---

At first, Jamie was too startled to respond as Dillon's mouth came down on his. But as Dillon's tongue began a slow assault against Jamie's lips in an effort to get them to open, Jamie felt his body--and his resolve--melting. He opened his mouth and gave Dillon entry.

Dillon teased and tasted him until Jamie thought he would go insane. He could feel the bulge in Dillon's jeans, which didn't help his own condition any. It was everything a first kiss should have been, audience or not. Just when Jamie was wondering what the punishment for having sex in the school hallway would be, Dillon pulled away. He kissed the tip of Jamie's nose and whispered, for Jamie's ears only, "I'm sorry to embarrass you in front of everybody like this, baby, but I couldn't think of any other way to show you how I felt." Before Jamie could answer, Dillon straightened up and turned back to Barnes, shielding Jamie with his body.

"Does that answer your questions, Barnes, or do you have some more for me?"

Ash may have been shocked, but quick recovery was one of the things that made him such a hot commodity on the football field. And his temporary shock had made him no less angry. This time, though, his anger was redirected at Jamie. "God, Walker, you're somethin' else. Ben isn't even cold yet and you've already moved on. So much for true love I guess."

Jamie came out from behind Dillon, his eyes blazing. "What would you know about it, Barnes? You barely even knew Ben. If you and those dickwads you call friends ever spoke to him it was to tell him to fuck off or to call him a queer or a fag. Where in the hell do you get off telling me what I'm supposed to feel?"

"Who you calling a dickwad, Walker?" Chad stepped up. He wasn't any taller than Jamie, but outweighed him by a good sixty pounds, not that Jamie cared. He could take him.

"You, no-neck. I've seen you and Rooster Carmichael hassling Ben more than once."

Chad took a step forward, but once again, Dillon shielded Jamie with his body. Jamie should have been pissed about being protected like a child, but he wasn't. Knowing that everything Dillon was doing was done because he cared about him so much made all the difference.

Chad took another step towards Jamie, but Dillon's next words stopped him cold. "Touch him and you're a dead man, Minton."

Ash was on that in a second. "Making threats, Carver? Did you make the same kind of threats to Ben? What did you do, warn him off Walker and when he didn't back away decide to run him down with your car?"

He knew how Ben had died? Sheriff Nash said that information hadn't been released to the public yet. "How did you know that Ben was hit by a car?"

Ash shrugged. "Everybody knows. It's all over town."

Chad came to stand behind Ash. "What you getting at, Walker? You trying to say Ash had something to do with Lewis's death? You're the one who's cheating on his dead boyfriend."

Dillon started to say something, but Jamie reached in front of himself and squeezed Dillon's hand. "Ben was never my boyfriend. He was my best friend, and he knew exactly how I felt about Dillon." Jamie's voice dropped and fought hard not to tear up. "I loved Ben, and I'll miss him for the rest of my life, but we were never in love. There's a big difference."

Ash snorted. "Yeah, right. That's why Ben was licking your tonsils at the dance Friday night."

He might have said more, but the sharp clacking of footsteps sounding down the hall broke them all apart. Principal Morgan took one look at the four of them, squared off in the center of a mass of onlookers and said, "What's going on here?"

Ash went first, the suck-up. "Nothing, sir. We were just . . . talking."

Morgan lifted one perfectly shaped eyebrow and put his hand on his Armani clad hip. How the hell did a high school principal afford Armani, anyway. "Talking, huh? Is that what they call it? Looks more like you were settling in for a sparring match to me." He looked to Jamie. "James, were these boys bothering you?"

God, Jamie wanted to wipe that smug look off Barnes's face. But he couldn't do it without getting Dillon in trouble, too. "No, sir. Like he said, we were just talking."

Morgan made no bones about his lack of belief, but he must have decided to let it slide, because he said, "Fine then." He addressed the group as a whole. "All of you, show's over. Get to class." He waited until all of the onlookers, and Chad and Ash, left before turning back to Dillon and Jamie. "You want to tell me what really happened, James? Off the record, I swear."

Jamie shook his head. "It was nothing, Mr. Morgan, I promise."

"If that's what you tell me, than that's what I'll go with, but just remember, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me." He waited until Jamie nodded and then took his exit.

As soon as Morgan left, Megan came charging back from her hiding place on the opposite side of the double doors leading to the main hall. She was out of breath and her face was flushed.

"Boy, do you two know how to make a scene or what? I thought Ash Barnes's eyes were gonna pop out of his skull when you kissed James like that."

Dillon leaned down to pick up the books Jamie had dropped earlier. Jamie had forgotten all about it, himself, but he was warmed that Dillon was still taking care of him. Dillon handed the books and papers to Jamie, but his words were for Megan. "Barnes isn't usually such an ass, but I'm glad, at least, that he knows know where I stand." Dillon reopened his locker and took out his coat. He fished a twenty out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Listen, Megan, I promised James some lunch, but I've got something I need to take care of. Would you mind taking him, instead?" He gave Jamie an affectionate smile. "This guy here still doesn't know how to drive."

Jamie shook his head. "I can eat in the cafeteria, and I've got my own money."

Dillon closed his locker and put on his coat. "I know that, but I'm gonna ditch for the rest of the day, and I don't want you to be alone any more than you have to be. And before you start, I know you can take care of yourself." His eyes grew soft as he looked at Jamie, making Jamie feel strong and alive. "But you had a bad shock yesterday, and even though you're feeling better, Nate says these things can boomerang on a guy. Please, just do this for me, okay?"

Jamie wasn't sure what to say, but Megan stepped in so the point became moot. "We'll go out to lunch, Dillon, and spend every dime of that hard earned money of yours." Her tone was light, but Jamie could hear a slight quivering in her voice. "And don't worry about James. I'll see that he makes it home this afternoon, safe and sound."

Home. That's when it hit Jamie. Dillon wasn't just ditching school. He was going home to pack. When his mother heard about that kiss--and she would, probably any minute now--Dillon would be thrown out of his own home. Dillon hadn't just proved his feelings to Ash and Chad. He'd outed himself to the whole world.

Jamie moaned. "Oh, God, Dillon. Your parents. I am so, so sorry."

Dillon came to stand in front of him, using his left hand to brush Jamie's hair away from his forehead. "Don't you dare apologize to me. None of this is your fault. I'm gonna go home and pack up so I'll be ready to leave by the time they get there. My dad will bitch a little bit, but there's really not anything he can do." Dillon leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against Jamie's. "It'll be fine. You'll see."

"Where will you go. What--"

"Shh. I'll be fine."

Jamie was getting desperate. "Let me go with you. I can help."

Dillon shook his head. "I appreciate that, more than you know, but this is something I have to do by myself." He kissed Jamie one more time and then took off.

Jamie was devastated. He sank back against the lockers and was doing a slow slide to the floor when Megan grabbed his arm and hauled him back up.

"Oh no, you don't. First rule of a crisis is 'deal with it, now--fall apart later.' And this is a crisis if ever I saw one."

Jamie nodded. When Megan was right, the girl was right. Dillon needed him too much for him to wuss out now. "I'm hoping you have a plan."

Megan patted his cheek. "One thing you'll learn about me, James. I always have a plan."

* * *

Dillon pulled into the driveway. It was amazing the things a person noticed when he was going home for the last time. The swing hanging from the porch that had a missing slat. The tree he planted for Arbor Day when he was in the fifth grade. And that was just the yard. The interior of the house was no different. When Dillon unlocked the front door and went inside, the creaking of the hinges his father was always after him to oil, coupled with the smell--that smell that was unique to every home, everywhere--was almost enough to make him want to take it all back. But the taste of Jamie, still fresh on his lips, the feel of him, the scent of his hair, was more than enough compensation. Pastor Oakley once preached about that verse from the Bible, "What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" At the time, Dillon hadn't understood, but now he thought he did, only in reverse. He was about to lose everything, the whole world as he knew it. But it didn't matter. He was getting his soul back. As long as he had Jamie, he could do this. Even though they weren't technically together again, yet, the last two days had given him hope, something he hadn't felt for a long time.

The actual packing itself didn't take long. He'd stopped at a fast food place on the way home and gotten some boxes. He emptied drawers, closets, and shelves, not lost to the irony that his entire worldly goods fit into six large boxes labeled Happy Time Burger Palace. The Place Where Happy Smiles Stretch A Mile.

When he was sure he had everything he wanted to keep, Dillon loaded up his car. It took some doing, but he was able to cram it all in there. Thank goodness he wasn't a packrat like his brother. It had taken a moving van to get Heath out of the house. Funny, all it took to get Dillon out was one kiss and six boxes.

When he was finished, Dillon moved his car from the driveway to the street and locked it, just in case his dad tried to block him in or stop him from leaving. Not that he would. Dillon was pretty sure Doug Carver would be all too happy to shed himself of his "deviant" son. That done, Dillon came back in and sat down on the couch in the living room to wait. He didn't have to wait long.

At four thirty, he heard his mother's car come tearing into the drive. She must have phoned his father from school, because Dillon heard his dad's Jeep pull in right behind her. Time to face the firing squad.

Angela came in first. Her hair was mussed and Dillon could tell she'd been crying. He might have felt guilty, if not for the first words that came out of her mouth. "Thank God you're here. I know all about that Walker boy attacking you in the hallway, son. We're gonna see him prosecuted for trying to molest you like that."

Doug was in full agreement as he slammed the door behind himself and motioned for Dillon to stand. "Get your coat, Dillon. We'll go down to the police station right now and press charges. We're going to the city cops, too. No use in trying to get any help from that pansy sheriff. We're going to bust Walker for trying to force himself on you."

Dillon stood up, but made no move towards his coat. "You've got it backwards. I'm the one who kissed James, not the other way around."

"Nonsense. Now, you get your coat right this minute, and your mother and I may be willing to forgive you for your insolence last night and that lie you're spinning right now."

"It's not a lie. I kissed James. I can get any number of people to back up my story. How do you think Mom heard about it? Dozens of witnesses saw me back him up against the lockers and stick my--"

"Stop it!" His father's face was turning a mottled red as he tugged against his shirt and tie. "I don't know what's gotten into you, son, but I will not have that kind of filth talked about in my house."

Angela went in search of the phone book, finally finding it in a side table drawer. Flipping through, she said, "I'll tell you what's gotten into him. That James Walker has lured him into this. What we need now, Doug, is to cancel out his influence. A friend of mine told me about a good doctor just outside Chicago who's excellent at deprogramming kids who've been brainwashed like this."

Brainwashed? Good God. "Mom, I don't need to be deprogrammed. I'm gay, not a cult member."

Doug snorted. "Same difference. I warned you what would happen if you kept hanging around that damned Nash family. Every last one of them is going to hell for sanctioning that sham marriage between Brandon Nash and that doctor of his. What did those two do, son? Get you alone and play around with you a little?"

Angela warmed to the idea. "That's it. Instead of calling the doctor we should call the police, but for Nathan and Brandon Nash instead of James Walker. Dillon just turned eighteen, which means he was probably a minor when it happened. We could have the Nash's arrested for raping him."

Dillon could feel himself starting to lose control. He did his best to rein it in. "No one did anything to me. Neither Brandon nor Nathan Nash would ever touch me. And like I said, I kissed Jamie because I wanted to. I've been wanting to for years."

Doug took his coat off and slapped it down on the coffee table. "I'll not stand here and listen to my son talk about being a damned . . . a worthless . . ."

"A what, Dad? What is it you usually call us? Poofs? Queers? Sodomites? I don't think there's one I haven't heard yet."

Doug was so mad his eyes were bulging, but Angela wasn't ready to give up the whole coercion theory. "Honey, these feelings you're having aren't real. This is James Walker's fault, all of it. He has you in thrall, darling. He's responsible for this . . . this," try as she might, she couldn't seem to find the right words.

Dillon knew exactly what to say. Listening to his parents stand there and slam Jamie like he was some evil guru was taking its toll. "What's the word you're looking for, Mom? You insist James is responsible for my being gay, so let's think up a good word for that. Metamorphosis? Nah, too much like a butterfly, and those are beautiful, whereas us sinners are ugly. How about 'the change?'"

Doug's voice was solid steel. "Stop it."

But Dillon was beyond listening. "You're right. The change sounds too much like a female thing. We homos may be girlie boys, but not quite that girlie, huh, Dad? I've got it. How about 'gayification?' As in, 'James is responsible for my 'gayification.' Wonder if they make a repellent for that? You know, some spray that keeps all those gay germs at bay. Something like, 'Gay be Gone,' or 'Gay Away.'"

Douglas took a menacing step towards his son. "I'm warning you now, Dillon. Shut up."

"No, Dad. You shut up. Shut up with all the slams against Jamie and all the excuses you keep throwing out so you won't have to face the truth. I'm gay, Dad. I'm a fag. A great big butt-fucking one. God willing, I'm gonna marry Jamie and we're gonna settle down and raise lots of little fagglets together."

"Dammit, I said that's enough." Douglas raised his hand and was about to strike when a voice at the door said, "Go ahead, Carver. I'd love a chance to lock your ass up for assault."

All heads turned at once to see Brandon Nash standing in the doorway, Megan and Jamie behind him. Brandon unclipped a pair cuffs from his belt. "Go ahead, Dougie. We're waiting."

If there was one thing Dillon's father hated more than gays, it was being called Dougie. But even as filled with rage as he was, he wasn't stupid enough to go after Brandon. Instead he looked down at Dillon. "Get out of my house. You're not welcome here, anymore."

Angela was crying, but Dillon ignored it. Grabbing up his jacket, he started for the door. He'd almost made it to where Brandon and the others waited, when Douglas said, "Dillon?"

"Yes, sir?" He almost choked on that ingrained bit of respect, but he got it out, anyway.

If Doug felt anything for his son besides disgust, he didn't show it. "Give me back your house key, boy. If and when you come to your senses and ask for forgiveness from this path to Hell you've chosen, then you can come back. Until then, if you step one foot onto this property, I'll have you arrested for trespassing and breaking and entering." He turned back to Brandon. "Did you get that, Sheriff Nash?"

Brandon gave him a two fingered salute. "I hear ya loud and clear, Dougie, and I'm sure Dillon did, too. That's the thing about the braying of a jackass. It's pretty hard to miss."

Douglas was just before having some kind of seizure, he was so pissed, but Dillon didn't so much as look at him. He pulled the house key off his key ring and laid it on the coffee table. Without a second glance towards either of the two people who brought him into the world, Dillon left.

Outside, the frigid evening air helped to clear his head. As soon as they were off the driveway and on the public street, Jamie all but flew into his arms. He nearly knocked Dillon over, but Dillon could have cared less. Jamie felt so damn good against his chest, Dillon didn't care if the two of them ended up in a pile on the street.

Jamie slid his arms into Dillon's coat so that he was as close to actual skin as he could get. "Thank God you're okay. I was worried sick."

Dillon hugged him tight and took a long, deep breath of his hair. "I'm fine, James. I told you I would be." He glanced over Jamie's head at Brandon. "I owe you more than I can ever pay back, man. Thanks." He grinned next at Megan. "And the same goes for you, baby girl. I have a feeling you're behind all this."

Brandon said, "Yeah, and that's a bone I've got to pick with you, kid. I told you to call me anytime you needed me. Why, then, do I have to hear that you're in a boat load of trouble from my baby sister, and not from you? I told you to call anytime, day or night. You called Nate yesterday to help out with James, but you wouldn't call me to help out with that prick you call a dad. It's enough to give a guy a complex, I tell you."

Dillon felt Jamie laugh against his chest, and he couldn't help but smile himself. "I'm sorry, Sheriff, uh, Brandon. It won't happen again. I just didn't want to be a bother."

"Well, next time, you call. As far as being a bother goes, that's what family is for."

Dillon raised one eyebrow. "Family?"

Brandon shrugged. "That's right. Family. I figure if being the fake boyfriend of my baby sister for almost five months doesn't make us related, then what does? So, from now on, you call."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, did you get all your stuff from the house?"

Dillon nodded, still refusing to let go of Jamie. "Yep. It's all in my car."

"Good. I want you to come stay with Nate and me." Dillon started to speak, but Bran said, "No arguments, either. I called Nate at the hospital, and he's all for it."

Jamie pulled back so he could look Dillon in the eye. "You don't have to, Dillon. You can come stay with me."

Dillon traced the line of his cheek with one finger. "We're not ready for that, yet. You know it as well as I do."

"I know, but I'm the one who got you kicked out of your house."

"No, you didn't. My parents kicked me out. We both knew this was gonna happen."

The sound of a truck coming up the street stopped the conversation. Dillon almost did a double take when he recognized the vehicle. Heath.

Heath parked behind Dillon's Lumina and got out, walking over to where they stood. "Nice night for a family reunion, huh?

Dillon looked back towards the house. He could almost feel his parents peering out through the picture window in the living room, trying to see into the rapidly falling dusk. He ignored the prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck and gave his full attention to his brother. "Heath, what are you doing here?"

"Someone," Heath flashed Megan a brief grin, "called to tell me that you might be in some kind of trouble. Wanna tell me why I had to hear that my baby brother needed a hand from a third party, and not from the man himself?"

Brandon said, "The kid seems to have a problem with the whole asking for help concept. I fully expect to have to force him to come stay with Nate and me."

Heath nodded. "Ah, yes. Guess the 'kiss that rocked Plunkett High' didn't go over too well with Ma and Pa Carver, huh?"

Jamie and Dillon both blushed, but it was Dillon who said, "Good news travels fast. Let's just say Mom and Dad now have one son, and it ain't me."

Heath's grin was pure mischief. "In that case, they won't have any offspring left when they find out you're living with me."

Dillon thought maybe his ears needed cleaning. "With you?"

"Yep." Heath glanced back at Brandon. "I know you asked squirt here to come stay with you and the Doc, Sheriff, but you guys are still newlyweds. The last thing you need is some snot-nosed kid to look after." When Brandon started to protest, Heath said, "Besides, I moved out because I couldn't stand living under old Adolf Carver's roof any longer." His eyes softened as they focused on his little brother. "The only drawback to not living with them anymore was missing Dillon." The lightness came back into his voice. "This'll give us a chance to catch up."

Brandon nodded. "I can understand that, but do you have enough room at your place?"

"It's a one-bedroom apartment, but I have a fold-out couch."

Brandon started to speak again, but Dillon stepped in with, "It's just until I find my own place, anyway, Sheriff. Like I told you before, I've been expecting this to happen, and I'm prepared."

"Look, Dillon, there's no need to find a place of your own. Nate and I would be glad to have you for as long as you want to stay. That way, you could save all your money for when you start at Garman in the fall." Not until he said it, did Brandon realize what he'd just let slip. "Damn. I didn't mean to say that."

Jamie stepped away so he could give Dillon a long, searching look. Dillon could feel all the color draining from his face as Jamie watched. He must think Dillon was some kind of stalker or something.

"You're going to Garman? In New York?"

"Uh, yeah. I was gonna talk to you about that, James. I just got my letter the other day."

"Either you already knew that I'm going to Garman, too, or this is one heck of a coincidence."

Dillon felt more in knots now than he had fifteen minutes ago when he thought sure his dad was gonna hit him. He cleared his throat. "I knew." When Jamie didn't say anything, Dillon rushed out, "I knew, and I put in for Garman so the two of us could be in the same place, but I swear I wasn't stalking you or anything."

If Jamie was upset, he sure didn't show it. "Pity. I was looking forward to an obscene phone call every now and then. How are you at heavy breathing?"

Dillon's breath rushed out of his lungs in a gust of relief. "You're not mad, then?"

Jamie reached out and tentatively took his hand. "No, Dillon. I'm not mad."

Brandon was also the picture of relief. "Thank God. I thought sure I'd screwed things up with my big mouth."

It was Jamie's turn to flush. "Speaking of big mouths, what I did today, Dillon, outing you like that . . . God, I was so wrong. I've never told anyone except Ben about us, and that was just because he put two and two together and figured it out. Please, don't be angry."

Dillon grinned. "I'm not. You didn't see me denying it, did you?" He reached out with his free hand and traced one finger over Jamie's lips, following every dip and curve. "As I recall, I made certain no one had any doubts left as to what team I play for."

Jamie smiled and leaned into Dillon's hand. "Yeah. You did do that, all right." He cast his eyes downward a little bit. "Not that I'm complaining."

Heath said, "I hate to break up this greeting card moment, little brother, but you still haven't told me whether or not we're gonna be rooming together."

Dillon sighed. "I don't want to put you out, Heath. I know you have . . . friends . . . over on a pretty regular basis."

Heath's eyes darted over to Megan before focusing once again on Dillon. "If you're talking about women, let's just say I don't have any 'friends' who'll be staying the night and leave it at that." He grinned. "So, what do you say? You gonna hang out with me, or set up shop at the Sheriff's place?"

Brandon and Nate were great people, but Dillon had to admit, he'd feel more comfortable staying with a member of his family--the only family he had left, for all intents and purposes. "Thanks, Heath. I'll take you up on it, but I still wanna find my own place as soon as I can." He smiled at Brandon. "Thanks for the offer, Brandon, but if you and Nate don't mind, I think I'll move in with Heath for a while."

Brandon shook his head. "Not as long as you know that the offer's always open." He grinned. "I don't blame you for wanting to move in with your brother, but Nate's gonna be so disappointed. He was looking forward to the pitter-patter of little feet."

* * *

Megan dropped Jamie off at his aunt's just before nine that night. Moving Dillon into that pigsty Heath called an apartment had been an experience, but it hadn't taken as long as Jamie would have thought, even without Brandon's help, since the sheriff had been called back to his office. One thing that saved time was not having to move any of Heath's stuff out of the drawers and closets to make room for Dillon's things. Most of Heath's clothes and other possessions were already on the floor.

Still shaking his head over the shape of Dillon's new home, and remembering Megan's comment that she knew self-respecting gutter rats that wouldn't live in that place, Jamie went into the house. He found Aunt Sadie in the kitchen, still dressed in her day clothes and nursing a cup of hot chocolate. She motioned for him to sit down.

"For someone who didn't cause me a spec of trouble for over fourteen years, you've made up for it with a vengeance today, my boy."

Jamie sank into the chair. "What happened?"

Sadie pointed to the old fashioned dial phone on the wall. "That thing has been ringing nonstop since I got home at six, and the answering machine in the den had about six messages on it from before I even got here." Sadie took a long sip of her drink. "Must have been some kiss."

Damn. "Aunt Sadie, I can explain."

Sadie placed her cup back on its china saucer. "Just answer me one question. Did you enjoy it?"

Jamie's face was on fire. "Yes, ma'am, I did."

"That's all I needed to hear. As long as you weren't forced into anything, I say what you and Dillon do is your own business. I told Douglas Carver as much when he called, raving about how my 'deviant' nephew had corrupted his virginal son. Three of the messages on the machine were from him, by the way. The fourth time he called, he got me. Bet that insufferable ass wishes now I hadn't picked up."

He wouldn't doubt that a bit. "What did you say to him?"

Sadie did her best to look all sweet and innocent, the perfect picture of old fashioned gentility. Jamie wasn't buying it for a second. She shrugged. "Nothing much. I pointed out that you and Dillon were both over the age of eighteen, and that, as a lawyer, he should know that you're past the age of consent to do whatever it is you feel like doing together. I also told him that since those dreadful, arcane sodomy laws were struck down by the Supreme Court a few weeks ago, it was none of anyone's business. Of course, we haven't had sodomy laws in Illinois since 1961, so there was never any question."

"How did you know that?"

Sadie patted his cheek. "When you told me you were gay, sweet boy, I made it my business to know as much as I could, just in case. I simply told Douglas Caver what I'd learned."

That didn't sound so bad. "Is that all?"

Sadie toyed with the handle of her cup. "Well, I may have mentioned that I read somewhere that homosexual tendencies are usually passed down from father to son, so Douglas should clean out his own closet before he starts trying to slam the doors on others."

God, he loved that woman. "You heard no such thing."

"No, I didn't, but Douglas Carver doesn't know that. I wouldn't be surprised if he's going through his family tree even as we speak trying to find the infidel who started all this 'homosexual debauchery,' as he called it." She giggled. "Listening to him sputter and spew made all the other phone calls bearable."

Jamie sighed. "Who else called?"

"That bubble-head Morgan called, wanting to make certain you were all right. He said you had some trouble in the hallway at school this afternoon." Jamie was about to speak, but she stopped him. "No need to go into it, Jamie. I figure it had something to do with that kiss Douglas Carver was fuming about, and the less I know about it, the better." She thought for a minute. "Let's see. Who else? Oh, Nathan Nash called. He was planning on coming by here to check on you, but since you seem to be over the worst of the shock, we deemed it unnecessary. He did say to call him if you get worse, again. He also told me about Megan's phone call to Brandon and about Dillon's being thrown out of the house. If I were a man, and about twenty years younger, I'd go over there and give Dillon's father the worst beating of his miserable life for treating his own child that way."

"Aunt Sadie, if you were twenty years younger, you'd do it, man or not."

"Good point. Where's Dillon staying, by the way?"

"With his brother."

"I bet Douglas and Angela will love that one. It's no matter for them, reaping what they've sown and all that." She got up to take her now empty cup to the sink. "Did you want some cocoa, dear?"

"No, ma'am. Were those all the phone calls?"

Sadie drizzled dish soap into her cup and swished it around while she thought. "There were two more on the machine, both from someone named Anton, or Alton. Something like that."

"Ashton?"

Sadie turned back to Jamie as she twisted the knob and opened the faucet. "That's it. Ashton. He left a number where he could be reached, but never gave any real message other than a request for you to call him. I wrote the number down for you, if you want to call him back."

Jamie wasn't ready to face that yet. He was still smarting from his confrontation with Ash and Chad, not to mention wrestling with a guilty conscious about Ben. He missed Ben, but it was Dillon he ached for. Why couldn't he have given Ben more? More love, more attention. Ben, who'd known so little joy in his life, had done more for Jamie in the last two years than any friend he'd ever had. Jamie owed him, and now it was too late to repay the debt.

"Jamie, did you hear me? Should I get that number for you?"

"Sorry. No, ma'am. I'll just catch him at school tomorrow." Not really. Not if he could help it, anyway.

"Well, it's on the notebook by the den phone if you change your mind. Oh, and before, I forget, Nora Slater called."

Jamie's heart sank. Poor Nora. She must be devastated, and he hadn't even thought to call her. He didn't realize he'd said it out loud until Aunt Sadie came back to the table and squeezed his shoulder.

"Jamie, Nora's buried two husbands. She, of all people, understands about grief. She called to see how you were, and she also said she'd like to talk to you as soon as possible."

"Should I call her tonight?"

"No. She sounded worn through, poor thing. It might be best to wait until after the arrangements are made. Hopefully, the inquest will be settled soon and you can all get on with your healing." She wrapped her arms around him and cuddled him close, the way she had so many times before. Jamie relished the feelings. He'd almost forgotten what his real mother looked like, Sadie being the only mother he ever needed. He relaxed under the coddling. Unfortunately, the phone rang.

Sadie snorted. "I should have taken that blasted thing off the hook and been done with it." She started for the phone, but Jamie got up and shook his head.

"I'll get it, Aunt Sadie, You've had to field enough calls today." He crossed the room and lifted the receiver. "Hello?"

"James? It's Nate."

"Hey, Doc? What's up?"

Nate hesitated. "First, tell me how you're feeling."

"I'm okay. I still hurt, and I miss Ben like crazy, but I guess that's normal. That's what everyone's been telling me, anyway."

"It is normal. Just let me know if it gets worse."

"I will. Is that why you called, to check on me? Not that I don't appreciate it, because I do."

"I know, James. I'm glad you're out of the worst of it, but I'd be lying if I said that's the only reason I called."

Jamie was afraid to ask, but the words came out anyway. "What is it?"

"Brandon wanted me to call you and let you know what's going on. He'd have called himself but he's down at the station, wrapping up some loose ends. He's made an arrest, James. He caught the man who hit Ben."