Starting a branch in L.A. was dangerous, Brian knew this. There were already so much competition in the area. L.A. was a mecca for advertising. But he had something many didn’t, a list of potential clients that had begged him to put a branch up in sunny Cali.

It was still in the planning period though. Looking for locations, talking to other potential clients. It was starting to feel like he should just throw the towel in on this endeavor. Not only that he was flying to L.A. every few days. He’d work so much he hadn’t even seen his mother in a month.

There was no way he could look any of them in the eye though. Brandon hadn’t known who he was when he slept with him. To Brian, he was no better than a rapist. Just the thought of that night turned his stomach. He’d been so jealous. Just the thought of Emmett touching Brandon had bothered him more than it should. After all, he should want his nephew to grown up in a happy home. Between his mother, Debbie and Vic he had a great childhood. The only exception was Jack Kinney. They were lucky though, he didn’t seem to care about them. Ciaran deserved loving parents, even if Ardan was no longer around.

“Get out of my room,” Justin yelled at Daphne.

Sure it made him feel like a child, but he had the flu. He wasn’t one that liked to be babied. And because he didn’t want to risk Ciaran or Joan getting sick from him, he had banished himself to the room.

“I was just checking on you,” she pouted. Ever since she started taking care of Ciaran they became friends.

“I’m not a child. And you can’t get sick too, Ciaran needs you.”

“He misses you.”

“I miss him too, but I can’t risk it.”

“I know, Joan told me to tell you to go to the doctor. She’s already made you an appointment. Vic is going to take you.”

“I don’t wanna.” Now, it was turn to pout.

“They’ll give you medicine. You’ll get better faster.”

He couldn’t really argue there. He missed his little boy. Even though before he got sick he had resigned himself just to staying in his room.

“Fine, when is my appointment?”

“In an hour.”

Justin groaned and forced himself out of bed. This day was going to suck, he just knew it.

After three calls in one day, Brian had finally been convinced to visit his mother.

When he entered the house, he saw Daphne with Ciaran. She had him dressed to go out.

“Where are you two going?” he asked as he hung up his suit jacket by the door.

“Well, we have a play date with the Beasley twins.”

“He’s a baby. How would a play date work?”

“We put them on their stomachs for tummy time and let them communicate with each other.”

“That’s idiotic.”

“Don’t you have small villagers to scare?” she asked.

He liked Daphne. She was spunky.

“Haha, now where is my mother?”

“In the sunroom, I believe. Well, it’s been a blast, gotta go.”

He hesitantly walked to the sunroom. It worried him that he’d see Brandon, who would now hate him. As he walked into the sunroom, he steeled himself. The first thing he saw was a large canvas on Brandon’s easel. He remembered seeing the painting a month ago, it had been almost finished. It was amazing. Now thought it was completely trashed. Black and grey paint splattered all over the sunrise, road and brick house.

“What happened to it?”

“Sunshine broke down a few weeks ago. He threw paint on all of his work except the portrait of Ciaran. He’s sick now but had shut himself up long before that.”

“It’s my fault,” he said, sitting on the end of the chaise his mother was laying out on.

“How could it be your fault?”

“I slept with him. It wasn’t until after, I realized he thought I was Ardan.”

Joan knew this was the time to finally be truthful. Well, that had been in the beginning but she couldn’t stand to see her son so broken. She just hoped he didn’t hate her in the end.

“Brian, I have something to show you. I don’t want you to get so upset you do something you’ll regret though.”

“What?”

She pulled a picture out of the book that was resting on her lap, and handed it to him. Brian looked down at the picture but couldn’t figure out why she gave it to him.

“I don’t understand. Why are you handing me a picture of Ardan with one of his tricks?”

“That’s not, darling. That is his husband…Brandon.”

She said the words but they didn’t make any sense to him. “That’s not Brandon.”

“Yes, it is. The boy and Ciaran aren’t Ardan’s.”

Anger flowed though him. “How long have you known?” he bit out.

“Since the moment I saw him. It was when I realized none of them survived. I’ve had Brandon and the baby entombed with Ardan.”

“And you just decided not to tell me?”

“I thought you’d make them go away. You’ve been so busy lately, it has just been me, Vic and Debbie in his house. And they have their own lives. I think Carl is going to propose to his Debbie any day now. Vic and Rodney are so close; I think he’s ready to retire. I didn’t want to be alone,” she cried.

He couldn’t argue there. Before losing Ardan, he only would drop by every few months. He always assumed Debbie and Vic would always be there for her.

“Does he know you know? Has this been something you two have laughed about?”

“No, he doesn’t know. I was afraid he would leave.”

“Is that why you tried to push us tougher?”

She nodded. “I hoped if you got together, Ciaran would really be my grandson, and maybe you’d have some more. It seems like you’re never going to settle down.”

Before anything more could be said Vic and the impersonator walked in the sunroom.

Quickly, Joan dried her eyes with her handkerchief. “Sunshine, what did the doctor say?”

“What is you real name?” Brian demanded.

The boy’s face paled. “Justin Taylor.”

It was over; everything. “Get your kid and get out,” Brian snarled.

“Brian, no,” his mother cried.

“Out. You’ve had your laugh at the grieving family.”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Justin begged him to understand.

“You have twenty minutes to collect your things. I’ll allow you to keep anything that was bought for you or the baby. I think that is more than generous.”

“Brian, this is my house. I say he can stay,” Joan said in a shaky voice.

“Do what you want, but if he’s not out of this house in twenty minutes I’ll press charges.”

If he got arrested, he’d have to choose between Ethan and state care for Ciaran.”

“I’ll leave,” he said brokenly.

Justin could hear them arguing after he ran out of the room. It turned out even with the gifts he didn’t have that much stuff. Only two bags and Ciaran’s two bags.

He cried as Vic drove him to the bus station. The train would be fast but he couldn’t get back on a train.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Vic asked sadly.

“I only have one option left. I just hope it doesn’t end up the way I think it will.”

He didn’t say anymore. He hoped his dad wouldn’t slam the door in his face or worse.

As the taxi pulled up in front of the dilapidated house, his spirits got even worse. The house looked like it hadn’t been cared for since he left over two years ago. The lawn was over grown and a codes violation was on the door.

The taxi driver dumped everything on the ground. Paying him, Justin turned his attention back to the house. Justin carried the baby and his carrier up the walk, leaving the bags on the ground in case he needed to escape fast.

After banging on the door for a few minutes, he finally heard rumbling noise inside. The door opened and the air in this lungs rushed out.

“Dad?”

The man before him was a shadow of his former self. He was skinner than he’d ever been, his skin a sickly yellow color.

“Justin? They- They said you were dead. They said they found your bag and license.”

“It was a mistake. Can I come in?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes, of course.” He shuffled out of the way. “Come in, come in. You got a baby?’ That’s nice.”

Justin’s jaw dropped. What had happened to his father?

As he walked in the saw how bad everything had gotten. Filthy dishes on every surface. Trash overflowing in the garbage cans. But surprising no beer bottles were in sight.

Justin was worried to set the carrier on any of the surfaces or floor. Luckily the living room had been cleaner.

“Church lady keeps coming over, she does what she can,” his father said in Justin’s unasked question.

Craig Taylor sat down heavily in a dusty recliner.

“Dad, what happened?”

Looking down at his fingernails before looking back up Craig answered. “I’m sick. It’s my own fault. Cirrhosis of the liver. Years of alcohol abuse. Given it all up. Doctor just put me on some more meds. I wanted to die after the police told me they suspected you were dead. I would too except for I wanted to bury you proper. I thought maybe when the accident happened. I just felt it in my heart. But the body wasn’t you. It wasn’t until weeks later they found the bag. They thought maybe you had been burned so much they couldn’t find enough. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Justin was shocked when his dad wrapped him up in his arms. For the first time since being kicked out by Brian he could breathe again. His dad wasn’t kicking him out. He saw Ciaran and didn’t shutter in disgust. He should have come home in the first place. Then none of the harm to the Kinney’s he’d done would have happened.

“Sorry, the place is so dirty. I’ve not had the energy to clean up. Hopefully the new meds will start working soon.”

“You don’t worry about that, Dad. I’ll clean this place top to bottom. I’ll get a job, maybe Mr. Thompson will hire me back. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Craig smiled sweetly at his son. Justin being alive was a god’s send. When he had found out about the cirrhosis and the talks of a living donor were thrown around he had been so upset. The police had told him about the chance Justin dying in the crash. He only had the one son. But now he had a second chance.

All he had to do was convince Justin to become a donor for him. The fact that there was a chance for Justin to die during surgery didn’t really bother him. Maybe then he could have the whole kidney. He knew if Justin did die his brat would be in care before the day was over. Not that it mattered if Justin lived, as soon as he had want he wanted, he’d kick him to the curb. Might as well get a clean house while he’s at it.