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The elevator doors slid open, revealing the gentlemen's club-like lobby of Bailey's apartment building. "This is where you live?" Nathan asked. Bailey nodded, pleased with Nathan's reaction. "I've lived here since leaving home, when I was eighteen. I like it. The staff runs interference, so no one shows up at one's door, uninvited." "Very cool," Nathan murmured. "Sounds like just the sort of place Dad would want Riley and me to be staying." "Ah, Mister Witherspoon," Bailey smiled, as the building's concierge, a uniform-clad, very aristocratic gentleman approached. "I'd like you to meet Nathan, Riley's younger brother. He has just arrived from Atlanta, and will be staying with Riley and me for the near future." The man turned his attention to the dark-haired young man at Bailey's side. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Pruitt," he said, "and may I offer my condolences on your loss," he murmured, as he shook Nathan's hand. "Thank you, sir. I'm looking forward to being with my brother, and visiting Bailey. If I might, there is something I would like to ask of you." Mister Witherspoon raised his brows and politely waited, making no promises. "Bailey has mentioned how good you are about maintaining his privacy. If it's at all possible, do you think everyone could forget that both Riley and I are here?" When the concierge's brows rose further, Nathan continued. "My father and mother were in the midst of a nasty divorce, before the air crash. That already was in the society pages of the newspaper. Y'see, my father owns one of the city's largest construction companies, and my mother was big in Atlanta social circles. Now, with Mother's death, the news hounds are going to be out in force, trying to put a human angle on everything and anything. Father sent me out of town to spare my brother and me from as much of it as he could. Dad asked me to lay low for a while, and stay out of the limelight." Nathan grinned, turning on the charm. "Riley's good at fading into the background. I'm not." Bailey grinned as Mister Witherspoon did his best to control his look of incredulity. He could almost imagine the older man's outraged squawk. 'If you think your brother's good at fading into the background, I cannot imagine what you must be like!' Instead of voicing his fears, the concierge dryly smiled, acknowledging Bailey's grin with a flick of a glance. "Seems to me, Mister Wilkins here, had a young man staying with him for a while, but that was quite some time ago. Blond, he was, and very short. Other than that young man, Mister Wilkins lives alone, and he's gone much of the time. Big time traveler, y'know?" The concierge grinned, conspiratorially, and cocked an eyebrow, asking if that story would suffice. Nathan shook the man's hand. "I appreciate it, sir." "I'll notify anyone else who might know of your brother's presence. Ahem . . . ," he glanced in Bailey's direction, "In the meantime, you might have Mister Wilkins explain to you precisely how successful your brother is at . . . fading into the background. Personally speaking, I have never found his presence . . . calming." "It's about time we all have a good laugh," Bailey grinned, promising Nathan the story, with a squeeze of his shoulder. "I'm sure Riley'll do his best to be more . . . calming, in the future." "We wouldn't want him to try to be something he's not," the older man said, with a dry expression, turning to Nathan. "You see, your brother is what one might call a free spirit . . . I'm not." He shot Bailey a quelling glance. "My position doesn't offer the opportunity for levity," the man murmured, delicately clearing his throat. "Your brother's behavior, and my reaction to it, has demonstrated to me that perhaps I should endeavor not to be so . . . stodgy." He tipped an imaginary cap, ending the conversation, then smartly turned and walked away. "Oh . . . my," Bailey exhaled, turning to Nathan. "You have no idea how momentous those comments are." "Nice guy," Nathan grinned, watching the man cross the lobby. "Like he says though, he needs to learn to loosen up." Nathan turned to Bailey, and continued, in all seriousness. "I had a friend, just like him . . . Ol' Tony . . . excuse me . . . Antoine." Nathan shook his head in amused recollection. "Poor guy was so serious, he considered quitting school 'cause of recess. He was eight years old!" Nathan hefted the heaviest of his two bags, and gestured for Bailey to take the smaller one. As they crossed the lobby, Nathan continued. "Crazy, Antoine. Somethin' must'a happened t'him, over the years, 'cause, last I heard, he was a famous drag queen in New Orleans, now going by the name, Antoinette, entertaining the troops, or whatever. Y'know the type? Two shows nightly, plus a matinee on Sunday?" "What?" Bailey barked. "You're kidding!" Nathan shook his head, as they stood, waiting for the elevator. "I never could imagine ol' Antoine in a dress. I mean, if he'd been two inches taller, he would'a been round." The corners of Nathan's lips twitched at Bailey's appalled expression. "Yeah," Nathan continued, warming to his story, and clearly enjoying a receptive audience. "He was a looker all right. Still, I find it hard to imagine him in high heels, wearin' a slinky sequined outfit, or somethin'. Prob'ly makes him look a lot like a sparkly barrel, on pegs." "No!" Bailey guffawed. "You're making that up!" Nathan's smile finally broke through. "Good story, though, don't y'think?" he asked, nodding in answer to his own question. The two men stepped into the elevator. "Earlier this evening, Riley was saying we needed Corey here, to interject some humor to lighten today's grim news," Bailey chuckled. "We have you instead. I love it!" "Corey?" Nathan asked. "Does he look good in sequins?" "I wouldn't know. However, he's a killer in a tight Polo shirt. He was Riley's and my boyfriend." "Uuuu, a three-way relationship. Kinky." Nathan's perfect smile gleamed, and his brown eyes sparkled in the light of the elevator. "No. I've failed to explain myself. He was Riley's boyfriend first, then mine, now Jonah's. He's a sweetheart. Corey, not Jonah." Bailey paused. "That didn't come out right. They're both sweethearts, but I was talking about Corey . . . the one who likes to show off his muscles, as they flex beneath a tight shirt. When Jonah flexes, everyone focuses on his crotch." "Lucky guy," Nathan murmured. "I'll say! And, he can keep it hard too . . . without a cock ring or anything. Truly amazing." Nathan grinned. "I was talking about Corey being lucky to be loved by three people." His smile faded, as the elevator door opened onto another plush lobby, and he was that much closer to facing his brother. "Most everyone is happy to be loved by one person other than their folks, and brothers, n'all. Your friend Corey's been loved by three." There was a long pause. "I'm envious." Bailey studied the serious young man, so different than the person who had told about his friend, Antoinette, only moments earlier. "Nathan," he murmured. "You must remember. You are eighteen. When Corey was your age he'd been loved by nobody, not his mother or father, or siblings, or anyone else. He'd never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend. He was very, very lonely. You, at least, have your brother and father. A person to love you, other than family, will come along. Give it some time." Nathan bowed his head, absently twisting the straps of his bag with a hand. "Yeah, you're right. It's just . . . I'm sort'a lonely, too, even with two people who love me. Know-what-I-mean? It felt so good for you to hold me, back at the airport. I could get used to someone doing that, full time." Nathan warily studied the closed apartment door. "Ummm, I guess I'd better see how m'brother's doing." Bailey touched his arm. "First though. Is the story about the news media the official reason you're here?" Nathan shifted his bag on his shoulder and sighed. "Yeah . . . I'm guessin' it's as good a story as any. It's easier than telling folks Dad wanted me out of town because some henchmen Mother might have hired, are out to kill me. Somehow, that sort'a freaks folks out, causin' 'em to run screaming into the night." He grinned. "I'm never gonna find someone to care about me, with that story hangin' over my head, that's for sure. So . . . yeah, let's stick with the news media. That makes me a celebrity, not a target." * * * 'Owen!' Bailey said, to himself, his eyes wide. Nathan was upstairs, at Riley's side. 'I've been so distracted, I've not called Owen! He's going to be wondering if we got home okay. Oh, and Mother and Father, too." He steeled himself, knowing Owen did not handle this type of thing well. 'Even though he's only met Riley, it'd be just like him to want to be here to be at his new friend's side. Besides, I hate having to give him bad news, so closely on the heels of his happiness, but it wouldn't be right of me to hide the news from him.' He dialed the number, and, after only a single ring, Owen answered. "Yo, Bailey!" Owen almost shouted. "I saw your name on the caller ID. Did you guys get back safe and sound? How was the flight? Are things okay? Sam and Jonah are here with me. We were just wondering how things were going. We expected you'd be calling before now." Sam looked up at Owen's sudden quiet, and nudged Jonah. "Something's wrong," he murmured. "Okay," Owen said. "Thanks for calling and letting us know. Give him our best, will 'ya? I wish I could be there . . . y'know, just to hold his hand, or something. Take good care of him for us." There was a long pause, while Owen listened. "Yeah, we'll all be okay. Corey's over at the school, and Lucas is in Evanston. I'll relay the news to both of 'em. You've got enough on your mind. Thanks, Bailey. Take care of yourself, and give Riley a hug for all of us, okay?" "What's happened?" Sam asked, the moment Owen tapped the 'end call' icon and set the phone down. Jonah stood behind his brother and wrapped him in a loose embrace, lending his support, while Sam had taken his hand. Owen's face had the same look as when he'd returned from Evanston, after witnessing the death of his father. "Owen?" Jonah coaxed. Owen glanced over his shoulder, acknowledging his brother's support, and squeezed Sam's hand. "Um . . . Riley's mom, his older brother, his sister-in-law, and Riley's older sister were all killed in a plane crash. Apparently, there was real bad fog when they were landing in Germany. There was some sort of confusion, from the guys controlling landings n'all, and their plane ran into another one, as it landed. Seems as if the other plane had turned onto the wrong runway and they hit head-on. No one survived." His tone was almost disconsolate. "All those people . . . " "How's Riley?" Jonah asked, tightening his embrace, and rested his head on his brother's shoulder. "Um . . . Bailey said he's sort'a in shock n'all. He's laying down. Bailey's trying to handle everything, but he's sort'a freaked by all that's going on. He just got back to his place, after picking up Riley's younger brother, Nathan." Owen took an unsteady breath, taking comfort in his brother's touch, as well as Sam's steadying presence. "Nathan and Riley's dad were supposed to be on that plane, but Bailey said there was a big fight involving Riley's mom just before they were supposed to leave for the airport, and Riley's brother n'dad decided to stay behind." Owen heaved a sigh. "At least the entire family wasn't wiped out. Bailey told me Riley didn't get along well with his mother or brother or sister, but that doesn't matter at a time like this." * * * "Hellooo," Nathan called, in a soft voice, from the top of the stairs, leading to the balcony-like bedroom. "Are you awake?" When his brother grunted an answer, he crossed to the bedside. Riley was laying on his back, naked, half-covered by the twisted sheets. "Hi," Riley murmured, without opening his eyes, sensing his brother's presence at the side of the bed. "Sorry, but the welcoming party's been cancelled. I sent the naked party-boys home." He opened his eyes, gave his brother's hand a squeeze, then, once again, covered his eyes with a forearm, blocking out the lights from the nearby high rise buildings, which would normally have made the view out of the vast expanse of windows magical. Nathan sat on the edge of the bed and rested a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "Too bad. Dancing boys might have livened things up a bit. Naked, you say?" "Why don't I feel anything?" Riley asked, moving his arm and looking at his brother. "I mean, there's this big void where normally I keep my emotions. I don't feel anything! I'm not devastated, or even mildly sad. I'm not happy. I'm just . . . nothing. It's as if I've been told that the pet goldfish of some child in Outer Mongolia, has been eaten by the household cat. I feel . . . nothing. It's as if I'm empty." "Shock?" Riley snorted. "That lasted for about 10 minutes. I did a bit of shouting, which scared the poor Gen'rl to death, then . . . nothing." "Gen"rl?" "Bailey." Riley's mouth twisted into a wan smile. "He's good 'bout taking charge and telling people what they need to do. I need that sometimes . . . being told what to do. Like now, for instance. "What about you? How're you doing?" Nathan shrugged, continuing to absently rub his brother's shoulder and chest, as Riley scooted closer. "Dunno. I'm sorry all those folks on the planes lost their lives, but I guess I'm like you. I don't feel much 'bout Kirby, Lisa, Wanda, and Mother dying. My lack of feeling isn't bothering me much, though. "What is bothering me is being shipped off like a child, 'cause Dad's afraid she might have arranged to have you n'me killed. I don't understand that thinking. I mean, we were supposed to be on that plane with her. It doesn't make sense for Dad to send me away. Y'think she really wanted us dead?" Nathan asked, sounding like a little boy, seeking reassurance. Riley turned onto his stomach, snuggling close, and resting an arm over his brother's lap, wordlessly asking for the comforting massage to continue. "I don't know what she thought of you," Riley continued, as Nathan began rubbing his brother's bare back with a soothing touch. "I haven't been around enough to get a feel for that. I'd take Father's word, though. If he's afraid she had plans for you, I'd believe him. He's not one to jump at shadows. In fact, it's just the opposite. Before he does anything, he usually thinks everything through. "As for me, though, I'm confident she had her sights on me. She always did think I was worthless. Still . . . there's a big difference between being worthless, and being worth killing. What'd I do to her?" Nathan snorted. "You're alive. You never were someone she could control. You challenged her authority, and, you were not taken in by all of her delusions of grandeur, and, to top it all off, you're gay." "Okay, okay. So, you've figured out why she hates me. What about you? Why would she have you in her sights?" "I'm basically just like you." "You're gay?" Riley looked over his shoulder, mouth twisting into a grin. "No," Nathan responded, then paused. "At least, I don't think so. I don't have any desires to do anything with a guy, but I'm not much turned on by girls either. Think I should consider becomin' a monk?" "What do you think about when you jack off?" Nathan thought a moment, then turned a mischievous grin on his brother. "Me, mostly." "How sexy you are, you mean?" Riley snickered, twisting to look at his brother. "You mean, you think so, too?" Nathan laughed. "I sort'a get off on watching myself." He lowered his voice. "I'm a sad second to watching you, though." "Huh?" Riley rolled onto an elbow. "You've never seen me beat off, have you?" "Uh," Nathan's mischievous grin turned sheepish. "Yeah, a few times. Watching you was way better'n watching myself, let me tell you. Compared with you, I'm the ugly stepson," he laughed. "At least I'm not a starched shirt, like Kirby." Both Nathan and Riley's smile faded. "Yeah, like Kirby," Riley murmured, then heaved a sigh. "Thank you Nathan. Just touching me, like you have been, has made me feel better. Even with Bailey takin' care of me, I felt, I don't know . . . alone. Now that you're here, I know I'm not. And, what's this nonsense about being the ugly stepson? Apparently you don't look in the mirror. You n'I look a lot alike, and naked we're almost identical . . . our dicks, I mean. We could be twins, unless you've done some growing since I saw it last. From a gay guy's point of view, you're drop dead cute." "F'real? I don't have your eyes, or smile, or stuff." "No, you have your own. Stop comparing yourself with me, or anyone else. Take it from me. You're cute. You've got a great smile. Your eyes tell everyone how much you love laughing. You've got a wonderful body . . . cute face, flat stomach, round butt, thick dick. Oh, and those hands of yours give me the shivers, they're so warm and sensitive. They're just like you. Should I go on?" Nathan shook his bowed head. "Well," he hesitated. "I guess not. Save whatever you were gonna say, for sometime when I need a little pep talk, okay? . . . And . . . thanks." He looked up, his smile reappearing. "So . . . do I get to watch you beat off whenever I want?" he asked, using humor to soothe both his and his brother's raw emotions. "Anytime you want," Riley grinned. "For all I care, you can also watch Bailey n'me. Or . . . you could join us. Y'see, I've recently found that I like having an audience while I'm having sex." "You have!? When? Where? Who was watching? How'd you find that out? Geez, that'd be freakin' cool. Better even than watching you shoot a load." "Neither one of us wants to talk about . . . family, do we? That's why we're talking about sex stuff. It's safe." Nathan bowed his head. "Yeah, I guess. It's gonna take a while for it all to sink in, isn't it?" "Prob'ly," Riley said, doing his best to sound lighthearted, "but, the Pruitt brothers can handle anything . . . can't we?" In response, Nathan sniffed and nodded, not meeting his brother's eyes. "Thanks Riley. I . . . I . . . love you, you know." Riley scooted to the edge of the bed and hugged his brother. "And, I love you. Now, I'd better grab a shower and make myself presentable, then go downstairs. Bailey's probably all antsy, wanting to know how things are going up here. Besides," Riley laughed. "Suddenly, I'm hungry." * * * "Owen! Listen to me . . . please!" Lucas spoke with raised voice, then, as he was accustomed to doing, began to pace. "No!" Lucas added, slouching down into the chair, and leaning his head back. "You can not do anything from there, just as I can do nothing from where I am. Besides, you've just been given a big new responsibility. You can't just pick up and leave, no matter the reason. Bailey'll tell Riley how badly you feel about what happened. When he's up to it, I'm sure Riley'll give you a call." Lucas' softened his voice. "Really, Cowboy. You understand, surely." He listened a moment, then laughed. "Yeah, tell me about it. I know how much you hate sitting still when someone is hurting. But, trust me, Riley's in good hands. You taught Bailey well. He'll be able to take care of Riley's needs." He paused. "His brother's also there to help out. So . . . Riley's in good hands." "Yeah," he attempted to laugh. "I'm always right. You remember that, because I'm sure to use your words against you, at some future date." There was a pause while Lucas listened. "Yeah, I'm doing okay. I've just got so much on my mind. I'm exhausted." He snorted a laugh. "I'm guessing I miss having you guys in bed with me." He yawned. "I've got a meeting with Hank McCorkle, ol' Clyde's father, in a couple hours. Then, I'm off for a six hour drive to meet with some trucking company representatives, who, I'm hoping, will agree to be our distributors. "I miss you, Owen, you n'Sam." He listened as Owen spoke. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I love you, too, Cowboy. Give Sam a kiss for me, will 'ya? I'll keep you informed." He pushed the button ending the call, and immediately dialed his parents' phone number. "Is everything alright?" his mother asked, answering the phone. "It's not like you to call only a day after we've seen you." "Owen and the guys are okay, Mother," he said, vowing to keep the conversation short. "Riley's not okay, though." Lucas took a deep breath. "Most of his family was killed in an airplane accident in Germany. His father and younger brother are the only ones left. Bailey called Owen, and he called me. I'm still in Evanston. Owen, of course, wants to run to Riley's side, but I managed to persuade him he has to stay in Riverton and tend to the library, and help out Sam and Jonah." Lucas thought a moment. "Geez, I hate to think how Corey's gonna take this. He and Riley are still very close. They practically lived together during all of college." "Bailey is with Riley?" Olivia asked. "They're here in the city?" "Yeah. You'll remember that Riley was planning to catch a plane for Germany, to be with his family, the moment he and Bailey returned from Riverton." Olivia made an affirmative sound. "Well, Riley's younger brother contacted him immediately before Riley and Bailey were to board the plane back home, and told him that there'd been some sort of family fight, and that he and his father were not going to Germany with everyone else. Nathan, that's Riley's younger brother, urged Riley to do likewise, and asked if he could come up to visit, since his father was going to be knee deep in business matters. Owen also said Mister Pruitt is afraid of something. He wanted Nathan out of town to protect him, and is insistent no one reveal where his sons are." "That's strange," Olivia drawled, puzzled. "I wonder why he would do something like that. One would think he would want his sons with him, at a time like this." Lucas snorted. "I don't know. Riley always was a little unusual. I don't know a thing about his brother, or his family, but maybe the rest of the family was more than unusual." "Unusual?" Olivia asked. "He seemed perfectly normal to me." "No one's told me this, but I believe he's afraid of money, Mother . . . afraid it'll make him a person he doesn't want to know. Normally, he wears second hand clothes. Until he began seeing Bailey, he was living in a beat up apartment, which was in keeping with his car. Bailey had a hand in how he looked during his trip to Riverton. Riley's dead-set against having anything to do with his father's business. He calls himself a rebel. I call him mixed up. Mixed up in a good sort of way," Lucas laughed. "Eccentric might be a better way of describing him. He doesn't know what he wants to do, yet he graduated at the top of his class, both in Business and in Computer Engineering. He's an absolute whiz with anything electronic. "Those degrees of his should provide him with enough options. I'd do anything to have him working with me. He'd really help with the workload. Whether the man even realizes it or not, he is a genius . . . someone Dad would jump at the chance to hire. That wasn't a hint, by the way, just a statement of fact. If Bailey decides to go out on his own with that regional transport company he's thinking about, and Riley decides to join him, Riley will make sure the business succeeds. "Anyhow, when Riley and Bailey landed at the airport, Riley had a couple text messages; one from his brother, letting him know when he'd be arriving, and another from his father, wanting him to call home, immediately. That's when Riley found out what had happened." Lucas heaved a sigh. "Owen said that Bailey told him Riley was totally withdrawn, curled up on their bed." "Shock at the news," Olivia surmised. "From what I understand, Riley and his mother were never close, but still . . ." Lucas heaved a sigh. "Listen, Mother, I hate to cut this short, but I've got a meeting with someone about the grocery store, in a few minutes, and I have to get my thoughts in order." "Of course, dear. Call me, when you have any news to impart." "Of course. Love you, Mother. Tell Dad, the same goes for him, okay?" * * * Nathan followed his naked brother into the bathroom. 'Damn,' he thought. 'I wonder if he really likes having an audience while he's having sex. I'd watch! In fact, I could get into guys, if everyone looked like him.' 'He's changed,' Nathan thought, as he leaned against the bathroom counter watching his brother shave. 'We do resemble one another. He's more . . . toned than me, and his legs have a little more hair, but, he's right, our dicks are twins.' Nathan blinked in surprise as he experienced an unexpected thrill surge through his groin. 'He even clips his pubes, like me.' Riley glanced toward his brother, wearing a crooked grin. "You're kind'a getting off by watching me, aren't you? What's changed? You never used to do that, when Father, you, and I hung out, watching football games n'stuff." Nathan shrugged. "Nothing's changed. I'm just thinking how sexy you are. When you're lookin' at a guy, what is it you notice first? What's the biggest turn-on for you? I'm noticing how great your butt is. Some guys I've seen in the gym, are all flat. You're not. You've got some meat back there. No wonder you look so good in a pair of slacks. Riley leaned into the large shower enclosure and adjusted the temperature of the water, then turned and studied his brother as the water warmed. "My butt, huh?" Riley asked turning his back to the vanity mirror then looking over his shoulder so he could see his butt. "Not bad," he admitted. Me, I look at hands first, butts second. You, for instance, have the sexiest hands I've ever seen, bar none." He grinned. "Those hands are going to make someone very happy. Did you know I got hard, just from you rubbing my back, a while ago?" Nathan grinned, holding his hands out and turning them back and forth, as if looking for something special. "Awesome," he smiled, displaying a blindingly white smile. "All I was doing was rubbing you." Riley leaned against the glass of the shower and crossed his arms and smiled, the steaming water temporarily forgotten. "The rest of the package ain't too bad, either." Nathan felt himself blush. Riley had never spoken to him, as he was now. He wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed, or flattered. 'Mister Perfect is giving me a compliment!' "Y'ever kiss a guy?" Riley asked, tilting his head slightly and grinning, his pale green eyes sparkling. "What? No. Why are you asking?" Nathan gave his brother an over-the-glasses look. "You're not gonna suggest we kiss each other, are you? I'm not kissing either you or Bailey. He's a nice guy, but I don't wanna kiss him just 'cause he's nice." Nathan shuddered. "Major weirdness . . . kissing my brother." Riley laughed. "What about a girl?" "Yeah, I've kissed a couple," Nathan responded, trying not to squirm. "Both times, I was kind'a clumsy about it, and got embarrassed, so I never tried again." He paused. "The absence hasn't been any hardship. Why all this sudden interest in my sex life?" "We haven't talked about your sex life. We've been talking about you kissing someone." Riley's tone changed slightly, and Nathan noticed his brother's penis had begun to thicken. "Kissing is one of the things I enjoy most. Hell, I can shoot, never touching myself, just kissing a guy." He grinned, nodding to his cock. "I was just thinking about what it'd be like to kiss, um, a guy like you, with hands like yours." He grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed it to a full erection. "What a fantasy!" "Y'really think I'm that good?" Nathan asked, finding it difficult to tear his eyes away from his brother's erection. "Just take a look! I don't get rock hard, looking at just any guy . . . especially ones who are fully clothed. Yep, you're a hot one." Riley turned, a moment before stepping into the steaming shower. "Changing the subject though. I have to ask. You didn't tell Father where you were heading, did you?" "No." Nathan pried off his shoes, then hoisted himself onto the bathroom vanity and crossed his legs. "I did as you asked. He knows I contacted you, but that's it. He doesn't know where I'm going." Riley seemed to relax, as he stepped into the steaming shower. Nathan raised his voice, to be heard over the water spray. "You and Dad have had some sort of arrangement, for years, haven't you?" Nathan leaned forward, and studied his brother . . . his pale skin, showing off the dark, trimmed, pubic patch, and the muscular buttocks. Nathan tore his eyes away from the ass cheeks which parted as Riley leaned forward inviting his attention. "Yeah, we've had an agreement," Riley said, as he washed his feet. 'Damn!' Nathan adjusted himself. 'He's deliberately showing off. First, he gets hard, then he spreads his cheeks, showing me his asshole. I've never seen another guy's hole before!' Riley straightened, and shook his head, sending water droplets flying. "When I left home, Father and I talked about Mother n'me, and I told him of my . . . fears. At first, he didn't understand why I wanted to keep my location a secret from everyone. After thinking about it for a few days, he decided to go along with my wishes. Y'know, even he doesn't know, for sure, where I am. "If he really thought about it, considering my relationship with Bailey, he should be able to figure things out. I mean, he's become good friends with George, Bailey's father, and I'm guessing he knows where George lives, especially since Father's new attorneys were recommended by George. "Bailey's convinced his father to not even hint that the two of 'em live in the same city." Riley shook his head in disbelief. "I've always thought I was being way-paranoid. I knew Mother hated me; I just never expected she'd want to kill me. She always looked at me with a calculating look, as if I were a horse, or something, she was thinking of buying. I didn't want any part of her or the high drama of her life. "If she had known what was going to happen to her, on that runway in Berlin, I imagine she would have been pleased at the dramatic exit she'd be making. She'd prob'ly also be wondering which Hollywood actress would play her part in an Academy Award winning role, describing Mother's life." "That's Mother, alright," Nathan laughed, as he watched his brother rinse off. "Always the victim . . . always the star." * * * "Men!" Daniel called, from the bottom of the stairs to the two apartments. "Bea and I have some great news! Hurry up and come down or . . ." Daniel's voice trailed into silence when he saw the look on Owen, Jonah, and Sam's face, as they left the apartment. "What is it?" Bea anxiously asked, as the three men approached. "What's happened? Is Corey okay? Lucas?" she added, grasping her husband's hand. * * * Agnes, Gustav Winton's personal secretary, diffidently knocked on the door, then opened it only far enough to look inside. Her face was blanched. "Mister Winton," she said. "I know you said you were not to be disturbed, but . . ." Gustav Winton, the head of what had formerly been one of the most prestigious law firms in Atlanta, spoke without looking up. "Yes, Agnes. This is important?" "Um, yes sir." "Well, spit it out." "You'd better answer line one yourself. I don't want to go near it." With those words, she closed the door, leaving her boss to look at the balefully blinking red button on the telephone. "Yes, what is it?" he grumbled, as he mashed the button and held the phone to his ear. "Hello, Gustav, dear," the woman's voice purred. "What? Who is this?" he asked, cursing his shaking voice. "Is this some sort of practical joke?" "Oh . . . it's no joke, I assure you." "But . . . you're dead! Nothing but a pile of ashes." "No, Gustav, I am not."
"But . . . but . . ." "Now stop sputtering and start acting like a person with a backbone. I would have expected you to be able to think of something more to say than, but, but," the voice on the other end of the telephone line sneered. "Tell me what is going on? What's happening? I'm at the airport, and am going to disappear for a while, but first I need to know . . ." Gustav convulsively swallowed. "So . . . you somehow managed to escape your fate," he interrupted. "That's too bad. I have spent the past few days, since learning of the accident, envisioning you burned to a crisp, along with those bastards of yours. Oh, excuse me. They're not the bastards in the family, are they?" he snidely chuckled. "Now, instead of perishing in flaming misery, as I so dearly hoped, it appears that you've come back, believing that you can still rattle off orders, left and right. As if you haven't already caused enough problems. You're probably hoping to finish the job of ruining my company. The FBI has stripped us bare! Do you hear me? Bare!" he cried, his voice rising as he spoke. "Our accounts are frozen . . . our computers have been confiscated, you name it! I can't even pay my employees! All because you weren't able to control that husband of yours. Oh, you're so smart. Everything is under control. Like HELL it is. "What's it feel like to be on the run, Miss High-And-Mighty? Oh, and I forgot . . . you're not only on the run, you're . . . poor?" "I am not poor. I have resources even you don't know about! Now, shut up. I want you to implement Plan A. I'll pay you to take care of the two boys, and Franklin. I don't care how you do it, as long as they end up dead." "And, how, pray-tell, are you going to pay me to do your dirty work? I don't work on credit, you know." "You'll be paid, so stop sniveling. Get Nathan first. He should be the easiest, since he lives at home. He's the one that started this whole thing. Yes, kill him first." "According to my source, over at Pruitt House, Nathan's gone . . . left town, to parts unknown. Franklin sent him off, the same day you left. So . . . my dear, no one knows where either Riley or Nathan are." "He left? What? Your source?" Elizabeth sputtered. "How . . . how long . . . ?" Gustav laughed. "That's right, Missy. We've always known about everything that happened over there. In fact, we still do. Oh, and there are a few things our . . . source . . . has told us about, which you might find interesting. One: You and Franklin are no longer husband and wife. Two: All of your possessions, down to your make-up cases, paintings, wardrobe, and silverware, have been carted off, to be destroyed or given to charity. There is nothing of yours left over there, except, possibly . . ." "What?! How dare he! My possessions . . ." "Gone," Gustav chortled, "along with your bank accounts, credit cards, real estate . . . everything. I imagine some Welfare family is eating tonight on your gold-rimmed china, pouring a cold beer into a crystal goblet, or using your silverware to pry open a bottle top, or feed the family pet." Gustav's chuckle became an evil laugh. "You always did detest both animals and poor people, didn't you, my dear?" "He wouldn't!" "He did. Your memory is being erased. It's too bad the real thing couldn't be wiped off the face of the earth, as easily. "Now, about your two youngest sons . . ." "It's simple," Elizabeth snapped. "Find them! Kill them, then . . . kill Franklin. I'd like to know when it's going to occur, so I can watch." * * * "Hey, Sam!" Lucas shouted into the phone, amazed at how much he missed hearing his lover's voice. "How's one of my two favorite men in the whole world?" "Doin' great!" Sam responded. "Your other favorite man is sprawled on his stomach, on the floor, mooning the ceiling, and reading a book." Sam held the phone toward Owen. "Say 'hi' to Lucas, Owen." "Hi to Lucas, Owen!" Owen shouted, as he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow. "Come home! Sammy and I miss your cooking. Our bed feels empty without the three of us in it!" "He sounds in good spirits," Lucas laughed. "I'm surprised, after he was so intent on leaving, to be at Riley and Bailey's side. Is he just pretending?" Sam wandered from the living room to the dining room, ending up in the bedroom. "No, I don't think so. He's just put that mask of his back on. You know, the one in which he laughs and jokes, to hide his vulnerabilities. He doesn't even realize he's wearing it. "We did have a bit of good news, though. Bea and Daniel came by the other day. Bea's pregnant . . . with twins! Daniel is beside himself. He's practically goin' door to door, telling everyone he's gonna be a father. You'd think Owen had some part in the whole thing. He's acting almost as crazy 'bout it as Daniel. "To get back to your question, though. Even with the good news about the babies, Owen's concerned about Bailey and Riley, just like we all are. The main problem is that he's had a run-in with Maxine. She gave him a piece of her mind, over at the library. The whole thing has freaked the poor guy out, which means, the past couple nights have been rough." "The nightmares?" Sam nodded. "Yeah, bad ones. He's always had his melancholy moments, but lately . . . ," Sam sighed, "They're getting worse. There's some sort of dark fear of his which lies just below the surface. No matter what he does, it's always there." "His father's the cause of all this, isn't he?" Lucas asked. Sam puffed a breath. "I'm afraid so. I thought once the guy died, Owen would be free of him. If anything, though, he's worse off with the old man dead. Lucas, I knew that man, and I was aware of some of what Owen was suffering at his hands. Come to find out, I knew of only a small part of it all, and, you know, I don't think anyone, even Jonah, knows the whole story. I don't want to know, unless talkin' about it would help Owen out. For that, I would do anything. Owen did mention that he spoke with Nicky about some of his thoughts 'cause he was safe. I'm not exactly sure what that's supposed to mean, and I didn't ask because something more went on, which he isn't talking about. He came home, changed into his running stuff, then went out on a humongous run. When he came back home, he took a shower, kissed me good night, and curled up on his side and lay there wide-awake. "Oh," Sam laughed. There is some good news. We had this monster storm blow through the other night. I was over at Mom and Dad's, and when it finally stopped raining long enough for me to make it home, I found Jonah and Owen having sex." "Really! I'm glad they finally worked up enough nerve to do it. I've been afraid Jonah's balls would turn blue, he's been wanting to, so badly. So, what'd you do . . . leave 'em to it, and go read a book, or something?" "No," Sam laughed. "I watched them, from the stair landing. Damn, but it was a fantasy-come-true for me. Turns out they knew I was there, all the time . . . the showoffs." "Very cool. I can see it now. On the floor, in front of the fireplace, I'd bet. That'd be just like Owen." "Got it, in one!" "Damn!" Lucas sighed. "That would have been so awesome to see." "I tell you. I haven't seen many instances of romance, like I did between those guys. Hell, I'm hard, right now, just thinking about it." "Geez, Sam, I'm lonely without you and Owen nearby . . . not only because I miss the sex, but I . . . I just don't know how to behave when neither of you are around. I miss the laughing and joking, and having you both at my side when I'm sleeping." "And we miss you. Owen carries on as if you've been gone a year, or something." Sam laughed. "He 'bout scared me t'death, this morning. We were in the shower, and he suddenly bellows, at the top of his lungs. "I miss Lucas! Then, he apologized 'cause I might have thought he meant he wished you were in the shower with him instead of me. You know Owen. I playfully scowled at him and Lucas . . . he flinched, like I was gonna hit him, or something. It took a while to convince him I was only playing. "So, how'd your meetings go? Y'got everything in place to start that new store of yours?" Lucas laughed. "Far from it. This news about Maxine has me wondering if a new store is such a good idea, after all. She's already singled us guys out as targets. I don't want to spur her into doing anything worse than she already has. Once she finds out what I'm planning, I'm thinking none of us will be safe. She'll want to take vengeance, I'm sure." "Maybe, but none of us can stop living, just 'cause we're afraid of what Maxine's gonna do. From listening to Mom and Dad, the ol' girl has been a thorn in everyone's side since she was a kid. Lucas, together we can stand up to her. It'll only be a matter of time before you've recruited Bailey and Riley into your business ventures. With them, plus Corey and Jonah, we can get through anything . . . Owen's nightmares, Maxine . . . anything." Lucas thought a moment. "You're right! We're brothers. We stick together." * * * "Mister Pruitt?" "Yesss." Franklin Pruitt steeled himself for bad news. 'Anyone who calls, using that tone of voice, is going to tell me something I don't want to hear,' he told himself. Before the caller could continue, Franklin asked his Personal Secretary, Rolf, and Elsie, one of the house servants, who was in the process of serving coffee, to give him a few moments alone. "I'm sorry, but I need to take this call in private," he said, by way of explanation. "Would you see that the movers are paid, Rolf? I'll be with you shortly, then we can have our coffee." Both nodded and silently left, closing the door behind them. "This is Agent Melendez," the man on the telephone announced, once Franklin was alone. "May we speak freely?" "Yes, my Personal Secretary and one of my servants have left the room." "Very good, sir. I am calling today because we have evidence showing that your wife was not a victim in the airplane accident in Berlin. She is, in fact, in Atlanta." "What?! How is this possible? Elizabeth . . . in Atlanta? Now? What about my children? Do you know anything about them?" "No, sir, I'm sorry. We learned about your wife's presence in the city through a Court-approved wire tap of the Gustav Winton law firm's telephone system. Mrs. Pruitt contacted Mister Winton, asking for information, and issuing a string of orders, claiming she has financial resources with which to pay Mister Winton. Her claims may, of course, prove to be false. We are in the process of investigating." "A wire tap? A court granted its approval?" "Yes, sir. We have been monitoring their calls since we took on the case." "She called Gustav? Why?" "She wanted information, mostly. She has also instructed him to . . . ahem . . ." "Go on," Franklin said, an icy chill beginning to engulf him. "She ordered him to locate your two youngest sons, and . . . kill them, then you." "Kill Riley and Nathan? Aw fuck!" Franklin flopped onto one of the study's leather arm chairs, and sank into the embrace of its cushions. The Agent gave Franklin a few moments to compose himself and calm his breathing. "What do you recommend I do? I don't know where the boys are. I don't see how Elizabeth or Gustav, or any of their hirelings, can possibly locate them. My son, Riley, has always feared his mother, and has gone to great pains to conceal his location during the last four years, while he's been at college. When Elizabeth left for Germany, I sent Nathan away, with instructions to not tell me where he would be going. I can only assume he and his brother have been in communication with one another, but . . . ," Franklin paused, wondering if he should continue. "I'm not even certain they are together," he finished. "Riley has always been so concerned about his mother's behavior, I don't believe he would have wanted to reveal his whereabouts, even to his brother. I have never known where Riley is. Now, Nathan is beyond my reach He picked his own destination, and did not tell me where he was heading." 'When did I start lying to the FBI?' Franklin asked himself. "Since all this started, I've become paranoid. If I don't know the boys' locations, I won't inadvertently let the information slip. I can't help but feel as if the house has ears." "I'm afraid, it does." Franklin heaved a great sigh. "Ah, Agent Melendez . . . perhaps you should tell me everything you know, rather than break things to me in a piecemeal fashion. I keep telling myself that things can't possibly get any worse, then you give me another tidbit of information. I would prefer to have it all at once, if you please." "Yes, sir. The wiretap has revealed that the Winton law firm has an . . . informer . . . in your house. I'm sorry to say, we don't know who it might be. . . .yet. I don't believe your wife was aware of the source, either. She was outraged when Mister Winton told her of the person." Franklin flopped backward, slouching into the cushions of the chair. "That's Elizabeth all right . . . motivated by nothing other than greed and vengeance. Agent Melendez, perhaps you should be aware that even if I am killed, Elizabeth will get none of my money. Since her departure, and subsequent . . . death, I have divorced her. I have also rewritten my will, and, just this morning, all of her possessions . . . everything she so much as showed an interest in, have been removed from the house . . . everything from her clothing, to the china she purchased, to the paintings on the wall, which she commissioned. Nothing remains. The majority of it all has been destroyed; the remainder given to charity. So . . . you see . . . my death might get her a bit of satisfaction, but she has nothing tangible to gain from it." "Nevertheless, sir, The Agency will be providing you with three agents, to provide you personal protection. It will be their job to be with you, at all times. These gentlemen will arrive at your house, immediately after a security firm has been chosen, and perimeter security personnel chosen. Do not repeat, aloud, any of what I have just said, in case you are being observed, and do not ever to anyone say that the men guarding you are provided by the Agency. All anyone need know, is that you have personally chosen these three men to guard your person. They should be added to your employee payroll, and treated as employees." "Um, okay. I would like to ask more, but okay." "I would recommend you also contract with a reputable security firm and retain other guards whose job it will be to secure your home and the surrounding property. Under no circumstances should these additional guards be allowed inside the house. Your personal agents will be given those orders, also. Please do not override their instructions. We have no idea what your ex-wife might do, or when a strike might occur. Speed is of the essence, sir. You must be protected. There are too many variables for either you or the Agency to keep track of. "We would also urge you to provide similar security for your sons." "Of . . . of course, but, as I said earlier, I have no idea where Riley and Nathan might be. They could easily be outside the country, for all I know. I seriously doubt I will be in contact with them, at least for several months. If I should be, I will relay your information to them. "Um, thank you for your call, Agent Melendez. I'll implement your suggestions, immediately." Behind Franklin, the door to the adjoining room silently closed.
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