Carl looked uncertainly from father to son, readily discerning something was very off with them. He wasn't the least bit interested in family squabbles... that was, unless it pertained to the case against Justin Taylor. The facts of that night were all that mattered to him now. "Mr. Hobbs..." Carl began, moving closer to the bed, he lowered his voice hoping to place the young man at ease, yet display the authority his position represented. "I will be as brief as possible."

"Now isn't the time, Horvath. I need to speak to my son - privately..." His eyes were sharp on his son, suddenly his confidence in his son's loyalty wavering. "He is clearly not himself and not prepared to answer your questions..."

Chris twisted his lips into a semblance of a snarl. Daddy was scared... and well he should be. His father had gone too far this time. He had endured his abuse for years. The savage beating he'd taken at his father's hands had been worse than any other. He vowed there wouldn't be another. This really wasn't a sudden realization, though... but one that had been magnified as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He had thought about this often over the past year and had feared a moment like this could develop. Had he realized how intense it would be - he would have taken action long ago. "No... it's fine. I'd rather get this done."

His pallor quickly diminishing at the coldness in his son's eyes... but more troubling - his lack of fear, he knew he needed to reel the boy back in quickly. "Son, I realize you want to help bring that deranged faggot to justice, but your mind isn't right at the moment. You need to give it some time."

Deranged faggot, Chris thought to himself. So... that was his father's game. He was throwing Justin Taylor to the wolves for his own unconscionable crime. It was ironic really. Taylor was too weak... entirely too spineless to beat him down so effectively. Had that been the case, he could have wrestled the bat away from the faggot and turned the tables on him quickly. Anyone who knew Justin would realize this wasn't possible. Now, he had to decide how he wanted to play this. He could place the final knife in Justin's back, although doing that would save his father's skin. He didn't want to do that, either. Right now, it became a choice of deciding which road he wanted to travel.

"Mr. Hobbs..." Carl began, his face reddened in anger, his temper barely remaining under control. "I will advise you for the final time - I need your silence here. I am conducting an official police investigation. You cannot be making such slanderous remarks while I am obtaining your son's statement. It would be best if you left the room."

If he wasn't in such pain, Chris would smile at his father's obvious look of distress. As it was, he felt good that his father remained ill at ease. He didn't intend on easing his mind on that. "I think I already said I wanted you out - Dad. We have nothing left to discuss..."

"You heard your son..." Carl bit out at the older Hobbs. He didn't like how this initial meeting was going - already. Subtly, Chris Hobbs, Sr. seemed to be placing ideas in his son's head. It was a conflict for his investigation... and his gut told him, a tactic to prevent full disclosure of the truth. He was a complete professional in his duties. The fact that Debbie, the lady he was seriously dating, had connections to the Taylor boy meant nothing to him. From his few meetings with the boy, he did find the idea preposterous that the boy would enact such a crime. However, the most innocent looking often resulted in being guilty. He didn't believe that to be the case with Justin Taylor; however, he did have an open mind. His judgment would be reserved until all the facts were presented.

Chris wished he felt better. At this moment, he'd love to laugh at his father's discomfort. The slightest movement he made in the bed more than reminded him of his still very frail state. That pleasure would wait for another time. Now... he had moments to decide how he would handle both his father and the aggravating Justin Taylor. One thing was for certain - he wasn't finished with either of them.

"Fine..." the grumble finally tumbled free. "I'll be right outside... and I'll be back once your meeting is finished." He gave his son a reproachful look that spoke in volumes what he expected him to do. His confidence in his son's loyalty had been shaken, but he didn't worry about him turning him over to the police. After all... he was a Hobbs. Chris would honor their family name. As he slowly moved to the door, he cast a wary look backwards, unsettled by the malice on his son's face. At the moment, all he could do was hope that Chris remembered he was still his son... and all that represented.

"So... now that we're alone, I'd like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Hobbs. It isn't my intention to take up much of your time. I do understand you have a great deal of recuperation to endure yet." Carl flipped open his notepad, hopeful that notes would be necessary... and that he wouldn't now encounter a close-mouthed witness. "Tell me what happened two nights ago next to your pool. In particular - who swung the bat that incapacitated you?"

Chris sneered, even through the pain. This was fucked up. He could tell the truth and have revenge on his father for years of abuse, but where did that get him? Out on the street with no prospects, his college funding undoubtedly cut off - that was his reality if he told the truth. In addition, it would help Justin. Helping Taylor was the last thing he wanted to do. So many emotions rose to the surface when he thought of Justin Taylor - being his savior didn't factor into that equation. In being honest with himself, Chris realized he enjoyed the thought of Justin fearing for his life and future... specifically that he was the source of it. "I'm sure my father gave you a statement, officer. The events are still a bit hazy to me."

Carl wasn't buying that for an instant. "Really, Mr. Hobbs? I don't recall your injuries involving head trauma; I have a feeling you have a full recollection of those events."

A blank stare on his face, Chris asked, "Well... what did my father tell you?"

"I'm not interested in that right now. However, I am interested in your view of the events. Let's start with the altercation between you and Justin Taylor. How did it start... and more importantly - how did it end?"

Chris grunted, his sudden movement causing him to flinch in pain. "Not exactly as I'd planned..."

His notepad flipped open, a pen in hand, Carl looked at the young man patiently... although inwardly he felt anything but that. He wanted to see a resolution to this case. In all honesty, he wanted it to be one that would vindicate the Taylor boy. He was totally unbiased in his work... ethics were of prime importance to him. The fact that Debbie professed Justin's innocence only slightly swayed him. What stuck out in his mind the most was his gut feeling that Justin was innocent. He only hoped he could uncover the proof that would make justice prevail. "Meaning?"

He remembered his little interlude with Justin... one that could have had very different results - if his father hadn't found them. He could still see the disgust in his father's eyes. Perhaps he had needed that beat down to bring him to his senses. But it hadn't. He knew if Justin were in this room with him now, he would use his fear against him. He wasn't a fucking queer. It was all about Justin... that had always been the problem. His lust for Justin clawed at him, and he hated him for it. Maybe if Justin was sent away - out of both sight and mind, he could lose these sickening desires. "We had a disagreement. Things escalated... then, I woke up here."

Carl looked into cold, yet clearly pained eyes. He knew he should feel some degree of remorse for pushing the young man so soon after awakening, but he found himself mostly unconcerned of that. Experience had taught him that this was the time a victim was often most forthcoming. If he didn't get the truth now - he might never get it; at least, not from the victim himself. He hadn't forgotten the strange exchange between father and son a short time ago, either. Something was very off. His every instinct told him that something very bad happened that night... and that it quite possibly wasn't all to do with Justin Taylor. Hearing the nurse clearing her throat impatiently from her position at the door, he realized his time was running short. "Son, I realize you went through quite an ordeal, but I'm trying to make certain this never happens again. Tell me who assaulted you..."

Chris suddenly found himself filled with uncertainty. He didn't know what to do. Telling the truth didn't mean shit to him. All that mattered was doing what was best for him. And right now, that appeared to be covering for his abusive father. Turning his father over to the police would only have him out on his ass, fending for himself. That alone wasn't in his best interest. He couldn't deny enjoying the thought of Justin on the run, looking over his shoulder at every oncoming car or police officer. What he wouldn't give to get his hands on that teasing little faggot. It was his hope that he still would. His eyes cold and merciless, Chris spat out, "It was Justin. He came on to me, and when I refused his disgusting advances, he beat me with the bat. My father saved my life."

A muscle twitched in Carl's jaw. It was the statement he had feared to hear... and one that he didn't believe for a single moment. "That's your final word?"

"It is. Now... shouldn't you be doing your fucking job and bringing my attacker to justice?"

"We are following all of the protocols, Mr. Hobbs." Carl pocketed his notepad, sadly accepting his story wasn't about to change anytime soon. He withdrew a card and laid it on the table next to Chris' bed. "This is my card with my direct extension. Should anything further occur to you... please give me a call."

His eyes were even colder as a plan came to mind... one that he knew to be one that would benefit him the most. "I'll keep that in mind." Chris watched as Horvath left the room, knowing his uneasy father wouldn't stay away for long. His father's anxiety had been clearly visible; however, it wasn't any parental concern for his wounded son. No... it had been far more selfish than that. His dear father had been concerned about his own skin... and well he should; finally, the tables had been turned, and he couldn't wait to watch his father jump through the hoops of his making. In the end, his father would realize he was deserving of the Hobbs name after all.

Brian groaned as he watched Emmett carrying the tray of fruity cocktails toward them. His discerning eye told him precisely what drink his meddlesome houseman had concocted. Arching a brow, Brian mockingly chided, "Contributing to the delinquency of a minor?"

Emmett cackled. "I have a feeling you will contribute to that even more."

His arm draped around the back of the couch, his fingers toying with Justin's silky-soft blond hair, Brian knew those words to be more than true. After twenty minutes of the most thorough make-out session that he could ever remember enjoying, he was more than ready for the main event. In fact, he had never been more ready than he was right now. "Perhaps so."

Justin eyed the two of them curiously, his hand dutifully reaching out for the drink that Emmett eagerly extended. Crinkling his nose, he asked, "What is it?"

Dubiously eyeing the fruity, yet foaming concoction, Brian inwardly shuddered, finding the cocktail one that didn't suit his particular tastes. However, cliché as it might be... and without a doubt it was, he would indulge Emmett. Such concessions always made him happy... and in this case, it wasn't much of a hardship. "It's commonly known as ‘sex on the beach' drink. The cream on the top is a bit of a bonus."

"It's called a blanket." Emmett winked at Justin in a conspiratorial fashion. "Not that I think you boys will have much need for one..."

Justin could feel the blush crawling down his neck; in fact, he wouldn't be surprised if it stretched far beyond. Apparently, Emmett was privy to everything that went on in his employer's life. "Thanks..." he whispered awkwardly, his blush deepening at the knowing glint in Brian's eyes.

"Well then, I'll just leave you boys to it." His eyes glanced out the window at the darkening sky, a warm feeling in his chest telling him this would be a good night for all of them. "I think I'll spend my own time on the beach... unless you need me for something else."

"No. I think you've done more than enough..." Brian teasingly scolded. "I'll need you in the morning, though. I need to go out, and I want Justin well looked after."

Frowning, Emmett tried to remember any appointments Brian might have. His mind was coming up blank, which was odd in itself. All of Brian's appointments went through him. Poised to ask, he stilled his tongue when he noticed the look of warning emitting from his employer and friend. Then, it occurred to him. It must have something to do with Justin, and the unfortunate mess the young man had found. One thing was certain - Brian would set things right. He almost felt sorry for those that had victimized Justin. Almost, but not quite. Justin was innocent of the charges that hounded him. He didn't even have to know him to realize that. "I'll just say goodnight, then." Emmett flounced away merrily when he noticed neither man was paying him the slightest bit of attention. They each had it bad for the other... and on such a short acquaintance. He couldn't wait to see how this all played out.

"Alone at last..." Brian murmured tongue-in-cheek. He took a tentative sip of the foaming drink, placing it down after one taste. He turned to look at Justin, laughing as he saw the cream clinging to Justin's upper lip. There wasn't a doubt he could remedy that. Not giving the blond a chance to know what he was doing, Brian moved closer, his tongue striking out to lick the remnants from Justin's mouth, smiling when Justin answered with a muffled gasp that quickly turned into a moan. "That's better..." Brian growled, his tongue taking far more swipes than necessary to remove every last drop of cream. "It tastes much better on you.... than in the beverage."

"I'm glad you think so," Justin answered. He took another sip, before following suit and placing his glass on the table. He wasn't accustomed to alcoholic beverages. Having a clear head tonight was much more important. "I guess this kind of drink isn't your style."

Brian shook his head. "Not at all. I'm more of a whiskey or bourbon man - straight up with nothing to chase it down." He winked at Justin teasingly. "It's the only way I do anything of a 'straight' nature."

Justin laughed. "Good to know. However, I don't think I want to be slowed down by an alcohol buzz tonight. I think you will be the only high I need..."

Growling, Brian's hand lowered to Justin's denim-clad legs, slowly moving it up and down, forcing himself not to go directly for the prize that had already started to bulge and show enthusiasm for what would soon be to come. "The things you say only make me want you more." His breathing was nearly ragged when he rasped, "I want to fuck you so bad I almost can't stand it..."

In the distance, he could hear Emmett humming happily, before the front door opened and closed, leaving them alone... and with so much to do. "It sounds as if we are truly alone now. I see no reason why you have to wait a minute longer."

"Let's go, then. I have blankets and everything we need in the hallway." Brian stood to his feet, his hand reaching out to pull Justin with him. He couldn't wait to have Justin naked, and writhing beneath him... their bodies glistening with sweat, as their combined heat drove them over the edge. Framing Justin's face in his hands, Brian kissed him slowly... deeply, his tongue rediscovering every nuance, his hardened body more than displaying exactly where he intended this to go next. "I am going to fucking devour you, Justin. Over and over again."

Justin immediately found himself ensnared by the lust and total need in Brian's eyes. He was so fucking beautiful. There would never be a man to rival this man's beauty - at least in his eyes. He couldn't wait to experience it all. "I want that too... except, I'd like to change our plans - if you don't mind."

Brian pulled away, fearful that Justin was having second thoughts. As much as he knew he wouldn't push him to change his mind - if that were the case - he hoped it wasn't. His body had been in a painful state of awareness all day. Not having Justin tonight wasn't something he wanted to endure. "Have you changed your mind?"

"No, not at all." Justin's response was fervent; he didn't want there to be a flicker of doubt discerned. "I just don't want my first time to be on the beach."

Arching a brow, Brian reminded, "You seemed quite keen on that earlier."

"I know. It was an exciting idea... and I'm sure I'll still want to do that at some point - just not tonight. We're safe in here and isolated from everyone that wants to hurt me. I want tonight to be all about us, and my first time; I don't want it to be me hearing every little sound - afraid it's someone here to take me back."

Brian nodded, his lips rolling under. "I can't say that it won't ever happen, although I think you're safe for now. I intend on finding a resolution for you quickly. You shouldn't have to live with this fear."

"Thank you, Brian. I owe you so much." Justin moved his hands to slide up and down Brian's chest, smiling when he felt the accelerated heartbeat beneath his hands. Brian really wanted him. He couldn't imagine anything being more meaningful than that. "Take me to bed, Stud. Show me what it means to be taken by you."

His nostrils flared as Justin's words once again had the desired effect. "I think you'd better be quiet until we get into the bedroom. Your words make my dick too fucking hard."

Brazenly, Justin's hand began stroking downward, his palm covering the bulge that threatened to burst through Brian's jeans. "Yeah, I can see that... or at the very least - feel it."

"Teasing little fucker..." Brian hissed, his patience all but gone now. When had virgins become so damned seductive - not to mention, blatant? He was going to fuck the boy into tomorrow, but he would play with him first. A long night awaited them, and he knew exactly how they would get started. Pulling him toward the staircase, Brian's tongue licked along Justin's neck, his teeth making light bites as he sucked the skin into his mouth. "I am going to fuck you so hard. In fact, you'll be lucky if we even make it to the bed."

"It doesn't matter," Justin whimpered as Brian's mouth continued to take possession of all the skin his mouth could reach. "No matter where - it will be hot and perfect." Justin never doubted his words for an instant. Brian Kinney was the definition of perfection to him. No matter what happened in the days ahead, tonight would be a memory to last a lifetime. He only hoped it would be the first of many more to come.

TBC