CHAPTER 52: MICK WITH A SIDE OF WASP

BRIAN:

After Justin and I completed the phone call with Thorne, he decided that there was no time like the present to see our nemesis. He’s going to see mine, Craig; while I go tackle his biggest detractor, my former best friend. I can honestly say that I’m NOT looking forward to these visits at all, but I know that if we’re going to have all the answers we need, it’s a must. So I figured that while I’m driving us there, he could continue my WASP education so to speak.

“Justin?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve always wondered why you refer to your society upbringing as the WASP nest, while Lindsay has always thought of it as home in a sense.”

He chuckles. “That’s easy to answer, but first you have to really understand its origins. As with all societies or caste systems, there is a hierarchy so to speak. The WASPs- or to use the correct term - White Anglo-Saxon Protestants, who can trace their heritage back to Britain and the original American colonists- aren’t any different, just richer. Our currency is mostly in big business and having political clout. It’s how Hobbs Sr., Stockwell, and others like them are able to pull the shit they do. Having wealth is having a warm place to hide everything that’s chronically fucked up in your life.”

I nod, understanding exactly what he means by that last sentence. It was exactly why no one was able to get through the walls I built around myself. Presenting myself cloaked in Armani, Prada, or any other label I could think of was a symbol of status, and while clothed in them, I remained untouchable. Still do, if I’m honest, but only Justin knows that about me. “So why do you call it a nest?”

“Because all they do is buzz and sting. Gossip and innuendo can sink an empire faster than a stock market crash. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, although in most cases it is, but any hint of scandal has the rest of the idiots clamoring to see your downfall. Very few will stand with you and jeopardize their own standing within that world.”

“Is that why Craig basically ordered you to hide who you are?”

“Yes, and no. A-Gays like Garth Racine are untouchable because he’s out and proud. There aren’t any secrets about his sexuality, and whereas it’s affected his business, it wasn’t to the point where there was a definite notability. In fact, he’s richer now than if he had opted to stay in the closet. No, my father’s problem was entirely different. Craig is like your mother used to be, where he uses Old Testament religion to support his bigotry while ignoring the fact that he was technically sinning himself. I mean, he broke three of the major commandments: Thou shall not steal; Thou shall not commit adultery; Thou shall not covet anything of thy neighbors. Craig’s entire existence is centered on that last one since he wanted my mother’s standing within the WASP nest.”

“Sounds a lot like my house growing up. Everything must appear perfect, yet behind the closed doors and curtains, hell was reigning. So what do you make of Joan?”

“She’s trying, Brian. She really is. And it’s more than either one of us ever thought she would. It’s alright to hope, you know?”

“I just feel like I’m waiting for something… for me to wake up, maybe?”

“Well stop it! Take the situation for what it is,” Justin says before he sighs. “Some of us will never get that chance.”

We fall silent for a few minutes and I can tell he’s thinking about Craig. It’s funny, but somehow with time, I’ve managed to make peace with both of my parents. By the end of his life, Jack, for all his jealousy, idiocy and hate towards me my entire life, was able to appreciate the man I’d become without his guidance. Maybe it was fathering in reverse or some such shit, but I know that Gus will never have to go through the things I did because I’m determined not to repeat the Kinney curse. Maybe that’s the real take away from all this… to find a way to move forward in spite of, not because of.

I take Justin’s hand in mine, keeping my eyes on the road, and say, “You’re still more of a man than any of them will ever be, Justin. And not because of your roots, or your upbringing, but because of the things you do. Craig’s life hasn’t and doesn’t define yours. Okay?”

“Okay.”

We pull into the prison yard, and after showing our IDs, are admitted into the parking area. Carl told us that Craig was moved to the same facility Michael was a week ago. It would have been sooner, except that he had run out of reasons to delay the inevitable. It helped that every case of his will be tried separately, so each time his attorney asked if his client could be released on his own recognizance the answer came back a resounding NO from different judges. Because all of the funds belonging to Justin and Molly haven’t been recovered yet, he’s still considered a flight risk.

“Ready?” Justin asks me.

“As much as I can ever be. You?”

“The same.” He sighs. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Hey, put your game face on. Don’t let him see that this is getting to you.”

“Same goes for you. Michael will try every trick he has to get you to feel guilty about what he’s landed himself in. Don’t let him!”

We get checked in and while Justin heads to Cell Block A, I go a ways down the hall to Cell Block D. I wonder if it stands for Dumbass, which is exactly what Michael is. Before I enter the conference room where I’ve been told to go, I’m accosted by a very familiar face.

“Long time, no see, Kinney,” he tells me.

“Bright. It has been a very long time. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“A bit of… I guess you could say rehabilitation work, but some idiots are harder to crack than cement. But I’m working on it.”

“But that’s not the real reason you are here, is it?”

“No. However, I have been sent to get you before your meeting with your little friend…”

“He’s no friend of mine!”

“Which we have been trying to tell you for years, Kinney. But then again, you always were a hard learner. But look, let me take you to my boss before the cameras go back up and my fellow prisoners return to their cells for afternoon checks.”

We walk up three flights of stairs, and I’m reminded that I haven’t been to the gym lately. It’s not that I’m out of shape. I certainly can’t be with my own little personal energizer bunny around, but it’s that my normal routines have been upset for months. It’s funny that I didn’t even really notice up until this point. Between business needs and being a full-time lover and dad, there were just other things which have taken precedence.

“Here we are. Now, the Warden is usually mild-mannered but has some pretty unorthodox ways of torturing us. So do me a favor, don’t piss her off!”

“Her?”

“Yeah. And you can imagine how well that goes down with some inmates around here. But if she can’t beat ya, she won’t hesitate to put a bullet in ya. Makes for a very orderly ship around here.”

I cringe. I can’t help it. It gives me pause of what type of woman could run a men’s prison without batting an eyelash or breaking a nail. “She must be one of those eternally single women.”

“Oh, on the contrary, Mr. Kinney. My husband just happens to be very, VERY happy. He also just happens to be an Ironman, so no dainty female would do for him. Rachel Talberti,” she says, as she extends a very well-manicured hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Wait! Talberti? As in Pro-Bowl football linebacker Ralph Talberti?”

“One and the same. You follow the sport?"

"No. But my father did before he died some years ago."

"Ralph and I work out together. Well, that was before I left my wrestling career and decided that being a cop was more rewarding. I still go toe-to-toe with him doing circuit training when my schedule permits.”

“She was Fire and Ice, before she retired from the pro-wrestling circuit,” Bright tells me.

I remember my father watching wrestling on Saturday afternoons down at the VFW for many years. No way Joan would let him watch such a barbaric sport in her home. “I have to say, it’s a pleasure to meet such a legend.”

“Likewise, Brian, and please call me Rachel. Bright and I are old friends, so we don’t stand on formality within these walls.” She smiles. “So I guess you’re wondering why I requested to see you before your visit with Novotny.”

“I am,” I confirm. “In all honesty, I wasn’t expecting my request to see him be granted this soon.”

“It had to be since the trial date- or should I say his first trial date- is being moved up within a week. So that means you won't have to appear for a few more since they are going to do the pretrial and jury selection, then let him stew for two weeks, and recover themselves before the actual trial begins. He's made quite the impression."

"I'll bet. Entitled. Demanding. Spoiled. Self-absorbed. I could go on, but none of us have until next year without even a bathroom break to sit here."

"True indeed, and your point is well-taken. But the reason I brought you in here is that I need your express permission to tape your conversation with him.”

“You have it. But why?”

Bright clears his throat after receiving a nod from Rachel. “Remember that rehabilitation job I mentioned?” I nod. “Well, it’s on Novotny. Someone higher up than us wants a full confession before he enters a courtroom. Now the whys and wherefores are not our places to ask; only to get the job done.”

“And did you get it?” I ask because I know the line of work Henry Bright usually does as an enforcer. This is a bit different.

“You bet your virgin ass, I did…”

I smirk at him. “Don’t you mean, not-so-virgin?”

“No. I meant what I said unless…” He looks at me closely, before guffawing with laughter. “No way! That hot little blond must carry a magic wand or his ass is laden with fairy dust or some shit!”

“A little of both, but I’m telling you both first for a very specific reason.”

“And that is?”

“To Michael, my image is everything…”

“But not to you?” Rachel asks me.

“It used to be. But then I met Justin and little by little that changed. After the whole Stockwell indictment and subsequent near-poverty, it just didn’t seem to matter anymore. In fact, Justin and I signed LDP papers, so the last name is actually Taylor-Kinney now.”

“My sincerest congratulations, Brian. We all on the Avenue have been wondering when you and Justin were going to make it official,” Bright says, and then frowns. “And it explains so much!”

“What?”

“Novotny has been increasingly, for want of a better term, delusional these past many weeks. Twice, he’s ended up in solitary confinement and that’s just in the last week alone. He’s also been in the infirmary due to injuries incurred when he flew off the handle at Bubba, another inmate here. His behavior is becoming increasingly erratic,” Rachel tells me.

“He’s playing you,” I respond, and at their puzzled looks I continue. “Michael Novotny is far from mentally ill. Even though if his actions are anything to go by one might assume he was, I can tell you from personal experience, that Michael is great at playacting.”

“What makes you so sure in this case?” I can tell that it wasn’t a facetiously asked question but genuine curiosity.

“Other than the fact that I’ve known him since we were fourteen, I also know that Michael would do anything- and I mean ANYTHING- to keep himself out of trouble. This time, no one is coming to his rescue so, in his mind, he has to do it himself. Trust me! There is nothing wrong with the fucker except his expectations that I would rescue him again have been dashed.”

“So what do you propose we do about it?” Bright asks me, and I just smile.

“Watch what happens when I tell Michael that Justin has topped the Ultimate Top. Not only will you get the full truth of things through him ranting, but have a nurse or doctor there with a needle full of water, but make him think it’s a sedative, and I guarantee you he’ll snap out of his falsified psychosis real quick. The only thing Michael hates worse than Justin and losing, is needles.”

I’m taken back down to the conference room with the two-way mirror. I use it to straighten out my tie and fix my hair to the freshly-fucked coif Michael always looks for. I don’t doubt that upon entering the room, he’ll probably piss himself, or try to sniff me to see if I’ve been fucking. Hey don’t laugh; it’s happened before. Many, MANY times! It’s almost like he needed to reassure himself that I’m still Brian Fucking Kinney as he always thought of me, instead of Justin’s partner. The sad thing is that Pre-Ethan, I let him because I was still scared of the bone-deep changes happening within myself because of Justin. But now, Michael and his opinion of me in any form can suck my dick… no, he’d like that so he can kiss my ass… NO! He’d get off on that, too! They can take a hike? Yeah, that’ll work, because the lazy bastard never did like exercise or work of any kind.

As the door opens, I brace myself for the whine I know is coming. I’m so glad to know that he will be led in with handcuffs on a chain so that he can’t touch me. If he could, I know good and hell well that I would end up in a cell of my own. He’s lucky that Justin delivered that punch when he said Justin should have been left in the garage, otherwise, I certainly would have been in here for murder.

“BRIAN! Oh, thank God! You’ve finally come to see me!” Michael exclaims, and as predicted, he’s sniffing the air and checking me out from head-to-toe. “So who’s the lucky guy? One of the inmates or the officers? I know how you’ve always loved your prison porn!”

I swear if he was a puppy, he’d be pissing himself right now, so great is his excitement over something that hasn’t happened. The fact that he’s wiggling in his seat tells me that he’s probably about to do so at any moment. “Do you have to go to the bathroom or something?”

“No, I’m just so excited to see you! What took you so long to get here? And when the fuck am I getting out of here? You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve been going through!”

“Michael,” I sigh. “First, you’re not getting out of here…”

“WHAT?!! I thought I told you to tell that fucking brain-damaged twink to drop the charges!”

“You did. And the answer is still NO! Michael, you have to know that what you did was fucked up on so many levels. Justin was struggling…”

“Big fucking deal! He could have asked his parents for anything he needed. Hell, Craig even offered to pay for him to go to school, as long as he went to Dartfuck, Mouthford, or whatever the fuck the name of the school is!”

“It’s Dartmouth College, Michael. And what I’d like to know is who told you that?”

“You did.” Lying little fuck!

“No, I didn’t. Justin and I never discussed the possibility of that happening, except within the confines of the loft or at the bar of Babylon, and even that was only once.”

“Well that must have been where I heard it then,” he mutters.

“Wrong again, you weren't there. In fact, it was the night of your first date with Dr. Dumbfuck, but let’s move on for a moment. Tell me about the cameras.”

“Cameras?” he repeats wide-eyed. Yeah, I’m not falling for that look.

“Yes, Michael. The cameras that were tapped into by your buddy Lance, before my place was robbed. What do you know about them?”

“I don’t. Don’t you think I would have said something if I did?”

“No, you wouldn’t have, because then your own fun would have been ruined. Let me tell you something, Michael, and you may or may not get it, but are you listening?”

“Yes, Brian. I want to hear what you have to say, especially if it involves me getting out of here. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“You aren’t crazy, Michael; not by a long shot. Furthermore, you don’t know me, but I damn sure know you.”

“What are you talking about, Brian? I’m your best friend and have been since we were fourteen. Of course, I know who you are!”

“And just who is it that you think I am, Michael?”

“You’re Brian Fucking Kinney- the man who could fuck all night and still wow them at work the next day! And what’s with all this ‘Michael’ shit? That’s not my name where you’re concerned!”

“Well, what would you like me to call you? Because I can think of a few names, Michael.” I narrow my eyes at him, which he either doesn’t realize or is deliberately ignoring.

“I want you to call me Mikey, as you always have!”

“I’ll do that when Mikey as I thought he was, reappears, but for now the name your traitorous mother gave you will do just fine.”

“We didn’t betray you, Brian. We were just looking out for your best interests.”

“Really, and what was that?”

“To save you from yourself and that conniving little bastard twink. He was fooling and using you, Brian- something I’ve never done.”

“And you’re just in here for a Bridge game, right?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play stupid, Michael. It doesn’t become you.”

“What do you want from me?!”

“THE FUCKING TRUTH!” I yell at him. “For once, tell me the fucking truth! Where does Lindsay fit into all of this? What did Claire have over you for you to betray me like this? WHAT THE FUCK HAS MY HUSBAND EVER DONE TO YOU FOR YOU TO WISH HIM DEAD?!” I’m barely holding it together right now, but I hear Justin’s voice in my head as if he’s here in this room with me, reminding me that I have to calm down. I have to bring it back down to a level where he will say what the hell needs to be said. “I’m asking you, Michael, to give me the truth, not as you see it, but as it really is.”

He sighs that put-upon sound that I have absolutely come to loathe. “Claire found out that I was telling your dad things. Look, Brian, I did it with the best of intentions. I just didn’t want you to leave me, and since I couldn’t go with you… well, I thought telling him would make you stay put. But then Claire found out and she began blackmailing me and it kind of snowballed from there.”

I nod. “And Lindsay? When did she become part of this mix made in hell?”

“As you know, I didn’t meet her until you went to college, but somehow she just knew things about me and our childhood. I didn’t know who was giving her the information, I only knew it wasn’t you. So when she started basically stalking you…”

“Stalking me?”

“Yes. She would call me- how she got my number is still a mystery- she would ask me if I knew what your schedule was like for this week or the next week, or some other week. Then she would demand that I’d find out, or she would spill the secrets she knew that you didn’t want anyone to know. In retrospect, I think it was Lance. I know that she knew him while we were in high school, even though we didn’t go to the same one.”

“Oh? And just how do you know that?”

“It was just the way they greeted each other when they first met. I was there, but I didn’t think anything about it at the time…”

“Or any other time…," I say.

“...but Lindsay knew enough about him to ask after his family.”

“So Craig Taylor? Where does he fit in? Or more accurately, when exactly did you meet him? Because I know it had to have been before Justin was officially around.”

“Brian, why all the questions? I thought we could talk about you hiring me a lawyer to get me out of here. They’ve frozen all my assets…”

“Don’t you mean mine and Justin’s assets?”

“Justin? What the fuck does he have to do with this?!” he asks venomously.

“Oh, nothing much except that not only are you in here on conspiracy charges, but embezzlement of the Rage profits, fraud, collusion, and a few more crimes which also involve my husband.”

“STOP SAYING THAT! HE’S NOT YOUR HUSBAND! I AM!”

“Going for the delusional angle, are you Michael? Well, I can attest that Justin most certainly IS mine. Forever and always. In fact, he’s so MINE that my now well-fucked ass truly belongs to him in all the ways that means, including physically…”

“Stop it!” He whines, trying to cover his ears, only realizing that he can’t because of the handcuffs.

“I’ve given it to him! Lock, Stock, and Prostate! And let me tell you, Michael, he just may even have surpassed the Master…”

He jumps up from his seat, causing the chair to create a loud BANG as it hits the ground. “YOU STOP THIS FUCKING SHIT! YOU STOP THIS FUCKING SHIT RIGHT NOW, BRIAN! STOP LYING TO ME!”

“When have I ever lied to you, Michael?”

“YOU LOVE ME! NOT THAT FUCKING BRAIN-DAMAGED PIECE OF SHIT! OH GOD, HOW I WISH LINDSAY’S PLAN TO GET HIM BASHED HAD COME TRUE!”

“What did you just say?!” My heart feels like it’s about to jump out of my chest.

“LINDSAY AND HIS FUCKING FATHER WERE RIGHT! THE ONLY WAY I WAS GOING TO HAVE YOU WAS IF JUSTIN WAS FUCKING DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! AND HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN! CHRIS HOBBS SHOULD HAVE DONE HIS FUCKING JOB! THAT FUCKING PUNK OWES CRAIG FIFTEEN THOUSAND OF THE MONEY FROM JUSTIN’S TRUST ACCOUNT HE USED! YOU’RE NOT MARRIED TO HIM! YOU’RE MINE, BRIAN! I WAITED OVER HALF OUR LIVES FOR YOU! YOU WILL NOT DO THIS TO ME!”

As I stand there listening to the last missing piece of the puzzle, I’m hoping like hell that they have the rest of his confession somewhere. Because if I have to say anything else to the fucker, it’s going to be while I’m choking the fucking life out of him!

AND FUCKING LANCE! HE HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, AND THAT WAS TO MAKE SURE THE MONEY TRANSFERS RAN SMOOTHLY BETWEEN HERE AND CALIFORNIA! THAT’S WHERE YOU AND I WERE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER, BRIAN! YOU, ME, CALIFORNIA, AND MARRIED! NO! YOU ARE NOT MARRIED TO THAT FUCKING TWINK! YOU ARE MINE! I WAITED FOR YOU! YOU ARE MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE! BUT NO! LANCE HAD TO GO ALL FUCKING NOBLE! WELL I’M TIRED OF ALL MY PLANS TURNING FROM SUGAR TO SHIT!”

“Michael, calm down!”

“CALM?! THIS IS ME CALM!”

I continue speaking. I have to show them that all is not what it seems with him. And here is my ace in the hole. “The fact is that Justin and I ARE married and have been monogamous for the last several months and there’s NOTHING you can do about it!”

“YES THERE FUCKING IS! I NEED TO MAKE A CALL TO RON! HE’LL TAKE CARE OF THAT FUCKING BLOND FOR ME! HE OWES ME! HE WOULDN’T HAVE THE INFORMATION HE NEEDED ON STOCKWELL, OR VANCE, WITHOUT ME! HE WOULDN’T HAVE THE INFORMATION ABOUT YOU AND FUCKING JUSTIN WITHOUT ME! HE WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO STICK IT TO CRAIG WITHOUT ME! UGH! I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM! I HATE THAT FUCKER! I WISHED HE WAS FUCKING DEAD AND THEN I WOULD HAVE YOU! UGH!! I WANT THESE FUCKING CUFFS OFF NOWWWWW!!!”

As he continues to rant, the guard, along with the nurse, comes in. I swear the woman looks like fucking Nurse Ratchet! And the needle she’s carrying looks extra fucking big even to me.

“Mr. Novotny, I’m going to tell you this one fucking time. Calm your ass DOWN!”

“You’re not coming at me with that fucking thing!” Amazingly, his voice lowers back down to his normal pitch of Whiny Bitch.

“Keep on with the Evil Mickey Mouse routine and I swear I’ll jab this thing in your ass cheek so hard you’ll be tasting metal until you’re fifty! Now calm the fuck down!”

“Okay, okay! I’m calm! I want to go back to my cell now!”

She smiles. “Oh? So this time you remember where you are? I would think with that level of rage, you would have passed out and forgotten everything that happened in your psychotic break, like the last time.”

“I...I….”

“Yeah, you, YOU! Try a new trick, Novotny. I’ve been in this profession for a long time and know a genuine illness when I see one. But try that shit again, and you really will feel the business end of my needle. We clear?”

He nods silently, even as the guard grabs hold of the loose chain at the end of his handcuffs. “Oh, by the way, Michael. Thanks.”

“For what, Brian?” he says, despondently. I would imagine he’s seeing any dream he had of getting out of here thoroughly doused.

“Your complete confession. I’m sure the Warden and District Attorney trying your case will find it especially useful. Have a nice life!”

He looks back at me with wide eyes, as I hold his gaze steady with my own. There were only so many times he was going to get away with hurting Justin in any capacity. He’s used them all, and I think he just realized that.