I start to walk to the stand in front of the judges then stop. “You coming?” I call over my shoulder. I feel calmer when his hand takes mine. I place the paper on the stand, but know I won’t need it. I am about to start when Judge Balsam clears his throat. .

“Pardon the interruption, but they can face you or not, as you wish.” He states. I look at Justin and he nods.

“I want them to.”

“The prisoners will take the stand.” He orders, the sound of their footsteps echo around the room. “You will remain standing until he is finished. You do not have the right of reply, any attempt to do so will be treated as contempt, for which you will have terms added to your already laid down sentences, do you understand?”

“Yes Your Honour.” They reply. Whilst she looks at us when she answers, he looks at the floor. “You may begin your statement.”

“I never thought in a million years I would be standing here making a victim statement for the abuse I suffered. I always wished I could and it was them on the stand, but now that I am, I am heartbroken because it is you two. There were times when I wanted him to just kill me and get it over with, just to end the pain, but he was too arrogant for that. He would not let the world know what an absolute…” I pause and look at the judges. “...sorry, I almost said that, but to me he was.”

Justin rubs my back. “You need some water?” I shake my head. “Okay, you were saying.”

“Yeah, I was saying…” I roll my lips in at the little smirk on her face, then catch the fury on his and focus. “I remember the first time he broke my ribs, and the expression on your faces. I thought that it was disgust and hatred of him, but now I know it was fear and also for one of you, guilt. Guilt because you caused it. And she’s right, the abuse would’ve happened anyway, but not as bad. It got so bad. Then one day it just started to get less and less, then it stopped. I couldn’t understand but I was so happy; those were the best three weeks of my childhood because I was happy! We as a family were happy. But like Dad said, you, Mr Grassi, couldn’t bear that, so you got him to beat me again. And I did the one thing he, like you two, never thought I would do: I fought back. But instead of trying to hold me tighter, he was happy for me to leave; they both were. Your brand of love has shown me that this was not love, it was possession; indentured servitude if you will. It was anger of knowing deep down that I didn't feel that for you. It was the hatred of knowing that I could love anyone more than I love you, like my son, like Justin, like Jenny, like everyone behind me. But the truth is you never loved me in the truest sense of the word. Justin does that. You want me to be yours forever, but I am Justin’s. You want to be all things Kinney. We are all things Taylor-Kinney. Dr Morris asked me one time, when did you realise you hate him? At first I thought it was a stupid question because I hated him since I was his punching bag, but then it hit me like a thunderbolt. He was talking about you, Mr Grassi. It is you I hate. I hate you more than Jack, and I have hated you from the minute I held my son in my arms.” I can feel the anger rising, much like it did when I first read the notebook, but Justin’s soothing touch rubs it away. “And I hated you more each second I spent with Justin, because of him I now know what love is and you tried to stop me from having that. And whilst I can’t forgive you for it, yet, me forgetting you will help. You will drift away from my memory, your malodorousness is being replaced day by day by the smell of freedom. To quote Miss Grassi, I am done.”

The court is quiet for a few long seconds, I look down at Justin and he is staring at me with such love and pride that I am almost winded by it. Then I hear it, it starts off quietly, but then it gets louder and louder, the sound of applause. It goes on for five minutes before the yelling and finally loud whistling of Courtney silences the court. As people begin to settle down I have never felt prouder, even more so than when I came out to him...

Start of flashback

THE LOFT - TEN YEARS AGO

BRIAN

“Well, aren’t you going to let me in?” Jack demands.

“You are already in, so the question is moot.” I reply as he continues to walk past me into the lounge. “And you are here because?” He stops walking and turns to face me, anger flashing in his eyes. His fists balling. “Remember the last time? Believe me, whatever I drop on you, I won’t miss.”

He says nothing but does rub his jaw. “Fancy place.”

“Point of visit?” I return.

“I am dying. Cancer. Haven't got…”

“Good.” I cut him off. “At least you will feel some of the pain you caused as it takes its toll on your mind, body and soul. I would say heart but you don’t have one. So what do you want? Money? Sympathy? A walk down memory lane? Want to compare scars?”

“I want you to…” He begins, only to stop and stare behind me, I turn around, seems my appointment has arrived. “Who is this? How do you know him?” He demands. “Where is he going?!” He gasps as the guy heads towards the bedroom pulling off his clothes.

“Never had you down as being into carrion, Kinney. He can watch but he can't fuck me. Only the Stud can do that.” He calls over his shoulder.

“What does he mean, Stud...and fuck?” Jack goes pale. “You mean you…”

“He’s my eleven o’cock.” I smirk and admire the guy, he looks even better in daylight. “So, unless you want to watch me plough his ass...”

“You're a faggot?!” He snarls, starting to take a step but thinking better of it when I match him.

“Yep, I love the feel of a hot guy’s mouth around my big strong cock or up his ass! That’s the one thing I got from you, the ability to fuck all night long!”

“I should’ve…it should be you that’s dying!”

“But you didn’t and I’m not! You are! Now do me a favour - fuck off and do so!”

He stumbles out, pale and shaking, I head to the window and watch him stagger down the road and out of my life for good. Turning to the guy, I wait for him to speak.

“Want to take that angst out on my ass?” He smiles slowly, walking backwards towards the bed.

“Fuck yeah!” I growl, then slam the door and lock it.

End of flashback

JUSTIN

I risk a look behind us and wish I hadn’t. They are all looking so proud with tears running down their faces. Dad taps Arthur on the shoulder and gives him a handkerchief.

“Thanks, Arthur.” I murmur as I take it from him; then I catch the sneering look, as does Brian because he takes the hankie and cleans my face. “So proud.”

“I know.”

“Mr and Mr Taylor-Kinney, you may be seated unless there is anything else you wish to say?” Supreme Justice Iron smiles.

I am about to lead us back when he stops me. “Yes, Your Honour, there is one thing. The files on me and the notebooks, what happens to them?”

“Mr Fitzgerald, please stand with your client.” Supreme Justice orders, and the court starts to murmur in confusion. “Why do you ask, Mr Taylor-Kinney?”

“I am just curious…” He continues. “I mean, could they be sealed?” I hold my breath, we had discussed this last night but hadn’t managed to speak to Arthur about it.

“They could be.” She looks thoughtfully at him. “However, due to the most unprecedented nature of this case, I see no reason for that.” I squeeze his hand, there is something in her face which gives me hope. “In fact, I feel it would be in the best interest of Mr Brian Taylor-Kinney, if they were, and all copies of them, given to him for disposal as he sees fit.”

“Thank you, Your Honour.” Arthur replies quietly, and I bask in the look of horror on its face.

“Now, Mr and Mr Taylor-Kinney, Mr Fitzgerald, and the defendants will return to their seats.”

As he sits down, he turns to his attorney and whispers furiously. His attorney shakes his head but he continues to protest.

“Problem, counsellor?” Supreme Justice asks.

“Uh, my client thought that they would be returned to him, but as I have explained twice, they are evidence so would not have been. He, however, does not want Mr Kin...my apologies, Mr Taylor-Kinney to retain them.”

“What he wants does not matter.” She retorts, then stares at him. It doesn't take long for his shoulders to slump and for him to look away. “The defendants will stand for the final part of judgement.” Slowly they both do so, her more poised than him. “The reason for this is twofold: for Judge Balsam to order where you will be detained for the duration of your sentence, but first, for me to advise you that there is to be no right of appeal, the only way you leave your destination is because of good behaviour…”

“Or in a pine box if he continues to be him!” Someone shouts out, there is a ripple of laughter.

“Silence!” Courtney declares, but she is smiling.

“Quite. Judge Balsam, you may proceed.” Supreme Justice decrees.

“Thank you, Supreme Justice.” Judge Balsam looks over his glasses at them. “I shall begin with the defendant, Michael Charles Grassi. Due to the revised conditions of the restraining order, under which you are ordered to stay at least 40 miles away from Brian Aiden Taylor-Kinney, you will be taken to The Federal Correctional Unit in Terre Haute, Indiana. Remove him to begin his sentence.” The sound of the handcuffs being clapped on him is quickly replaced by his snivelling as he is led out. “Deborah Jane Grassi, you will serve your sentence at Allegheny Women’s Correctional Facility. Remove her to begin her sentence.” I feel him trembling as the cuffs are put on. The silence is so loud as the former Mother of Liberty Avenue is taken away one last time. “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, this trial of the State vs Deborah Jane Grassi and Michael Charles Grassi is hereby settled.” He turns to Courtney. “We leave you in the more than capable hands of Courtney Loveless, but before we go, we must say to Brian Taylor-Kinney, it has been a pleasure and displeasure to meet you. The pleasure for your bravery at coming forward. The displeasure for what you have had to endure to see that justice is served, I hope you feel that it has. I also hope that other people come forward and shine the light on those who abuse through their actions or cause the actions of others.”

“Thank you.” He whispers.

“All rise!” Courtney sounds choked up as they leave the room. “The court is now dismissed.”

We all leave in silence.

TAYLOR-KINNEY TOWNHOUSE - EARLY EVENING

LOUNGE

JUSTIN

“He won’t be long.” I tell everyone as I come back in from the study where Brian is on VC to Lynette and Frederick’s house. “He’s just finishing off the story for Gus and Jenny.”

“How many pages has he read now?” Dad laughs.

“Four.” I chuckle as I sink into the sofa and take the brandy from Mom. “Thanks.”

“Six actually.” Brian corrects me as he comes in. Although he looks tired, he also looks so very happy. He sits behind me then pulls me closer to him. “Can we share that?”

“Of course.” I reply, taking a sip first before giving it to him, as I thought he would, he drains it. “Want more?”

“Please.” Robi gets it, we wait for him to have some, then he smiles. “So, Arthur, why him and not her?”

“Why him and not her what?”

“The restraining order amendment. Why do him but not do her?”

“I didn’t.” Arthur replies frowning. “Those were in place before we met, remember?”

“So, Smelly…uh, where is Mel?”

“She’s been on her phone for the last ten minutes.” Ben replies. “Kitchen.”

Brian gets up, but before he takes two steps a stunned looking Mel returns. She pours a huge glass of brandy, and takes half of it down. “Well…” She coughs at the burn. “...she lived up to her name.”

“Who did?” I frown.

“Iris.” She replies. “Iris the Ironclad. She had the restraining order amended. She successfully argued that based on his behaviour, lack of guilt, etc., etc., and so forth; he would disregard it and continue to harass you. She wanted 60 miles, but they settled on 40.”

“What?! But how?!” Arthur exclaims. “How did she have evidence of his behaviour? Apart from how he was at the beginning and during the trial, there wasn’t any.” We contemplate this, then Brian starts to chuckle. “What?” Arthur demands.

“Mami? How far back do you and Iris go?” Brian asks. We all look at an unusually quiet Mami Auberjohn.

“We met in school.” She replies tearfully. “And I could not let him have a way to come back. I am Chief Goose and Gramma and there was no way he was fucking with that!” She comes to sit next to us. “Him. I loved him the moment I saw him, you pretty much the same because you love him. And for all his swagger and bravado, there was a little boy that just wanted to be loved and not hurt. So I decided to do whatever I could to make sure that happens.” She pulls out a couple of DVDs from her purse and hands them to Arthur. “Keep them for him. If he wants to see them he can ask you.” She turns to Brian, “This is what I gave Iris; what is on there is what convinced the Supreme Court that the snake in the grass is, and would continue to be, a danger to your physical, mental and emotional well being. And if she hadn’t said what she did in her statement, the same would’ve happened to her. I gave them to Arthur because I don’t think you should ever see them, but I will not take away your choice to watch them either.”

“But how did you get them?” Mel asks.

“Like I said, I am a Gramma and now that he finally has a girlfriend, I am determined to also be a grandmother…” She starts to smile. “...all I can say is thank the Lord that someone else is pulling on his….”

“Mami!” Arthur shrieks, making us all giggle before we settle down. “So how?”

“Rene followed them everywhere, recorded everything they said and did. But this…” She hands us another disc. “...has the best bits. There’s Cynthia, the Iron Men, the food fight, um, now what else...ooh, there’s loads on there!”

“So, son..” Papa Vic begins. “...what are you going to do with them?”

”Keep them in a secure box, or...”

“But where?” I look up at my husband.

“Not sure...maybe Non…”

Slowly I begin to smile. “Oh no, leave it with me. I think this dybbuk has a much better idea!”  

“Now enough of this, it is time to celebrate!” Del declares. “Like you said in court, to freedom!”

“To freedom!” We all yell with his voice being the loudest.

FEDERAL CORRECTIONAL UNIT, TERRE HAUTE, INDIANA - SAME TIME

PROCESSING OFFICER SMITH

Generally, I don’t have a view on the criminals that come here. Since we are minimum security, they are petty and small time anyway. But when we were told that we were getting this guy, I was surprised. I felt sure he would be put in medium in Pittsburgh.

“Guard Truman, what a surprise!” I smile at my colleague. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

“Hey, Smithy! This is prisoner Michael Charles Grassi. I wanted to make sure that he got here alive. After all, everyone has their breaking point! I leave him in your capable hands.”

“Yeah, I followed along.” I snicker at the indignant and pissed off look on Grassi’s face. “He's the last one today. I get off in an hour or so, want to meet for a cold one?”

“Yeah, that would be good. See you later.” He dumps the personal effects bag on the counter and strides out.

“So, let's make this as pleasant as possible, okay?” He nods. “Great. This is your schedule for tomorrow and the next six months. Stick to it and the time will fly.”

“Thanks.” He sneers. “I hope you enjoy your beer…” He stares at the form I am completing. “...you have made a mistake there.”

“Where?” I check the paperwork again.

“There. My surname is Kinney. Michael Charles Kinney.”

“No it isn’t!” I tell him sharply, startling him. “You were born and will die Michael Charles Grassi. And like he said, you will also die Michael Charles Grassi, both unloved and unmourned!”

The rest of the processing passes in silence, and I really did enjoy that beer afterwards.

EiGHT MONTHS LATER

BRITIN - MID-MORNING

MASTER BEDROOM

JUSTIN

Finally, it is today. The last few months have been a whirlwind. Thank goodness for Ted and Cynthia, they took the strain with Kinnetic whilst Brian, Ben, Mel and I concentrated on the book. It was a massive success, and Brian is convinced that I can write a series, but right now, this is the start of our honeymoon for the next three months. I had originally wanted six months, but after some deep and thorough negotiations, we reached a delicious compromise.

Obviously, with the Abergin trial, Brian’s case hit the media again. However, it was stopped before it got to opening arguments as his brother, unlike it, admitted his guilt and struck a deal. He got 13 years. As for Memphis, he is now living with Robi in Texas, but is here today along with her.

I chuckle as I watch Gus and Jenny try to wrangle their dogs into their bowtie and hair ribbons. Tyra came along a couple of months after the trial finished. I am still sad and angry that Lindsay has made no effort whatsoever to contact him, but then again she is back where she feels she belongs: in the WASP set, and ironically because of the doctor that gave her the clap...she married him!

“Come on, you two, bath time!” Mom calls out to Gus and Jenny. Naturally, Tyson and Tyra run after them.

I hear the creak of gates being opened and look down the drive, Brian’s wedding present, to himself glides towards the house. As he gets out of the Vette, I can’t help but wonder when we are going to christen the damn thing?!

“Happy Blessing Day, Bear!” I call out of the window as he admires the sleek finish. He looks up, his dazzling smile melts my heart.

“Happy Blessing Day, Tigger!” He calls back. “Get that bubble butt down here!”

Chuckling, I run down the stairs and open the door. He pulls me into a passionate kiss. When we part, he shakes his head at me. “I can't believe you did this.” He stares at Britin, as named by Gus, in wonderment. “You bought this...this…”

“Bear cave? Palace?” I tease him, squirming as he strokes my tattoo.

“Yeah. Why?”

“We were shuffling between three places, it just got to be too much. And this has the style of the townhouse, the house and the loft.”

“Hmm, true.” He kisses my ear. “We need to do a final check and…”

“Well of all the cheek!” Emmett bridles. “As if I am going to fuck this up! Now you are going to go get ready, then come down to be blessed!”

“Sorry, Ems, I just can’t believe...” Brian begins but Emmett holds up a finger.

“Believe it. Now skedaddle!”

EARLY EVENING

GARDEN

BRIAN

I wrap my arms tightly around Justin. He smells of his oil, we both do. Everyone is here, and we are sitting around the fire...his notebooks and my childhood medical records making the perfect kindling in the huge brazier. As my darling dybbuk said at the time, he had the much better idea.

“Are you going to keep her diary or send it to her?” He asks quietly.

“Send it back to her.” He nods. “It is hers.”

“Good.”

“Daddy! Papa!” Gus calls out, trotting towards us. “Can I snuggle with you, like on your wedding day?”

And like that night, we did not refuse him.

The End.