Blinded

Chapter 12

Justin made them some soup for lunch. They ate in rather uncomfortable silence. Justin wondered who the man across the table from him really was. From what he had heard he didn't know Brian at all, and that scared him.

Brian knew his confession had somehow upset his young helper. He wasn't sure which part of it had spooked the boy, but he guessed it had to do with him bringing tricks home and getting stoned on a regular basis. He should never have told Justin about his other persona.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk," Justin said as he loaded the dishwasher. "Will you be all right by yourself for a bit?"

"Sure," Brian replied knowing that some time apart would give each of them a chance to think and try to deal with the uncomfortable feelings between them.

"I'll lock the door behind me," Justin said as he slipped on his coat.

"Wouldn't want someone to steal me," Brian said wryly. He heard the loft door clang shut and knew the boy was gone. He stared in the direction of the door wondering how the fuck they were going to get through the rest of the weekend. He didn't think Justin would just leave, but he sensed that he now made the boy feel uncomfortable. Justin's need to take a walk proved that he wanted to get away from Brian. Before, he would have insisted that Brian go with him.

Justin ran down the stairs. He felt he had to get out of that building, to clear his head and figure out what the fuck he was going to do. He had worked it all out in his mind before their little talk just now. He was going to crawl into Brian's bed that night and seduce the man into fucking him. He knew they had been very close to doing that when they woke up that morning. But now! Justin knew he was falling in love with the tall, handsome man. He still felt that way, but he also felt fear. Brian had all these secrets, lived a lifestyle that Justin could barely comprehend, and seemed to have no qualms about pushing people away once he was through with them. Justin didn't want to be one of the discarded ones. He didn't think he could stand that.

When he reached the bottom of the steps, Justin ran across the lobby, threw the door open and ran along the street making sure he went in the opposite direction from the park. The last person in the world he would want to meet right now was that Mikey guy. In his haste Justin didn't see the shadowy figure that slipped into the building before the door could lock behind the boy.

Brian leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. He debated getting up and stumbling around the loft trying to negotiate his way around like he really knew what the fuck he was doing. That seemed plain ridiculous so he stayed put. He wondered about calling Cynthia, but it was the weekend. He'd have to call her Monday and explain somehow why he wasn't coming into work once again. Vance would shit himself.

Overriding all these thoughts was Justin. What the fuck was he going to do about Justin? He didn't want to hurt the boy. In fact, he wanted to give the boy what he so clearly had been asking for, his first fuck. But, he knew he wasn't going to do that until he could see the look on Justin's face as he was taken for the first time. He wanted to remember that look, and he wanted Justin to remember it as well … and he wanted it to be perfect. And Brian couldn't give him that if he was blind.

And then there was the whole issue of Justin's reaction to the way Brian lived his life. Brian had thought the boy would know that he wasn't going to be treated like his other tricks. Christ, they had spent the night in bed together and absolutely nothing had happened. But he supposed Justin didn't know what would happen once they fucked. Maybe he thought he would become another nameless trick like the asshole that was sending him those letters.

Brian sat up suddenly. Someone was at the door trying to open it. Maybe Justin had come back, but he had the key. He had to have it to lock the door from the outside.

"Justin," Brian said weakly trying not to panic. The door was locked. No one could get in. There was no answer. "Justin," he said a little louder. There was no response but Brian was sure someone was out there. He waited. The hair stood up on the back of his neck and he felt a clench of fear in his gut. What would happen if someone got in? He couldn't fucking see. They could kill him and he wouldn't be able to defend himself at all. Brian shook his head. He had to stop thinking like that. No one wanted to kill him, fuck him maybe, but not kill him.

He listened carefully and heard nothing more. After a minute or two he knew whoever had been there was gone. He let out a breath and tried to stop shaking. Fuck! He was such a coward. Everything was so scary in the dark. It could have been anybody at the door, maybe even Michael checking up on him. But Michael would have answered when Brian called out, or used the fucking key that he had to the loft.

Brian leaned back and closed his eyes. He had to get hold of himself. He didn't have to have a panic attack every time he heard a fucking noise. Maybe it had been the trick who wouldn't take no as an answer. Maybe the guy had left another one of his messages. If it was that, it was only paper. Paper couldn't hurt him. Brian wondered if he should open the door and see if there was a note there. What the fuck good would that do, he asked himself. He couldn't read it if there was. And … and the guy could still be out there just waiting for Brian to open the door. He wondered if the guy knew that Justin had gone out.

Justin! Where the fuck was that kid? How long had he been gone? Maybe the trick had done something to Justin, and that was why he felt confident enough to try the loft door. Brian shivered. He wanted Justin to come back … now.

Suddenly he heard another noise at the door. He heard it slide back and he felt his heart freeze in his chest. "Justin," he managed to whisper as a new round of panic swept over him.

"It's me," Justin said from beside him. "What's wrong?"

Brian's hand reached up looking for his savior. "Justin," he said hearing his own voice sound like a sob.

"I'm here, Brian," Justin whispered against his ear as he grabbed Brian in a tight hug.

"Someone was at the door," Brian said shakily.

"I know. There's another note."

"There is? I … I didn't know what to do."

"It's all right. I'm here now," Justin said releasing Brian who sat up and tried to collect himself.

"I'm … I'm sorry," Brian whispered hanging his head. "I don't know where that came from."

"It's okay to be afraid. This guy is scary … and you can't see."

Brian knew Justin was trying to make him feel better, but he just felt like a helpless fool. He was practically bawling and hanging onto this kid like his fucking life depended on it.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long but I needed to think," Justin explained.

"And what did you decide? Are you leaving?"

"Leaving? God no, I wasn't thinking about leaving. Is that what you thought … that I'd leave you all alone?"

"I didn't know what to think. When you didn't come back, I thought maybe he had hurt you."

"Fuck! We need to call the police," Justin stated.

"Maybe … maybe we should," Brian agreed. He wanted this stopped now.

"Should we open the letter before we call?" Justin asked.

"No, leave it. Maybe there's something on it that the police can use as evidence," Brian said.

"Should I call 911 … or what?" Justin asked not sure what to do.

"Do you remember picking up a business card from the nightstand in my room in rehab?"

"Yeah, I think I put it on the desk when I unpacked your suitcase," Justin said moving over to the desk.

"It's from the cop who came to see me about the mugging?"

"Do you think this has something to do with the mugging?" Justin asked looking alarmed.

"Fuck no! But maybe he would come and look into this stuff with the letters," Brian said hopefully.

"I'll dial it and you can talk to him," Justin said matter-of-factly as he picked up the phone.

Brian spent the next few minutes getting connected to the right person and then explaining what was going on. Finally he hung up.

"Here," Justin said handing him a bottle of water from the fridge. "It's water. Being scared makes me thirsty." Justin took another long drink out of his bottle of water. "I thought you could use a drink too."

"Thanks," Brian replied twisting the top off the bottle and drinking greedily. "I could use something stronger."

"Not till we get this sorted out. What did the detective say?" Justin asked.

"He's coming over as soon as he can."

"So we wait."

"Yep."

"Brian, I need to ask you something," Justin said rather hesitantly.

"What?"

"Can I trust you?"

"You have to ask?" Brian said with a snarl. "I've given you the keys to my whole fucking life."

"Not your whole life," Justin said boldly. They needed to get this out in the open. "And I'm not talking about keys."

Brian knew Justin was talking about his secrets. "I guess there are a few things I've kept to myself."

"Is … is there more that I should know?" Justin asked dreading the answer he would receive.

"I don't think there's more that you need to know. My … life … is complicated in a lot of ways."

"Yeah, so I see," Justin said ruefully. "You know … you know that I'm attracted to you?" Justin said partially as a question but more as a statement.

"I kind of figured…"

"But you've kept me at a distance. Is that because you don't want me … or because you do want me but not under these circumstances … or are you just using me as your companion until you can see?" Justin hesitated for a moment but then plunged on before Brian could answer. "Will you fuck me when you get your sight back and … and … and then tell me to get lost … like you did this guy who's sending the notes?"

"Justin, I…" Brian began but didn't know how to answer that question. He couldn't tell Justin how much he wanted him. He couldn't admit that he had planned to fuck the kid into next week once he got his sight back. All he knew was that he would never tell Justin to get lost.

"I see that you're having a lot of trouble with the answer to that question and I even made it multiple choice. I guess I have my answer." Justin turned away as the emotion of being rejected swept over him.

"I don't know how to answer your question, Justin," Brian said, sounding much calmer than he felt. "I … I do care about you. I … like you and I would never tell you to get lost."

"Even after you fuck me?"

"That … that can't happen," Brian stated knowing he wasn't ready to complete the sentence with one word "yet".

"Ever?" Justin asked.

Brian rubbed his hands across his face. The persistent little shit just wouldn't leave well enough alone. "I have a lot to deal with before I can answer that question," Brian admitted.

"So, you won't give me a straight answer," Justin stated. "Maybe after tomorrow I should see about getting another community service assignment."

"No," Brian choked out before he could stop himself.

"You don't want me to go away and stop bothering you?"

"I … need you."

Justin smiled. That was as close to an admission of Brian's feelings as it seemed likely he was going to get. He'd take that for now. Brian wanted him there and he had said he would never send him away. That held some kind of promise. "Okay," Justin said, "but we're not finished talking about this."

Brian groaned. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

The knock on the door interrupted anything further on the matter. Brian jumped noticeably at the sound. Justin hurried to the door.

"Who is it?" Justin asked.

"Detective Carver," a voice from the other side of the door stated.

Justin unlocked and pulled back the door. The detective stepped inside. He looked around the loft obviously assessing what and who he was dealing with. "You are?" he asked pointedly giving Justin the once over.

"I'm Justin Taylor," Justin replied extending his hand to shake the detective's. "I'm staying with Mr. Kinney until he gets used to being in the loft.

"I see," the detective replied. Justin wondered just what the man was seeing. "Mr. Kinney," Carver said moving over to where Brian was seated on the sofa. "So you've been receiving harassing letters."

"Yes," Brian replied.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Almost a month."

"A month? Why did you choose now to call?" Carver asked.

"We got another letter today," Brian explained. "Justin had gone out for a while and I heard someone at the loft door. I called out Justin's name and then everything was silent. It … it scared me being here by myself … being blind. If the door hadn't been locked…" Brian chose not to complete that statement.

"So how did he get to your door?" Carver asked.

"How did you?" Brian countered.

"Point taken. This isn't the most secure building."

"No, if you hang around the front door someone will let you in or you can catch the door before it closes," Brian said.

"So where's this letter?" Carver asked.

"Justin, where's the envelope?"

Justin picked it up from the desk and offered it to the detective. The detective pulled out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them on before taking the letter from Justin. "May I?" he asked before he ripped it open. He proceeded when Brian nodded. He pulled the paper out and began reading: "You are not making the correct decisions, Brian. Get rid of the kid and I will come look after you. I can do a much better job than the blond. If you don't send him away, I will have to do it for you."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Justin asked alarmed.

"I don't like the sound of that," the detective observed.

"Neither do I," Brian said with a worried frown on his face.

"You think you know who's sending these?" Carver asked.

"Not exactly," Brian replied.

"On the phone you indicated that you did," Carver told Brian not at all pleased to hear what Brian was now telling him.

"I told you in the hospital that I was gay. The guy sending these is a trick from about a month ago."

"A trick?"

"Yeah, he came home with me one night and I had trouble getting rid of him. Right after that these started coming."

"Do you have other ones he sent?" Carver asked.

"They're in the desk. I'll get them," Justin said getting up.

"So if you know who this guy is, give me his name and we'll have a little chat with him."

"I don't know his name," Brian confessed.

"You don't know … his name?" Carver said slowly.

"That's what I said."

"But you had him in your home, had sex with him, and now he's jealous of you. And you don't know his name?"

"That's right."

"Jesus," Detective Carver said shaking his head. "Where are these other letters?" Justin handed them to him.

"They're getting more threatening," Brian said, "especially towards Justin."

"Is this all of them?"

"I threw some away at first. They were just … mushy."

"But now he's getting angry," Carver said.

"Seems that way."

"I'll take these with me. Forensics will run them, but we probably won't find anything. In the meantime be careful … both of you."

Justin followed the detective to the door and locked it behind him. Justin turned to look at Brian.

"That went about as well as I expected," Brian said with a sigh as he gazed into the black nothingness that surrounded him.