CHAPTER FIVE...   AND HERE COMES THE REAL RAGE

EMMETT:

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

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

“Justin, calm down!”

“I AM CALM!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“EMMETT!”

Click!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mel, you don’t have to…”

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

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

“Horatio’s Staging and Loans?”

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

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

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

“Are you?”

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

He shrugs. “It was nothing…”

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

“I didn’t do it for that, Honeycutt.”

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

MELANIE:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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