Brian couldn’t believe he was being hauled into the police station. Well, not hauled actually, but no one had yet said why one of Pittsburgh’s finest was waiting for him when he got home. He definitely had other plans as his mind wandered to the hot guy he had picked up at Woody’s. He raised the elevator gate as an officer approached him. “Brian Kinney?”

Now here he was in a small interrogation room, hearing for the first time that his nephew had accused him of molesting him. Brian was, at first, uncomprehending, then quickly became furious at the accusation. Luckily, it was just John’s word against his at that time and they let him go.

While he was waiting for Michael to pick him up, a voice called out his name. “Kinney!”

“What? Didn’t you ask me enough questions during the grilling?”

“Cut it out, Brian. For your information, this is no laughing matter. You can be in a lot of trouble.” Carl Horvath held the folder with Brian’s paperwork in it. He was very interested in some of the information it contained. He decided not to get into all of that right now. Brian had other, more pressing matters to handle.

Brian stared at the detective. “Look, Carl. I know how much trouble I can be in. That little brat of my sister’s is a liar and I intend to prove it. He’s just trying to get back at me because I caught him going through my wallet. He stole my leather bracelet.” Brian stopped talking as he looked down at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Before he could say anything else, Michael arrived.

“Brian, what’s going on? Why are you here in the police station?” He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, noticing how tired he looked. “Carl, what’s going on here?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of Brian.

Brian answered before Horvath could. “My nephew, you know, the one you gave all those comic books to?” Michael nodded. “Well, it seems he told my sister who told the cops, that I molested his sorry ass.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know it and you know it, Mikey.”

“Carl, how could you believe such a thing?”

“Michael, an accusation was made. We have to look into it. That reminds me, I’m going to have to talk to Debbie in the morning. Don’t say anything to her, or anyone else about this. Do you hear me?”

Michael nodded then turned to his friend. “Come on, Brian. Let’s go.”

Horvath gave Brian another word of warning. “Brian, Go home. Get some rest. Don’t take matters into your own hands, okay?”

Brian stared at him, wondering about the softening attitude. “I won’t promise anything. This is my life that’s being ruined.”

“Listen, for your own good. Don’t do anything rash.”

Brian dropped Mikey off at his apartment and drove on alone. He promised Michael and Carl that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt his case, but he had to confront his nephew. Instead of heading to the loft, he drove to another house several miles away. Slamming the car door shut, he all but ran up the steps. His first inclination was to bang as loudly on the door as he possibly could, but at the last minute opted to ring the buzzer. Claire opened the door and quickly tried to slam it shut when she saw who was there. Brian pushed the door open and stormed in, demanding to see John and yelling at his sister. It was then that he saw Joanie in the parlor. His mother, the person who was supposed to love him so matter what. Yeah, right.

“You have nerve showing your face here,” his mother said, the hate evident in her voice.

“You believe him? How could you think I’d do that. No don’t answer, I know. I’m an abomination and I’m going to burn in hell. Right, Mother?”

Joanie stared at him with steely eyes. “I think you’d better leave now before I call the cops.”

Brian pulled away from the stare. He had seen it so many times before, even from his childhood, and it sent chills through his body. Not that he’d let her see it, of course. “Well, fuck you, Mother. I don’t need you. I don’t anyone.” He turned his back on the older woman and glared at his sister as he headed for the front door.

“I don’t need anyone,” he murmured to himself as he headed back to the ‘vette. He allowed himself to believe that as he drove to the loft.

“I don’t need anyone,” his mind kept repeating as if it had to convince himself of the fact.

Once back in the loft, he didn’t even bother undressing. He threw himself onto the bed, fully clothed and stared up at the ceiling, one arm thrown over his head and the other resting on his abdomen. Visions of blond hair and blue eyes swam before him. “I don’t need anyone.”

He closed his eyes tightly and covered them with his arm, trying to get rid of his memory of Justin. It was hopeless. He knew Justin could somehow make it all better for him. But Justin wasn’t here anymore. He tried not to think of his childhood, but they were all mixed up in his mind. Memories of Jack towering over him, voice loud. The big hands as they roughly pulled him from where he was sitting. Big hands that left red marks on his arms, legs, stomach, and back. Rarely his face, that might have caused too many questions that needed answering. No, Jack knew to leave the face alone.

And the words that cut through him. “You should never have been born. You should be the one dying. You’re no son of mine.” Words that hurt until he learned not to hear them.

He fell into a fitful sleep, where fists kept clenching and unclenching as unwanted dreams invaded the night.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

1982

Brian was huddled in his room, leaning into the corner by his desk, knees to chest and his head resting on his young, knobby knees. He tried putting his arms around his folded legs, but the pain in his left shoulder hurt too bad. Jack knew not to mess with his right hand or arm. That would bring too many questions from school when Brian couldn’t hold a pencil. Tears streamed down his face, but he never made a sound. He knew that if he did, his father would smack him around some more for “being such a sissy”. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve this round of pain. Probably nothing, really, other than to just BE. That must be it, because he was only ten and how bad can a ten-year-old mess up? A baseball accidently hitting the side of the brick house, TV too loud, getting an A- on the math test instead of an A+? And sometimes that’s all it took.

When the tears finally stopped, he got up from the bed and pulled his history book from his backpack. He started reading chapter seven, although he knew the material and would ace the test the next morning. He ignored the growling sounds from his tummy. He missed supper, again and would have to wait til breakfast to eat anything.

With nothing better to do than sleep, Brian undressed and crawled under the blanket and rested his head on the pillow. He had a hard time getting comfortable due to the pain in his shoulder. So what else was new? He was almost asleep when he heard the bedroom door opening.

“Brian? Are you awake?”

It was Claire. Brian let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and quietly answered, “Yes.” He started to sit up, but the sharp pain stopped his movement. “Ahh,” he said, his breath catching.

Before Claire turned on the light, she put a folded towel at the base of the closed door so no light would spill through to the hallway. “Here,” she said, holding out her hand.

Brian took the apple and 2 cookies from her. “Thanks, Claire. I was kinda hungry.” He smiled shyly at his sister. Claire then put her hand in the pocket of her robe and pulled out two Tylenol and a bottle of orange juice.

“Sorry, but it’s all I could get.” Brian nodded and swallowed the pills with some juice before he started on the apple. “I better get back. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Claire was almost to the door before Brian spoke again. “Why does he hate me so much?”

Claire wished she had an answer for her brother. She really didn’t understand, either. At ten, Brian was a beautiful child, hinting at the man he would become. He was the brain, not her. He was the budding soccer player and could play football if he wanted to. She was the plain one, struggling through school, unable to do the simplest dance steps. No, she didn’t know. To her, he was the normal bratty brother whom she didn’t even want around her or her girlfriends. Until Jack ...did what Jack did. She wasn’t sure if it was relief that it was Brian who got the back of his hand or the guilt that she felt that made her risk cookies and juice for her brother.

She just shook her head apologetically and shrugged. Brian turned off the light as his sister removed the towel from the base of the door and quietly left. Brian sat in the dark eating one of the cookies, dropping crumbs onto the bed.