Brian's face darkened with rage as he read the name prominently displayed in yellow.  "Son of a bitch!" he growled as he shook his head.  He couldn't really say he was surprised to see Craig Taylor's company name listed on the sheet, though; it all actually made perfect sense to him.

Jennifer frowned.  "What's going on?" Cassandrashe asked with some alarm; she watched Justin swallow noticeably as she readily recognized the distress on his face.  It reminded her of the same sort of expression Justin had worn right after the bashing, a mixture of horror and disbelief.  "What is it?"

Brian peered over at her to explain curtly, "It seems your prick of an ex-husband decided to bestow a small gift to the Turner campaign in the amount of $30,000."

Jennifer's mouth immediately fell open as her eyes grew large in shock.  "What?  You're joking."

Brian arched an eyebrow.  "Do I look like I'm joking, Jennifer?  Does your SON look like I'm joking?"

"I don't believe it," Jennifer murmured as she looked over at Justin, but to her dismay she knew it had to be true by the expression on her son's face.  How could Craig do that to him?  Because that was clearly what he was doing.  He couldn't care less about Turner.  No, it was an overt, ‘fuck you' statement not only to Justin but to Brian and his father as well.  "Where did he even get the damn money?" she pondered.  Craig was always whining to her about not having any money left over after paying expenses for Molly's education and medical insurance premiums to take ‘proper' care of his newborn daughter, Cassandra, or Cassie for short, who had been born to him and his new wife, Laurie, about six months ago.  If he was so destitute, then, how did he manage to come up with all this money toward Turner's campaign?  Had he been lying to her all along about just what sort of condition his company was in or exactly how much money he had?  If he was, it wouldn't surprise her in the least; she had long ago realized that she couldn't believe anything Craig told her anymore.

"Good question," Brian growled as he peered over at Danny.  "Did you manage to dig up anything about where all this fucking money came from?"

"Last page," Danny told him with a nod as Brian flipped open the stapled packet to peer at the last sheet, which showed a detailed listing of bank account information.  "I'm not sure how he earned the money, but I do know where it went afterward."

Accustomed to quickly scanning large volumes of information at Kinnetik to get to the crux of a matter, it didn't take Brian long to determine what was going on.  "That lying piece of shit!" he snapped as Justin twisted his head to look into his eyes.  Brian let out an angry breath before he explained, "It seems your Daddy Dearest has something in common with Turner and his nitwits; he has a convenient little offshore account set up to hide some of his profits."

Brian shook his head as Justin looked up at him in shock over that revelation. "I don't understand," Justin whispered, his voice shrouded in pain.   All he had heard about from his mother was how his father's business was on the verge of collapsing due to the proliferation of online companies that could offer the same electronics goods for a lower price and without charging sales tax.  If that was the case, then, how could he afford to contribute such an outrageous amount of money toward Turner's campaign, and where exactly did all the money originate from?  Apparently when it came to doing something to hurt him, though, he could magically find the funds somehow.   He turned his head back around and cast his eyes downward, not wanting everyone to know how much this information affected him.

Brian grasped the paper in his right hand as the back of his other hand reached down to lightly caress Justin's cheek supportively from behind; shit, he hated to tell Justin the rest of it, but he couldn't hide it from him, either.  "Well, he not only has the wherewithal to hide his excess funds overseas, but from the look of things, he's making a tidy little profit to boot," he informed him softly as the others at the table peered over at him expectantly.   He dropped his hand to Justin's shoulder as he informed him, "According to this statement, he's got over a quarter million dollars in that account."

Justin jerked his head upward to look into the startled eyes of his mother, which no doubt mirrored his own at the moment.  "What the hell?"  He pushed back from the chair as Brian dodged out of the way just before he twirled around to face him.  "Are you shitting me?"  This couldn't be true.  He refused to believe it was true, even now.

"I'm sorry, Sunshine," Brian murmured sympathetically, not worrying about how that pet name might sound to someone like Danny, who was watching all the interaction intently.  The detective knew it wasn't his place to decipher the other man's motives, but simply to provide the facts.  "I don't know where he's gotten all that money, but it's right here in black and white."  He shook his head in disgust, hating Craig Taylor even more at that moment for causing the man he loved so much pain again.  Would the asshole ever stop hurting his only son?  But of course, Craig Taylor didn't give a shit.  Well, he didn't either, then.  His lips drew into a tight line as he began to crumple up the sheet into a ball to throw it away, only to have Justin reach over and grasp his wrist to stop him.

"No, Brian!" he said firmly, his jaw set with determination.  "Let me have it."

"Justin..." He glanced over at his mother-in-law, who shook her head as if to say don't question what he wants before he reluctantly handed the slightly wrinkled document back to his husband.

"I want to keep this," he told Brian.  "I'm going to need it."

Brian watched as Justin placed the paperwork down on the patio table and smoothed it out carefully with his hands; he could see his lover's hand shaking slightly as he picked up the piece of paper again and studied it.  He knew Justin was trying to look a lot calmer than he actually was, and he knew how much this had to be affecting him.  Ever since Craig Taylor had first caught a whiff of his and Justin's relationship so long ago, the man had done everything he could to keep them apart.  This, though, was a new low, even outdoing the time the bastard had had Justin arrested.  He hadn't even known about that for a long time, not until it had slipped out one night over dinner with Jennifer, who had assumed he knew about it all along.  It had happened when they were having difficulties in their relationship, however, and not too long before the bombing, which had taken precedence over everything else.

Justin's heart ached with pain as he stared at the paper; he felt like his heart had just been stabbed with a needle.  At that moment, any hope that one day he and his father could somehow reach an understanding and at least start talking to each other again in hopes of eventually regaining some sort of father-son relationship was promptly smashed irretrievably.   One last, irrational hope sprang inside him that perhaps he was reading the information wrong, that maybe there was another Taylor Electronics somewhere in Pennsylvania; but as he looked down at the information again, there it was:  his father's company name and address, along with his name listed as CEO and the amount of the contribution to Turner's campaign: $30,000.  Well above the legal limit a company could contribute publicly, and more than what he had thought his father could afford to spend.  Apparently he had been sadly mistaken about that, however.  His eyes stung with unshed tears that he refused to acknowledge as he carefully folded the paper into fourths and slid in into his jeans pocket.

"Justin?" was the concerned query from beside him as he agitatedly brushed his right hand through his hair and turned to look at Brian.  "What do you mean, you're going to need it?"

"You all go ahead and finish your lunch," he told everyone at the table curtly.  "I have an errand to run."

Tony locked concerned eyes with Fin.   Just like everyone else at the table, he knew exactly what sort of ‘errand' Justin felt he needed to undertake, and he didn't like the idea.  One look at Brian's face and he knew Brian didn't, either.  "I'll come with you," he impulsively volunteered to his friend.  God knows that Justin had been there for him on numerous occasions for moral support; it was the least he could do.  Besides, he had a sudden hankering to see the asshole of a father in person who was treating such a wonderful man as his friend like shit so he could give him a piece of his mind, too.

Justin shook his head.  "Thank you, Tony, but no, this is one errand I need to run alone; so if you'll excuse me," he added stiffly as he turned to go.  He didn't get far, however, before a hand clamped itself over his wrist to hold him in place.

"Justin, you are NOT going to meet your father by yourself!"

"I agree with Brian, Honey," Jennifer chimed in quietly.  "I don't think that's such a good idea, especially with the mood that you're in."

Justin bristled as his eyes darkened with anger, the feeling of pain washing over him like a tidal wave.  "The mood I'm in?  You want to know how I feel right now, Mom?  You really want to know?  Well, I'll tell you!  I'm fucking tired of constantly thinking that maybe one day, just one day, my father will finally decide that who I fuck doesn't matter after all and that I'm not some filthy, depraved piece of shit that needs to be scraped off the bottom of his boot against the sidewalk!  I'm sick of still caring about WHAT he thinks or that I might one day actually have some sort of relationship with him again!"  To his disgust, Justin found his voice catching as he added, "And I'm sick of thinking that maybe he might one day be proud of me instead of constantly finding ways to show how much he despises me!"  Despite his vow not to appear pathetic in front of Brian, his mother, and his friends, he couldn't help the tears that trickled down his cheeks now as he pressed his lips tightly together in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the flow.

"Shit!" he cried out in repugnance over what he viewed as a weakness.  He angrily brushed the wetness from his cheeks as Brian reached out toward him.  "No!" he shouted, attracting Gus's attention from his place on the tennis court nearby.   "Leave me alone!"  He roughly yanked his arm free of Brian's grasp as he whirled around to head quickly toward the back door, only to be intercepted by a pair of fast-moving little legs before he could reach his destination.  "Poppa?"

Justin stopped where he stood, his back to Gus, as he closed his eyes to try and calm his raging emotions.   He slowly uncurled his clenched fists and took a deep breath before he turned around to stare down into a pair of expressive, brown eyes.  He forced a reassuring, slight smile on his face as he stooped down to look into the little boy's face.  "What is it, Little Man?" he asked softly.

Gus reached over to gently wipe away the remaining wetness from Justin's cheeks with both hands.  "Did you get hurt, Poppa?" he asked him in concern as he cupped his hands around Justin's face, forcing him to meet his worried gaze.

"Yeah, Buddy, I got hurt," Justin whispered back before he took another deep breath in and let it out.  He placed his hands on top of Gus's smaller ones as he reassured him, "But I'm going to be okay, Gus; it's nothing for you to worry about."  He took Gus's hands in his to drop them between their bodies and clasped them to his chest protectively, needing the feel of those small, warm, soft hands in his and seeking the grounding that they offered him.  Unlike his father, he saw nothing but love and acceptance in the eyes peering back at him, helping to counteract the blackness he was feeling in his heart at the moment.  "I'll be just fine, Gus.  I just have to run out to do a little errand, that's all.  I'll be back before you know it.   And everyone else will stay here with you, so you can keep playing with your car, all right?"

"But I want to go with you," Gus insisted as he gazed into the troubled, blue eyes.  "We can get some ice cream," he said hopefully, remembering how many times he had been able to persuade Justin to stop and do just that whenever they were out together, unlike his father who always seemed to find a way to avoid it.  Sometimes his poppa just seemed to understand him better for some reason.

Justin smiled at him tenderly.  "Not this time, Gus," he told him gently.  "But I promise we will real soon.  Now I have to go, okay?  The sooner I get there, the sooner I can come back."  He felt terrible about having to disappoint his stepson, but there was no way he was taking him with him.  "I'll tell you what - I'll stop at the grocery on my way back and pick us up some cookie dough ice cream and some waffle cones so we can fix one when I get home, okay?  How's that?"

Gus's eyes lit up as he nodded in excitement over that plan.  This way, he could keep playing with his remote-control car and get some of his favorite ice cream, too.  "Okay, Poppa," he agreed with a smile.  Justin let go of his hands with a smile of his own just before Gus reached over and grabbed his neck with both hands to pull him into a fierce hug.

Justin's hands slid around the tiny body in response as the two stayed there embracing for several seconds before, with a grunt and a slightly tighter squeeze, Justin let him go and smiled over at him again.  "I'll be back soon," he promised him as he looked into his eyes.

Gus nodded just before he whispered, "Okay.  I love you, Poppa. Hurry back."

Justin swallowed hard; he knew Gus wasn't anxious for him to return just because he was craving his favorite ice cream; he knew it went much deeper than that.  His eyes glistened as he whispered back, "I will.  I love you, too, Buddy."  He reached over and kissed Gus lightly on the cheek before he stood up, and with one last gaze over at Brian who had been watching the entire scene with worried eyes along with everyone else at the table, turned around and quickly slid the door open and shut to disappear inside.

From her place at the table, Kathy thought her heart would break.  It was so obvious how much Gus loved Justin; everyone loved him.  What was it, then, that his own father couldn't see?  Was he that blinded by hate and bigotry that he couldn't look beyond Justin's sexuality to see the wonderful, compassionate, kind, and courageous man his son had become?   How incredibly sad, she couldn't help thinking, and what an insurmountable loss for Craig Taylor.  He didn't deserve a son like Justin.  She reached over to take Sean's hand in hers as he gaze it a squeeze.

"Brian..." she heard Jennifer say, seeing Justin's mother's own eyes filled with tears over the disappointment and sorrow everyone could practically feel radiating from her son.  "Are you just going to let him go?"

Brian sighed.  "What would you have me do, Jennifer?" he asked her softly.  "I fucking hate for him to confront him alone, but this is his battle to wage.  He needs to do this by himself.  He does not want me holding his hand - literally or figuratively - when he talks to him.  And your ex needs to be told what a selfish, arrogant prick he is, and something tells me that Sunshine is just the right man for the job."  That didn't mean, though, that he wouldn't have to be there later to help pick up the pieces.  He knew Justin would be hurting deeply by the time he returned.  How he wished his husband did not have to see his asshole of a father ever again!  But he also knew to Justin it was important to clear the air between him.  As painful as it was, Justin needed to realize that his secret dream of wanting to regain any father/son relationship with Craig Taylor was not going to happen.  Only then was he certain that Justin could let it go completely and move on.

Jennifer blew out a tense breath and nodded.  "Yeah, I guess you're right," she admitted as she cast a worried glance over at the back door.   "I hate that man right now," she said to no one in particular.  "I really hate him for doing this to Justin."  She turned to look at Fin.  "And for what he's doing to you, too.  What in the hell was he thinking?  How could he have possibly thought that Richard Turner was a better candidate for Governor?"

"He didn't," Fin told her simply.  "He just decided that I wasn't. He didn't CARE who my opponent was."   Fin turned to look over at Danny, who had remained mostly silent during the whole episode.  "Danny, can't this man face some strong penalties for campaign funding violations?"

"Well, I'm not an expert, but yeah, he sure could.  Why do you think Turner resigned so quickly?  He knew he was in trouble, too.  Sounds like this guy, though, was either too intent on destroying your chances of winning or was just too ignorant of campaign finance laws to adhere to the rules."

"Danny's right, Fin," Tony told his partner.  "If Craig Taylor thought he had problems before, that will be nothing by the time the Feds get done with him.  I assume we're going to take this public?"

Fin glanced over at his son.  "Brian?"  He felt his son, as his campaign manager as well as Justin's husband, should be the one to determine what to do with this troubling information.  "What do you think?  Do we go to the press with this?"

The group grew quiet as Brian pondered all the possible ramifications, both political as well as personal, of disclosing this information to the media.   "Well, this information would have been a hell of a lot more damaging were Turner still your opponent," he stated as both Fin and Tony mutely nodded in agreement.  "But with Whittle now running against you?  We need to weigh the possible benefits of revealing this list to the public versus coming off as desperate to find a way to propel your popularity higher in the polls."  The latest poll showed a very close race between his father and his old senate colleague; currently Fin was leading the Kaiser poll by five percentage points:  45% versus 40%, with 15% of the general public still undecided.

He bit his lip briefly in thought before he declared, "I say we pass this information along to the Feds anonymously and let them deal with it; I think you will make more of a positive impression with the voters by fielding policy questions well and providing answers to more relevant issues during the next two debates than taking credit for publicizing this document's salacious details."  His father and Whittle were scheduled to face off with two more debates:  one this coming Friday and the next one on the following Friday.  "But it's your call, Fin; you're the candidate."

Fin shook his head firmly in disagreement.  "No, you're the campaign manager - and Justin's husband.  I trust your judgment implicitly."  He turned to the detective.  "Danny, as always we'll be mum as to where this information came from if we're asked.  Thank you for handling this on the QT for my son-in-law's sake."

Danny nodded.  "No problem; I owed Tony big time from before, so I'm simply returning the favor."  He took one last, big swig from his beer bottle before he, too, scooted back from the table.  "If you all will excuse me, then, I have a little more business to take care of before I head back to Harrisburg.  I think my favorite hacker is about to freeze someone's Caribbean account temporarily; poor thing," he said with a snicker; this was one time he was going to thoroughly enjoy thwarting someone's attempt to hide his wealth.  "Nice meeting you all," he told Jennifer, Brian, Kathy, and Sean, who nodded back at him.  "I'll just walk around the side of the house to the driveway; see ya."  He gave them all a curt nod before placing his bottle down on the table and turning to walk away.

"I'll open the gate for you," Brian called out to him as Danny nodded without turning back around.  Several seconds later, he disappeared from view.    Brian couldn't help smiling smugly to himself a little as Danny left; none of them had thought about the possibility of Craig Taylor taking all his money out and closing up the account once Justin informed him that they were on to him; now, however, it appears he was going to have a little problem with that and he couldn't be happier about it.

The thought of Justin confronting his father alone, however, sobered him as he sat back down; Gus came rushing up to him as he pulled him onto his lap and slid his arms around to hold him close; somehow just having Gus in his arms helped at least somewhat to assuage a little of his concern for Justin.  "Just once I'd like to have a barbecue without any family melodrama as the appetizer," he murmured to the others as he breathed in his son's sweet, innocent smell, remembering how he had met Fin and Tony one day not too long ago during an event much like this one.  At least that encounter had eventually led to a good thing, though; it was a far cry from what he suspected Justin was about to endure.

Thirty Minutes Later

Justin pulled up in front of the tree-lined street containing the two-story, brick building housing his father's condo where he currently resided with his wife, Laurie, and their newborn daughter.  He had never actually seen his half-sister since she had been born; he had heard about her from Molly after she had gone to see her in the hospital, but apart from seeing a photo of her on his sister's cellphone, he had never seen her in person.  Of course, he hadn't seen his father in years, either; not since he had called the police to report him as a trespasser.  As far as his father had been concerned, apparently he was as good as disowned since that day.  Only now, though, did he realize just how much his father apparently rejected him completely.

He slowed the car down as he parked at the curb directly across from the building and, turning the ignition off, stared through the open driver's side window over at the structure, seeing no activity upstairs.  There was a light shining by one of the windows, however, its glow just now starting to be noticeable in the slowly waning daylight.  He wondered if both his father and his new wife were home; he had only met Laurie very briefly once before when he had come to the condo to show his father some of his drawings and to swallow his pride and his dignity long enough to ask if he would help him out with his tuition at PIFA.  Of course, that hadn't happened, despite his wish that somehow his father would finally realize that he was a person, not a sexual orientation.   Obviously, though, his father couldn't see one without the other back then and still couldn't.

Letting out a nervous breath, he slid the window back up and soon emerged from the driver's side; walking across the street and up the cement sidewalk he studied the residence.  It was an older brick building - square in shape with two identical doors on either side servicing two sets each for the four tenants - but it was well-kept and the shrubs surrounding the front windows neatly manicured into large, round balls of green.  It was apparently built well before the days of high security, however, not having any buzzer to be announced but merely allowing any stranger to open the door and proceed up to the occupant's apartment.  Justin stood there, composing his thoughts for several seconds, until he opened the left screen door and exterior, solid wooden door and began to walk up the steps directly leading to the entrance to his father's condo above.

He swallowed hard as he stood at the door at last.  His anger from earlier was still there simmering inside, but the hurt he was feeling superseded that as he finally raised his hand and rapped three times in quick succession.  A few seconds later, he could hear footsteps inside approaching as his heart began to pound in anxiety.  He held his breath as he heard a door latch being unlocked and the door being opened.  As he lifted his gaze to peer at the person opening it, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed to see that it was his father's new wife instead.

Laurie Taylor was slim and tall with light, brown hair and green eyes.  She resembled his mother in some ways - several years younger, but classically dressed in form-fitting, cream-colored linen slacks and a two-piece, beige sweater set.  A simple gold chain and matching hoop earrings complimented her outfit.  For a new mother, Justin couldn't help thinking how meticulously she was groomed from her hair neatly swept up into a loose-fitting chignon down to her manicured French nails as she peered back at him curiously.  "Yes?" she asked politely as she stood there appraising him, no doubt thinking he was some kind of salesman or Jehovah's Witness representative.

Justin decided there was no point in beating around the bush.  "I'm looking for my father," he stated simply.

He could see the look of recognition flicker in her eyes now as her mouth opened in surprise.  "Oh!  You're Craig's son; I remember you now.  Justin, right?"   At least there was no sign of contempt in her face as she spoke to him; apparently his father's derision wasn't transferred to her, or she was an excellent actress at hiding it from him.

Justin nodded, unable to plaster any type of smile on his face.  He didn't hate this woman; he really didn't feel anything toward her, because neither she nor her father had ever bothered to let him get to know her, just like they never thought it was important that he get to know his baby half-sister, either.  Normally he would have loved to have met her; now, though, it was as if the baby belonged to a stranger, not to his own father.  "Yes.  Is he here?"

She shook her head and almost seemed apologetic as she told him, "No, I'm sorry; he's still at the store.  Would you like to come in?  I can call him and let him know you're here."

Justin frowned slightly; was this woman serious?  Did she really think his father wanted to see him or that he wanted to come in and wait for him while she played hostess?  Surely his father hadn't kept his opinions about his ‘aberrant' lifestyle to himself.  Her question was almost comical.  He snorted softly, unable to help himself.  "No, thanks," he said coolly.  "I'll go see him myself."  He turned to go but was stopped by her voice.

"Justin?  Wouldn't you like to see your half-sister?"

Justin turned back around to face her, unable to hide his incredulity.  "Are you kidding me?"

She was taken aback by the harsh tone of his voice.  "You did know that your father and I have a baby?  Her name is Cassandra.  Wouldn't you like to meet her?  After all, you are related."  Laurie gave him a nervous half-smile.  "She has the same hair color and eyes as you, in fact."

Justin wasn't sure how to answer this woman.  Was she rational?  "Why would you care?"

She frowned.  "Excuse me?"

"I said... Why would you care if I got to see her or not?  She's what?  Six months old now?"

Laurie looked at him uncomfortably as she fidgeted up and down on the balls of her feet.  "Yes.  I just thought..."

Despite not really knowing this woman at all, to Justin it was all just too much.  "Well, you thought wrong!" he couldn't help retorting as she shrunk back slightly from his vehemence.  "Neither you NOR my so-called father have had anything to do with me for years now!  Why would this be any different?  If you really wanted me in my half-sister's life, you would have called me when she was born and not just offered to let me see her because I just happened to show up on your doorstep!  By the way, did you know?"

Craig's wife furrowed her brow in confusion.  "Know what?" she whispered, struck by the angry, hurt look on her visitor's face.

"Did you know that your bigoted prick of a husband contributed $30,000 to Turner's gubernatorial campaign as a big ‘fuck you' to me and Brian?"

The woman looked at him in shock.  "What are you talking about?"

Justin rolled his eyes; was this woman being kept in the dark, too?  He found that hard to believe, but not entirely impossible.  He did not have the time or the patience to even contemplate it, however; besides, did it really matter?  "You expect me to believe that you weren't aware that your upstanding husband has an offshore account where he has a quarter million dollars stashed in it?  And that he gave $30,000 to a man who's a homophobe and was so desperate to win that he had to use blackmail to try and get it?  That my own father hates my lifestyle so much that he would do anything to prevent my father-in-law from becoming governor?"

Laurie Taylor's eyes threatened to bulge out of her head as she gasped; Craig insisted that she stay home like a dutiful little housewife and mother, even though he constantly groused about not having enough money to live from month to month, while he had a quarter-million dollars hidden off shore?  "I don't believe you," she murmured, her heart dropping.

However, some events that had happened in the past few months were finally beginning to make sense:  how her husband seemed to constantly be on the phone with his accountant, excusing himself from the room as he explained it was some dull, money-crunching conversation; Craig insisting on handling all of their financial matters as he doled out just enough for her to buy their monthly groceries and pay their regular utility expenses, not to mention the occasion a few weeks ago when she had discovered her husband's computer displaying a web page from some bank in the Bahamas while Craig was taking a shower to get ready for work.  At the time she had questioned him about it, only to be cut short by a curt explanation that it was connected to some bigwig supplier who wasn't paying his bills to him on time.   When she had tried to ask how he could even find out any information about another company's financial solvency when it wasn't his own account, Craig had dismissed her question, angrily telling her that she didn't understand his company's client dealings and that they were none of her business and to just stay out of it.

Now, however, everything began to fall into place, and as much as she hated the idea, she had to admit that perhaps this defiant, angry young man standing in front of her might just be right about his accusations.  Her eyes filled with tears of betrayal as she whispered, "No, it can't be true.  He wouldn't do that."

Justin shook his head; either this woman was an amazing actress, or his father had deceived one more person.  He chose to believe the latter as he told her quietly, "Yes, he would; he did.  I saw the proof with my own eyes.  There's irrefutable documentation of it."  He paused for a moment as he gazed into her anguished face and found to his surprise that he felt sorry for her.  "I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he told her softly.  "But it's time you realize what sort of man you're married to.  He's a selfish, hateful, judgmental, bigoted asshole who doesn't give a shit who he hurts in the process, even his own son.  Just pray that your daughter doesn't wind up being a queer or God help her - and God help you."  Without another word, Justin turned and strode down the hallway toward the steps, never looking back and leaving a dumbstruck, heartbroken woman in his wake.

Taylor Electronics Store - Downtown Pittsburgh - 8:30 p.m.

Craig pinched his nose with his fingers in frustration, punching in a key to transfer most of last month's store profits into his offshore account as he sat in front of his laptop at his desk, his face pasty in the white glow of the computer screen.  No matter how many times he keyed in the password, however, the account wouldn't open.  What the fuck was wrong with this bank?  A dimly lit green banker's lamp provided a small amount of light on the corner of his desk, but at this late hour he always preferred to work without the glare of bright illumination, which tended to give him a migraine if he stared at his laptop for too long.  He sighed, feeling the typical eye strain he normally got whenever he stayed over too late at his office.  Despite his company having a record year presently, mainly by purchasing bulk quantities of smart phones and reselling them for ridiculously high profit margins, and his luck playing the horses when he told everyone he was at ‘business meetings,' he was getting weary of constantly having to hide the surplus funds from the Feds.  Worst of all, his wife, Laurie, was starting to get suspicious of all his secretive activities, calling him out on all the times he had to excuse himself to take phone calls and how he immediately turned off the computer monitor to his desktop whenever he was in his home study and she happened to appear in the doorway, as well as the late-night hours he constantly kept at the store.    He had a strong suspicion that his excuse about working on tax-related issues here was beginning to wear thin with her.  Despite bowing to his wish for her to be a stay-at-home mother, she had a college education and wasn't stupid; he knew eventually he would have to come up with a new story to keep her mollified.  For now, though, he was more concerned with simply trying to move his money around and check on his account balance, both of which were proving extremely elusive for him at the moment.

A sharp knock on his office door made him start slightly in irritation; his employees knew better than to bother him when he was working late at night at the store.  He had given them strict instructions not to forward calls, nor interrupt him in any manner while the door was closed.  Not for the first time, he thought about cutting back on his operating hours late at night so this wouldn't even be an issue, but the unorthodox hours that he was openfor business helped fuel his outrageous profits, so he knew that it would be cutting his throat if he did so.

"What is it?" he called out angrily in agitation.  "I told you I did NOT want to be disturbed.  If you don't want to have your ass canned, I suggest you leave NOW."

The door was flung open so violently then that it banged against the opposite wall; Craig's blood ran cold as he instantly recognized who was standing silhouetted in the doorway, the bright glare from the store's showroom lights bathing the slim figure in shadow.  "What are YOU doing here?" he growled as he masked his surprise, feeling a lot less confident than his voice portrayed.

Justin walked slowly toward his father, his hands shaking with anger as they balled into fists.   "This is going to be my last conversation with you," he quietly vowed to his father as he walked up to stand next to his old, cumbersome, oak desk.  The desk used to belong to his grandfather, who used to be an accountant in a major brokerage firm for thirty years.  How he missed seeing him!  Robert Taylor had been a wise, fair, and kind man; if he were here now, Justin had no doubt that he would be feeling the same sort of anger and indignation that he was feeling.  His grandfather, who died of a massive heart attack ten years ago, wouldn't have given a shit what his sexual orientation was.  He had always taken everyone at their word and based his opinion of them on what sort of character they had, not on who they loved.  How his own father could have fallen so far from the family tree, then, was astounding and unfathomable to him.  But he had.  And now it was up to him to sever this damaging, hurtful link once and for all and concentrate on the part of his family that did accept him.  "I know what you did," he told Craig with quiet determination as he stared down into the other face unflinchingly.  Inside, though, his stomach was churning with revulsion for what his father had become and his heart was beating furiously.

Craig brushed his hand through his hair, feeling the painful throbbing coming from a vein in his head; the dull ache was quickly deteriorating into a full-blown migraine as he closed the lid to his laptop to buy a little time.  "What the fuck are you prattling on about, Justin?" he countered wearily.  "I'm a busy man; I don't have time for this mumbo-jumbo from you."

"Working on the books, Dad?" Justin inquired as his eyes bored into his.  "It's not easy hiding all that money from everyone, including your own wife, is it?  Or from Mom, either."

Craig's heart began to pound as he tried furiously to maintain a neutral expression on his face; he could feel a cold sweat beading on his forehead as he retorted, "I have no idea what you're talking about.   Now will you kindly leave my office before I have to call security - again - to throw you out?"  Was it possible that his son actually knew something, or was he just guessing and being incredibly lucky?

Justin's eyes watered despite his best intentions over his father's callous treatment of him as if he were the lowest scum on Earth as he told him, "I know about all the money, Dad!  I know you aren't about to go under!  I KNOW!  I know you're hiding a quarter-million dollars in the Caribbean!  And soon everyone else will know, too!"  He pressed his lips tightly together to compose himself, watching his father's face pale as he couldn't help asking mournfully, "Why, Dad?  Why did you feel like you needed to hide it?  And how long have you been doing it?  Just in the past few years after you divorced Mom?  Or was it before that, when I needed tuition money and you kept telling Mom and me that you couldn't afford to give me any?  How long has this been fucking going on, huh?"  He braced both arms on the table as he stared down at his father.  "Tell me, damn it!"

Craig's eyes widened.  Obviously, his son DID know something.  But how?  And worse, what would happen if everyone else knew?  "How... How did you find this out?" he finally sputtered, realizing it was probably fruitless to try and lie about it but not knowing just how much Justin DID know.  He smirked back at him.  "Besides, you can't prove anything, Justin; it would be your word against mine, and..."

"... And no one would believe a faggot like me?  Is that it, Dad?  Is that what you were going to say?  Well, I've got news for you, Mr. Big Shot!  There's proof!  Written proof of what you've done!  Down to what bank account you have the money in and the $30,000 that you gave to that asshole Turner's campaign!"  Justin could see the blood drain out of his father's face as he continued, "And don't think, by the way, that you can just close the account down now and hide it somewhere else!  Oh, you can take it out, I suppose, but that won't hide your tracks, Dad!  You always were deficient when it came to computer expertise!  Besides, there's already a printout of all your activity.  It won't be long now before the Election Fraud Commission gets a copy of it.  So enjoy your money now while you can, Dad, because it won't do you much fucking good in prison!"  All of his anger and anguish came flowing out of him as Justin gazed down in disgust at the man he used to revere and admire, and yes, love.  All that had evaporated now and seemed like so long ago.

Craig's face was contorted with rage and contempt.  "You little ungrateful shit!" he yelled as he pushed his chair back and stood up eye to eye with his son, his face red with fury.  "How DARE you?  How dare you interfere with my life?  What have you done, Justin?  I can't even get into the fucking account now, thanks to you!"  He huffed loudly.  "This is all HIS fault - him and that queer father!" Craig spat out.  "Ever since you met Kinney, he has done nothing but ruin your life!  Don't you see that?  And now he's out to ruin mine!"

Justin laughed at the absurdity of his father's statement as he stood up straighter and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand.  "No, Dad!  What I see is a man who loves me for who I am!  A man who respects me and supports me and stands by whatever I decide!  Someone who has never failed to be there when I needed him! Which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for YOU!   Brian and Fin are much more a part of my ‘family' than you will ever be!"

Craig squared his jaw.  "That's not true, Justin, and you know it!  What happened to you?  What happened to the son that I used to be so proud of?"

Justin's eyes filled with tears.  "Your son didn't die, Dad! I'm right here!  He grew up!  But if you can't accept me for who I am, then YOU'RE the sorry one!  And it's just too damned bad!"   He swallowed hard as he shook his head.  "I might as WELL be dead to you, though," he told him sadly.  "I AM dead to you as far as you're concerned, aren't I?  Well, you know what?  I actually feel sorry for you!  I PITY you!  And I pity your wife and your new baby, because they're the ones who will have to pick up the pieces now.  And one more thing... Going forward the feeling's mutual; you're dead to me now, too."

Craig's eyes darkened with hatred.  "Get out of here, Justin!  You are NOTHING to me now, do you understand?  You're NOTHING!"  In a fit of fury, Craig abruptly took his hand and swept everything off from the top of his desk, including his laptop, which crashed to the hardwood floor with a resounding clatter.  "Now get the hell out before I throw you out myself!"

Justin closed his eyes for a couple of second as pain washed over him.  "I won't give you that pleasure, you son of a bitch; I'm going."  Forcing his legs to move, he whirled around and walked toward the door.  Just before he left, however, he turned around to face the broken shell that was once his father, his idol; his mentor and guide.  Now all he saw was a bitter, battered, and frightened old man.  Justin blew out a tension-filled breath as he said quietly, "Goodbye, Dad."

As he left the office and began to head toward the steps taking him down to the main showroom, his father's enraged voice could be heard shouting after him.  "Don't ever come back here, Justin!  You're dead to me!  You hear me - DEAD!  You're sick!  I never want to see you ever again!"

He was still shouting at the top of his lungs as Justin, face burning with embarrassment over the looks customers as well as employees were giving him, rushed toward the door, knowing he would never step foot in that space ever again; nor would he ever see - or talk - to the man that he used to idolize and look up to.  His composure and pride that propped him up lasted as long as the front door; as soon as he flung it open and felt the coolness of the night air enveloping him, his face clouded over and the tears began to fall in earnest over what he had lost and would never regain.  Only the open arms of his husband unexpectedly leaning against his ‘Vette while waiting for him by the curb saved him from sinking to his knees and mourning what he had lost forever.

Brian's heart ached as the man he loved more than his own life stumbled out of Craig Taylor's store.  It had been sheer luck that he chose to come here rather than drive to the asshole's condo first; as soon as he spied Justin's SUV stationed in the fairly empty, side parking lot, he knew he had picked the right place.  Then it had taken every ounce of willpower and self-discipline he had inside him not to go rushing into the building and pull Justin back out, because he knew, he just knew, that this would be an emotional blow that would strike deeply, despite what the man had done to him over the past several years. Because when it was all said and done, the man was still Justin's father, and Brian was now beginning to understand what a strong tie that word could conjure up.  Before he had met Fin, it would have never resonated with him, but now he understood how it could feel to invest your emotions, trust, and faith in someone that you thought loved you, only to have it yanked out from underneath you.  Now, after meeting his real father, a man who he had come to admire and respect, he knew how HE would feel if the same thing ever happened to him.

It hadn't taken Brian long to decide after Justin left Britin that he had to come back into town and be there for him when he needed him.  Now, as Justin's red-rimmed, glistening eyes lifted to meet his and he watched him force his legs to move toward him, he knew he had made the right decision.

Justin had never been more relieved to see Brian than he did at that moment; how did he know how much he would need him?  He didn't care, though; the important thing was that he did, and it gave him just enough residual inner strength to propel himself into Brian's open arms as his husband met him halfway and swept him up against his chest into a tight hug.  "Brian," Justin breathed out as if he was just now getting oxygen back into his lungs.  "Brian..."

"Shhh," Brian whispered back against the top of his head as he held onto Justin's trembling body protectively.  Justin was normally such a strong, determined presence; for him to become so clingy all of a sudden must be a testament to how devastating his meeting with his prick of a father must have been.  "Everything's going to be okay.  I've got you, Sunshine," he vowed softly as he felt Justin's hands slide around his back in response.  They just stood there in the coolness of the evening, the streetlamp above and the storefront's neon letters providing the majority of illumination now.  He was dying to know what had happened between Justin and his father, but for now he knew it wasn't the time to ask.  Justin would tell him everything he needed to know when the time was right.  For now, he did what he knew Justin needed most; silently hold his husband and let him know that he WAS loved and cherished, despite what his monster of a father had done.

From his large picture window above the store, Craig Taylor knocked back a large swig of whiskey from his shot glass as he watched his son and his husband (the word almost made him vomit) embracing in front of his store.  His face darkened with rage; he was ‘this close' to calling the police to report them, but realistically he knew the police had quickly grown weary of all the calls he constantly made to them complaining about all the demonstrations the queers seem to delight in performing on the sidewalk in front of his store and he knew they would probably tell him the same thing he had been told before:  as long as the ‘demonstrators' were on a public sidewalk and not impeding others from entering his store, there was nothing they could do about it.  He finished off the rest of his liquor before slamming the glass down onto his wet bar, wondering now what in the hell he was going to do.  If everything Justin said was true - about the documentation he had - he was as good as convicted already.  As a business owner, he knew all too well the pitfalls of hiding money offshore and the risks of contributing funds to a political candidate that went above the legal limits.  He had taken the risk anyway on both counts, somehow deluding himself into thinking he would be the one that wouldn't get caught, and now it had all blown up in his face.  Shit.  Bile rose into his throat at the thought of being publicly humiliated now; and worse of all, it would be done by the very people he despised and detested.  Where was justice in the world when a bunch of immoral fags could hold his fate in their hands?  How did he let this happen?  Closing his eyes briefly in dread, he opened them just in time to see his now ex-son and Kinney walk toward a sports car parked nearby.  He watched through hooded eyes as he held the passenger door open for Justin and closed it behind him before walking around to the driver's side door and sliding in behind the wheel.  He saw Kinney lean over toward the passenger seat briefly - God only knows what he was doing, but he guessed he was actually kissing Justin in the car in front of his store! - before the car slowly pulled out into traffic and was enveloped by the darkness.

The realization of what he was no doubt about to lose - both personally and financially - welled up inside of him just before he picked up the now empty, crystal-glass liquor decanter and, grasping it by the narrow neck, reared his hand back and threw it violently against the far wall, the container splintering into a thousand pieces.  Walking over to his desk a few seconds later, he picked up the receiver off the floor to his landline phone and dialed his attorney's personal phone number.

"Kevin?  Craig Taylor."  Craig said down on the edge of his desk and took a deep breath before he began, "I... I need to talk to you right away."

Justin was inexplicably quiet as they drove on into the night, Brian stealing furtive glances over at his husband periodically but receiving nothing in reaction.  At least not for a few minutes; Justin kept his gaze turned toward the passenger side window, his forehead leaning against the coolness of the glass as Brian steered the car toward their destination.  He finally couldn't stand it any longer, reaching his hand over to take Justin's in his; he was heartened when Justin curled his fingers over his hand in response and squeezed it firmly.  He thought he heard a soft sigh escape Justin's lips then, but he couldn't be sure over the steady thrumming of the car's powerful engine.

Finally, after he made a left turn a few blocks down, Justin turned his head to peer over at him.  "Where are we going?" he whispered, his voice low, hoarse, and raspy.  He knew this wasn't the way back to the main road toward Britin.

"I told everyone to stay back at home and just relax, even stay the night if they wanted to," Brian informed him softly.  "But we're staying at the loft tonight."  At that moment, he was glad that he had chosen not to sell his city residence; he had always thought it was a good idea to keep it for the times when he was too busy working late into the night at Kinnetik and needed a quick place to crash for a few hours and get cleaned up before heading back in.  He never thought, however, that it might be needed one day for a sanctuary for his husband, but that was the way he thought of it right now.  Somehow it seemed right that the place where he and Justin had forged so many memories, and the first place where they had made love, would also be the ideal destination to repair someone's damaged heart and soul.  "Is that all right with you?" he asked Justin tentatively, knowing if his husband objected strenuously to the idea he would take him back home to Britin, or wherever else he wanted to be.

He glanced to the road before turning back to peer over into Justin's eyes now as Justin nodded.  "Yeah... It's more than okay," he told him.  "I... I just want to be alone tonight - with you."

Brian smiled over at him tenderly as he gave Justin's hand a squeeze of his own and nodded, turning his attention back to the road.

Spooned up against Justin in bed after a frantic round of lovemaking earlier, Brian slowly caressed the soft skin of Justin's shoulder as his thumb rubbed small circles back and forth on the warm, smooth flesh; his left leg was tangled up with his husband's shorter ones as they lay close together, side by side.  All the pain, sorrow, and hurt seemed to flow out of Justin earlier as he met Brian's body thrust for thrust; Brian's intention to go slow and sweet with his lover had quickly escalated into a more hectic, passionate, almost violent coupling, no doubt spurred on by Justin's encounter earlier with his father.  It was almost as if his husband was trying to let all of his negative emotions erupt outward and needed that rough edge to purge himself of the darkness inside.  Brian hadn't questioned his actions as he had kept pace with him, nor did he push him to explain, merely deciding to serve in whatever role Justin needed him to play at the time.

Now he could hear his husband's soft, steady breathing by his side, but he knew instinctively that he wasn't asleep.  Not that they both weren't emotionally as well as physically spent by the day's events, but he just knew Justin's mind had to be too engrossed with the earlier confrontation with his father to be at peace enough for sleep to overtake him.  "Justin?" he whispered softly as he continued to slowly rub his shoulder lovingly.

Justin sighed almost imperceptibly, a mournful sort of breath, before he turned to lie flat on his back and peer up into the concerned eyes of his soulmate.   He reached up to lightly stroke Brian's cheek with the back of his hand as Brian captured it in his and brought both up to his mouth to gently kiss Justin's knuckles before he brought them down to rest casually on Justin's chest.  "You want to talk about it?" he asked him quietly.

Justin licked his lips and then bit the lower one in contemplation before he let out a tense breath; Brian couldn't help thinking that even in his state of anxiety, with his freshly-fucked, sweaty skin and his tousled golden hair, Justin was so beautiful to him, inside as well as out, and he couldn't stop thinking what a lucky bastard he was to have someone like this beautiful man as his husband.  "Talk to me, Justin," he implored gently.

Justin sighed again.  "There's really not much to tell, Brian.  It was just like I thought it would be.  I went to his condo first and ran into his new wife, who apparently didn't know what he had been doing.  At least if she did, she was one hell of a good actress.  I really don't think she knew about the money he had been hiding."  He snorted slightly in irony.  "She even asked me if I wanted to meet my half-sister; can you believe it?"

He shook his head in disbelief.  "I turned that down," he said as he rolled his eyes.  "I told her it was a little too late to worry about meeting the newest addition to the family now.  Anyway, she told me he was working late at the store, so I headed over there, but not before telling her everything I knew and that there was written proof of it, too."  He paused.  "I don't think she was too happy when I left."

"I guess not," Brian replied softly, not wanting to say too much.  He waited for Justin to continue, knowing not to press him too hard.  "Do you think she called him to warn him you were coming?"

Justin frowned.  "You know, I don't think she did.  Not from the reaction he had to me when I knocked on his office door anyway.  He thought I was one of the employees interrupting him.   And he did yell out something about not wanting to be disturbed, so maybe she did try to call but couldn't get through.   He certainly acted shocked enough when I opened the door and he recognized who it was."

Brian gazed down into the troubled, blue eyes, knowing how painful it must be for Justin to relive what had happened.   But he also knew Justin NEEDED to talk and he needed to share his pain with him.  In an odd way, he found that to be quite an honor.  He didn't say anything, but rather waited for Justin to take a breath and continue.

"He was working on his laptop when I came in," Justin said, his eyes looking straight ahead and not focusing on anything in particular.  No doubt the earlier events were swirling around in his mind.  "I told him right off the bat that I knew.  I knew all about the money he was hiding and about the campaign contribution.  And you know what?" he asked, his eyes coming back to focus on Brian's face.  "He didn't even try to deny it!  He just told me I couldn't prove anything."  He smiled to himself.  "You should have seen his face, though, when I told him about the documentation.  He turned about two shades whiter than normal."  Justin's brow knitted in thought.  "You know, he told me he wasn't able to access the account, and he accused me of tampering with hit.  Do you have any idea why that would be?"

Brian's eyes widened.  "Boy, Danny the Dick's hacker friend works fast!  He left not too long after you did, after telling us that he was going to work on getting that account frozen.  Looks like he managed to succeed before you got to your father's store to confront him.  That probably explains why he couldn't access it.  Danny was afraid he would try to pull all the money out before his activities could be reported to the Feds.  There still would have been an electronic fingerprint of anything he had done, but it's a lot easier to prove what your father did if the money is still in there."

Justin nodded in understanding.  "Well, he wasn't too happy about it."  He gazed into Brian's eyes.  "Of course, he blamed everything on you - you and your father - and how you had corrupted me from the first day we had met."

Brian's eyes flashed.  "That same old shit?  The least he could do is come up with a different tactic.  Justin, he's fighting back the only way he knows how with that righteous, holier-than-thou bullshit that he's always used.  You know that."  He slowly caressed Justin's hand with his thumb soothingly in reassurance.

Justin nodded.  "I know.  And I told him that you and Fin were much more my family than he would ever be.  I told him, too, that it would be the last conversation I would ever have with him, or the last time I would ever see him again.  I... I told him that from now on, he was dead to me and that I actually pitied him."  Justin swallowed hard as he felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes.  He lifted his gaze to stare into Brian's loving face as he whispered back in a shaky voice, "But it still hurts, Brian.  It still fucking hurts."

Brian pulled him then into his arms as they rocked slowly back and forth together.  He heard Justin's breath hitch in a sort of sob as he told him softly, "I know, Sunshine.  I know it does."  They stayed locked in a tight embrace for several seconds before Justin broke off slightly to peer up into his husband's strong, handsome face.  He leaned up to kiss Brian's lips gently as he whispered against his mouth, "Make love to me, Brian.  Help me to forget.  Just for tonight - help me to stop thinking about what I've lost and remind me of the blessings that I have instead."

Brian pulled back to stare into the bright, blue eyes as he nodded.  Leaning in to kiss him again softly, he gently pushed Justin down onto his back again, his hands beginning a slow, sensual exploration all over Justin's body.  "You never have to ask me that," Brian murmured as he began to show Justin just how much he did love him.