Chapter 14 - Toil and Trouble.

Michael was getting tired of being ignored whenever he called Brian. 

His best friend had been blowing him off more and more frequently of late and it was really pissing him off. The way Brian kept hammering home the point that he had better things to do than hang out with his oldest friend kind of hurt. He didn’t need to always rub it in how much richer and more important he was. Michael got it - Brian had Kinnetik and, occasionally, Gus - but whatever. It’s not like Michael didn’t have responsibilities too. He had his comic book store, Ben and Hunter, Ma, but he still managed to find time for his friends. Brian was being an asshole if he refused to do the same for Michael. 

Take the night before, for instance. When Michael had called to see if Brian wanted to go out, he’d used the fact that Gus was coming over to back out. Again. Which, Michael wasn’t even sure he believed - hadn’t Gus just spent the prior weekend with Brian - but even if it was true, couldn’t he hire a fucking babysitter or something? The Brian Kinney he’d grown up with would never, not in a million fucking years, give up a night of fucking and sucking at Babylon to stay home with a five year old. Oh, how the mighty had fallen, right?

And why the hell couldn’t that foreign skank stay home with the kid in Brian’s place? When Michael had suggested as much, Brian had practically bitten his head off. The fucking freeloader didn’t have anything better to do with his time. Brian was letting the guy stay at his house for free; the least Youstin could do was watch Gus for a night so Brian could have a few hours off baby duty. But, no. Brian had insisted that he couldn’t leave Gus alone with only the kid to watch him. So Michael had been stuck at home watching ‘The Justice League’ for the tenth time while Ben helped Hunter with his algebra. Not exactly a thrilling Thursday night. 

Michael was also tired of the fucking blond being attached to his best friend like a barnacle whenever they had gone out. He’d barely gotten to say ten words to Brian on Wednesday night because the stupid blond never let him get within ten feet of his best friend. So, yeah, he’d probably said some snarky shit to the blond; the guy was fucking annoying as hell. It didn’t matter that Brian had every right to be pissed at him for the comments he’d made about the blond. In Michael's mind he had every right to say whatever he wanted because Brian belonged to HIM. But, whatever the reason, this thing with Brian ignoring him had gotten a lot worse since that Youstin had shown up.

Now, though, it was Friday night and he wanted to go out with Brian. He wasn’t going to take another polite blow off. Michael could count on one hand the number of times they’d missed a Friday night out over the years; there was no way Brian would be staying in again tonight. But, just to make sure Brian didn’t have time to manufacture yet another excuse, Michael decided that he would stop by the firehouse when he got off work and drag the man out, kicking and screaming if he had to. It was high time to get Brian away from the blond interloper for a night. The fucking foreigner could find his own entertainment.

Brian had given the whole gang the access codes to his new place - just in case any of them had to cart his drunk ass home after a night out on the town - so Michael planned to just let himself in and wait for Brian. He’d done that several times before, helping himself to Brian’s bar while making use of the amazing home theater system. It was as good a place as any to cool his heels while he waited for the work-a-holic to finally drag himself out of the office. And that way Brian wouldn’t be able to escape Michael’s plans because he’d be lying there in waiting. 

So, after closing the shop for the night, Michael changed into his ‘clubbing clothes’ - one of his comic tee shirts and faded jeans - and headed for the firehouse. He peeked through the garage window and saw Brian’s jeep parked inside, so he knew the man was home. Which was odd, because Brian almost never left work early, even on a Friday afternoon. But, whatever. It just meant that they’d have more time to hang out together, which was okay with Michael. 

Instead of ringing the bell or knocking, the way a guest should, Michael just punched in the door codes and walked into the entertainment room as if it was his own place. He wasn’t a guest; he’d known Brian for more than half his life and they’d never stood on formalities with each other. But, this time, maybe he should have knocked. Because, instead of needing to go upstairs to find Brian, Michael received quite a shock from the sight that met him when he opened the door between the front hall and the den. 

Brian and the kid were sitting on one of the big, overstuffed theater-style chairs right in the middle of the room. The skank was straddling his best friend’s lap and they were going at each other’s mouths like kissing was going out of style or something. Both men were naked, at least from the waist up, and were wrapped around each other like ivy on a brick tower. From what he could see - with his line of sight partially blocked by another chair back that was in his way, and judging by the way Youstin’s body was writhing around - it looked to Michael like they were fucking. Right there in the middle of the room. 

For several minutes Michael felt frozen in place. He didn’t know if they realized he was there. He just stared at the sight, his stomach curdling the longer he watched. It was like watching a train wreck, you just couldn’t look away no matter how sickening it was. But the longer he watched, the angrier he got, until he felt like a simmering tower of rage.

In his mind he was screaming, ‘What the fuck!’ but the words stuck in his throat and all that came out was a strangled grunt before he turned around and walked out the same way he’d come in. 

He was both in shock and furious at the same time. What the hell was going on? It was one thing for Brian to offer to let someone his client sent stay with him for a few nights, especially if the guy didn’t speak English. Michael could kinda understand that, even if he didn’t like it much. And, the other night at Babylon when Brian had dragged the kid to the back room to suck him off, well, that was pretty much routine for a night out with Brian. It didn’t mean anything. But what he’d just seen was something altogether different. 

First of all, Brian had a STRICT ‘No Repeats’ rule; he’d already had the kid back at Babylon, so that should have been it, right? Secondly, Brian never let any TRICK stay over, especially at his new place. He’d repeatedly told everyone who would listen that, now that he’d moved up from the ‘fuck pad’ of his youth, he wasn’t going to be turning his new house into just a more elaborate version of the same. He’d even refused to let Michael and the guys stay over, kicking them out at four am one night after they’d stayed up late watching movies and drinking. Brian had said that it wasn’t a flop house and they could either get the fuck out when he said or never be invited back again. So they’d left. But, apparently, none of those rules applied to the blond fucking interloper who seemed like he’d moved in already. 

Brian wasn’t actually going to keep his ‘bride’ like some live-in fuck-buddy or something, was he?

Michael was still stomping down the street when he was several blocks away from the firehouse and his fury was only getting more intense the longer he thought about what he’d just seen. What right did that fucking foreigner have to be wrapped around Brian that way? Couldn’t Brian see that the kid was just taking advantage of him? Who the fuck was this ‘Youstin’ anyway? Did Brian know anything about him at all?

Well, Michael certainly wasn’t going to let the little leech get away with it. If Brian wasn’t going to kick the kid to the curb, like he should have on day one, Michael would have to figure out a way to do it for him. He was going to get the rest of the gang together and together they would put a stop to this. 

He was so furious that he didn’t even take the bus to Liberty Avenue; he practically stomped all the way there. When he got to the diner he was still so pissed that he didn’t know what to do with himself. The place was almost empty and none of the gang had arrived yet, so he didn’t have anyone to vent all his anger to. Instead, he sat at their regular booth and tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. 

Kiki came over a minute or so later, bringing him a soda, and took the seat across from him. “You okay, Michael, Honey? You look like you want to tear off someone’s head,” the waitress commented. 

“I would love to,” he snapped. “That fucking kid that Brian’s client sent him is trying to take over his life. They’re over at Brian’s, fucking away, as we speak.” 

Kiki’s interest perked up when he mentioned the part abut fucking. She was a sucker for juicy gossip, just like any other queen. To his annoyance, though, Kiki didn’t seem even a little bit interested in hearing his complaints about Youstin; she just kept asking about the fucking. Michael didn’t think she quite understood the import of the situation. He tried to explain but before he could get very far a bunch of customers came in and distracted the waitress. 

“Sorry, Michael, I have to see what they want,” Kiki told him as she stood, seemingly glad of the excuse to leave, and trotted over to take the newcomers’ orders. 

Michael scowled at Kiki’s back. Why was it that nobody but him could see how serious this was? Brian wasn’t acting like himself lately and this thing with the foreigner was the icing on the cake. They needed to do an intervention or something. Shock Brian back into being the Stud they expected him to be. He texted Emmett to find out what the hold up was and ordered him to hurry. He needed some back up and a friend who was going to take this threat as seriously as he did.

While Michael was angry texting, he noticed out of the corner of his eye when the woman sitting in the next booth over - the one wearing the business suit who looked completely out of place in the Liberty Diner - got up and walked towards him. He looked up from his phone and gave her a once over, trying to figure out from her appearance what she was doing there. He didn’t recognize her, even though Liberty Avenue was a pretty tight-knit community, so she must not be a regular. 

This woman was rather tall and was wearing heels that gave her an additional two or three inches, which meant she towered over Michael where he was seated. She was a little on the plump side, not that it made a difference to Michael. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun with one of those fabric hair ties. She was smiling, but her eyes were a dull, humorless gray-blue that made you realize the smile was empty. There were lines of worry around her eyes and the corners of her mouth, making the woman look older than she probably was. She didn’t look like a happy or a kind woman. She looked like the kind of perpetually busy person who didn’t have time to be happy. Michael felt a little intimidated by the fact that she was approaching him and didn’t like her inquisitive expression.  

Slipping into the seat across the booth from Michael without bothering to wait for an invitation she said, “excuse me, Sir. I couldn’t help but overhear you talking with your friend earlier. Were you speaking of Brian Kinney?” 

“Who are you and what the fuck business is it of yours who I’m talking about?” Michael snapped at the well-dressed woman. 

“Forgive me, Sir. I should introduce myself; my name is Beckestany, but everyone just calls me ‘Beks’.” 

She held out her hand to him and Michael accepted it, noting that the woman, for all her elegant manners, chewed her nails. 

“Michael. Michael Novotny.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Novotny.” She gave him that empty smile again before continuing, “I work for a man by the name of Aleksi Kasmar. I’m his liaison here in the United States. And, if we’re talking about the same Brian Kinney - the one who owns Kinnetik Advertising -  then I think I might be able to help you. I believe you were discussing a young man who’d recently arrived from Croatia? Is that correct?”

“Maybe,” Michael answered, still unsure how much to tell this stranger.

“Well, if so, I’m afraid your friend, Brian, could be in danger,” she announced smoothly, her smile getting wider in direct proportion to the look of alarm on Michael’s face. “You see, my client has been trying to find that same young man.”

“You’re looking for Youstin? Why would you want to find him?”

“If we’re talking about the same person, his real name is Justin Taylor - not ‘Youstin’ - and he’s not Croatian. He’s an American. He was also, most assuredly, NOT sent by my employer,” the strange woman informed Michael. 

“I’m sorry but what is this all about?” Michael questioned, curious but still a little wary of some stranger who’d just come up to him out of the blue and who was asking about Brian.

The cool-as-a-cucumber woman didn’t seem fazed for even a moment. “As I said, I’m working for Mr. Kacmar. He’s a client of Kinnetik’s and he hired me to look into the whereabouts of Mr. Taylor, who we believe is here in Pittsburgh under false pretenses, perhaps with the intent to undermine Mr. Kacmar’s American business dealings. And, with your help, we may be able to save your friend, Brian, from getting further involved with this . . . person.” 

That sounded bad. Really bad. Michael didn’t want Brian to be involved with anyone that might put him in danger, so he answered immediately, “Tell me what’s going on and what I need to do to protect Brian from that guy. Brian is my best friend. Whatever it takes to make sure Brian doesn't get in trouble, I’ll do it. In fact, maybe I should just call Brian right now,” he told the stranger, pulling out his phone. 

“No. Don’t call him. If Taylor is there with Mr. Kinney right now, and you call him, it might tip the guy off and put your friend in even more danger. We need to be careful how we handle this situation,” the woman advised Michael. 

Okay, this Beks woman had Michael’s total attention now. He’d known that ‘Youstin’ was a problem from the minute he’d seen the young blond, but even he hadn’t thought that Brian might be in actual ‘danger’ because of the guy. From the sound of it, though, the kid was serious trouble. It was a good thing Michael had met Beks and found out in time to save Brian’s ass. Which is what a good friend would do, right? 

As he sat there, listening to Beks explaining about Taylor being a thief and grifter who had apparently been working his way across Europe as he took advantage of one rich young mark after another, he got even more worried. Brian had no clue what he’d gotten himself into this time. In his mind, though, Michael was already envisioning how he would come to Brian’s rescue. He thought that, if he could ‘save’ Brian, then maybe his friend might finally see him in a different light. If he was the one protecting Brian, instead of the other way around for a change, Brian might admit to himself just how much Michael loved and cared about him. If things went the way he imagined, he might even end up in the same position he’d seen the ‘dangerous blond’ in earlier at Brian’s. Which is exactly where Michael had always wanted to be. And then he would also be rid of the kid. It would be a win-win situation for everyone. Well, everyone except the fucking freeloader skank.

So Michael proceeded to tell the stranger everything he knew about Brian’s ‘guest’, and about Brian himself, answering Beks’ questions for most of the rest of the night, and of course putting his own spin on things.

‘I think I might have found your Justin Taylor’, Beks typed into her phone. 

Then she stopped and stared at the unsigned text message. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to send that text just yet. She didn’t want to promise something she wasn’t sure of. When it came to Kacmar and his ilk, it was always better to underpromise and over-perform. And just because the info she’d got from Novotny sounded solid, it didn’t mean he’d follow through. He seemed like a flake to her. It would probably be better to wait until she had something concrete before relaying anything to Aleksi.

Tapping at the delete key, she carefully erased the text and set her phone aside. Opening her laptop, she started a blank document and began to type out her notes from her meeting at the Liberty Diner. It had been quite an eye-opening discussion. It was ridiculously easy to get information out of Novotny. In those couple of hours she’d learned pretty much everything anyone would ever want to know about Brian Kinney. She would be forever thankful that she didn’t have a ‘best friend’ who had such a loose tongue. Poor Kinney. With a ‘friend’ like that in your corner, you’d never have any privacy.

As she typed, she thought about all the intimate details Michael Novotny had let slip about the target of her investigations. There was a lot there that wasn’t public knowledge. Like the fact that he had a son with a lesbian couple, one of whom he’d been friends with since college. That had surprised her since, on paper at least, Kinney didn’t seem the fatherly type. His public image was so brash and unapologetic. So ‘in your face’. But, based on everything she’d heard tonight, Kinney was a lot more vulnerable than he would ever let on to the world at large. 

Sitting back in her chair, Beks read over the paragraph she’d just written and frowned at her computer. There was a lot there that someone like Kacmar could use against Kinney. Family ties and children left you exposed. Those were the kinds of openings an unethical person could exploit. 

A person like Aleksi Kacmar.

Beks stared at her fucking computer screen for almost a half hour, reading the words she’d written over and over again, thinking about what it would mean for Kinney if that information got into the wrong hands. She thought about her own son. Noah was only a few years older than the child Novotny had told her about. She didn’t see him often, since the boy lived with her ex and her work kept her too busy to be a full-time mother, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care for him. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t do anything in her power to protect him. And, if he was threatened, she knew she would capitulate to whatever was asked of her in order to keep him safe. 

Beks didn’t know Brian Kinney. When she’d taken this assignment she hadn’t thought twice about the man Kacmar wanted her to investigate. She’d thought it was about a business deal; just money and power. She had no problem researching a businessman for a potential rival. That was all just part of doing business, right? But this was completely different. If she gave Kacmar this, the whole game would change. 

“Fuck it,” she murmured as she highlighted the paragraph and then intentionally pushed the ‘Delete’ key. “I’m not going there. I don’t care who the fuck Aleksi Kacmar is or what influence he has. I’m not that person.”

She’d give him all the other stuff. There was a ton of other information that Novotny had babbled on about. The names of Kinney’s other clients. The stuff he’d told her about Kinney’s finances. Where he liked to hang out. Even the embarrassing stuff about his sex life; from what little she’d already learned about Kinney, she didn’t think he’d give a fuck who knew about the trainload of guys he routinely fucked. Kacmar could have all of that. Maybe he’d be able to make use of it, and maybe not. Her conscience wouldn’t bother her for giving him that shit. 

Nobody needed to know about the kid.

When she’d finished typing up all her notes, she saved the document, got up from her desk, and turned off the lamp. Novotny had said he’d call her when he knew when and where Kinney and Taylor would be next. She’d wait to finish her report until after that encounter. That should be plenty good enough for Kacmar. She’d done enough for one day. 

It was still early enough that, if she left now, she’d have time to stop off and see Noah.