as harrowing as a tornado while stuck in a Home Depot, there's no one else I'd rather have with me." I also find myself holding McKenna a little tighter and silently apologize for placing her in such a dangerous situation so early in her life. I should have listened to my gut instinct when I saw the darkening sky and stayed home.

Daphne tries to keep a quiet, casual chatter running; whether it's to reassure me or herself, I'm grateful. It helps me push the gut-wrenching pain of Brian's callousness aside.

Fifteen minutes later, the manager comes back onto the PA, informing us that the news forecaster just announced that the storm has passed with minimal damage to our area. I breathe a sigh of relief and thank a God I have not been in touch with since ninth grade when I stopped going to Bible study classes.

I look at my best friend and see the relief on her face, too. With one final, small squeeze to her hand, I say, "Come on. Let's take our little girl home. The hell with seeing the Hollywood sign." Suddenly, my priorities are back in place, and showing Daphne the epitome of tourist attractions in L.A. doesn't seem so important anymore.

TBC

Chapter 8

BRIAN:

Sitting in my office, buried under a pile of work, I'm having a for-shit day. I've been down to the art department twice already; so much for thinking I'd have a better caliber of artists to work with in New York. And speaking of artists, Justin pops into my thoughts again. I can't help but wonder what happened to the kid. I've been in New York now for nine months. Nine months in which I haven't seen or spoken to any of my so-called Pittsburgh family.

I was so blindingly angry when I left. With Christmas around the corner, I've given it some thought if I should go back for the holidays. Not that I really believe in the holidays, but I miss Gus something awful. Ever since I moved to New York, I've religiously deposited $2,500 a month in an account I set up for Gus' care. I spoke with Melanie once after arriving in New York, telling her of the account for Gus, and that it was set up for her to oversee. She told me there was no need for an account, stating they were more than capable of taking care of Gus financially, but with the argument that it was just in case any problems arose, I finally convinced her to accept it. I then apologized for taking off and explained how I had to do this for myself. Surprisingly - or maybe not - she gave me no grief, telling me she understood.

I scowl when a beeping from my intercom brings me out of my musings. When my secretary informs me I have a phone call, I tell her to take a message, but she surprises me when she comes back on the line, saying it's the Pittsburgh PD and is very important.

Fearing the worst, I pick up the phone, only to be shocked by what I'm told. Before hanging up, I make plans to visit soon, and meet with the detective. The fear I momentarily felt, turns into a blinding rage as soon as I set down the receiver.

Considering my options, I again pick up my phone and dial one of the few Pittsburgh numbers I still remember.

It's time to bring my wayward blond home.

~ ¤ ~

As my plane is descending into Los Angeles, I realize just how very nervous I am. It took some finagling and lots of explaining to Jennifer before she'd disclose Justin's whereabouts. She didn't want to tell me where he was, but she finally gave me his address. I can't believe he's in California... has been here since he left Pittsburgh. Other than telling me he came out here to stay with Jen's sister and finish high school, I have no idea what else has been going on in his life. Jen wasn't very forthcoming, although that might have had something to do with that rat bastard Craig being within hearing distance as he was the one who answered the phone when I called.

Sitting in the back of the cab, I have to wonder what kind of reception I will receive. Even if he won't talk to me, I at least need to apologize for my harsh treatment of him, and that of my so-called friends. I blamed an innocent kid for something that was not in any way his fault, and even worse, I didn't believe him or give him a chance to explain.

My nerves ramp up as we pull into the driveway of a very fancy-looking house; it helps, though, to know that he's safe and living in a good home. I remember when Daphne told me Justin had left Pittsburgh, I was worried about where he might be living and what he might have been doing to survive. Hoping he had maybe only gone as far as New York, I hired a private investigator once I was settled. After a month, when he turned nothing up regarding Justin, I could only hope the kid was back home.

Grabbing my carry-on, I make my way up to the front door.

~ ¤ ~

JUSTIN:

I have just set McKenna in her highchair when the doorbell rings. Hating to leave her alone, but figuring she'll be okay for a few minutes, I race to the front door. Yanking it open, I receive the shock of my life. Leaning casually against the door frame, smirk firmly in place, is Brian Kinney.

"Hey, Sunshine. You have male."

~ ¤ ~

BRIAN:

It's Sunday, and knowing the family will all be at Deb's, I open the door and casually stroll into the house. There's momentarily a stunned silence as they all gape at me, before the loud boisterous group all start talking at once, with shouts of "Brian!" and Brian?" The way they say my name ranges from outraged exclamations to questions.

Michael is the first to react, jumping up from his chair and knocking it over in his haste to get to me. Lit up like a five-year-old at Christmas, he exclaims, "Christ, Brian, I've missed you! Why haven't you called? You left without saying goodbye or telling me where you were! God, it's so good to have you home. Come here!"

Before he can hug me, I grab his wrists, holding him in place, glaring at him, growling, "I did tell you I was leaving town, as I had accepted another job, so let's not start this visit out with lies."

"Hey, asshole, that's no way to talk to your best friend!" predictably comes from Deb.

Mentally rolling my eyes, I ignore Deb, snarking, "Don't you have room for one more? After all, I came all this way just to celebrate the holidays with the family, and we all have so very much to talk about."

"Brian," Lindsay stands up, demurely protesting my behavior. "Come over and sit by me... and Gus. He's missed you so much. He's talking now. I've taught him how to say ‘Dada', haven't I, Lambskin?"

I glance at Melanie, who is staring at her partner, mouth agape.

I can't resist an opening like that. "What the hell, Lindsay? Seriously Mel, you allow your 'wife' to call my son a condom? I had higher hopes of you than that."

Indignation flushes Lindsay's cheeks as she stammers, "Excuse me? I didn't call him any such thing!"

"Sure you did. Or weren't you aware that high-quality condoms were once made from lamb's skin? Tsk, tsk," I chide her. "I thought you were better educated than that, Lindsay; regardless, I'd appreciate it if you'd cut out the cutesy names and call him Gus–or Augustus." I glance momentarily at Mel, taking in her small smirk.

"What crawled up your ass, Kinney? We haven't seen you for close to a year, and then you come barging into my home and treat your best friends like this! I won't tolerate it!" an outraged Deb puts in, her right hand twitching. She's itching to slap me upside the head, but I'm too far away from her.

"Sis, calm down." Vic greets me with a beaming smile. "Brian, it's good to see you. Boys, let's move over so Brian has a place to sit."

"Thanks, Vic. It's good to see you, too."

After everyone moves closer together, I grab an extra chair and settle at the table between Vic and Emmett.

"So, why the sudden trip to the Pitts, Brian? Given the lack of chatter," Vic jokes, "I think everyone here is still half in shock."

I shrug nonchalantly. "A lot has happened, so I figured it was time to come home to see everyone and get some much-needed answers. I've actually been in town a couple of days now."

"Really?" Michael pipes up, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why is this the first time I'm seeing you then? And why are you acting like this? Why haven't you called me? I've been worried about you!"

“I’m a big boy, Mikey, and I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, besides, busy, busy.” I brush off the inane questions, thinking that my one-time best friend certainly hasn’t gotten any brighter. “As I said, I can take care of myself. There’s no need for you to concern yourself about me. Besides, have you forgotten our last conversation? The one where I specifically told you I was leaving? Granted, I didn’t say where, but I did tell you I had a new job.”

Michael has the good grace to flush, as an indignant Deb questions, "Michael, sweetie, you told us you hadn't talked to Brian and had no idea where he was. What's going on?" She then, as usual, turns it around so that it's my fault. "Brian, I don't appreciate you lying. Michael wouldn't lie to me, so you must be."

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey," I drawl, "are you lying to your mom again? How many times did you do that in high school, placing the blame on me, when it was you doing something that I had to clean up? How many times did you tell Deb that I started fights in school, or that my dad had hit me, when I was actually protecting you after you ran your mouth? I stepped in countless times to keep you from getting the shit beat out of you and ended up with the bruises to prove it."

"I don't appreciate what you are implying here, Brian. Michael wouldn't have done something like that. Michael wouldn't lie to me, ever. Tell him, honey," Deb begs, with an imploring look at Michael.

Michael averts his gaze and looks at his plate, mumbling, "Thanks a lot, Brian."

"Well, since we've started the confessions, I say we go for a few more. But first, I have some exciting news to share," I inform them, doing my best to hide my glee, at least for the moment. "I got a call from a detective here in Pittsburgh. They caught the people who robbed my loft."

Everyone starts to talk at once, but I don't miss the quick look exchanged between Lindsay and Michael, which prompts me to say, "I saw that, you two. Do you have anything to add?"

Everyone quits talking and turns to me, wondering who I'm talking to. Deb recovers first, demanding, "Now what are you going on about? And why are you looking at Michael and Lindsay like they should know something? I don't know what has happened to you, Brian, but I don't like the way you're acting - in my home, no less. Maybe you should just leave. Go back to your fancy job and the new life you've made for yourself."

I lift an eyebrow at her. "Sounds like a good plan, but we need to get some truths out first."

With that, the front door opens, and Justin comes in, stamping the snow from his feet, beaming at everyone, and saying, "Happy Holidays!"

Debbie exclaims, "Sunshine? Sunshine! Oh, my God! Come here!" while trying unsuccessfully to get out of her chair.

"Hey, Debbie, it's nice to see you again," Justin politely responds like the good little WASP he is.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Michael blurts out. "Hey, you little shit," he spits at Justin, "you're not wanted here. Shouldn't you be in jail? It's because of you that Brian's loft got robbed. Get out of here! Maybe I should call the police and tell them you're here." He starts to rise, but Emmett clamps a hand on his arm, restraining him.

"Yes, Michael," I suggest in a dry tone, "maybe we should call the police. I'm sure they would love to talk with you... and Lindsay."

"All right, Kinney. That's enough! Get out!" Deb screams. "Get out of my home. Take your accusations and leave."

With that said, there's a knock on the front door, and Justin announces, "That must be our guests," and goes to open the door. When he steps back, Detectives Horvath and Stewart walk in, along with two people who are key to the case.

TBC

Chapter 9

BRIAN:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback  

“Hey, Sunshine, you have male.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ ¤ ~

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

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

~ ¤ ~

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

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

~ ¤ ~

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

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

“Brian, make love to me,” he pleads.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Justin nods, his nose rubbing against mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still memorizing," I say softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Panting, I collapse on top of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Flashback

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you jealous, Mikey?” Daphne taunts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mel, baby, sweetie, I didn’t mean…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The silence is broken by Gus’ loud screams.

TBC

Chapter 10

BRIAN:

Distantly, I hear screaming, but everything is weirdly muffled, like I'm in some sort of fog. Maybe I should try to clear my ears? I swallow hard in an effort to make my ears pop, but it isn't until I realize Mel is trying to pull Gus out of my arms and screaming "GO!" that I come out of my stupor and remember what happened. I can hear Horvath yelling, "Officer down! Officer down!" while Lindsay screeches, "You shot me, you fucking pig!"

Glancing around as I finally allow Melanie to take Gus, I see Officer Stewart lying on the floor, blood oozing from his stomach. Lindsay's bent over, cradling a bloody, mangled-looking hand in her lap. Daphne is out cold, and there's no sign of Justin. I turn to Mel, my voice shaking as I ask, "Is Daphne okay? Justin?"

"Daphne's just knocked out, and Justin has already taken off after Michael. Go, Brian!"

There's no need to tell me again. I barrel through the door, intent on getting back my daughter and Justin.

I pause on the stoop, looking around wildly as I try to determine which way to go. When I hear shouting, I sprint down the street to my right. Mere seconds later, I see them. Two officers and Justin surround Michael and McKenna in the middle of the street. I run toward them, hoping against hope that I can get Michael to see reason.

As I approach, I hear Justin pleading with Michael to give him the baby. "Michael, please, she's just a little girl. I know you don't want to hurt her."

"Why'd you come back, Boy Wonder?" Michael spits at Justin as he clutches McKenna even tighter, making her wail in distress. "You shouldn't be trying to pass this brat off as Brian's. You won't get away with it - we all know you're a slut. All it will take is a DNA test, and Brian will kick both of you to the curb."

"Mikey," I say gently when I get close enough. I continue talking in a soothing voice, as if I'm speaking to a small child. I stroke his ego, letting him think I've already taken his ‘advice.' "She's mine. I did have a paternity test done, just to make sure." It's not a lie if they make you do it, I think to myself, a false smile on my face as I look at my childhood friend. All that matters is that Michael calms down.

From the corner of my eye, I see Justin direct a quick glance at me. Hopefully, he knows why I'm spouting this garbage.

"Can you give me the baby, please? You don't want to hurt my child, do you, Mikey? My own flesh and blood? Come on, Mikey, give her to me," I urge softly. I can hear the pleading note in my voice, and Michael does too.

He wavers for a moment, but then his eyes narrow and he takes a half step back, yelling, "No! Move back. All of you. Now! I'm not telling you again! If the fuzz doesn't fucking back off right now, I'm gonna kill her." His brown eyes take on a crazed gleam. "I swear, I'll bash her brains out on the cement if you don't move right now!"

With my heart in my throat, I look at the officers, who nod at me before moving away.

They no more than reach the sidewalk, when Michael turns and takes off running. I look at Justin and see the fear in his eyes. Michael has officially lost it, and there's no telling what he will do to the baby.

Before I can think what to do, Justin starts hollering, "That's fine, Michael. Take her! I still have Brian. We can always make another baby. Face it, Michael. I'm cuter, hotter, and younger than you'll ever be, and I'll have Brian in my bed for the rest of our lives, while you're saddled with my baby. Just go! Take her! We really don't care."

Has Justin gone crazy? There's no way Michael will fall for that.

But then, to my surprise, Michael slows down, looking over his shoulder at us. A moment later, he turns and sneers at Justin, yelling, "Fat lot you know! I don't plan on keeping her. See?" And to my horror, he flings the baby into the air. Up, up she goes.

Justin takes off. I see him running, jumping, reaching, falling.

~ ¤ ~

The next thing I'm aware of is a very bright light. I slit my eyes open against the glare from the sun. Someone slaps my face, insisting, "Come on, Brian. Wake up."

"Sunshine?" My voice sounds strained, weak as I squint up at Justin. His features are out of focus, his blond hair surrounding his head like a halo. What the heck happened to me?

"Yeah, Brian, it's me. Welcome back to the land of the living. You had me worried for a minute."

I shiver, suddenly aware that I'm really cold. "McKenna? Is she okay? What happened?"

The little twat has the audacity to chuckle. "You fainted."

Christ, I'll never hear the end of this. Here I am, lying on the icy, snow-covered street with no coat on. I don't care about any of that, though, as long as McKenna is okay. She must be, or Justin wouldn't be wasting time teasing me.

"McKenna?" I prompt him, anxious to hear that our daughter really is okay.

"She's fine," Justin reassures me. "I went down pretty hard, but I held on tight. She landed on top of me."

"I can't believe you did that. Just because you wear those damn Air Jordans doesn't mean you can fly through the air."

"Huh? Brian, you're acting delusional. I caught her, Brian. McKenna's safe. I'm safe. I'm not sure about you, though."

"Where is she?" I want to know.

"One of the officers took her back to Deb's," Justin fills me in. "You were only out for a few minutes, but I didn't want to keep her out here any longer."

"Cold," I mumble, my teeth starting to chatter.

"C'mon, let's get you up," Justin urges me, attempting to stand.

"No, stay," I tell him, pulling him down on top of me. "Oof!" I exclaim as he lands on me.

"You're the one who pulled me down here. Why would you do that?" Justin jokes, a twinkle in his eye.

"I figured I'd get warmer faster this way. And see, I already feel warmer," I deadpan before asking, "What all went down anyway?"

"The cops fired a shot. Got Michael in the leg and halted his escape. He's already been carted off."

"Good riddance," I mutter darkly.

"Seriously, you need to get up, so we can get out of the middle of the street." This time Justin succeeds in standing up, and I accept the hand he holds out to me, lumbering ungracefully to my feet. "I don't want either of us to get pneumonia. Let's go get our little girl..."

"Yeah," I agree, wrapping an arm around Justin. "Let's get our daughter and go home."

TBC