Justin's POV
In the middle of the night, somehow sensing that Brian was no longer in bed with me, I awoke. Still sleepy, I rubbed my eyes and yawned as I looked around the loft. Finally, I saw him. Brian was sitting on the couch in his royal blue silk robe smoking and staring at the easel, which now held my half-finished painting. My entire body tensed up. How had he happened to find it? In my haste to prepare for his arrival earlier that day, had I left the top of the crate off?
I quickly crawled out of bed and slipped a pair of royal blue silk pajama bottoms on (they were Brian's; Lindsay had bought him pajamas to match his robe last Christmas). The only illumination was moonlight streaming in through the windows. Daphne was sound asleep on her cot, snoring softly. I approached Brian slowly, hesitantly. I was terribly anxious, unsure how he would respond to the painting. Part of me wanted to rip it off the easel. But he'd already seen it. The damage was already done. When Brian caught sight of me, he patted his lap. He whispered, "Come sit, Angel."
I was so relieved that he wasn't angry that I almost jumped into his lap. Then I began to nuzzle his neck. God, he smelled so good, and he was so warm! I wanted to stay in that exact position forever. He slipped his arms around my waist and leaned his head against mine.
Unexpectedly, he suggested, "You should finish it."
I looked up at him in surprise, my eyes wide. "You want me to?"
"Why wouldn't I? In it, you've captured so much. It's brilliant."
I hesitated for a moment, but then asked nervously, "It doesn't bother you?"
Brian shook his head. In a husky voice, he declared, "It's real. Just like everything you paint, even the abstract stuff. That's part of who you are as an artist. One of your best qualities in fact. You fearlessly explore everything and reproduce that on canvas and poster board. You force your audience to face unpleasant aspects of themselves and of the world. I'm honored to be one of your subjects. I like knowing that I inspire you. Even in dark times."
I whispered, "You do. I was haunted by that expression for weeks. I couldn't stop myself from painting it."
Brian stared into my eyes for a long, intense moment and then nudged my nose, kissed my lips gently, and thrust his tongue into my mouth, kissing me deeply, but slow. He said so much with that kiss. Even though we were communicating more verbally, he was still accustomed to conveying the more difficult to share emotions with his body. He wrapped his arms more tightly around me and then pushed me back onto the couch so that he was lying on top of me. He started laying open-mouthed kisses down my chest and had just begun to pull down the pajama bottoms when the phone rang. Normally, he would have ignored it. This time, however, he sat straight up and lunged for it (it was sitting on the desk). His voice trembled as he answered, "Hello?" (This made me very nervous. Brian could keep his cool in nearly every situation. I couldn't imagine what would cause such a reaction. Actually, I could, and that scared the hell out of me.)
Brian was facing away from me, probably to hide his reactions to whomever had called, but I could still see the tension in his body. When he dropped his head and started clenching a fist, I knew it was bad. As soon as he set the phone back on the cradle, I asked softly, "What was that all about?"
Through gritted teeth, Brian replied, "That son of a bitch judge let both of them out on bail."
I didn't need to ask who. I shivered.
Brian's POV
The fear and the guilt were back. Remembering that nightmarish drive to pick Justin up after, after, it happened, after the rape,I forced myself to articulate in my thoughts, I was nearly overwhelmed by guilt and fear. Before I had not been able to protect what was most precious to me in all the world. Would I be able to do so now? Cold fear, more intense than I had ever experienced, gripped my heart. I had never felt so powerless in all my life. I looked back at Justin and saw that same fear mirrored in his eyes. Suddenly, the phone rang.
"Hello," I muttered.
Mel's sharp voice barked back at me. At the moment, it seemed that nothing had ever sounded so beautiful.
"I spoke with the DA. He's nearly useless, which you could probably have guessed, since he couldn't stop the judge from granting bail. So I called a friend who knows that scumbag judge. Apparently, he's a self-hating closet case. I was hoping that he was somehow linked to Hobbes or Gold. That would have made everything very simple. You know, the DA could have asked that he be removed, and his ruling overturned, due to a conflict of interest. But internalized hatred and bigotry is nearly impossible to prove and wouldn't necessarily help anyway. I'm going to call a few more friends from law school and see what else I can dig up on this judge. (She suddenly fell silent. After a few moments, she continued, her voice shaking.) Brian…I…I promise…I'll find a way to get them back in jail, and, after that, the DA won't be able to choose what kind of coffee he wants without me in his face asking him why a latte rather than an espresso."
"Thanks, Mel."
As soon as I clicked the phone off, it rang again.
"Hello."
"Brian, it's Carl. I sent four of my best guys over. Two will sit in front of your building, and two, in the back. We're also watching the airport. That's all I was able to do through proper channels, but I called two buddies from the academy. They're in the private sector. They're willing to tail Gold and Hobbs, but it'll cost."
I interjected, "Money's no object."
"Okay, good. I'll let them know."
"Thanks, Carl."
He laughed. "Hey, don't thank me. Debbie threatened to cut me off if I didn't keep her Sunshine safe."
I returned the phone to the cradle and moved back to the couch. Then, I pulled Justin into my arms and held him tight. I whispered words I wished I could believe, "Don't worry. We'll keep you safe. I'll keep you safe, Angel."
I felt like laughing when Justin relaxed in my arms. As always, he trusted me, and in my ability to protect him. Completely. I vowed to be worthy of that trust. Whatever it took.