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Micah anxiously paced across the apartment. "I can't be here for this," he complained, in the tension-thickened air, as he turned from his anxious pacing. "You can tell me, tomorrow, what your father said." He held out a hand, to prevent any argument. "You need to be able to speak candidly. You can't do that with me hanging around. Besides, what could I add to the discussion? This entire thing is going to be more of a shock for him than it was for either of you, or me. "You've got to remember, that he may see me as nothing more than a sorry reminder of his wife's infidelity. If such is the case, I don't want to have to listen to you try to convince him otherwise. He's suffered enough at the hands of that woman; he doesn't need any more grief. Don't argue with me, please. He's got enough on his mind without my existence adding more. "C'mon, Riley . . . Nathan," he said, turning to each of the brothers. "You know that having me out'a here when you talk to him is the right thing to do. Let's take this brother-thing a little bit at a time, okay? Tell your father what's going on; then we can go on from there." He grinned. "What am I going to have to do to get you to listen to your big brother?" Riley turned to Bailey. "I wondered when he would say that. It's only taken something like five . . . six hours? What's next? Will he challenge me to a wrestling match to see who's the alpha male?" Bailey consolingly patted Riley on the shoulder. "I hope not. You're sure to lose. Even I can beat you." "Hmm," Riley grumbled. "Then we'll have Nathan wrestle him." Bailey glanced to the two men in question. "I don't think that would work out, either. Not for the same reason, though," he said, as both Nathan and Micah blushed. "Why don't you just accept the big brother argument and let him go home?" "Well, I don't like that solution," Nathan grumbled, "but I understand your not wanting to be here. So . . . I've asked Mister Chen, here . . . um . . . Riley's guard, to give you a telephone number you can call, in case . . . well . . . in case you think you need it. Once Father learns of your existence, I'm sure he's going to want to provide for your safety; and, who knows? You might need it sooner, so here. Listen to your little brother. He doesn't want anything to happen to his new-found older brother." Nathan thrust the paper at Micah, then embraced him. "You take care of yourself, y'hear?" he murmured. "If Mother knows where to find you, you can be sure she'll try to do something. Be on the look out, okay? I . . . I don't want you taken from me . . . um . . . from Riley n'me, before I've even had a chance t'get to know you." Micah's mouth opened and closed, clearly moved by the warm embrace and his brother's words. Finally, unable to say anything, he jerked a nod, drew Nathan to him in a fierce hug, then turned, quickly left the apartment, and jogged to the elevator. Once inside, he bowed his head and willed himself not to break down. 'This is all too much! Two brothers, a man who's sure to be shocked to learn of my existence, and a homicidal mother, intent on killing everyone in her family. 'Strangely, all of those things pale in comparison to meeting Nathan. Are you the man I dreamt of?' he wondered, as he felt the elevator slow to a stop at the apartment building's lobby. 'My brother? Can I have a relationship with my brother? Half-brother,' his subconscious grumbled, 'and why are you running? You like him! He likes you! So . . . why are you running, and don't give me any crappy argument about not being around when they call Mister Pruitt; I know better! He would have welcomed you to stay with him tonight. In fact, the guards would have preferred it. You always run from a relationship, Micah,' he told himself. 'Why? 'What will Mister Pruitt say about Nathan and me having a relationship?' Micah angrily shouted to himself. 'First, he's going to be blown away, finding out that the man he knows as Micah Sutton is something else entirely different than some guy off the street, who happens to be working for him. The last thing he's gonna need is to find out that I'm lusting after one of his real sons. 'What am I to Mister Pruitt? I'll never be anything more than a weight around his neck, reminding him of his wife's infidelity. In fact, I should prob'ly start looking for another job. I'm sure he's not gonna want me in the office, much less serving as his Personal Assistant. Just 'cause Nathan likes me, and I like Nathan, doesn't mean anything. If Mister Pruitt tells Nathan, no, then that's it. So . . . why should I get all worked up about him? Sure, it feels so good when he holds me. Sure, he smells good. He's so gorgeous he makes me drool, but he's also my half-brother, and us having an intimate relationship will cause nothing but problems for his father.' If his subconscious could have barked a laugh, it would have. "You're a fool, Micah! What are you afraid of? Nathan? This is the opportunity to change your future you've been waiting for. If you don't change quick, you're gonna have to spend the rest of your days listening to me shout, "I want a new owner!'" * * * "Nathan?" Riley murmured, from across the room, a moment after Micah rushed out of the apartment. "You gonna be okay?" Nathan gulped a breath of air, silently nodded, and spoke through a tight throat. "She better not harm a hair on his head, or she's gonna have me to deal with! I swear, Riley. If she so much as touches him, she'll be the one doing the hiding, not me." "Nathan . . . please. Let's deal with the 'here and now,' and not speculate about what might happen, and how both of us might deal with it, okay?" Riley soothed. "Yeah, okay." Nathan turned to Scott Chen. "Is there some way to get a guard for him?" "If we're afraid Elizabeth is out to get Riley and Nathan, we can be equally sure she'll try for Micah," Bailey added, taking up Nathan's cause. "He's met the woman, Scott. I know it! He reacted to something I said today, at the cafe, and got all quiet. He wouldn't tell me what it was he was thinking, but I know he's met her." "Damn!" Nathan flung himself out of the chair he'd just collapsed into. "We've got to do something! Now! Before she does! Scott, please," he begged, one of the lead guard. "This is about more than me being horny for the guy. This is important!" "Easy, men!" Scott Chen said, briefly resting what he hoped was a comforting hand on Nathan's shoulder. "I can't personally assign a guard for him. The only person who can do that is your father, and, since he hasn't been told of Mister Sutton's relationship to the two of you . . ." his voice trailed off. "Once he learns of the young man's existence, I'm sure he'll insist on a guard." "We can't wait for Dad!" Nathan grumbled, as he stomped across the living room. "Micah needs protection now . . . tonight, not after Riley calls Father. Riley n'I'll pay for it. We just need to get someone out to his place. Once Dad learns what we've done, he can make everything official. Would that work? "Riley," Nathan turned. "We can pay for a guard, can't we? I mean, we have enough money to do that?" "If you can't, I can," Bailey interrupted. He turned to the guard. "After witnessing Micah's reaction to something I said, I believe, like Nathan, that he needs protection, now. He's met her, Scott! If I'm right, it means the woman knows where he lives, and if she's intent on killing him, there's nothing and no one standing between her and him. It'd be just like him to try to reason with her, hoping she might somehow become the mother he's always dreamt of." "Well, hell! I can see I'm not gonna get any sleep t'night," Nathan threw up his hands and grumbled, as he turned to leave the room. "Normally, when I'm feeling like this, I go for a run, but I'm willing to bet that's not allowed, right, Mario?" he groused. "And, since you have to watch my every action, I can't even have the satisfaction of behaving like a child and slamming my bedroom door!" He turned from Mario, stabbing Bailey with a baleful glance. "What are you smiling at? You volunteered to pay for a guard, so . . . do it!" He made a vague, demanding gesture to the world outside the apartment, then turned and clomped down the hallway. "The boy's got it bad," Mario murmured, to Riley and Bailey, as he turned to follow. * * * Riley puffed out his cheeks, exhaling slowly. "Well . . . now that that's settled, I guess I better call Father and bring him up to date, unless you think he might have already gone to bed," he added, giving Bailey a hopeful glance. "Call him." Bailey handed Riley his cell phone. "Everyone seems to think your father is going to react badly to the news of Micah's existence. I don't see why he would. So, call him. It's not going to be any easier to do tomorrow morning, and would only give you an entire night to fret over what he's going to say. "I'm staying," Bailey said, as he settled onto a dining room chair. "For moral support," he added, as Riley reluctantly dialed the number he'd been given by his father's security people. The man answered after a single ring. "Father . . ." Riley said, cursing the tremor in his voice. Bailey squeezed his shoulder, in the moment it took Franklin Pruitt to greet his son. "Yes, yes, everything is fine," he hastened to add, quelling his father's alarm. "Bailey's standing close by, and Nathan's in his room." He paused a moment while his father spoke. "Yeah, the guards are with Bailey n'me. Mario's down the hall, with Nathan. "Um . . ." he flicked an uneasy glance in Bailey's direction. "There's something I need to speak with you about." His eyes widened. "No, no . . . no one's attempted anything!" The elder Pruitt must have said something stern, because Riley began stammering. "Yes, um . . . yeah . . . there's something I need to tell you, and I'm not quite sure how . . . It's about the meeting we had at the attorney's office." Riley listened, taking quick shallow breaths, looking utterly miserable, as his father spoke. "Yes . . . the meeting was about the attorneys and the FBI sort'a finding out where some of the money . . . she . . . stole from the company, went." "Well?" Bailey could hear the exasperated tone in Franklin Pruitt's voice. "What else?" "Father, Mister Benham introduced Nathan, Bailey, and me to someone. Um . . . there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just blurt it out. "We have a half-brother." Riley gulped, then plunged on. "He . . . he . . . in order to make positively sure, is insisting he undergo a DNA test, which will prove, mostly for his benefit, that what the attorney has discovered is true. Nathan's convinced, as is Bailey." He hesitated. "I wasn't so sure, at first, but, now, I'm sure he is what the attorney claims. "Even I was easier to convince than he was. It . . . it was rough on him. He'd grown up believing his mother loved him and, for some reason, was unable to be at his side. Learning the truth changed everything, for him." Riley's voice cracked. "It was rough on him, and rough on . . . us, to watch. "Bailey . . . well, he was wonderful. I'm so proud of him." Bailey made a hurry up gesture, urging his partner to finish delivering the news. The other end of the telephone line had gone quiet, except for some rapid breathing, which only Riley could hear. When his father began to say something, Riley interrupted. "Wait . . . there's more," he said, taking a deep breath. "You already know the man. Through a series of circumstances, he's come to work in your office. In fact, you've mentioned him to Nathan and me, as being someone you admire . . ." Riley stopped to listen. "Yes . . . Micah." Riley's eyes widened, when there was no response. "Dad? Are you okay." Riley hurried on. "It seems that, during those two years you and that woman separated, she became . . . involved with a man named David Sutton, and had a child by him . . . Micah. She apparently gave the child over to David Sutton's parents to rear, but continued to send monthly checks to his grandparents for him. The attorneys aren't clear why she would have sent the checks. They have some ideas, but are still investigating them. They, like Nathan and I, doubt it's out of any maternal feeling for Micah. Of course, neither of us said that to him. "The attorney speculates that perhaps she was paying the grandparents to keep Micah's existence a secret, or something like that. I'd like to think they took Micah off of her hands, with the understanding that she'd pay for his welfare. They never spent a penny of the money, Dad. It's all in an account specifically listed as being his. It's doubtful we'll ever know the true story. Micah's has said if the money was from her, he's not entitled to it, and wants to give it back to you. "It was only after the grandparents' deaths that he discovered the bank account, and traced things from the bank to the Winton Firm, and finally to the new attorneys. He told his story to Mister Benham, your lead attorney, a few weeks ago. "Dad, Nathan and I are feeling antsy about being here, in Atlanta. It's too easy for . . . her . . . to find us. Even though we've got some great guys lookin' out for us, I don't feel anywhere near as safe here as I did . . . um . . . where we were. I'd like to go back, if it's okay with you. I'd also like to take Micah. "Until that happens, though, Nathan, Bailey, and I think he needs someone to guard him. Actually, um . . . we've already told Scott Chen, the head honcho here, to hire someone. I figured it'd be okay with you, and we all want Micah to have some sort of protection right away, just in case . . . "Um . . . Father . . . Micah is scared to death by what you might think of him, because of all this. He's come up with all sorts of things you might think. I . . . um . . . I'm not telling you this to ask that you act in any certain way; I only want you to know his mindset before you see him." Riley listened intently, as his father spoke, then nodded. "Yes, yes, of course, we'll wait until you return. I . . . we'll see you then. Stay safe, Dad. We'll do our best to do the same." Riley slowly hung up the phone, then looked at Bailey, and finally the two guards who were standing in the room. "Well," he said, leaning against Bailey's shoulder. "That went better than I'd hoped." He bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "Geez. I don't want to ever have to do anything like that again." He shuddered. "Gives me the heebie-jeebies, just thinking about it." * * * Micah restlessly turned over, staring, unseeing, at the leafy shadows on the far wall of the bedroom. The night was hot, as it seemed to always be, and humid. Still, he wanted the bedroom windows open, allowing whatever breezes there were, to carry the scent of growing things, the chirp of crickets, and a sense of peace into the room. 'After today, I need whatever help I can find. 'I went to the meeting at the law firm today, hoping the attorneys would finally give me some information. Well . . . I should have been more specific with my wishes. Instead of some information, I've learned that my image of my mother was nothing more than a childish dream. My real mother, most likely, wants me dead. Oh, and I have two half-brothers, one of which I'd love to have as a boyfriend. Can life get any more complicated?' He heaved a sigh. 'I wonder what Nathan is doing. Lately, all I've been thinking about was how lonely I've been. Now, all I can think about is how much I'd like to hold Nathan, skin-to-skin.' Micah paused, recalling something Bailey had said. "While Riley and I are definitely gay, Nathan's not very precise about what he is." 'He certainly acts interested in me,' Micah mused. 'Maybe I'm reading too much into his behavior, though. He could just be a very demonstrative guy.' Micah recalled what it felt like to be held by his half-brother. 'I haven't felt a tingle like that since the first time I kissed a guy. 'Oh, Nathan,' Micah sighed, as he turned onto his stomach and fluffed the pillow. 'It would be so easy to love you.' * * * Nathan thrashed, gasping as he sat up. A terrified chill rippled up his spine as he tried to rid himself of the nightmare which continued to grip him. "Sir?" Mario, the guard, asked, from the hallway. "Any word about Micah?" Nathan asked, his breath coming in quick gasps, as he rubbed a trembling hand over his face. 'I know she's going to do something,' Nathan thought. 'I just know it.' "None," Mario said, in a low voice. "Mister Sutton should not have gone home. He would have been much safer, here." "Yeah," Nathan sighed, as he propped himself up on an elbow and spoke to the man who seemed nothing more than a silhouette in the dim light of the hallway. "I'm sure he would be." "You already care for him, as more than a half-brother, don't you?" Mario asked, his normally teasing voice, serious. "He's a very likable young man." "Yeah, Mario," Nathan sighed, as he lay back, and clutched a pillow to his chest. "He sure is." * * * Scott Chen thanked the person with whom he'd been speaking, ended the call with a press of a finger against the glass surface of his phone, and turned to the two men who were anxiously waiting. "A guard by the name of Robert Matthews will be heading out to Mister Sutton's house. Robert's a good man. I've worked with him in the past. He's at least an hour's drive from the house, though. He's been given the young man's phone number, and will notify him of his arrival. "Mister Pruitt, would you call your brother and let him know what to expect, and the reasons we've taken the actions we have?" "I'll let Nathan know what's happening," Bailey volunteered. "I'll leave the job of explaining things to Micah to you," he leaned forward, halfway to kissing Riley, then paused, hands on hips, as he looked from one guard to the other. "I must say that I've grown tired of behaving as if Riley and I are not lovers, just because you guys are around. That's going to change, so in advance of anything either of us might do, all I can say is you'll have to find it within yourselves to deal with it. Okay?" he gave Ernst, his guard, a faintly quelling flick of his eyelashes, then disappeared down the hall. "So there," Riley murmured, casting an amused glance in Ernst's direction. * * * "Yes, sir, he's awake," Mario answered Bailey's murmured question. "Bailey?" the voice came from inside the darkened room. "Hey, Nathan," Bailey said, from the open doorway. "May I come in?" "Sure!" Nathan scooted aside, making room for Bailey on the edge of the bed. "What's happening? Is everything okay?" "We've arranged to have a guard go out to Micah's place. I would imagine we'll have a new roommate soon. I heard Scott ask the guard to notify us whenever he arrived at Micah's place. He's on his way, but he's got at least an hour's drive." Nathan grasped Bailey's hand. "Thank you for doing this for Riley and me, Bailey. I apologize for being bitchy a while ago. It's just, I'm . . . I'm thinking that I'd like t'be more'n just brothers with him. Y'know?" he asked, in a small voice. "I don't know what Dad would say about that sort of relationship, but, at the same time, I don't see how he can complain. I mean, after all, we're only half-brothers." Nathan paused. "I wonder if that means we'll be committing only half-incest?" he asked, grinning at Bailey, in the darkness. * * * 'Why am I drawn to him?' Elizabeth asked herself. 'Why?' she wondered, recalling the first time she saw her . . . son . . . as he stepped out of his grandparents' home and took the few steps to the mailbox. 'Looks just like his father,' Elizabeth thought, from her vantage point. 'Too handsome for his own good . . . probably full of himself, depending on his looks and other people to ease him through any difficult situation . . . again, just like his father. Probably never worked a day in his life, never thinking for himself or taking responsibility for anything.' She snorted. 'I hate people like that. People, like me, are expected to work for their money, instead of expecting it to be given to them . . . like him,' she disdainfully sniffed. She studied the young man as he visited with his neighbor. 'He carries himself with authority. He laughs a lot . . . not a care in the world. I'm not surprised! With all the money I sent his grandparents just to ensure they kept quiet about his existence. I just couldn't let my friends know I'd had a child by someone other than Franklin. The Country Club crowd would have shunned me. I would have lost face. Besides, I'd been away from Franklin for two years. If he'd known I'd had a child by another man, he might not have taken me back; and, after the child's father disappeared, there was no place else for me to go. I had to go back to Franklin, no matter how much I hated doing it. 'If I'd known that by going back to him, though, Riley and Nathan would have been born, I very much doubt I would have returned, no matter how much it would have hurt.' Even as she thought it, though, she knew she would have gone back. After all, there was nowhere else to go. 'I am like a beautiful flower,' she thought, as she touched her lank hair. 'I need someone to care for me, and I must admit Franklin looked good when he stood at my side. Of course, anyone would have. 'He and I were not at our best when . . . whatshisname was born.' She paused a moment, realizing she didn't know her son's name. 'What is he . . . twenty-three years old, and I don't know his name?' She shrugged. 'Doesn't matter what he calls himself, he needs to pay for the hell he's put me through, just like the other two. 'Well . . . tonight will put an end to at least one chapter in my life. After I've taken care of . . . him . . . I'll be free to go after Riley and Nathan.' She paused, putting the things she needed in her dilapidated car, and grinned, her mood brightening. 'Once those two are out of the way, I'd bet I can find a way to get access to their money. Then, it'll be easy to put Franklin out of his misery.' * * * Well, it doesn't look like I'm destined to get any sleep t'night," Micah groaned, as he ended his telephone conversation with Riley, and rolled out of bed. A few minutes later, he tucked the tail of a T-shirt into his running shorts and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes. "It looks like I'm gonna have a guard as a houseguest in an hour or so." He started some coffee brewing, and began sorting through the day's mail. "Aw, hell!" he shouted, a few minutes later, clutching an amateurish letter, from his . . . mother, in his hand. 'This is something right out of a cheap 'B' murder movie,' he thought, glancing at the threats, made up of individually cut out letters from a magazine. He shook the paper in disgust, sending a few of the poorly glued-on letters fluttering to the floor. Micah's first reaction to the warning was, 'Yeah, right.' Then, he thought of the two attempts on Franklin's life, and his reaction changed from amusement to disgust, and finally to barely controlled hatred, mixed with a touch of fear. "Show your face, bitch!" he shouted, his voice rattling in the empty house. "Give me thirty seconds with you, and we'll see who's day it is to die!" He slammed a fist into the bedroom door, leaving a jagged hole in the wood veneer. "I've never done anything to you, other than love you!" he shouted. "When Riley and the guys told me what they thought you were really like, I defended you! I L O V E D you!" he shouted, at the top of his lungs. "My whole life, all I wanted to do was hold you and tell you how much you meant to me!" He rubbed a hand over his face, willing himself not to cry, as his childhood dreams were shattered. 'There'll be time to rant, later,' he told himself. 'Now, I need to act. 'I'm glad I took the security people's advice and parked my car on a side street instead of in front of the house,' he thought, as he followed Riley's instructions to call the guard if anything new came up. He quickly punched the man's number into the phone, cursing his shaking fingers, and received an almost instantaneous single-word answer. "Yes?" the voice asked. Micah identified himself, and told the man of the threatening letter, as he scanned the living room of his grandparents' house, deciding what was essential for him to take with him. 'Somethin' tells me I'll not be coming back.' "Stay put," the man ordered. "Stay away from windows. Don't turn on any lights which aren't already on. I'll be there shortly, and will identify myself at your back door. My name is Robert." "If you're going to want me to get out of here, I won't do it unless I can take some stuff with me," Micah told the man. "Don't argue, Robert," he warned, then hung up, and rushed through the darkened house stuffing clothes and some important things into a couple large trash bags which he left by the kitchen door. He jumped when someone knocked, but relaxed slightly when the person at the door identified himself. "This load has got to be the last," the bodyguard grumbled, fifteen minutes later. The sound of a nearby street helped mask his voice, as the dark clothing camouflaged his presence. He and Micah had made three hasty trips out the back door of the house, through the home's small backyard, across a small creek, thankfully dry, and across the rear of a neighbor's heavily wooded property, to a side street, where both Micah's and the guard's cars were parked, now loaded with almost everything the two men could easily bundle up and carry. Micah had been insistent. "I'm not leaving everything behind. This is all I have left of my grandparents," he steadfastly told the bodyguard, when he'd opened the back door to the house and had seen the guard's appalled expression. "Y'either help me shift this stuff, or get out of the way, 'cause I'm moving as much as my car'll handle. Then, I'll be good, and do as you say. Until then, though, I'm gonna be stubborn as a mule." When the guard refused to move, Micah sighed. "Look . . . Robert . . . I value my life, but I also value these . . . things. They are all I have left of my childhood . . . of the people who loved me." He snorted. "I always thought my mother loved me, but today's death threat killed those dreams." Robert read the letter, shaking his head as he read, "Today's the day you're going to die." He pressed his lips thoughtfully together, then tucked the folded paper away in his coat pocket and jerked a nod. "Alright, but let's make it snappy," he relented. "I'm supposed to be guarding your butt, not slinking through the woods at night, looking like a burglar," Robert groused, as he heaved the last bag into the backseat of his car and closed the door. "It's not going to do either of us any good to have a trigger-happy neighbor shoot at us." "Then why . . . are you helping me?" Micah huffed, out of breath, as he tossed the final bag of stuff into his own car. Robert, it turned out, had been wonderful, volunteering his car to help Micah clear out as much stuff as he could . . . quickly. "'Cause you remind me of my boy," Robert mumbled. "Now, really. We've gotta get out of here. Her letter may have been sent only to screw with your mind, but you never know. She could also have contracted with someone, like she did on the attempt against Mister Pruitt, but neither of us are hangin' around to find out." When they turned toward their cars, they heard a crash of glass, followed, a moment later, by the sound of the fire alarm system in the house. "Shit!" Robert swore, as he opened Micah's car door and pushed him in. "Think about it later!" he hissed. "Now's the time to save your ass. Don't speed, or do anything to draw attention to yourself. Just follow me." Micah nodded, dazed. 'I could have been in there,' he thought, dully. He started the car's engine, just as a vehicle careened past, its driver turning on the car's headlights as the car sped down the dark street. "That's her," Micah swore, as the speeding car turned a corner and disappeared. * * * Scott Chen was the first to hear the sound of someone shouting. He motioned for silence, as Riley and Bailey stood, prepared to retreat to the room farthest from the apartment's front door, as they'd been instructed. Before they'd taken a couple steps, though, Bailey stopped. "That's Micah shouting; I'd swear it." "Micah?" One of the guards flanking the door asked. "Your brother?" "Yeah," Riley murmured, distractedly. "Geez, he sounds pissed." "Yeah, well," Micah said, as Guard Chen opened the door, after Robert identified himself. "I don't care if I'm shouting! I want to bloody murder that woman!" Micah bellowed, stomping past the guard, into the apartment's living room. He immediately rounded on the guard who'd been his escort. "I've done as you've asked, so . . . Robert . . . ease off! Okay? I'm not pissed with you, I'm just royally pissed!" "What?" Riley began, then involuntarily stepped back, as the full intensity of Micah's wrath fixed on him. "That woman!" Micah bellowed, pointing toward the city beyond the apartment's windows. "That woman!" he repeated. "She fuckin' tried to kill me! I've never even met her, and she tried to kill me!" His attention turned to Bailey, as Nathan ran out of the bedroom, then slid to a stop, daunted by Micah's voice. "She burned my god damned house down, hopin' I was asleep, inside! Stupid bitch, though, thought she was gonna play with my head by sending me a piece of mail telling me that, 'today's the day I was going to die.'" Micah threw up his arms and looked toward the ceiling, in exasperation. "I'm not complaining that I'm still alive, but shit! "The woman's been watching too many dumb-ass murder mysteries. Do you know what she did?" he asked, returning his attention to Riley, who mutely shook his head. "Do you fuckin' know?" Again, Riley shook his head. "She fuckin' composed that entire god-damned message by cutting individual letters out of a magazine, or something, then pasting them onto a sheet of paper. For added impact," Micah sneered, "she smeared catsup, or something equally stupid, tryin' to look like blood, over the bottom of the friggin' page, and wrote, 'Love, Mom," with her fuckin' finger! Then . . . then . . . she fire-bombed my frickin' house!" He turned his attention on Nathan, who was standing nearby, dressed in a pair of underwear. "The woman's a raving lunatic! "She burned my house down! I grew up there!" He bowed his head. "My grandparents' house," he managed to say, as his anger gave way to tears. Nathan rushed to his half-brother's side and wrapped him in a tight embrace. "What am I gonna do?" Micah sobbed, as he clung to Nathan. "I've never done anything to her. Why's she hate me enough to wanna kill me?" "Why don't you take him into the other room?" the guard, who'd escorted Micah into the apartment, said. "I'll brief everyone on what happened." Nathan nodded, and guided the sobbing man toward one of the bedrooms. * * * "I'm sorry for acting like a child," Micah sniffed, as he and Nathan sat on the edge of the bed. "It's just . . . so much has happened today." He snuggled closer to the underwear-clad man, leaning his head on Nathan's shoulder. "Finding out about you and Riley was awesome, but now . . . this. "My grandparents' house," he groaned. "You're not acting like a child," Nathan murmured, inhaling the scent of Micah's hair. "D'you think Riley and I didn't cry when we realized what an awful person she is? Whenever you or I get t'feeling like no one cares, we've got one another to help us out. Remember that, okay?" Micah silently jerked a nod, then put an arm around Nathan's waist, as he swiped at his teary eyes. "Y'feel good," he murmured. "Strong." "Yeah . . . s'nice," Nathan sighed. "Were you able to get some of your stuff out of the house before you had to leave?" Micah nodded. "Yeah, some . . . mostly my clothes, but some stuff of theirs, too. I made sure to take some photo albums. They show happy times." "There'll be lots more happy times," Nathan said, soothingly. "I'm glad you didn't have to leave everything behind." "Robert helped out," Micah murmured, as he ran a hand over Nathan's bare back. 'It seems so . . . natural,' he thought, 'being here with him, like this.' "Thank you, for holding me. When I was trying to sleep . . . earlier tonight . . . before all this . . . I was thinkin' how good it felt when you hugged me." He sniffed. "I haven't been held by a guy . . . like this . . . before. Y'know . . . just holding one another feels good, 'cause you're close n'all." "And, knowing someone cares for you," Nathan murmured, as he rubbed his nose through the hair at the side of Micah's head. "And, you're not alone," Micah added. "You're not alone. Riley'll stick close, and . . . and, I'll hold you. Deal?" "D'you think I can stay with you tonight . . . so we can hold one another? Sort'a makes me feel safe, and . . . you feel so good." He leaned close and kissed Nathan on the cheek." He softly snorted. "I'm lucky, y'know? Even with losing the house n'all, I'm lucky, 'cause you're in my life." He yawned, then stretched out as Nathan lay down. A few minutes later he turned onto his belly, snuggled closer, and draped an arm across Nathan's chest, then slipped into a dreamless sleep. * * * Elizabeth ran into the apartment, carrying the morning newspaper, anxious to read of the success of her previous night's . . . adventure, as she labeled it. She hurriedly scanned the front page and frowned when the fire wasn't even mentioned. 'I expected there'd be a big splash, complete with large-print headline, describing the unfortunate death of the burning home's inhabitant, alongside color photographs of the flames rising into the night sky.' Her frown deepened, as she tossed the first section of the newspaper aside. 'What?' she wanted to scream. 'Surely it rated Section B!' She flipped through the entire section and saw no mention of the fire, or of her son's death. 'It can't be in the Sports page,' she huffed, tossing those pages on top of the other castoffs littering the kitchen floor. 'The Metro Section is the only one left,' she thought. 'I don't have a good feeling about this. Something went wrong. I know he was home. I saw him pick up the mail, along with that deliciously provocative note I created.' "Wha . . .?" she asked, as her phone chirped. 'Who'd be texting me?' Any excitement about the fire and her son's death evaporated, as she set the newspaper down and shakily pressed the button on the phone. "We always knew you were a pig . . . Liz," the message began. "This place suits you perfectly." Elizabeth glanced toward the kitchen door. 'Someone's been in my home! It's them,' she thought . . . 'the men who are tormenting me.' "Do you have food fights with yourself," the message read, "or . . . do you eat off the floor, like a good little . . . piggy? It looks like either could be true. "Oh yeah . . . about your coming death. Are you scared yet? You should be. "It's too bad you failed to kill one of the family . . . again. Sigh. You can rest assured, though, when we want you dead . . . you'll die. There's no escape. "No matter what you do, we're watching. No matter where you go, we're there. Someday . . . soon . . . Liz, we'll strike, but not before giving you a chance to check your make-up. After all, we want you to look your best when we throw you into a ditch, to rot with the other garbage." * * * "Oh . . . my . . ." Micah exhaled, as the car, he, Nathan, and their two guards were in, slowed to a stop in front of Pruitt House. "This is where you live?" he asked, staring out of the windows. "It looks like a temple, sitting in a park, or something, what with all the columns, and lawn, and trees, n'all. It's beautiful." "Yeah, this is where Riley and I grew up." Nathan opened the door, stepped out of the car, and was joined by Micah. Moments later, Riley, Bailey, and their guards emerged from a second car. The assembled guards quickly took up defensive positions around the young men, as they all trooped up the steps, crossed the porch, and entered the home's foyer, through the double front doors. This time, not only Micah paused in amazement, but was joined by the four guards. Bailey took one look around, then turned to Riley, with hands on hips. "And you've been wearing second hand clothes!" He shook his head. "Here, I thought your family had fallen on hard times, or something! Sheesh!" "I thought the outside was nice," Micah murmured. "This is awesome," he said, as his gaze followed the curve of the navy blue-carpeted stairway, to the second floor landing, which spanned the entire width of the black and white tiled foyer. The balcony, and it's intricate wrought iron railing, was supported by four deeply fluted columns. In the center of the room, beneath an enormous circular skylight, framed by elaborate white moldings, and architectural woodwork, stood an imposing table and a flower arrangement worthy of a five-star hotel. "Elsie!" Riley called, as a woman dressed in a maid's uniform entered the foyer, attracted by voices. He and Nathan ran to the woman and greeted her with laughter and hugs. "Thank you for looking out for Father, like you did," Riley said, pausing for Elsie to wipe her teary eyes. "I understand some of the staff is calling you Rambo," Nathan chuckled. "Not if they know what's good for 'em they don't," she laughed. "So, Mister Smarty," she warned, "take that as a hint, or I may have to smack your bottom." "Uuuu," Nathan teased, leaning close to give the maid a kiss on the cheek. "A smack on the bottom. Sounds like fun." "Oh, boys, it's so good to have you both back home. I've missed you." "Bailey, Micah," Riley called, gesturing the two men closer. "I'd like you both to meet the most important woman in Nathan's and my life. This is Elsie." "The maid," the woman added, when it appeared Riley would leave out that bit of information. "That's why I wear this cute maid-cap," she grinned. "We think of her as our mother," Nathan explained, unaware of the impact his words had on the woman. "The most wonderful woman I've ever known," he added. "Elsie," Riley said, continuing to hold the woman, with an arm around her waist. "I'd like you to meet my partner, Bailey Wilkins, and Micah Sutton." "Welcome to Pruitt House, gentlemen," Elsie greeted each of the men. "Micah's Riley's and my half-brother," Nathan blurted out, bouncing on the balls of his feet, in excitement. "There's a resemblance, don't you think?" he asked, stepping close to Micah and presenting Elsie with a cheesy smile. "Sure 'nuf, but he's the handsome one," she teased, reaching out to tickle Nathan, who laughed and jumped out of her reach. "Looks like you'll have another person to mother." "Oh, my," Elsie paused, as she reached for Micah's hand. "That would be wonderful!" She turned to Bailey, and smiled. "And, by any chance will Nathan be trying to fluster me by telling me that you are also related?" "No, ma'am," Bailey laughed. "Though Riley and I are rather close." "Then, you are a very lucky man, Mister Wilkins. Riley is a fine boy. I've not seen nearly enough of him during the past four years, though, while he's been away at school. I hope to see a great deal of you both from now on." She studied the four dark-suited men who'd positioned themselves around the foyer. "And, these men are your bodyguards, I expect?" When Nathan nodded, Elsie raised her voice. "Welcome to Pruitt house, y'all. Thanks for looking after these young men. Make yourselves at home, but please don't start breaking the windows, or bleedin' on the floor. I've just got everything back to the way I want it. The last bunch through here nearly ruined the place." * * * "There's no reason to be nervous," Nathan said, as he guided Micah around the foyer. Riley studied his new-found half-brother, as Micah visited with Nathan, and Bailey chatted with Elsie. 'Geez,' he is nice looking,' Riley thought. 'Mother was pretty, but, this guy's father must have been a real looker! 'Maybe Bailey's right . . . I should start dressing better. I thought I looked pretty good, but, compared with Bailey, Nathan, and Micah, my clothes look . . . lived in.' Micah, on the other hand, appeared to have stepped out of a fashion magazine. The blindingly-white turtleneck sweater set off his good looks as it caressed his suntanned neck, in much the same way his navy blue slacks cupped his crotch and emphasized his narrow hips and long legs. His dark hair appeared artfully disarranged. Riley grinned, aware, from personal experience, how difficult it was to achieve that particular look. Micah's dark green eyes hinted at an . . . intense . . . personality, while the sensuous lips suggested passion, and, a sense of humor which Nathan seemed to be able to tap. 'Nathan certainly seems taken with him,' Riley thought, as his younger brother guided Micah towards the study, making a point of leaving Bailey behind, as he gestured to various things in the foyer. "Your thoughts?" Bailey asked, moving close, and smiling, along with Riley, at an outburst of laughter. "You're making that up!" Nathan guffawed. "For real?" he asked, his voice sliding upward. "In public!" "I'm thinking Nathan appears pretty enamored with our new brother." "Half-brother," Bailey corrected, as he and Riley joined Nathan and Micah in the study, leaving the guards in the foyer. "Yeah, but not for long, I'd be willing to bet," Riley murmured. The four of them had been in the room only a few moments when they heard the front door of the house open, and the sound of new voices. "Easy," Nathan murmured. "You have nothing to worry about." "My mind agrees with you, but my heart and wobbly legs say otherwise," Micah grumbled. Franklin Pruitt could be seen crossing the foyer, impatiently waving his two guards aside. "Yes, yes," he said. "I understand the need for security, so . . . provide it . . . out here. I want to spend some time with my sons, without you hovering nearby. We'll promise to stay away from the windows." He paused in the double doorway, and took a deep breath, studying the men who stood in front of the fireplace. After the barest of hesitations, he crossed the room, and shook Bailey's hand. "Bailey," he said, with a warm smile. "So good to finally meet the man who has captured Riley's heart. I look forward to us becoming close friends. Your father sends his best wishes, as does your mother. Fine people," he added. "I trust the men out in the foyer have been treating you well?" "Yes, sir, very well. Thank you." "Good." Franklin moved on to Riley. Where he had shaken Bailey's hand, he gave his son a fierce hug. From where Bailey stood, he saw Franklin tightly close his eyes as he and Riley exchanged an embrace. "Oh, Riley," Franklin said, in a rough voice. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you. Thank you for allowing me to talk you into coming back to Atlanta, and for taking care of your brother for me." "It was he who took care of me, Father." "Aw shucks," Nathan murmured, then sobered when he saw his father's emotionally laden expression. "We took care of each other, sir," Nathan concluded, accepting a hug from his father. Franklin reluctantly released Nathan, stepped to his right, and faced an employee he'd come to value. "Micah," he said, in a low voice, as he seemed to drink in the slender man. "Sir." "If you'll permit?" Franklin asked, holding his arms apart, asking permission. "Of course, sir." Franklin hugged the man in a lingering embrace, obviously taking pleasure in the fact that Micah returned the gesture. "I'm so sorry," Franklin managed to say, as he held the young man at arm's length. "What Elizabeth did, by abandoning you, and never acknowledging you, was reprehensible. If I'd known . . ." "Sir," Micah gently said, as Franklin reluctantly released him. "She did what she thought best. There is nothing for you to feel sorry for. I've had a wonderful life. I was reared by two people who could not possibly have shown me more love than they did. I have always been happy." He bowed his head. "I must admit, I was a bit happier believing my childhood fantasies about my absent mother. But, with Bailey's, help, I have come to realize that's all they were . . . fantasies." "She burned his grandparents' house down," Nathan told his father, when it appeared Micah wasn't going to." Franklin compressed his lips and bowed his head. "Yes, well . . ." Micah mumbled, moved by Mister Pruitt's silent anguish at what his ex-wife had done. "Like it or not . . . I'm facing the reality of the situation. Besides," Micah grinned. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to finally have the brothers I always wished for, as I was growing up." Franklin cleared his throat, as Nathan rested a comforting hand on Micah's back and rubbed. "Spoken like the man I have come to admire so much at work," Franklin said. "Welcome to the family, Micah." "Sir?" "As far as I am concerned, you are a Pruitt, and I will treat you as such." "Sir, my last name is Sutton." "Of course, and please accept my apologies. I did not intend to disparage your grandparents. I'm not suggesting you dishonor their memory by turning your back on their name. I believe, however, that you can be both a Sutton and a Pruitt." It was Micah's turn to choke up. "I'd be honored, sir."
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