A Captivating Coupling

Chapter Eleven: The Outside World

 

Someone tried to tell me something
Don't let the world bring you down
Nothing will do me in before I do myself
So save it for your own and the ones you can help
Want to make it understood
Wanting though I never would
Trying though I know it's wrong
Blowing it to hell and gone
Wishing though I never could
Blow up the outside world - Chris Cornell


Friday, February 6, 1998

Jennifer Taylor had just gotten home from her Lamaze class. She’d tried calling her husband’s cell phone when he hadn’t shown up at the hospital to meet for the class. Jennifer figured that Craig ended up having some kind of business emergency and that was why he didn’t make it and didn’t answer his phone. She had called her sister to come and fill in as her coach and had been glad to have someone by her side. It had been a long time since her last pregnancy and this one was so much different from her first. Jennifer was due in just a couple of weeks and couldn’t have been more excited to have another child.

Another child. Tears fell down her face as she thought of her first child and pulled into the long driveway of her home. Seeing Craig’s SUV parked in the driveway. Jennifer got out of the car, walked inside the dark house and yelled for Craig, but received no answer. In a huff she decided to go upstairs, pretty sure that she would find him asleep in their bed.

Slowly, she made her way, holding tightly to the wood banister. She hated treading up and down these stairs; her back was aching and her feet were killing her by the time she made it up them. She opened her mouth to holler for her husband one more time when she stopped in her tracks and placed one hand on her stomach and the other on the wall for balance.

At the end of the hall she could see a light on in the room to the left. She regrouped herself and cautiously stepped forward until she was standing just outside the doorway. “Craig?” she called her husband’s name.

Craig was curled up on the twin sized race car bed, clutching the blue comforter to his chest and his face buried into a baseball printed pillow.

Her body shook when Craig didn’t respond to her. She cautiously walked over to the bed and touched his shoulder. “Craig,” she spoke again, a hitch to her voice.

Craig jerked and his eyes opened. “Justin?” he asked, before his vision cleared and he saw his very pregnant wife bending over him.

Jennifer’s tears burned the back of her eyes. “You didn’t meet me for the Lamaze class,” she told him, ignoring the name that came from his lips.

Craig sat up, his hands still clinging to the blanket; he swung his legs around the side of the bed and shook his head. “I can’t do this,” he told his wife.

Jennifer slowly got down to her knees and reached out to touch her husband’s face. She titled it up and made him look at her. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Craig took Jennifer’s hands and held them against his chest. “I can’t be a father to the baby,” he told her, looking her right in her bright blue eyes.

Jennifer could feel her heart breaking. “What do you mean, Craig? You are the baby’s father already.”

Craig let go of the blanket and Jennifer’s hands before getting up and walking over to the dresser where many framed pictures sat on the top of it. He picked up a red frame and traced the lines of the little boy’s smiling face in the photo it held. “I’m his father.”

Jennifer sat on the bed, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Craig, you’re scaring me!”

Craig glared at his wife. “You want to replace him!” he spat, setting the photograph down to join the others. “You’ve always wanted to replace him!”

Jennifer flinched. “I don’t, Craig! I don’t! I just want another baby.”

“To make you forget about him!” Craig replied, tears cascading down his face.

Jennifer protested, “That’s not what I want! I just want to make new memories. I want to be a mother again.”

“I thought you already were one!” Craig yelled and started pacing back and forth before his wife. “I thought you were a mother.”

Jennifer couldn’t believe they were having this conversation when she was nearly ready to give birth. “I…I….am, Craig. But Justin is gone!”

Craig stopped pacing for a moment and glared at her. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know that he’s gone?”

“No, Craig,” Jennifer spoke, defeated.

“What?” Craig wasn’t sure he heard her right.

Jennifer took a deep breath and looked her husband right in his glassy blue eyes. “You come in here every single day and talk to him like he’s here!”

Craig’s tears fell freely as he asked in desperation, “Would you rather me forget about him?”

“No, Craig, of course not… I just want you to be happy again. I want to be happy again,” Jennifer cried.

“By replacing Justin?” Craig asked. “Is that how we’ll be happy?”

“No…no… that’s not what this baby is,” Jennifer insisted, rubbing her belly.

“I can’t… I won’t forget about him, Jen. I won’t be happy with another baby! I won’t be happy until Justin is home!” Craig told her.

“You won’t be happy because you won’t let yourself be!” Jennifer said standing up and walking toward her husband. “I miss him just as much as you, Craig. I gave birth to him. But I also know that Justin wouldn’t want us to shut down, to not live!”

Craig stared at his wife with wide eyes; he couldn’t understand why Jennifer just didn’t get it. “Justin was my life,” he told her. “I’ve been dead since the day he was taken.” He turned away from Jennifer and started to walk out of the room.

“Craig! Please, don’t do this.” Jennifer said, running after him. “I thought I was your life too?”

Craig turned back to Jennifer. “I’ll be sleeping in the guest room,” he whispered, tears still streaming down his cheeks. He looked at his beautiful wife who was now crying into her hands, her entire body shaking with sobs. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was. But he couldn’t. He was certain that it was something he had done to cause Justin to be abducted. He felt that to his core and he couldn’t allow anything to happen to the new child. He had waited to long already, he had to cut them both off from him now.

Jennifer tore her hands away from her face and watched as Craig left the room. She couldn’t believe that the pain was what Craig really wanted! She didn’t understand how he could love their son so much and not want anything to do with the child inside of her. When she’d told Craig she was pregnant, he was shocked but seemed happy and embraced the thought of them having a baby. Even if she was getting older and the pregnancy was unplanned, things seemed to be going great concerning the baby.

That was until about six months ago when she noticed Craig stopped rubbing her belly and talking to their unborn child. She thought it was just her nerves but she could feel something shift in Craig, could feel like he was waiting for something. As Jennifer recalled that timing she realized exactly what had halted Craig’s interest in their unborn child. She had been so enraptured with the life inside of her that she had forgotten the day her world had stopped six, now six and a half years ago. She hadn’t acknowledged the day and that had been the beginning of Craig pulling away from her and their baby. She had no one to blame but herself. She wondered if Craig was right. If she was trying to replace her little boy?

Too tired to get up from the bed, Jennifer kicked off her trainers and snuggled into the soft linens on her son’s bed. She brought the worn stuffed Teddy Bear to her chest and held it as she cried for her child.

 

***
 

It was August 4, 1991 and a typical Sunday morning at the Taylor residence. Jennifer was up with the sun, ready to see what the day’s activities were. She grabbed her soft terry-cloth robe and slipped on the pink fuzzy slippers her son had gotten for her as a mother’s day gift. Opening the door to her and Craig’s bedroom she turned back and looked at her husband who was still snoring and sleeping soundly.

Jennifer stepped into the hall that was lit with the tiniest bit of light coming in from the large patio door that led to the outside at the end of it. She looked to the left and saw that her son’s door was still closed; she listened for a minute to hear if he was awake, but laughed to herself. Justin was a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t wake on a Sunday until Jennifer woke him. So Jennifer went downstairs and into her office, intending on seeing what the daily agenda was. The office was on the east side of the house, so the two French doors that opened up onto the deck were letting in the brightest of morning sunshine. She went over to the windows and gazed out for a while, admiring the late summer morning. It was a little cooler than normal this time of year and dew sparkled on the grass in the early light. She saw that there were a few new roses blooming in the garden and really wanted to go see them and maybe cut a few to put in a vase in the kitchen so she could gaze at them while she cooked breakfast.

First, she grabbed some scissors out of the desk drawer, tightened her robe a little more even though the back yard was fenced in and the closest neighbors were a ½ mile away, Jennifer was still a modest woman. Still being a little tired, Jennifer didn’t think anything of just unlocking the door and going out. Usually, after checking the day’s agenda, she went to the front of the house and turned off the house alarm. But not that day.

Her pink fuzzy slippers navigated the stone steps throughout the garden. She glided through the green paradise, taking in all the smells. Crossing to where the rose bushes grew she let the mint plants assault her senses before going to the sweeter sent of fresh roses. She cut five. Two beautiful pink ones and three red ones. She planned on placing each red one beside their breakfast plates; maybe write a small note to remind them how much she loved her boys, before they started their fun days.

When she went back inside she went and looked at the agenda book on her desk and flipped it open to the day’s date. Craig was playing golf with the men from the Country Club at noon. She would be going to the club as well, but with Justin for their first week of Japanese lessons. She laughed when she thought of how smart her son was. She was sure that Justin would pick it up much quicker than she would. He was, without a doubt, a genius.

Glancing back down at the book she saw that tonight was the party to welcome the newest club member into the fold. The whole family would attend the gala that night. Craig hadn’t seemed very inclined to go. He told Jennifer it was because he didn’t think that the man’s profession was very fruitful, whatever that meant. Jennifer was excited to meet the talented writer whose editor lived in a modest home just down the road and had recently worked with her to organize the Club’s Charity Cancer Walk. The woman, Cynthia, had told Jennifer that the only reason the man had joined the club was because he enjoyed golfing and their club had the best golf course in town.

It surprised Jennifer that their day wasn’t going to be any busier. Usually she was running errands because they always needed something. It was nice that she’d get to spend a lot of time with Justin that day.

Jennifer went into the kitchen and made a large breakfast. While she was cooking the bacon Craig came down, still in his pajama pants, and looking well rested. His chest was still just as sculpted as it had been when she’d met him and when he reached up to stretch with his muscular arms, the pace of Jennifer’s heart quickened. “Good morning, honey,” she said turning off the heat for the bacon and moving it onto some paper towels to degrease it with her spatula.

Craig gave a small yawn and walked behind his wife. His hands reached to her waist and he dipped his head to nuzzle at her silky blonde hair. “Mmm,” he said, breathing deep. “Something smells good.” His hands tightened on her waist and brought Jennifer around to face him.

Jennifer giggled and kissed Craig’s nose. “It could be the bacon, or the blue berry pancakes.”

Craig smirked and then looked thoughtful. “It could be.” He released her for just a moment before pulling her up against his body, letting her feel his want. “But I’m pretty sure it’s you!”

Jennifer giggled and then let out a small moan. In just seconds she turned to jelly in her husband’s hands. “Craig, Craig, the breakfast,” she protested stepping out of his grasp and going back to the plate of bacon before setting it on the table.

Craig smiled. “Oh, come on, I don’t mind if it gets cold,” he told her, standing behind her as she organized the roses on the table.

“Craig, Justin could be down here any minute,” she reminded him turning around. “After breakfast I’m sure we can manage some time alone.”

Craig grinned and went to go sit at the head of the table. He picked up his rose and smelled it. “The rose is beautiful, Jen. Thank you. And the breakfast looks great!”

“Hey, don’t touch yet,” Jennifer chastised her husband who was reaching to serve himself from the plates of food. “Let me just get the eggs on the table and I’ll go upstairs and wake Justin up. I’m surprised he didn’t wake up when he smelled the bacon cooking.”

Jennifer went back over to the counter to get the egg plate when she suddenly felt like her skin was crawling. She pushed the thoughts away and started to walk toward the breakfast table.

Craig gave Jennifer a thoughtful expression. “Oh, I think he might be on the west patio. I saw the door was opened a little. He’s probably out there playing with that talking dictionary thing.”

Jennifer stopped in her tracks, the pan of eggs shaking in her hands.

“Did you get the paper from the porch this morning?” Craig asked looking up.

Jennifer gulped. “No, I…” It was then that she realized she hadn’t turned the house alarm off. If she had, she would have picked up the paper from the front porch, like she did on most mornings.

“Jen?” Craig asked looking worriedly at his wife who’d just gone as pale as a ghost.

Jennifer knew that she was the last one in bed last night. She knew that she rechecked the alarm, and it was set. She’d set it herself a few hours before that. Her hands started to shake and she dropped the plate of eggs before sprinting from the room. She could barely acknowledge her husband calling after her.

“Justin!” She yelled, turning away from the empty patio and back into the hallway. She didn’t know Craig was behind her until she turned and smacked into him.

Craig raced into Justin’s room, calling for him. The two seconds it took to open the door to his son’s room he hoped to God that they are just over-reacting. He turned the handle and slammed the door open. It clanged against the wall beside it, the loudest sound in the world. The loudest, scariest, most terrifying moment of his life came a split-second later when he saw that the only occupant of the racecar bed was Gus, his son’s teddy bear. The one he took every single place he went. Even school. He hid him in his backpack. He would never leave him.

“Craig!” Jennifer screamed, standing in front of him.

Craig didn’t know when she got past him to enter the room. As he looked frantically looked around he realized that at some point he’d grabbed Gus Bear and now held him against his chest. “He’s… he’s got to be somewhere,” he told Jennifer, bolting out of his son’s room.

He and Jennifer screamed their son’s name, begging him to answer them. They confessed how terrified they both were, hoping that if he was hiding, he would come out. They swore to him that he wouldn’t be in any trouble for scaring them if he’d come out, but Justin never did. They desperately looked in every closet, under each bed and around every corner. Their screams echoed from one end of the house to the next until they met at the bottom of the staircase, breathing heavily with freight and exhaustion.

“Go look out back,” Craig ordered his wife in a hoarse voice. “I’ll go look in the garage and check the side yard, sometimes he likes to play behind the shed.”

“Okay,” Jennifer agreed and ran outside. She looked first in Justin’s tree house, thinking that maybe Justin went up there in the middle of the night and was possibly still sleeping. When she didn’t find him there, she ran into the pool house, her heart aching as she searched inside the pool first. She did not see him there and the knowledge sent a tiny bit of relief through her but not much. Jennifer looked in every room in the pool house but didn’t find her son.

Craig searched the garage, looking in the attic above, then inside Jennifer’s minivan and his car. Not finding his son in either, Craig ran out the side door of the garage and looked around the yard before heading toward the tool shed near the gate. A couple of feet from it, his eyes picked up on an item that sent even more fear through his body as he jogged toward it. On the side of the tool shed were two boxes, one the outside breaker box for their home and the other was the alarm system. That box had been smashed to pieces.

As Craig got closer he saw a white piece of paper taped with duct tape onto the grey wood. His fingers shook as he grabbed it and tried to focus his eyes on the words written.

“Craig! Craig! He’s not out back! I checked the pool house and his tree hou…” Jennifer stopped talking as she reached Craig and saw what was in his hands.

Craig’s eyes welled with tears, his skin paled and his insides seem to be spontaneously combust with pain.

Jennifer couldn’t believe what she was reading, “No…” she gasped, falling to the ground, clutching the note.
 

Mr. & Mrs. Taylor.

We have your son.

You will NEVER see him again.

I can promise you that he will be safe. We will not harm him in any way.
 

***

There had not been any evidence left behind by the kidnappers. The only fingerprints found belonged to the Taylors or other trusted persons they welcomed into their home. There was no one that Craig or Jennifer could name that would want to take their child. The police had nothing except the letter to go on and that was a dead end.

Over the years Craig and Jennifer released more photos of their son, paying to have his image updated to also show how he might have changed over the years. They hired private investigators, hired people to hang MISSING posters of Justin in other states. Every month, Craig would stock his car with boxes of posters and duct tape and embark on a journey through Pittsburgh and the surrounding cities to hang up new posters of Justin.

Many people had told Craig and Jennifer that though the kidnappers had promised Justin safety, it was possible that he had been killed and would never be found. The police chief who worked on the case told them this when he’d pulled all of his officers off the case a year after the crime. Many of their family members thought the same thing but neither Jennifer nor Craig ever thought that to be the truth. They both believed that they would somehow know if their child had been taken from the earth or not.

Craig and Jennifer were hopeful and assured that one day they would find their son. They would never give up searching for him, no matter how long he was gone.

After his fight with Jennifer, Craig chose that night to go hang posters. When he felt so completely lost, this was something he could do which made him feel connected to Justin. Tonight, Craig was taping a poster on a poll where the previous poster of Justin had been torn down and replaced by an ad for a local band. He was in the area where many of the college bars and coffee shops were. It was bitterly cold outside and he struggled with his nearly frozen fingers to tape the poster on the telephone poll. When he finished, Craig’s eyes fell on the bar across the street.

It had been years since he’d been inside Lockwood’s. The bar was still one of the quieter and less-frequented bars in the area. All of the cheap CMU décor looked exactly as he remembered it.

“Would you like to see a menu?” a waitress asked, standing beside the booth.

Craig shook his head. “No, just a beer.”

The young waitress looked at him with confusion. “Ah…what kind?”

It had been years since Craig had a sip of alcohol but he knew what he wanted. “Heineken,” he replied. “And can I have an order of potato fries too?”

“Sure,” the girl batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. “What kind of sauce would you like to dip them in?”

Craig ignored the girl’s flirtation. “Just ketchup.”

“Okay. Anything else I can get for you?”

Craig shook his head no and sighed in relief when the girl walked away. His eyes scanned around the bar. It was still early, but for a Friday night Lockwood’s was dead. Craig watched a man sitting at a table nearby exited the bar, placing a newspaper on a huge stack of old ones in a container near the door.

Craig rarely read newspapers any more. He’d been the subject of so many interviews and also suspicions that he could hardly handle looking in the papers during the initial search for Justin. Craig followed every bit of news that involved a missing child or abduction until he was as sure as he could be that it had nothing to do with Justin’s kidnapping. He drove himself crazy for the first three years and occupied every waking moment of his life. He never attended the country club again and soon lost all of his friends.

When the shareholders in his company informed Craig that he’d be voted out as C.E.O. if he didn’t start showing interest in the company again, Craig had to force himself to stop with the obsession. However, today he felt something pulling him toward the stack of newspapers, the same feeling that had urged him to cross the street and go into the bar.

As Craig sat back down with a stack of the newspapers, the waitress came to his table with his beer and potato fries. “You looking for something specific in those newspapers?” she asked, taking Craig’s money.

“No,” Craig replied. The moment the waitress left he felt an urgent need to sort through the stack of papers as quickly as possible. Chills crawled up his spine the more papers he discarded as unimportant. Though he’d said ‘no’, he definitely felt as if he was searching for something specific, something extremely important.

The second to the last paper was almost a month old and as his fingers touched it, his heartbeat sped up and he had to force himself to focus on the headline.
 

Brian Kinney, Acclaimed Pittsburgh Writer
1 Year Since His Mysterious Kidnapping
Whereabouts Are Still Unknown
 

Today marks one year since Brian Kinney was kidnapped while walking to his car in a parking garage. To this date there has been no form of communication from his abductors or any requests for a ransom. A letter was found on his office desk the morning after his disappearance addressed to his editor and friend, Cynthia Prescott. This is still the only solid information detectives have had regarding Brian Kinney’s abduction.

A couple of days ago an unnamed source at the Pittsburgh Police Department leaked us a copy of the note.
 

Ms. Prescott.

We have your client.

You will NEVER see him again.

I can promise you that he will be safe. We will not harm him in any way.
 

Craig had to force himself to swallow the sip of beer in his mouth. The notes were practically identical and he knew who Brian Kinney was. He hadn’t heard the man’s name in years and had no idea about his kidnapping. He was sure that if Jennifer had heard about it, or read the same paper it would’ve triggered the same eerie likeness that it did for him. He wondered how the police department could miss the similarities!

Craig felt needles crawling up his spine and looked up from the paper to see a man sitting in a booth on the other side of the bar, openly staring at him. Once the man noticed he’d been caught staring, he looked away from Craig and hastily exited the bar. Craig felt a sense of déjà vu encompass him. He was sure that he knew the man that had been staring at him and it seemed like the man knew him, but he couldn’t place him. He wrote the weird occurrence off, concluding that maybe the man used to work at the bar when he frequented it and must have recognized him.

Craig had more important things to think about. He looked back down at the paper and the picture of Brian Kinney. He was positive that the same people that took his son also had taken Brian. Though Craig had no idea why they were both taken, knowing that Brian Kinney was with his son gave him hope, though the reason for this he could not pin down. For the first time since he found the note the kidnappers had left him, he felt like his little boy just might be safe.

 

***
 

Saturday, February 7, 1998

“Hello?” Craig answered his office phone frantically.

“Mr. Taylor, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get back to you last night. I had to attend a funeral yesterday,” Cynthia explained. Cynthia could only imagine how devastated Brian would be when he learned that his Uncle Vic had died.

One year to the date of Brian’s kidnapping Vic had a stroke. Everyone in Brian’s family believed that it was the stress from Brian’s kidnapping that put him over the edge when he was already sick. Vic remained in a coma until last Sunday when even life support was unable to keep his heart beating.

Without any leads the family had hit a brick wall concerning his whereabouts. Cynthia was pretty sure that Brian truly didn’t know how much he was cared for and missed. She didn’t want this man to think that she’d purposely blown off the frantic voice mail he’d left her.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Prescott.” Craig said sincerely. “I apologize for any rambling I did on your machine but I need to speak to you rather urgently.”

Cynthia could hear fear in the man’s voice. “Yes, you said that you think you may have information regarding Brian’s abduction. You think it may be linked to your son’s?”

“Yes. I don’t know exactly where they are but I have reason to believe that he was taken by the same people who took my son. That he is possibly with my son.”

“You haven’t gone to the police with this?” Cynthia asked, confused. Though she herself had not yet informed anyone in Brian’s family about the message she received and had immediately called Craig Taylor back.

“They were of little help with my son’s case. The lead detective seemed almost eager to disregard any leads I could find and after only a year he moved the Justin’s abduction to a cold case file and took all personal off of it. I believe he’s now the Chief of Police. I wanted to discuss my findings with you, see if you knew anything concrete that could help me before I brought the information to the police,” Craig explained.

“We have a new Chief of Police now, Carl Horvath. Is that the man you’re referring to?” Cynthia asked with disbelief.

“No, the man I was referring to is Jim Stockwell,” Craig replied.

“He was indicted on fraud and conspiracy charges last March,” Cynthia informed the man. “Chief Horvath is a personal friend and an extended member of Brian’s family. I’m sure that he would reopen your son’s case. What makes you think that his and Brian’s kidnappings are connected?”

“Mr. & Mrs. Taylor. We have your son. You will NEVER see him again. I can promise you that he will be safe. We will not harm him in any way,” Craig recited the letter he knew so well. “Does that sound familiar to you Ms. Prescott?”

Tears sprang into Cynthia’s eyes as she recalled Brian’s note.’ “Yes, that’s practically identical to the note I was left about Brian!”

“That note was leaked to the press. I found it in an old paper about a month ago,” Craig informed.

“I didn’t see it,” Cynthia said. “I haven’t had much time to read the newspaper.”

“I hardly ever read them,” Craig told her. “I found this one at a bar last night.”

“There has to be a connection,” Cynthia said firmly. “When was your son abducted?”

“Six and a half years ago, Ms. Prescott,” Craig said in a choked voice. “We’ve never gotten a single lead and something tells me that they are together.”

“But why would you think they are together?” Cynthia asked. “It could just be a coincidence, or maybe even a copy cat?”

“I don’t think so,” Craig whispered gravely. “You see, I know Brian and I think I might know someone that would want to kidnap him and my son for revenge.”

“What do you mean?” Cynthia gasped.

“There was a bet made while I attending classes during the same time that Brian was in University.”

“A bet?” Cynthia asked not understanding why anyone would be kidnapped because of a college bet.

“The bet was to see if Brian could fuck anyone. Even a straight guy… from what I understand.” Craig let a few tears run down his face as he confessed the next four words, “That man was me.”

“Brian would never do something so terrible to anyone,” Cynthia protested. “You’ve got to be mistaken.”

“I’m not mistaken,” Craig told her. “I wish I was. The reason why someone might want the revenge is because they may have found out that Brian told me about the bet. He wasn’t supposed to.”

“I can’t believe this!” Cynthia groaned. “I can’t…”

“We agreed that I would fuck him and then, we would split the money he obtained by winning the bet,” Craig continued to explain.

“But what does this have to do with his kidnapping? I don’t understand!” Cynthia cried.

“I am sure that the man he made the bet with must have found out the truth. Brian told me that the guy was in love with him but he was also very jealous of him.”

“So you think that he kidnapped them, to get back at the both of you.”

“Yes, I…I think so.” Craig admitted.

“Who were these guys?” Cynthia asked.

“I don’t know their names. The check Brian gave me for my part of the money was made from his bank account, so I couldn’t trace it back to the other guy. But yesterday, the same place I read the newspaper, it was at a bar near the campus. It was the same bar that I used to go to study during the day. It was the same place I first met Brian and his roommates. And though I didn’t realize it at the time, I think that one of the guy’s that was in on the bet was there last night. He was watching me but left when he saw that I noticed him.”

“So you didn’t talk to him?” Cynthia asked.

“No, it didn’t all click together until he was already gone. All night I tried to look for the name of Brian’s roommates but they weren’t in the Alumni files so they must not have graduated,” Craig told her.

Cynthia tried to think if Brian had ever told her his roommates names but couldn’t pin-point any time that he had. “Why don’t you meet me at Brian’s apartment and we can go through his storage closet and file cabinets. Maybe we can find some pictures and you can point him out to me and we can get a name. He’s pretty organized so he might even have some old bank statements.”

“Just give me an address and I’ll meet you there in an hour,” Craig said. He quickly took the address and Cynthia’s cell phone number down and hung up the phone.

“Craig?” Jennifer stood above Craig, tears rolling down her face. “What have you done?” she screamed.

Craig knew that he would have to tell his wife the truth at some point, but he hadn’t planned on her over-hearing the explanation he’d given Cynthia that had been the short, emotionless version. He looked her right in the eyes and replied, “I ruined my little boy’s life, Jen.” He stood up from his desk, grabbed his coat from the back his chair, and the piece of paper where he’d wrote Brian Kinney’s address. “Now, I’m going to go and try to fix it.”

“Okay,” Jennifer whimpered and sat down at Craig’s desk as he rushed from the room. Her eyes scanned the surface of the desk in confusion looking for evidence of what Craig had talked about. Her heart stopped as she pulled the old newspaper toward her. The picture of Brian Kinney was familiar. And a little hope gleamed within her heart too.

But for a different reason.

The day before Justin had been kidnapped, her car had gotten a flat tire and Brian Kinney had graciously stopped and put her spare tire on for her. Justin had an obvious crush on the man and the young man had been so polite to her child. He let Justin sit in his air-conditioned car because of the noon-time heat caused Justin’s skin to redden after only minutes in the sun.

Justin had told her that Brian was their ‘Knight in Shining Armor’. When Jennifer had tucked Justin into bed that night Justin insisted on recalling the ‘big’ events of the day. As she kissed him goodnight Justin had said, “I’m going to marry that man, Mr. Kinney, Mommy.”

“Don’t you think he’s a little too old for you. darling?” she’d asked him gently.

“Not, now!” Justin laughed at her. “When I’m older, Mommy. He’ll be older too and we’ll fall in love and have a family.”

“Okay, my Justin,” Jennifer said sarcastically and kissed her son on the cheek and handed him his Gus bear.

“I am, Mommy,” Justin insisted tiredly. “I’m going to marry Brian some day.”

Jennifer had rolled her eyes at her son’s assumption. She’d thought of that conversation many times over the years because it had been the last time she talked to him. Never before had she actually thought that conversation would mean anything more to her than it being Justin’s silly over-active imagination. She wondered just what exactly Brian Kinney and her husband had done that had taken her child away from her! What she’d heard Craig talk about was only one-sided and she couldn’t piece it all together.

She was so tired and the baby inside of her made her feel like she could barely move. She wanted to run after Craig and insist that he tell her the details, insist that she go with him, but as she tried to get up from the chair, her water broke.
 

XXXXX

Moments in Captivity

Chapter 11: Strong Enough

 

Saturday, February 7, 1998

The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next. ~ M. McLaughlin

“Jus...d…d..did ya ask’em?” Brian mumbled out through his chattering lips.

Justin kneeled on the bed next to Brian, holding one of Brian’s clammy shaking ones with one hand while the other patted a cool washcloth on Brian’s forehead. “I did, Brian. Remember, you saw me make the list and I put it in the entryway. I’ve been checking every twenty minutes to see if they’ve come.”

“I…I…I’m sorry,” Brian groaned closing his eyes. “I f…forgot.”

“Oh, Brian,” Justin squeezed Brian’s hand and kissed the tears that escaped down his flaming hot cheeks. “You don’t have to apologize,” he mumbled against Brian’s jaw.

Brian opened his eyes, the glassy cloud covering them so thick Justin could barely see the color underneath it. Brian blinked repeatedly, trying to look at Justin through his spinning, blurred vision. Nausea claimed him and he began to dry heave and doubled over.

“Shh,” Justin consoled his lover. He held a waste can under Brian’s mouth even though the man wasn’t able to get anything up. Brian had only been able to stomach drinking a few sips of water all day. He rubbed Brian’s back through his sweat soaked shirt. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He whispered as Brian’s back arched and fell under his hand in violent spasms.

Brian moaned and jerked his body back slamming down onto the pillows and closing his crying eyes. He felt like such an invalid having to have Justin tend to him. There was no other choice. Chills were racking his body, rendering most of his voluntary muscles useless. He couldn’t even move his eyelids at this point; they felt sticky, heavy and they burned. “Jus…Justin?” Brian forced the name out through his numb lips and tongue.

Justin fought to stay strong and not cry. “I’m here, Brian. I’m right here.”

“S’t…tied.” Brian whispered. “C…c…c...cold.”

“It’s going to be okay, Brian,” Justin said, though he really wasn’t sure it would. He pressed the back of his hand to Brian’s forehead. There was no doubt about it; Brian was burning up and his body was trying to cool itself down. Justin didn’t know what to do to help him.

Justin watched as Brian’s breathing evened out and Brian fell asleep. He stayed there holding the man’s clammy hand for a few minutes and looked over every inch he could see of his body, trying to find some kind of answer that would help him make Brian better. He had tried everything and felt desperate for an answer because nothing had worked. The medicine cabinet was stocked with all of the things they both thought they would need for Brian to get over the food poisoning, but Brian wasn’t getting any better.

Brian was so sick he could hardly move to get out of bed; he was dizzy and sometimes delirious because of his spiking temperatures. He had kept some crackers and chicken soup down for the first few days, but after that, he could stomach nothing but little bits of water at a time.

Brian had protested yesterday when Justin insisted that he pee into a bottle after failing to get himself out of the bed when he tried. There wasn’t any other way because Justin didn’t have the strength to get him to the bathroom. Everything went downhill after that. Justin gave him cool sponge baths when his fever reached its peak but it never really broke. He’d tried different medicines but nothing worked, and Brian couldn’t even keep pills down long enough for them to do any good. He’d asked Brian time and time again if he wanted him to ask ‘God’ to take him to the doctor but Brian had asked him to promise not to do that, no matter what.

Justin ran a warm washcloth over Brian’s eyes, trying to get rid of the mucus that had clogged up there, matting his long dark eyelashes. That had started this morning. It really cemented into Justin’s mind that Brian was getting worse. He didn’t want to think it, but he was so very afraid the man was not going to get better at all.

Justin’s stomach rumbled from hunger. He looked at the clock, realizing that he hadn’t eaten in hours and needed to leave Brian for a few minutes to take care of the baby and himself. After getting what he could out of Brian’s eyes, he leaned in and kissed Brian’s shaky lips, grateful for the steady breath that breathed out against his own. “I’ve got to go feed Be,” he told his lover, even though Brian was finally sleeping peacefully.

Justin heard the noises of the entryway door open and close and raced into the living room. He opened the door and dragged the plastic container inside the living room. Right on top was the hair cutting kit Brian had ordered, he placed that beside him and looked through the bin to see if there were any medicines that might help Brian, but he found nothing.

Justin screamed in frustration and began to sob as he fell to his side; he closed his eyes and silently prayed that he would find a way to help Brian. Suddenly he felt a rush of movement inside of him. His baby was moving around more than he’d ever felt before. Justin sat up and forced himself to calm down, terrified that his stress was affecting the baby too much. He knew the baby could now hear him and he imagined how horrible it must have been to have to listen to him crying as well as feeling his body shaking.

“I’m so sorry, Be,” he spoke, drying his tears as he stood up. “I’m so worried about your Dad.” He placed his hand under his t-shirt and felt the baby’s movements become less spastic. “That’s it, calm down,” he encouraged. He took a few deep breaths and began to put away the groceries from the bin. Seeing the chips and sliced turkey made his appetite came back full force. “All right, Be. I’ll make us some lunch and we’ll relax for a bit before I check on Dada again. I have to take care of you too or Dad will be angry with me when he gets better.” The baby kicked at Justin’s hand as if to agree with him. “Dada will get better,” he said again, knowing there was no other option. Justin would make sure that Brian was well again.

 

***
 

Justin was cleaning up the kitchen when he heard Brian moaning his name. He rushed into the bedroom and sat on the bed beside him. “Brian, I’m right here.”

Brian opened his eyes. “Ju...” He didn’t understand why he couldn’t get his words to form correctly.

Justin leaned down, put his lips to Brian’s cheek, and immediately popped his head up as the heat transferred to them. “Brian?” Justin said, trying not to panic. “You’re burning up so I need to get you into a cool bath. These sponge ones aren’t doing any good.” Justin had no idea how he was going to do it, he would have to find the strength to lift Brian; he had no other choice.

Brian tried to sit up but fell backward. “Help,” he said groggily.

“I will help you.” Justin felt himself start to shake inside and forced himself to calm down. He couldn’t let his nerves get a hold of him and allow Brian to see how terrified he was. “I’m going to go start the bath, Brian. I’ll be right back,” he promised.

As Justin rushed around the bed, his eyes landed on the office chair in front of his desk. Mild relief swept through his body as he realized he could use that to push Brian into the bathroom so he wouldn’t strain himself too much. Beside it was a step stool he used to reach the books on the top shelf of his bookcase. He sighed as his mind contemplated his plan for bathing Brian.

Stool in hand, Justin walked into the bathroom and placed it in the tub. He decided against filling it up and would have Brian sit on the step stool while he used the detachable showerhead to spray him down. This would make it easier for Justin to get Brian in and out. He placed towels around the base of the plastic stool so it wouldn’t slide around the porcelain and another on seat to be used as a cushion.

Justin was surprised to see Brian sitting up when he reentered the bedroom. It had to be a good sign that he had managed to take off his tee and boxers himself.

He rolled the chair to the side of the bed and told Brian, “I’m gonna push you in there on this so I don’t have to lift you too much.”

Brian nodded his head and winced. “Gotta pee,” he mumbled touching his penis.

Justin held Brian’s hand. “Come on, we’ll be in the bathroom in just a minute.”

“Now,” Brian coughed. “S…sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Brian. You took care of me when I was sick,” he told the man and grabbed the empty water bottle from the night table. Justin held the bottle up to Brian’s penis and instructed, “Okay, go ahead.”

Brian sighed as he relieved himself and Justin placed the bottle on the dresser so he could dispose of it later. Right now, he had to get Brian to the bathroom so that he could cool him down.

It took ten minutes for Justin to get Brian into the tub and once he was in there he turned the water to warm, not wanting to shock him with the cold. He undressed himself, got into the tub, and began to spray Brian down.

Brian moaned uncomfortably and wondered why Justin was giving him a cold shower. He wanted to ask but then he saw Justin put the hose back in the holder and came face to face with Justin’s protruding stomach when he turned back around.

Justin started to wash Brian’s hair, blocking the spray with his back, glad that the other man already felt cooler. “You’re doing well, Brian,” he encouraged. “I know it’s cold but I think this helping you.”

Brian put his arms around Justin’s waist and placed his soapy head upon his belly. “My baby,” Brian said sweetly, smiling up at Justin.

“Yes,” Justin whispered, happy that Brian hadn’t stuttered when he’d spoke that time. He continued to wash Brian’s hair as the man rested his head against him, gurgling words that Justin couldn’t understand. He took the hose down again, rinsed Brian’s hair out, and went on to wash Brian’s body. He was almost finished when he lifted up Brian’s arm and spotted a huge open sore.

“Hurts,” Brian whimpered, trying to lower his arm.

“Please let me see,” Justin asked.

“K,” Brian groaned allowing Justin to lift his arm again.

Justin saw a small tube like structure pushing out through the skin in the center of the inflamed sore. It’s not food poisoning, he thought. Brian’s body is rejecting the IUD! Justin lightly washed the sore and rinsed it while Brian whined but still was so out of it that he didn’t seem to understand what it was that was causing him pain.

Justin’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he tried to figure out what he should do. Why would his body be rejecting this now? he wondered, shutting the water off. He first dried himself off, threw on a robe, and then dried off Brian who still seemed to be keeping a lower temperature. He said it was still good for a few years. Maybe something is wrong with the medicine in it? he mentally concluded. I have to figure out what to do now.

Working quickly, Justin got Brian out of the bathtub and wheeled him back into bed, not bothering with putting any clothes on him. As soon as Brian’s head was against the pillow, he fell asleep. Justin wanted to ask Brian about the IUD and see if he knew what might cause it to be infected but Brian was so exhausted, Justin doubted the man would be able to answer coherently.

“What am I going to do?” he whispered to his sleeping lover. “You need a doctor. However, even if I did beg them to send one I don’t think they would, Brian. I don’t understand why this is happening. The only reason these things are supposed to be taken out early is if the person is planning to get pregnant. I didn’t read anything that said this might happen. I wish you’d wake up and tell me what to do for you,” Justin pleaded. “The baby and I need you…” Justin sucked in a deep breath as instinctual thoughts paraded in his mind.

He stumbled off the bed to stand beside Brian. He blinked his eyes a few times while he internally tried to deny what he’d been thinking. “You can’t be,” he whispered, grabbing the hem of the sheet and pulling it down Brian’s body. “Ohhhh god!” Justin shrieked as his eyes took in Brian’s body.

“How could I not have noticed?” Justin asked. The possible evidence of his thoughts showed itself on Brian’s body.

Brian was thin, much thinner than Justin realized but he had never said a word about it because he knew how much Brian liked to keep in shape. He loved Brian and thought the man was perfect the way he was. Yet Brian’s stomach wasn’t exactly perfect, his washboard abs were nowhere to be seen and lying on his back there was a pronounced rise of his stomach.

His hand shaking, Justin reached out and placed it on Brian’s stomach. He lightly pressed his hand around Brian’s firm belly. He remembered that his stomach felt the same way in the early months of his pregnancy with Beacan. Justin knew that he had to find out if his predictions were the truth before he did anything else.

Justin looked to his right, saw the bottle of urine still sitting on the nightstand, and carefully brought it into the bathroom. He placed it on the sink counter while he went into one of the drawers under the sink and pulled out a box of pregnancy tests. His mind was on overdrive as he opened the instrument and took the bottle to the toilet, pouring its contents over the stick and then did the same thing with four other tests. His heart raced as he paced back and forth, looking from the clock to the stick on the counter. Justin could feel the baby inside him rolling around as if Be was also nervously awaiting the results.

In a matter of minutes the word, PREGNANT, appeared in each test window.

Justin’s breath hitched and tears clouded his eyes, but he couldn’t allow himself to be caught up in his emotions. He realized that the life growing inside Brian was possibly just as sick as Brian was and hadn’t had any nutrition for days.

He had to take it out of Brian.

He opened the medicine cabinet and took out the peroxide, cotton swabs and bandages. Justin gathered them and took them to the bedroom before going into the kitchen and grabbing the small pair of scissors from the hair cutting set. Returning to the bedroom, Justin crawled in next to Brian and tried to see if he could wake him. “Brian, can you hear me?” Justin called to his lover and tried to shake him.

Thankfully, Brian was out of it and hopefully wouldn’t feel the pain Justin knew he would cause.

“I can do this,” Justin told himself. “He was going to have me do this before. He would want me to do this now to save him and the baby. I don’t have any other choice.”

Brian only moaned a few times through out the procedure, the tiny tube came out easily and Justin didn’t see any damage inside of the wound. After Justin stitched the opening and cleaned it for the second time, he was sure that the skin around it looked better in color. It appeared that Brian was already healing and Justin hoped and prayed that he’d continue to do so.

His work done, Justin cleaned up and rested his body beside Brian. He placed his hand on Brian’s stomach and a smile of hope graced his face as he drifted off to sleep.

 

***
 

Hours later Justin felt Brian moving beside him and bolted up in bed. “Are you okay?” Justin asked, feeling Brian’s forehead.

“Justin,” Brian mumbled, coming to as he turned to look at Justin, his eyes clear.

“You don’t have a fever anymore,” Justin concluded. “How do you feel?”

Brian shrugged his shoulders and felt a pain under his arm. He looked down and saw a bandage there and gave Justin a terrified look as he asked, “Wh…what happ… fuck!” he yelled. “T...tell me!”

“Brian, calm down,” Justin advised in a soft voice. “Take a deep breath, Brian. You are going to be okay.”

“Wh…what happened t…to me?” Brian asked through ragged breaths.

“Brian, look at me.” Justin waited until Brian’s eyes focused on him before he answered. “You didn’t have food poisoning. You had an infection from your birth control.”

Brian sat up and inspected his arm. “You…you t…took it out?”

“I had to Brian, it was hurting you. You seem like a different person than you did just a couple of hours ago. I didn’t think you were going to live, Brian. I had to do it. I noticed in the shower that you had a wound because your body was trying to push it out.”

“Oh, god,” Brian said burying his face in his hands. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“Brian, there’s more,” he said, taking Brian’s hands in his.

Brian looked at Justin and was amazed to see a small sparkle in the blue eyes. He raised his eyebrows questioning Justin. “What?”

Justin wasn’t sure exactly how to tell Brian what he knew. He was worried that Brian would be angry with him for getting him pregnant but it wasn’t as though he could hide it from him. “I got you pregnant, Brian,” Justin gasped out.

Brian’s expression went from worried to confused as he whispered, “You what?”

“I think the IUD was ineffective and your body was trying to fight what was there out of your system because you were pregnant,” Justin told him.

Brian opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “How can you think I’m pregnant?” Brian was completely awake and coherent now; the information cleared him out of any remaining fog.

“I tested your urine, Brian.” Justin moved one of his hands to Brian’s stomach. “And look, can’t you see how your belly is different?”

Brian looked down at himself. There was definitely a difference in his lower stomach; one he’d noticed but had thought was caused from little exercise. “I’m pregnant?”

“Yes. How do you feel?” Justin asked.

“I feel really tired and overwhelmed,” he said honestly. “But much better than I remember last feeling. Will you lie down with me?”

“Yes, but let me at least get you some water and you need to try and eat something too.” Justin got out of the bed and grabbed the saltines and a fresh bottle of water from the nightstand.

Brian took the items and carefully ate a few crackers and drank the whole bottle of water. “Thank you for taking care of me, Justin.”

Justin smiled. “I love you,” he whispered, lying down next to Brian.

“I love you, too. Thank you for saving me, Justin. For saving us.” Brian took their hands and placed them on his stomach. And then, it all hit him. He was still stuck here, kidnapped, and now he was going to have a baby too. “I’m really scared,” he admitted. “I don’t want to have our children grow up here.”

“I’m really scared too, but I have to believe that one day we won’t be here. And we’ll have our family together and everything will be okay.” Justin kissed Brian’s cheek. “We have to believe that, Brian.”

Brian smiled and whispered, “What would I do without you?”

“That’s what I was thinking the whole time you were sick,” Justin confessed. “I want you well again.”

“How are you and Be doing?” Brian asked while yawning.

“We’re just fine, Brian. Be has been active but is now sleeping and I am so much better now that your fever is gone. Do you feel different?”

Brian thought for a moment. “I feel really worn out form being sick so physically I don’t think I’ll be able to tell until I’m completely better. Mentally, I feel a thousand different emotions and I don’t think I can put a name on any of them except that I feel amazed. It is amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” Justin said. “Believe me I know the feeling.”

“It’s going to be busy around here, taking care of two almost at once.”

“But we’ll make it,” Justin said positively.

“How far along do you think I am?”

“Well those pregnancy tests worked faster than I’ve ever seen. I took like five of them Brian and within two minutes they all read pregnant. I read in a book that unless you’re about three months along your hormones aren’t strong enough to produce a result so quickly on the at-home tests. But that could be wrong. When you’re completely 100 percent better I’ll check you like you did for me.”

A chill passed through Brian. “But I’m not very big. I can’t be that far.”

“You might be,” Justin said. “But every pregnancy is different so your body may show early or late, remember we read that?”

“Yeah,” Brian breathed out in relief. “But don’t you think I should’ve felt the baby if I’m this far along.”

“Some people don’t feel their baby until they’re five months along. As long as you start eating healthy and gaining weight from here on out, I’m sure the baby will be just fine, Brian. There’s so little that you and I can control here, but one thing we can control is our state of mind. We have to be positive, no matter what’s going on or our babies will feel that we’re stressed out and that will affect them.”

“You’re right,” Brian agreed. “I’ve got to keep myself calm. It’s just that I can’t believe I’m going to have a baby. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“Me neither,” Justin spoke tiredly. “Get some sleep, Brian. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Brian fell asleep as soon as his eyes closed and Justin followed seconds later.
 

XXXXX

A Captivating Coupling

Chapter 12: Secrets

 

Saturday, February 7, 1998

We all need money, but there are degrees of desperation. ~ Anthony Burgess

Craig sat at the dining table in Brian Kinney’s loft across from Cynthia. They'd been going through stacks of documents and journals for over three hours and up to this point hadn't found anything that gave any clue as to the names of who Brian's roommate and the other man were. Craig closed another old notebook, set it aside and reached for another in the huge stack that they'd dug out of a box from Brian's storage area. The box had been labeled with the years Brian had attended the University but most everything they read were short stories or journal entries that had nothing to do with college.

“Find anything?” Cynthia asked.

Craig shook his head, opened the next spiral notebook, and began to read.

Cynthia had written down a list of the names of people that made up Brian's family, friends and business acquaintances she knew weren't involved so that if Craig happened to see one of their names he wouldn't waste time in the search. Fictitious characters from his unpublished and private stories were also written down on the list placed between them on the table. Every now and then, Craig would check it and she’d silently get her hopes up, only to have them dashed. The experience was almost more painful than the day she discovered the note about his abduction.

Craig turned the page of what seemed to be a notebook completely dedicated as a personal journal. He didn’t want to jinx anything, so he didn’t get too excited when he started reading entries with the date so near to the time he’d met Brian. He scanned the words slowly to be sure that he wasn’t missing a thing. Halfway into the notebook the dates jumped, leaving a gap of two weeks between entries that had been written at least every other day.

Craig sucked in a deep breath at the date at the top of the page, not only for the significance but also because of how it was written. Instead of spelling out the month, date and year as Brian had with the others, this only had numbers and dashes, clearly showing that when he was writing it he was in a hurry. The messier scrawl of all the words told him with one glance that whatever Brian wrote was extremely emotional and very important.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck have I done? What is wrong with me? Who have I become in the last 24 hours? How did I let myself get caught up in this?

I’m a fucking paid whore and a monster!

Why couldn't they just leave me alone? Why did I agree to this? Was it worth it?

Fuck! Of course it wasn’t!

I never wanted to fuck him but he just wouldn't let it go, and then he fucking threatened me! What was I supposed to do huh? Was I just supposed to throw my last year at University down the drain, be expelled because that little fucker thought he could actually win the bet, and win ME?

Why didn't I just keep my mouth fucking shut? Why?

I’ve written a hundred short stories about fictional characters and the stupid situations they get into and can’t get out of. I should have known better. Now, now, I have to write my own fucking story so I don’t ever forget what a stupid asshole I am!

“You think you can get anyone you want Kinney,” the fucker egged me on. His little fucking tag-a-long sat beside him looking between us both, hating me and loving me at the same time because I wouldn’t give his ‘master’ what he wanted. “You think you can get anything you want?”

“I can,” I replied smugly. Stupidly. “You think that with Daddy's money you can pay off all your fucking professors to get what you want.” I really tried to get up from the booth and walk away but the fucker grabbed my arm and I had no choice but to turn around and face him. I wasn’t going to be a coward like the idiot beside him.

“That may be true, Kinney. But I back up what I say. Don't think I haven't heard about all the little promises you make to your conquests to get them into bed only to fuck them over.”

“That's a fucking lie!” I answered, wanting to drag the fucker out of his seat and kick his ass. But I didn’t, instead I leaned into his ear and bated him, “Don’t act like you have morals. Even if what you said was true, which it isn’t, I don’t think that’s your problem. You can't stand that I haven't and won’t have you, that’s your real problem.”

He released my arm then and took a drink of his beer, his coal black eyes never left mine and I fucking hated that he was making me feel like I had to prove something. And to him of all people! I always knew the kind of person he was and tried to get my room changed when they put me with him in the first place, but the school told me I didn't have a valid reason for needing to change rooms.

“You know damn well that isn't what I want from you, Brian. If you lose, you'll see what it is that I will get.”

“I'm not taking your fucking bet.” I told him this, but honestly, I could feel myself start to bend.

If I didn't take his stupid fucking bet he'd pay off my professors and force them to fail me. I knew he would do it because I’ve seen him throw money around to get what he wants and he always does. I knew that there was little I could do to expose his lies if he did bribe my professors. He gets off on torturing people and I’d done my best to stay out of conflicts with him but the last time I turned down his advances he warned me that I’d made the wrong the choice. I knew that he would figure out some way to get back at me and I’d been trying to prepare myself for it, but there really was no way to prepare.

“How about if I up the ante'?” he snickered.

“No, don’t,” his sidekick put his hand on his shoulder but he brushed it off.

“Shut the fuck up and stay the fuck out of this,” the fucker hissed. “I thought you were on my side, aren't you my best friend, Shorty?”

Of course Shorty just nodded his head and shut his mouth, he was so obsessed with the asshole that he did whatever he wanted.

“If you win Brian, not only will I leave you and your professors alone, but I'll give you three million dollars as a graduation gift. That is if you make it to graduation.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” I told him, not even considering taking his money.

“You’re crazy if you don’t at least try, Brian. Just think of the alternative if you don’t do it. You can either gain or lose everything. If you don’t agree to the bet I’ll fucking make the phone call to your Theology Professor right fucking now.”

The piece of shit was going to ruin my life if I didn’t at least agree to the bet. Whether I could win or not. Which I was sure I could because no one had ever turned me down before. I made myself believe that the worst that could happen is that I would have to fuck some geeky guy. I was completely wrong.

I had no choice but to agree to go through with it. “Okay, I'll do it.”

They both looked at me and when the fucker started to laugh, Shorty did too.

“Pick him,” I told him. I wanted to get it over with.

“It's not that simple, Brian,” the fucker sneered.

“I don't have all night!”

“We have to discuss terms.”

“Fine! Tell me what the fuck your terms are.” Nothing was going to be done on my terms, that’s for fucking sure.

“You have to bring who I choose back to our place. Leave your door open so that me and Shorty can actually see for ourselves that you’re going at it.”

“Fine,” I agreed.

“Him.”

I took a long swallow of my beer and looked to where his hand was pointing. When I saw who he chose I couldn’t believe it. “There's no fucking way. That guy doesn't have an ounce of queer in him.”

“I thought you could have whoever you wanted?”

I took another look at the man he'd chosen, a dirty blond, older than most of the college crowd but still pretty good looking. He wasn't fat or repulsive or anything, but something about him told me that he was a family man. I honestly wasn't sure if I could do it.

“So? Are you forfeiting or taking the bet?”

I looked at the fucker and damned myself. “I’m taking the bet,” I told him.

I walked toward Justin man who sat in the booth surrounded by books and papers. I noticed his beer was almost empty. I grabbed two beers from the bar and slowly walked down to the corner. I took a deep breath and slid in on the side of him, managing not to spill the drafts all over his papers.

He looked up at me and nervously stammered, “That seat is taken...uhm...well actually it's just me, but I'm busy here.”

His behavior was actually a little endearing so I smiled and leaned back getting more comfortable. “I figured it was just you sitting here. I saw that your beer was empty and thought I'd buy you another.”

He looked at me, then the full beer and his empty beer before settling his eyes on me again. “Uhm, thank you, but I'm very busy here, and I'm not gay.” His pale cheeks blushed and his hand holding the pen pointed to the silver band around his left ring finger.

“I figured,” I said and took a long drink from my beer and then picked up his empty one from its place and put the full one there.

“I really wouldn't feel right accepting your drink.” He picked it up and took a sip of it anyway.

“So you're married?” I asked, thinking maybe if I could make him stop the jitters of nervousness and talk he might at the very least hear me out.

“Yes, happily and I also have a son.” He said it so proudly.

“You're not a professor here are you?”

He gave a small laugh and shook his head. “No, I'm not. I've been working for an investment company and this year they decided to do an over haul of the staff.” He picked up the beer again and this time drank a few chugs before setting it back down and wiping at his mouth with a napkin.

“In other words they're laying off a bunch of their dedicated employees.” I remembered when my father's job had done the same thing.

“I work for an electronics warehouse. I was informed by my boss that I was the most qualified and the best worker he has but that I lack some business skills for position that he'd like to promote me to. I've been taking those classes and I go up for review after the summer courses end. But that meant they were going to cut my hours while I attended school, but instead I told them I'd take the afternoon, night and weekend classes and start work earlier.”

“You sound really dedicated, but that doesn't give you much time with your family does it?” I was even happier knowing that maybe I would be doing a good thing in the end, helping myself and him too.

I’m a fucking idiot!

“No, I hardly see my son anymore at all. I'm usually here studying; it's been a real strain on us as a family. My little boy and my wife are my life, but if I don't do this I may lose my job and then my son won't get to attend the school he goes to and we'd loose our house and everything else.” He grabbed the brew and drank it until it was gone. “A year ago I thought I’d saved enough to start my own electronics company but now I don’t think that’s even a possibility.”

I signaled a waitress for another round and checked back to see my devious roommate and his sidekick staring at us. “I have a problem like yours too,” I said giving the waitress her money and a tip and taking a long drink.

“I thought you were gay? I mean... I just...” he stammered.

“I am.” I took another gulp and then started telling him everything about the bet, every detail with the exception of who I was chosen to fuck. I told him what my psycho of a roommate would do to me if I didn't take it, and what he would do if I lost.

“I can't believe he would do that to you,” he whispered. “All because he wants you to sleep with him?”

“Yeah, so that's why I took the bet,” I said, rubbing my hands over my eyes. “What other choice did I have?”

“But who did he choose for you to sleep with?” The words were barely out of his mouth before he started to shake his head. “No, no, no, I can't do this. I'm sorry, I know it's terrible what's happening to you but I can't help you.”

“Not even if I help you?” I asked leaning forward. I was desperately hoping to hell he'd keep his voice down and those who watched would think this was some kind of intimate scene going on.

He leaned in closer too. “How can you help me?” he asked.

“I know you just met me an hour ago but do you think you could trust me? Do you think I look like a conniving prick like that bastard in the booth back there?” I stopped him before he looked by turning his face to mine. “They're watching me. They can't know I told you. Do you trust me?” I asked him again, and the reality of the situation was suddenly bearing down on me and my heart was hammering in my chest.

“You seem like a good person yes, and I do think I could trust you,” he said finally to my relief.

“If you do this with me, after he writes me the check and it goes through, give me until the end of the school year so that nothing looks too suspicious and I'll give you half. Maybe then you could get your own business started?”

“What?” he whispered. “I couldn’t do that. How would I explain the money?”

“You’d have to explain it to your taxes the same way that I would. A rich friend gave me some money for a graduation gift and I felt the need to do the same for you. Just think about how the money could change your life. If you really wanted, you could start your own business instead of working for someone else. Then you’d have all the time in the world to spend with your wife and kid.”

“But what about my wife? How will I explain the money to her?” He put his fingers around his wedding band and started to twirl it nervously around his finger.

I could feel them staring at us, their eyes on the back of my head. I reached across the table and put my hands over his, amidst the books. “You never tell her the truth. Tell her you got in touch with an old friend from college who wanted to silently invest in you and your family's future, in your business.”

“Oh, god, I can't believe I'm considering this,” he whispered desperately. “One time, that's all? We never have to meet again.”

“You have to want me,” I told him. “Do you think you could pretend like you do?”

He scrunched up his face. “It's for a new life for me and my family, I can do anything.”

We discussed details about how I would pay him half of the money, agreed on a date, time and location before moving on with the plan.


Craig stopped reading for a minute and took a deep breath; he could feel the beads of sweat dripping down his neck. He glanced over at Cynthia who hadn't noticed that he'd been reading certain pages for so long. It was so odd reading about the fateful day through Brian’s words. Even though the man was angry, he'd managed to include all the details, things Craig hadn't really remembered until he read them. Craig could see why it was that Brian was a best-selling author, the man had the gift to transport you into what he wrote and he'd only read a rough draft in a journal. He looked back down at the pages and knew he had to continue reading and looking for a name.

Everything went as planned at first. I could see the voyeurs looking in on us. I was thankful they were late and missed the beginning. He hadn’t looked at me the whole time and I knew that he was probably trying to think he was with a woman but as soon as he finished, reality returned. His eyes opened and he looked at my forehead. I looked up at him, silently pleading that he’d do as we’d rehearsed.

Something seemed to snap within him, his eyes closed tight again and he pulled out of me, roughly and snapped the condom off his cock. “You were incredible,” he spoke in a soft voice while gathering his clothes.”

“It was great,” I spoke the lie we’d rehearsed in the car.

“You were so good, if I can get away from the wife I'd love to have another go.”

I bent down to grab my boxer shorts and saw the condom lying right beside them. It was completely shredded and I had no idea if it had gotten that way because of how he’d taken it off his cock or because…. I can’t even write it here. I had to stay with what we’d rehearsed; I couldn’t worry about anything else.

He dressed and I followed him out into the living room. As predicted, Peter and Shorty aka Hank, were sitting on the couch watching a muted television and faked shock at seeing us come out of my bedroom together. He turned toward me and gave me the most awkward kiss I’ll probably ever experience and asked, “Can I have your number?”

“I don't have a phone,” I answered him, ignoring Peter and Shorty while pushing him toward the door.

“My name is Matt. What did you say yours was?” he asked as I opened the door to the dorm’s hall.

“Doesn't matter, I only do people once. Sorry,” I spoke the final rehearsed word and closed the door. I have no idea if that really was his name or not, or if that was something he came up with on the spur of the moment.

“Nothing changes,” the asshole hissed behind me and his puppy dog laughed.

I turned toward the two of them and felt my anger rising as they smirked at one another. “Are you happy now, Peter?”

“Brian, calm down,” he warned me as I walked closer to him.

I went completely crazy and gave Peter what he’d always wanted. I just needed it to be done with and for some reason I felt like I’d be able to erase what had happened with me and ‘Matt’ if I just did it, if I gave the fucker what he’d always wanted. Hank watched the whole time I had Peter bent over the couch, he was sucking Peter’s dick and kissing him as I fucked him as roughly as I could.

I didn’t come; I wouldn’t have given him that. It wasn’t pleasurable to fuck him and it felt nothing like revenge. Hank seemed like he was in just as much of a hurry to end it all as I was. The second I trashed the condom he was off grabbing Peter’s bankbook and giving him the telephone to make the necessary phone calls. When Peter handed me the promissory note it felt like I’d just sold my soul to the devil. That really isn’t that much of a stretch.

I knew that I had to get the fuck out of that dorm room, no matter the consequences. I locked myself in my bedroom while I gathered everything I gave a shit a about into three duffle bags. When I came out of my room, the site in my living room blew me away.

Peter was still naked, fucking Hank just as roughly as I fucked him. But I could tell that Hank wasn't enjoying it as much as Peter had enjoyed me fucking him, though he sure was trying to act like it. It was sad, really. Both of them had finally gotten what they wanted and obviously, it wasn’t at all how they imagined it, but they deserved it. Didn’t they? After what they forced me to do?

As I left the dorm, I heard Peter yelling my name but I blocked whatever he was saying from my mind. I’d had enough of him. It was almost morning when I got into my car and drove out to where I am now. There’s a wooded area near the Pennsylvania and West Virginia border with a secluded lake in the clearing off an old dirt road. I found it one night that I was driving around getting high and just needing to be somewhere other than my dorm room.

I don’t think many people know of this place, though that may change now that there’s been houses sporadically built not far from here. The sunrise makes the lake water sparkle and the beauty relaxes me enough so that I can start to work out what I’m going to do now. Writing all this down has helped too, not that I’ll ever re-read it. This will be one story that will never see the light of day.

I may have a lot more to deal with in my future because of that stupid fucking bet. There’s a big possibility that I’ll have more than just myself to consider in my decisions and doubt that ‘Matt’ will want me fucking up his family any more than I already have.



Craig felt a heady rush of nausea and tried to control the conflicting feelings he was experiencing due to what Brian had implied. He knew that he had to tell Cynthia about what he’d found but he was finding it hard to speak.

Cynthia quickly stood, knocking her chair backward and waving a piece of paper as she yelled, “Peter Marshall! Peter Marshall II signed over this promissory note to Brian! I think we have him!”

Craig’s nausea passed as soon as it came and he quickly shut the notebook. “Thank God,” he gasped.

“We have got to go down to the station and show this to Carl,” Cynthia said, running toward the door.

With Cynthia’s back turned, Craig grabbed the notebook he’d been reading and the one underneath labeled with the next year. He rolled them up and tucked them in the waist of his trousers as he followed Cynthia toward the loft door. “I'll meet you at the station, I've got to call my wife and update her,” he told her quickly, following her out of the loft.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit,” Cynthia replied, locking the door behind her and running down the steps.

Craig took the stairs more carefully, his body back to feeling nauseas as he tried to figure out how he was going to tell his wife the truth. He reached his car and sat down in the driver’s seat, taking deep breaths to quell the sick inside of him. “It was mine,” he breathed out, not even realizing he’d spoken at first. Then he said it again, “It was mine,” and memories of that day filled his present thoughts.

Jennifer had taken Justin to the hospital because their son had fallen from the second rung of the tree house ladder. Justin had knocked his head on his tricycle, which he’d parked at the bottom of the ladder, and the cut required a few stitches in his forehead. He had been in the middle of viewing buildings for his new business with a realtor when he’d gotten the call and immediately left to meet his wife and son in the emergency room.

An E.R. receptionist told him that they’d admitted Justin due to him having an allergic reaction to the pain medication he’d been given. As he walked down the hallway he was directed to he saw a nurse hurry her way out of one of the rooms and caught a glimpse of the patient inside. Brian was sitting up on the bed, red-faced and panting with sobs.

“The fetus wasn't developed enough,” he’d heard a male speak before the door could shut all the way.

He’d shamelessly stepped closer to the door and caught it with his foot, but made sure to stay to the side of it so that he wouldn’t appear to be listening in.

A woman’s voice gently spoke, “I'm so sorry, Brian. Do you want me to call the other father for you?”

“No,” Brian had wept. “He knows that I’m here. I'll call him later, just… just please leave me alone now.”

Craig had thought that Brian had been being truthful and therefore it meant that it wasn’t his child. When they had met at the destination to exchange the check Brian hadn’t said a word to him about him being pregnant so he’d thought that it had to have been a more recent pregnancy from a different man.

Craig had given Brian his full name when Brian wrote him the ‘investment’ check so he was sure that Brian could have contacted him by looking his name and number up in the phone book: Mathew C. Taylor. Matt was his first name, but he’d always gone by Craig to avoid confusion with his father who was also named Matt. He’d been so sure that Brian would’ve asked him for help if the baby had been his, he may have even intended to later. However, from what Brian had told the doctors, Craig was convinced that the baby wasn’t his and he went on with living his life.

But what he’d thought was the truth, had been far from it. It was time for the truth to come out.
 

XXXXX

Moments in Captivity

Chapter 12: Before You

 

Sunday, April 5, 1998

At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet ~ Plato

“I’ve gotten huge,” Brian whispered to himself. He checked out his body from all possible angles in the bedroom’s full-length mirror. This had become his morning routine since his stomach noticeably began to grow in the last six weeks. He’d gained eight pounds and his stomach ballooned rapidly, appearing to him that he’d gained much more weight than the scale told him he had since first finding out he was pregnant.

“If you’re huge than I’m massive,” Justin groggily spoke from the bed, lazily petting Duchess.

Brian gave Justin a sheepish look as he turned to face him. “You’re beautiful pregnant,” he said sincerely.

Justin snorted a laugh of disbelief and reached his hand out for Brian as the man sat down on the bed beside him. “And just what do you think you look like pregnant?” he asked.

“Awkward,” Brian said firmly, holding Justin’s hand. “I look awkward.”

“You’re gorgeous, Brian.” Justin yawned and urged Duchess to jump down from the bed, “Go on, kitty.”

Duchess was becoming extremely lazy and it looked like she was going to listen to Justin at first, but once she peered over the side of the bed to the floor she thought better of it and leapt to the other side of the bed and crawled under the pillows.

“Lazy cat,” Justin laughed and reached his arm out to Brian. “Help me sit up?”

Brian wasn’t looking forward to the day that he would be so big that he’d need help sitting or standing. Justin didn’t need help all the time, usually just in the mornings when his body was still tired, but he was sure that it wouldn’t be long before he was being called to help Justin up whenever he sat down. Thankfully, Brian still felt extremely limber and besides hating that his rock hard abs had turned into a small boulder, he had been experiencing a very easy pregnancy.

“I feel like I’m as wide as I am tall,” Justin sighed, leaning against Brian’s chest. “You will never reach that point since you’re so tall.”

Brian held Justin close and murmured, “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m tired as usual, but good,” Justin replied.

Brian swallowed deeply and asked, “Any pains?”

Justin looked up and shook his head at Brian. “I’m fine, I promise.”

Justin’s pregnancy was nearing the predicted weeks of pregnancy he’d been at with Beacan when he’d gone into early labor. They estimated the best they could about their pregnancies but they couldn’t be exactly sure. Besides oral sex, they’d agreed to abstain for the last couple of weeks. Even though their reading told them it was okay to engage in intercourse, Brian’s guilt and fear plagued him enough that he couldn’t perform if he wanted to. They’d decided to wait until they guessed Justin was closer to his due date, if it was comfortable for them both at that time. Neither was willing to take any unnecessary risks.

“You woke up a lot earlier than usual,” Justin commented while placing kisses along Brian’s neck. “You tossed and turned a lot last night.”

Glimpses of the memories/nightmares Brian had been having for the last three weeks entered his mind but he pushed them away. He wanted to tell Justin, he knew that he needed to, but he couldn’t risk upsetting Justin and causing him so much stressed that he might go into pre-term labor. “Just getting accustomed to the baby moving around I guess,” he replied.

Justin smiled while resting his head against Brian’s shoulder. “What do you think your family will say when we go home with these babies?”

Brian huffed a laugh as he imagined everyone’s reactions, at least what they would have been if they hadn’t been kidnapped and forced into the situation. He whispered in Justin’s ear, “I think they’ll be so damn happy that we’re home they won’t think about telling me how absolutely crazy it is that I am father.”

Justin couldn’t’ imagine Brian as the person Brian told him he’d been, it wasn’t anything like the man he knew him to be now. Brian’s family seemed to have odd expectations of him that Justin didn’t understand. Brian tried to explain the people in his life and his relationships with them, but Justin didn’t get them and supposed he wouldn’t until he met them. “I hope your family will like me,” he spoke his fear softly. “They’ll be my family too.”

Brian kissed Justin nose and assured him, “Believe me. My family will love you.”

Duchess peaked her head out from under Brain’s fluffy pillows and meowed.

“They’ll love you too, Duchess,” Brian assured the cat while laughing.

Seeming to understand Brian completely, Duchess gave a contended purr and went back to hiding.

Brian voiced his previous thoughts, “Actually Justin, I think it’ll be me trying to win over your family.”

“Why do you think that? You saved me.”

“Not yet,” Brian spoke quietly. “Justin, what we’ve done… what I have done to you sexually, it’s illegal in Pennsylvania.”

“I know, you’ve told me,” Justin croaked, burying his head in Brian’s chest. “But it isn’t your fault, Brian. We had no choice. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t like it.”

“Even if the law realizes that I was forced into doing it, even if you tell them you wanted it, there may still be repercussions. Not everyone is going to be so understanding when they find out how truly young you were when I took your virginity. People are going to come up with all kinds of scenarios that will make it look like I took the easy way out. People are going to call me a p…”

Justin smashed his lips to Brian’s, cutting the man off. He swept his tongue against Brian’s lips and ran his hands up Brian’s back, trying to soothe the fear out of his body. There was no way that he’d ever let Brian blame himself for what they’d been forced into. It was true that had they been living their lives and met on the street with him so young, they probably wouldn’t have been together, but that didn’t matter because it was a completely hypothetical scenario. He and Brian’s lives were completely different from the lives of almost every other American abiding by the laws.

Brian pulled away from Justin’s kiss to catch his breath. “You kissed me to shut me up,” he said, laughing. All the tension he’d felt had evaporated the moment his tongue gave into the caresses of Justin’s.

Justin smiled smugly at Brian. “I did.”

“That’s what I’d always do to Mikey when he talked too much,” Brian admitted.

Justin’s stomach growled, interrupting the question he’d had on the tip of his tongue and would soon forget. “Come on; let’s get some breakfast in us. Maybe afterward we can each have a protein snack?” He cupped Brian’s balls through the material of his sweat pants and lazily dragged his finger up to dance across Brian’s morning wood. “Does that sound good to you, Mr. Kinney?”

“It definitely does, Mr. Taylor,” Brian groaned. He watched as Justin smiled brightly at him before disappearing into the hall.

 

***
 

Sunday, June 21, 1998

It was Father’s Day and Brian and Justin had celebrated by preparing the children’s bedroom. A second crib had arrived the week before and today they’d put it together, placing it beside the other one. They both felt the weight of the loss of their first baby, but neither could speak of it. It was too hard to think about how they would’ve been spending their first father’s day together had their son lived.

After decorating the crib with bedding to match the other, they went into their bedroom to start preparing all of the things they’d need for the home birth. That is, if that was what they would be allowed to do. Brian and Justin both feared that they would take Justin away once he went into labor, but they knew they had to be prepared if that didn’t happen. Justin was sure that they wouldn’t have delivered them all the medical supplies and books on at-home childbirth if that wasn’t what the kidnappers were going to allow, but he also had his doubts.

Brian had ordered a chest to store all the items they’d asked for and placed the final items, five large towels, a small plastic tarp to cover the bed with and a box of latex gloves. He closed the lid on the chest and declared, “Done.”

Justin took a deep calming breath as his baby kicked him. “We’re all set for you,” Justin spoke to the baby.

Brian slowly stood and walked over to Justin who was leaning against the post for the bed. He placed his hand on Justin’s stomach and then on his own. “Before you know it, they’ll both be here.” It was hard for him to fathom that fact at times. Brian had moments on a daily basis where he still couldn’t believe that he was carrying a child and that Justin was too and it astounded him.

 

***
 

Wednesday, July 1, 1998

Brian poured out the last of the fruit rings into his bowl and was surprised when a tiny plastic bag fell on top of the cereal. He looked at the front of the cereal box and it confirmed that inside the bag was one of three adjustable ‘Freedom Rings’, a promotion to celebrate Independence Day.

“Make me some of those too?” Justin requested. He was sitting on the couch with Duchess resting on his stomach, barely able to see the television over the fluffy cat’s body.

Brian’s mouth watered shamelessly and he just couldn’t give up the bowl of fruit rings to Justin. He’d been craving the things daily for the last month. “We’re all out of fruit rings; do you want me to make you something else?”

Justin looked at Brian over his shoulder and smiled at him. “I ordered three boxes last time we made a list. I put them in the pantry yesterday since they wouldn’t fit in the cereal cabinet. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you love them.”

“The baby loves them,” Brian defended walking over to the pantry and grabbing another box. His mouth watered more as he thought about eating a second bowl, which was ridiculous to him since he hadn’t even eaten the first.

“Oh and before you sit down can you turn the thermostat down?” Justin requested. He’d been experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions for a few weeks, but the closer it got to his due date, which he and Brian had estimated as July 3, the worst the side effects from them were. Heat waves passed through Justin’s body the stronger the contractions were and today he’d been feeling them more frequently than he ever had before.

“Sure,” Brian agreed, feeling a little over-heated himself. He opened the other box of cereal and poured it into the bowl, now remembering the ‘prize’ that was buried inside. He glanced at Justin to see if he’d catch him while he stuck his hand into the box and dug around until he felt the plastic bag and took it out.

Brian placed both bags on the counter before rinsing his arm off, grabbing the milk, two spoons and pouring the milk into their bowls. During this time, he was holding back from tearing open the two little packages like a kid on Christmas. He figured he’d better open them quickly before their cereal turned to mush and tore at the plastic until two rings popped out onto the counter.

The ring that had been in the first box had a silver band with a fake red ruby set into the top and the second ring was also a silver band but with a blue diamond set into it. Brian gave another look at Justin and was satisfied to see his attention focused on the movie he watched and the spoiled kitten purring on his belly. He moved the clasp apart to make the band larger and slid the ring with the blue diamond onto the third finger of his left hand. He laughed quietly to himself as he did this but he didn’t really care how silly it was. Brian pocketed both rings and brought their cereal over to the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“You’re gonna have to move, Duchess,” Justin told the kitten.

Duchess pouted as she listened to her boy and chose to curl up beside his leg on the couch. It wasn’t as comfortable as his stomach had been, but she made do and closed her eyes to take a catnap.

Brian turned the thermostat down and remarked, “It’s now 68 degrees in here. If I set it any lower my toes will freeze off.” He was much hotter than he normally was, but these days he was walking around the apartment in sweaters, socks and sweatpants to keep warm.

Justin was wearing a pair of cut-off sweat pants as shorts and no shirt. “If I get any hotter I’ll take a cold shower,” he promised, kissing Brian’s cheek as leaned against him. “Can you hand me my cereal?”

Brian had a hard time himself as he reached forward, his stomach getting in the way as he just barely grabbed their snack, nearly spilling it all over himself. “Here,” he said, breathing heavily as he sat back and began to eat.

“Thank you,” Justin replied, his mouth full. Never had the fruit rings tasted so good to him.

Brian finished his bowl off seconds after Justin finished his and he considered making another for himself but he first wanted to go ahead with his plan. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees in front of Justin, in between Justin’s spread legs.

Justin gave Brian a lustful smile and began to pull his rapidly hardening dick out of his shorts but was stopped by Brian’s hand. “What?”

“Not that, not yet anyway,” Brian said, taking a deep breath to quell his own rampant desire.

“Do you need help up?” Justin asked, confused. However, he wasn’t sure he could actually help Brian up from the floor.

Brian shook his head, reached into his pocket, and drew out both of the rings. “I want you to marry me.”

Justin definitely had not been expecting that. “What?”

Brian opened his hand and showed Justin the ‘jewelry’, nervous that Justin would think he was joking. “I want you to be my husband.”

“We can’t get married in here, Brian,” Justin laughed.

“Why not?”

“They’d never let us,” Justin said in a ‘duh’ tone of voice. “There’s no way.”

“They don’t have to let us; it’d be just for you and me.” Brian took another series of deep breaths. “We could say vows to one another; have a private ceremony for just us.”

Justin liked the idea and tried not to giggle at the two plastic rings Brian had in his hand. “Okay.”

“That’s it?” Brian asked exasperated. “Just okay?”

“Well, of course it’s a yes, Brian. But you have to promise that we’ll make it legal when we get out of here.”

“You have my word,” Brain vowed, kissing Justin soundly.

“And those rings?” Justin prompted.

“They’re from the cereal box. They are Freedom Rings, Justin. I thought that they’d be a symbol for us, not only of our love for one another but for the hope that one day we’ll be free of this place.” Brian felt his cheeks blushing and bowed his head. “I know we could order rings from a catalog and they’d probably bring them to us to appease us but I want these to be a reminder that we will be out there one day and when we are, we can pick out our own rings.”

Justin’s heart swelled and he fought off the tears that wanted to spill out of his eyes. “You are so romantic, Brian. When do you want to have our own private ceremony?”

Brian had thought about that already. “I was thinking, maybe once we have the babies and we’re able to make love again.”

“Sounds perfect,” Justin, whispered, bringing Brian toward him to share a deep kiss of promise.

 

***
 

Friday, July 10, 1998

Brian checked the ziti in the oven before closing the door and setting the timer for another ten minutes. “The cheese is almost browned on top,” he informed Justin.

Justin took one deep breath after the other, trying to figure out if what had happened a few minutes ago had actually happened. He looked at the painting he’d been working on and wiggled in his seat, feeling the wetness that confirmed it and dropped his paintbrush on the dining table. “Brian, my water broke.”

Justin had been in labor for most of the night before and all day, so Brian had been waiting for this to happen, but for some reason he still felt caught off guard. He stood completely still, they’d rehearsed everything, but he had suddenly forgotten it all.

Justin blew out a deep breath and instructed, “Go ahead and turn off the oven, Brian. I don’t think I can eat anything.”

Brian turned and shut off the oven. “Okay, now what?” he asked a bit desperately.

Justin refrained from laughing at Brian’s obvious panic. “Can you help me into the shower?”

“Oh, yes, yes, come on,” Brian said, reacting quickly. He walked over to Justin, helped him stand, and guided him into the bathroom. “Sorry, I freaked out there for a minute, won’t happen again.”

“No need to apologize,” Justin assured. “I’d been sitting there for about ten minutes before I told you. I was sorta freaking out too,” he laughed, hugging Brian close. “This is it.”

 

***
 

“Brian, you have to go eat,” Justin demanded.

“Just let me finish getting the bed set up,” Brian tried to compromise.

Justin placed his hand on Brian’s arm and shook his head firmly. “Please,” he begged, “I need you to leave me alone for a few minutes, okay?”

Brian sighed and tried not to get angry. “What if the baby comes while I’m eating?” he asked worriedly.

Justin looked up at Brian from the chair he was sitting in and did his best not to roll his eyes. “Brian, the baby is not going to come in just a few minutes. I’ve only dilated a little, you saw for yourself. It’s going to be awhile.”

“You’re sure?” Brian croaked, nervous as hell.

“Positive,” Justin assured, reaching up to place his hand on Brian’s stomach. “It might be hours and hours before I deliver. You have to take care of this baby too.”

Brian nodded reluctantly. “Okay, but if anything else happens you call me right away.”

“I will,” Justin promised. “And take Duchess with you and put her in the nursery. I don’t want her freaking out every time I get a contraction.”

Brian picked up Duchess off the bed and felt her hairs sticking up on her back. “Don’t worry, Duchess. Justin is going to be fine,” he said, walking out of the room. If he was saying that more for himself or for the cat, he couldn’t be sure.

Justin grabbed the chart lying on the table Brian had set up beside the bed. He took a pen and marked off all the things that happened and all the things they had set up and placed it back down on the table. Another contraction hit and Justin grabbed for the stopwatch to time it.

This contraction lasted longer and was stronger than any he’d had before. By the time he got over the pain of it he only had seven minutes before he felt another one rising. The chair he was sitting in was doing nothing to ease his pain, he quickly grabbed the footboard of the bed and squatted in front of it, swaying, and grunting as the pain reached its peak.

“Justin!” Brian shouted in alarm as he walked into the bedroom. “Are you okay?” he asked, crouching down beside his lover.

“Uhhuh,” Justin gasped out as the contraction dulled. “It just felt better… like this,” he explained.

Brian sighed in relief as he rubbed Justin’s back. “So, are you okay to stay there while I finish getting the bed ready?”

“Yes,” Justin breathed out. “I can….stay here…” His eyes closed as he felt a weird euphoria settle through his body. “Stop the watch,” he said, pointing to where it lay on the table.

Brian quickly did. “That one lasted for nine minutes?”

“When you came in here it was starting to end,” Justin explained. “So probably more like eight minutes.”

“Jesus,” Brian said fearfully. “How bad does it hurt?”

Justin managed a small laugh, there was no way he was going to tell Brian and risk scaring him about labor more than he was. “Did you eat?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I ate, I promise.” Brian went to work putting the plastic on the bed and setting up the video camera on the other side of the room. Once he was finished, he helped move Justin onto the bed and just in time because as soon as he’d crawled onto it another contraction took hold of him.

 

***
 

At the very end, as the baby crowned, Justin felt like he was going to pass out. There was so much pain relegated to the one spot of his body, which was split apart, and the rest of his body was caught between crosscurrents of pain and numbness because the pain was so strong his nerves couldn’t handle it. The whole time he tried to be strong, tried not to yell too much, show too much pain to Brian. At the end though, he couldn’t hold off his loud grunts and the scream that came as he pushed the baby’s shoulders out. The feeling had been too intense and agonizing to keep inside.

“Oh my god!” Brian repeated for the millionth time as he suctioned the mucus from the baby’s airway.

Justin felt boneless as he looked over at Brian as he cleaned off their baby. Tears streamed from his eyes as he heard the baby give a loud healthy cry. “What is it?” he asked hoarsely. Even though Brian had placed a mirror there so he could see, when it had gotten to be the most painful Justin had squeezed his eyes shut.

Brian felt so much pride as he answered, “It’s a girl. We have a daughter, Justin.”

“A girl,” Justin whispered, “Beatha.”

Brian smiled triumphantly at Justin as he put the wiggling slippery baby in the hammock of the scale and gently raised it off the bed. “Six pounds even,” he declared happily.

“Her length?” Justin asked, propping his back up on pillows so he could watch.

Brian used the tape measure and answered, “Seventeen inches.” He picked Beatha back up and held her close. “She’s so perfect. You did such a good job, Justin.”

“She’s small,” Justin said worriedly. “She’s small, Brian.”

“She’s small like you,” Brian said, carefully handing Justin their child. “But she’s healthy. I know she is.”

The emotions Justin felt as he first held Beatha against his skin was indescribable. He may have thought she was small, but she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “I love you, Beatha,” he said softly.

Hearing her father’s voice so close to her, Beatha calmed her cries and snuggled against Justin’s chest.

“I’m going to clean you up,” Brian said. “Then we can put a diaper on her and maybe you could try to feed her?” he suggested.

Justin nodded, unable to look away from his baby. “Thank you, Brian.”

Brian wasn’t sure what Justin was thanking him for, in his eyes, Justin had done it all. Justin was the strongest person Brain had ever known. He kissed Justin’s cheek and whispered, “I love you both.”

 

***
 

After showering and bringing both he and Justin the left over ziti to eat, Brian gathered Beatha from playpen they had lying beside the bed and placed her in Justin’s arms. “Maybe you can try again?” he suggested.

“She’s so calm when she’s awake,” Justin said in wonder. He brushed back a tiny dark curl from her forehead. “Maybe she’ll stay awake this time.”

Brian set pillows around Justin’s arms and settled in next to him. “The book says that you’ll know if she’s hungry. Do you know?”

Justin wasn’t sure if he knew or not. “I don’t know. I think she is.” He tried to get Beatha to nurse but the baby wasn’t having any of it.

“Maybe she’s just not hungry,” Brian suggested, rubbing along Beatha’s back.

Beatha let out a wail and buried her head closer to Justin’s chest while making sucking motions with her mouth.

“Or maybe she is and she doesn’t want me,” Justin said fearfully.

“Just try again,” Brian prompted. “Relax; remember that she feels what you feel.”

“Okay, okay,” Justin said, trying not to cry. His emotions were all over the place and he felt like was letting Beatha down because he was sure he was doing something wrong.

Brian gave Justin a reassuring smile and helped him adjust Beatha in his arms. He sighed in relief as the baby figured out what it was she was supposed to do. “There, you did it!” Brian congratulated. “She just wanted to lie differently.”

Justin grinned proudly. “I guess so.”

Brian felt his baby kicking inside of him and turned on his side. “Seems this one wants me to lie differently,” he said through a yawn.

Justin placed his free hand on top of Brian’s which rested on his stomach. “I have a family now,” he said in a whisper that could barely be heard. “I now have what I’ve wanted since they first brought me here, Brian.”

“And I have what I never even knew I needed,” Brian said, squeezing Justin’s hand in his own. He refused to let any dark thoughts or fears enter his brain. He didn’t know how long they’d allow for him, Justin, and the baby to be happy, he needed to focus and celebrate today. Justin had given birth to a healthy baby girl and for now, that’s all that mattered.
 

XXXXX

A Captivating Coupling

 
Chapter 13: Forgiveness and Never Forgetting

 

Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future ~ Boese

Thursday, August 6, 1998

“This is bullshit!” Craig yelled, jumping up from the sofa in Debbie’s living room. He advanced on Carl, his hands balled up at his sides, face red and body shaking, he demanded, “Find my son! They have my son!”

Ben stepped in the middle of Craig and Carl pushing the distraught father back. “Carl is trying.”

Craig moved away from the men and paced. “I just don’t fucking get it! Why isn’t the F.B.I. doing more? Justin should be back here with us!”

“Brian should be too!” Michael reminded the man, taking Ben’s hand in his own he raised it to his mouth and kissed it in thanks.

“Would everybody please just calm the fuck down?” Debbie asked her words wobbly from emotion. “These outbursts aren’t helping those boys!”

“Boys?” Craig laughed madly. “My little boy is with a man who makes a living writing sex-help books!”

“That isn’t all he writes,” Cynthia was quick to say.

“God knows what Brian’s teaching him!” Craig muttered to himself.

“Craig,” Jennifer pleaded, reaching her hand out to her estranged husband, “please sit down.”

“You want to call this whole thing off?” Craig asked.

“No!” Jennifer stood and put her hands on Craig’s shoulders while looking him in the eyes. “I just want you to calm down so we can hear exactly what Carl has to say.”

“Sure you do,” Craig said disbelievingly. He shook Jennifer off him and accused, “You took Molly away from me and now you’d be happy to stop here, take away the chance we have to get Justin back. You want to forget about your old life! That’s what you said when you said you left me! Isn’t it?”

“You know that I didn’t mean it like that,” Jennifer spoke in a hushed voice. “You didn’t even want anything to do with my pregnancy and once she was born you ignored her. I don’t want to forget Justin. I wanted to forget the pain of the past. Can’t you understand that?” she pleaded. “Don’t you see that for Molly, I couldn’t be stuck in the past? She isn’t a replacement, she’s another chance at happiness and I have to provide a happy environment for her. We didn’t have that at the house.”

“You purposely got pregnant to replace him,” Craig said breathlessly, consumed with his own guilt and pain. “You don’t love him anymore, do you?”

“How can you say that to me?” Jennifer demanded, but didn’t wait for an answer. “You know that isn’t true. Molly was a surprise, a gift. I want to find Justin! But my life cannot be consumed with finding him when I have a baby to care for. I love Justin as much as you do, don’t you dare ever say otherwise again!” Jennifer stood on her tiptoes and glared daggers at the man it hurt to love so much. “Justin would want me to make his little sister happy, to give her a good home and be a good mother to her. You are the one who fucked a college student for money because you had dreams bigger than our means! That wasn’t showing love for Justin and our family, Craig. That was…”

“Enough!” Michael yelled. “This isn’t about either one of you! This is about finding Brian and Justin. You need to let Carl continue what he was saying so we’re not wasting any more time.”

Craig nodded in understanding at Michael, let out a deep breath and backed away from Jennifer, her words slowly starting to get under his skin. If she would only understand why he was doing what he had to do, it would make it all so much easier on them both. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” he admitted, patting Michael on the shoulder.

“Me too,” Jennifer whispered in embarrassment. She looked at Carl and asked, “Please, please continue.”

“As I was saying,” Carl said sighing, “we know that the Marshalls have Brian and Justin but we have absolutely no proof. Everything we have is speculation and unless we want to risk incriminating Brian and Craig, we cannot use these notebooks as evidence.”

“When we brought them to you, you said that the D.A. wouldn’t even suggest it,” Cynthia reminded, confused. “That was the whole reason we gave them to you.”

“That was before I had reason to believe that the D.A. is involved with both Jim Stockwell and Peter Marshall.” Carl held the notebooks up and shook them. “If anyone sees these, even after we find Brian and Justin, you may still face criminal charges.”

“We did nothing criminal,” Craig insisted. “Nothing!”

“Technically you didn’t,” Carl said, “but I doubt Peter Marshall’s cousin, D.A. Jerry Gloss, will stick to technicalities if he decides to pursue charges against you both.”

The living room was completely silent as everyone processed the gravity of Carl’s words.

Debbie was the first to speak. “So they’re all dirty?”

Carl wrapped one arm around Debbie and kissed her hair. “I’m not. Besides me, I don’t know whom I can trust. We’re going to have to wait until the F.B.I. decides to do something about Stockwell, his supporters and this case. They are all powerful and dangerous people, we have to cool down if we’re going to be alive to find them.”

“So you’re saying we have to go on with our normal day-to-day lives as if nothing ever happened?” Craig couldn’t imagine it.

Carl gave the man an understanding look. “I don’t expect that extreme. In fact, if you suddenly stopped trying to find Justin it might be cause for alarm. Just keep at doing it the way you did before we ever found any of this out. Remember, we’re not even supposed to know one another.”

Craig nodded, hoping that no one had been watching them and vowing not to draw attention to the fact that they had new leads in finding Justin. He almost asked Carl if he could trust him, but the man’s caring, gentle eyes revealed the good inside him. Carl was a true, honorable detective. He was thankful to have the man on their side. Even if it felt like they were at a standstill, they’d come a lot closer to finding Justin than he ever had come on his own.

 

***
 

Hank kissed the baby in his arms and whispered, “Thank you for finally falling asleep.”

Across from him, Peter unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. “Put the brat down and suck me off.”

“I’m too tired to suck you off,” Hank whined, placing the sleeping baby on the sofa beside him. “My arms hurt, my legs hurt, and I need a break.”

Peter growled as he stood up from his recliner and walked in front of Hank. “I’ll help you,” he said, stroking himself. “All you have to do is open up.”

“You sound like me trying to give him his medicine tonight,” Hank said, referring to when he had to hold his son down so that he could administer the cough syrup.

“That’s what I’m trying to do for you,” Peter replied, pushing the tip of his cock against Hank’s lips.

Hank sighed in disgust and pushed Peter away from him. “I can’t believe you’d even want to do this in front of our child,” he whispered while gathering the baby into his arms. “You’re sick!”

Peter laughed but tucked himself back into his pants. “He’s asleep!”

“Which is where I’m going. I’ve had a long day taking care of a sick child! It’s not like you even tried to help me!” Hank stepped around Peter and started to walk toward the stairs.

Peter grabbed the back of Hank’s shirt as he tried to pass him, not caring that the motion jarred the little boy. “He’s always sick with something or another. But you asked for it, didn’t you? You could barely keep our daughter alive inside of you, what made you think you could keep him alive out here in the world, Hank?”

“How can you say that about our child?” Hank asked, trying to keep his voice low so that he wouldn’t wake up his son. “You loved him once.”

“I loved the idea of him!” Peter responded, grabbing the glass of vodka he’d been drinking and downed the rest. You are the one who wanted him, not me.”

Hank had known for some time that he’d made many, many horrible mistakes in his life, but the biggest had been marrying Peter and going along with every plan the man had made. He’d once wanted revenge, he wanted a child with the man he thought loved him, but now he and his son were living only a hair better than the people he had helped Peter abduct, the people whose lives he’d helped ruin.

Peter walked back over to Hank and rubbed a hand down his back and back up to his neck where he squeezed it painfully. “You better stop your complaining. You remember what happened the last time you pissed me off, don’t you? It was a year ago to the date, remember?”

Hank’s heart stopped beating for a few moments as his mind flickered with the images of Peter’s anger unleashed upon him. When his labor started, he’d thanked God that he was full-term that time and vowed that he would leave Peter once the child was born and he was able to walk again. But that hadn’t happened. Peter made more threats and Hank was desperate to find a way to leave, but he was afraid that he would never be able to get away alive.

“You should be thanking me for all I’ve done for you,” Peter went on, releasing his grip to run it down Hank’s back.

Now, with Peter’s obvious scorn of their son, he couldn’t count on Peter not killing the both of them if he tried to leave. The man was nothing like whom he’d fallen in love with years ago. Hank had always just thought that Peter’s demands and wicked intentions were more for show than anything. But after marrying him, he soon learned the truth. Peter Marshall was as ruthless and cruel as the devil himself. He had money, power and dozens of crooked, evil men ready to do as he asked.

Hank was a tool to be used to further Peter’s obsession and he always had been. Even if the depth of cruelty that Peter encompassed had just made itself aware to him, he also knew Peter unlike anyone else. He would have to use what Peter taught him to bring him down. Hank knew that there would never be any retribution for his part in the crimes, but he hoped that at the very least he would be able to show the baby in his arms, that he at least tried to give him a better life. A life he deserved to have.

Sighing deeply and allowing all of his pain to escape to the recesses of his heart and mind, Hank turned to Peter and kissed his cheek. “You’re right,” he spoke, “I should be thanking you. I’m just really tired and I think it’s messing with my thinking. How about you let me put him down and then you come wake me up in an hour. I’ll be all yours for the rest of the night?”

Peter smiled triumphantly and kissed Hank’s nose. “All right, Shorty. I’ll see you in an hour. I expect you to beg for forgiveness.”

“I will,” Hank assured. As he reached the top of the stairs and turned to go into the nursery he looked at the baby in his arms and spoke quietly, “I’ll be begging for forgiveness for the rest of my life.”

XXXXX

Moments in Captivity

Chapter 13: More Love
 

Children reinvent your world for you ~ S.S.

Wednesday, September 2, 1998

Brian’s hand squeezed the pen he held so tight that the plastic tube broke, breaking the silence in the room.

Justin’s head snapped toward the noise and he saw Brian staring off toward the front door, holding his breath and his face turning red. “Brian?” Justin whispered. He carefully rose from his seat, holding Beatha while she nursed and approached Brian. “Are you all right?”

Brian acknowledged Justin with a small nod before looking back at the door while letting out a long, deep breath. He closed his journal, which he hadn’t been able to concentrate on writing in and held his breath again.

“Are you having contractions?”

Brian shrugged and said in a tiny voice, “I think.”

Justin’s insides rearranged themselves and his mind buzzed with fear before he shook it off and took control of himself. “Will you be okay until I finish feeding Beatha and put her down for the night?”

“I’ll let you know if I’m not.”

Justin ran a hand through Brian’s hair and felt the sweat building up on his scalp. “You should go take a shower, maybe even a bath if you’re up for it.”

“I am.” Brian cleared his throat and forced a smile.

Justin kissed Brian’s lips, they were warm and dry and everything he ever imagined ‘his prince’s’ lips would feel like against his own. Now those lips belonged to the person who was about to give birth to his child. “I love you, Brian,” Justin whispered before walking down to the nursery.

 

***
 

“Why aren’t you pushing?” Justin asked worriedly, patting Brian’s face with a cool cloth. The man was dripping sweat so much that he was soaked just from sitting beside him.

Brian gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I don’t need to.”

Justin looked between Brian’s spread legs and then back up at the man’s face. “Yes, you do. Brian, if you’re afraid of the pain, it hurts… it does, badly but it’ll be okay. I promise you. You’ll look at our baby and all the pain will go aw…”

“It isn’t the pain!” Brian yelled before hiccupping in a breath. “It’s the time. It’s not the right time.”

“Brian, what are you talking about? This isn’t something we could’ve stopped. It’s not like…”

“Not the timing, the time. I have to wait!”

Justin looked at the clock and asked in an aggravated tone, “What do you have to wait for besides this contraction you aren’t using to its advantage.” Brian was really freaking him out and he’d been trying his best to take care of him but felt like he was miserably failing.

Brian grabbed Justin’s neck and turned his face sharply so that he could look him in the eyes. “I have to wait until after midnight.”

“You can’t!” Justin said, exasperated. “It’s only 4:00, Brian. Do you realize that midnight is eight hours from now?”

“I don’t care. I have to do it.”

“Why?” Justin demanded, feeling like crying. “You know you’re supposed to listen to your body. You need to push, I can tell, I can. I know you do.”

“I can hold off,” Brian growled, releasing Justin’s neck to flop back onto the bed.

“But the baby can’t!” Justin yelled in fear. “You crowned four contractions ago, Brian. You have to push. You aren’t necessarily supposed to be in labor for twelve hours or more,” Justin assured. He wondered if the books he’d read had scared him out of such a quick labor. “It is okay to have the baby in just a few hours, too.”

“No it’s not.” Brian closed his eyes and felt like he couldn’t breathe as another contraction forced him to tense his body even more.

“Yes, it is.” Justin grabbed one of Brian’s hands and brushed his fingers down his cheek with his other hand. “Listen to me, Brian. You can do this. You have to. The baby wants to be born now, that is what is healthy.”

Brian opened his eyes and tears slid down his face the moment he did. “You don’t…. get it…” he breathed unevenly. “I can’t have the baby today. I have to wait; I have to wait until tomorrow.”

Justin felt like a knife stabbed him in his heart and pinned it into his stomach. “Oh god, Brian.” He kissed along Brian’s cheek and wept, “We’ll give the baby tomorrow’s date if you want, or yesterday’s date, or any other fucking date you want, Brian. No one will know but us. Just please push our baby out.”

Brian gulped in a deep breath and as the next contraction came on, he listened to his body and allowed himself to begin pushing the baby out.

 

***
 

Justin proudly smiled at Brian as he held both Bevyn and Beatha. “They’re exactly fifty-four days apart.”

Brian laughed. “If the due date we calculated for me was right, he shouldn’t have been here for another fifteen days. But I’m happy he is here.”

“Me too,” Justin said, his voice cracking as he imagined what it’d be like to have their first-born son with them.

Brian looked up at Justin who stood beside the bed, looking down on him and his children in complete awe, but also he saw the sadness, the longing. “He’s here with us,” Brian said, “I can feel him.”

Justin nodded and gulped down a deep breath before changing the subject. “They look like twins.”

“They practically are,” Brian joked. “They’re the same length and nearly the same weight.”

“I know it says all babies are different, Brian. But do you really think it’s okay that Beatha is two ounces less than Bevyn?” Justin sat down beside Brian, his brow creased from worry. “What if there’s something wrong with her? Maybe it’s my milk? Maybe I shouldn’t be…”

“Justin, stop,” Brian warned but gave Justin a smile. “You’re over-thinking this. Beatha eats fine. She’s healthy because you eat healthy. She’s chubby, content and beautiful.”

“They’re both beautiful,” Justin said, banishing his worries for the moment. “I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love Beatha but then here Bevyn is and that same strong love I have for Beatha is there for him.”

“I know what you mean,” Brian said and laughed, “which is totally weird.”

Justin playfully stuck out his tongue. “Just you wait until you’re up and moving around. I’ll make you pay for that remark.”

Brian snorted. “Well in the meantime, how about you come over here and kiss me. That’ll work wonders on me shu…”

Justin sucked Brian’s breath into his own mouth as he pushed his tongue against Brian’s dominantly before slowing the glide to a gentle caress. He pulled away and offered, “Can I take Bevyn and give him his first diaper change?”

“Be my guest,” Brian replied, “be my guest.”

Justin took the small baby over to the changing table and looked him over from head to toe as he put a new diaper on him and put Vaseline around his belly button.

Bevyn stirred from sleep as Justin closed the last button on his yellow sleeper. He blinked up at his father with coal-blue eyes, the lamplight irritating him, but he was determined to look at the face above him.

Justin felt such love for Bevyn as he brought the curious baby into his arms and held him against his chest. “Hello, son,” he whispered, kissing his wrinkly forehead. “Happy Birthday.”
 

XXXXX

A Captivating Coupling

Chapter Fourteen: Wounded
 

Anger is a wound gone mad ~ Vanna Bonta

Saturday, April 10, 1999

“We believe that they’re being held at one of Marshall’s properties in or around Bearden, Arkansas.” Carl placed a piece of paper that listed the possible addresses onto the coffee table. “The population of the town he resides in may be small, but the rural area outside of it is vast. The two furthest properties are almost three hours from one another.”

“What does that matter?” Cynthia asked.

“Other than his estate on the outskirts of Bearden and Marshall’s Grocery on the square, they cannot set up surveillance.”

“Why not?” Craig asked. “They know that Justin and Brian are in one of those places so why aren’t they covering all of them?”

“The other places Marshall owns are surrounded by dense forests and twelve foot tall privacy fences,” Carl explained. “There are cameras and guards at every property so they have to be very careful if they don’t want to tip Marshall off.”

“Why can’t the F.B.I. just raid the places all at once?” Debbie asked.

“That way they’d be sure to find them,” Michael added.

“But if they aren’t at any of those places and Marshall has them someone else, then they’ll be tipped off and might move them. Not only that, but we know that Peter is connected to Stockwell and many other politicians and officials in Pittsburgh. If they knew we were working together and with the F.B.I. you be damned sure they’d try and put a stop to it whatever way they could.”

“So what is the F.B.I. going to do to find out where they are?” Jennifer asked.

“They’re working with the local Police Chief, Lyle Anderson. Once they formulate a concrete plan, Agent Holden, the lead investigator on the case will contact me and we will discuss where we go from there.”

“More waiting,” Ted groaned mentally counting the days Brian had been missing, “great.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like the F.B.I. is doing anything but I assure you that they are. I am grateful that I was able to contact Agent Holden and convince him to work with me. It’s been slow-going, I realize that, but we have to do as the F.B.I. asks and trust that they’ll find them.”

 

***
 

Sunday, April 11, 1999

Craig looked out the front door peephole and sighed deeply, his expelled breath a mix of frustration and longing. He forced his body to stand straighter and put a false smile on his face as he opened the door. “Jennifer.”

“Good morning to you too, Craig,” Jennifer spoke sarcastically. She placed one of her hands on her hip and gave him an impatient look. “Are you going to invite me in?”

It was easier to be in the home since Jennifer had left him. He didn’t constantly find her in rooms throughout the house, doing some task that used to involve their son. He could yell and be as angry as he wanted to be and there would be no one to ask him to explain himself, to feel pity or anger toward him. Craig didn’t have to live every day worried that the kidnappers would come back for his wife and leave him alone. He’d been the one to force Jennifer out of their house and leave him alone.

“You’re always welcome here,” Craig said softly, his true feelings for his wife over-powering the fear he felt.

Jennifer snorted in disbelief and walked past Craig, through the large foyer and into the formal living room. She looked around the sparsely furnished room and shook her head, her heart dropping into her stomach for a moment. “Why haven’t you gotten new furniture?” she asked, once Craig stepped into the room behind her.

Craig wanted to tell Jennifer that he wasn’t going to waste his time replacing the furniture when he hoped that one day she’d move back and bring the furniture she’d taken to the apartment. He suspected that she already knew, but there was no way he could reveal to her something so pathetically hopeful. “It’s only me here,” he told her a nearly believable answer while pointing to a small recliner.

Jennifer nodded, accepting his answer, though just because it was a possible truth, she knew that it wasn’t. She ran her hand along the Baby Grand Piano’s top, her fingers collecting dust and leaving a shiny black trail of prints. “You need to tell Liza this needs polished next time she comes.”

“I let her go,” Craig revealed.

“But I thought you trusted her!” Craig had gone through long rigorous interviews for housekeeping staff and couldn’t believe that after years of employing her, he’d let Liza go.”

“I didn’t need her,” Craig explained, “but I kept the gardeners.”

“Well thanks for letting me know.” She had grown to be friends with Liza and had almost asked her to go with her when she’d left, but she didn’t want to put her in the position of choosing whom she was going to work. “I hope you didn’t just suddenly fire her.”

Craig shook his head. “Of course not. I let her know that she should find another job and that once she secured the job we’d part ways. Now, what did you come here for, surely it wasn’t to criticize my lack of furniture and housekeeper?”

Jennifer sat on the piano bench and gestured for Craig to sit in his recliner. Once he did, she began to explain, “We need to discuss what we’re going to do when Justin comes home.”

Craig ran his hands through his hair and counted to five, refraining himself from yelling at Jennifer. “What we’re going to do?” he asked. “Do you really think we’ll be able to follow a plan of any kind when he comes home?” Craig wasn’t sure why Jennifer’s simple, rightful questions angered him so much, but they did.

Jennifer straightened her posture and tried to appear unaffected by Craig’s outburst. “Well I’m guessing that you’ll want him to come and live here… with you.”

“That isn’t a guess,” Craig replied. “You know that is what will happen.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes, though she did nod her head in agreement. “Justin will need to be someplace familiar. But Molly and I will be living here too it’s just that I… I don’t want Justin to know about our split.”

“He’s an adult now, Jen. He may want to live on his own.”

“He’s only 17 now, he’s not an adult. I doubt that after seven years without his family he’s going to want to live on his own.”

Craig thought about that and a grim reality passed through him. “We don’t even know his condition yet. He might be malnourished, or….” he let the rest of his sentence hang in the air for a moment. “Justin may not want to live with us and we’ll have to prepare ourselves for that. I’ve dreamed of him running into my arms, but I also know that it may not happen. He may not want to have anything to do with me.”

“He may not because of what you have done.”

Craig shook his head. “Do you really think that what I did was just cause for these psychos to do what they’ve done to him and Brian? Do you really Jen? Really?”

“No,” Jennifer admitted. “I… don’t. But there’s a good chance that when Justin finds out what happened he may not want to be around you.”

“I’ve come to that conclusion myself, but he may not want to be around either one of us. He may not even remember us. We have no idea what they’ve done to him.”

Jennifer shivered and dropped her head in her hands. “They said they’d keep him safe,” she whispered.

“And we’ve been hoping that it’s true. But he may not resemble anything of the little boy we love.” Craig stood from his recliner and crossed over toward Jennifer. He knelt before her and put a comforting hand on her leg. “It won’t matter who he is when he comes back, Jennifer. We’ll love him no matter who he is and we’ll be at peace for the first time in almost eight years just because we’ll really know that he’s safe.”

Jennifer looked up at Craig, leaned forward and wrapper her arms around his neck. She hugged him tightly and cried against his shoulder, “He’ll be home soon. Right? He’ll be home soon?”

Craig squeezed Jennifer back, taking a step outside of his guilt, grief and fear and accepted the comfort and love she gave him. “Yes, he’ll be home soon.”

XXXXX

Moments in Captivity

Chapter 14: Keep Hoping
 

In all things it is better to hope than to despair ~ von Goethe

Sunday, April 11, 1999

“Justin, look she’s going!”

I turn quickly and see Beatha is on her hands and knees, quickly crawling toward Duchess. “Oh my god!”

“Get the kitty,” Brian encourages from behind the video camera.

Duchess makes a run for it down the hallway; Beatha stops, looks up at me and starts whimpering. “Don’t cry, big girl.” I bend down slowly and pick her up. “You almost caught her.”

Brian shuts off the camera and places it on the bar top. “You did so good,” he tells Beatha. “And you made sure Dada had his camera out and ready to get it on film, didn’t you?”

Beatha starts babbling gibberish and I think she might have said ‘Da’ somewhere in there, but it was most likely an accident. She absolutely loves when Brian talks to her, he can be saying anything at all and to Beatha, it’s the funniest thing in the world. She starts wiggling around in my arms, babbling right back at Brian.

“Bah Waa!” Bevyn yells from the playpen.

“Oh you want in on the conversation too?” I ask, walking toward his playpen.

“Wait, wait, wait. I’ll get him,” Brian says, stopping me. “You can’t be carrying them both around anymore. It’s not good for you. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m okay,” I assure, walking into the kitchen. “You ready to eat?” I ask Beatha.

Beatha immediately starts smacking her lips as I place her into her highchair.

“What’s on the menu?” Brian asks, placing Bevyn in his highchair beside Beatha.

I grab the two bowls from the microwave I was in the middle of heating up when Brian brought my attention to Beatha crawling. “It’s oatmeal mixed with peas and turkey.”

“Sounds delicious,” Brian jokes.

The babies start babbling to one another, probably talking about how they wish we’d hurry up with the feeding.

It actually smells good, but it tastes horrible. “Well they certainly think so.” I place the two bowls on the bar and grab a dining chair.

“Let me feed them today,” Brian says in a stern tone while putting bibs on the babies.

“Brian, it was just a little shortness of breath. It’s perfectly normal at this stage in pregnancy. I can sit down and feed my kids.”

Brian kisses my forehead. “I know, but so can I.”

“But you already took care of breakfast.”

“And you’re taking care of our baby,” he whispers, placing his hand on my belly. “Get yourself something to eat and go relax in the bedroom.”

How can I say no to him when he looks at me the way he is now? “Okay,” I relent, standing on my tiptoes to give him an appreciative deep kiss.

 

***
 

After finishing my lunch, I decide to get out Beatha and Bevyn’s baby books and update them on their progress. Finally, they are nearly the same in terms of development and it brings me so much peace to be able to mark down the Beatha can finally crawl just as her younger brother has been doing for the last two weeks.

I’ve been so scared that Beatha wasn’t growing properly. She has been behind on meeting all of her milestones. Bevyn only weighs one pound less than she does and he’s much more active and talkative than she is. Until today, I was worried that there might be something wrong with her motor skills. I know he crawled early, but Beatha is nearly two months older and according to all the baby books, she should have been doing all the things Bevyn has been doing, first.

I’m terrified that living here like this has restricted their growth. I know that it has damaged me. I had seen and felt the sun, breathed fresh air and knew what it was like to leave my house and experience the world. If we ever leave here, it’ll be a shock to Brian, and me but it’ll be even worse for babies. Now that I am pregnant with another baby who we are estimating is due in mid-July, it makes the need of being rescued even greater. I no longer have to imagine what my children will be missing, I’ve now seen it first hand and I it breaks my heart. I want so much more for them, yet at the same time, I’m petrified of what the world outside of here is like.

Speaking of the outside world, my ears immediately tune into the sound of the outer door opening. I stupidly wait for a moment, wait and hope that a policeman, an F.B.I. agent or my father and mother will come through the door. A few moments pass and no one has come through our door and no one’s voice calls out to me. I hear the metal door close, hear locks click and another minute later I hear our door open.

“Justin, there’s a letter!” Even though I was listening, Brian’s voice startles me. Or maybe, it’s Brian’s words, because I know that letters from them, are never good.

 

***
 

“It could mean that they’re taking us home,” Brian suggests, hopeful where I am not.

I can’t show him that I don’t think he’s right, if I do, he’ll think I’ve given up hope of ever being rescued. I haven’t, but after years of hoping that ‘today will be the day’, I am hesitant to believe they’ll just let us go. I can tell there is a part of Brian that believes this too, but he wants me to join him in his positive perspective, so I must try to.

“We only have six weeks to pack.” Brian stretches out on our bed, the letter in his hand. He keeps re-reading it as if it’ll help him find some clue as to where exactly we’ll be going.

“Well at least it says that they will be moving the beds, tables and chairs themselves,” I say, crawling into bed beside him. “I think we can manage the other stuff rather quickly.”

“I don’t want you to have to run around this house though. I heard you get short of breath when you were feeding Duchess this morning.”

“I won’t over-work myself, I promise.” There’s no way I’m leaving Brian to pack everything.

“Do you think kitchen items include the new microwave we got last month?”

“I’m sure they’ll get it.”

“Well I think I’m going to make a list of all the things they need to be sure come with us.”

I slide closer to Brian and take the papers out of his hands. “We can worry about this later,” I say, rocking my crotch against his thigh. “Both babies are taking a nap at once and I really think we should take advantage of that.”

Brian’s eyes turn from worried to mischievous in a second flat. “You do?”

I throw the paper onto to the floor and kiss his shoulder. “Get me a condom.”

My stomach is nowhere near as big as I was when I was 26 weeks along with Beatha, but I’m more uncomfortable inside. The only way Brian and I can comfortably have sex is if I’m making love to him. He doesn’t seem to mind, but I do miss having him inside of me. I hate not being able to take advantage of having sex without a condom. If we were out there, he’d be able to be on birth control again. This is just another choice they have taken from us.

I knew I was pregnant this time right away. The first time Brian made love to me after Beatha and Bevyn were born; I swear that the next morning I knew I was going to have his baby again. I was due to go through my HOC only a few days after that, and when I didn’t, it confirmed it to me. I ordered an AccuHome test that could detect very low HCG levels and within two weeks, my predictions were correct. Brian and I were both thrilled and even though I had conflicting thoughts about raising another child here, the need to have a baby on my own terms trumped everything else.

I know that doctors recommend waiting longer in between pregnancies. Someone else determined both of my other pregnancies forcing it upon me and Brian’s pregnancy was a scary, possibly life-and-death accident. Before they could send us condoms and demand that I wear them, which they did once they realized I was pregnant, I wanted to Brian to get me pregnant for our reasons alone. I know the logic in this is probably a bit selfish and silly but I don’t regret the decision. I’m happy and Brian is happy that we’re going to have another baby and I could care less what ‘they’ think of it.

Brian slides the condom on my dick, slathers it in lube and rolls onto his arms and knees. “Stop thinking and fuck me,” he teases, swaying his ass back and forth.

I line my cock up to Brian’s hole, push inside and all thoughts that aren’t about here, with me inside Brian at this moment, leave me mind.
 

XXXXX

A Captivating Coupling

Chapter Fifteen: Mending

 

Forgiveness is the needle that knows how to mend ~ Jewel

Saturday, April 14, 1999

Jennifer ushered Craig inside her apartment. “What’s all that?”

Craig looked around the room, hoping to spot Molly somewhere. “I brought Molly some gifts.”

Jennifer looked at her husband worriedly. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t get to see her open the ones she got for her birthday,” Craig replied.

Jennifer huffed. “I did invite you.”

Craig nodded and felt a painful ache inside of him grow. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Jennifer took pity on him. “She was only one, so she couldn’t really open them anyway.”

“Did she sleep through her whole party?” Craig implored. Justin had slept through his first birthday party.

Jennifer gave Craig a warm understanding smile. “Only half of it. She waited to dig into the cake first. Besides, it wasn’t much of a party, just my parents, sister and her family.”

“I wish I could’ve been here.” Craig looked around the living room. “Where is she?”

“In her room, napping.”

“Oh,” Craig’s face fell. “Well I guess I’ll just leave this stuff here and you can tell her it was from me.”

“When you called to say you’d be stopping by I thought you had news on Justin.”

“I don’t. I mean nothing you haven’t already heard.”

Jennifer stopped Craig from turning back toward the door. “Have you had lunch?”

“N…n…no, I haven’t.”

“Well I’m making egg salad sandwiches.”

“My favorite?”

“Well you did call to say you were coming.”

Craig wasn’t sure he could fall in love again with a woman he’d loved for half of his life, but he did that moment. “I’d love to stay.”

“Good, maybe then you could help me in the bathroom. Our toilet is doing that weird draining thing that happened in the guest bath at our house.”

Craig nodded, recalling the problem. He smiled as the words ‘our house’ clicked in his brain. “Yeah, I’ll take a look.”

Jennifer walked into the kitchen, looking over her shoulder she saw Craig following her, his eyes warm and appreciative like she hadn’t seen in years.

 

***
 

Craig flushed the toilet and watched as the blue water swirled around the bowl before it went down the drain. “It’s fine now. Just be careful of those tablets. If you put another one in while there’s still some left of the other one it’ll clog the valve.”

“I’ll remember that,” Jennifer promised. “Thanks for fixing it.”

“Anytime. Do you have anything else you need help with?”

“Mama! Mama!” Molly’s voice called over the baby monitor.

“I’ll make you a list,” Jennifer joked. “Come on, you can change Molly.”

Craig didn’t mind a list but he wasn’t too fond of changing diapers. His fingers were just too clumsy to ever get the tabs right. However, he had yet to change one of Molly’s diapers so he figured he owed Jennifer at least one diaper change, not to mention a million other things.

 

***
 

“You didn’t tell me she could walk so well,” Craig said, astonished. His wide-eyes remained fixed on his daughter as she ran from one toy box to the other.

“She just started being steady on her feet this week.” Jennifer laughed as Molly chose that moment to fall on her butt.

“Do you think she knows that I’m her dad?” Craig wondered in a sad tone.

“There’s more to being a dad than just providing the sperm.” Jennifer couldn’t help but speak this truth. Even though she and Craig had been getting along, she couldn’t allow him to just waltz in and declare himself Molly’s dad when he hadn’t done anything in over a year to show that he was her father.

Craig took the statement for what it was: the absolute truth. “Then I guess I should get started on the ‘more’ that it takes,” he replied.

Jennifer watched in surprise as Craig dropped to his knees, crawled over to Molly, and picked up a doll. She smiled to herself as he began to talk as if he were the doll and Molly started babbling back to him, all smiles. It wasn’t everything Molly needed from her father, but it was a start.
 

XXXXX

Moments in Captivity

Chapter 15: Moving Day

 

“Each time we face our fear, we gain strength, courage, and confidence in the doing.”

Sunday, May 3, 1999

A second note of instructions came a few days after the first, telling us that the apartment would be cleared out on that coming Friday. Justin and I were to box up any immediate-need items or things we wanted to keep with us and place those containers in our bedroom. We have one container for personal items Justin and I want to keep like the camera, camcorder, video tapes, books and journals. Justin and I managed to put all of the clothes we wanted to keep in one. We have one for personal care products, which includes everything we’d need if Justin were to go into labor, just as a precaution even though he isn’t due yet. There are three containers for all the baby stuff filled with baby food, clothes, toys and blankets.

As instructed, Justin and I went into our bedroom with the babies and closed the door as soon as we heard them coming. It took two hours for them to get everything out and Justin and I were too scared to confront the guards to use the restroom even though he had to go. When we emerged from our bedroom, the place was barren. They’d taken everything and did it so quick that we know that there had to have been dozens of people helping. They took everything out of every closet, cabinet and room. It was good that Justin and I thought to keep some food and dishes in our bedroom or we’d have nothing to eat since Friday. We’ve been surviving on dry cereal, canned fruit, nuts, granola bars and water.

Beatha and Bevyn usually sleep about ten hours a night, waking once for a 2 a.m. feeding and sleeping until around eight in the morning. The last couple of days they have been waking up at six. They have been sleeping together in the pack and play we’ve placed beside our bed so we figure that one of them probably rolls onto the other and they wake each other up. That and the small pad in the bottom of the playpen can’t compare to how comfortable their crib mattresses are. Justin and I haven’t been sleeping much at all. Every hour or so one of us is waking up from nightmares or we just can’t get to sleep at all. We’re completely exhausted, which is the last thing Justin needs to be right now. I have no idea what’s going to happen today, but I suppose that in less than fifteen minutes we’re going to find that out.

“Did you hear that?” Justin whispers, tugging on my shirt sleeve.

I look out our bedroom door and still my breathing to see if I can hear what he thinks he heard. For the last hour, he’s been asking me that, but I never hear anything. He’s terrified of the unknown. I know what he went through the first days he was here alone so I know he’s afraid it will all happen again. I’m scared about what will happen to us to, but I’m petrified for Justin and our unborn baby’s safety. His blood pressure has skyrocketed the last two weeks and his stress level is off the charts. No calming words, hot bath or massage has helped him. I realize that I can’t show how nervous and worried I am or he will react to my feelings and be more strained than he is now.

“There it is again,” Justin insists, snuggling up with Duchess.

“It’s nothing,” I tell him after a minute. “Relax.”

Justin winces and rings his hands. “I can’t.”

“I know.” I pull him to sit beside me and feel my own stomach turn with nausea. “At least Beatha and Bevyn are asleep. Maybe they’ll sleep through all of it.”

“Maybe.” Justin runs his thumb over each of their cheeks; they don’t even stir at his touch.

Everything about fatherhood seems instinctual for him; he’s so gentle and patient. Sometimes I look at him while he’s with our children and I don’t see Justin I met. Then there are times when he’s so childlike that it leaves me to worry about his behavior for hours. If we are to go home, I wonder how Justin will act when we go home. Will he want to be a father and husband or will he want to recapture his lost youth?

“What?” Justin tilts my chin up so I can look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about something bad, I can tell.”

“They’ve never been in car seats. Do you think they’ll be okay in them for the drive?” I can’t tell him the truth.

“Of course. They sit in their bouncy seats and in their swings. This will just be a little different.”

It’s so weird to think that our children are so old and this is the first time they’ve been in car seats. We weren’t exactly sure we’d be going somewhere in a vehicle until they showed up a little while after the second note came. “Did any of those books you read ever say anything about babies getting car sick?” I ask.

Justin shakes his head and manages a small laugh. “People take their babies home from the hospital in the car all the time.”

“True.” I stop myself from reminding him that parents drive their children probably no more than an hour home from the hospital. We have no idea how long we’re going to be in the vehicle. We don’t even know if they’ll allow us to be with one another or Beatha and Bevyn.

“Give Duchess a kiss, I’m going to put her in the carrier now,” Justin tells me.

I put my face against Duchess and she purrs against me for a moment. “Be good, kitty.”

Duchess yawns and thankfully, she makes no fuss as Justin places her inside the carrier. The cat is so smart I’m sure she knows that Justin and I are so stressed out the last thing we need is her freaking out too.

“Did you hear that?” Justin asks, his words quivering. He shuts the cage door and scrambles over to me.

This time I did. “Yes,” I say. “Quick, put their blankets over the bar, I don’t want them waking up and the first thing they see are masked men.”

“Okay,” Justin whispers. He covers Bevyn’s purple blanket on top of the car seat bar, draping it over him while I do the same with Beatha’s red blanket.

“It’s going to be okay,” I tell Justin, moving to stand in front of him and the babies. I kiss his lips as we hear the front door swing open and loud voices booming around the empty space. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Justin says, barely holding himself back from crying. He grabs my hand tight and circles his arm around my waist, resting his shaking body against my back.

 

***
 

As instructed, Brian and Justin followed the masked guards down the hallway. There were six of them. Two stood in front of Brian, one in between Brian and Justin and three behind Justin. They all wore matching black pants, shirts, gloves, face masks and dark sunglasses so that the only difference between them was their height, build and small white badges sewn onto their shoulders, each having different numbers.

“Do not move.” The largest, Guard 12, growled, aiming his pistol at Brian.

Brian tried to remain as still as possible, looking down at the baby carrier and away from the men with the guns.

Guard 12 pointed down the hallway. “34 and 41, go retrieve the cat and their boxes and load them up.”

The two last guards behind Justin shouldered their machine guns and followed orders.

“In the corner,” Guard 12 barked. “Away from the door and face the wall.”

Justin quickly turned and followed the guard that had been behind him, over to the corner of the living room. Beatha’s seat was beginning to feel too heavy to carry but the last thing he wanted to do was let her go. He tried to look over at Brian, but the guard behind shoved the head of the gun into his back when he turned his head, warning him to stop his movements.

It felt like hours for Brian and Justin as they waited for their next instructions. They heard shuffling around, the doors opening and closing, as the guards removed the containers from the apartment.

“Okay. Line back up, over here in front of the door. I’m going to explain the rules. Look at me!”

Justin and Brian’s heads both snapped up.

“You will not make any sudden or quick movements. If your child starts to cry on the walk down, ignore it. You will stay in a single file line and listen carefully to all orders. If you disobey orders I will shoot you. Do you understand?”

Brian and Justin both nodded firmly.

“Good.” 12 opened the front door and then opened the outside door. “97, 25, take the children.”

“No…no…please!” Justin cried out. “D…don’t take them,” he begged, moving Beatha’s carrier as close to his body as he could.

“We can handle carrying them,” Brian pleaded

82, the guard in front of Justin turned to him and placed his pistol on Justin’s stomach. “Shut your fucking mouths, the both of you!” he screamed.

“Okay, okay,” Justin said, his whole body shaking in fear.

"Not so loud or you'll wake them," Brian begged.

“Take the gun away from his stomach, 82,” 25 said in a stern voice. The guard placed a hand on Justin’s back for a quick moment before the other guard removed the pistol from his belly. “I’ll take the baby. We’ll only have them for the walk down.”

Guard 97 who stood in front of Brian grabbed the carrier holding Bevyn away from Brian. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your brat back.”

Guard 34 came back through the door. “82, you’re needed at post D, 16 your position is at post G,” he informed before leaving.

12 took two pieces of cloth out of his pocket. “Do not fight me while I blindfold you, or I will shoot you,” he warned, closing in on Brian.

Brian stood perfectly still and closed his eyes. The guard roughly tied the black strip of fabric around his head. He heard the quick tying movements a few seconds later, indicating that they’d done the same to Justin. He relaxed as he felt Justin’s hand slip into his, comforting them both.

“You will be led out of here, listen to the instructions carefully so you do not get hurt.”

A guard took his elbow and positioned him in front of Brian. He then felt a leather-gloved hand grasp his own and pull him forward. He held tight to Brian’s hand and slowly navigated his footsteps to match that of the guard in front of him.

Brian and Justin walked slowly and carefully through what felt like a very long hallway. The shuffling of their footsteps and every word the guards spoke echoed around them. It took all the courage they both had to hold themselves together during the long walk. Many times Justin felt the baby inside of him actively move around in response to his rapidly beating heart and the stress Justin was sure the baby could feel.

“Stop!” Guard 12’s voice boomed.

Brian and Justin both froze their movements. The sound of a large door sliding open pierced their ears and a wave of a cool breeze brushed against their bodies. Brian shuffled closer to Justin and put his free arm around him. They stood together, luxuriating in the fresh air as the guards moved around them, preparing for their departure.

The taste, feel and love of having real air on their skin and in their lungs brought Brian and Justin to tears. It was May, they new that, but the air felt like a cool breeze to them. It floated around their bodies as the guards told them to move forward again. They sucked in as much air into their bodies as they could, making their breaths sound ragged and tired to their own ears.

“Step down,” 25 spoke, halting Justin. He took Justin’s arm to give him support. “There are two steps.”

Justin whimpered as his nostrils filled with a new smell and he heard a sound he hadn’t heard since he was a child. As he took his second step, his sneaker hit a small puddle of water and the splash was music to his ears. “It’s raining,” he gasped.

“Just a small drizzle,” 25 spoke softly. “The sun’s coming out.”

As the guard said it, leading Justin and Brian with him, they both suddenly felt the heat. The sun’s warmth felt amazing to their skin and they cried at the contact of tiny raindrops hitting their skin.

“Justin,” Brian spoke his lover’s name a breath of wonder. They were outside. They were breathing fresh air for the first time. The black cloth blindfolds were not thick enough to leave out the bright light and both strips were equally soaked from their tears.

“Stay quiet, fucker,” the guard behind Brian ordered. “Keep walking.”

Guard 25 squeezed Justin’s hand in his own. He knew he’d be going to hell for the part he was playing in the ruin of Justin’s life. Blackmail was the only excuse he had for doing what he was. Though he knew there was not much to justify it. He had to choose between seeing his own family murdered and ruining a boy’s life and he chose his family. He was one of many guards that were working as a means to keep their family alive. A few guards liked their jobs and took a sick pleasure in them. But he was definitely not one of them. He wished every day that he could do something to help them but he knew that the people he worked for had too many connections and they were too powerful to fight. “Stop,” he said and walked over to place the baby carrier beside the other.

“Where...where are my babies?” Justin asked the man as he felt him return to his place in front of him. He needed to be reassured of their safety.

Brian gulped and waited for the answer, cautiously walking behind Justin.

“We’ve placed them beside one another about a foot away from us. They are still sleeping in their seats,” Guard 25 answered quietly.

"Do...do they have their blankets draped over their car seats still?” Justin’s voice cracked as he asked the question.

“No,” 25 answered. “I can see their faces.”

“So…they can feel the air in their lungs? They can feel the sun on their faces?" He sobbed.

“Yes, they can,” 25 replied, his heart aching for Justin.

“Oh, Justin,” Brian broke down, squeezing Justin’s hand. “I wish I could see them.”

“Me too,” Justin rasped.

The sound of an ignition starting roared into Brian and Justin’s ears. A moment later, the vehicle stirred gassy fumes into the air. The smell, even though it was foul, was one both Brian and Justin reveled in smelling.

“They’re placing your children in the van now,” 25, informed.

“All right, get them loaded in too,” 12 ordered before hopping into the driver’s seat.

Justin dropped Brian's hand as 25 cautiously led him up two small steps into the van. He was maneuvered into his seat and then the guard sat beside him.

“Your little boy is beside you,” 25 informed in a whisper. “The little girl will be beside Brian.”

“Thank you,” Justin said softly. His hand immediately felt for the carrier and his fingers gently crept inside where he touched his warm baby boy's leg and then moved it up to grasp his small hand. “What about my cat?”

“It’s in the back, it’s safe,” 25 answered.

Justin’s nose cued into the smell of his cat and he faintly heard her meow.

Brian got into the van the same way. He could smell Justin's scent and knew he was in the seat in front of him. He could also hear Duchess’ purring somewhere behind him.

Guard 82’s sadistic voice spoke beside Brian. “Your brat’s beside you.”

Brian quelled his anger at the bastard and reached out to find Beatha’s hand. He felt shuffling behind him, heard hushed grunts, and figured more guards were sitting behind him. A moment later, he heard doors slam shut and the vehicle jerked as it pulled away.
 

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