CHAPTER 38: IN THE LAND OF THE MISSING

Where do we go from here?

There comes a time when love just can fade away

And it came came across for you and I

And I don't know how or where to go from here

I really don't know just what to do

So Baby can you tell me*

Michael had been driving for well over five hours, with no confirmed destination in mind. As the popular song from the 80's station blared through the speakers in the SUV, his mom kept calling his phone. He knew it was her because every time it rung, Van McCoy's The Hustle would interrupt his thoughts. He knew he should probably answer so she would stop, but he didn't feel like speaking to her, or anyone else just then. No one, but the one person he knew he would not hear from.

He'd just lost his best friend. The only man to mean more to Michael than his own life, and the man who loved another, who was NOT Michael. For all intents and purposes Brian had married Justin, and not him. The road blurred before him because of the tears, constantly falling from his eyes. And Michael couldn't stop them, not that he wanted to.

He needed the cleansing just then for his broken heart.

Admittedly, Michael should never had gotten involved with Ben. Brian had warned him. ‘Kiss it, stroke it but don't fall in love with it.' Of course, that's not what Brian meant in reference to the warning, but it was a warning Michael should have heeded just the same. Now Ben was as heartbroken, as he was. And all because of one man... 

Justin Taylor-Kinney. 

If only Brian had listened to him that fateful night fifteen years ago, he and Ben would never have met and gotten married. But more importantly, Michael wouldn't have lost his best friend. He sniffed and rolled his eyes at the thought, Hmmpf some best friend.

Where do we go from here

My love

Do we just walk away or do we keep on trying

After the feeling's gone

My Love*

After Brian told him that he had forced his hand, and that the Brian and Mikey show was officially over, Brian Aiden- or should he say Asshole- Kinney had gotten out of the car, and never looked back even as Michael sat there crying, watching the love of his life walk away. He thought he should have gone after Brian, to make him see how much he needed him. To make him face the fact that he was making a terrible mistake by ditching Michael. Sure, they'd both said things they didn't mean, right? They had plenty of arguments before.

And one, no make that two, major fights, but we always found our way back to each other.

The panic had set in then. What if we really can't be friends anymore? What will I do, without having to take care of Brian? He's been my world, my rock, my courage and protector, my best friend practically our entire lives. But he left me...for him. 

Michael thought that maybe it was his turn to fight for their friendship that was in his reality, so much more. He had watched Brian, so sure that he would come back to the car and apologize... Until he went back in the house to the party. It was more like a wedding reception with hundreds of guests. Michael's shoulders had slumped at the realization, that it actually was.

It was only then that he started the car to slowly, yet forcibly, drive back through the gates of the palace simply known as Britin.

Now there was a time when I thought I knew you well

That's when we were young and satisfied

Now I don't know what or how to go about it

Shall we take the chance and patch it up

Or just leave it for a million years

We've been trying to work it out all summertime long

I can't figure out, where did we go wrong*

Michael thought back over their entire relationship of more than thirty years. The fact that he didn't know Brian anymore, and apparently hadn't for a long time, was more shocking than anything else. Brian had never willingly chosen self-preservation, over his friendship with Michael before. It was always Brian defending him against others, including his mother sometimes. Even when Michael had fucked up royally, Brian always took the blame, and covered for him, making all of his wrongs right.

When Michael did the stupidest things, like the time Brian had warned him not to fuck Big Allen at the Baths, and he got a severe case of gonorrhea for doing it anyway, it was Brian who had taken him to the hospital. Then covered up the problem with his mom, for missing curfew. The sad part was that even though Michael knew he'd fucked up, he had actually expected to be forgiven, with Justin out on his bubble plump ass for assaulting him. Funny how that hadn't happened. And this time, he couldn't even blame Justin for it, because aside from beating him up, Justin had stayed out of the situation between Michael and Brian. Unlike what Michael would have done.

No, this was solely Brian's decision.

Michael could tell, since they'd known each other so many years. There wasn't any doubt in Michael's mind that this time he'd gambled big, and lost bigger. He'd squandered away the only thing that ever really mattered to him. Brian. And that hurt worse than any of the bruises, on his face and body, because of Justin.

As he continued to drive, he saw the sign for where he needed to be, for someone who he needed desperately to talk to. As quiet as it was kept, David and Michael had rebuilt their friendship over the years, especially during one of Ben's hospital stays. One of David's patients was in the same hospital,  needing a rod placed in his spine, after a motorcycle accident. So, they had brought David in, as the consulting physician. When he had asked what Michael was doing there, he was honest with David advising that his husband whom he'd married in Toronto was very ill.

From that day up until a month ago, they spoke regularly. When Ben got curious and asked him about it, he was honest explaining that although they were all wrong for each other, they were still great friends. Ben told Michael that it was good they realized that, and wasn't bitter about the breakup. And that if David added to his life, Michael should preserve the friendship. He understood at the time, Ben was speaking from past hurt, regarding his own ex, and their supposed mutual friends.

Michael thanked him for understanding, appreciating the nonjudgmental advice, more than Ben ever knew. So with those thoughts in mind, Michael exited the expressway on his way to the house, he used to call home. Michael needed his friend to help him cope with the loss of his best friend. And who better able to do that than Dr. David Cameron.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I talk to myself

Craig arrived home, physically and emotionally, spent. His time with Mistress Phoenix was both the best, and the worse time of his life. Watching her tits bounce as she fucked him was as arousing as it had ever been. And he'd never cum so hard in his life. But their talk afterward, disturbed him.

He knew he didn't have legal recourse against her, because of the disclaimer the club owner always kept on file. Yet, there had to be some way to make her pay for what she'd done to him. It wasn't the humiliation she'd made him endure, or the fear she inspired within him. Those were her special gifts, and an inbred talent, which couldn't be taught. But it was her superiority, and calling him out for his secret vices that rankled. 

How dare she, a slut, call him a hypocrite?

How dare she think she shouldn't show respect to her better, to a man who could buy and sell her well-toned ass at the drop of a dime?

No, the problem was that he knew Gary Saperstein wouldn't fire the whore. She was one of the club's biggest moneymakers, in the last three months since she started working Struts. There was a charisma, and mystique about the woman that made the clientele want to look deeper. Plus the last Domme they had was mediocre, compared to Phoenix, and Saperstein knew it. But that didn't give her the right to judge him, both as a man, and as a paying customer.

He winced on his way to the guest room shower. The pain in his ass was pleasurable, but he still felt raw. Driving home had been excruciating, but in a ‘can't wait to do it again' kind of way. Phoenix had promised him that he wouldn't be able to forget that he got fucked, and she was right. He stepped into water as hot as he could stand it, his back on fire not only from the water, but the welts he knew were there.

He didn't know how he was going to explain the marks to Madison. The last time, they weren't that bad. So, he had gotten away with telling her that he'd backed into a nail in the storage room at the store. She'd bought the excuse without question. He liked that about her.

She was so naive and innocent, in the ways of men. It was always a refreshing change from Jennifer, even after all these years. Somehow, Jennifer had always known, whether he was with Madison, or not. When he asked her how she did, she never said. Only that didn't want to see him in her bed, for the rest of that night.

Craig shut off the water, and dried himself off in front of the mirror. His neck was still sore from the way Phoenix had grabbed him by it to make him taste himself. He couldn't say that it was unpleasant. But just the idea of drinking and swallowing cum, even if it was his own, was appalling and made him ashamed that he perhaps liked the taste. He wasn't gay for Christ's sake, so it should have made him gag and vomit.

The confusing problem was that it didn't, and that was just unacceptable to him.

Reaching for the toothbrush he kept there away from the eyes of his wife, he began to brush his teeth vigorously, deliberately gagging himself with it trying to force the DNA-contents of his stomach up. The idea of his potential babies still being there, didn't sit well with him. As he tended to his oral ablutions, he continued to think on the problem of Mistress Phoenix. She knew too much about the meeting, which also gave her too much power. Exposing that to the men at the table, was out of the question.

If they knew that she knew, it could mean disastrous results for him, including his death. Especially, if Joshua Markham had anything to say about it. He couldn't let that happen. The ruthless bastard wouldn't only take him out, but Madison and the children. He couldn't let the Hobbs' bastard son, take out his last shot for a straight one of his own.

Think. Think. Think, Craig. There has got to be some way to get the bitch taken care of, without it leading back to you. 

As much as he would hate to lose her, she had to fucking go. Picking up his cell phone and rushing into his home office, he looked for the only person, who could do this without messing up. He even considered using him for Justin, and his fucked-up molester. But there was no way, he wouldn't have been a prime suspect. Dialing the number quickly, he listened for potential footsteps coming down the stairs of the house.

Madison had to know that he was home by now, and she would certainly come down to make sure he'd eaten. And that he didn't need anything else, before she went back to bed. He loved that about her. Unlike Jennifer, she really knew how to cater to her man. She was such a good wife.

"Well, this is unexpected," the voice on the other end of the phone said. "What can I do for you, Mr. Taylor?"

"Cut the bullshit, Bruno. I need a job done clean, crisp and quickly."

"Sounds juicy."

"Oh, she is. Her name is Mistress Phoenix, and you have my permission to enjoy her before you kill her."

"A woman? You want me to kill a fucking woman? What the fuck did she do? Break your dick as she rode you?"

Craig flushed at the memory of his time with Phoenix. The last thing she did was ‘break his dick.' He felt a pleasure-pained twinge in his ass, as he remembered her reaming him for all she was worth. "No, she didn't. She just knows too much of my business, and I want to eliminate a possible threat. She could really fuck things up for me."

"How soon do you need her disposed of? It's going to cost you big. But then, you know that, don't ya?"

"Yeah. And you know I'm good for it, too. Anyway, I'd like this done tonight. She's scheduled to leave Struts in about an hour."

"Well lucky for both of us, I'm in Pittsburgh at the moment. Otherwise, you would have been up shit's creek. One thing though."

"What's that?"

"Wire me the money now. If it's as crucial as it sounds, I'm not taking any chances."

"You don't trust me?"

Bruno laughed, loud and gruff, as if he hadn't done it in awhile. "I don't even trust Jesus when it comes to my money, and I know he's more reliable than you."

Craig grumbled about there being no honor left in the world, even as he walked over and powered up the laptop. He typed in his code, and all the pertinent information to the joint account. When it read ‘Error,' he tried again, even pulling out the checkbook to make sure he wasn't transposing the numbers as he typed. He received the message three more times in quick succession, before the bank's system threatened to lock him out for twenty-four hours. He typed in his checking account number, and looked at the balance.

He didn't have enough to cover Bruno Josham's entire fee. "Goddammit!"

"Problem?" the smug voice asked over the phone.

"There seems to be a problem with my account. I can't try the number again tonight, otherwise the system will lock me out. Can we make another type of arrangement?"

"You know how this works, Craig. I don't do payment plans. Now, if you want to call me when you have your shit together on your end, I'll be happy to take this job on. Especially if there's succulent, clean and free pussy in it for me. Otherwise, this conversation never happened."

"Fine. I'll call you in the morning then. Will you be able to meet to get the cash in person?"

"Sure. You just call me with a place and time."

"Okay," Craig said, and hung up the phone, right before speeding out of the office.

Taking the steps two at a time, he went in search of Madison. Something was wrong with the account, and since that was the one she withdrew from the most, he thought there was something she'd neglected to tell him. When he reached their bedroom, he was a bit puzzled to find the bed empty. But then he figured one of the kids may have had a nightmare, or some other such nonsense. Heading to the kids' bedroom, he listened at the door for a few minutes.

He really didn't want to wake her with this problem, but it was too important not to. That account had almost four million dollars in it, which would cover Bruno's seventy-five thousand dollar fee. Craig only had about ten thousand in his personal account, and the bills just went out from his business account. So, there was no way he'd be able to draw off Taylor Electronics, without one or two checks bouncing. He knocked softly on the door before entering. 

What the fuck?! The empty bed and crib alarmed him, to the point where he was tempted to call the police, thinking his family had been kidnapped. No. There has to be a reasonable explanation for this. But where the fuck are they?

He exited the bedroom, heading back to the Master. The suitcase was gone. Okay, they must have gone over to her parents' house, for the night. But that didn't make much sense, since both cars are now parked in the garage. Where the fuck are my wife and fucking kids?! 

Craig took a deep breath to calm the hysteria bubbling inside him. He picked up the phone on Madison's night table, dialing her father's cell phone.The groggy voice answered the phone on the third ring. "Somebody better be dead and stinking for my phone to be ringing this late at night."

"Hey Saul. It's Craig. Sorry to call you so late."

"What's wrong? Is Madison-"

Craig closed his eyes. "Well, you just answered my question. She isn't here, and I thought she was scheduled to spend time at your home tonight, but forgot to tell me."

"What the fuck do you mean my daughter isn't there?"

"Just what I said, Saul. She and the kids aren't here. Her car is parked in the driveway, and one of the suitcases are gone. I thought she was over there." He shrugged as if it made perfect sense.

"Have you called her phone?"

"I was about to when I decided to call you, instead."

"Well call her phone, and call me tomorrow. I'm sure it's all a big misunderstanding. Other than that I'm going back to bed. Margaret and I have a flight to Italy in about four hours."

"Will do. Enjoy Tuscany," Craig said, and hung up the phone. Asshole.

Craig looked around the room again, noting nothing was unusual outside of the suitcase missing and a few clothes gone. As he moved to his side of the bed, he noticed the note lying there. He breathed a sigh of relief. See, Craig? There really is a reasonable explanation to all of this. He took one more trip to the restroom before, settling into bed to read the note.

Craig,

By now you have discovered that the kids, and I are gone. We will be away for awhile. I know you have been inside that filthy club, Struts, so don't even bother to deny that. Based on that, I think we need a little time apart. Don't worry, I'm not divorcing you. We do have a contract, after all. But the fact that you were there, hurt me deeply. I feel like everyone knows you've been hanging out there, looking at other naked women and I... I don't like the thought of them whispering behind my back. Although I won't tell you where we are, just know that we are safe. Also, I took the money in the joint account and closed it to avoid unnecessary bank fees, until we're ready to come back again. I'm sure you and your giving nature don't mind, because you would want all of us cared for.

Before I close this letter, just know that I love you, Craig. I will be back. We will be back, but I just can't be around you right now.

Your loving wife,

Madison

He picked up the phone by the bed again, this time dialing Madison's number and was pissed, worried and disappointed when he heard it buzz and ring on top of her vanity. What the fuck was he supposed to do without his wife, for how ever long she would be gone? More importantly, she emptied and closed out the fucking joint account. And there was nothing he could do about it, since they were married. How the fuck was he supposed to take care of Mistress Phoenix now?

He hadn't felt so impotent, since the moment Justin had announced he was gay.

 Fucking women!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Hit and the Target

Bruno Josham walked into Struts, looking for the woman he was supposed to dispose of had Craig Taylor been able to wire the money. Mistress Phoenix was instantly recognizable, and he had to admit the auburn-haired woman with her red and gold highlights was a fucking beauty. The cafe au lait color of her skin, glistened as she moved through the room. Even in the leather jumpsuit, and thigh-high 5-inch heeled boots, she moved with grace and style, completely in control of herself. A lioness on the prowl, and just as foreboding.

Therefore the men tempted to reach for her, wouldn't dare. The riding crop in her hand, looked like it was made specially for her. He could tell from his seat, she knew exactly how to use it. Her green eyes scanned the room landing on him briefly, acknowledging his regard with a slight nod of her head while giving instructions to the passing waiter. Yeah, Mistress Phoenix was indeed, a force one should tread lightly with, if at all.

"Fancy meeting you here, Bruno. What exactly are you doing here anyway?" Gareth Kilpatrick asked.

"What? You didn't miss me?"

"Of course, I missed you. Did you get the Townsend family settled?"

"Yeah, I got them settled in and had enough time to get back here. Now would you care to explain what you and Anthony are doing in this flesh palace, and does Celene know?"

"Of course, she does. But she also knows that nothing, and no one can compare to her for me."

"Not even the Mistress over there?"

Gareth laughed. "Especially NOT Mistress Phoenix." He mock shuddered. "To answer your question though, Anthony and I are doing a protection detail of sorts."

"Of who? You guys are big time millionaires, and out of the game for I don't know how long now."

Gareth nodded. "But that doesn't mean there isn't precious cargo right here within the club."

Bruno's eyes followed the his finger pointing to the stage. "Holy fucking shit! Is that Shelia?"

"Yep. That's my wayward sister, and Anthony's wife. I think she's reliving her college glory days."

"How the fuck are you sitting here letting her do this?"

"By not watching her do this," he cringed. "Shelia is filling in for Evangeline who had an impromptu trip somewhere. Sarah needed to watch the floor for her client, and some meeting they had regarding Brian and Justin."

"I wonder if those guys will ever catch a damn break, Gareth. I really feel sorry for them," he said. Bruno was six-seven with a heart of gold, despite his less than savory background. A former enforcer for the drug lordess, Queenie otherwise known as Tamara St. Giles, he received a second chance due to assisting with the Fred Pierce case. As a result, he gained a whole new set of friends, and his own security business.

"Me too. They don't deserve the bullshit coming at them. I'm not gay by a fucking long shot. I love Celene's pussy too much, but I have to admit everything about them would have made me envious, too. And then when you hear the story of how they finally ended up together, it makes mine and Celene's eight year courtship, even at a distance, seem like a fucking fairytale. Those dudes went through some real shit, surviving a bashing, and just barely surviving a fucking bomb."

"Speaking of which, did Phoenix tell you how we're going to deal with you know who?" he lowered his voice, because part of the duo was on his way from the bar, and headed straight for them.

"You mean the GHB-slinging twinkie and his dealer? She hasn't said, yet. But I think she has something really special in store for the two of them, before she carts their asses to federal prison. The old boy is about to make the FBI's most wanted list. He's been in talks with some lords overseas, if you know what I mean."

They quieted then, because the waiter had arrived at the table with a platter of drinks.

"We didn't order these," Bruno said, his deep bass voice, rising a bit over the loud music.

"I know, Sir. They're courtesy of Mistress Phoenix in appreciation of your regard a bit ago," Sean confirmed.

Gareth and Bruno sipped their drinks while Anthony accepted his, but his eyes were glued to the stage while his wife performed. "This is top shelf stuff," Gareth confirmed.

"She said since you've been sitting there all night, and have been the most respectful of this rowdy lot,  she wanted to show her appreciation on behalf of the girls."

"Please thank her for us," Bruno said, effectively dismissing the twink.

As both men watched him move off, Gareth said, "So what really brings you in, Bruno? And don't tell me it's specifically for the entertainment, or I'll hurl and then throw my drink on you."

Both men laughed. The idea that Bruno would even want a piece of Sarah in her ‘Phoenix' disguise, or to watch Shelia was distasteful to them both. "Although I would be more apt to gouge my eyes out with the nearest sharpened object, I actually received a very interesting phone call on my way back here."

"How interesting?"

"So interesting that we'd better wait for Sarah, and hope the phone taps in Craig Taylor's humble abode, including his cell, have been planted already."

"I wonder what the hell happened? I saw him go back with her earlier. She made a real pussy boy out of him in front of his friends, but I think he liked that since he was like a kid in a candy store when he left them. But an hour later, he came out and I could swear you could see steam coming out of his ears."

"I don't know the whole story, but it was enough for him to place a call to Queenie's enforcer to rub her out tonight. Something happened with his account, and he couldn't wire the money to me. Yeah, something happened."

"I wonder if Justin's mother convinced his wife to cooperate."

Bruno shook his head. "By the sound of his voice, I think it's more likely that she convinced his wife to skip town with the kids, and the money."

"Fuck! Based on what Mark Townsend told us before he left, she would have enough to leave and stay gone for a very long time."

"That's what I thought."

Sarah sauntered up to the table just then, under the guise of making her rounds. "I need you three to make sure Shelia gets out of here safely."

"Was there ever any doubt? That's why we're here. Anthony and I knew there would be trouble," Gareth confirmed.

"Yeah well, this isn't just any kind of trouble, but the king of it. One of the men at the Taylor table tonight advised that he wanted her."

"All men want my sister at some point, except me," Gareth said.

Sarah shook her head. "This is different, Gareth. He actually threatened Saperstein to his nephew, if he didn't have unfettered access to her."

"Dammit. Didn't I warn both you, and her about this shit?" Gareth said, steel underlying his voice.

"The others were fine with not having her. But this guy is a loose cannon, literally. He's the one we suspected of blowing up Babylon some years ago, and it was confirmed tonight. He's a killer, not just a bomb maker. But a fucking killer, you guys."

"So fucking arrest him." Anthony joined the conversation now that Shelia was not on stage anymore.

"You know it doesn't work that way, Ant. I wish sometimes that it did, especially in this case. But there is the new information we gathered tonight. Someone called ‘the Boss' has been directing part of the latest attacks on our favorite gay couple. We have to find out who she is."

"She?" all three asked, in unison.

"Yeah. She. I swear this thing reeks of Queenie. But that's impossible because she's in jail, and not likely to see the light of day again because of all the murders she committed, Fred among them."

"But that doesn't stop her from having visitors, or phone calls," Bruno said.

"No, it doesn't. But the calls would most likely have to be local, and that's Florida. But there is something I'm missing, and you may be onto something. I'll call the captain in the morning to have all the phone records pulled from the prison. Also, I think we need to have her cell searched in case she has some dedicated folks within the prison system that would happily, and illegally get her access to a cell phone while there."

Gareth smiled. "And that's why we love you. You're always so suspicious of everyone, even cops."

"Hey I'm a cop, and I know that the last place anyone would look is at the police. In any event, Bruno, what's up? You got that family settled?"

"Yeah, Sarah, they're good and happy now. But we have other shit to deal with. Did you get the wire taps in place for Craig Taylor's phones?"

"I did them myself, and his computer."

"Why am I not surprised?" Bruno laughed, while he shook his head. He'd never met a woman like her, except for his ex-boss. Sarah Morrissey was resourceful, handy and a fucking dynamite agent. Her department would be lost without her. "Anyway, you need to check those tapes for the reason I am here."

"Why not just tell me now?"

"Because your sleaze ball boss is out of the office. He, and his equally sleazy nephew are looking this way."

"I know. I feel their eyes on my back, and also know they're curious. But you know what happens to curious cats, right?"

Bruno grinned then. "They get burned by the Phoenix."

She returned his smile. "Exactly. So what the fuck will I be listening for?"

"The hit he tried to get me to do tonight."

"To whom?"

"You, Sarah. He wanted me to kill you. You need to watch your back, and that includes those on your team."

"I will. Do you think you can all meet me at the Taylor-Kinneys later tonight? I'm pretty sure that party is still going on."

"It is," Gareth confirmed. "I'll call Brian to make sure. We can probably meet inside his office. Although it's inside his house, which is fucking huge, it's still pretty secluded in a back corner of the mansion."

Sarah nodded. "In the meantime, Anthony, I need you to collect your wife, Ty, and Todd. Then get the hell out of here fast. Bruno, I need you to alert Frankie, and fill him in on everything we just spoke of."

"What about you?" Anthony asked.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. I also need to put in a call, and get my contact here to Pittsburgh within the hour. There is a heavy piece of business that needs to be resolved, but I'm going to need Justin Taylor's help doing that."

"Not Brian's?"

"Oh his, too. But there is more at stake for Justin than he realizes. Now get moving, guys."

Sarah turned on her heel and left the table, moving in the direction of her dressing room. On her way she was accosted by Gary Saperstein, and Sean.

He grabbed her arm. "Hey. I'm not paying you to chat it up with your boyfriend," he sneered at her.

She looked him dead in the eyes, green scowling into blue as she flexed her deceptively strong arm. "Kindly remove your hand before you end up missing it, and kissing the floor."

He held it tighter. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, Phoenix?"

She wasted no time. In a move that shouldn't have been possible in the outfit she wore, Sarah pushed Gary out away from her body, pulling him back in just as quickly and flipped him onto his back. She placed her boot on his throat, leaning her weight into the action, effectively limiting his air supply. Sarah relished hearing the wheezing sound as his marginal breath sawed in and out. She pushed her foot a fraction deeper, watching as he grabbed at her foot, trying to remove it to no avail.

She laughed at his efforts, while the others looked on. She threw a wink to Gareth, Bruno and Anthony who watched, and guarded a stunned but delighted, Shelia. "I quit," she said softly, but succinctly. "By the way, you might want to be careful the next time you try to bully someone. You never know what they know."

She walked to her dressing room, laughing softly and thinking about the way his eye bulged out of his head. The Sapersteins numbered days just became limited to mere hours.

*Where Do We Go From Here (1989)/ Stacy Lattisaw featuring Johnny Gill