Rules of the Heart

Chapter 12

When Jennifer Taylor arrived at the hospital, she was told the same thing the man on the phone had told her. Justin’s hand, his left hand—the voice on the phone had been adamant about that—had been slammed in a car door and he was in surgery to set the broken bones. The nurse directed her to a waiting room where Justin’s friends were. Jennifer followed the quiet corridor to the small alcove and found herself among a group of strangers. The only face she recognized was Lindsay Peterson, the art teacher. Why was she here?

"Mrs. Taylor," Lindsay greeted her as she offered the woman a seat.

"No thank you," Justin’s mother replied tightly. "I’m looking for Brian Kinney. He called me and said Justin was here."

"Brian went to the rest room, he’ll be right back."

"Why are you here, who are all these people?" Jennifer asked, her confusion obvious. "Where are Justin’s friends? Wasn’t Eric with him? And Daphne?"

Lindsay glanced around the room, but saw no help forthcoming from the others. None of them could tell the woman where Daphne and Eric were. "Well," she started slowly, trying to figure out what exactly to tell, "My partner and I were having a dinner party tonight and these are some of our friends. Justin was with us."

"He was babysitting?" Jennifer cut in. She remembered Justin had talked about Lindsay’s son, Gus.

"No, he was a guest. We’re his friends." Lindsay gestured to an older man and woman sitting in the corner, watching raptly. "That’s Debbie Novotny and her brother, Vic Grassi. Debbie works at the diner with Justin."

Jennifer was surprised to see the siblings were as old as she, but obviously, the woman cared for Justin very much if her smeared make-up and tear-stained face were any indication.

Debbie looked away from Jennifer’s gaze and hurried out of the room. Vic watched her go, then turned his attention back to Lindsay’s introductions.

"Over there, that’s Ted Schmidt and Emmett Honeycutt."

Jennifer frowned. "Emmett?" She recognized the name, but the man she was looking at was not what she imagined.

"Mrs. Taylor," the man said politely, extending his hand. "I wish we’d met under better circumstances. Justin talks about you all the time."

"I—I--"

Emmett wrinkled his nose. "This must be a shock," he said understandingly.

"I thought you were a student," the woman suddenly blurted.

"Just a student of life," the man quipped. He saw the woman was not amused and sobered quickly. "We tried to call Daphne, but there was no answer."

"What about Eric?"

Emmett’s brows knit together. "What about him? I mean--"

"I thought they were…together—seeing each other."

Emmett saw Brian come up behind Justin’s mother and shook his head forcefully. "It’s my understanding they’re just friends. Eric is seeing someone else from school." To Justin’s relief, when he had finally told Eric he was interested in someone else, their friendship had been strained to say the least, but a few weeks ago Eric started seeing a fiddler from the music department. Now Justin and Eric were okay again and strictly friends.

"Oh, I just—then who is Brian Kinney?"

"I am."

Jennifer turned around and saw the handsome older man, disheveled and worried, standing in the doorway.

Lindsay saw Justin’s mother pale from shock and rushed to explain, "Brian is another friend of ours. He’s Gus’ father."

"You were with him?" she asked abruptly, her hackles raised—mother’s intuition.

Brian nodded. "I was giving him a ride home," he glanced at Lindsay, "from the party."

"What happened?"

She saw a flicker of…something pass over his face before he replied, "Justin, Michael, another… friend," he strained the word, "and I were getting in the jeep and—it was an accident," he snapped harshly. "Just horsing around."

"How exactly do grown men horse around with a teenage boy?" she asked flatly.

Brian’s blank expression never wavered. "The surgery should be over soon. Then you can talk to the doctor." Before she could say anything else, he left again.

 

***
 

Debbie found Michael in another waiting area just down the hall. She knew he wouldn’t go far, although he was staying away from Brian for the time being.

Michael adjusted the ice pack on his eye. "I can’t believe Brian hit me," he whined.

Debbie pulled the ice away and looked at the bruise forming on her son’s cheek. "I’m surprised all you got was a shiner," she said quietly. She’d been so angry when she’d seen Michael’s face, but after she found out what happened, she only felt sad for her boys. The woman didn’t know how they were going to get through this.

"It was an accident!" Michael insisted for what seemed the hundredth time. He didn’t know Justin’s hand was in the door. He didn’t mean to hurt him, he just didn’t think when he saw them together. But now he was thinking, and it hurt worse than Brian punching him.

Michael kept replaying those minutes in the alley and on the ride to the hospital over and over in his mind. Brian’s look of anguish when he saw Justin was hurt. Then, Brian turning on him when Michael tried to help and the rage that overtook his friend when he hit him. Michael had no doubt Brian would have done worse if Justin hadn’t needed him. And that’s all it took. Justin calling Brian’s name, putting himself between them, his hand bleeding and mangled against his chest and Brian had stopped. He gave Michael the keys and told him to drive them to the hospital.

Brian and Justin sat in the back, Justin molding into Brian’s side. The blond had been pale and sweating, silent now except for a few escaping moans when he was jarred by the road. And Brian never took his eyes off him. He held the boy’s other hand tightly, rubbing it against his lips and murmuring things to him that Michael couldn’t hear.

"I know you didn’t mean it," Debbie sighed. "And everyone’s grateful it wasn’t his other hand. He would’ve missed school, and who knows if he could even draw again."

Michael blanched. It hadn’t occurred to him that THAT was why Brian was so upset. Justin was an art student. He could’ve destroyed his future. Oh, god. The guilt washed over him, mingled with another painful reminder of how clearly things had changed. "How’s Brian?" he asked miserably.

"I don’t know. Justin’s mother is here so I suppose it’s awkward for both of them right now." Actually, it was an uncomfortable situation for them all. Debbie didn’t know how to console the woman when her own son was to blame.

Michael nodded. "But that’s good. Now that she’s here Brian can go--"

"He’s not going anywhere," Debbie cut him off sharply. "And neither are you. This is no time for a pity party, so suck it up and get in there and support your friend. That’s what you’re always telling me isn’t it? You’re best friends? Now act like it."

"I meant he needs to get cleaned up," Michael huffed defensively. "Get something to eat, rest. I AM his friend, but he doesn’t want me near him right now. And I don’t want to see him either. I’m sorry about Justin, but he’ll be okay, and no one seems to care that I caught them together! They’ve been lying to me. Brian’s been cheating on me! Fucking him behind my back!"

"Brian fucks anything with a dick," Debbie snapped. "You know that."

Neither of them saw Jennifer Taylor pass by the doorway.

Michael shook his head, tears in his eyes again. No one understood. "They were kissing, Ma. And… and," he sniffed, "Brian said he wanted to celebrate. With Justin, not me. I’m his boyfriend, but he didn’t tell me he was back or that he got the account. He told Justin."

Debbie saw the defeat in her son’s eyes and her heart broke once again for him, as his broke for the millionth, and possibly—finally—the last time over Brian Kinney. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and hugged him to her, knowing it was a futile gesture. Nothing would help the additional pain she was about to inflict. "I think Brian might actually love that kid. As much as he can."

She heard Michael gulp back a sob. "It’s not fair," he cried. "I’ve loved him for years. All these years. And Justin gets him? In a fucking month? He gets it all?"

Debbie gently rocked him back and forth as he cried his heart out. "No one ever said life was fair, Kiddo. It just is what it is."

 

***
 

Jennifer Taylor quietly walked away from the woman and her son without them ever knowing she had been eavesdropping from the hall. She knew she shouldn’t have been, but they were talking about her son.

Her son was having an affair with Brian Kinney.


 

***
 

Justin squinted at the nurse who was bustling around his bed as they settled him into his own little cubicle for the rest of the anesthesia to wear off. He thought they would never let him out of the recovery room. He looked around anxiously for Brian, but didn’t see him anywhere. "Brian?" he questioned the nurse through dry lips.

"Your friend?" she asked sweetly. "He’s right outside with your mom. They’re very anxious to see you. Let me just get you another blanket and I’ll tell them to come in."

Justin just nodded, pushing back the anxiety that bubbled up when he realized his mom and Brian had met.

The nurse poked her head out and saw the teen’s mother in a rather animated discussion with the handsome brunet. "Excuse me, Mrs. Taylor? Justin would like to see you…and Brian."

The woman thanked her as she entered the room, but the nurse was disappointed to see the brunet turn and leave.

 

***
 

Debbie looked up as Vic entered the secluded area she and Michael had been sitting in.

"Hey, Sis," Vic said, "Just wanted to let you know Justin’s awake. And fine." He saw Debbie start to rise and put his hand on her shoulder. "His mother is with him, then she’s taking him home."

Debbie looked at him questioningly. There was something else.

"It’s late. Let’s go home and get some rest," her brother said wearily. In his condition, spending the night in the hospital was very taxing, and eerily foreboding.

"Wait a fucking minute," Debbie hissed. "What’s going on?"

Vic blinked at her. "Mrs. Taylor found out about Justin and Brian. She doesn’t know exactly what happened," he explained, glancing at his nephew, "but she’s figured out enough to know that Justin’s come between Brian and Michael and she doesn’t want Brian using her son as a, and I quote, sex toy to make himself feel more adequate, end quote."

"Holy fuck!" Debbie gasped, just imagining Brian’s reaction to that.

Vic nodded in agreement. "Then Brian left."

Debbie’s mouth smacked shut. THAT she wasn’t expecting.

 

***
 

"Justin, sweetheart," Jennifer sighed with relief when she saw him sitting up in bed.

Mom?" he replied groggily as she gingerly kissed his forehead.

"How are you feeling?"

"M’okay," he mumbled. "Thirsty," he added, nodding to the can of soda the nurse had left.

Jennifer held the can up for him so he could sip through the straw. The teen leaned back against the pillows and looked at the door hopefully. "Where’s Brian?"

He watched his mother warily as she fussed with his blankets. "Who? Oh, Brian. He went home. I told them all to go home and get some rest when we found out you were okay."

"He left?" Justin asked in surprise. "No, you’re wrong, please. Look again. He promised. He said he’d stay."

"Justin, I know you babysit his son, and you’re friends, but I’m here now. There’s no reason for him to stay any longer."

Justin heard a catch in her voice and she deliberately avoided looking at him. She knew. He reached out with his strong hand and caught her arm tightly. She seemed surprised by his strength. "Mom, you know Brian is more than my friend. He’s my…I love him."

"We can talk about this later," she said brusquely. "Right now, you need--"

"There’s nothing to talk about," he argued. "I want to see Brian."

The anger Jennifer had been keeping a tight lid on started to boil again. "I think you caused enough trouble tonight," she snapped. She was angry with that older man for taking advantage of her son, but she was also disappointed in her son for having so little respect for himself and someone else’s relationship. She thought she had raised him better than that.

Justin gaped at her. "What? I didn’t--"

"Were you even thinking about the consequences of your actions? You’re too young to be involved with a man of his age. He has a child, a career, and a partner that you--"

"Stop it! Who told you that? Michael?" the teen cried indignantly. "You don’t understand. He’s NOT Brian’s partner. Brian doesn’t want him, he wants me."

Jennifer shook her head. "Justin, he left. You were just a…distraction."

Her son glared at her. "I am not. He loves me." The boy’s blue eyes narrowed. "What did you say to him? You did this!"

"I’ve had enough of this foolishness. I’m taking you home and--"

"No!"

"Justin--"

"I am not going home with you! Do you even hear yourself?" Justin’s eyes were filled with tears and he turned his head away. "You sound just like dad."

 

***
 

Debbie caught up with Brian in the parking lot. The man was pacing nervously in front of the jeep, obviously caught in his own thoughts.

"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?" she barked.

"Leave me the fuck alone," he growled back, his need to get away from her suddenly greater than his hesitation to get back in the car that had Justin’s blood in it.

"What about Sunshine?"

His hand paused on the door handle. "What about him?" he asked coolly, but he knew she could still hear the waver in his voice. Fuck.

"I don’t want to see him hurt anymore and--"

"That’s life."

"You love him, don’t you?"

Damn it, woman. Brian stared at the ground knowing she could tell she managed to blindside him.

"I thought so." Debbie gently put her hand on his cheek, but he still wouldn’t look at her. "Then tell him. Tell him what you could never tell Michael." Brian’s unhappy, dull hazel eyes slowly drifted up. "I know you tried to do the right thing by my son, and I’m sorry for my part in it. Now, you need to do what’s right for you before it’s too late." She slapped his cheek lightly and turned back to the hospital. "Don’t fuck it up," she shot back over her shoulder as he watched her walk away.

 

***
 

Vic and Michael sat in the hall waiting for Debbie to come back. Michael was going to go home with them for the night since Emmett wasn’t talking to him right now. Ted went to get the car while Emmett loitered around Justin’s room hoping to at least see him for a moment before they left.

"He never loved me," Michael lamented.

"Brian loves you, Michael," Vic disagreed. "He loves you so much he tried to give you what you wanted, despite his own happiness. But do you see now that you’re only meant to be friends? You will always have each other, no matter who your lovers are. I’ve always thought that was more important than who you’re fucking anyway. You can get laid anytime, but a friend who will put up with your shit, that’s something else."

Michael nodded. "But it’s all over now. How can I trust him when he lied to me? Best friend’s don’t lie to each other."

"What exactly did he lie about?" his uncle asked. "He didn’t promise monogamy."

"But we had rules--"

"HE had rules. You just tried to take advantage of them."

"What?" Michael scowled. I didn’t--"

"Brian had those rules long before you started fucking. They were for him, not for you. You simply used them as a means to your own end."

"But he still--"

"It’s his prerogative to change his mind if he didn’t want to live with them anymore, and although you don’t want to hear it, you have no say in that. It was never your place."

Michael leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes. "I know," he whispered hoarsely around the lump forming in his throat. He just couldn’t believe that fucking kid managed to do what he’d never been able to.

 

***
 

"Justin," Jennifer said firmly, "the doctor told you you’re going to need help--"

"I’m going back to MY apartment. Daphne can help me."

"She has classes."

"And Emmett. My friends will help me."

Jennifer rubbed her temple, a fleeting gesture that showed her stress before resolutely squaring her shoulders again. "This is not up for discussion. You’ll stay at home until you can take care of yourself again. I’m your mother, Justin, and--"

"I’m eighteen years old! You can’t make me!"

"Stop being a Princess," Brian ordered.

Justin and his mother glanced over and saw the exec leaning against the doorframe. "Brian!" the teen cried in surprise. He held his other hand out for Brian.

"Hey, Sunshine." Brian crossed over to the bed.

"Mr. Kinney, may I have a word with you outside?" Jennifer asked coolly, placing herself between the man and her son’s bed.

"NO," Justin snapped.

"In a minute," Brian replied, stepping around her to lean forward and kiss Justin.

The teen sighed, wrapping his free arm around the older man’s neck. "I’m glad you came back," he whispered.

Brian carefully pulled away, his fingers gently grazing Justin’s bruised fingertips sticking out of the cast. "I was just looking for some crayons for you to start a masterpiece on that cast. How do you feel?"

Justin shrugged. "Numb. I guess that’s good because it hurt so bad before." His eyes were wide and clouded over when he was forced to remember think about it again. He searched Brian’s face for an honest response to his worst fear. "They said—I—I don’t understand how…what if I can’t--"

"You will," Brian promised. He’d talked to the doctor and he knew they’d told Justin about the pins and wires inserted in his hand and that was obviously freaking the boy out.

There had been extensive crushing over the knuckles and it had been difficult to set, but now that it was, the important thing was keeping it from slipping. Once the bones and tendons were healed, there would be extensive therapy but they expected a good recovery. His only long term drawbacks were the loss of some fine motor control because of bone calluses and likelihood of the early onset of arthritis in those joints. But if Justin could still eventually use his hand and hadn’t lost any fingers, Brian didn’t really give a shit about the rest. He was right-handed, he would still have a brilliant career as an artist, and they would deal with anything else as it came along—starting with where he was going to stay.

"I want to go home, Bri."

"I know," the older man replied, glancing at the woman standing stiffly at the end of the bed. "But your mother’s right, you need to stay with someone for a while."

Justin shook his head, pleading, "Brian, I won’t go with her, not after…" he glared at her.

Brian took Justin’s chin in his hand, turning the boy’s face back to him. "She was just trying to do what’s right for you. You’re lucky to have her."

"But I can go home," the teen said again defiantly. "I don’t need her to babysit me."

Brian nodded. "Okay. Let me talk to--"

"No," Jennifer cut in. "This is not your decision--"

Brian raised an eyebrow. "You’re right, it’s Justin’s, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s made it."

"But he can’t--"

"Why not? I have some time off coming so I’ll be there, and I can work from home if necessary. I assure you I am more than adequately equipped to meet his needs." He ignored her slight flush and turned back to Justin. "Besides, I have a security system that will keep Emmett Nightingale and the Red Queers away so they don’t smother you to death," Brian smirked.

Justin’s eyes widened when he realized Brian meant HIS home and Brian stopped the soon to follow flurry of questions with another kiss. "Any objections?" he murmured. Justin smiled as brightly as he could under the circumstances and shook his head. The older man straightened up and fixed the boy’s mother with a steady gaze. "That’s settled then. Is there anything else you still want to talk about?"

"This is hardly an appropriate solution!"

"It’s the perfect solution," Justin countered happily.

Jennifer stared from one man to the other for a moment, her face a riot of emotions before she seemed to pull herself together again. "If you’ll give me the number and address, I’ll call tomorrow and stop by to check on you," she finally said tiredly.

"Mom," Justin began to object, but a stern look from his lover stopped him. Brian was already writing the information down for her.

"I’ll get the nurse and see what we need to do to get you sprung," Brian said, "And I know the others are still waiting outside, if you want to see them."

Justin glanced at his mother and she looked away. "Yes, please." Jennifer then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out. Brian was about to follow her, but Justin grabbed his hand. "What about Michael?" he asked nervously.

Brian suddenly found something more fascinating on the wall to look at. "He’s here," he said after a moment.

Justin fidgeted uncomfortably. He didn’t know what to say. "I know it was an accident, but I--"

"You don’t have to see him."

Justin frowned. In his rush to see Brian, he’d forgotten about the mess waiting for them outside. And somehow he knew Brian had done nothing to deal with it yet. "Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. You two need to talk and--"

Brian shook his head. "We will. Later. But I…I want you at the loft."

"Brian, this isn’t your fault, you know that right?" Justin suddenly felt his chest tighten. He didn’t want to be another Michael. "I don’t want you to do this out of guilt."

Brian’s eyes shifted closer, but they still didn’t reach Justin’s face. "I don’t do guilt."

"Bullshit," the teen shot back. "I know what happened with Michael. Why you pretended to have a relation--"

The hazel eyes were now narrow slits cutting into Justin. "That’s none of your fucking business."

"Bullshit," Justin repeated. "It’s my business now, because you are. Unless you’re going to leave again, right now," he challenged. "But make up your fucking mind because I’m tired."

Brian closed his eyes for a moment. He had no idea when everything had spun out of fucking control. Twelve hours ago, he got a business partner and now he suddenly had a—Christ. No, this was only temporary, just until Justin got better. The rest could be dealt with then. "Can we talk about this later? We will, just…later."

"About you and Michael, or about you and me?"

The older man pushed out a long suffering sigh. "Fucking you is not worth this shit. It’s not THAT great."

"Bull--"

"Shut up, twat."