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…