Blinded

Chapter 19

Brian awoke with a start. The last thing he remembered was Justin asleep on his chest. But the boy was no longer there. Brian reached out to Justin's side of the bed, but he knew it was empty. He sat up, disappointment written all over his face. He was about to call out for Justin when he heard the shower go off and knew that was where his minder was. He smiled at that thought. Justin had done a good job of taking care of him. He knew that he had received another good night's sleep with his little tempter wrapped firmly against him.

"Fuck!" he said out loud as he realized that they had not discussed the coming evening. Justin was expected back at home and Brian would have to stay alone. He shivered at the thought.

Justin came back into the bedroom wearing his underwear. "Morning, lover," he said suggestively as he saw Brian sitting up in bed. "Can you see this morning?"

Brian snorted. "Yeah, right, I'm just sitting here waiting to plow your tight little ass," Brian said sarcastically. He wasn't in the best of moods following his realization about the night to come.

"I take that as a no," Justin said with a chuckle.

"What time is it?"

"Just about eight."

"And no sign of Cynthia yet. What time do you have to leave?"

"That depends on whether you let me take the Jeep or you make me ride the bus."

"Take the fucking Jeep," Brian snapped.

"In about a half hour then. Why are you in such a bad mood? You were sleeping like a baby when I got up."

"None of your fucking business!"

"Brian?" Justin asked in bewilderment.

"I need to piss," Brian said getting up and making his way to the bathroom.

Justin watched him go. He frowned and wracked his brain trying to figure out what had set Brian off. The man had been sound asleep. What could have happened? A bad dream?

Justin pulled on the rest of his uniform and gathered up his books and backpack. He went down to the kitchen to grab a bagel. He decided to toast it before he left. He put some coffee on for Brian. When his bagel popped out of the toaster he was tempted to grab it and just leave. Brian was in such a foul mood. But they hadn't made any arrangements for that evening. And then it dawned on him. He was supposed to be at his parents that night. Brian would be alone once Cynthia left. That must be what was upsetting him. Brian was worried and scared, yet he couldn't bring himself to ask Justin if he could return to the loft. He'd suffer in silence. There was so fucking much to understand about Brian Kinney. Justin wondered if he would ever figure it all out.

Brian came out of the bathroom and Justin banged his knife on the counter so the man would know he was still there. "Haven't you pissed off yet?" Brian asked with a snarl.

"Cynthia isn't here yet. I want to meet her."

"She said she might be late. She has to stop at the office first."

"I want to meet her," Justin repeated. "I made coffee."

"Thanks," Brian said as he finished pulling on some clothes. Justin set a mug of coffee down on the table. Brian sat down.

"It's right in front of you," Justin said. He watched Brian reach out and make contact with the cup. "How late will Cynthia be able to stay with you today?" Justin asked deciding to take the bull by the horns.

"Don't know."

"I'm supposed to go home for dinner, but … I could ask my mother to let me come back to spend the night."

"You could?" Brian asked. Justin could hear the anger disappear and the hope return in that short question.

"I don't want you to be alone. You know that, don't you?" Justin asked wrapping his arms around Brian's neck and giving him a kiss.

"Yes, dear," Brian said trying to be more sarcastic than it sounded.

Justin chuckled as the buzzer went off. He went to the intercom and told Cynthia to come up. Brian sat at the dining room table nursing his cup of coffee. He tried to steel himself for Cynthia's concern and possible pity. He knew he would never be ready for that.

"Hi, I'm Justin Taylor. I've been staying with Brian for a few days," Justin introduced himself to the pretty, blond lady.

"Hello, Justin. I'm Cynthia. Where's Brian?"

Justin cocked his head toward Brian's seated form at the table. He said, "I just wanted to meet you. I have to get to school. Bye, Brian." Justin ran down the stairs knowing that if he really pushed it he might make it to school on time.

"So what the fuck is going on?" Cynthia asked pulling the loft door closed. "Vance is having a fucking bird!"

"Grab a coffee and I'll fill you in. Oh, and lock the door."

Cynthia glanced at Brian wondering about the lock business, but she did as he had requested. She grabbed a mug and poured some coffee carrying it over to the table. She sat down across from her boss whose eyes seemed glued to his coffee cup. "Spill!" she ordered.

"I'm blind."

"Wh… What the fuck did you just say?" she sputtered almost spitting her mouthful of coffee at him.

"You heard me."

Cynthia studied him carefully noting the way he looked down and refused to make contact with her eyes. There was a slight discoloration around the eye area. "What happened?" she asked finally comprehending and believing what he had just said.

"I was mugged a few days before I called you that first time. I called from the hospital. There was head trauma. I was in a coma for a couple of days and the optic nerve was damaged."

"Oh, my God," she reacted. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"They say my sight will come back. There's pressure on the nerve, pooled blood or something. I kept hoping it would just go away. But not yet."

"Jesus, Brian, you should have told me."

"There was nothing anybody could do except come to the hospital and heap pity on me."

Cynthia shook her head. She knew pity would be the last thing Brian wanted. "And when have you known me to offer pity. I should kick your ass for keeping it from me."

"Down girl," Brian chuckled. It was nice to talk to Cynthia. He could always depend on her. And there was no bullshit involved.

"And just who is this Justin Taylor that met me at the door?"

"He's doing community service."

"By living here with you?" she demanded.

"It's a long story, but he has been a big help. I'd still be in rehab if it wasn't for him."

"You do have friends, you know. I'm sure Michael would have stayed with you."

Brian glared at his assistant. He didn't want to get into that with her or anyone else. "Did you bring the cellular account?" he asked deliberately changing the subject.

"I did, but how are you going to work on it when you're…"

"You can say it," he said when Cynthia hesitated. "I'm blind. I figure I can tell you my ideas and you can draw them up on the computer."

"You have … ideas?" she asked still disturbed by what had happened to her boss and unsure exactly what he wanted her to do.

"I have nothing else to fucking do, other than sit around and think all the time. It's my eyes that don't work, not my fucking brain."

"I … I didn't mean it like that," she said softly.

"I know. I'm just a little touchy these days. Can we get started?"

They spent the rest of the day working. Cynthia was quite surprised at what they could accomplish. Brian seemed to be able to describe his vision of the account and she worked it out on the computer. Cynthia made them lunch and then they got back at it. She was amazed how much they actually accomplished. When Brian said he had had enough, she saved what they had done. She asked Brian how he wanted her to handle the office rumor mill which had been running rampant with his extended absence.

"I'm actually getting a glimmer of light every once in a while," Brian explained carefully.

"You mean your sight is coming back? That's great!"

"It is, but it's just a flicker and it's only happened once or twice. Most of the time I'm in total darkness. I don't want anyone to know about this, so just tell them that I … broke my leg … or something, and I have to work from home."

Cynthia chuckled. "I'll come up with something," she said.

"Is there anything else you want me to do while I'm here?"

"Could you find someone to type out some stuff I've been writing … a transcribing service or something?" Brian asked.

"I can do it for you. I still type almost ninety words a minute."

"Thanks, but I don't think this would be your cup of tea," Brian said not really wanting Cynthia to know about his novel.

"What do you mean? Are you writing some gay sex or something?"

"Actually … yes," Brian said with a smirk. He should know better than to think he could keep something from her.

"You're kidding … right?"

"No," Brian said shaking his head.

"Let me at it," Cynthia said with a laugh. "I could use some provocative sex."

"I don't think that would be a good idea. Just find me a service to do it."

"Sure," Cynthia said disappointed. She was kind of hurt that Brian wouldn't share this with her. She went to the desk and found the phone book. She quickly arranged for the company to send a courier to pick up the tapes. "It's all arranged," she said coolly when she was finished.

"Cynthia, it's nothing against you. I just don't think I want to mix my business and private life."

"Of course, Boss, no problem at all," she replied formally. "Where are these tapes? The courier will be here in half an hour."

"In the desk drawer. Shit!" Brian reacted. "When I send these away I'm out. I won't be able to work on my writing."

"Want me to go down the street to that electronics store? They would probably have some."

"Could you? That would be great."

Cynthia grabbed her coat and went to the door. She unlocked it and started to pull it back when she gasped in surprise and jumped back. "Fuck!" she said taking a quick breath.

"What's wrong?" Brian asked concerned.

"I thought I saw someone standing just outside the door," she said looking out. "Scared the shit out of me, but there doesn't seem to be anybody there now. Where could they have gone?"

"From here? Maybe up to the roof, but I don't know who would be going up there this time of year."

"It must have been my imagination. There's no one out there. Do you want to lock the door behind me?"

"Yeah," Brian said as he made his way over to her. When she stepped out he quickly pulled the door closed and locked it.

"I'll be back in fifteen minutes," she called out as she headed down the stairs.

"Hurry back," Brian replied more to himself than to Cynthia.

He leaned against the firmly closed and locked door. He wondered who could have been hanging around out there. It could have been the stalker. But Cynthia hadn't mentioned an envelope. He hadn't received one for a couple of days now. Maybe the guy had given up. He hoped so. But it could have been him planning to leave another message when Cynthia interrupted him.

Suddenly the phone rang and Brian just about jumped out of his skin. He counted his way over to the desk and felt around for the cordless.

"Hello," he said tentatively.

"Brian?" Justin asked.

"Yeah, who did you expect?"

"I thought Cynthia would probably answer. She hasn't gone home already, has she?"

"No, but she's out running an errand. She'll be back soon."

"I have some bad news. I'm at home and it's started to snow. There's supposed to be the first big storm of the year tonight."

"Did you call to give me the weather report?" Brian asked sarcastically.

"No, of course not, but my parents don't want me to drive in it. I thought I might have been able to talk them into letting me come over, but now there's no way."

Brian sighed. "Could you take a cab?"

"They don't want me to go out, but they said I could come over tomorrow after school and stay with you. Will you be all right till then?" Justin asked hopefully.

Brian knew he didn't want to lay a guilt trip on the young man who had already done way beyond the expected for him. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I said, I'll be fine," Brian repeated with an edge to his voice.

"If you need me for any reason, just push 9 on speed dial."

"You programmed your number in?" Brian asked.

"Yeah, just in case you needed me. And, if you do need me, just call. I'll come immediately. I don't care what my parents say."

"Listen to your parents. I'll … I'll be fine," Brian said hoping he could somehow get through the night alone.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Justin asked hearing something in Brian's voice.

"I told you I'll be fine. Cynthia should be back any minute."

"Make sure you get her to fix you some dinner," Justin counseled.

"Yes, dear," Brian snarked. Why did he keep calling Justin that?

"I better go," Justin said. But remember. Call me if you need anything."

Brian cut the connection and took a deep breath. He had a feeling that it was going to be a long night.