Brian was back to avoiding him.  He hadn't seen the exasperating man all day.  It had been officially confirmed a little while ago, when Justin dined in solitude.  However, two guards who were obviously following Brian's orders, cautiously eyed his every move from a corner of the room. 
 
At nighttime, Justin did not fare any better.  The young man had a restless sleep due to an unsettling dream.  Brian's hazel eyes were piercing right through him, looking into his soul.  His lust filled voice was commanding Justin to shoot his seed.  The blond awakened to his hand cupping a burgeoning hard on. 
 
Since he was already half way there, Justin decided to continue.  He encircled his thick cock and began tugging on it.  His lewd thoughts were focused on the mysterious but gorgeous man who was imprisoning him.  He closed his eyes and imagined it was Brian's strong hands stroking him to completion.  He could almost hear the older man's short frenzied breaths and encouraging words from the other day. 
 
His hot cock pulsed in his hand .  Before long, Justin was unleashing his potent jizz.  It shot onto his stomach, with some of it even reaching up to grace his shoulder.  Brian Kinney was fucking hot, but he was dangerous too.  That combination made him irresistible.    
 
 
 
Although he was not exactly a morning person, Brian was in an extremely grumpy mood.   It had started off with the coffee tasting like shit.  On top of that, his eggs had been overcooked.  It hadn't helped that last night he had suffered through another bout of fitful sleep.  Ever since young Justin Taylor came into his life, it was quickly becoming the norm. 
 
Brian should have realized that today was going to be a wretched day.  An ominous feeling overcame him when he spotted a livid Jim Stockwell barreling towards their hideout.  Brian could almost see the steam rising from the man's body as his horse came to a sharp halt in front of him. 
 
"I need to speak with you, now," Stockwell snapped as he jumped off his mount to confront Brian.
 
"Come on in," Brian replied calmly as he led the way into the ranch.  "What's the problem?"
 
"Can you believe it?  His father...that, that man!"
 
"Spit it out, Jim," Brian sarcastically quipped, slightly amused by Stockwell's harried state. 
 
"He had the fucking nerve to tell me to keep his son.  Said that as far as he was concerned, the kid was dead to him already."
 
"But then why ask for proof?  Why make it seem as if he were going to consider signing over his possessions to save him?"
 
"That's where you come in," Stockwell accused.  "Did you happen to take a look at your so called "proof"?"
 
"It was just some clothes and a few sketchbooks."
 
"Yes, so it was.  However, when Taylor flipped through the sketchbooks, he got an eyeful.  Seems the young man had sketched some explicit body parts of the male persuasion.  Taylor turned beet red and hurled the books to the floor in disgust.  Can't say that I blame him though.  It doesn't look like he thinks the kid is worth saving since he turned out to be a faggot and a big disappointment."
 
"Did he say that?" Brian asked.
 
"He didn't have to, his facial expression said it all.  That's when he yelled that his son was dead to him."
 
Shit.  Fuck. 
 
"So, what happens now?" Brian tentatively questioned, anticipating the worst.
 
"You kill the kid and let the message sink in.  I'm sure his wife doesn't feel the same way as him.  Maybe they'll be more inclined to comply the next time.  They'll know that I mean business."
 
Although Brian had expected to hear those words, he wasn't quite prepared for their impact.  He felt like someone had sucker punched him in the gut.  He suddenly stopped breathing and his head began to throb.   Brian steadied himself by sheer will, stifling his intense visceral reaction.
 
"Can you handle it?" Stockwell addressed him.  Brian blinked, but did not answer.  "Dump the body tomorrow morning at Taylor's door," he added.
 
Brian managed to pull himself together to assure Stockwell, "Not a problem.  Consider it done."
 
"Good.  I'll see you and the other men tomorrow.   I'll give you the rest of the money for this job and we'll discuss our next move."
 
As Brian watched Stockwell ride off, Tom approached him, attempting to alleviate his cousin's unpleasant task.
 
"You gonna be able to kill the kid, or you want me to do it?"
 
"Fuck you, Tom.  I can handle this on my own." 
 
Tom hadn't been sure how Brian felt about the young man and he still wasn't.  However, he backed off and didn't dare say another word after his offer to help was turned down.  His cousin wasn't a foolish man.  He would carry out the job even if he had grown fond of the Taylor kid.
 
Brian took a deep breath and slid his gun from it's holster.  Gripping the metal object tightly in his right hand, he walked up the steps and opened the door to Justin's room.
 
Justin sensed that something was amiss when Brian strolled into the room brandishing a gun for the first time. 
 
Christ.  'What the fuck had happened?'
 
"Mr. Kinney...Brian.  What's going on?"
 
"Shut the fuck up and come with me."
 
Justin felt the bile rise up in his throat.   He sensed that this was the end of the road for him.  He wasn't going to beg.  Instead, he held his head up high and moved past an impassive Brian.  He felt the unmistakable barrel of a gun at his back as he descended the steps.
 
Brian led him to the stables while the other men snickered and stared.  Justin felt ill knowing that the men were deriving pleasure from his eminent death. 
 
Brian's demeanor was cold, all business like when they entered the stable.
 
"Turn around," the older man ordered him.
 
Justin couldn't believe this was how his life was going to end; in a filthy, smelly stable, shot in the back by a man he had engaged in a hot sexual tryst with just a couple of days before. 
 
"Turn around," Brian repeated his command in a stilted, flat voice.
 
Justin looked into unflinching orbs of amber in a last ditch effort to somehow connect to Brian's humane side. 
 
"I said turn the fuck around!"
 
This time his voice was stronger, more threatening.
 
At least Justin had elicited a rise out of him.  The young man turned around, with his stubborn pride being the only thing keeping him from begging for his life now.
 
"On your knees."
 
Justin obeyed the command in silence, even though he had the inclination to call Brian every cuss word he could think of, but why give him the satisfaction? 
 
"Too bad it has to end like this because your father is such a prick," Brian said in an angry voice.
 
 
 
The men were all out front staring at the stables when one shot rang out.  About five seconds later they heard another one. 
 
Nearly two minutes later, Brian emerged from the stable with a wild look in his eyes.  He nearly bowled two of the men over when he yelled, "What the fuck are you all standing here for?  Did you enjoy the show?  Get the fuck out of my sight!"
 
The men scurried inside, except for Tom. 
 
"You okay, Brian?" he asked with genuine concern for his troubled kin.
 
Brian shook his head, "No." 
 
His answer was truthful and the emotion behind it was raw.  He was most definitely not okay.  From this day on, things for him would never be the same.