Chapter 22 - The Seeds of Guilt.
“Finally,” Ted accosted Brian and Justin as soon as they emerged from the bathroom. “You do realize, Bri, that the door to your bathroom isn’t completely soundproof, right?”
“Sorry, Theodore. It was an emergency,” Brian said, leering at a giggling Justin.
“Anyway. Charles Remsen is here, Bri, and he wants to talk to you. He isn’t happy at all about how Vanguard is handling the Remsen Pharmaceuticals campaign and he’s ripe for the plucking. So put on that famous Kinney charm and follow me,” Ted said, leading the way to the main reception area.
“Brian, you don’t have to drag me along do you?” Justin said, trying to free himself from Brian’s grip.
“Yes. I do. What if I have another cumberbund emergency, Sunshine. I don’t want to have to search all over for you if I need you again,” Brian teased quietly. “You’re with me the rest of the night. Just in case.”
“Brian. Thank you again for inviting us to this great event,” Charles Remsen, a forty-ish, slight man with greying hair said as soon as Brian came into sight.
“Charles. It’s been a long time. I hope you’re enjoying yourself tonight,” schmoozing Brian crooned.
“How could I not - this is amazing. But you were always amazing. Which is why we originally went with VanGuard. Now that you’re not there anymore, though, we aren’t quite as happy," Remsen said, getting right to the point.
“I’m sure we can do something for you, Charles, that you’d appreciate better. I’ll have Cynthia call you first thing Monday and we’ll set something up. How does that sound?” Brian insisted. “In the meantime, enough about business. We’re here to enjoy ourselves tonight.”
“That sounds great, Brian.”
“Charles, if I remember correctly, you’re quite the art collector on the side aren’t you?” Brian asked.
“Yes. Yes, I am. I’m surprised you remember that.” Remsen was flattered.
“Well, then this young man here is just the person you need to get to know. Charles Remsen, Justin Taylor. Justin is one of the top emerging artists here in Pittsburgh. He was just part of an exhibit sponsored by PIFA and he’s due to start there in the fall.” Brian continued to brag about his companion, once again causing Justin’s cheeks to flush a bright red.
“It’s great to meet you Mr. Remsen,” Justin replied as the two of them got into a discussion of art styles and schools.
In the middle of this conversation, Brian felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out to look at the caller ID. He became instantly alert at whatever it was he saw.
“I’m sorry to do this to you, Charles, Justin. I really have to take this call - it’s urgent. Please, excuse me,” Brian said, moving away and leaving Justin talking to the corporate art collector.
((((((((((((((((((((((B/J)))))))))))))))))))))))
“Kinney here. What have you got for me? Did you find the guy in California? . . . Great, so what did he have to say?. . . The fucker! I was afraid it was something like that . . . So why didn’t the cops pursue it? Sexual assault is pretty serious shit . . . Yeah, you’re right - another case of the police not giving a crap about crimes in the gay community. Why am I surprised? Did the guy tell you why he dropped the charges though? . . . Muller must have got to him somehow - either paid him off or intimidated the fuck out of him . . . Yeah, great job. Thanks.”
Brian hung up and stood looking down at his phone for several minutes wondering what to do next.
(((((((((((((((((((B/J))))))))))))))))
Justin was still standing with Charles Remsen and talking art when it happened.
“Hello, Beautiful,” the vile voice said into Justin’s ear as he felt two strong arms wrapping themselves around his waist from behind. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, my sweet.”
“Brandon,” Justin said through gritted teeth and was about to say more.
“Shhhh, my beauty,” Brandon whispered into Justin’s ear. “You don’t want to cause a scene do you? You wouldn’t want me telling all these nice people, friends and clients of your boyfriend, how you came to meet, would you? And I’m sure you don’t want them to know about you being a common rent boy, now do you?”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Brandon said aloud in a sickly sweet voice, as he pulled Justin away from the surprised Charles Remsen. “I just have to steal young Justin here away. You understand, don’t you?”
“Brandon, let me go,” Justin demanded as loudly as he dared, struggling to free himself from the taller man who was inexorably pulling him away from the crowd in the main rooms towards the back of the Kinnetik building. “Let me GO, you fucker!”
“Sorry, but I just can’t do that, love. We’ve got things to do.” Brandon said as he pushed Justin through the rear door from Kinnetik into the alleyway beyond.
((((((((((((((((B/J)))))))))))))))))
“Hey, Charles. Where did you let Justin run off to?” Brian asked when he returned to where he’d left the blond talking with his potential client.
“He just left a minute or two ago. Some tall blond guy pulled him away. Too bad, though. We were right in the middle of a discussion about the modern abstract school of art,” Remsen was saying but was interrupted by a worried Brian Kinney.
“Shit! Did you see where they went?” Brian demanded.
“Sorry, Brian. I wasn’t really paying attention."
“Thanks anyway.” Brian immediately moved away and seeing Cynthia a few paces away, got her attention with a hurried gesture. “We have a problem. Get Bruce and the rest of the security team and have them meet me out front.”
Brian quickly scanned the rest of the room but didn’t see any sign of either Justin or Brandon so he moved directly to the entrance doors. About ten feet from the entryway, a slightly shorter, stocky young man moved out of the shadows and intercepted Brian, blocking his path. Brian stopped short, not immediately recognizing the youth. But as soon as the boy spoke, Brian knew precisely who it was.
“Kinney. I’ve got a score to settle with you, you fucker. You don’t get to sucker punch me and get away with it you know.” Chris Hobbs said in an angry growl.
“Hobbs. Sorry, but I don’t have time to deal with you right now. Why don’t you leave your contact information with my assistant and I’ll kick your ass again later when I’ve got a free minute or two,” Brian sneered, pushing his way past the boy, still trying to get to the door and find Justin.
“No. I think you’re going to have to deal with me right now. Only this time, I’m ready for you. And so are my friends.” Hobbs said as he grabbed Brian’s arm from behind and quickly twisted it up behind him hard, causing the surprised man to list forward and almost fall.
Chris pushed Brian the rest of the way through the doors and then towards the right of the building where a group of five or six tall, muscle-bound, jock types were lounging around the corner of the building. Brian was not exactly the pushover that Hobbs expected, though, and he didn’t fight fair. Brian waited for the moment when there was just enough room between their two bodies so that he could slam his balled fist backwards into the other man’s groin as hard as he possibly could. It wasn’t a hard enough blow, due to the odd angle, to completely incapacitate Hobbs, but it was enough to get him to loosen his hold enough that Brian could twist out of his grasp and move his body around so he was now facing his attacker. Then, in one swift motion, Brian jabbed his fist into the man’s abdomen, right below the rib cage, immediately paralyzing the nerves of the smaller man’s solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him and causing Hobbs to double over in excruciating pain.
It took the jock’s buddies a couple of minutes to react to this reversal of combatants before they began to run up to the two men. Luckily for them, Brian was not in any mood to waste his time on this bunch of losers. He was still focused on finding Justin as quickly as possible. So, instead of taking out the rest of the pack, which he would have loved to do, Brian retreated until he saw his head of security, Bruce, running up from the sidewalk towards the disturbance. Brian quickly explained what what going on with the bunch of rowdies, who were already scrambling to get away from the crew of large, intimidating security men heading their way. The security staff wisely let the majority of the boys go and simply gathered up the still wheezing Hobbs, who they dragged off to a back room where he could be held until the police were called.
“Fuck him,” Brian insisted, pulling Bruce away from the puddle of Hobbs and dragging the huge man along with him. “I don’t give a crap about that stupid loser. We’ve got bigger problems - Justin’s missing and my PI just called a little while ago to tell me that the guy who’s been stalking him has a history of sexual assault. We have to find him. NOW, Bruce. He can’t have been gone more than five minutes. Check all the rooms in the building and station someone out here in front. Make sure that no one leaves until I get back. Stall all the guests - tell them there’s a mix up with the valet service or something. Whatever. Just find him.”
((((((((((((((((((((B/J))))))))))))))))))
In the alleyway behind the building, Brandon was trying to pull a struggling Justin towards his car which was parked at the far end. Justin was not going to go quietly. The fear that had previously almost paralyzed the young man had evaporated and he was fighting every step of the way. Unfortunately, the larger man had his arm wrapped around Justin’s neck in a firm choke hold and every time the young man began to struggle harder, Brandon just tightened his grip until Justin’s airway was cut off.
Finally, Justin managed to get in a pretty good kick to Brandon’s shin, causing the man’s anger level to escalate dangerously. Brandon turned and slammed Justin’s slight frame against the brick wall behind him in his fury, his large hand tightly gripping Justin’s throat. Justin was still struggling, even though he was slowly running out of air, clawing at Brandon’s hand and still trying to kick out or punch at his attacker. Brandon’s temper was no longer in check at all, though, and he effectively curtailed the fight by slamming Justin’s head back into the wall hard, two or three times and then slugging the younger man in the gut once with all his strength, immobilizing his prey.
“Well, now, Beautiful. I was going to take you back to my place where we could get more comfortable,” Brandon was sneering at Justin who was now cowering away from the stronger man. “But since it seems you’re just so eager and can’t wait, I guess we’ll have to do this here.”
“No. Brandon, please, no.” Justin rasped out.
“Nobody tells me ‘no’ my sweet. Nobody rejects Brandon,” the tall blond was saying as he tore at the smaller man’s shirt, ripping off the buttons and pulling away the now ruined cumberbund. “Besides, you want me and you know it. Don’t you, Justin. I can feel you getting hard. You’re just a fucking tease is what you are.”
“NO!” Justin tried to yell, but his cry was cut off by Brandon clamping his hand over the younger man’s jaw and forcing his mouth shut with strong, painful fingers.
“Shut the fuck up. You’re just a fucking whore. You’re going to like this and you’re not going to say another word, do you hear me? If you say anything, I’m going to make it even harder on you. Although you’d probably like that too, wouldn’t you?”
Brandon ended this tirade by crashing his mouth against Justin’s, forcing the younger man’s mouth open by digging strong fingers into his jaw muscles and forcing his tongue inside Justin’s mouth. Justin tried to push the larger man away, shoving with his hands against Brandon’s chest. Brandon responded with another fist to Justin’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him briefly and causing his hands to fall limply to his sides.
Brandon used this momentary cessation in Justin’s struggles to rip at the tux pants, tearing the button off and forcing the zipper down then pushing Justin’s pants and briefs down to his calves. Then, before Justin had managed to get his breath, Brandon shoved his shoulders around and slammed his slender frame face first into the bricks. The repeated blows to his head were making Justin dizzy and he was having trouble standing upright. He tried to get leverage from the brick wall to push away from Brandon’s grasp, and cushion his head from the bricks at the same time, but the stronger man just knocked his head against the wall again and again until Justin began to slump downward. Brandon was laughing now that there wasn’t any more struggle left in the boy.
Pinning the sagging youth to the wall with one hand, Brandon pulled a condom out of his pocket, undid his own pants and rolled on the latex sheath. Then he leaned forward to bite at the delicious slender neck he’d been fantasizing about for weeks, biting so hard he actually drew blood, and savoring the tangy copper taste. Finally, he was ready to finish what he’d been planning ever since he first saw this tempting, teasing little blond who had had the audacity to try to turn him down. He reached down and gripped the boy’s hips, pulling them up higher so that he’d have a better angle and then . . .
“The security system shows that the rear exit was opened less than ten minutes ago. Nobody should have been back in this area of the building,” Bruce was saying as he pulled open the rear door and rushed out, followed directly by a frantic Brian.
The alleyway was incredibly dark, making Brian mentally berate himself for not having security lighting put up earlier. The two men scanned the area rapidly and didn’t at first see anything. Then, from about halfway down the alley, behind a dumpster, Brian heard what sounded like a whimper - it was a small sound and barely audible, but to the sensitized hearing of the frenzied and desperate man, it was enough. Brian took off down the dark alley, pounding towards the dumpster and whatever was hidden behind it.
Brandon was oblivious to anything around him. He was focused solely on the object of his hatred and desire. He was just about to stab into the dark depths of that teasing little blond’s perky ass, when a roar of outrage and anger shook him out of his reverie at the same time as a driving blow to the side of his head knocked him sideways to the wet hard cement ground. Taken by surprise, Brandon didn’t have a chance to defend himself as a rain of hard, unceasing blows pounded down on his face and his body, not ceasing until someone finally tore the raging storm of fury away from him.
“Brian, stop. Stop! Leave something for the police to take to jail,” a deep bass voice was saying somewhere over Brandon’s head, while he lay there, curled up into a ball to protect himself. “I’ve got this piece of shit. You need to take care of the boy. The police are already on their way and I’ll call an ambulance right away.”
“Justin! Oh shit, Justin,” Brian was kneeling down, crying, his arms gathering up the younger man who had dropped to the ground unconscious when his attacker was finally pulled away. “Sunshine, please, wake up. No, no, nononono. Justin.”
Brandon was still lying on the ground where he’d been left, trying to get his mind around what was happening. He distantly heard the wailing noise going on next to him and assumed it was Kinney and the boy. Then the noises stopped.
“YOU GODDAMNED MOTHER FUCKER! I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” was the last thing Brandon heard that day, as Brian’s foot slammed into the side of his head.
(((((((((((((((((((((((B/J)))))))))))))))))))))
“I’m looking for my son, Justin Taylor. I was told he was here,” the sophisticated, worried voice finally penetrated Brian’s reeling mind, causing him to look up and meet Jennifer Taylor’s gaze.
“Brian! Where is he? What’s happening?” Jennifer rushed over to the devastated man sitting on a bench in the ER waiting room, Daphne right beside him holding onto Brian’s hand with tears coursing down her face as well.
“We don’t know what’s happening, Mrs. Taylor,” Daphne answered. “The doctors won’t tell us anything since we aren’t family. We’ve been waiting for over an hour now. Maybe you can get some information, now that you’re here.”
Brian slumped against the seat back again as Jennifer returned to the nurses station and started asking questions and demanding answers. Daphne went back to trying to comfort the man sitting beside her - the beautiful brunet’s sad hazel eyes overflowing with tears he couldn’t hold back. After a few minutes, Jennifer had apparently finally gotten someone to listen to her because she came back and sat down on Daphne’s other side.
“How the hell did this happen? Tell me!” Jennifer demanded, staring accusingly straight into Brian’s lost eyes.
“We were all together at a party at Brian’s office,” Daphne started to explain when it looked like Brian wasn’t going to be able to. “This guy, Brandon, has been stalking Justin, I guess for a while - but Justin hadn’t said anything about it to me, so I had no idea. Somehow, though, this Brandon got into the party and grabbed Justin and pulled him out into the alley behind the building. None of us even knew he was gone at first. Brian started looking for him and found Justin with that fucking monster attacking him in the alleyway.”
Before Daphne could go on, they were interrupted by a tall indian woman wearing scrubs and a lab coat who came through the ER doors and approached the group with confident steps.
“Are you Mrs. Taylor?” the woman said, facing Jennifer. “I’m Doctor Singh. I’m in charge of your son, Justin’s, case. “I can give you an update on his status. Would you like to talk privately somewhere?”
Daphne put her hand on Jennifer’s wrist, shaking her head as she whispered, “please”.
“Here is fine, doctor. These are Justin’s friends and I’m fine with them knowing what’s going on.” Jennifer confirmed. “Please, tell us. How is Justin?”
“Right now Justin is stable. He’s suffered a severe concussion with multiple cuts and abrasions on his face and head as well as his body. He’s going to have extensive bruising all over his body, I’m afraid. He also has two fractures to his left wrist - obviously defensive wounds from where he was trying to hold off his attacker.” the doctor began, but then hesitated to go on, worried about the sensitive nature of the rest of what she had to say. “The rest is, well, harder to deal with - do you already know the nature of the attack on your son, Mrs. Taylor?”
“Just that he’d been attacked by this man who had apparently been stalking him.” Jennifer replied, confused by the doctor’s hesitation. “Please, just . . . whatever it is, just spit it out.”
“Your son was sexually assaulted, Mrs. Taylor,” the doctor continued. “There doesn’t appear to be a lot of damage related to the sexaul nature of the assault - just some bruising - but we have done a rape kit and the police have been notified.”
“My god!” Jennifer gasped, her hand going to cover her mouth as if to hold in the shock and the pain.
“If there is any good news, Mrs. Taylor, it’s that I think Justin will be fine, physically. I’ve already set the fractured wrist and put it in a cast and we’re stitching the various cuts now. We’ll have to keep him in the hospital for at least a day to monitor him because of the concussion, but I don’t anticipate any lasting problems from that - we’ll want to do an MRI just to make sure there’s no internal clotting or other problems, but so far the signs are good.”
“Is he awake? Can we see him?” Brian finally spoke.
“He is awake, but still a little confused and he’s in a lot of pain. I’d like to get the MRI done and then get him admitted to a patient room first and then you are welcome to visit him,” the doctor advised. “The police will also want to question him as soon as Justin is ready - you will likely want to be there for that, unless Justin objects.”
“We’ll be there.” Brian asserted, his eyes hard and angry at the thought of what Justin would still have to endure.
“Well, I’ll be getting back now. I’ll have the nurse come tell you when you can see Justin.” The doctor said as she left.
The three stunned people sat silently for some minutes after the doctor left, Daphne and Jennifer still crying quietly. Brian’s tears had finally dried up but he looked even more devastated by the news of Justin’s injuries than the other two. No one appeared to know what to say, at first.
“How the hell did this happen?” Jennifer finally said, looking to Brian for answers. “You told me he was safe. You said he was doing fine. How did you let this happen?”
“I didn’t know,” Brian’s response was hushed, his voice trembling and barely audible. “He didn’t tell me about Brandon before. I only found out about the stalking a few days ago. I didn’t know. But I should have. I’m sorry.”