The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 24: “Funeral Games”

Tal Bachman’s “If You Sleep” opens this episode, as many of the funeral gatherers attempt to recover from the fiasco that disturbed the solemn nature of the service. Upon seeing the source of the commotion, Priscilla pushed past Drake to rush over to her son’s graveside, losing her balance along the way and falling to the ground. Several arms reach to help her up, but it was Austin’s hand that she grasped. She could not hold back her tears any longer and emotionally broke down before them all. Drake had his eyes on her purse, which landed a few feet from her. He darted for it, eager to get what it hid, but suffered defeat when another mourning female picked it up to hand to Priscilla.

By that point, Nathan was helping Callum from the pit. From a distance, Rodrigo had watched the spectacle of Allison assaulting Callum, and he cracked his knuckles in fury. Chloe was crying as she stood behind Kyle, who had a firm grip on Allison. Bralen came over to help, but his attention was distracted by Chloe, whose crying had seemed to intensify with the spectacle of Allison and Callum in combat. Kyle escorted Allison off the graveyard, hoping to calm her down. Brendon stood solemnly with the rest of those gathered. He felt absolutely terrible for his part in the whole disaster and managed to keep a distance from Callum, although he was quite perturbed when Nathan rushed over to Callum’s assistance. Once order was restored, the funeral ended ten minutes later with Peyton’s interment into his final resting place.

Brendon frantically looked around for Nathan, not seeing him anywhere. Maybe he’s with Allison. Oh, no, he’s still with Callum

Callum: You’re my hero once again, rescuing me from Allison’s fury.

Nathan: I honestly don’t know what’s got into her. She’s a totally different person.

Callum: Well, all our feelings are raw right now. I just feel so bad, disrupting the service. I genuinely wanted to say a few good words about Peyton.

Nathan: I know. Anyway, I should—(gesturing toward Brendon in the distance)

Callum: Are you?

Nathan: Yes, we’re back together. I-I had been meaning to tell you these past few days, but I’ve been so busy back at Hollycove Prep. I’m sure you read in the press that Justin recanted his allegations.

Callum: That’s wonderful, Nathan.

Nathan: Listen, I hope you’re not upset. I-I know that I kissed you on the pier, but Brendon and I made up just the next day. He’s apologized for siding with Justin. I was actually coming to tell you that this morning when I caught you in your kitchen.

Callum (blushing): I’m really sorry you saw that.

Nathan (smiling): It’s okay. So who’s this lucky guy and when do I get to meet him?

Callum: He’s just an old mate from Oxford.

Nathan: Well, that was some reunion you two were having. I’m just glad you’ve moved on. Well, I had better get back to Brendon.

Callum: Yeah, you wouldn’t want him jealous.

Nathan: He’s still a bit upset over what happened between us, but I told him he has nothing to worry about. Hey, why don’t you invite your friend to come over to our place sometime for drinks?

Brendon (coming over): Am I interrupting something?

Callum: No, Nathan was just inviting me over to your place for drinks. (seeing Brendon’s expression) but I was about to respectfully decline. (turning to Brendon) I have some engagements to attend to after the funeral. Besides, I have made some promises to certain people and I intend to keep them.

Brendon (putting his arm around Nathan): Well, we certainly don’t want to keep you from that. (kissing Nathan)

Callum: Oh, that reminds me about Justin.

Brendon (trying to control his voice): What about him?

Callum: Where is he?

Nathan: He’s back home.

Callum: You think that’s a good idea?

Brendon: Why wouldn’t it be?

Nathan: I think Callum is still upset over his car, and I don’t blame him. Justin needs to be taught there are consequences for his actions.

Brendon: Look, I don’t need the two of you ganging up on me about him. (turning to storm away)

Nathan: Brendon! (to Callum) I’m sorry. I need to see to him.

Callum looked at Nathan’s retreating figure going in search of Brendon. His attention was soon drawn to another couple standing near a tree. They looked to be engaged in an argument. Callum could only smile to himself.

Allison (coming up to Chloe, leaning against a tree): Chloe, honey?

Chloe (tears in her eyes): Who are you?

Allison: What?

Chloe: You’re not the woman I fell in love with. She would never get so violent.

Allison: Chloe, if you had heard what he was saying.

Chloe: I don’t care, Allison. You could have killed him with that shovel. So far I’ve only heard of your altercations with him, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen you act this way. You’re really starting to scare me. (beginning to move away)

Allison (grabbing her arm): Chloe!

Chloe (jerking away): Don’t touch me. I don’t know what you’ll possibly do to me.

Allison: Oh, Chloe, please don’t talk like that.

Chloe: I can’t talk to you right now. (walking away)

Allison: Chloe!

Chloe (turning around): You told me I needed help. I think it’s you who needs it more.

Chloe rushed in the opposite direction, bumping into Bralen in her haste to get away. He nearly fell to the ground, but Kyle prevented him from falling all the way.

Bralen: Has Allison rubbed off on her? She didn’t even say “sorry.”

Kyle: I think all this is a shock to her. Losing her baby, losing Peyton, and now witnessing Allison really losing her temper.

Bralen: I still don’t know why Callum showed up. It’s not like he really knew Peyton.

Kyle (dramatically clearing his throat): I have it on good authority from a coworker that their relationship went way beyond the professional. (winking)

Bralen (realizing Kyle’s reference): Ohhh! (suddenly feeling remorse for nearly crossing such a line with Kyle) Uh, Kyle, about the other night. I’m really sorry.

Kyle: Bralen, you don’t have to keep apologizing. You were drunk.

Bralen (turning red in the face): So have you seen Heath lately?

Kyle: I’m going round there soon to take him to the clinic.

Bralen: I tried to get him to go to the doctor, but he wouldn’t.

Kyle (sighing): I know. It’s been over three days since he was attacked. I can’t get him to report it.

Bralen: Can’t you just start the investigation?

Kyle: I wouldn’t know where to start. I spoke with the Hawk Eye manager, and he wasn’t on site when the crime happened. Did you see anyone?

Bralen: No, I only saw Heath, lying on the ground like I described him to you.

Kyle: The longer he doesn’t report it, the harder the case will be. (balling his fists) I just need him to describe the bastards to me.

Bralen: Calm down, Kyle. I’m sure he’ll come to his senses. I know you can get to him.

Kyle: I hope so. It’s killing me to see him go through this alone.

Bralen: You really love him?

Kyle: I never stopped loving him.

Austin (coming over): So what are you two canoodling about over here? Shouldn’t you be heading to the repast—

Kyle: I think you should concern yourself with your campaign.

Austin: Why? I’ve got it in the bag, especially after another of Allison’s stunts just now. This truly reflects poorly on the club’s current leadership.

Bralen: Well, you stepped on some people’s toes when you sent out that email expressing condolences over Peyton’s death and signing it as “Outrunners President.”

Austin: Whom did I offend?

Kyle: Jeremy Dodd for one.

Austin: Jeremy? That old geezer!

Bralen: Well, that old geezer as you call him was the original founder of the Los Angeles chapter of Outrunners.

Austin (nonchalantly): Oh, no matter.

Bralen: You ageist bastard!

Kyle: I wouldn’t try to piss off Jeremy. He represents a good portion of the over-50 crowd, which you’ll need to win if you seriously think you’ll be the new president.

Austin: Don’t tell me how to run my campaign. Just keep a leash on Allison.

Kyle: Go to hell, Austin. (walking away)

Austin (turning to Bralen): The nerve of him talking to me like that.

Bralen (looking him square in the eye): You know you can go to hell.

Austin: Oh, Bralen, you’re such a dunce, not realizing that you’re the main reason I started this campaign in the first place.

Bralen: Excuse me?

Austin: Yeah, I decided to run after I caught you with steroids.

Bralen: What are you talking about?

Austin (seeing Bralen’s confusion): During Pride Weekend, you were working the beer booth with Heath. I noticed you were under the influence of some substance. Little did I know it was steroids.

Bralen: What?

Austin: When Heath had to leave, I found you on the ground, nearly passed out.

Bralen: But that doesn’t prove anything. It was over 90 degrees that day. I was probably suffering from heat exhaustion.

Austin: I found a syringe next to your body. I had its contents tested and guess what it was.

Bralen: What are you talking about? This is my first time hearing any of this, and I really don’t care what you have to say. I don’t do drugs.

Austin: Then how did your test come back positive?

Bralen: How do you know about that?

Austin: Just who do you think tipped your coach to the fact you’re abusing performance enhancing drugs?

Bralen (shoving his hands into Austin’s chest): You bastard!

Austin: Hey, watch it!  I could strike you back, but it wouldn’t be a fair fight with you, would it?

Bralen (getting in his face): You don’t know what you’ve caused. Why didn’t you come to me first?

Austin: I had wondered how you came in first place at the Pride Run.

Bralen: Oh, so that’s what this is about. My kicking your ass in the Pride Run race! I knew your story was a bunch of bull.

Austin: Look, I could care less if you believe me or not. Maybe the syringe wasn’t yours, although I don’t know why Heath would need it.

Bralen: Heath? What’s he got to do with this?

Austin: Pay attention! You and Heath were the only ones in the booth. Maybe you two were sharing it—you for your “strength training” and Heath to keep up with Tristan’s stamina. (pause) Knowing the immoral nature of this club, I wouldn’t be surprised if you two were using it in prep for a threesome.

Bralen (punching him): You asshole! I won’t forget about this. (walking away)

Austin rose from the ground, dusted himself off, and looked around to see if anyone saw Bralen attack him, knowing that would be the boon to his campaign. He went in search of Drake, who had finally caught up with Priscilla, catching her as he was about to get into the car. She offered for him to get in with her. He agreed, got inside, and closed the door. There was a glass partition separating them from the driver. Drake assumed they could speak in private.

Drake: Mrs. Ashland, I can’t believe you—

Priscilla: I what? Watched it? Don’t you know that straight women love gay porn?

Drake: Please, I’m begging you.

Priscilla: This is all I have left of my Peyton.

Drake (smelling alcohol on her breath): He’s not even in it.

Priscilla: I often thought he would make a good porn star—no, wait—you lot like to be called “models.” Well, I’m sure Fabio never did any of the nasty stuff you guys did in that video. Was your husband in there with you? I didn’t recognize him, but then again I counted over 20 men.

Drake (his hand slyly reaching for her purse): Mrs. Ashland, I really—

Priscilla (snatching the purse away and putting it on the other side of the seat): You’re a slick one. (her fingers pinching his cheeks) I’ve got to watch out for you.

Drake: Look, I’ll pay for it.

Priscilla: What makes you think I need money? My son is leaving me a small fortune.

Drake: Then what do you want?

Priscilla (her hand falling onto Drake’s inner thigh): I thought you’d never ask.

Drake (grabbing her hand and removing it): I told you, Mrs. Ashland, I’m a married man.

Priscilla: Did you tell that to those twenty or so men who fucked the living daylights out of you? I’m sure that was a turn-on for them, trying to impregnate a married man.

Drake: Shhh! (gesturing to the driver behind the glass)

Priscilla: Oh, he can’t hear. Besides, he’s straight and wouldn’t patronize your smutty titles.

Drake (his resolve waning): Look, Old Woman, I either need that DVD or for you to keep quiet about it.

Priscilla: Why don’t you come back to my place later this evening and we can discuss arrangements.

Drake: For what?

Priscilla: My keeping quiet. I would like you to wear this (pulling out a thong from her purse) when you come by.

Drake: What the hell?

Priscilla: Don’t worry. I’m not going to cause you any trouble, Sweet Cheeks. I just want a little fun to end this mourning spell. (starting to cry)

Drake: I didn’t mean to sound so cruel.

He felt the woman’s head fall against his chest. He also felt her hand going between his legs. He could tell she was still crying. He had the perfect opportunity to get at her purse but opted to his put his other arm around her quivering body to offer her a warm hug. His soft side had once more got the best of him.

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Simple Plan’s “Untitled” plays as Heath tossed and turned in the bed, trying to will himself to get another hour of rest. He had chosen not to go to Peyton’s memorial service, sending his condolences in the form of a card and floral arrangement to Priscilla. His morning had gotten off to a rocky start when Tristan wanted to have sex. Lying in bed together, Heath had felt Tristan’s hand near his groin. Tristan’s hand then came from under the covers and placed itself on the crown of Heath’s head, trying to pull him underneath the covers to give him a proper blowjob. This prompted Heath to make an excuse to go to the bathroom. I can’t really tell him the reason why I’m not in the mood. Yet I’m going to have to give into him since I know he might stray if he’s not satisfied that way. He deserves to be pleasured. He is my man after all, but I would creep out when he starts moaning and saying “oh yeah” like those bastards who…

Heath remained locked in the bathroom for another ten minutes even when Tristan began banging on the door. When he came out, Tristan looked at him really strange as if seeing him in this emotionally bruised state for the first time. The stare he gave Heath was unsettling.

Tristan (moving in to kiss him): What took you so long? I’m so horny. (his hands spanking Heath’s ass)

Heath: Tris—

Tristan (kissing his neck): Yeah, Babe.

Heath (feeling Tristan’s erection against his leg): I can’t do this.

Tristan: What? You want to play, right?

Heath: No, really, I’m not in the mood. (pushing him away)

Tristan (advancing upon him again): Come on, Heath. I need you right now, Babe. I-I feel so—

He had been about to say “lonely” when Heath firmly pushed him away and ran into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He then quickly threw on some clothing and rushed outside the apartment, leaving Tristan very bewildered and not knowing what to make of it. Heath rushed to the courtyard as fast as his legs carried him, wanting to weigh himself down with something very heavy, dive into the pool, and let the water take him away… away from Tristan’s overactive sexuality, away from Kyle’s pressing need to help him, and most of all away from his own guilt over what he had done to Bralen. Tears flowing from his eyes, he would have assuredly put thought to action had there not been children in the pool at that moment. He sat in one of the chairs and watched them playing in the pool under the close supervision of their guardian, who made sure they were in the shallow end. They looked so happy, splashing water at each other, their laughter flowing freely in the air. Heath thought about when he had wanted children. If it was a boy, he would have named it Kyle, a girl, Kylie.

He sat there another for another half hour, half expecting Tristan to find him and drag him back for the sex he demanded. I just couldn’t go through with it. I’m not ready to have him touch me. Luckily, the last few nights he’s been under the influence of alcohol, which in his case puts him to sleep quicker. But sooner or later I’ll have to do it or risk losing him. I can’t tell him the truth. It would really freak him out.

He went back to the apartment, finding Kyle just about to knock on the door. There was an awkward moment of silence between them. Their eyes looked at each other, Kyle’s surveying the pain in Heath’s and instinctively moving forward to give him a hug. A few yards away, Tristan was walking back to the apartment, having forgotten his mp3 player. After Heath’s strange rebuff and strange retreat from the apartment, he had wanted a quick run to burn off some of his stored energy. He had already run nearly two miles, but the entire time his mind was plagued with questions about Heath. His behavior has definitely changed a lot since Peyton’s death. I didn’t know he was that close to him, but why did he treat me that way? Something’s not right with him. He’s too distant. He should understand I’m grieving, too. I miss my best friend Vittoria so much. We always got into so much trouble together in Italia. Maybe I just need to talk to Heath. Vittoria always said I was a dog, a player… maybe I can do her memory some justice and become a changed man. Heath really loves me, and maybe I feel the same way about him.

It was during this point that he came back to the apartment, catching Heath and Kyle in a comforting embrace. What the hell! He can’t even touch me, but he’s willing to hold Kyle. And just why is he always around here? He was here the other day, and now I’m getting the feeling something’s going on between them. Tristan stood there from a distance and watched as Kyle entered his apartment along with Heath. He initially thought they were going inside to do something sexual, but they both came out minutes later and got into Kyle’s car. Oh, I see how it is. You want to have your cake and eat it, too. Well, two can play this game.

WEST LOS ANGELES CEMETERY

Talon had informed the Getty he would be taking the rest of the day off. It was shortly past lunchtime when he got the call, his eardrum nearly blown out by the anger.

Allison: What the hell are you doing? You told me you would handle him. Get him away from here!

Talon: Dr. Trudeau, I’m working on that.

Allison: Well, work harder! I want that bastard out of our lives!

Talon: I won’t have you calling him names. Frankly, I’m just as eager as you for us to leave. Between the violence shown by you on the beach and that by that nutter who took Dr. Ashland’s life, I’ve had my full share of this country! I love him too much to leave him here in harm’s way.

Allison: I don’t understand how you can love such a heartless—

Talon (cutting her off): is there some purpose for your ringing me other than launching into a tirade against Callum?

Allison: I need you to come here and get him before I kill him myself.

Talon: Where are you?

Allison: I’m at Peyton’s funeral. Callum should never have come here.

Talon: I’ll be there shortly. (snapping the phone shut)

He hated he had made this pact with her, but she had described Callum as being lovelorn and in need of someone when he had first met her in London a week ago. He had been at Armitage & Burnham Publishing headquarters in London when she had first entered the building, accosting the poor, unsuspecting receptionist Patty O’Leary, demanding to speak with a member of the Armitage family. Patty had naturally inquired about the reason, and when Allison had mentioned Callum, Patty’s eyes had gone aglow, for she was a notorious gossipmonger. Had not Talon been exiting the building at the time and overhead Callum’s name spoken by them, Patty would have launched into some egregious diatribe against Callum.

Talon: Pardon me, but did you just say Callum Sutcliffe?

Alliso (turning to face him): Yes, do you know him?

Talon: Yes, I know him quite well.

Patty: As you should, you—(phone ringing)

Talon: Would you mind getting that, Patricia? It is, after all, part of your job description. (turning to Allison) Pardon that interruption.  My name is Talon Prescott. I was Callum’s—(pausing) Is there a particular reason you need to speak with him? He’s not here.

Allison: I’m well aware of that, Mr. Prescott. He’s in Los Angeles, and it’s imperative I speak with a member of the Armitage family about him. They are his in-laws, right?

Talon: Yes, the whole spiteful lot of them.

Allison: It’s urgent I speak with them.

Talon (at once worried): Oh my God! Is something wrong with him?

Allison: What’s it to you?

Talon: Pardon me?

Allison: Why do you care?

Talon: Callum and I have a very close history together. I need to know if he’s well.

Allison: What type of history?

Talon (eyeing Patty): Why don’t we talk this over a cupper? I know a wonderful shop around the corner.

And so began my pact with the devil. At the time I thought she was just some American journalist looking to dig up dirt on him, but the more I spoke with her—and the more she pumped me for information—I knew there was more to the story. I foolishly told her of my background—Eton, Oxford, employment with the British Museum. She told me she was a respected surgeon in Los Angeles and that she wanted to know more of Callum’s background. I thoughtlessly gave it to her, his educational background and such, but it was when I came to talking of my romantic history with him that she looked very interested. She told of how she been on a fool’s mission to Somerset House, which once housed the national records—she had hoped to find background information on Callum. She kept much to herself but offered to put in a good word for me at the Getty should I come to Los Angeles to get Callum out of their lives. What exactly he had done she would not say. I agreed to the opportunity of seeing him again and reconnecting with him in hopes of rekindling the flame of our relationship. I had inquired if he were seeing someone in Los Angeles, and she gave a rather nebulous response that he wasn’t, and that I had the perfect chance. I told her that I would be coming to America for him, that I didn’t needed any money from her. I came from an upper middle-class family and the position at the Getty Museum would only be for the love of my archaeological studies. After what I had told her, I had soon learned she was very assertive.

Talon got the address of the church and cemetery from Allison and drove there, catching Callum just as he was about to leave.

Talon (rushing to him): My God, what happened to you?

Callum: That Amazon bitch pushed me into Peyton’s grave.

Talon (coming to hug him): Are you all right?

Callum: I’m fine. Nath—(catching himself) Godfrey was here to help me.

Talon: I wish you would hear me out on this. I really think we should go home. It’s not safe here for you or Edward. The events these past weeks prove that.

Callum: Tal—

Talon (interrupting him): What’s keeping you here? Is there someone else?

Callum: N-No.

Talon: Then we can leave?

Callum: As soon as the police have closed the case.

Talon (hugging him): Then I’ll call Detective Milton.  I just want us back home safe and sound. You mean absolutely too much to me, Callum. Did I ever tell you how much I love you?

Callum: If only I had a penny for every time—(his mouth suddenly feeling Talon’s upon it)

From a distance, Tristan saw this display of affection. He had decided to come to the graveside after everyone had left and was surprised to see Callum there with his arms around another man. Why should that bastard be happy when both Peyton and Vittoria are dead because of him? I knew he was blackmailing them both. That’s his M.O. Well, now he’s going to pay for what he did to me. You won’t enjoy your happiness for long, Callum.

WEST HOLLYWOOD CLINIC, LATE AFTERNOON

Kyle sat silently in the chair, tapping his foot as he waited for Heath to finish his appointment. He had been sitting there for nearly half an hour and was the only one in the waiting room. It was nearing closing time for the clinic, and Heath presently came through the door, looking possibly sadder than any other time. Kyle got up and went to him, hugging him.

Kyle: What did the doctor say?

Heath: He tested me for all the venereal diseases. He also gave me an HIV test, but I won’t know the results for a few months.

Kyle: Do you feel okay?

Heath: No, not really. It never dawned on me until I was in with the doctor that I-I may have—

Kyle (taking him farther into his arms for a great hug, his right hand cradling Heath’s head): It’s okay. We’ll get through this together.

Heath (pulling himself apart and looking into Kyle’s eyes): You mean that?

Kyle: I do. No matter what the outcome of those tests, I still care for you. I still love you.

Heath (trying to move away, but Kyle grabs his wrist): Oh, Kyle, I don’t—

Kyle (pulling him back): Look, I know I messed things up for us. I understand that you’ve moved on, but there’s a part of me that just can’t let you go.

Heath: I’m no good to anybody. (feeling something hard in his hand, covered by Kyle’s grasp) W-What?

Kyle: Would you wear it for me?

Heath (looking at the ring now in his palm, realizing it was the wedding ring he’d seen the day they split up) K-Kyle, I—

Kyle (moving in to give him a kiss): I’m not expecting anything in return. I-I just know that you (emotionally breaking down) should’ve been wearing this a long time ago. (holding his hand up to show Heath the matching band on his ring finger) Promise me you’ll at least think about it.

Heath (closing his eyes, imagining what life would have been like had they stayed together): Okay.

Heath slipped the ring on the appropriate finger and they left the clinic, Kyle holding the door open for him. Heath marched down the steps and lost his balance, coming into harsh contact with the concrete pavement. He skinned his arm, unleashing a small exclamation. Kyle rushed to him, but Heath pushed him away after seeing that there was blood.

Heath: I don’t want to make a bigger mess of your life than I already have.

Kyle (helping him up): Don’t be silly. Let’s go back inside and see if they can tend to this.

Heath (softly): Kyle?

Kyle (looking into his eyes): Yes?

Heath: Thank you again.

Kyle hugged him once more. From afar, Bralen had just crossed Melrose Avenue when he saw their interaction, his mind racing with thoughts over what Austin had recently told him. He had been so angered he had only stayed at the repast a few minutes as a show of support for Priscilla. He had left at that point and decided to go home. Just as he saw Kyle and Heath embrace, there came an announcement on the radio about the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony held in another day. Bralen nearly broke his hand trying to shut off the radio as his foot hit the accelerator. You’ll need Kyle’s protection, Heath, if you did what I hope to God you didn’t.

PEYTON’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, THAT EVENING

Drake had just finished his last round with the hoola hoop, the plastic toy hitting the floor as sweat rolled freely down his lean body, a thong the only article of clothing on him. He exhaled and fell down onto the soft cushions of the couch, where Priscilla stuffed another $20 note into the thong.

Drake: May I have it now, Mrs. Ashland?

Priscilla (pinching his cheeks): Call me Priscilla. And next time shake that ass more!

Drake: Well, may I have it now? Austin is going to start worrying about me. It’s getting late.

Priscilla: Would you stay the night?

Drake: I—uh—

Priscilla (grabbing the DVD and shoving it at him): Just go.

Drake: But Mrs. Ashland—(catching his error) I mean Priscilla.

Priscilla (rising from the couch): I won’t say anything, Drake. Your secret is safe with me.

Drake: Thanks. (putting clothing back on and taking the DVD case) Will you be fine?

Priscilla (turning around, her face a mess as the mascara has run with her tears): I’ll be okay. I have no reason to live.

Drake (coming to her): Oh, Priscilla.

Priscilla: You don’t know what it’s like. (noticing his beginning a slight rebuttal) Oh, sure you’ve lost someone close to you, but its’ very different for parents to lose their children—especially if it’s an only child. I have nothing left to remember him by.

Drake: You’ve got your memories.

Priscilla: That will fade with time. I know I look like a pin-up model, but I’m nearing seventy.

Drake (coming to hug her): I only knew him a short time. Austin and I just moved here nearly three months ago, but your son was a remarkable person.

Priscilla: I know. The only thing he will have left me is money. I wish I had something else longer lasting. (starting to weep) It’s just not fair. I don’t know why or how this really happened.

Drake: I do.

Priscilla: Pardon?

Drake: I know who’s really responsible.

Priscilla: What? Who?

Drake: Callum Sutcliffe.

Priscilla: You mean the man who was pushed into the grave today? What do you know about him?

Drake: Let me call Austin and tell him I’ll be home later tonight. This may take a while.

ALLISON AND CHLOE’S HOME, LOS FELIZ, EVENING

Allison had left the repast early, feeling a general sense of unease and embarrassment at each face she looked. Priscilla even avoided her, but she at last cornered the old woman and gave her a sincere apology. Although she could tolerate the ostracism from others, it was Chloe’s avoiding her at the repast that completely unsettled Allison. I did mess up. Chloe didn’t need to witness that in her fragile state and at a funeral no less.

Allison arrived home around eight that evening, glad to see Chloe’s car still in the driveway. She went inside, expecting Chloe to be packing her things but instead found the living room empty and dark. Tina Turner’s “I Don’t Want to Fight No More” begins playing as she mounts the stairs to the bedroom, finding Chloe sitting near the window, looking at the sunset, and turning around when she saw Allison enter the room.

Allison: Chloe?

Chloe (distantly): Yes.

Allison: I’m really sorry for what happened today.

Chloe (rising from the windowsill): I was thinking how you could spend a lifetime with someone without ever really knowing them. (heading toward the door)

Allison (grabbing her arm she reaches the door): Chloe, please. I’m begging you to hear me out.

Chloe: Will anything you say be any different?

Allison: I set up an appointment today with a therapist… just like you suggested. I bet you weren’t expecting that.

Chloe: I-I—

Allison (cutting her off): You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t want to lose you over something that genuinely scares you. I would never want to hurt you in any way. I just want things to be right between us.

She warmly kissed Chloe, who accepted the gesture without reservation, her yearning for human contact having been sparked by Estrella’s recent rejection of her. Allison treasured the smooth softness of Chloe’s frame that she held in her hands, looking deeply into her eyes which were filled with an odd mixture of fear and the need for reassuring protection.

Allison: I love you, Chloe.

Chloe (hesitantly): I-I love you, too. I-I just want things to go back to the way they were.

Allison: I promise you—

Her response was cut short by Chloe’s kiss, which had the impact of a hungry soul behind it, her tongue excitedly at task. Allison returned the passion with a need to restore confidence in her lover that she was the right one, the only one her, that she hadn’t made a mistake in choosing her as her life partner. Her hands cradled Chloe’s face as she kissed her back before they journeyed to unbutton her blouse, which fell over the sides of Chloe’s shoulders to the floor.  Allison then felt Chloe pull her to the bed, where their bodies pressed against each other, their kissing spree resuming as Chloe’s hands drew off Allison’s shirt and bra, freeing her breasts for Chloe’s lips to suckle.

Allison loved the thrilling, tingling sensation that swept across her body as Chloe’s mouth worked at wetting the nipples with her tongue. Allison’s hands wrapped around Chloe’s back and unhooked the bra that supported Chloe’s breasts. Upon their release, she moved her body upwards to kiss Allison again, their breasts coming into contact with another for the first time in months. It was a reunion for both women, this moment of carnal bliss that they hadn’t shared in recent memory.  Chloe’s hands continued to caress Allison as their mouths were locked, her fingers gently touching the sensitive area of Allison’s inner thighs that resulted in the woman’s deep breaths.

Allison directed her attention to Chloe’s breasts, kissing and licking them with a new powered hunger as her hands now pulled down Chloe’s silken panties. It was when Allison had fully disrobed all of Chloe, seeing her in this completely nude state since her act of infidelity that her mouth touched Chloe’s preciously responsive area and she endeavored to gratify her partner. Allison’s tongue, teeth, and lips worked at regular intervals in tandem to stir forth a moan of unmistakable pleasure from Chloe, her hips undulating as Allison’s hands tried to steady her. It thrilled Allison to know that she was at last pleasing her the way she should be, but when she looked up into Chloe’s eyes, through her open legs, the face before her briefly morphed into that of Nathan’s, prompting Allison to instantly pull away from her.

Chloe: Allison, what’s wrong?

Allison: N-Nothing. I’m sorry, Chloe. I—

Chloe (adjusting her body so that she could bend over to kiss Allison): I know. It’s been a long time coming for us, but don’t you worry about that. You’re doing absolutely fine. I love you so much. (kissing her again) From now on, we’re starting over.

Allison (the image still burning in her mind): I love you, Chloe.

Chloe: I love you, too.

It was then that Chloe motioned to reciprocate the gesture, having to work a little longer to strike the zone where Allison responded accordingly. Chloe’s lips brushed against her thighs, lightly dotting each area with a sweet kiss that she knew would ignite the sensitive nerves there as it had been an action she had done numerous times during their courting years nearly two decades ago. Finding this not working, Chloe looked at Allison, noting a look of disinclination to be gratified in her face.

Allison closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, her mind at odds with itself over the strange occurrence that had gripped her consciously. What the hell was that? She felt nervous to look between her legs, for fear that her sweet Chloe would not be the one pleasuring her. She felt the softness of Chloe’s hands interlacing with the fingers of her right hand, knowing from the delicate touch that it was definitely the woman with whom she had begun this lifelong relationship. I love you, Chloe. I promise you, I’ll never do anything to hurt you. Saying these sentiments over and over to herself, Allison didn’t feel the moment when Chloe’s fingers and mouth had stimulated her body’s orgasmic response as if the sensation itself were happening separately from the thoughts running rampant in her mind.

Chloe moved up to kiss her, and Allison returned the gesture with one of determined strength. Their heated bodies remained together under the covers until Chloe reached over to turn off the lamp, at which point she separated herself from Allison, her mind at work over that awkward moment in their reunion that just didn’t feel right to her. She couldn’t have known that Allison had felt the same way.

ESTRELLA’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, EVENING (SAME TIME AS PRIOR SCENE)

Estrella had grown tired of Callum’s visits. She had been worn-out already from helping Tristan finalize the transport of Vittoria’s body back to Italy. She had been given a respite from Callum for a few days, but this evening his venom was in rare form.

Callum: I’ll cut with the greetings and get right to your assignment.

Estrella: Excuse me, but I don’t work for you, Callum.

Callum: You do now.

Estrella: I haven’t any time for you. (opening the door) Please leave.

Callum: Fine, I’ll go right to the police and tell them you, Tristano, and Vittoria were all in on the kidnapping.

Estrella: What?

Callum: I know about you and Tristano and how you visited him in the hospital and threw yourself on him like some cheap tart. My word, woman, what is it with you?  You’re greedy with both twig and bush!

Estrella: Just because I know Tristan doesn’t mean I had anything—

Callum: Cut the act, Estrella. I many not know all the details, but I know you’re guilty as hell.

Estrella: Are you finished? If so, you can leave.

Callum: I should inform you that Dave and Victoria—the Debenhams—will be calling your firm, demanding better representation. In addition, you can kiss away any chance of becoming a junior partner because your incident with Chloe will become common knowledge along with anything else I dredge up.

Estrella: Look, Callum, I—

Callum: No, you look, Estrella, I’m no longer playing games. I told you I’m bringing down all those who have got in my way, and right now you’re stuck in the middle, which given your bisexual proclivities isn’t such a bad place.

Estrella: Okay! Okay! What is it you want?

Callum: That’s better. I knew you’d see things my way. After all, you don’t want to end up like Brendon, Allison, and the others. You’d rather be eating out Chloe—pardon me, eating out with her at some posh restaurant in Beverly Hills.

Estrella: I’d rather you leave her out of this.

Callum: Oh, I’m sorry I can’t do that. You see, that’s your assignment. I want you to go after Chloe with all you’ve got.

TO BE CONTINUED…

The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 23: “Funeral = Real Fun”

Coldplay’s “Trouble” opens this episode as Kyle stands solemnly outside the door of Tristan’s apartment, contemplating whether to knock on it, his hand suspended in the air. He had spoken briefly with Bralen to possibly get more information about Heath’s attack as Bralen was the one who had called him. What he learned from him—the cold, rank truth—had deeply unsettled Kyle. He had to speak to Heath, his only reservation that Tristan was inside. Damn it! This is about the wellbeing of the man I continue to love for better or worse! His hand at last came into contact with the door. Heath soon opened it.

Kyle: Good afternoon, Heath.

Heath (gesturing for him to come inside): Hi, Kyle. Are you here to get the rest of Vittoria’s stuff?

Kyle: So you were here when they came with the warrant? I think we got what we were looking for.

Heath: Yeah, I saw some of the stuff they took, mainly drugs and a weapon that may link her to Nathan and Brendon’s attack in the park. Tristan had to leave. He just couldn’t watch them going through her stuff like that.

Kyle: So he’s not here?

Heath: No, he had to make arrangements for Vittoria’s body to be returned to Italy.

Kyle: That sounds complicated. Anyway, I came to check on you.

Heath: Is this about the—

Kyle: Heath, we need to talk about it.

Heath (throwing up hands): No, I don’t want to talk. I hate that you were even dragged into this. Haven’t I caused you enough problems already?

Kyle: Would you rather I treat this case with the cold distance of a cop? Or as someone who genuinely cares for you?

Heath: I don’t deserve your concern, Kyle.

Kyle: And you didn’t deserve what happened to you, either.

Heath: Maybe I did. (sitting on the couch) Maybe this is just karma for all the bad things I’ve done.

Kyle (sitting down next to him): Don’t say that. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You’re one of the kindest and most thoughful men I’ve ever known, and Lord knows this wouldn’t have happened to you if you were still with me.

Heath (angrily): What the—

Kyle: That didn’t come out right. (pauses to rethink) I meant that I only wish I-I was there for you more. (tears coming to his eyes as he reactively rises to turn away from Heath to wipe them away) I need you to come with me.

Heath (looking up into Kyle’s reddened eyes): To where?

Kyle: To a clinic.

Heath: I told you I’m not going to a doctor.

Kyle: But you need to! Heath, you were raped. You should be seen by a doctor. There may still be evidence.

Heath: I showered as soon as I got home. There’s no need for them to see me just to collect evidence. There is none.

Kyle (emotionally choking up): H-Heath, there’s another reason you should go. I don’t know how to say it or let alone ask it.

Heath: What’s wrong, Kyle? You’re taking this worse than me.

Kyle: I nearly lost you, Heath. How am I supposed to react?

Heath (coming to hug him): I-I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.

Kyle (separating himself and looking into Heath’s eyes and taking a deep breath): Bralen told how you looked when he found you. I need to know if—if they—

Heath: What?

Kyle: Did they use any pro—

Heath (not needing him to finish, turning away): What the fuck do you think! I can’t get that out of my mind… how they just—

Kyle: I-I had to ask. (taking another breath) You should go to the clinic. You need to be tested for any transmittable diseases. (noticing his hesitance) I promise it’ll be strictly confidential.

Heath: I don’t want to—

Kyle (coming over to hug him): I know but please do it… for me.

Heath: I-I’m so scared, Kyle.

Kyle (holding him tight): I know you are, but I’m here for you now.

ESTRELLA’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS

Estrella had placed the depositions in her briefcase and looked at herself in the mirror. Even though she felt like crap, she looked like a million bucks. She was in presentable business attire that both captured her sensuality and complemented her sharp legal mind. It had been time for her to throw herself back into work, and the forthcoming interview was just what she needed. She applied a moderate layer of lipstick, grabbed her briefcase, and opened the front door to see Callum’s car pulling alongside the curb. He presently got out his vehicle and accosted her just as she was attempting to get into hers.

Callum: Going somewhere, are we?

Estrella (pressing the control button for car to unlock): Callum, I haven’t any time right now. I have an important appointment to get to.

Callum: This won’t take long. I just needed to ask you something about Vittoria.

Estrella (reluctantly closing the car door and sighing): What is it? I-I’m still shakened over her death.

Callum: Yeah, at the bottom of my staircase.

Estrella: I have some contacts at the district attorney’s office who told me she attempted to kill you.

Callum: She shot me, (pulling back shirt to show superficial wound) but it’ll take more than a bullet to bring me down. Many people will soon learn that, especially Brendon Roberts.

Estrella (her hand quivering, losing grasp of the briefcase): Br-Brendon Roberts? What does he have to do with this?

Callum: Well, you should know that Vittoria attempted to kill him as well. She’s the reason he was in that coma. And I’ll be the reason he goes into a permanent one.

Estrella: Excuse me?

Callum: I just had a run-in with him. The man thought he had ridden himself of me. He will pay for trying to deceive me with Vittoria.

Estrella: I-I should be going now.

Callum: Oh no, I haven’t questioned you yet. I want to know why you were talking with Vittoria the night Edward was returned.

Estrella: Pardon me?

Callum: I have Vittoria’s mobile, and I was checking her call log. You rang her several times that night and the following day. What was so important you had to reach her?

Estrella: I don’t remember. It was probably something regarding the case. (thinking quickly) Oh, yes, she was worried about some new detective harassing her.

Callum: I see. (sighing)

Estrella: I wouldn’t worry about Vittoria anymore. She’s gone.

Callum: It’s not Vittoria that concerns me. It’s her contacts. Brendon got his claws back into her while she was supposedly loyal to me. It just makes me wonder who I can trust.

Estrella (her mind working hard to get him off the subject of Brendon): This isn’t about Brendon or Vittoria. It’s about Chloe. You still think I had something to do with your son’s kidnapping. I keep telling you I had nothing—(taking a deep breath) I didn’t know that the baby she had was yours. She came to me for help.

Callum: Yada, yada, yada! I’ve heard it all. I have no way of linking you to this scheme other than your having Chloe as an evening snack. (turning to leave) Anyway, I’ll let you get to your appointment.

Vittoria (opening the door and getting inside the car): Have a nice day, Callum.

Callum (turning around): And, Estrella, I just wanted to warn you that I don’t respond that well to backstabbing. Brendon is going down for his involvement in my attempted murder… and so is anyone else connected with him. Let that be a warning to you as well, regarding the kidnapping, which is as much an offense against me as Brendon’s.

He got into his car and sped off. Estrella let out a long sigh of relief. She had avoided that disaster, but Callum was on a mission for blood. I should warn Brendon, but I’m already late for this interview. She started the car and drove away.

PEYTON’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS

Drake and Bralen had been packing the DVDs for almost two hours. Bralen had soon realized that trash bags weren’t such a good idea as they began to tear with the weight of too many cases. Drake suggested boxes, and they worked another half hour repacking the cases into boxes until Drake’s stomach growled, embarrassing him as the sound echoed in the cellar. They took a brief break to raid Peyton’s refrigerator for food before heading back downstairs to finish the job, Drake not having anything else to do for the rest of the day. They were close to packing the last box when Drake heard foosteps upstairs.

Drake (putting finger to mouth): Shh! Do you hear that, Bralen? Someone’s upstairs.

Bralen: But the front door is locked.

Drake (seizing a broom as a weapon): Let’s check it out.

They crept up the stairs into Peyton’s room. Drake was in front and tiptoed to the source of the noise. There was definitely someone in the house, for he heard rumblnig. He immediately thought it was a burglar and firmly grasped onto the broom as he entered the livnig room.

Drake: Who’s there?

He heard a woman scream before a glass was thrown at him. It bounced off his chest, but the scotch inside it splashed all over him. The woman—elderly and well-dressed—continued screaming as she began throwing other objects at him, including silverware and a lamp that smashed into pieces when Drake ducked, and it consequently hit the floor.

Drake (shouting): Who the hell are you?

Priscilla: I think I might ask the same question of you, trying to rob my son’s home. I didn’t think these things happened in Beverly Hills.

Bralen (hiding behind Drake): Priscilla? Is that you?

Priscilla: Who’s that?

Bralen: It’s Bralen. Bralen Jones. This is my friend Drake.

Hearing Bralen’s voice, Priscilla ended her spree of throwing projectiles at Drake.

Priscilla (exhaling a deep sigh): Why the hell didn’t you say so? (pause) What the hell are you doing here? You two weren’t doing any hanky-panky in my son’s room?

Drake (defensively): No, ma’am. I’m a married man.

Priscilla (her eyes enlarged): What the hell?

Drake (realizing her confusion): No… no… I’m married as in to a man. I’m gay.

Bralen (still seeing puzzlement on her face): Priscilla, I can explain. Drake is from Massachusetts. He and his partner Austin recently moved here from Boston.

Priscilla: And where is his partner? In the room also? Were you having a threeway back there?

Drake: Oh, no ma’am. I’m completely committed to my man.

Bralen: Drake was just helping me clean the place for your arrival.

Priscilla (to Drake): I’m so sorry for overreacting. I went from thinking you were a burglar to thinking you were perhaps role-playing as one. You gays can be such freaky bastards.

Drake: I don’t know how to respond to that.

Bralen: Priscilla is quite the hoot. You’ll soon get used to her humor.

Priscilla (continuing her tirade): Well, it’s true. You were with Bralen, who arguably besides my son is into some freaky stuff. Do you still have that whipped cream fetish? (noticing Bralen blush) Anyway, where are my manners? I’m Priscilla Ashland, Peyton’s mother.

Drake (shaking hands with her): I’m Drake Michener. I’m really sorry to have frightened you.

Priscilla: Well, it’s a good thing you’re gay otherwise I’d be all over you since you’re quite hot. (noticing Drake’s surprised expression) Oh, calm down, Boy! As Bralen can tell you, I’m a harmless “cougar” as your generation would call me. (reaching out to touch Drake)

Drake (backing away from her): Uh—excuse me—

Priscilla (moving upon him): I was just going to get you out of your jacket. Don’t look at me that way. You don’t want to smell like a drunken fairy, do you? Here, let me put this jacket in the washer. (pinching his cheeks) You’ll be smelling baby fresh in no time.

Once she had gone down the hall to the washroom, Drake turned to Bralen, his face a concrete expression of shock that read what the hell have I got myself into? Bralen came over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Bralen: You’ve been bitten by the Priscilla bug. Don’t worry. The shock’ll wear off soon.

Drake (still shocked): Wh-Who was that? W-What?

Bralen: She’s more animated now than usual. It’s mostly a cover. Peyton was her only child. I’m sure she’s torn up inside. Anyway, we had better get back to work.

Drake (suddenly remembering his jacket): Holy shit! (rushing down the hall and into laundry room)

Priscilla: What’s all the commotion?

Drake: Uh—Mrs. Ashland, where’s my jacket?

Priscilla: It’s in the washer, Sweetheart. Why are you so alarmed?

Drake: I—uh—

Priscilla: Were you looking for this? (brandishing the DVD case)

Drake (going red in the face): I’m so embarrassed. Thanks for finding my—

Priscilla: This belongs to my Peyton, Sweet Cheeks. (noticing Drake’s face) You didn’t think I knew about his collection. I came across it a few years back when I had a dry spell and needed a quick fix of liquor. Imagine my surprise when I opened the wrong door.

Drake: Mrs. Ashland, there must be some mistake. (reaching for the case, she jerks it away from him) That’s mine.

Priscilla: You’re such a liar. Can’t you see the tag Peyton put on it to categorize it? He was always so precise.

Drake (trying to snatch it from her): Please.

Priscilla: Drake, you’re a married man. What use have you for dirty porn? Does your husband know you have such an addiction?

Drake: You don’t understand.

Priscilla (waving the DVD in front of him, her composure slowly weakening): No, it’s you who don’t understand. I won’t have anyone stealing anything from my son. (beginning to cry) and for the time being, I’m not parting with anyting of his. (putting the DVD case into her bosom) Now, how about you go and make me a nice drink? And while you’re at it, tell Bralen he can stop with the packing. (she grasps Drake’s cheeks and pinches them)

Defeated, he walked off in search of Bralen. Once he was gone, Priscilla broke out into sobs.

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Callum was on his way home when he got a call from Tristan. He didn’t answer it but waited until it went to voicemail. It was one message laced with anger, Callum called everything bad in the book. Tristan was upset by the fact that the police had confiscated many of Vittoria’s belongings, many of which were obviously incriminating—the biggest one being the crowbar that magically appeared hidden in her closet. Tristan had immediately known Callum was behind this and launched into a vicious tirade, which culminated in his demand for money in exchange for his silence over Edward’s real paternity. Still on that train, eh? I’ll show you who’s in charge! When Callum got to Tristan’s home, he was met with Heath answering the door.

Callum (seeing his new hairstyle): Jesus! Heath, you look like you stuck your head in the LaBrea Tar Pits. You should know Allison doesn’t hibernate there until winter.

Heath (listlessly): Hi, Callum.

Callum: I was hoping to speak with Tristan.

Heath: He’s not here right now.

Callum (peeking into the apartment): Oh, but Kyle is. (entering the apartment) How’s the investigation going?

Kyle (coming forward): It looks like Vittoria was definitely responsible for the attacks on Chloe and Allison. Her prints were found on another gun in your house, and ballistics show this was the gun that was used to shoot Allison. Plus Justin confessed to her selling him drugs, which corroborates Chloe’s claim. Vittoria must have paid Vladimir Popov, that horserider, to incriminate Peyton. Unfortunately, we can’t locate him anywhere. He’s disappeared.

Callum: You said yesterday during the interrogation at the police station that you had shown Peyton Vittoria’s mug shot at the hospital.

Kyle: Yeah, I had foolishly told him that she was my prime suspect, and that the rest of the division thought he was, given how remarkably well Popov had described Peyton as “the shooter in the park.” My guess is Peyton did some investigating of his own, arrived at the same conclusion, and confronted Vittoria at one point or another. Maybe she followed him to your house and then—well, we know what happened next.

Callum: I just want to put all this behind me. It was such a tragedy and to have Peyton die in my arms.

Heath (putting his hand to his mouth): Oh my God!

Callum: So are you and Heath back together?

Kyle (looking at Heath): No, I—uh—was just here following up on the—

Callum: Well, it’s really none of my business.

Kyle (phone ringing and answering): Excuse me. (coming back a few seconds later) I should get going. (to Heath) Why don’t we make that “appointment for lunch” soon?

Heath: Okay, sure.

Callum (once Kyle had left): So he hasn’t been back since the police left?

Heath (staring into space): Who?

Callum: Tristano, the man with whom you’re obsessed. (pause) Heath, is there something wrong? You seem distant.

Heath: I’m just not feeling well. Peyton and Vittoria’s deaths and all, you know. (picking up the remote to distract himself, begins channel surfing)

Callum: Would you stop that? I’m talking to you, Heathcliff. It’s very important I find Tristano.

Heath (dismissively): Just call him. (his expression visibly changing as he looked at the screen)

Callum: Heath, what’s wrong? (his attention now drawn to the television, where Estrella is onscreen being interviewed) Do you know her?

Heath: I know that bitch very well. She’s hitting on Tristan, trying to steal him from me.

Callum (laughing): What have you been drinking?

Heath: I’m telling you the truth. I once walked in on them, having sex right here in this room.

Callum (flabbergasted): I don’t understand. Tristano’s gay.

Heath: Well, that cunt was blackmailing him with something. I don’t know what it’s about, but I walked in on her trying to have sex with him again… this time in the hospital the day after he was pulled from the river. Vittoria and I were so worried about him—she more so than usual.

Callum: What?

Heath: I got the impression they were supposed to meet up somewhere later. She kept calling his cell.

Callum: But you’re absolutely certain that (pointing to the television) was the woman you caught with Tristano?

Heath: I’m absolutely positive. I’d know that skank anywhere. She knows to stay away from my man. I gave her one big greeting in the hospital (turning around to see that Callum had left, the door wide open)

He had elected not to stay for further details of how Heath handled Estrella. He had just found the missing link between her and the scheme to kidnap Edward, and that was all Callum needed to add her to his growing list of betrayers.

THREE DAYS LATER… MORNING, DAY OF PEYTON’S FUNERAL

Talon had just finished his breakfast when Callum came into the kitchen. Talon put down the newspaper and Callum looked at the remnants on his plate.

Callum: Kidneys and toast for breakfast? Are we getting too nostalgic for the homeland?

Talon: I needed protein. (winking) Lord knows I’m not getting any.

Callum: Would you kiss your mum with that mouth?

Talon: No, but you’ll suffice for now (rising from the chair and kissing him). Are you sure you don’t want me to take the day off?

Callum: You just started this week. What impression would that give them?

Talon: Well, I just wanted to be there for you. I know how much you hate funerals.

Callum: I’ll be fine.

Talon: I’m sorry I haven’t had much time for you. This job has exhausted me like no other.

Callum (sotto voce): That would also be the sleeping pills I’ve put in your evening tea. (aloud) You should save some of your energy.

Talon: I love you.

At that moment, they both heard the doorbell ring. Godfrey soon came into the kitchen.

Callum: Who is it?

Godfrey (dramatically clearing his throat): It’s Mr. Moynihan.

Callum (dropping his teacup, crashes to the floor): Bloody hell!

Talon (managerially): Godfrey, would you clean this? I’ll see to this Mr. Moynihan.

Callum (grabbbing Talon’s arm): No, that won’t be necessary. (to Godfrey) Tell Nathan that I’ll be out shortly. Keep him in the sitting room.

Talon: What’s going on? You look ashen.

Callum (angrily): It’s nothing for you to worry yourself—oww—(having cut his finger)

Talon (doting): Here, let’s clean it. (taking him over to the kitchen sink to place his finger under the water)

It was at that moment Nathan could be heard coming toward them.

Nathan: Callum, are you okay?

Callum (looking like a doe caught in the headlights): Talon.

Talon: Yes?

Callum: I love you. (grasping his head and pulling him in for a kiss, his hands securely latched to keep Talon’s back to Nathan’s entrance)

Nathan (seeing the spectacle): Oh, I’m sorry.

Talon tried to break free for air, but Callum held his head firmly, his tongue working its magic inside Talon’s mouth. Callum’s eyes met those of Nathan’s, whose were filled with absolute surprise. Talon successfully extricated himself from Callum’s grasp, but before he could turn to view their spectator, Callum grabbed Talon’s neck and drew his mouth to it to suck on it. Fortunately, Godfrey arrived in time to escort Nathan away, who took his cue and soon the left the house.

Talon: My God, I love it when you get these unexpected fits of passion. Are you sure you want me to go to work?

Callum (recomposing himself): Yes, consider that a preview for tonight.

Talon (kissing him): Then I anxiously await closing time. (rushing back upstairs)

Godfrey (coming into the kitchen): That was very close.

Callum: Too close for comfort.

Godfrey: Somehow I’m sure Mr. Prescott didn’t mind.

Callum: Has Nathan left?

Godfrey: Yes, I believe he saw more than he expected. It’s just as well that he loses interest in you. It’ll make it easier for you remain focused.

Callum: But Talon still remains a problem.

Godfrey: You’re torn among three men. There’s your devotion to Lord Armitage, your lust for Mr. Prescott, and your growing love for Mr. Moynihan.

Callum: And Gavin would kill me if I ended up with either of them.

Godfrey: Anyway, you should prepare for the memorial service.

Talon soon came into the room, kissed Callum, and left for work.

WEST LOS ANGELES CEMETERY, MID MORNING

Natalie Merchant’s “Life Is Sweet” plays as the sunlight falls onto the graveyard as a small group of mourners have gathered outside. Marble headstones can be seen in the distance, sunbeams reflecting off their surface. Weeping is heard, and handkerchiefs are in full display. The majority of the people present are Outrunners, all wearing the customary color of black so that should one have an aerial view, it would appear as if an ink stain were in implanted in the green. The somber ambience was suddenly punctuated by mild laughter as Priscilla made a remark that the only man she and Peyton loved equally—besides his late father—was Jack Daniels.  She spoke of sensing from a young age that something was different about her boy, partially blaming his homosexuality on the numerous trips they would take to see Broadway musicals every year.

She had on a smoothly flowing black frock that billowed in the breeze that blew through, temporarily relieving everyone from the stifling heat of the August day. Allison next spoke of Peyton as a man who was of honorable stature in the medical field, admired by his colleagues, and was generous in volunteering his time and treasure to worthy causes. It was here that Priscilla interrupted Allison—in a rather gauche manner—to reference that she would be devoting a decent portion of Peyton’s bequest to Outrunners and many other LGBT organizations that were dear to Peyton’s heart.

Bralen next gave a eulogy about how he and Peyton were childhood buds who always got into trouble whether it was for stealing cookies or getting caught going through Mrs. Ashland’s lingerie. Everyone in the audience laughed at that, some indubitably imagining the boys trying on the garments. Drake was laughing so hard he didn’t see Priscilla slither beside him, her lips brushing against his ears.

Priscilla (whispering): I once caught them looking through my late husband’s dirty mags.

Drake (smelling the liquor on her breath): Mrs. Ashland?

Priscilla (looping her arm in his): Come with me. We don’t need to hear the rest of this. It’s all recycled from one person to the next.

Drake: I-I don’t think—

Priscilla: Let’s not make a scene, Sweet Cheeks! (her hand dipping into her purse to pull out the tip of the DVD)

Drake (shocked and moving with her a few yards away): You brought that here!

Priscilla: For the past few days, you’ve been all kind to this old broad, and I got to thinking it must be something you want—and it ain’t what’s between these legs. I know you had wanted this (gesturing to the purse) but I didn’t know why until last night.

Drake (his eyes bulging): You didn’t?

Priscilla (a Cheshire grin on her face): Does your hubby know you can get really nasty with a roomful of men?

Drake would have fainted had it not been a shocking distraction that drew everyone’s attention.

ONE HOUR EARLIER… CALLUM’S HOUSE, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Callum had been rather uneasy since the whole Talon/Nathan debacle. He calmed down, changed into designer clothing befitting the occasion, and was about to leave the house when Godfrey met him at the door, holding Edward in his arms. Callum automatically kissed the baby, tears coming to his eyes as he did so, and he then turned the knob of the door, sunlight coming into the house.

Godfrey: I took the liberty of dressing him.

Callum (turning around, sniffling): Pardon?

Godfrey (gesturing to Edward dressed in black): I thought you might want to take him. It is after all his father’s funeral.

Callum (giving a sigh of reluctance): Where’s Inga? I’m already running late.

Godfrey: She’s too distraught to go.

Callum: She didn’t really care for Peyton.

Godfrey: It was too much for her to see his dead body when she came to get Edward after Mr. Prescott had snatched him away from her last Sunday. (pause) I thought I might accompany you so that I could look after Edward and likewise pay my final respects.

Owing to this late development, they arrived at the service very late, catching the ending of the formal memorial within the church. When they filed out the church, Callum stopped Priscilla as she was coming down the steps.

Callum: Mrs. Ashland, my name is Callum Sutcliffe.

Priscilla: I know about you. I read that you were with my son when he died.

Callum: I am so sorry for your loss. Peyton was an exceptional man.

Priscilla: Thank you. Did you know my son well?

Callum: Pardon?

Priscilla (moving closer to his face): Mr. Sutcliffe, my son was a gay man in Los Angeles. I never know if every man I speak with is a former flame, a platonic friend, or his fuck buddy from last week. (her attention suddenly distracted by the baby in Godfrey’s arms, her finger lovingly brushing his little cheek) And who is this little angel?

Callum: That would be my son Edward Armitage.

Priscilla (sighing): I guess I won’t get the luxury of being a doting grandmother. Peyton was my only child. I figured that was the end when Peyton told me he was into men.

At that moment, Priscilla was pulled away to rejoin the procession on their way to the cemetery. Callum exchanged a brief look with Godfrey, reading his mind that Priscilla had just met her grandchild.

Callum (once Priscilla was out of earshot): She’s a charming woman, but now I know the origin of Peyton’s bibulous addictions.  Did you smell her? It was a like battle between Jack Daniels and Estee Lauder with the former clearly winning.

Callum and Godfrey followed the procession to the burial site and remained at the far end of the mourning throng away from everyone. Callum much preferred the distance, and he didn’t want to start anything since he had seen Chloe and Allison. Everybody began saying their graveside remarks about Peyton, getting different reactions that ranged from laughter to audible sobs. Callum watched and listened from afar, thinking of how his life had changed due to Peyton. When I first met him, he genuinely wanted to help me through my own grief. Losing Gavin had been so hard on me, and Peyton only desired for me to come out of therapy a stronger person. This is a funeral, not a wedding. I can’t hold my peace.

Callum motioned through the crowd to get to the speaker’s location. He saw several Outrunners gasping and reacting to his presence at the service. He saw Kyle’s hand tighten on Allison’s arm, her eyes suddenly burning red.

Callum: Many of you know me. My name is Callum. I was with Peyton when—(choking on a sob that escaped his mouth). Excuse me. I was going to remain silent about the man who was the epitome of charity. I knew him for just one year, and he only desired the best for me.

Allison (shouting): And you gave him the worst of you!

Callum (ignoring her as Kyle restrained her and whispered something into her ear): He saw me through the darkest time of my life when I lost my husband. If I had known that one year later—

Allison (breaking free of Kyle): That you would kill him!

Callum (crying): Allison, please! Let’s not do this here. I loved Peyton.

Allison: Is that why you were blackmailing him?

Callum (wiping away tears): Now is not the time for this.

Allison (shrugging off Kyle): How dare you come here! You have no right being here.

Callum: He died in my arms!

Allison: It should have been the other way around. You should be the one being put into the ground.

Kyle (amid the gasps of the crowd): Allison, come on. You’ve said enough.

Allison: He would still be with us if it weren’t for you, Callum. Everyone needs protection from you. (looking to the sky) I promise you, Peyton, wherever you are that I’ll make him pay.

Callum: That’s enough, Allison! I understand you’re grieving like the rest of us, but you shouldn’t use Peyton’s memorial service as a platform for revenge. And as for protection, the one who needed it most was my son Edward, who was kidnapped by your chemically unbalanced partner. (speaking to the crowd) Did you know that Peyton was there by my side, giving me support during that trying time? And just where were you, Allison? (aggressively approaching her) Oh yeah, that’s right, you were in Britain trying to dig up dirt on me.

Allison: And I found some.

Callum: Yeah, and whilst you were finding it—(under his breath just so that Allison can hear) Estrella was finding her way to Chloe’s clit.

Allison threw him a wild punch, knocking him back into the floral arrangements that consequently fell into the pit where Peyton was to be laid to rest. Callum regained his balance, looking at the startled crowd before him as he wiped his lip.

Callum: My word, Allison. You’re getting good with your right hand hook. Clearly you’ve been drinking some of Bralen’s juice. (moving closer to her) But you should take your jealousy up with Estrella. She was able to find something you had been in search of for many years.

Allison shoved him away with all the force in her body, and he fell into the pit, his lone scream echoing for the short distance before his body hit the bottom. She then saw a shovel nearby, seized it, and hit at Callum as he tried to climb from the hole. Kyle grabbed her, apprehending the shovel as Nathan rushed forward to help Callum out the hole.

Allison (pointing her finger at him, tears flowing down her face, screaming): You bastard! You’re responsible for this! Peyton’s dead because of you, and I swear to you on his soul that you will pay for this! You may consider it child’s play, but this is war!

TO BE CONTINUED…

Next Post

The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 22: “Past Regrets”

Cast of New Characters (for this episode)

Priscilla Ashland: sassy and sophisticated, cheeky, average height, late 60’s, blue eyes, sable hair, sexually self-assured mother to Peyton Ashland

Ryan Cabrera’s “True” opens this episode as Talon moves onto the bed, placing his firm body atop Callum’s, their eyes locked in hungry, fevered passion for each other. Callum’s fingertips danced playfully upon the top of Talon’s muscular back, which tensed as he moved his mouth southward to connect with his lover, their tongues in contact as the heat of their touching skin eventually gave way to sweat. Callum’s hands then went to cradle Talon’s head as they continued kissing, Callum moving his mouth to caress Talon’s neck.

Talon: I’ve wanted you for so long now.

Callum (breathily): I know.

He felt the bristles of Talon’s facial hair brush against his soft skin as the man nibbled on his neck and then kissed and suckled briefly on the lobe of his ear, Callum releasing a brief moan. He felt Talon’s strong legs muscles working atop his lower body, and they would soon be fast at work trying to pry his own apart so that the conquest would be easier.

Talon: You’re not putting up much a fight, Sutcliffe.

Callum (breathily once more): Just shut up and kiss me.

Their mouths touched again, Callum loving the warmth of Talon’s lips, his teeth latching onto the lower one and tugging on it. Talon’s hands went to Callum’s shirt, grasping it at the collar and ripping it open, the buttons cascading over his body. Callum wanted to shout at him, alerting him to the fact that he had just damaged a Versace original, but was prevented when Talon’s mouth—pulling from Callum’s—went straight to his exposed nipples and bit at them in retaliation for the lip war which Callum had started.

The hotness of the saliva in tandem with Talon’s clever tongue sent Callum into a fierce fit of writhing passion as he felt Talon’s hands now succeeding in separating his legs. Talon next advanced his body further upon Callum, his weight pinning him to the mattress. Callum could feel Talon’s raging erection through his boxer briefs. Grinding his body into Callum, he soon witnessed the young man’s mouth beginning to curl open to release a loud moan of ecstasy.

Talon (clamping his hand over Callum’s mouth): Shh! You don’t want anyone to hear you.

Callum (lovingly biting Talon’s finger): I don’t care.

Talon: I love you.

Callum (breathily): I know. (raising his mouth to kiss Talon as his hands reach down to yank off Talon’s underwear, his hands spanking his exposed bottom)

Talon (looking lovingly into his eyes): Are you sure you want to do this?

A short pause took place as Callum aggressively rose from his position to push Talon over on his side, next putting himself atop Talon. Callum dramatically kissed the fingertips of his own hand before bringing them down to place upon Talon’s lips. Moments later Talon felt Callum’s mouth upon his cock, excitedly sucking it as if it held the elixir of life. He always loved how Callum could make this part seem so sexually primal yet so full of profound feeling as he at all times made sure they were holding at least one hand together, their fingers interlaced, as if the oral action were only supplementary to this more natural tactile connection.

Talon soon returned the favor, taking his precious time once again as his mouth moved over the sensitive areas of Callum’s body, which he had long missed with a burning fervor. It felt great to have this reconnection with him, his tongue journeying to numerous places that tickled and tantalized Callum, causing Talon to laugh to himself as he realized he hadn’t forgotten any of his lover’s pleasure spots. It was at the moment that his tongue hit the most prominent one in his memory that Callum unleashed a loud moan that complemented the quivering nature of his body’s reaction.

Talon (rushing up to Callum’s mouth): Shh!

Callum (immediately kissing him): As if you really care if anyone hears.

Talon: I want to be with you, Callum… have you! (lying his head upon Callum’s chest, hearing his heart beating rapidly)

Callum (whispering into his Talon’s nearest ear): You can have me now.

Talon (a lone tear coming into his eye): I want you always.

They kissed once more before Callum felt Talon enter him, closing his eyes at the slight hint of mild pain before his body warmly accepted him. He could feel his own breathing increase, his heartbeat race as he locked eyes with Talon, their sweaty bodies pressed tight against each other as Talon pressed forward, a fiery determination present in his eyes. Callum raised both his legs and wrapped them around Talon, effectively locking them both together, two living bodies as one, two chests compressed against each other, their hearts vibrating in unison.

In spite of an oncoming cramp, Callum held his legs in this position, not wanting to let Talon go, and Talon for his part became more rhythmic at his task, his pelvis embarking on a mission of its own. His powerful thrusts and their effects became too much for Callum, whose mouth once more unleashed another wail of carnal rapture, yet this time Talon’s hand fiercely clamped over it as he continued pumping forth with his mission. Callum didn’t resist this display of dominance, for he knew the precarious situation in which they were, his only recourse to look into Talon’s eyes, seeing the beautiful soul that dwelled behind them. Callum at last straightened his legs and tried to move to alleviate the pain of the cramp, but Talon held him down, his other hand immediately going to massage the area as if their minds were one, and he knew where the pain was.

Talon (removing his hand from Callum’s mouth): I love you.

Callum (breathily): And I—uh—ohhhh!

Talon: I love—uh—

Their bodies were momentarily gripped in this mutual state of climax, the orgasm having its domain initially over Callum as his body reacted accordingly. Talon, feeling the immediate effects of Callum’s reaction upon his already moist skin, likewise shared the same feeling of his own body being suspended in this moment of indescribable pleasure as he gave into his own orgasm, which was heightened by the beauty of looking into Callum’s eyes.

He tried to pry himself away from Callum, but he felt Callum’s hands upon his back, holding him down. Talon didn’t want to move, either, yearning to stay in that position eternally, feeling connected to his lover in the most beautiful way, conjoined simultaneously at the eyes and where their union felt right. They stayed in this position for another few minutes before Talon pulled away. He looked over and saw that Callum was crying.

Talon (urgently): I didn’t hurt you, did I?

Callum (teary-eyed): You could never hurt me, Talon.

He then silently rose from the bed and rushed into the bathroom, Talon looking at his retreating figure. Talon took in a deep breath and exhaled, wanting to be forever lost in the magic they had just shared, for it was indeed a special day for them both. For Talon, it had been the first time he had reconnected with Callum in a matter of years.

For Callum, the day held much meaning as it was his wedding day to Lord Gavin Armitage.

BRENDON AND NATHAN’S OLD HOME, SILVER LAKE, SUNDAY EVENING

Nathan was resting peacefully in the bedroom when Brendon left for the kitchen to prepare something to eat, their makeup sex having stimulated his appetite. As he came into hall, he saw a sliver of light issuing from Justin’s room. Brendon crept to it and peeked inside. Justin’s back was to him, but he could see clothing being stuffed into a carry-on suitcase. The sound of the door slamming shut startled the young man, interrupting his task. He turned around to face his father.

Brendon: And just where do you think you’re going?

Justin (grabbing the suitcase): The hell away from here!

Brendon (stopping him from moving forward): You’re not going anywhere!

Justin: Get out of my way!

Brendon: Or else what? You’ll try to drown me as well. Yeah, I saw you. I can’t believe—(pause) Why?

Justin: I hate him.

Brendon (coming face to face): Justin, you attempted to kill another person.

Justin: He made me do it.

Brendon: Stop lying to me. I saw the whole thing. You attacked him.

Justin: I’m telling the—

Brendon: Just shut up, Justin! I know what you’re doing. I wasn’t born yesterday.

Justin: And I was born nearly seventeen years ago, or did you forget that? You just couldn’t wait to forget about me so that you can live it up here in LA with your big Hollywood parties.

Brendon: Justin, it’s not like that. I have apologized for what I did, but that’s no excuse for what you did.

Justin: Sure it is. The facts don’t lie. Fatherless kids are more likely to do criminal activity.

Brendon: You’re not pinning this on me, young man. You know better. What did Nathan ever do to you?

Justin: He took you away from us… me and Mom.

Brendon: Justin, that’s not true, and it isn’t fair to him. I met him a few years after moving here.

Justin: I still hate him, and you can’t do anything about that.

Brendon: You’re going to tell the police you’re lying. I’ll be damned if Nathan goes to jail.

Justin: Why? You’re scared he’ll find someone else to fuck—uh, I mean love—him behind bars?

Brendon (aggressively grabbing the collar of Justin’s shirt, tugging on it): Listen, Boy, I’ve had enough of your trouble. You’re going to march your ass over to Kyle’s and confess everything.

Justin (his feet slightly coming off the ground): And if I don’t?

Brendon (yanks harder on collar, Justin’s face comes into contact his angrily contorted face): I know Vittoria supplies you with drugs. She works for me.

Justin’s eyes dilated at the reference to Vittoria. Brendon relaxed his grip, bringing Justin’s feet back to the ground. The young man tried to recompose himself, taking a deep breath, a pall of fear fell over him.

Justin (backing away): Okay, okay. I’ll tell the truth.

Brendon: Good, son. Consider it a late Father’s Day gift.

Brendon left the room, feeling happy with himself. He still couldn’t shake off the awkward feeling that his son would have committed murder had it not been for Allison’s fortuitous arrival. The thought of murder jolted his mind to Vittoria. He called her to get the status of their project. Now that I have Nathan back, I can’t risk losing him to Callum. Why the hell is she not answering? She had better not be chickening out on me. I’ll just leave her a friendly text message, reminding her of what is at stake if she doesn’t come through. It was after sending the message that he thought to check his own email and voicemail, whereupon he soon learned of her fate.

ALLISON AND CHLOE’S HOME, LOS FELIZ, SUNDAY EVENING

Allison took a sip of red wine and looked at Chloe sitting next to her on the couch, a perfect display of feminine pulchritude. She had her pink feet hidden under the couch cushions, and her hair was still stringy with wetness from her recent shower. She and Allison had a heart-to-heart talk after she had told her the bad news about Peyton. Allison had suggested she take a soothing bath to relax her nerves. Allison wanted to go to the police station to speak with Kyle, but she knew Chloe needed her attention.

Chloe: I can’t believe he’s gone. Have you heard anything else?

Allison: No, just the phone call from Kyle, and he didn’t give me any other details. He just said Peyton died in an accident.

Chloe: Nathan needs to send out an email out to the group.

Allison: Nathan?

Chloe: He’s club president. He should inform everyone of this tragedy.

Allison: I’m sure he knows by now. He had a near run-in with death himself earlier today.

Chloe: What?

Allison: When I went looking for him, he wasn’t at home. I went over to their old house in Silver Lake and found Nathan unconscious in the pool.

Chloe: Oh my God, Allison!

Allison: Don’t worry. I gave him mouth to mouth and revived him.

Chloe (reaching over to take her hand): You saved his life.

Allison: But I wasn’t able to save poor Peyton.

Chloe: You can’t save everyone, but I know he will always have a place in your heart.

Allison: Who? Nathan?

Chloe (yawning): No, silly, I was talking about Peyton.

Allison: Oh yeah, I don’t know where my mind was.

Chloe: I hope for your sake Nathan didn’t mistake the CPR for a kiss.

Chloe rose and went to bed. Allison soon followed suit, her mind ravaged by all the events of the day. Her body yearned for sleep, but as she laid her head on the pillow, she found herself thinking about Nathan before slumber overtook her.

RODRIGO’S APARTMENT, HOLLYWOOD, SUNDAY EVENING

Rodrigo had got back into town after having to leave on an emergency visit to Riverside to check on his mother, whose health had been declining. Upon getting to his apartment, he picked up the phone and called his friends, the band of thugs, who informed him that they did a real number on the guy he had pointed out to them. Mr. Sutcliffe should be really proud of me. I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow. It was at this point he placed the photo of Tristan and Nathan on the collage. I should celebrate. It was when he went to unwind at a bar on Santa Monica Boulevard in West Hollywood that he saw his goons had mucked up their plans or had blatantly lied to him. Tristan Bersani was sitting at the bar next to him, sorrowfully drowning himself in alcohol.

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, SUNDAY EVENING

After it had been declared safe for them to return to the apartment, Heath and Bralen went back inside. Bralen then broke the bad news of Peyton’s death to Heath, who had to sit down to digest the full impact of the shock. He held back his tears of grief just as he was holding back those of regret. Where is Tristan? I really need him. His body overwhelmed with all the day’s misfortunes, Heath laid his head on the couch pillow and closed his eyes. Bralen looked at him sleeping peacefully and had thought about leaving him but remembered his pledge to Heath that he would stay until Tristan arrived. Nearly two hours had passed before there was a knock at the door. Bralen went to it, thinking it was Tristan who may have lost his keys, but to his surprise it was Kyle.

Bralen: Kyle?

Kyle: Is he okay? (pushing inside)

It was so awkward for Bralen to see him so soon. Just that morning they had regretted kissing each other. There was another uncomfortable exchange of looks between them as Bralen gestured over to Heath’s sleeping figure on the couch. All Kyle could see was an orb of black snuggled against a pillow, prompting him to do a double take. Bralen quickly explained that Heath had dyed his hair.

Kyle: You said that he was attacked. Who did it? Where did it happen?

Bralen: You should ask him. (pause) I-I’m going to leave now. I-I still can’t believe that Peyton’s gone.

Kyle: And so is Tristan’s roommate.

Bralen: What?

Kyle: This is to be kept between us until it’s been released, but Vittoria shot Peyton. She fell down the stairs and broke her neck afterwards.

Bralen: Oh my God! Where was this?

Kyle: Look, I’ve told you more than I should right now.

Bralen (turning to leave): Okay, well, thanks.

Kyle: And Bralen (pause) thanks for looking out for him (gesturing to Heath).

Bralen: No problem. (he leaves)

Kyle (having walked over to the couch and sitting on the couch): Heath. (gently shaking him)

Heath (shouting): No! (opening his eyes) Oh, Kyle, it’s you.

His arms fly out and around Kyle as The Pretenders’ “I’ll Stand by You” starts playing softly in the background. Heath’s eyes gave way to a flood, his body softening in Kyle’s embrace as his tears wet the fabric of Kyle’s shirt. Kyle tried to pull himself from Heath to face him, but Heath’s grasp was too strong.

Heath: Just hold me.

Kyle: Okay.

They held each other in silence for a few minutes before Kyle successfully pulled himself away from Heath, whose eyes were all watery and red. He also saw the bruises and cuts on his skin.

Kyle: Now tell me what happened. Bralen said you were attacked.

Heath: Th-They just came at me.

Kyle: They? It was a group?

Heath: it was like four of them. They jumped me in the parking lot.

Kyle: Where?

Heath: At the Hawk Eye. (seeing Kyle pulling out his phone) What are you doing?

Kyle: I’m calling the Hawk Eye—

Heath: No! Don’t!

Kyle (dropping the phone): Oh my God, Heath! What’s wrong? You’re trembling.

Heath (throwing his arms around Kyle again): I-I’m so sorry for everything, Kyle. (breaking down into a fit of tears) I never—

Kyle: Never mind that. Right now I’m concerned about you. I don’t understand why you weren’t taken to the hospital. Your cuts are dressed, but I could swear I felt a lump on your back head.

Heath: I don’t want to go to the hospital.

Kyle: Heath, you need to be checked out. You could have suffered a concussion.

Heath: I suffered far worse than that.

Kyle (softly): What happened?

Heath (crying again): They held a knife to me and made me do stuff to them.

Kyle: Oh my God! I-I’m so sorry, Heath.

Heath (continuing): They forced themselves into me, pinning me to the ground, threatening to kill me if I screamed. One of them nearly broke my arm holding it behind my back. I had never been so scared in all my life.

Kyle (rising from couch): That’s it. We’re going down to the station. We have to report this.

Heath (pleadingly): No, Kyle, I can’t!

Kyle (sitting back down and taking Heath’s face into his hands): Look at me. I promise you I’m going to get the sick sons-of-bitches who did this to you, but I need your help.

Heath (shaking his head): Please don’t make me do this!

Kyle (urgently): We have to—

Heath (pushing him away and rising): I thought you would understand.

Kyle: Heath, you were sexually assaulted.

Heath: I was raped! (the sound of a key fumbling in the lock can be heard) That’s probably Tristan. Please don’t tell him.

Tristan at last succeeded in stumbling into the apartment. Just one glance at him told them both he was drunk, let alone he gave off the stench of alcohol. Despite his inebriated state, he had enough clarity of mind to remember his sworn war with Kyle.

Tristan: What the fuck are you doing here?

Kyle (looking down at Heath’s pleading face and eyes): I—uh—came to see how you were holding up. I guess I got my answer. You look—

Tristan: Hammered? So what? I just lost my best friend and had to call her mother in Italy to break the news to her. Can you imagine what that’s like?

Kyle: I’m really sorry.

Tristan: Then get off my fucking case.

Kyle: Just stay in for the rest of the night. You definitely shouldn’t be out or driving in your condition.

Tristan (stumbling over a pair of Vittoria’s shoes): Don’t worry about that, Kyle. (sitting next to Heath on the couch) I plan on staying home (ostensibly laying his hand on Heath’s inner leg) for some real comforting.

Kyle noticed the look of uneasiness on Heath’s face with Tristan touching him. Even though Tristan was drunk, Kyle still wanted to break his neck. The insensitive bastard can’t even see the bruises on Heath. It was just as Kyle was about to take action that Heath pushed away Tristan’s roaming hand as it reached his groin. Heath shot up from the couch and darted into the other room.

Tristan (to Kyle): What the fuck is his problem?

Kyle: You! (marching out the living room to find Heath in the bedroom) Do you want to come home with me? I-I know that sounds awkward but given what just happened.

Heath: I can handle Tristan.

Kyle: Are you sure you want to stay? (Heath nods) You call me if he tries anything funny. (turning to go)

Heath: Kyle?

Kyle: Yes?

Heath (long pause): I just—uh—want (sniffling) to thank you for not telling him.

Kyle (eyes watering): You know I would do anything for you. I-I had better leave.

The tension in the room was too much for Kyle. He wanted to go over to Heath, hold him, and cradle him to sleep, let him know that he was loved beyond measure… that no catastrophe would change the way he felt about him. I may not have been there for you these past months, but I’ll be damned if I leave you to handle this on your own. I still love you, Heathcliff Alcott.

Kyle: I’ll come round tomorrow. Please give some thought to what I said.

It was the hardest thing for Kyle to walk out the door, but at least some of his anxiety was calmed by the fact that Tristan had passed out on the couch. Heath waited until hearing the door close before lying on the bed and bringing his body into the fetal position to cry himself to sleep, praying that he didn’t draw the attention of a drunken, sexually aroused Tristan.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, MONDAY

Monday morning came with the promise of a new work week and assuredly one of mourning for the members of the Los Angeles Outrunners. Callum felt rather listless as he rose to shower that morning. Godfrey had brought him breakfast in bed, and Talon had left him a rose on his pillow. They had had a mild argument when Talon had once more pushed the idea of them leaving America. Callum’s original plan still stood as he would steal Talon’s passport when they were away, ditch him, and come back to California to finish his mission. Oh Nathan! And just when things were going so well for us! That was such a magical kiss on the pier two days ago. But then it was nearly threatened by Talon. If you and Talon were to ever meet… banish the thought! Well, at least Talon is going to work today. The Getty should keep him fairly occupied as I handle my affairs with Brendon and Allison.

Talon (popping his head into the room): Wish me good luck on my first day. Are you sure you’ll be fine with me gone all day?

Callum: I don’t need a sitter, Talon.

Talon (coming over): But you do need one of these. (kisses him) I’ll be home this evening. Bye.

As soon as he left, Callum went downstairs, seeing the media camped outside the property. First, the kidnapping and now murder. I’ll soon have the most infamous address in Los Angeles and that can only spell trouble. I should get some sunshine, perhaps relax by the pool. I’ll have Godfrey bring some tea. What the bloody hell! He had come out onto the pool deck just in time to see Justin sneaking onto the property.

Callum (loudly): Planning on stealing more than just my car this time?

Justin (rushing up to him, panting): I can’t talk long. I think Brendon is having me followed.

Callum: Why would he do that? Did you run off with his priceless china?

Justin: Look, Callum, I need some money. I’m leaving town.

Callum: What’s wrong? Daddy Dearest caught you nicking sweets after your bedtime.

Justin: He’s trying to send me away to military camp or some shit like that.

Callum: So that he can make a real man out of you? Then perhaps Nathan will show real interest in you.

Justin: He knows the truth. I’m sure you had something to do with that.

Callum: My nana always said the truth shall set you free.

Justin: Except I’m not free! I just need some help getting out of town.

Callum: I was under the impression that your father wanted you in his life.

Justin: He called the police and told them I wanted to confess to lying about Nathan. That’s when I left. Please help me, Callum!

Callum: You never listened to me. Go back home, Justin. Admit you were wrong.

Justin: Didn’t you fucking hear me? He’s going to send me away!

Callum: I promise you it won’t come to that, especially if you’re “legally emancipated.”

Justin: What the hell does that mean?

Callum: Just trust me on this. Go home, confess, and I’ll handle the rest. Be sure to tell them that Vittoria was also trying to sell you drugs. I have big plans for your father, and by week’s end you won’t have to worry about him… (sotto voce) and neither will I.

STARBUCKS COFFEE, WEST HOLLYWOOD, MONDAY MORNING

Drake took his first sip of iced coffee when he looked up and saw that Bralen had just got his tea at the checkout counter and was looking for a place to sit. Drake loudly beckoned for him to come sit down at his table. The beautiful sunny mornings were just so breathtaking for Drake. He loved Los Angeles but missed Boston, although he was glad to have left the city after that political scandal that nearly tore apart his marriage to Austin.

Bralen (coming over): Drake, how are you this morning?

Drake: Please sit down. I could use some company.

Bralen (sitting down): You sure you want to be seen with me?

Drake: I’m not passing judgment on you. I hardly know you.

Bralen: Well, you’re kinder than most people are to me now. I can’t even go inside my own gym. Look what I got on my doorstep this morning.

He rumbled in his backpack and threw a cardboard box on the tabletop. Drake picked it up, turned it over, and tried his best to suppress a bout of laughter. It was a cereal box that had Bralen’s picture on it with the word CHEATIES superimposed over his image.

Drake: Don’t pay those jerks any mind. They don’t know you. (pause) So what brings you on this side of town? Monday morning traffic from Santa Monica to West Hollywood must be awful.

Bralen (solemnly, his eyes tearing up): I—uh—was on my way to Peyton’s home, but I couldn’t bring myself to go inside.

Drake: Austin and I were so sorry to hear what happened. It’s all so tragic. I take it you two were close.

Bralen: We were best friends and roommates for a few years.

Drake: If there’s anything I can do to help out—

Bralen: Actually, there is. Would you come with me into his place? I just don’t want to go in there alone.

Drake: If you don’t mind my asking, but why are you going there?

Bralen: Peyton and I were sworn porn pals.

Drake (nearly spitting out his coffee): What?

Bralen: Well, he unofficially willed me his porn collection should he go first, and I likewise pledged the same. I know it sounds crazy, but there’s another reason for getting it out his place. His mom is coming into town for the funeral and will be staying there.

Drake (whistling): Whoa!

Bralen: Yes, and she’s the—uh—snooping type. After she’s raided the obvious places where he keeps the alcohol, she goes looking for where he hides the rest.

Drake (laughing): Sounds like she’s fond of the drink? Like mother, like son, right?

Bralen: You haven’t met Priscilla. She’s Peyton to the 10^th degree. So will you come with me?

Drake agreed, and they drove over to Peyton’s home, the place giving off a jarringly isolated feeling once they entered. Drake saw that Peyton kept a very lovely home, the décor very simple but charming. He practiced feng-shui from the placement of the furniture. Bralen led him to Peyton’s bedroom closet, which had a hidden door behind all the clothing. Bralen pushed into it, and they descended down a short flight of stairs that led to the wine cellar. Bralen explained that Peyton had it designed this way for easy access to the alcohol when he got the desire in the middle of the night. When they got downstairs, Bralen pushed open another door in the northwest corner, explaining that it once served as a nice-sized pantry, but as Drake saw, it now housed a gigantic supply of porn to rival a small Internet company. Hundreds of titles were on the rows. Drake’s eyes bulged, his amazement in full display.

Drake: Who the hell alphabetizes and then categorizes their porn by genre?

Bralen: That was Peyton for you. As you can see, he even kept a small stock of lesbian porn (winking) for Allison and her friends. Oh, shit, I didn’t know he had started a collection of foot and armpit fetish porn.

Drake: What do you plan on doing with all this?

Bralen: Ebay! And if that doesn’t work, I’m sure the annual Outrunners holiday garage sale should do the trick (suddenly seeing Drake’s frozen expression). What is it?

Drake: This corner.

Bralen: Oh yeah, Peyton was open-minded. Even though he practiced safe sex, he did have pre-condom titles along with some newer bareback titles. You can close your mouth, Drake. I was shocked, too, when I first saw cocks that big, but I learned how to take them. (turning away) Anyway, let’s get to work putting these in trash bags.

Bralen had been seriously wrong about the reason for Drake’s sudden display of shock. He had definitely seen his fair share of gargantuan cocks. While Peyton’s back was to him, Drake surreptitiously stole one particular title from the bareback section and quickly hid it in his jacket, not once feeling any guilt for the action.

ALLISON AND CHLOE’S HOME, LOS FELIZ, MONDAY MID-AFTERNOON

Allison: Are you sure you want to stay at that house by yourself? There’s plenty room here, Priscilla.

Priscilla: Oh, heavens, no! I want to feel close to my son. Besides, I’m sure he’d want me to stay there and tidy the place.

Allison: How are you holding up?

Priscilla: Leave it to Peyton to decide to die on me when I was bathing with Pierre at the Savoy. I had to catch the next immediate flight out Paris.

Allison: Back up. Pierre? Who’s that?

Priscilla: Oh, he’s my masseur.

Allison: And you were bathing with him?

Priscilla: Oh, Allison, you wouldn’t understand (winking). A girl was feeling very generous with her euros.

Allison: Oh, Priscilla!

Priscilla: He was working very hard for both my gratuity… and my orgasm.

Allison: I see even death can’t dampen your sense of humor. (the doorbell rings, and Allison hops up)

Priscilla: I’ll get it. I’m closer to the door. (opening it)

Nathan: Priscilla, you made it. (hugging her) Is Allison in?

Priscilla (using her free hand to spank Nathan’s bottom and grasp his tight butt): She’s here. Come on in.

Nathan: What a greeting, Priscilla. You haven’t changed a bit.

Priscilla (closing the door): Speaking of changing, have you given any thoughts to converting?

Nathan: I’m fine with my religion.

Priscilla: I was—as usual—referring to your sexuality.

Nathan: Oh, Priscilla!

Priscilla: What can I say? I’m the original MILF and cougar rolled into one. And Nathan, you’re just one hot piece of ass! (winking at him) If I can’t be the one, I sure as hell hope Brendon’s enjoying your assets.

Nathan (putting his hands on her shoulders): How are you holding up?

Priscilla (finally breaking her façade): I’m going to fucking scream if someone asks me that damn question again. How the hell do you think I’m handling it? I just lost my only child. (tears flowing down her face as she falls into the nearest chair)

Allison and Nathan (rushing to her): Are you fine?

Priscilla (being given a handkerchief by Nathan): I’ll be fine. You know it’s just not fair! I’m supposed to go first. That’s how it should be. (balling her fists) I just want my precious baby boy back!

Allison prayed that Chloe, sleeping upstairs, wouldn’t hear Priscilla’s crying, and especially the exclamation she had just made.

Allison: I’ll get you some tea, Priscilla.

Priscilla: To hell with tea! Get me some scotch on the rocks. On second thought, damn the rocks! Give it to me straight up. (noticing Allison’s hesitance) And don’t give me any of that bull about there not being any alcohol in this house. You’re a lesbian for God’s sake!

Nathan (taking her hand as Allison leaves the room): Just let me know if there’s anything I can do.

Priscilla: Your mother’s so lucky to still have you in her life. I’m sure you were a good son.

Nathan: I’m sure she’d beg to differ. I was a handful as a kid.

Priscilla (weeping): So was my little Peyton. Sometimes I called him “little Satan.” I swear I spanked him several times a day. (noticing the look of astonishment on Nathan’s face) I keep forgetting that your generation believes in all that “time out” bullshit. No, not I! The Scriptures say “spare the rod, spoil the child.” (pause) Little did I know my baby would actually grow up to like the rod in more ways than one.

Nathan (laughing): I’m sure you were a great mother.

Priscilla: And you were a great son. Of course, had you been mine, I would have been arrested for incest. (looking up to see Nathan laugh as Allison returns) Oh, there, you are with my drink. What took you so long? You’re supposed to be a runner.

Nathan: Well, I’m going to leave now. I just wanted to touch base with Allison, but we can do that another time. (to Priscilla) Like I said, if you need anything—besides sex—don’t hesitate to call me.

Priscilla (as soon as the door closes): Too bad his mother didn’t send him to one of those religious “de-gaying” camps. Lord knows I could have been his Mrs. Robinson.

WEST LOS ANGELES CHURCH, MONDAY AFTERNOON

Brendon felt extremely conflicted, and while he was relieved to be back in Nathan’s life, he knew it was at Justin’s expense. Something had to be done about the boy. He consulted Kyle, who suggested military camp as a safe option as he needed a good dose of discipline, and sending him off to boarding school would most likely result in an endless stream of expulsions. It was during his talk to Kyle that he inquired about Peyton’s death only to learn he had been murdered by Vittoria Morelli, who herself had fallen to her death down the stairs at Callum’s home.

Rob Dougan’s “Furious Angels” begins playing softly in the background of this scene as Brendon nearly dropped the phone upon learning this. That’s why she hasn’t returned any of my calls. Oh my God! She killed an innocent person, and I gave her the means to take his life. But how did Peyton become the victim? It was supposed to be Callum! The remainder of the morning he tried to force himself to live as normally as possible, but Justin temporarily ran away when he called the police for him to make his confession to clear Nathan’s name. Fortunately, his absence had been less than two hours, and he came back mysteriously cooperative and telling the officer the whole sordid truth. It as toward midday that he left the house to go the church to clear his mind. He went to the prayer chapel, where he hoped to achieve peace of mind and unburden himself of the guilt that had been increasingly weighing on his conscience.

The chapel was empty, the little room dimly lit by the altar of candles. Brendon hoped to be swallowed by the quiet, desiring to be cleansed of his part in the tragedy that had shaken him to his core. He lit a candle for Peyton and knelt down before the altar, the silence soon punctuated by his weeping. He had never wanted it to end this way. A spasm of pain shot through his head. Damn migraines! They had not ceased and were a constant reminder of his own attack in the park by the woman who had taken Peyton’s life. This circle of violence must end, and it must start with me. I promise, you, God, that I will do everything within my power to set things right even though I can’t bring either of them back.

He rose from his knelt position, turned to leave when he was startled by Callum’s presence as if he were a specter suddenly appearing.

Brendon: C-Callum, what are you doing here?

Callum: I came to make a generous donation to this church. My son was returned to me on the steps outside, and I wanted to come here as I was thinking about Peyton, who loved my son.

Brendon (eerily taken aback by the civility Callum’s showing him): I lit a candle for him. He’s been on my mind a lot today.

Callum: As he should be since you’re the reason he’s dead, you bastard!

Brendon didn’t see the punch coming but certainly felt its impact as Callum’s fist sent his body backwards and crashing into the altar. The fabric of his shirt caught on fire, the flame greedily glowing brighter with Brendon’s shouts. He threw himself to the floor and rolled over to extinguish it, all the time Callum stood silently watching the spectacle, saddened when Brendon rose from the floor, physically unscarred by the action but emotionally shaken.

Brendon: What’s got into you?

Callum: That was just a taste of the real hell you’ll soon be experiencing, you bastard!

Brendon: We’re in a church for heaven’s sake!

Callum (nonchalantly): Did I not tell you I’m an atheist when it suits me?

Brendon: I understand you’re grieving, but this isn’t—

Callum: Cut the act, Brendon. I know you sent that whore to kill me. You even supplied her with the gun and bullets, and now Peyton is dead all because of you. (tears bursting from his eyes)

Brendon: Don’t you think I know that! (sitting down in a pew) I have been asking God for forgiveness this entire time. I-I never—(emotionally choking on his words and falling to the floor)

Callum: I hope He doesn’t grant you forgiveness because you’re going straight to hell if I have anything to do with it. As God is my witness, I will make you suffer for this. By the time I’m done, you will lose everything—Nathan, Justin—

Brendon (aggressively rising): You stay away from them! (wiping away his tears) This is between you and me. Leave them out of this. I never meant for this to happen.

Callum: What? For Peyton to die? Or for me to still be alive?

Brendon: Peyton didn’t deserve this. He was the most—

Callum: Blah! Blah! Blah! Save it for the eulogy. I would consider it ironic for you to be at his funeral since you’re the reason he’s dead. But I’ll grant you that moment of solace to pay your respects.

Brendon: Pardon?

Callum: You heard me. I’m basically offering you a truce until after the funeral at which point you should have finished writing your own obituary.

Brendon: How dare you!

Callum: Once his body is laid to rest, I will make you pay for this… you, Allison, and anyone else who has done me wrong. Not you, not LAPD, and not even God will keep me from seeing you all suffer so much that you’ll be dying to join Peyton. (pause) And yes, the pun was intended.

He turned and left the chapel as silently as he had come. A cold breeze blew into the room, putting out the candles and efficiently putting the room into blackness. It was at that moment that Brendon realized it was not the effect of the total occlusion of light but the real darkness of Callum’s prophecy descending upon him.

TO BE CONTINUED…