**********

Chapter 11 - Dizzying.

Horvath finishes prepping us for what to expect when we do the Grand Jury thing while Justin and I return to our lunch. I’ve got a knot the size of a grapefruit in my stomach by the time we’re done talking things through. I know I have to do this, but it’s not going to be fun. And the worst part is that I’m not allowed to have anybody with me while I’m testifying. I can tell by looking at my blond that he’s just as anxious about this plan. But, if we want to take out Sapperstein and his evil cohorts, this is the only way to do it.

“That’s about it,” Horvath concludes when he’s detailed everything we should expect on the legal end of things. He sets aside the cup of coffee he’s been sipping at while we talked and stands up. I can tell just by the set of his shoulders that he’s not completely done with us, though. “Just one last thing . . . As soon as we have Sapperstein secured here in Pittsburgh - which should be within the next couple of hours, provided there wasn’t any delay with the transfer of custody from the local sheriff’s office - the Public Relations Department wants to hold an official press conference. This case is way too big to think it’ll fly under the radar for long. The PR guys figure it’s better to make a formal statement now rather than wait and mop up all the leaks and misinformation later. And, since your names were already made public in the stories that got published Saturday night, the PR guys are telling me that we need to at least confirm your identities. I promise to try and protect your privacy as much as possible, and we won’t release any personal information other than your names, but considering that you seem to be fairly well known, Kinney, it’s likely you’ll be in the spotlight. Thought you deserved a head’s up.”

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath and collapse onto the closest barstool.

Nobody else says anything for a couple of minutes while I indulge in a moment of self-pity. I’ve got a killer stress headache already and this announcement isn’t helping. But twisting up my face to block out the world and pinching at the bridge of my nose isn’t really helping much. Eventually, though, I feel a warm hand reaching out to give a reassuring squeeze to my biceps. A second later, I feel Justin step close enough that he can lean his head against my shoulder. His quiet presence, just standing there, not intruding or imposing, simply being silently supportive, is somehow the most reassuring thing I think I’ve ever experienced. I snake a hand around his waist and pull him in closer, soaking in the sense of restful well-being that seems to emanate from his touch. It helps more than I would have ever imagined.

After a couple minutes of this, I hear our detective clearing his voice before speaking up. “You know, I haven’t spent a lot of time around gays, so forgive me if I maybe don’t say this the right way . . . Don't get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against you all, I just don't get it . . . But you two surprise me. None of the fairies I’ve met before were such regular guys.” Both Justin and I glare at him and Horvath holds up a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture to placate us. “That didn’t come out right. Sorry. What I meant to say is, I don’t think I’ve ever met two braver guys. I know how tough this has got to be and I gotta say I’m impressed. You’re handling this way better than I would.”

So, yay, we’ve got the approval of the straight, middle-aged, white guy, apparently. Woo hoo! It doesn’t make this whole debacle any easier.

“Well, I’ve got to get going. Bad guys to round up and all,” Horvath declares as he steps close enough to offer his hand. “I’ll send a car around to pick you up tomorrow morning around eight to bring you to the courthouse. If you need anything else in the meantime, you’ve got my number.”

“Wait, Detective,” Justin speaks up before Horvath can make his escape. “Would it be possible for me to get into Babylon long enough to grab my stuff from my old employee locker? Pretty much everything I own is in that locker.” He holds his arms out as if to display the lovely ensemble he’s wearing, which consists of my old, baggy, and far too large sweats and an equally voluminous t-shirt. “As you can see, I have nothing to wear - especially not anything appropriate for court.”

“Yeah, I think that can be arranged,” Horvath concedes with a fatherly smile. “The place has been sealed up until forensics has a chance to finish going through everything, but I can have someone meet you over there and escort you in.”

We finish making arrangements to visit the club one last time. Justin tries to argue that he doesn’t need me to go with him on this errand, but Horvath agrees that it’s probably safer if we stick together, at least until after the legal stuff is all done. My blond reluctantly capitulates and Horvath takes his leave. After I shut the door behind the cop’s back I start to go through my mental list of all the other things I still need to get through besides the added trip to Babylon. Even though it’s not an overly long list, I’m drained just thinking about it. It’s been a long day and I can tell that Justin’s exhausted - hell, I’m feeling pretty worn out myself after all the bullshit we’ve had to deal with already today - but when I suggest he go lie down and rest for a bit before we head out, he balks. He’s stubborn like that. It’s probably why we get along so well.

“I am pretty tired, Brian, but if I stop now, I don’t think I’ll be able to get up again. Once I’m in bed, I’ll probably be there for the duration,” Justin explains with an apologetic smile. “Would you mind if we just go pick up the stuff from the club now and get it over with?”

“I suppose. Let me just call Ted. I’m thinking we can kill two errands with one stone here - he can give us a lift to Babylon first and then we can head out to the ‘burbs to pick up my Jeep.”

As expected, Ted is happy to have an excuse to duck out of his boring job early. He tells me he’ll be over in about a half hour. And while we’re waiting for our ride to arrive, I decide to finally bite the bullet and call my boss.

“Hey, Marty. So, a funny thing happened to me on my way home from the bar last week . . .” I begin the tale, offering the most abridged version of events I think I can get away with.

Needless to say, Marty Ryder isn’t very sympathetic. My story about how I was held captive for a week and then had to fight my way out, saving my fellow captive from being murdered in the process, doesn’t seem to sway him at all. He’s still pissed off about the number of days of work I missed and incensed by my news that I’ll likely miss several more while I’m ‘fucking around in court’ the rest of this week - his words, not mine, although I empathize with the sentiment. But the clincher is when I inform him about the PPD’s upcoming press conference and the fact that my name is likely to get prominently mentioned in association with a huge gay sex trafficking scandal. It doesn’t seem to register with Ryder that I’m the hero here - I’m the one helping to bring down these bad guys - only that my relationship to the mess may bring Ryder & Associates into disrepute as well. The only thing that eventually shuts him up is when I threaten to have my new buddy, Carl Horvath, Senior Detective with the Pittsburgh Police Department's Homicide Squad, pay him a personal visit.

By the time I’ve placated Ryder, promising to work from home as much as possible until I can get back to the office full time, my chauffeur has arrived. But because, apparently, Ted and Emmett come as a set, my driver arrives with an assistant in tow. Justin answers the buzzer and lets them in while I’m getting changed into go-outside-the-loft clothes. And when I come out of the bedroom less than five minutes later, I find Em glomming all over my blond, who’s apparently been telling them about our legal woes.

“Oh, Baby! I know it’s gonna be hard, but you can do it. I know you can. And we’ll be here to back you up if you need it. Right, Teddy?” Em coos supportively as he leans in to hug Justin.

“Hands off, Honeycutt,” I order, striding across the loft to come up behind Justin, and then deliberately peeling the big queen’s hands away from the boy. “Get your own blond. This one's taken.” I pull the youth back against my chest and wrap my own arms around his chest.

“Possessive much, Bri?” Emmett grouses, adding in a wink to let me know he’s only teasing . . . mostly. “Baby was just telling us that the police caught The Sapp so you’ll be going to court sooner rather than later. Are you okay with that?”

“No. But do I have a choice? It’s not like the legal system is going to wait till I’ve . . . recovered . . . And I’ll be damned if I let Sapperstein walk after what he’s done.”

“At least you don’t have it nearly as bad as poor Justin here,” Ted adds with an apologetic glance towards my boy. “He’s the one that’s going to have to get up on the stand in front of a courtroom full of people and testify about how Saperstein’ goons assaulted him. I seriously can’t imagine anything more traumatic than that, except for actually living through what they did in the first place.”

Ted’s clueless comment, causes me to look sideways at Emmett, my erstwhile adventure buddy. I tilt my head ever so slightly in Ted’s direction, beaming my question at him telepathically. Emmett scrunches up his face and, with an almost imperceptible motion, shakes his head. Apparently, he hasn’t blabbed the entire story to Ted yet. I guess I owe him for that. Although my reprieve is likely to be short-lived, what with Horvath’s PR conference happening in just a few hours.

Meanwhile, Ted is continuing to emote all over the place. “I know we only met a few days ago, Justin, but I just want you to know you can count on me if you need anything. I can’t tell you how impressed I am at the strength you’re showing through all of this. The way you’re handling things is just remarkable. I know I couldn’t do it. So, whatever you need, just say the word and I’ll do whatever I can to help. I promise.”

I can tell from the stiff way Justin’s holding his shoulders while Ted delivers this soliloquy, that he’s embarrassed. “Thank you, Ted. I appreciate the offer of support,” Justin responds with an awkward formalness that doesn’t really fit him.

“Okkkaaaayyyy. So, Theodore, if you’re done professing your everlasting love and bottomless devotion to my boyfriend, can we go already?” I joke, just trying to relieve some of the tension in the air and not really thinking about my words until they’re out there.

“Boyfriend?” Ted immediately focuses on the one word in that entire sentence that I wish he had misheard. “Did I just hear the Great God Kinney use the word ‘boyfriend’? This, coming from the man who, as recently as a month ago, declared that he doesn’t ‘do’ boyfriends? That he doesn’t believe in love, only fucking. That relationships are just meaningless heteronormative rituals designed to give people an excuse to fuck when they don’t really need one. What happened to that guy, Brian?”

Deflect, deflect, deflect . . . “Gee, Theodore! I didn’t know you memorize every word I say verbatim. That’s impressive. And it’s also undeniable proof that you need a life of your own so you can get laid instead of worrying about who I’m fucking,” I say, hitting back hard and hoping it’s enough to change the topic. But, hey, at least Ted’s no longer commenting on people being sexually assaulted, so that’s good, right? “Now, before I die of old age, can we go already?”

“Nice try, Brian,” Ted responds with a smirk. “You can insult me all you want, but I’m still not going to forget you said the word ‘boyfriend’.”

I glare at him as he chuckles to himself before starting for the door, car keys already in his hand. I’m so glad my horribly traumatic experience is providing amusement to my friends. Just for good measure, I also send a warning glare Emmett’s way.

“What? Did I say anything?” Emmett asks, barely concealing a a smirk of his own.

I just shake my head, glare some more, and point him towards the door.

Then I finally release my hold on Justin’s shoulders with a sigh. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” he answers, smiling up at me with an incandescent grin. Then he adds, “and, nice try at distracting Ted from talking about Sapp and me from freaking out about going back to the club. It mostly worked.”

“You’re welcome, Sunshine.”

**********

“Here you are.” The hot young police officer who met us at the door to the club and escorted us back to the employee locker room gestures us inside. “Try not to touch anything other than your own locker, please. Not that we expect to find much evidence in here, but you never know.”

“Thanks, Officer. I promise I’ll be quick,” Justin answers as he marches straight over to his own locker in the back corner.

“It’s Cadet Harris. I’m not an officer yet, I’m afraid,” the young man in the shiny, new uniform explains. “But, luckily, since this case is so huge and everyone down at the station is already busy interviewing witnesses and victims, they pulled a few of us cadets out of classes for the day. Not that guarding an empty building is that thrilling, mind you, but it’s better than sitting in a classroom for another day.”

While Justin’s busy pulling a large black canvas duffle bag out of his locker and stuffing his clothing and other random items into it, I take my time inventorying the Cadet’s many fine attributes. He’s not bad looking. Young, uptight, and oblivious, maybe, but that hot little ass has certain possibilities.

“I think I probably left some of my toiletries out in the dressing room. I hope nobody’s taken it all,” Justin mutters as he sets the duffle on a bench and trots off around a dividing wall looking for the rest of his stuff.

I take the opportunity to begin chatting up Cadet Hottie. The kid is polite enough but clearly clueless. He seems strangely naive for someone that plans to be a cop; he doesn’t even seem to know that Babylon was a gay club or understand the underlying nature of the ‘big case’ that this facility is tied to. How guileless can you get, huh? But I’ve got nothing else to do at the moment, so I entertain myself by making sexually charged innuendos that seem to fly right over the tyro’s head.

“I’m pretty sure he’s straight, Brian,” Justin whispers, elbowing me in the side with a knowing expression when he returns and figures out what I’m up to.

“That’s never stopped me before,” I respond with a wink before I return to leering at our police escort.

Justin chuckles under his breath and shakes his head at me but seems more amused by my antics than anything. That’s a good sign. I was worried that using the ‘B’ word might make things awkward between us. However, it seems like my blond is pretty easy-going about these things. Which only makes me like him even more. If I ever were going to take on a boyfriend, Justin’s actually the kind of guy I’d want for the position.

I’m still busy calculating the advisability of a Justin-type romantic relationship, when we’re all interrupted by the arrival of another party on the scene.

“You Harris?” the newcomer asks, directing his comments to our Cadet escort. “Ken Reichert." The older man, dressed in a rumpled, cheap, brown sports jacket flashes his badge at the Cadet. “I’m supposed to be meeting the forensics team that’s going to finish up here.”

This new arrival isn’t exactly what I’d call a credit to the Pittsburgh PD. He’s probably in his late fifties, balding, wrinkled, and paunchy. He’d be no match physically for any reasonably fit criminal. He’s also a slob; his suit’s not only old and styleless but also filthy, with flecks of dandruff adorning the collar and a smudge of some kind of food stain on the lapel. On top of all that, there's something about this guy’s attitude that I just don’t like - I can somehow tell simply by looking at him that he’s a condescending asshole.

“Yes, Sir, Detective.” Cadet Harris snaps to attention. “I was just supervising while this employee gets his personal stuff out of his locker. Detective Horvath’s orders, Sir,” the young man explains. “No one's been in any of the other areas of the building, Sir,”

“Thank you, Cadet. I’ll take over from here. You can go back to your post at the door,” Riechert dismisses the boy, waving him off as if he doesn’t matter, before turning to look directly at Justin and myself for the first time. “Evening, Gentlemen.”

*****Flash*****

“Evening, Gentlemen,” the flippant words echo through my head, the sound amplified and distorted by whatever drugs they’ve pumped into me. “Hope I’m not too late for a share of the fun.”

I’m lolling in a black haze, trying to block out the rolling waves of pain and fear that keep threatening to swamp me, while the room spins around me. My tormentors seem to be allowing me a moment's respite from their attentions, thank fuck. However, the advent of this new party guest doesn’t foretell anything good. Especially not when his entrance garners a round of malicious laughter.

“Kenny! You old dog. ‘Bout time you got your ass here,” The Sapp greets his newest guest.

“Sorry I’m late. I had to see to this sweet little hustler who promised me he’d do anything if I’d drop the solicitation charges against him. And I do mean ANYTHING!” this new voice jokes, eliciting even more raucous laughter from his buddies. “I slammed into his precious little ass so hard I’ll be surprised if he isn’t permanently paralysed . . . and then I threw him in a holding cell anyway, because we wouldn’t want to encourage that kind of thing, now would we?”

Kenny’s sycophantic audience seems to think this outcome was absolutely hilarious and spends the next several minutes trading jokes about the poor unfortunate that thought this monster would actually help him. I’m so out of it that I only understand about a quarter of the conversation, but that’s fine by me since I don’t think I want to know everything they’re saying. I’ll just lay here, wallowing in my own pain and misery, hoping they get so involved in their own conversation that they forget about me.

“So what did I miss here? Looks like you boys have been busy without me,” Kenny eventually brings the conversation around to the present again, much to my chagrin.

“Ah, we’ve got quite a variety on the menu for you tonight, Kenny,” Sapperstein brags, slapping my thigh familiarly as he passes by, heading towards the sling on the end and its unfortunate occupant. “As a starter, we have this slutty little skank. But I warn you - he’s a pretty little bottom boy, but obviously overused - his ass is as loose as the town slut on prom night. He’s not bad for a warm up though.” I’ve got my eyes shut so I can’t see what it is they’re doing to the dark-haired boy they’re currently talking about. “This one, I’d save for dessert, if I were you,” Sapp continues, his voice modulating to almost a moan. “He’s like a golden twinkie, stuffed full of delicious cream and tight as a fucking drum. Aren’t you sweetheart?” I hear a groan from the blond strung up beside me and even in the depths of my own misery I find I can still feel horror for whatever they’re doing to my poor neighbor. “And finally - the main course, if you will - a taste of Super Stud. This one’s a special project of mine. He’s the type that’s always thought himself superior to the rest of us peons. Bragging that he’s the best top around and making sure everyone knows he never bottoms. Which is probably why I’m having so much fun showing him the error of his ways.”

Sapperstein punctuates his words with a vicious pinch to the bare skin of my right thigh, causing me to groan and try to flinch away from him. Of course it’s a hopeless effort seeing as I’m still restrained and it only amuses my captors even more. New Guy, though, seems titillated and moves closer as if to get a better look. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my head away.

“Don’t be like that, Sweetcheeks. A pretty little thing like you?” I can feel the man running his fingers lightly down my cheek, gently tickling over my abraded skin, curling around the corner of my jaw and then down the column of my neck. I’m embarrassed to say I actually lean into the touch at first - it’s the first touch I’ve experienced that wasn’t meant to cause pain and, in my drugged out fog, my body forgets for a moment that this man is a danger. “So truly pretty. You just need to be shown, don’t you. You need to be taught how the world is supposed to be.” His voice is getting louder and more harsh but his touch is still soft as his fingers trace across the bones of my clavicle. “You obviously just don’t understand, right, Sweetcheeks? You’re not in charge here. You never were. You’re not a top. You’re nothing. You’re just another bottom boy. An ass whore like all the rest.” Now the fingers are wrapped around the base of my throat and they’re no longer gentle. “I’m the one in charge here, Sweetcheeks. And it’s time for you to learn that lesson.”

As the man’s grip tightens like a vice around my windpipe, my eyelids fly open and I look directly into the malevolent ice-grey eyes of the man looming above me. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m totally at his mercy. And I’m screaming in my head but no sound can get out.

Then I slowly pass out from the lack of oxygen even as my latest tormentor moves around, still maintaining his stranglehold on my throat, so he can continue my lesson with further personal affronts to other parts of my body.

*****Flash*****

My flashback dissipates in a blaze of blinding white light leaving me gasping for air and fighting against the wave of nausea that’s threatening to drop me to my knees. I feel almost as paralyzed as I did when I was immobilized in that fucking sling. I desperately want to run, somewhere, anywhere, just as long as I can get away from HIM. But there’s nowhere to go. The monster is blocking the only door out of here. I’m trapped and ready to panic.

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything,” Justin announces as he zips his duffle bag closed.

Fuck! I guess Justin was too busy packing his shit to even look up at the newcomer. Either that or he doesn’t remember ‘Kenny’ here because of the drugs. He’s completely unaware of the danger.

As a result, my ‘fight or flight’ reaction switches immediately to FIGHT!

I shift my body sideways so that I’m physically shielding Justin. My abrupt movements must have finally alerted him to the present danger because he drops the duffle bag and silently reaches out to grab hold of my arm. I can hear his breathing going ragged as he looks over my shoulder at the now openly leering Detective.

“Looks like you two remember more than is healthy for you,” the sadist taunts. “When I heard that Horvath had found himself some witnesses, I figured as much. Tried to warn Gary that those drugs he was always touting weren’t reliable. He tried to argue that any of you boys who did actually remember enough to be a problem would be too smart to come forward. Unfortunately, you two seem to have missed class the day they handed out the brains. Which is why it’s now up to me to teach you that lesson.”

*****Flash*****

“I’m the one in charge here, Sweetcheeks. And it’s time for you to learn that lesson.”

*****Flash*****

“Fuck you AND your fucking lessons, Asswipe,” I growl through my teeth at the man. “This time I’m not all zonked out on drugs and easy prey for you. And if anyone’s going to be taught a lesson it’s you.”

“Hahaha!” the cretin bursts out laughing as if this was the funniest situation he’d ever found himself in. “You’re so cute when you think you’re in charge, Sweetness. But we both know that I’m the one in control here. I’m always the one in control. Don’t you remember? Remember the way I took control of you?”

Riechert takes a step towards where Justin and I are standing, his hand out as if to reach up and fondle my face. I experience another moment of pure dread and feel frozen in place. Only the whimper of fear from the blond cringing against my back motivates me. I manage to step sideways, out of Riechert's reach, pushing Justin along with me. But after only a couple steps, we’re all the way in the corner and there’s nowhere else to retreat. Riechert is still laughing.

“Enough playtime, Sweetcheeks. I don’t have time for this. The Boss wants me to tie up you two loose ends before Horvath’s fucking press conference. So, here’s how this is going to work.” He’s now standing there in the aisle between the rows of lockers, blocking the passage with his body, legs in a wide, commanding stance and his left hand resting on the butt of the gun holstered at his hip. “I’m going to take Blondie with me - he was never supposed to be allowed to leave and there are people who are still waiting to get a taste of that sweet twinkie ass of his - and you’re going to go tell Horvath that you’ve changed your mind about testifying. If you’re a good boy and do as you’re told, Blondie will remain alive. If not, I’m sure there’s a dumpster around here somewhere that we can leave his broken body in. Got it?”

“No, no, no, nonononono . . .” Justin is sobbing and I feel his body collapsing as he slumps down into a little ball of panic on the floor at my feet.

Thankfully, the fucker’s threat against Justin has unfrozen me, and now I’m angry enough to resume fighting back. “Fuck you!” I spit back at the man tormenting us all over again. “You’re not going to lay a fucking hand on Justin ever again. And there’s no way in Hell that I’m going to let you or your perv friends walk away from this. I’m going to fucking scream about what you did at the top of my voice from the damn rooftops if that’s what it takes.”

“You sure about that, Sweetness?” the creep drawls with a nasty sneer. And then he pulls the gun out of its holster and points it directly at the middle of my chest.

For about thirty seconds I think I might pass out from fear and lack of oxygen as I again forget how to breathe. Is this it? Is this the way my life ends? He’s going to actually shoot me, isn’t he? Because there’s no way I’m going to let this sadist take Justin - I couldn’t live with myself if I let that happen, not when I know the kind of torture they would subject him to again - so I might as well let Riechert kill me first. Not that my death will save the boy, but it’s all I have to offer at this point.

However, while the cretin stands there smirking at us, apparently amused by the terror he’s causing and assured that he’s got the upper hand, I see a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Without turning my head - because I don’t want to give anything away - I briefly glance in that direction. There’s someone standing just outside and to the right of the door to the locker room. Whoever’s there is mostly hidden from view except for the shadows he or she is casting. I start to breathe again. We’re not alone in here after all. The only question is whether the person lurking out in the hall is on our side or is with the bad guys. But what the hell. I figure I might as well try and bluff my way through this.

“You’re going to have to fucking shoot me, Motherfucker, because that’s the only way you’re getting to Justin,” I dare him, noting that my response causes his gloating smile to slip just a bit - looks like he didn’t plan on me having the balls to stand up to him. “Just remember, I’ve already given a full statement to Horvath - maybe not in court, but it’s all on tape - and if I end up dead, or even just disappear, it’s going to look even worse for those of you I’ve already identified.” So, yeah, I’m totally bluffing, because I didn’t remember this particular thug until just a minute ago . . . But he doesn’t know that. “You willing to risk adding a murder charge to your sentence, Riechert? Or would that just be ANOTHER murder charge? Seems to me you might be the one who took out the other boys they found in dumpsters, seeing as you just mentioned it again to us. That should be fun . . . Don’t they do unspeakable things to dirty cops that end up in prison? Not that you don’t deserve it, you douchebag.”

I know I’m babbling at this point, but there’s a reason for it. While I’m waxing eloquent and taunting Riechert, I can see more movement out in the hall. I’m hoping that whoever is out there is a friend, not a foe, and by keeping the bad guy’s attention, I’m distracting him from noticing our potential rescuer. But what I see when the guy in the hall finally makes his move is a surprise even to me.

“Shut the fuck up, Kinney,” Riechert rumbles menacingly, taking a half step forward so that the gun is now only inches from my midsection. “You think the guys I work for won’t find a way out of all of that? They’re more powerful than you could possibly understand. That taped statement of yours won’t ever see the light of day. Neither will your body after we’re done with it. So, either you play nice, agree to recant your statement, and let me take the boy as insurance, or try me and see if I don’t call your bluff and shoot you right here.”

“Yeah, I’d think that plan through again if I were you, Shitstain,” I proclaim just as the heavy glass bowl full of condoms - the one that had previously resided on the ledge next to the locker room door so that the club’s employees would always have protection on hand - comes crashing down on the back of Riechert's head and he falls in an insensate heap at my feet.

“Take THAT you waste of human tissue, you!” Emmett rejoices as he kicks Riechert's prostrate body with the toe of his trendy, cordovan-colored Ugg boots. Then he rubs his hands together as if to remove any dust remaining on them and steps carefully over the shards of glass and scattered condom packets lying everywhere. “Are you guys okay? Did that dickhead hurt you? If he laid a hand on either of you, I’m going to go apeshit crazy on his unconscious ass before the police can get here to cart his limp dick off to jail.”

The wash of relief that floods through my body has my knees feeling too weak to hold my body upright anymore and I let myself slump to the ground next to my still cowering blond. “We’re okay. He didn’t have time to hurt us. I’m just . . . Fuck!” I manage enough energy to reach over and pull Justin into a sitting position and clamp my arms around him protectively, whispering whatever reassurances I can to him. “It’s okay. It’s over, Sunshine. I wasn’t going to let him get to you. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

“Is Baby going to be okay? Should I call an ambulance?” Emmett asks as he hovers worriedly over us.

“No. Just call Horvath. DON’T talk to anyone else - ONLY Horvath. He’s the only one I trust. Tell him to get his fucking ass over here NOW before this asswipe wakes the fuck up,” I order and then use my heel to slide the gun across the floor from where it dropped till I can easily reach out and pick it up. With no better idea of where to stash it safely, I hand the gun to Emmett and return to my blond consolation duties.

While Honeycutt follows orders, I concentrate on helping Justin. He’s still totally out of it. His skin feels cold and clammy to the touch and I can feel him shaking like a leaf. Can’t really blame him; I’m a little shaky myself. I know he’s coming out of his panic attack, though, when a sob finally breaks through the veneer of his shock. And the next thing I know he’s crying buckets into the fabric of my shirt.

“He . . . He was going to . . . He was going to take me back there, Brian. They were going to . . . to . . . to h-h-hurt me again. They . . . They won’t ever let me go,” Justin keens through his tears.

“Shhh. It’s okay,” I whisper, trying to comfort him with whatever words pop into my head. “You’re safe now. You’re safe. I would never let him take you, Justin. I won’t ever let anyone take you away from me. Never again. You’re safe. We’re both safe. Shhh.”

“Okay, Horvath’s on his way. And, from the sounds of it, he’s pretty pissed off too,” Emmett announces as he ends the call he was on.

Just then our recently subdued attacker starts to stir and I hear a muffled moan. Apparently, though, Emmy Lou is having none of that and, with perfect nonchalance, he let’s go with another well-aimed kick to the back of Riechert's head that’s hard enough to cause his melon to bounce off the metal leg of one of the benches with a resounding ‘clang’. After that Riechert goes quiet again. None of us care enough about the man to bother to check and see if he’s even still breathing or not.

“That’s right, you cunt. You better just lay still or else,” Em proclaims and then sits down atop the very bench under which Riechert is lying. “Oh. Darn, I forgot. I better call Teddy and tell him why it’s taking so long. Good thing I came in here to tell you that that cop made him move the car and he had to park two blocks over cause he couldn’t find another space, huh?” Em puts his phone to his ear again. “Teddy? Sorry, Hon, there’s going to be a little delay . . . No, we’ve got it covered. It could be a while though . . . I’ll tell you all about it later. Gotta go help Brian with Baby. Ciao.” He puts the phone away in his pants pocket and looks at us with determination. “So, I’m thinking maybe I should call my therapist buddy and see if he can’t move your appointment up to today, huh?”

I try to smile, fail and then simply bury my face in the mop of Justin’s hair, soaking in the reassurance of his scent and the warmth of his skin under my touch while we wait for Horvath to arrive.

**********

“You sure you’re feeling up to this?” I ask as we pull up outside the Diner almost three hours later. “We can always order in if you’re too tired. It’s been a long fucking day and you look like you’re about to drop, Sunshine.”

“I’m too hungry to wait for food to be delivered, Brian. Besides, Em and Ted said they’d meet us here and we can’t just blow them off. Not after all the help they’ve been,” Justin assures me as he climbs out of the passenger seat of the Jeep.

A lot has happened since we were cornered in the employee locker room back at Babylon. Horvath and his crew showed up less than ten minutes after Emmett called him and carted Riechert off to the hospital under guard. We gave him our statements about what happened and the additional flashes of memory I’d had when Riechert confronted us. Justin refused to go back to the hospital himself, repeating over and over again that he was alright even though he’s still a little wobbly on his feet when we finally leave the club. Horvath promised that he’ll get to the bottom of the story and root out Riechert's dirty cohorts inside the police department, up to and including Riechert's old partner, who just so happens to be the current Chief of Police. Then we were given a police escort as Teddy drove us out to the suburbs to finally pick up my Jeep. And while we were driving around town, Horvath’s PR folks apparently went forward with their press conference, which we listened to on the radio news as we drove.

Now, we’re here at the Liberty Diner to meet back up with the gang and get some food into my exhausted and starving blond.

I walk around the front of the car to where Justin is waiting for me. I grab hold of his hand, squeezing tight to reassure the both of us, but pause before taking another step forward. Because this is it, isn’t it? This is the big reveal. That press conference was on every news station and is probably all over social media by now. I’m outed whether I wanted to be or not and everyone will know by now that I wasn’t just some random hero that strode in off the street and rescued the next Dumpster Boy.

I’m one of the victims.

Am I ready for this? No. But I don’t have a choice either.

Justin seems to sense my inner turmoil. He leans his head sideways so that it’s resting against my shoulder. He sighs deeply. I forget that he’s also having to face up to this new reality of ours. He’s also going to have to bear whatever negative consequences beset us as a result of our story becoming known. But the realization that he’s in this with me, standing right there by my side, somehow helps. Together, our combined strength is greater than what either of us could pony up alone.

And thinking back over everything that’s happened in the not quite three days since I first stumbled away from my captors - can it really be only three days when it feels like a year’s worth of events have happened in that short time - I realize that I wouldn’t have done anything differently even if I had a choice. I could never have done anything differently. Because I simply had to do what I did.

For Justin. For him. For the man now standing with me against all the odds.

From the moment I found my way to that Diner booth, bloody and still raving from the drugs, it’s all been about finding and protecting Justin. Because something happened to us that week we were huddled together in our prison room. Something that I can’t even explain. We were victims together - yes - but we’re also survivors together. We are the only two people on the planet that can understand that horrendous week. And we came out of that experience as different people. Better people, I think. So I guess I CAN do this thing - as long as I have my blond standing beside me.

Wow, talk about life altering moments.

“Come on. You can do this, Big Guy,” Justin murmurs and tugs on my arm to get me walking. “We’re in this together, right?”

I shrug but let him tow me through the door of the Diner. The noise inside immediately ceases and all the people turn to stare at us as we walk in, hand-in-hand. We seat ourselves in the booth across from where Ted and Emmett are waiting. It’s almost perfectly silent in here. Until, finally, one big bear of a man who I vaguely recognize from the baths, stands up from his table near the window, turns to face us, and starts clapping. Within seconds, he’s joined by a dozen others. Then the entire Diner is standing up, clapping and cheering for us. Justin is smiling and looking bashful but he’s now clapping too, and beaming at me along with the rest.

And this time, when it seems like the lights are too bright and the cacophony of the Diner is too loud and I feel a little dizzy, it’s actually okay. I don’t mind this time. This time, maybe things are going to be alright.

**********

Now on to the Happily Ever After.