Taking Stock

Taking Stock

Chapter 9

By Mark Corlis

Copyright 2009

All Rights Reserved

This is a copyrighted work, and the author retains all rights. Reproductions of nay kind, except those by the Nifty Alliance, are strictly prohibited without my express written consent.

The usual disclaimers apply. I'm tired of typing them out!

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Hello again my loyal readers and welcome to chapter 9 of my saga!

This chapter was originally double this size, but I took the advice of my crack editing team and split it into two distinct parts. Chapter 10 will be following soon, so keep an eye out for it.

Thanks to my ace editor, Wayne. You are a man among men and I can't begin to express my sincere thanks for your efforts. Without you, I'd come off as more of a novice than I already am!

Mark and Gabriella.....your ideas have made me think in directions I never considered. Keep your visions coming and know that you're a tremendous part of this effort.

Thanks to everyone who commented! As usual, I'm behind in responding, but I'll get caught up soon. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I love reading what you have to say!

mcnc1966@gmail.com

Without further delay, I give you the next installment.

Mark

Chapter 9

The room was filled with the sound of camera shutters clicking and reporters talking to their producers. Members of the press jockeyed for the best possible position so their questions would be answered first. Their attention was focused on a small stage that held a simple podium with a plethora of microphones attached to it by the various news personnel present. The conference had been set up in another room, but response had been so huge that it had to be moved to a much larger space. This caused delays and made the assembled crowd become impatient. Behind a door to the right of the stage, it caused nervousness for the man that everyone had come to listen to.

Jordan Maxwell paced back and forth slowly along a line in the carpet. Three months had passed since his lawsuits had been filed, and many things had happened since then. For one, the restrictive casts he wore on his left arm and leg were gone, but he still walked with a slight limp. Hours of grueling physical therapy had nearly eliminated it, but he still had a long way to go. When all the legal wrangling started, Jordan decided to remain focused on his recovery and refused all requests for interviews. Today was his first communication with the media and they were hungry to hear his story. The circumstances of that story had changed quite a bit since he'd filed his suits.

The most striking difference was that he was the lone plaintiff now. Charles Sweeney, the young man who'd brought out his courage and gave him the strength to do what needed to be done, was gone. He'd been found dead in his apartment three weeks after the start of all this, and his death was ruled a suicide. The information surrounding his demise was sketchy, so nobody on the team could say with any certainty what happened. He'd left a note, but his family had chosen not to release its contents. Jordan took his death hard, and nearly abandoned his thirst for justice. In the end, though, the loving support of those around him made him more determined than ever to continue his quest. Charlie's voice would be heard in court, however, as Thad Barber had convinced the presiding judge to allow his video deposition to be admitted as evidence.

Jordan was also facing counter suits filed by Gardener, Rollins and their firm. They accused him of lying under oath and besmirching their solid reputations. Ben Dyer assured him that they were nuisance charges at best, designed to cloud the issues and throw mud on his claims. He still worried about them, though, and had lost many hours of sleep considering their consequences. He'd watched many interviews with the two men where they'd denied the allegations and painted Jordan as a money hungry, vindictive homosexual. With Charlie gone, they were free to make false claim after false claim without rebuttal, a major reason Jordan stood where he did today. Rollins' arrogance had helped them, actually. He'd made several off color remarks publicly, stirring the ire of not only gay rights groups, but of organizations that championed civil liberties. In an unprecedented move, these two factions had banded together and held large protests outside Stephenson's offices on a daily basis. The press, of course, followed their moves in sickening detail, advancing Jordan's portrayal as a victim in the arena of public opinion.

The protests had proved to be a public relations nightmare for the firm. As things heated up, they'd been hired to represent Lithia Financial, a large regional bank, in its bid to defeat a takeover bid from the much larger Groener Bank, one of Germany's most prestigious and profitable institutions. The people at Lithia were very conservative, becoming dismayed at all the adverse attention being paid to their long time investment bankers. At their urging, the partners had quietly floated several large settlement offers to Jordan. Since they refused to make changes necessary to prevent situations like his from happening again, they were rejected without further consideration. As Groener's offer for the target firm increased, so had the public pressure on Stephenson.

Thad Barber was the shining star through all this. He followed the acquisition attempt with zeal, offering statements to the press at every development. The board of Lithia was so unnerved that they met with him privately. Though he revealed no specific details, his statements had left the directors divided. Some wanted the firm's services terminated immediately, while others insisted on the status quo. The one thing they all agreed on was this case was big enough that it could cause a distraction to their desperate effort to remain independent. As a hedge against this threat, they hired another prominent investment bank to co-manage their defense. It was a humbling blow to the once proud firm, one Thad was only too happy to share comments about. The press was equally happy to publish those comments, drawing some sharp remarks from key people at Stephenson. The words were bitter and clearly showed the sheer arrogance of the firm's partners. Rumors of internal strife within the firm abounded, but no one had stepped forward to publicly confirm them.

With thoughts of all this banging around in his head, Jordan paced along that line in the carpet, keeping his head down as he moved. His stomach felt queasy, like it could spill what little was in it at any second. He trembled involuntarily and felt sweat dripping from his underarms. Thinking he might pass out, he moved to a wall and placed his head against one of his arms. While he took deep breaths, a pair of strong arms snaked around him from behind.

"How you holding up?" Taylor asked, nuzzling his lover's neck.

"I've been better," Jordan admitted. Turning to face Taylor, he buried his face in his man's chest and wrapped both arms around him. "Tell me again why I agreed to do this."

"As I recall, you said you'd been silent long enough and couldn't stand watching those bastards make one more unanswered statement," Taylor said.

"Oh yeah, that," Jordan responded. He moved tighter against Taylor, enabling the man to feel the tension in his muscles. It reminded him of how Jordan reacted to the news he was meeting Lila for the first time.

Taking Jordan's face in his hands, Taylor brought it upward until their eyes met. "We've still got some time before this thing starts, so walk with me." Hand in hand, he led them to a small waiting room and closed the door, giving them a place to hideout for a little while. He took a seat on a couch, pulling Jordan down until he was comfortably situated on his lap. Taylor held him tight and kissed the top of his head.

"You don't have to do this anymore," Taylor said. "We have a great life together now and I know all this crap is killing you. Say the word and it's over."

Jordan sighed. "You have no idea how enticing that offer is, but I just can't. Thad says there's another settlement offer coming, and I'm tempted to take it. If it's like the others, though, I need to stay the course. If I don't, then all those things they've been saying about me will be true." He felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"It's your call, baby. No matter what you decide, you know I'm right here by your side and I love you more everyday," Taylor told him.

Jordan turned and kissed his man's lips, allowing his tongue to playfully slip into Taylor's mouth for just a second. "I love you too, and your support means the world to me. I just want this to be over so we can go on with our lives. I miss doing things together." His impaired physical state and the lawsuits had precluded them from doing many things, a condition that added to the stress in their lives considerably.

"Soon, baby, this will all be a distant memory and we can go back to focusing on you and me," Taylor reassured him.

"I hope so, Taylor," Jordan said wishfully. "This has been a part of our lives for too long and I want it over."

Before another word was spoken, their private time was interrupted by a knock at the door. A lump formed in Jordan's throat as he figured the start of the press conference had come. Rising from Taylor's lap, he moved to the door slowly and opened it. A man clad in a black suit with a starched white shirt and a dark tie stood before him. His hair was gelled into a conservative style and his wing tip shoes had the required tassels. Jordan fought back his laughter as he addressed the visitor.

"Who are you and what have you done with my friend?" he asked.

"Eat me, bitch," Vin replied, pushing passed him and into the room. Jordan's contained giggles burst free as he chuckled at his flamboyant friend's new look.

"My, my, aren't we a vision of sartorial splendor," Taylor kidded. "Have you been fundraising for the Republican Party these days?"

Vin cast a look of disdain upon him. "Taylor, if I want any shit from you, I'll squeeze your head." The smart remark caused both him and Jordan to roar, tears streaming down their cheeks. It was just the release both needed.

"Is there something we can help you with, Mr. Fallwell?" Jordan joked, adding fuel to their laughter fest.

"I'll have you know that I'm dressed like a funeral director at your attorney's request. It seems he thinks my usual attire might attract some unwanted attention from that merry band of morality police you're suing. I must love him to do something this extreme," Vin said.

Jordan stopped cracking up and looked at his friend seriously. "Jesus, I'm sorry Vin. I didn't mean for this to affect you too."

Vin put his hand on Jordan's shoulder. "Don't sweat it, boy. I think I can survive for a few more hours, barely. Besides, it'll be fun to exact my price from Thad for all this."

Everyone chuckled as they pictured the hell Thad stood to endure, but Jordan returned to being uptight quickly. "Still, this shit is making all of us change into something we're not and it's killing me. It needs to end, and end really soon!"

"Well, you might just get your wish about part of that. My husband dispatched me to tell you that they're ready to start this little wing ding, so we need to take our places," Vin informed them.

Jordan stiffened and became visibly pale. The moment he'd dreaded was here after all and his angst mounted. Taylor moved behind him again, massaging his shoulders.

"You're gonna knock em dead, baby. Just tell your story and don't worry about making it sound fancy. You're on the right side of this issue and the press knows that," he assured Jordan.

"We'll see in a few minutes," Jordan said warily. He wrapped the men in a quick group hug and led them out the door. They found Thad anxiously awaiting them. He could tell that Jordan was nervous, and pulled him aside for a last minute pep talk.

"You ready?" he asked his client.

"As I'll ever be, I suppose," Jordan replied with a cracking voice.

Thad gave him a comforting smile. "Relax, Jordan. Everyone here was invited to attend because they've been sympathetic to our position. Security has held the uninvited reporters outside, so nobody's going to fry you with a left field question. Keep your answers short and to the point, but don't be vague. If you're asked something that shouldn't be answered, I'll interrupt and move things onto a different topic. Got it?"

"Got it," Jordan agreed. He felt better knowing the lawyer was there to protect him.

"I'm going to go in now and say a few words, then I'll introduce you. Read your prepared remarks and then we'll take questions. If I don't interject, and you still don't want to answer, just give a no comment and move on."

Jordan nodded as he watched the double doors to the room open. His heart beat hard and fast as Thad assumed center stage.

"Good afternoon, everyone. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Thaddeus Barber, attorney of record for Jordan Maxwell in his claims against Stephenson & Company, James Gardener, and Edward Rollins. Until now, my client has chosen to remain silent while the defendants have masterminded a smear campaign against him. As of this moment, that ends. Mr. Maxwell will read some prepared remarks and then take questions from the field. You will be called upon to ask them, so don't yell and scream or this meeting will end immediately. Now that we understand the rules, allow me to introduce Jordan Maxwell."

Taking a deep breath, Jordan strode toward the podium. Cameras clicked furiously and blinding flashes went off in succession. He reached the lectern shortly, spread his speech out and took a generous sip of water from a glass in front of him. With all eyes upon him, Jordan began speaking.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Jordan Maxwell and I'm the victim in the case you've all written so much about. I've chosen not to speak until now because I was recovering from physical injuries sustained in a recent accident. The egregious statements made have forced to me out speak out and tell my story. It is my hope that everyone will see that the rude and insulting remarks made publicly by Misters Gardener and Rollins are totally false. As a man of honor and integrity, I can no longer stand idly by while my character is assassinated. To understand my plight, you need to know the events of the past."

"I worked as an analyst's assistant at Stephenson right out of college, and received glowing appraisals of my performance. It seemed I had a prosperous future ahead of me until a series of events led Edward Rollins to change all that. I was involved in a short term relationship with someone at a competing firm. This person unknowingly revealed intimate details of our time together to a colleague, who has admitted sharing those facts with Mr. Rollins. He, with James Gardener's approval, began a calculated campaign to defile my constitutionally protected civil rights."

"It began with my transfer to the trading area directly under Rollins' supervision. I was regularly subjected to slurs that belittled who I am. At first I let the comments roll off, but they became more stinging, so much so that I nearly resigned over them. One day, I was called into Rollins' office and shown a computer printout of an illegal trade I'd supposedly made, a record our expert has since proven was doctored, I might add. He threatened me with legal action, telling me the firm would turn over the facts to the SEC and cooperate in the punitive case against me. I was new to this world and panicked, fearing I would lose my license or, worse, end up in jail. I defended myself and denied his allegations, but he told me the records spoke for themselves. He proposed a deal that would spare me any legal troubles, one I hastily agreed to in fear. What the proposal entailed was unconscionable and illegal."

Jordan paused momentarily, battling back his burgeoning tears and affirming his inner strength.

"I was required to become an entertainer for clients he selected. I met them at various places and was forced to perform a range of demeaning sexual acts. For two months, I was Rollins' personal prostitute and it took a huge toll on my mental health. When I couldn't take it anymore, I allowed the firm to dismiss me and joined another. As I tried to reassemble my life and dignity, Rollins filed lesser charges against me with the SEC, resulting in an administrative warning against my license. I was so beaten down that I didn't care. I was determined to go on with my life and forget that all of this ever happened."

"It wasn't until I met Charles Sweeney, my deceased co-plaintiff, that I realized my error. My refusal to take action let him fall into the same trap, and I knew it couldn't be allowed to happen again. His death is a direct result of what he endured, and I intend to follow through with my attempt to punish those involved. Nothing like this can ever repeat itself. I've turned down several generous settlement offers because the firm and its partners categorically refuse to make fundamental changes to ensure that all employees are afforded protection from situations like mine. For the record, I will reject any overture that does not reflect the company's commitment to these changes."

"In conclusion, I'd like to thank everyone for allowing me to speak and I hope you understand the issues more clearly."

Thad moved to the podium as a gaggle of questions erupted from the crowd. He pointed at a young lady in the front row, and asked everyone to quiet down while her inquiry was addressed.

"Mr. Maxwell, are you a homosexual?" she asked.

"That's immaterial," Thad interrupted. Jordan put his hand up and faced the reporter directly.

"I'd like to answer that one. Yes, I'm gay and I'm not ashamed of it. My sexual orientation doesn't change the fact that rights guaranteed me as an American citizen have been violated."

"Is there any truth to the rumor that you're involved in a relationship with Taylor Bryant, a former top partner at Stephenson?" she followed up with.

"Yes," Jordan confirmed. "We've been in a committed relationship for some time now."

"Is it true that Mr. Bryant left the firm in protest of these events?" a young black reporter asked.

"I can't comment on that," Jordan responded.

"I can," Taylor announced as he moved to Jordan's side onstage. The young man viewed him with wonder as he addressed the journalist's question.

"That's absolutely true. Mr. Rollins and Mr. Gardener toasted their hideous accomplishment at a partners' lunch the day following Mr. Maxwell's dismissal. As a homosexual myself, I couldn't work somewhere that penalized its staff members for reasons that had nothing to do with ability or performance."

"So you can verify the claims Mr. Maxwell alleges?" another reporter asked.

"Of course," Taylor replied. "I filed an affidavit with my attorney that day and have since sat for a deposition where I recounted the events in detail."

"Mr. Maxwell, do you intend to allow this case to go to trial?" someone asked.

"If that's what's required, then yes, we'll go to trial. If the firm was willing to lay out definitive guarantees that changes will be made, including the dismissal of their current officers, then we might entertain settlement offers," he said.

"Do you hope to become an inspirational symbol to the nation's gay rights movements?" a reporter from a national gay publication asked.

"I'm nobody special," Jordan answered. "If my actions protect others in similar situations going forward, then I've accomplished what I set out to do. Once this case is over, I hope to return to an anonymous life."

"Jim Gardener claims that he had no knowledge of and didn't directly participate in acts against you. Can you comment on this?" came from the floor.

Thad moved to the microphone. "I'll comment on that. Through discovery, we have established a definitive link between Mr. Gardener and these sickening events. He had complete knowledge of the details and was an accessory to carrying them out. His claims of innocence are completely false."

"Mr. Maxwell, do you still work in the financial industry?"

"I work for Mr. Bryant part time at the moment. I spend most of my day with a physical therapist trained by the Marquis de Sade himself," Jordan quipped.

The crowd laughed at his humorous statement. An older reporter from a magazine aligned with fringe Christian groups pushed forward and hurled an angry question at Jordan.

"Mr. Maxwell, isn't it a fact that you've taken on this case to validate your sinful lifestyle and reap a massive financial reward at the expense of a respectable corporation?"

Thad motioned to security immediately. "Remove this man, please," he ordered as several large uniformed men approached.

"You and those like you are an abomination. You'll spend eternity in hell for living against God!" he railed as the guards forcefully removed him from the room.

"I apologize for that interruption," Thad said to the press corps.

Jordan was stunned to say the least, but a vicious anger burned inside him. "You see, it's attitudes like his that allow crimes such as the ones committed against me to happen. If we spent more time caring about each other as people and not so much time persecuting those that were different, then this case would be history and I wouldn't be standing here answering your ridiculous questions." Tears of frustration began to fall despite his attempts to restrain them.

Taylor stepped closer and put his arm around Jordan. "I'd like to add something. It's public knowledge that I come from a wealthy family and have my own considerable resources. Since Jordan and I are life partners, what's mine is his as well, so he has no need of a huge cash windfall. I think I can say with certainty that his reasons are much more basic and totally honorable."

Jordan smiled fondly at Taylor as Thad called for the last question. "What do you intend do with any monies you receive should you win your case, Mr. Maxwell?" the blonde reporter from earlier asked.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, "but whatever I do will have a positive impact on the greatest number of people possible!"

"That's it, folks." Thad said quickly. "We'll speak to you again when this is over."

He pushed Jordan and Taylor forward, motioning for them to move back through the side doors. They did so, retreating to the small room they'd come from. Vin waited for them inside.

"You were amazing!" he gushed to Jordan. "I can't believe how well you dealt with that freak! You should be damn proud of yourself, Jordan."

Jordan fell onto the couch, loosening his tie and undoing his shirt's top button. "Where the fuck did that asshole come from?" he asked.

"Sorry about that. A hotel employee mistakenly let him in. I didn't see that one coming," Thad confessed. "Vin's right, though. You handled it better than any of us could."

"Thanks, but I don't want to go through that again. I just want my life back," Jordan said. Taylor sat down next to him, a large smile of pride on his face.

"Like I said, baby, say the word and we walk away from all this," he reminded Jordan. "I've got to admit, though, you were awfully sexy taking charge of things like you did."

Jordan chuckled. "You're sick, but thank you." He pecked his man on the lips as Thad's cell phone rang. The attorney stepped away to take the call once he realized who who it was. After speaking for several minutes, he came back to let Jordan know what he'd just been informed of.

"Jordan, that was Jed Neville, Stephenson's lead counsel. He's got another settlement proposal and he's waiting outside. If you're up to it, I'll go get him and we'll listen to what he has to say."

Jordan rolled his eyes. "Do we have to? Can't you just handle it?"

"I could," Thad answered, "but you'll have to hear about it eventually since the final decision is yours. You might as well get it over with now."

"Fine," Jordan sighed. "Bring him in." Thad nodded. He went out and returned a short while later with the man who masterminded the counter suits against Jordan.

He was a short man who was totally bald on top, leaving only a ring of thin hair around his head. He wore a dark suit with a white shirt and red tie, prerequisite attire for someone seeking to exude an air of power. Jordan found it ironic that he had an American flag pin on his lapel, since he was trying to validate his client's violation of a person's constitutional rights. After introductions were made, they sat down and got right to business.

"Mr. Maxwell, my client has determined that you've gotten in over your head in leveling these charges," he began in an arrogant manner. "Nobody wants this frivolous matter to continue, so we've decided to make our best offer to dispense with these unpleasantries." Jordan bristled at the intonation, but backed down when Thad cast him a serious glance.

"My client has authorized me to offer you a cash payment in the amount of ten million dollars. Additionally, they will contribute one hundred thousand dollars to three rights groups of your choice and publicly acknowledge the donation. You, of course, would sign an agreement confirming that you'll keep all details of this settlement confidential in perpetuity. This is one hell of an offer, young man, and you get rich while helping your people at the same time. It also spares you a humiliating trial defeat, so I suggest you accept this landmark settlement."

Jordan wanted to puke. `This guy's from a different planet,' he thought.

"I'll have to consult with my attorney. If you'll excuse us, sir, we'll have your answer shortly," he said to him. Neville nodded and exited the room.

"What a pompous idiot!" Jordan exclaimed once they were alone.

"Someone definitely put his suppository in sideways this morning," Vin added. Taylor nodded in agreement, snickering at his friend's cute comment.

"I agree, he's a total asshole," Thad said, "but we need to respond to his offer. I'm pretty sure I know the answer, but you need to tell me what do, Jordan."

Jordan huffed through his nose. "Forget it! The donations are a white wash that lets their little gang of criminals ride into the sunset. Why don't we draft our own settlement agreement and send it directly to the board members, giving the illustrious Mr. Neville a courtesy copy of course."

Thad smiled. "I was thinking the same thing. Let me go tell him the good news and send him on his way." He departed in search of the opposing counselor.

Jordan laid his head on Taylor's shoulder. "Get me out of here, please. I don't wanna think about this a moment longer."

Taylor kissed his lips softly. "Your wish is my command, baby." Upon Thad's return, they moved into the hotel's kitchen and wound through a series of hallways. Jordan felt like the president being hurried off by Secret Service agents. Reaching a large metal door, Thad pushed it open to reveal Carl and the limousine waiting at a secluded exit. He opened the door and motioned for everyone to get in. They did and he moved the vehicle off, taking back roads to avoid the crowd of reporters and protesters still gathered outside. Once safely away, the group breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Thank heavens that's done," Jordan said, wrapping his arms around one of Taylor's and snuggling against him.

"Good show, young man! We're all very impressed with how well you presented your case," Carl said.

"Thanks, Carl, but I just wanna forget about today for a while. I doubt I made much of a difference and, at this point, I really don't care," Jordan said with a yawn. The day had taken its toll on his still healing body.

"I disagree," Thad interjected. "I think you made a major difference. You handled their questions with poise and grace. They'll see you much differently now and comments made against you will be seen in a new light. We accomplished our goals today and that's what matters."

"I guess so," Jordan said, closing his eyes. The remainder of the ride was quiet as the friends relaxed and came down from their adrenaline rushes. Taylor was most relieved when they entered the estate. He nodded at the gate's armed guard. A group of security agents had been placed around the property as a preventative measure. No problems were expected, but Taylor decided to err on the side of caution just in case. As they pulled under the portico, Jordan got out and stretched furiously, glad to be home at last. His sense of peace didn't last long, however, as Lila came out the door, dressed in what she called her "gardening attire." Jordan recognized the cue. It meant they had another of their one on one conversations coming. She went to say something, but Jordan quickly stopped her.

"Let me get out of this monkey suit and I'll be right there."

Lila smiled. "OK, child, you know where to find me."

Jordan nodded, kissed Taylor on the cheek and headed upstairs to change. His leg ached badly, so it took a little extra time to reach the bedroom. He and Taylor had moved back into the room recently at his insistence. He missed the warm space and wanted to be as far from the office as he could. Taylor used the connecting door to check on him too frequently, causing strife between them. The stairs presented a challenge, but it was worth the pain for peace in their life. Once there, he quickly shed his suit and laid it carefully on the bed. Donning a pair of plaid shorts, a Hollister t-shirt and his well worn flops, he headed back down the stairs. After a quick stop in the kitchen to get a diet soda, he headed out and found Lila in the potting shed. Breaking the seal on the bottle, he took a hearty sip and sat down next to her.

"How'd it go?" she asked once he got comfortable.

"It went well, I think. At least that's what Thad says," Jordan told her.

"You disagree?" she inquired.

"Who knows, mom. You know how fickle the press can be. If they say good things, so be it. If not, I did my best."

"Exactly," Lila agreed. "How have you been feeling lately?"

"Fine," Jordan answered succinctly.

Lila gave him one of her patented looks. "Since when do I accept one word answers?"

"Alright," he conceded. "My leg's been hurting a lot, but Tasha said that's to be expected." Tasha was Jordan's physical therapist, and he was convinced that she'd learned her craft in a Chinese prison.

"Is it bearable?" she asked worriedly.

"Yeah, it's not that bad. Just a constant ache to remind me I'm not back to one hundred percent yet," Jordan said.

"You've come a long way in a short time, Jordan," Lila reminded him. "Be patient and you'll get there."

"Yes, mother dear," Jordan said sarcastically, drawing another look from Lila. Taylor was rubbing off on him in many ways, and some of it didn't make her happy.

"Have you given any more thought to what you're going to do when this is all over?"

Jordan became pensive. "I have, actually. I want to work with troubled kids, Lila, troubled gay kids if possible. I think my experiences would be valuable in helping these children. You know, build up their self esteem and make them realize there's nothing wrong with the way they are."

"Any idea how you're going to go about finding these young folks?" Lila asked. She was full of probing questions today.

"I was counting on you to help me there, mom. I've got to get through this case first, though," Jordan said.

Lila smiled at him. "I was hoping you'd let me help you. Leave everything to me and by the time this is over, I'll have a range of options for you."

"I have no doubt," Jordan said. "And thanks, mom. I couldn't have asked for a better mother-in-law." He kissed Lila's cheek and gave her a good squeeze.

"You flatter me, child," she said. "Come; share your sharp eye with me while we pick some flowers for the table." The two happily left the shed and went in search of the perfect blooms.

The rest of the men sat on the veranda enjoying cocktails while they filled Leonard in on how things went.

"Jordan was amazing," Taylor told him. "Even when the going got tough, he held his ground and stayed in control. I don't think I would have done nearly as well."

"That bible thumping pig didn't even rattle him," Vin added.

"I'm still pissed that rat got in there. I'm sure a portion of the media will focus on that one small part and give his supporters the kind of coverage they live for," Thad said regretfully.

Vin leaned in and kissed his husband's neck. "Don't beat yourself up too bad, lover boy. In my book, you were awesome; so powerful and hunky."

"Thanks, snookie, but I think you might be biased," he joked. Vin slapped his arm hard in response.

"Maybe so, but we both know that my opinion's the one that matters most."

"Of course, dear," Thad said before joining their mouths together and starting the tongue duel they'd spent years perfecting. Taylor observed the scene fondly, wishing Jordan was there. He missed his man more every second they were apart. Fortunately, his wait for his beloved's return wasn't long. Jordan joined them, rolling his eyes playfully at the sight before him.

"Do you two ever stop?" he asked jokingly.

"Not if we can help it," Vin replied when they came up for air.

Jordan grinned and made his way to Taylor, taking a seat in his lap. He nestled his head on his man's shoulder and lovingly pecked at his neck. The effect on Taylor was profound, as his crotch began to tingle and his cock began to engorge.

"Careful, mister," Taylor warned. "Never know what kisses like that might bring up."

"Mmmmm, maybe we should find out," Jordan said seductively as he kissed the blushing neck harder.

Thad cleared his throat. "I hate to break up a mating ritual, but we need to talk shop before the nights out."

"Always the bubble buster," Jordan scolded. "What do we need to talk about now?"

"Our counter to their offer," Thad reminded him. "I need the conditions you'll accept so I can get it off as soon as possible.

"OK," Jordan said. "First and foremost, Gardener and Rollins have to go. Nothing will change with those two around." Lila joined them as he began speaking.

"I couldn't agree more," she seconded, giving Taylor a knowing look. Jordan caught the glance and wondered what it was all about.

"What else?" Thad asked.

"The money's fine. It's not really important anyway. The board needs to be reworked to include more women and minorities, though. Let them draft a proposal for policy changes and give us the right of first refusal. I don't want to write the changes word for word. I just want the ability to reject any bullshit they try to throw our way."

"Fair enough," Thad said. "I'll get it drawn up and have a messenger deliver it to each director personally. It's going to ruffle a few feathers, though. Be ready for that, young man."

"Bring it," Jordan said. "Now where was I?" he asked as he returned to Taylor's neck.

"Whoa, killer, down. We've got plenty of time for that later and we're in the presence of a lady," Taylor said. Jordan pushed out his bottom lip in protest but reluctantly complied . Lila gave him a look of thanks.

Thad and Vin ate dinner with the group. Over chicken with Spanish Rice, they went over the humorous parts of the day's events. Everyone had a good laugh and enjoyed a pleasant evening together. Jordan, however, remained hopelessly horny and toyed with Taylor the whole time. He knew the result was liable to be a hard plowing, but that's what he desired most. The impaired state of his body had made their love making attempts awkward and at times painful. It left both of them hungry and frustrated, so much so that Taylor had been avoiding most sexual contact. Jordan decided that tonight would be different. His body was healing nicely and his limbs' elasticity was coming back. Yes, sir, tonight would be the night.

As Vin discussed an art piece he was currently working on, Jordan squeezed Taylor's thigh, then alternated between massaging it roughly and lightly tracing his fingers over it. He was thrilled when his man began shifting in his seat, the bulge in his pants becoming more obvious. Jordan continued toying, drawing his hand ever closer to the growing mound. He'd come within an inch of contacting it, then back away, causing Taylor to jump slightly. Months ago, he discovered that teasing turned his lover into an animal, and judging by Taylor's reactions, it was working again. What he didn't realize, however, was that his victim's desire was equally strong, and he was willing to play along with Jordan's little game. Always happy to surprise, Taylor looked at the amorous man beside him, his eyes asking "Are you sure?" Jordan merely batted his lashes, giving him the answer he longed for.

Disappointment came to Jordan when Taylor grasped his roaming hand firmly, holding it still. He feared that he'd pushed things too far, trying to bring his man into a situation he wasn't ready for. That feeling passed in a flash when Taylor relocated the hand to his rigid crotch. Jordan smiled coyly and took a hold of the pulsing member. At first, he was content to just keep it prisoner in his hand and remain still. Taylor cast a few confused glances his way, then returned to the after dinner conversation. Once he was sure that Taylor had adapted to his hold, he changed things up, moving his hand slowly upward to the head. Using his thumb and pointer finger, he rubbed the swollen glans sensually, paying particular attention to the ridge beneath it. The new sensation caused Taylor to stumble over a few syllables in his latest comment on Vin's words, filling Jordan with delight.

"You should come see my paintings," Vin said to Jordan, who'd begun lowering Taylor's zipper one tooth at a time.

"I'd love......to," Jordan said with a noticeable pause in the middle of his reply. His victim had decided to fight fire with fire, using his palm to run over Jordan's tingling groin. Taylor laughed to himself at the unexpected response.

Refusing to be outdone, Jordan inserted a single finger into the now open fly, drawing small circles over the straining shaft. A small ragged breath came from Taylor, conceding that the battle had entered a new stage. While the rambunctious digit played, Taylor fired the next volley, pushing his fingers below Jordan's balls and into the sensitive area beneath them. The loose shorts he was wearing gave way easily, allowing the external pressure to stimulate his special spot. Taylor felt his body stiffen and smiled in victory. Poor Jordan coughed and went wide eyed as the probing digits poked ever harder, bringing his resting cock to life.

"Are you OK?" Vin asked after witnessing the change in his friend's demeanor.

"Fine," Jordan squeaked as Taylor pushed harder. "Just tired, that's all."

"Then go to bed, silly," Vin insisted. "You've got to stop pushing yourself so hard, mister."

Jordan gave Taylor a knowing look. "He's right, you know. I really should get in bed."

"We should get going anyway. Busy day tomorrow," Thad said to his husband.

"Yes, it will be. I've got an early meeting and I'm still playing catch up," Taylor added.

"Let me use the little boys' room and we'll be off. Come on, gimpy. I'll make sure you get your handicapped ass up those stairs," Vin said.

They exchanged their goodnight hugs, and then the two friends moved toward the dreaded stairway.

"You're such an evil little shit," Vin said when they got there.

"What?" Jordan asked innocently.

"Don't play me, bitch!" he warned. "I know what you two were doing and, frankly, Thad's going to thank you for getting me all worked up."

Jordan snickered. "I'm sorry, but it's been so long that I just have to have him tonight!"

Vin put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know, sweetie, but be careful. Despite what you may think, your body isn't back to full speed yet. Go easy, OK?"

"I'll try, but no promises," he answered.

The two friends went through their usual parting ritual and Jordan made his way upstairs. Vin remained at the bottom until he was sure the man was safely up. At the top, Jordan gave him a wink and disappeared around the corner. Noticing his own internal stress, Vin moved off in search of Thad to begin what was certain to be an interesting ride home.

Once in the bedroom, Jordan moved to the vanity and found his toothbrush. Squirting a dollop of paste on the bristles, he scrubbed the evening meal's spices from his mouth. Satisfied that his breath was no longer offensive, he went to the closet and stripped naked, taking time to observe his reflection in a nearby mirror. The scar on his belly hadn't begun to fade yet, so it still looked like a long purple zipper. He ran his fingers across it, tracing every bump. His forehead appeared mostly normal, with the exception of a tiny scab in the center of the injured area. He was thankful the nasty bruise was gone, pleased at the way his face looked familiar again. His arm and leg bore the evidence of his trauma as well, small bluish areas marking where the various screws and plates were inserted. Resigning himself to the new imperfections, he approached the bed and laid down on top of the covers.

He arranged his body into what he thought was a seductive position. Not happy with that one, he moved and tried another. After several attempts, he found one he liked and held that pose. The end of their dinner table play had let his cock go soft, and it rested lazily on his right thigh. Deciding this wasn't acceptable, he took it in his hand and began lightly stroking the shaft. It didn't respond at once, a testament to the many medications Jordan was still taking. He tightened his grip and pulled on it harder, reliving the pressure game Taylor had played earlier. As he recalled the shockwaves it sent through his body, blood moved lower and began to pool in his member. The shaft thickened and began to lengthen. Soon, it stood at full attention. With his look complete, Jordan fingered his member idly so it remained up and proud for his man's entry.

Taylor placed the coffee cups and dessert plates in the kitchen since he'd sent Leonard and Carl home early. With the table cleared, he moved about, turning off lights as he went. In the end, the only illumination came from the stairway leading to the second floor. The beams beckoned him to come hither, to ascend to his chamber of pleasure. His soft tool tingled and chubbed as he thought of what might happen in the next few minutes. Even though he was still afraid of hurting his recovering lover, his physical need to be joined with him had become too great to ignore. One at a time, he climbed the stairs toward the second floor, becoming more eager to finally consummate their love once more.

When he turned off the light, he saw a soft glow escaping from the partially closed bedroom door. Pausing momentarily to consider his options before going in, he thrashed his clothes off and pushed inside, his cock growing taller by the second. The sight he beheld brought it raging forth, stoking his desire to be inside his amazing man.

Jordan was on his back, his legs bent at the knee so his wrinkled pucker was in view. His hands were behind his head with his fingers intertwined. The organ between his legs pointed straight up, a pearly drop of shiny liquid perched at its tip. Seeing Taylor come in stark naked with a raging boner caused it to throb and move slightly up and down. Taylor regarded the sexy sight for a moment before slowly crawling onto the bed.

"My, my, what have we here?" he said.

Jordan released his head and brought his hands to his butt cheeks, pulling them open so his most treasured spot was in full view. "We've got a hole that's hungry and only your special brand of attention will satisfy it." He flexed his sphincter while speaking, causing it to wink at Taylor.

Taylor put a finger in his mouth, then placed the moistened digit against the fiery entrance. He teased around its edges, feeling the tight ring tremble in anticipation. "Is this what it wants?" he asked his moaning man.

"It's a start, but she's starving and needs a lot more than that," Jordan said breathlessly as the finger pushed through the outer muscle.

"I think this might be what she needs," Taylor said as he slid into the hilt, finding the spot that drove his man mad with lust.

"Better," Jordan croaked as pleasurable bolts of electricity coursed through him.

Taylor smiled thinly, and withdrew his probing finger. Before Jordan had time to protest, strong hands pushed his knees backward and forced his ass further into the air. He felt a minor discomfort in this position, but was far too charged up to care. Taylor's face descended into his wide open crack and began using his tongue to stimulate the tingling crevice.

He laid his tongue below the opening and dragged it upward. When he reached the pucker, he backed off so only the pointed tip contacted it teasingly. Once passed, he laid the wet marauder back down, easing higher until he reached the tightening ball sack. He ran it over the hairless bag, letting his saliva run over it freely. Pleased that it was wet and ready, he drew one of the swollen nuts into his mouth and sucked on it heartily. He rolled it around in his mouth, dragging his teeth over it softly. Jordan moaned wantonly, grabbing fistfuls of hair and urging his attacker on.

Taylor released the sensitive testicle, and took the other one in, giving it equal time. Pre cum flowed from Jordan's angry head and fell down his shaft. His balls boiled from the oral ministrations they were receiving and his body writhed in pleasure. Maintaining a constant pressure on the knees, Taylor lazily descended, bathing every piece of skin in his path with spit. A few agonizing moments later, he reached the object of his lust and dove into it tenaciously. He flipped his tongue wildly over the twitching asshole, stabbing at it, forcing his way inside. Jordan's breathing became hard and ragged as the delving tool breached its defenses, sliding into his essence.

Taylor held it inside, moving the tip around in a circular motion. It made his subject growl loudly and push his pelvis down hard, trying to impale himself further. Taylor obliged, inserting it further until his face was buried against Jordan's ample globes. He rocked back and forth, fucking his tongue in and out. The tense pucker relaxed and opened fully to him, so he withdrew and inserted two fingers, driving them in to the top.

Jordan tightened his rectum around them, flexing his muscles as they repeatedly pummeled his prostate. He reveled in the feeling as his cock spit pre cum and his balls grew taut. Taylor fucked them in and out faster as he licked the surrounding areas. His own cock had become frenetically rigid and longed to be encased in its favorite love glove. Taylor continued softening the buttery tunnel, spreading his fingers wide then pushing in to prod at the heavily excited g spot. Their need for each other reached feverish heights as sweat dripped from their bodies profusely.

"Big man, you need to fuck me and fuck me right now!" Jordan commanded, unable to be empty one millisecond longer.

Taylor sat up and moved to his knees. Scooting closer to his intended target, he threw Jordan's legs back hard, returning his round ass to its rightful place high in the air. He was hungry with lust, but also hungry to make his man beg to be filled. Holding his steely tube straight, he ran the leaking head over the open hole, teasing it. Jordan attempted to push down and force it in, without success. The hold on his legs prevented all but the most minor of movements. He made noises of frustration as the head would push in an inch, then pull out and rub against his asshole. It penetrated a bit farther the next time, then left him empty again. His chest heaved as he endured false start after false start, making him desperate to be plowed.

"Oh God, Taylor, please put it in me. I've waited so long and I need to feel you. Please, baby, fuck me! PLEASE!" he pleaded.

Taylor acquiesced, lining up his rock hard member and pushing all the way in. Jordan saw stars as his hole stretched to its limits accommodating the ram burrowing its way inside him. The cock paused when it hit bottom, then withdrew completely. Once out, Taylor thrust it forward, forcefully entering until his balls rested atop Jordan's upturned cheeks. Moving half way out, he leaned forward and fucked his cock in then out quickly, striking the inner walnut repeatedly. Jordan's heels dug into his cheeks as the steely rod sawed into him. Involuntary grunts of pleasure escaped both their lips as pressure began to build. Taylor pulled back farther, keeping the head inside then rocketed forward. He long-dicked the over stimulated rectum again and again, feeling Jordan's fingernails claw at his back in ecstasy. Pre cum flew from his man's cock as the throbbing glans rasped Jordan's prostate time and time again. It came in such quantity that his belly button filled and then overflowed, sending a cascade of slippery liquid down his side.

Taylor slowed his pace considerably, stirring his stick toward the sides of Jordan's walls. The pressure caused the gripping glove to widen further and spasm frequently. Taylor jumped at the feeling as the contraction milked him over and over. Sufficiently pleased at where he'd taken Jordan by slowing, Taylor steadily increased the tempo, ending up with his cock furiously pounding in and out of his lover. Jordan's body tensed up as the assault on his prostate unleashed a torrent of new sensations that his balls couldn't handle. They pulled closer to his body and sent the signal to surrender. With a piercing scream, Jordan's cock reached maximum stiffness and shot its wad. The first volley followed a high arc, landing on his face. The second and third hit his chin and ran down his neck. The remaining spurts followed a backward trail from his nipples to his pubes, coating everything in its wake. His sphincter bore down hard, increasing the friction on Taylor's shaft.

Unable to hold out any longer, Taylor shoved his tool in deep, filling Jordan's bowels with bolts of fire hot cum. A savage scream escaped his lips as the release he'd built so heartily finally happened.

His energy spent and his breathing heavy, Taylor collapsed on top of Jordan. They held each other tightly, basking in the unconditional love they felt for each other. He remained buried in his man's velvety ass until his cock wilted and fell out. Jordan pulled him tighter as a he felt a rush of cool air enter him, and the deeply injected seed run out. He clung to Taylor as if he'd never see him again if he let go, happy to have the sweaty naked body pressed against him. For the first time in ages, he felt complete and vowed silently to never let this incredible human escape him again.

Taylor was positively radiant as he tried to control his excited heart. With all the obstacles that life had thrown at them, he was relieved that the passion filled encounters they lived for were better than ever. He kissed Jordan's neck lovingly as he settled into his voracious embrace.

"I love you so much!" Jordan said while caressing Taylor's scratched up back. "I feel more alive than I have in so long."

Taylor picked up his head and stared into Jordan's eyes. He moved his mouth forward, pressing it against his captive lover's lips and forced his tongue between them. Jordan opened his mouth eagerly, thrusting his own tongue forward. The kiss was hot and mind bending, but it also cemented the fact that their love making was about so much more than getting off. It was a true union, a junction of two souls that were unable to survive without the other. Their feelings were deeper now than at any time in the past, and they were growing stronger with each passing day. As Taylor saw it, life wasn't worth living without this man beside him for eternity.

"I love you too, baby," Taylor replied when the kiss ended. "I can't get over the heat and passion that pass between us every time we make love. I know this sounds trite, but it just gets better and better."

Jordan smiled. "That's not trite; it's sweet.......and true. You make my body scream in ways that nobody ever could. I get hungrier for you every minute of every day, and I'd die if we had to be apart." A single tear fell down his cheek as he spoke.

Taylor saw the salty drop and kissed it away. He then returned his intense stare to Jordan's eyes. "I was a fool before, but I can tell you this as fact. You'll never be rid of me. If we were separated, it would become my life's mission to find you and bring you back. We belong together, Jordan, because soul mates aren't meant to survive apart. They draw strength from the fact that the merger of their hearts and minds creates a unit that is stronger than most. As one, we can beat anything that comes our way."

The tears fell harder, but not from sadness. Jordan was touched to his core by Taylor's sentimental words. He couldn't love anyone more than he did the naked man on top of him. His commitment to him was forever, and he was excited about what lay ahead for them. No matter how hard things got, he would remain by his side, becoming a bastion of support in life's choppy waters. It was the least he could do to give thanks for the wonderful life he'd been given.

They lay still for a period of time, the sticky cum binding their torsos, until mother nature's urges eventually called, forcing Taylor to peal himself off of his naked lover. Jordan remained motionless, captivated by the muscular silhouette of his naked companion. He watched the firm ass walk away, delighting in how it swayed slightly as Taylor walked.

Knowing he had some unavoidable cleaning to perform, he got up, moved to the sink, wetting a nearby washcloth. Getting the dried cum off was going to be a chore. The milky fluid had run into many hard to reach places, causing Jordan to become frustrated. Even though he'd twisted his body into several acrobatic positions a few minutes ago, wiping the mess from his body was turning into a somewhat painful experience. Taylor saw the grimace on his face as he left the bathroom, and moved to assist. Taking the cloth from his exasperated lover, he began softly running the wet cloth over the sticky skin. Jordan trembled at the touch as the cloth scrubbed away the remnants of the love making gently. He blushed as Taylor parted his cheeks, afraid that his well fucked hole would disgust his man. His concerns were unfounded, though. Taylor had no adverse reaction, cleansing the area methodically. Satisfied that things were in order, he tossed the cloth in the sink and stared at their reflection in the mirror above it. Smiling wistfully, he pulled Jordan tightly to him, resting his lips on the younger man's smooth neck. Their hearts beat in unison as they enjoyed the afterglow of their heated encounter.

"I don't know about you, but I could use something sweet," Taylor whispered into Jordan's ear.

After thinking about it for a split second, Jordan agreed. "Mmm, ice cream sounds good about now."

Taylor grinned and kissed his lips lightly, then moved off to find some boxers for both of them. He chose a black pair with silver diamonds for himself and a white pair with red checks for the love of his life. The satin material felt soft on their skin and shimmered as they moved. As dressed as they were going to get, the happy couple left the room and went on a hunt for their favorite treat.

The freezer contained a wide variety of choices. Taylor stared at the flavors with Jordan against his back, reading over his shoulder. After some discussion, they settled on double mocha fudge with a drizzle of chocolate syrup over it. Taylor dished out the creamy delight while Jordan added just the right amount of delicious sauce. Taking a moment to put everything away, they took stools at the counter and ate the first bite of the rich mixture. Their eyes rolled in pleasure as their mouths were bathed in the nearly orgasmic tastes. Moans, not unlike the ones they'd made earlier, were heard throughout the kitchen.

"You know, this is better than sex in some ways," Jordan commented, drawing a hurt look from Taylor. "I said 'some' ways, honey," he clarified with a smile, making them both crack up.

Taylor took another mouthful and rolled it around in his mouth before swallowing. "This really is one of man's finer creations, but I'd say it's as good as sex, not better."

Jordan leaned forward and kissed Taylor's lips, pushing his chocolate covered tongue into his paramour's mouth. They shared the small dot of ice cream he held within, the heavenly mixture passing between them. Giddier giggling came on when they broke, and they happily went back to devouring their treats.

"Can I ask you something, baby?" Taylor said to Jordan as he took in another spoonful.

"Sure, sweetie," Jordan answered.

"How are you feeling lately? I mean, I know you say all's well, but you've endured a lot lately and it's got to be affecting you on some level. I need to know you're truly alright."

Jordan's face got a far off look for a time. "I'm hanging in there, honey, but it hasn't been easy. I feel really guilty about Charlie. I got him into this and feel responsible for what happened."

Taylor took his hand and locked their fingers together. "Baby, Charlie was a victim of Rollins' manipulation and abuse. He was a confused and hurt young man who was destroyed by his circumstances, not by what you encouraged him to do. You can't hold yourself liable for what happened."

"I guess you're right, but I did to him what you did to me, and I understand how you can get lost in a goal so much better now. I keep wondering if things would have been different if I'd held his feelings in a little higher regard. Would he still be here?" Jordan said.

"I doubt it," Taylor responded quickly. "Getting outed through all this was traumatic and we have no clue how he really felt about it. Could be that things went badly with his family and that's why he did what he did."

"I suppose," Jordan said sadly.

Before either could say anything more, a deafening boom sounded, followed by a shower of glass shards flying all around them. They fell to the floor in fear and huddled together. Taylor put his body over Jordan's as things collapsed from the force that moved through the room. Cabinet doors were ripped from their hinges and Jordan screamed loudly. His body convulsed with fright as the chaos continued. Large stones from the patio's surface were hurled in like bullets, destroying all in their path. In seconds, though, all was quiet, the only sound being a few random sheets of paper drifting through the air. The men shook violently, too shocked to realize that the event was over. Frantic voices were heard yelling loudly and got progressively louder. The security team entered and stepped cautiously inside, broken glass crunching under their feet.

"Mr. Bryant, Mr. Maxwell?" Micah, the team's leader, called out.

"Over here," Taylor yelled, snapping out of his daze. Jordan didn't move, remaining balled up on the floor trembling.

The team moved to them, and began assessing their condition. Taylor had a few cuts that bled, but they were minor. His hands shook uncontrollably as he tried to calm his raging heart. The agents got Jordan up, finding that Taylor's body had protected him from injury. He was dazed and confused, also shaking violently.

"We've got to get you out of here!" Micah announced as another guard, John, barked furious orders into a cell phone.

Taylor looked around, trying to understand what had just happened. The picture windows that gave such a peaceful view of the water were gone, a cavernous hole in their place. The stones of the veranda were scattered about, and a deep crater stood in the middle of it. All the furniture and accessories that gave the room its charm were gone, lying in pieces around the room. The security men tried to urge the shaken men forward, but Taylor's sensibilities returned before they could spirit them away.

"We can't go yet!" he exclaimed. "We're barefoot and all that glass will cut us to shreds!"

Micah took notice of their attire and dispatched someone to retrieve the items needed. The man returned shortly bearing shoes and robes for both men. Once they were dressed, the agents pushed them through the room and out the door. Everyone was relocated to the potting shed as a large step van flew onto the property. When it stopped, a huge contingent of armed men unloaded and fanned out across the estate. A group was assembled and assigned to protect the shocked victims.

"What the hell happened?" Jordan asked, his voice filled with dismay.

Taylor moved to him and wrapped him up tightly. "I don't know, baby," he replied in shock.

Sirens wailed in the distance and got louder as they came closer. The grounds were soon covered with a gaggle of people from the police, fire department and EMS. The paramedics treated their superficial injuries while the rest entered the house to investigate. Four security men escorted Leonard and Carl into the shed, and they cried in relief at finding their sons alive. Jordan and Taylor joined them, releasing the rush of emotion that was built up inside them. The men held each other tightly until the all clear signal was given, which came about an hour later.

With a protection detail surrounding them, the group moved into the house at the request of the lead police detective. What they saw filled their hearts with pain and confusion. The blast had not only knocked out the windows, but the wooden French doors as well. Twisted pieces of metal hung in the jagged opening, twisting in the light ocean breeze that streamed in. Yellow tape cordoned off the area, and officials moved about in search of the explosion's cause. Dogs had been brought in to verify that no other devices existed on the property. It was a scene of controlled disorganization as activity flurried around them. The team brought them through the chasm and onto what was left of the veranda. The section of the elevated porch that stood to the right of the crater Taylor had seen earlier was gone, collapsed into a pile of haphazard rubble. The scene went from causing confusion to sadness as the group realized what caused the atrocious event. It was obvious that a bomb of some type had gone off, intentionally placed to cause great harm to the people inside. They shook their heads in disgust as the detective in charge approached.

"I'm Detective Paul Summers, and I'll be in charge of this investigation. Is everyone alright?" he asked

"That's a stupid question," Jordan replied as he surveyed the damage.

"Stop, Jordan!" Taylor ordered. "Luckily, we all appear to be OK. I don't know how, but we escaped serious injury."

"You were fortunate. A device of this magnitude rarely leaves survivors," the man informed them. "Is there anyone else in the house?"

"No," Taylor replied. "My mother left earlier to spend the evening with friends, so it was just Jordan and me inside."

Summers withdrew a notepad from his coat and began inquiring about the details of the incident. "Can you think of why anyone would want to hurt the two of you?"

Jordan's face took on a look of extreme guilt. "The press conference!" he yelled out, turning pale.

"What press conference?" Summers asked.

Taylor explained. "Detective, my partner is embroiled in a serious lawsuit against some well respected members of our business community. Earlier today, we participated in a press conference to answer some of the ridiculous charges they've been leveling against us. A man got in and yelled some prejudicial statements before he was carted off. I don't know if its related to what happened here, but it could be."

"What type of prejudicial things did he yell?" the detective asked.

"We're gay, Mr. Summers," Jordan said with distress, "and some very small minded people have made it their business to condemn our lifestyle."

"Oh," was all Summers said as he considered the implications. "I apologize if I appear shocked, but this adds a whole new dimension. We might be dealing with a hate crime in this case. I assure you, though, gentlemen that I have no issue with either of you and will pursue this investigation vigorously."

"Thank you, detective," Taylor said. A commotion caught their attention as a uniformed officer called for the detective to come see something. He stepped off the crumbling veranda and followed his junior off toward the rear of the estate. The still in-shock victims gawked at each other worriedly as they awaited word of the new find. Summers came back shortly, looking very concerned.

"Gentlemen, please come with me," he asked. The group followed him down the trail past Leonard and Carl's home, coming out on the beach. Their eyes went wide as they viewed the officers' most recent discovery. Hanging by the neck from a pole was a dummy with the words "DIE FAGGOT" spray painted across its chest. A bible had been taped into its right hand and a knife protruded from its head. The men and their security detail looked at it silently, becoming nauseated at the sight. No one was accustomed to seeing an effigy of hate like this, and it left them feeling empty.

Detective Summers sensed their feelings and led everyone back to the veranda. The K-9 officer reported that no other explosives had been found and there was no sign of the perpetrators in the immediate vicinity. While Summers spoke with his fellow investigators, an agent stepped to Micah and whispered something in his ear. His face dropped when the man finished. Another piece of the grizzly puzzle was ready to come out.

"Detective," Micah began, "we've got a problem. My associate just informed me that two members of my original protection detail are missing. We've conducted a thorough search and found no bodies, so I can only assume they're somehow involved."

"Do you have their names and information available?" Summers asked.

"Not here, but if you'll come with me, I'll have their dossiers faxed to me right away," Micah answered, angry at himself for letting this obvious clue get by him. The men left to gather the new evidence as Jordan's mind grappled with the latest development.

"I thought these men were here to protect us!" he screamed at Taylor, tears streaming down his face.

Taylor held him close as emotion ran out of him. "I thought so too, baby."

Micah came back a little while later with a sheepish look on his face. "I'm sorry, guys," he said to Jordan and Taylor. "I can't believe that members of my own team could let something like this happen! I've let you down and understand totally if you'd like another agent to handle matters from now on."

Taylor turned his head to face the man, never letting go of his sobbing lover. "Micah, it's not your fault. None of us saw this coming, but we need to be doubly careful from now on. Do whatever you have to do to ensure that Jordan stays safe."

Micah nodded, relieved at getting a chance for redemption. "It's late and these men have a lot of work to do. I think we need to get out of their way and let you two get some rest."

Carl stepped up to address the security agent. "We'll take them to our place. They'll be safe there."

"NO!" Jordan railed. "I can't stay here tonight. If they come back, they might kill us next time. Just get us out of here, please!" His sobs became more forceful as his body trembled with anxiety.

"We can't stay here tonight, Micah," Taylor agreed. "Get me a phone so I can make arrangements for us to hideout for a while."

Micah reached into his pocket and gave Taylor what he asked for. Releasing Jordan, he stepped away and dialed a number. On the fifth ring, a sleepy voice answered.

"This better be good," Vin said groggily.

"Vin, wake Thad up and get him to the phone," Taylor said in a serious tone.

"Taylor, is that you?" Vin asked. "Is everything OK?"

"No. I'll explain later. Just bring Thad to the phone right now, please," he asked.

He heard murmurs in the background moments before Thad's tired voice addressed him. "Taylor? What's wrong?" he said with alarm.

"We've had a bad night," Taylor began. "Someone detonated a bomb on the veranda and pretty much wiped out the first floor of my house."

Thad was fully awake now. "Oh my God, is everyone alright?"

"We're fine, thank goodness, but Jordan's pretty shaken up. There's not much point in us staying here, so I was wondering if we could bunk with you guys for the night. I know it's short notice, but I've got to get him out of here before he has a nervous breakdown," Taylor said.

Thad didn't hesitate. "Absolutely, we'll be ready and waiting for you guys. Come now!"

"Well, it won't just be us. The security around us has been beefed up, so a team of agents will have to come along too. I'm sorry about all this, but I didn't know who else to call," Taylor said.

"Don't think like that. You guys just get in the car and come over. We'll keep you for a long as it takes," he assured his friend.

"Thanks, buddy. We'll see you shortly," Taylor replied before hanging up. He moved back to Jordan and brought Micah up to speed.

Taylor looked at his two fathers, not quite sure they'd be safe here either. Stepping between them, he put an arm around both and pulled them close. "I don't think you guys should stay here either."

Leonard objected. "Nonsense, son. Someone needs to be here in case the police have a question. Nobody knows this place like we do. You get Jordan out of here and don't worry about us."

Taylor shook his head. "No way, guys. You're too important to me, plus I couldn't rest thinking you might be in danger. You haven't been on a vacation in years. Maybe now's the time to visit some of the places you two have been dreaming about."

"I agree," Micah added. "I don't think you were a target here, but let's not take any chances."

Leonard's shoulders dropped in defeat. "Only because I love you will I agree to this," he began. "We better hear from you every day. You understand Taylor Bryant?"

Taylor nodded and embraced him. "I promise, dad. We'll talk each and every day."

Carl joined in the hug, all three holding each other sadly. They hadn't spent a significant amount of time apart in years, and the cause of their parting saddened them. With a quick kiss, they parted and locked Jordan in a equally brutal love grasp.

"You be safe, sweetie, and know we love you more than anything," Carl said.

Tears fell from Jordan's eyes. "I know," he croaked. "I'm gonna miss you guys something awful. Please hurry back!"

The trio hugged each other harder. "We will, son," Leonard promised.

Misty eyed, the two men fondly observed their surrogate sons. At the urging of a nearby guard, they turned and headed toward their home. Taylor and Jordan held each other as they watched their family members moved out of sight. Jordan clutched Taylor's robe and sobbed into his chest. Equally affected by the circumstances, Taylor held him hard and kissed his head. Taking one more look at the destruction around him, he made eye contact with Micah and nodded.

"Let's go. Get a team together and we'll head out," he instructed.

"I'm on it," Micah said as he began speaking into his walkie-talkie. Minutes later, a group of six heavily armed men loaded them in a van and departed the estate.

As Taylor guided them to their destination, Jordan clutched him with desperation. He didn't say a word, staring off into space with a lost look. The muscles in his body trembled intermittently as the night's events replayed in his mind. Taylor held him close, rubbing his back and whispering words of comfort. It didn't help to assuage Jordan's angst in the least.

The van pulled up in front of a ten story building and stopped before the front entrance. Micah and another agent ordered everyone to stay put while they checked things out. Pushing through the door, they entered the elevator and rode to the penthouse level, knocking on the door of Thad and Vin's home. The agents explained their presence and were allowed inside. They surveyed the condominium quickly, noting anything that might pose a security risk. Satisfied that all was safe for now, Micah excused himself and went down to retrieve his clients. When he reached the vehicle, he climbed inside and began to explain how things would work from now on.

"OK, guys, we're almost ready to go upstairs. I have a few requests that you need to follow for your safety. First, stay off the balcony. I don't think there's much chance of it, but I'd hate for some crazy asshole to take a pot shot at either of you. My coworker is inside now making sure that all the blinds are closed and he'll see they stay that way. Second, no phone calls unless you use one of our phones. Ours have a scrambler built into them and their GPS signal is disabled, making your whereabouts virtually impossible to trace. Last, no one goes anywhere without me knowing about it and you'll never be without an armed escort. If these people try to get to you again, it's most likely that they'll do it publicly so the most people possible witness their handiwork. This all might seem like overkill, but I refuse to get caught with my pants down again. We understand everything?"

Taylor nodded in agreement, but Jordan remained catatonic, focused on some unknown object in space.

The team unloaded from the van with weapons drawn and made a line to the entrance. Micah opened the vehicle's side door and stayed beside them as they made their way inside. Once in the elevator, he stood in front of them in case an assailant waited when the doors opened. The only person present when they arrived was the agent left behind to ensure the premises were ready and secured. He opened the front door so Micah could hurry the men through, which he did quickly. Thad and Vin sat in the living room nervously awaiting their friends.

When Vin saw Jordan's blank face, he rushed forward and snatched him up into a fierce hug. Jordan's legs went weak as he began falling down Vin's small body toward the ground. The thin man was able to guide him down as the others came rushing to assist. Thad and Taylor scooped him up, carrying him down the hallway to a guest bedroom. Getting him situated on the mattress, Thad checked his pulse, finding it a bit fast but strong. He gave Taylor an affirmative nod, and they breathed a collective sigh of relief. When it was determined that the young man would survive, Vin suggested that Taylor take a break with Thad while he sat with Jordan. The crushing pace of the evening had worn Taylor out, so he readily agreed and followed Thad back to the living room area.

Vin moved close and took Jordan's hand. His heart went out to him, and he wished that all these bad things would just blow over so he could be happy again. He stroked his friend's hand gently for a while before the man's eyes moved rapidly and then fluttered open. The first sight he encountered was his best friend's face hovering over him.

"Hey, honey. You're OK now. We're all here and we're not going to let anything happen to you."

Jordan's face contorted and his body shook as the emotional agony he was in could be contained no longer. "Why, Vin? Why would someone do this to us?"

Across town, the two missing security men, John Kowalski and Nick O' Malley, stood in the well appointed library of Hiram Gibson, self appointed leader of the Army of God. His was a fanatic fringe group that used fear and intimidation to blunt its members into using the bible as a tool of hate. Followers were taught that homosexuals were an aberration created by Satan, and needed to be expunged from existence. Most of their protests were small and peaceful, centering on military funerals where they condemned the "don't ask, don't tell" policies of the current administration. Recently, though, the FBI had begun to suspect that Gibson was the driving force behind a series of vicious hate crimes, but the physical evidence was slim, so he couldn't be tied to the heinous events. He sat behind his desk, rocking slowly beneath a huge crucifix attached to the wall behind him. Even though he was pole thin and looked lost in the overstuffed chair, his stern look left no doubt that he was cold and calculating. That stare was currently cutting through Kowalski and O'Malley.

"I'm very disappointed in you, gentlemen. We paid you handsomely and expected results for our money. According to my sources, those two sodomites escaped unharmed and have disappeared from sight!" he raged.

O'Malley cleared his throat before speaking. "We aren't responsible for the error, reverend. The man who made the bomb for you must not have followed the specifications we insisted on. If he had, then the whole first floor of that house would have been wiped out."

Gibson's face turned beet red at the accusation. "How dare you accuse one of my flock to take the spotlight off of your incompetence. My man has Jesus in his heart and knew he was doing God's bidding! No, gentlemen, the error is on you and you alone!"

"After fifteen years of covert work for the CIA, I think I know what explosives are capable of," Kowalski said in their defense. "The bomb was wrong, or it would have worked. Trust me, padre; we know what we're talking about."

Gibson slammed his fist down on the desk, ready to do battle with these blasphemers. Before he could utter a word, though, a man sitting in a nearby chair piped up and diffused the situation.

"Sit down and shut up, Hiram!" he commanded. The reverend looked at him disdainfully, but followed the order. Ed Rollins stood up and came closer to the two hit men.

"I agree that the bomb wasn't right," he began, "but for the fee you received, I would have expected you to make sure it was right before you placed it. We've got a real situation now, and a little extra effort on your part could have saved us a lot of trouble."

"We need to replace them!" Gibson yelled.

"Nonsense, Hiram. Their work has been flawless up to now. They passed that red headed flake's death off as a suicide, even leaving a note that his family bought hook, line and sinker. They hacked Stephenson's computers so that Jim Gardener could be implicated in that other fag's lawsuit. I knew that shill he's represented by would find it sooner or later. I've also got another kid giving up his ass to some of Jimmy boy's most ardent followers, so when the time comes, they'll be compliant."

"They ruined our plans, though!" Gibson complained. "My people can handle this from now on."

"That's not necessary," Rollins shot back. "Nothing's ruined, just changed. Maybe we don't need to get to those two sissies. Maybe striking at a family member would be enough to get them to back off this ludicrous lawsuit."

"No offense," O'Malley said, "but why do these two queers matter so much to you?"

Rollins smiled. "A group I formed months ago has been using offshore accounts to buy large blocks of stock in Lithia Financial. We control about twenty percent of the outstanding shares, and stand to make millions when this deal finally goes through. I need Stephenson to remain intimately involved in the deal in case anything unexpected happens. Those tight assed bankers are balking at this suit, and we stand to lose our status as their lead advisers. I need to be able to make sure that they hold out for the highest possible offer."

"I still say that my people can handle this just fine, Ed," Gibson grumbled.

"Would you leave it alone, Hi?" Rollins said angrily. "I've been working on this since the day I made sure that Bryant's pussy boy got hired at Stephenson. His reaction to all this is unfortunate, but not impossible. Besides, when Lithia goes down, you'll have a nice fat account in Antigua awaiting you. So I suggest you shut your mouth and go along before I'm forced to do something to bring you in line."

"You've got nothing on me!" the reverend sneered. "And let's not forget that I could send you and your firm six feet under with one phone call."

Rollins calmly turned and withdrew a file from his briefcase. He set it before the zealot and stepped back. "Have a look, reverend," he said smugly.

Gibson opened the folder and turned pale. Inside were photographs of him and a member of his congregation placing a bomb at a home for wayward gay teens in California. The blast had killed more than ten people and made national news headlines. The bomber was never found and the case became cold. It was moved to the unsolved crime squad, but they hadn't gotten a concrete lead in over a year. Staring him in the face was the missing piece the police needed to make an arrest in the case.

"You wouldn't dare!" Gibson said.

"I wouldn't?" Rollins answered. "Try me, Hiram."

Gibson fell back into his chair knowing he was beaten. He stared angrily at Rollins but never said a word.

"That's a good boy, reverend," he taunted. "Here's how it's going to be. Kowalski and O'Malley will continue handling our 'special' needs. I won't be paying you gentlemen another dime, though, until I see results. This is my operation and I'm the only one calling the shots. Let's not forget that. Forget those two queers for now. I've got someone else in mind for you to take out."

The men listened intently as he laid out his newest idea, agreeing that the hit was definitely feasible. The group agreed to meet again the following day to refine their plans and set a timetable to enact them. Finished with the killers, Rollins dismissed them and urged them to get some sleep. They left without acknowledging his suggestion.

With that out of the way, Rollins saddled up to the study's wet bar, pouring himself a generous glass of Dewars on the rocks. Taking a large sip, he regarded the reverend angrily. "I need to know that you're with me, Hi."

"I'm not sure I like how this is going," he mumbled.

"That doesn't matter!" Rollins reminded him. "We need that bomb maker of yours to take the fall. When all this is done, the cops will need someone to feed on. While we ride away ridiculously rich, he'll take the fall and become the object of hate to the general public. It'll give the district attorney the big case he needs to win reelection. Plus, if you play this my way, you'll soften your image, announcing you turned him after discovering what he'd done. People will adore you, Hiram."

Gibson's eyes lit up at the possibility he could be seen as a glorious savior instead of a merciless hate monger. Being a force in the political arena was his dream, and he thought that his actions might set those wheels in motion. He smiled as he saw himself becoming influential and powerful.

"Alright, Ed, I'll go along," he said, "but I want all copies of those photos once we're finished."

"Done," Rollins assured him. "The icing on the cake is that our actions will put control of Stephenson up for grabs and I intend to emerge as the victor. Be a good boy and I might just let you keep riding on my coat tails." He refilled his drink and made another, placing the second in front of Gibson. The man picked it up and smiled evilly at his partner in duplicity.

"To the future!" Rollins toasted as the two clinked their glasses together.

While Vin attempted to calm Jordan, Thad and Taylor adjourned to his office for a serious discussion. As a gracious host, he fixed them each a snifter of Brandy and produced two expensive cigars. He cut the end off of both, and then held a lighter steady as Taylor got his stogie going. After igniting his own, he sat back and watched the clouds of blue smoke rise toward the ceiling.

"Any ideas who's behind this?" he asked Taylor.

"I have a few, but none that would stand up in court. It's suspicious to me that this happened the day before a very important meeting," Taylor informed.

"A meeting about?" the attorney inquired.

Taylor took a big puff on his cigar and blew two perfect smoke rings. "Mother and I developed a contingency plan in the event that Jordan's case failed. Tomorrow was supposed to be the day we signed all the agreements and went over the final details of our plan."

"Nothing illegal, I hope," Thad cautioned before sipping his drink.

"Not in the least. Lila decided that if Jordan loses, she would sell out her stake in Stephenson and bring in someone that would take out those two bastards, and then make all the changes we're asking for. She found her man in Dalton Tolliver, CEO of The Tolliver Companies. Seems he's got a gay son and has been very supportive of the causes the boy fights for. Mother opened a casual dialogue with him at first, carefully working up to her proposal. The man's smart and loves a good fight, so he came onboard with little effort. There's real opportunity for him in merging Stephenson with his firm, so he agreed to Lila's demands without a fight."

"She's one tough old bird!" Thad said with a smirk. "You could have told me all this earlier, you know."

"I know, buddy, but everything has ears in my working world. If this got out, it would touch off a battle for control of the company. The firm's a prestigious prize and has many brilliant people in its ranks. If we walk in with a sale in hand, then it's over just like that. Those fucks would be done before they got up to bat, and there's nothing they could do about it. Even better, the good people left would be working for someone who cared about their future."

"If she sells Tolliver enough shares, then I can't see that it would matter much if people found out," Thad commented.

"There's one caveat, Thad. She has to live until the sale's completed. There's a provision in her share contract that dates way back to when my dad first made the investment. It states that if she dies, then the firm has an option to buy her stake back for a fraction of its worth and retire the shares, giving the partners outright control of the firm," Taylor told him.

A light bulb went off over Thad's head as a thought popped into his mind. "Have we been asleep at the wheel here?" he asked Taylor.

"I'm not following you," Taylor answered.

"Think about this. What if you and Jordan weren't the intended targets of that bomb? Is it possible that the blast was designed to kill your mother?" Thad inquired.

Taylor rubbed his chin as he considered the possibility. He became alarmed as he thought more, rising from his seat and yelling into the next room. "Micah, we need you in here. Come quickly." The security man entered with his gun drawn.

"Is everyone OK?" he asked excitedly.

"We're fine," Taylor said. "Sit down, there's something you need to hear."

Taylor recounted the tale of his family's investment in Stephenson, including the death provision. Micah listened closely as he divulged every detail.

"The point of all this is......what if my mother was the target?" Taylor asked him.

Micah took in what he'd been told; summoning all of his training and experience to decide if the idea was relevant. In the end, he concluded that the threat was credible and worth following up on.

"It makes sense," Micah admitted. "Don't be alarmed at this question, but where is she now?"

Bells and whistles went off in Taylor's head. "Holy shit! She's vulnerable as hell right now!" His heart rate rose and his throat constricted as he thought of Lila lying dead in a pool of blood.

"Ease up, Taylor," Micah ordered. "Tell me where she is and we'll get her safely here."

Taylor wrote down the address of the friends Lila was visiting. They'd been a part of his life for many years, so he knew their location by heart. Handing the paper to Micah, he begged him to hurry.

"You've got to get to her before they do, man," Taylor implored. "You can't let anything happen to her."

"Have faith, friend. A team will be on her within the hour. Get on the phone and make her understand she needs to go with them. No fights this time." Micah knew what it was like to go up against Lila from personal experience. You didn't win often when it came to her.

Taylor let out a large breath. "I'll try, but you know how she is. Tell the team to knock her ass out if they have to. Just get her here no matter what it takes."

"Count on it," Micah said as he left to make the arrangements. Taylor took out his phone and dialed Lila's mobile number. Voicemail answered on the first ring.

"Dammit," he yelled upon hearing the recorded greeting. "Why can't she ever turn her damn phone on!"

He dove back into his address book, locating the number of Sid and Molly Jensen, the friends Lila was currently staying with. Noticing it was now 4 A.M., he cringed as he considered the consequences of calling at such a morbid hour. After four rings, a soft sleepy voice finally answered.

"Hello," the female voice said.

"Molly, it's Taylor," he said to her.

"Taylor?" she asked in surprise. "Is everything alright, darling?"

"Everything's fine," he lied, "and I'm so sorry for calling at such a horrid hour, but it's vital that I speak to my mother. May I ask you to bring her to the phone?"

"Of course, dear," she said. "Give me a minute to throw something on and I'll get her up."

"Thanks, Molly. You're a peach. Let's get together soon and do that croquet rematch you owe me."

Molly giggled. "Definitely, dear. I've never enjoyed defeating anyone as much as I enjoyed beating you. I could use the ego boost. Hold on another quick second and I'll get Lila for you."

"Thanks again, Molly. Give Sid my love," Taylor said as the phone went silent. Moments later, an alarmed voice came on the line.

"What's wrong, child?" Lila inquired.

"Mom, I need you to listen without talking and definitely without arguing. A group of men will be there shortly to get you and bring you here. Don't question them, just do what they say. I promise I'll fill you in on everything once you're with me. Just go with them, please."

"Taylor, I can't," she began. "Molly and I are attending..............."

"Mother!" Taylor shouted, interrupting her mid sentence. "For once in your life, just do as you're told. You're in danger for Christ's sake and you need to go with these men. Trust me and I swear that everything will become clear when we see each other."

Lila was silent for what seemed like ages. "Very well. If you insist......"

"I do," Taylor said, interrupting her again. She might follow along but he was sure to pay for the curt way he'd dealt with her. "I'll see you in a few hours, and remember no arguments!"

"You have my word, child," Lila promised. "See you soon." The line went dead once she finished, and Taylor looked up to find Thad grinning.

"Croquet?" he asked Taylor with a raised brow.

"Don't ask. It's a long story," Taylor said back.

"Were you able to contact her?" Micah asked when he came into the room.

"You're all set. She might even listen to my no arguing rule," Taylor said.

Micah gave him an impressed look. "Good show. My team's underway and should be there soon. You have my word that she'll be here in one piece no later than 7A.M."

"Thank you, Micah," Taylor said genuinely. "Let me know when she's close."

The security agent nodded and departed again, leaving Taylor to notice the worried look on Thad's face.

"What?" he asked his friend.

"Does Jordan know about your mother's plans?" Thad queried.

"No, and he doesn't need to!" Taylor exclaimed.

Thad cast him a disappointed look. "Maybe you should reconsider your stance on this. It wasn't so long ago that this same attitude caused a major eruption between the two of you."

"I understand that," Taylor explained, "but he's got so much on his plate right now. I can't add to it, Thad, not right away. Once everything's worked out, I'll come clean, I swear."

Thad shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Taylor, I'm your friend as well as your attorney. Give Jordan some credit here. He's an adult and you promised to treat him like one. Don't fall back now when you've come so far."

Taylor rolled the advice around his head for a while. "I guess you're right," he conceded. "I imagine you think I should tell him right away."

"Damn straight, Skippy," Thad said. "Do it before you change your mind."

Taylor's ringing phone broke their conversation, causing Thad to roll his eyes in frustration.

"Yeah," Taylor answered, his eyes pleading for a little patience from Thad.

"She's on her way," Micah said, referring to Lila. "ETA is approximately two hours."

"Thanks, Micah and great job!" Taylor congratulated. His previous unease with his protection team's leader had fully passed and he was impressed with the man's sincere efforts.

"OK, where were we?" Taylor asked to annoy Thad. It worked.

"Dammit, Taylor! Get your ass up and go tell Jordan all of this! NOW!" he ordered.

Taylor laughed at his reaction, drawing another look from his friend. "OK, OK, I'm going." He departed the room and peaked through the slightly open door. Jordan was lying in Vin's arms, apparently sleeping. His friend was cradling him like a child, rocking him gently while whispering sweet nothings to him. It was a sweet scene that caused Taylor's heart to ache for the man he was so in love with. Very quietly, he pushed the door open and moved to join them.

"Hey," he said softly. "How's he doing?"

"He'll be OK," Vin responded. "He's just really shaken up and the stress of it all really got to him. How are you holding up?"

Taylor shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, I suppose. There's been some new developments and I actually came in here to let you guys know about them. I'm not sure we should wake him, though."

"Definitely not, sweetie. He needs to rest for a few hours, then maybe he'll be in better shape to process all of this," Vin advised. "You could use some rest too. Why don't you lie down with him and catch a few winks."

"I can't," Taylor said. "I've got a security detail bringing my mother here for her safety. It's become a distinct possibility that the explosion was meant for her."

Vin looked at Taylor in shock. "Lila? Why in the world would anyone want to kill someone that's spent so much of her life working for the common good?"

Taylor sighed. "Money, plain and simple. We could be wrong, but if we're right, they'll try to murder her again."

"Figures," Vin said sadly. "Do what you've got to do, Taylor. I'll keep an eye on Jordan while you wait. Maybe we'll wake him when she gets here."

"OK," Taylor said. "And thanks, Vin. Don't know what we'd do without you and Thad."

Vin smiled wickedly. "Lead dull and boring lives!" he kidded as Taylor left the room in search of Micah.

At the same time, a corner office on the top floor of the Stephenson building had somebody in it. This was an odd time for a person so high up in the organization to be at the office, but these weren't ordinary times. The suite was luxurious, reflecting the man's status as someone very important in the company. The walls were paneled in a shiny mahogany with carpets so thick you sank into them. Rare works of art adorned the walls, and the furniture was mostly antique, the kind that was so heavy it took several strong men to move each piece. The office boasted a full wet bar, an adjoining bathroom with shower stall and a small bedroom, all perks of the job. Jim Gardener sat behind his desk, sipping vodka on the rocks and looking at the room around him.

He was proud of his accomplishments and felt that he'd leave a lasting legacy behind. At age 58, he'd risen to the top of one of the premier investment boutiques in the country and commanded respect from all corners of the globe. With a phone call, he could hold the ear of prominent business people and politicians who valued his sage advice on matters of importance. Lately, though, his firm grasp of the world around him had slipped so badly that he felt trapped and useless, a pawn in a game that had spiraled out of control.

"How could I be so foolish?" he pondered while sipping his cocktail. "This has gone way too far, and I'm to blame."

He looked at the pictures of his family that sat on the desk before him. What would they think if they knew the extent of his involvement in this charade? Would he ever be able to look his children in the eye and admonish them to do what was right again? The guilty feelings had consumed him, and he'd been desperately trying to find a way out of this mess. Rollins had him by the balls, though. If he went down, then Jim Gardener was sure to go down with him. As a generally decent man, however, he'd begun to believe it was a small price to pay for the wrongdoing he was such an intricate part of. People were being injured now, and that was never part of the original plan. He'd let his desire for vast wealth and power cloud his judgment. There was one thing that played in his favor, though, and he decided to leverage that to his advantage.

Ed Rollins was a talker and his arrogant belief that his band of criminals was invincible was a chink in his armor. As a hedge against blackmail, Gardener had been recording their conversations for months, always wearing a hidden tape recorder during their meetings. Using his vast connections, he'd also arranged to have his phones bugged, giving him further chips to play in the event of a debacle. It was all held on the computer discs his fingers idly traced as he grappled with his conscience. They implicated him as well, but spending a few years in prison was better than the assault to his sense of right and wrong he currently endured. He needed to restore his sense of honor and was ready to face the music for his lack of back bone. Taking a deep breath, he opened his cell phone and dialed the number a police contact of his had acquired earlier that day. It was late he knew, but never too late to do the right thing. After several rings, a voice answered.

"Hello?" it said, obviously wondering who the unknown number belonged to.

"This is Jim Gardener and I'll get right to the point. I have something I think you'd be interested in seeing and need to meet with you right away. I know it's late, but it's of the utmost importance that we do this now before anything else happens."

"What guarantees do I have that his isn't a ploy to catch me in an unscrupulous situation that could cause hurt beyond repair?" the voice asked.

"There are no guarantees except my word as a man, son," Gardener replied. "You either take the chance or you don't, but I assure you that the risk is outweighed by what you stand to gain. I need your decision now."

The voice was silent for several seconds. "Where?" was all it finally said.

"The airport parking garage, level 6, in the orange section. No police or I'll destroy the evidence I've accumulated. Be there in one hour," Gardener ordered.

"Fine," the voice said in a suspicious tone and the line went dead.

Gardener closed his phone and guzzled down the last of his vodka. Locking his precious cargo in a briefcase, he turned out the lights and rode the elevator to where his BMW was parked. He took a deep breath and started the engine, driving off in search of redemption.

As he pulled into the street, a nondescript Chevrolet sedan also started and moved off in casual pursuit, staying back and keeping tabs on his mark's movements. He made a phone call while following, receiving instructions from his superiors, who told him to stay close and keep in contact. The man lit a cigarette and drove on, keeping his eyes glued on the fast moving sedan in front of him.

Thad Barber looked around his study in astonishment. The call he'd received was nothing he ever expected and he felt uneasy as the prospect it could all be a hoax. Knowing he could be in danger if he went alone, he summoned Micah and Taylor into his office to go over what had happened. The two came in and found seats, becoming anxious at the bewildered look plastered across his face.

"We've got another situation," he told them. "I just got a call from Jim Gardener wanting to meet in an hour so he could give me something he'd thought I'd be interested in."

His two companions looked at each other in confusion. "I know Jim Gardener very well and I find it highly unlikely that he's being above board here," Taylor warned.

"Part of me feels the same way," Thad agreed, "but what if he's being truthful? What if he's got something that could help all of this go away?"

Micah considered the situation. "If you want to go, then we need to get moving on this right now. I refuse to let you go alone, and I need to get some of my people in place to make sure you remain safe."

Thad and Taylor looked to each other for a decision. The look in their eyes said it all. "We need to go," Thad told Micah.

The agent nodded and left to make plans for the operation. He dispatched several groups to the parking complex that were close by and could arrive well in advance of Gardener. The team was probably larger and more heavily armed than needed, but Micah was leaving nothing to chance. His call sent people scurrying and men were soon moving as directed. With any luck, they wouldn't be needed, but they'd be there should anything go awry. Satisfied that things were set, Micah went on to inform his associates in the penthouse of their moves.

Thad and Taylor were nervous about the impending meeting.

"Do you think he's being credible?" Thad asked.

Taylor gave him a look of doubt. "He's basically an honorable man. If we're correct about all this, though, there's huge numbers involved and they might be big enough to make an honest man think twice. I'd say there's a fifty percent shot that he's full of shit."

Thad shifted in his seat, not happy with those odds. "Maybe we should let Micah and his guys grab him, but then we might have legal issues of our own to contend with. I don't have a good feeling about this, but if he is being honest, then what he has might answer a great many open questions."

"Indeed," Taylor agreed, "but we have to be careful. Somebody is really determined to succeed here and may stop at nothing for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."

"Rainbow?" Vin asked curiously as he walked in, causing Thad and Taylor to look at each other with apprehension. It didn't go unnoticed.

"What are you two up to?" he asked the men suspiciously.

"Sit down for a second," Thad said, pointing to an empty chair. Vin thought about protesting but decided against it and sat down.

"I just got a call from Jim Gardener asking me to meet him so he could deliver something he thinks I need to see," Thad said.

Vin's face scrunched up, giving an indication of his disapproval. "And you're going, I suppose," he said with growing anger.

"Not alone, but yes, I am," he replied.

Vin was not amused. "Thad Barber, you're a lawyer, not a cop. Call the police and let them deal with this. You're putting yourself in harm's way so you can be some kind of hero and I won't have it!"

Thad came around the desk and knelt on one knee before his husband. "Baby, I understand how you feel, but our best friends were nearly killed tonight. If there's a chance that what he's got will help keep them safe, then I have to do it. I'm not out to be a glory hound here, I just think I need to do what's right. Can you appreciate that?"

Vin took Thad's hand and rubbed his cheek across it. A single tear fell and made its way downward. "I couldn't go on if anything happened to you, baby," he said with a cracking voice.

Thad embraced him tightly, whispering into his ear. "I'll be fine, snookie. I would never leave you and you know that." Vin buried his face in Thad's shoulder and shook with worry. Micah, who'd observed the entire exchange, came in to try and reassure Vin that all would be fine.

"He's right; nothing's going to happen to anyone. My men are crawling all over that garage now, so we're prepared for any contingency."

Vin looked him in the eye doubtfully. "You better be!" he said coldly before rising and exiting the room, pushing roughly past Micah. Thad remained knelt down, his head hung as he was filled with doubts of his own. Taylor saw the conflict within him and moved to his side.

"Stay strong, buddy," he encouraged. "We'll be just fine and maybe we can put all of this behind us soon and get back to the business of life."

Thad gave him a faint smile. "Let's do this before I change my mind."

The two friends rose and followed Micah to the elevator, unsure of what lay ahead. They'd put their fate in Micah's hands and hoped that their decision was a sound one. When they got downstairs, they climbed into the van and moved on to face whatever might come their way.

The white Chevy sedan watched the BMW enter the parking garage. The driver backed off and entered the ground level lot for long term customers. He made another call to inform his handler of the latest development. The man became agitated at what he heard, and made a bold call.

"Handle him," Rollins commanded. "Don't fuck up this time, either. Let me know when it's done."

Nick O'Malley knew he was finished if this went down wrong. He took a nine millimeter pistol from his glove compartment, checking to make sure the the weapon was fully loaded and ready to shoot. Attaching a silencer to the end of it, he exited the vehicle and moved stealthily into the structure in search of his target.

Gardener parked two levels down and took the stairs the rest of the way up. Micah's people, who were hidden at various points, caught sight of him and communicated his movements with radios like the Secret Service uses. They spoke in hushed tones and used code names in case their transmissions were being monitored. Micah held his earpiece as he carefully listened to their words. He brought the microphone to his mouth, pushing a button and giving orders to keep their man in sight. The agents acknowledged and made sure that other strategically placed coworkers would pick him back up once he entered their line of sight.

"He's here," Micah told Thad and Taylor as they reached their destination. "Now listen carefully. Let us go in first so we can join my guys and make sure it's all safe. I'll send word when we're ready and then you come up. Got it?"

"Got it," they answered in unison. The van parked a level beneath their chosen rendezvous point and Micah ran off into the darkness. Thad's heart raced as the suspense mounted, making him wish he'd stayed home with Vin. Before he could back out, though, Micah gave the all clear and the driver told him to get moving. He took Taylor off in another direction to observe the action.

Thad rode the elevator up and found Gardener leaning against a column. He approached him slowly and with much trepidation.

"I'm Thad Barber," he told the man.

"I know who you are," he barked. "Don't come any closer." Thad froze and saw that the man was more nervous than he was.

He unlocked his case and pulled a large manila envelope from it. Holding it up to Thad, he threw it across the ground, and it came to rest at his feet. The lawyer stared at the package, unsure of whether he wanted to pick it up or not.

O'Malley made it to level six in time to see the envelope get exchanged. He hadn't been expecting more than one person to be there, but killing two instead of one didn't require much additional effort. He removed his pistol from its holster and crawled quietly forward, trying to gain the best possible angle for the hit. He was so focused on his target that he failed to see the two security men posted nearby. They saw the drawn weapon, however, and responded quickly. Taking aim, the agent pressed a button and a metal probe shot forward, embedding itself in O'Malley's leg.

The man's scream was snuffed out when a massive charge of electricity traveled down the wire attached to the dart and left him writhing on the ground in agony. The commotion was heard by Thad and Gardener, causing them both to jump and take to the ground for cover. Micah ordered his team out and they soon surrounded the two cowering men. After getting the all clear signal, Micah emerged and helped Thad up, retrieving the envelope from the ground. Taylor moved to Gardener and got him upright, then stared at him with ice cold eyes. The man looked away, not able to face one of his victims.

"I thought I told you no police!" he raged at Thad.

"We're not the police, we're here to protect these two men," Micah told him. "If we hadn't been here, then I'd venture to say you'd be lying in a pool of blood with a bullet in your skull."

His men carried O'Malley out and dropped him on the ground in front of them. Another man held up a plastic bag that contained the pistol he'd intended to use for killing the meeting men. Gardener went white and became nauseous, his worst fears affirmed.

"Thank you," he said to Micah sheepishly.

O'Malley began to come around from his shocking experience. He saw Micah and the team, knowing he was in serious trouble. The men roughly pulled him to his feet and pushed him before his former colleague. Micah wanted to beat him senseless, but a ring from his phone distracted him from his severe rage. He took the device from his captive's pocket and held it out to him.

"Tell your master it's done," he said to O'Malley.

"Go fuck yourself!" was the reply.

Micah's face tightened in anger as he looked away for a moment then drew his pistol. He placed it on the man's forehead and pulled the hammer back. "Do it now, mother fucker or I'll pull this trigger and splatter your brains all over the concrete."

The crazed look in Micah's eyes let O'Malley know he was dead serious. He'd seen it many times in the past, and the results were usually deadly. Grabbing the phone, he brought it to his ear and spoke to his master.

"It's done," were his only words.

"Good," Rollins said as he hung up.

The team hurried O'Malley away and loaded him into a waiting vehicle. Another pulled up and took Gardener away; presumably to hide him until things settled down. Taylor and Thad stood with Micah staring at the envelope. All of them wondered what was held inside it, but the ever cautious security man held out his hand asking Thad to turn it over.

"I'll have my people check it out and make sure it's alright to open. I also need to make copies for the FBI as I'm sure they'll be interested know what's happened," Micah said. Reluctantly, Thad turned over the evidence. The men then got into a waiting car for transport back to the penthouse and safety.

Jordan woke with a start to find himself in a strange room. His mind was foggy from the lack of rest and the stressful events he endured, so it took a moment for him to realize where he was. He was surprised to see not only Vin sleeping in a chair, but Lila sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at him. The men who'd picked her up made her aware of the attempted assassination and she look down at her son's lover worriedly.

"How are you child?" she asked a still groggy Jordan.

He stretched his body heartily as he said, "Better, I think."

Lila reached out and caressed his face. "I'm so glad. I was worried sick that you and Taylor were seriously injured or worse. My mind's been racing with all kinds of horrible thoughts. I'm relieved to know that my favorite son in law is OK."

Jordan blushed at the reference. "We're fine, mom, I promise, just a bit shaken up. Where's Taylor?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "I just got here a little while ago and he wasn't here."

Jordan became worried as his gut told him something wasn't right. Wanting to know what was going on, he got out of bed and went to the kitchen. He found a security guard, Greg Cochran, making himself a cup of coffee. Jordan went to him on a quest for information.

"Where's Taylor?" he asked Greg directly.

The man looked at him, his expressionless face never changing. "He and Mr. Barber had to go out for something. They'll be back soon, sir," he said to Jordan.

The answer drew a heated response. "Don't fucking patronize me! You're hollow answers won't do this time! Now answer me, god dammit. Where are they?"

Vin woke up when he heard Jordan yelling. He and Lila joined them right away, anxious to know what the entire ruckus was about. When he realized what Jordan was crowing about, he came to him and attempted to diffuse his anger.

"Jordan, calm down. They had to go," he said. "Gardener called Thad and told him he needed to meet. Apparently, he's got information he thinks we need. Micah's got a ton of people with them, so they'll be OK."

"I expect them back any minute," Greg added.

This felt eerily reminiscent to Jordan and he was distressed about it. "Why didn't anyone think to tell me about this?"

"Honey, you were so stressed and had finally fallen asleep. If you need be angry with someone, then be angry with me. I told Taylor to let you rest," Vin said.

"That's a crock, Vin," he shot back. "You know if Taylor had truly wanted me to know, then he'd have woken me up. This is the same shit as before, and I can't believe you're a party to it!"

Lila put a hand lovingly on his shoulder. "I think I can explain, child. Come sit and listen to what I have to say."

Out of respect, he did as asked and took a seat on the couch. His blood was boiling as he thought Taylor off doing his bidding. Lila might shed some light, but he refused to let her son off the hook so easily.

"Taylor and I have been working on something to make sure that the people at Stephenson responsible for your problems pay for what they did to you," she said.

Jordan looked at her incredulously as she continued. "In case your suit failed, I've struck a deal to sell my shares and those of my allies to a man that will ensure the firm changes things for the better while protecting the hard working people that stand to lose their livelihood should things go on as they have. I chose not to tell anyone for confidentiality reasons, not for a lack of trust. We intend to storm the board with a signed letter of intent so nobody could say a word about it. I'm sorry if you think we were trying to wrong you, but I would do it again if I were faced with the same situation in the future."

Jordan shook his head in frustration. "Why is it that everyone thinks they need to take on my problems for me? I was doing what needed to be done, for Christ's sake. Can't you people get that through your heads?" His anger was turning to hurt, and he felt that those he cared for most were letting him down in a major way.

"Child, you've worked with Wall Street types long enough to know that information is the hottest commodity you can have. Denton Tolliver has committed millions of dollars to this deal and I won't take the chance that some idiot would throw it all away for personal gain. Again, I'm sorry if I've hurt you but it had to be done like this until we were sure that everything was set," she said.

"What's Taylor got to do with any of this?" Jordan asked, not ready to buy off on what Lila had told him. "The shares belong to you, and you didn't need his approval to sell."

"Actually, I did," she said quickly. "Unbeknownst to him, I transferred control of the trust that held the shares to him several years ago. So you see, none of this can happen without his approval."

As Jordan chewed on the latest details, Greg received a message from Micah in his earphone. "They're coming up now," he told the group. Vin breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing the good news. His friend wasn't too sure how to react.

Minutes later, the guards escorted Thad and Taylor back into the apartment. Vin ran to his husband and hugged him hard, covering his face with kisses. Taylor took Lila in his arms, happy to see that she'd been delivered from harm's way. When he bent down to kiss Jordan, though, his man turned his face. Taylor was taken aback by the action, expecting him to be happy that he had returned safely.

"Get what you wanted?" Jordan asked curtly.

"We should know soon," Thad answered. "Micah's people are checking it out now."

He looked at Taylor scornfully. "Up to your old tricks, huh?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"It means that you've done it again, you bastard. With all we've been through, I can't believe you'd keep me in dark again!" Jordan railed.

"That's not fair, Jordan!" he tossed back. "This all happened so quickly there wasn't time to explain. We did this for you and I thought you'd be pleased that we might have something that helps your cause."

"I wasn't given a choice in the matter. You all took it upon yourselves to take care of things for me once again. I hope it works out for you!" he yelled, then stormed from the room, leaving a stunned silence behind. The door to the bedroom slammed as he went inside.

Taylor jumped when it made a loud noise. Anger and frustration filled him as he thought about how ungrateful his lover was being. This was an occasion for cautious celebration, not spoiled anger. With every part of his body girding for battle, he went to the bedroom and thrust the door open, finding Jordan sulking on the bed.

"I don't know what's up your ass, little boy, but you're temper tantrum made everyone pretty upset. You're acting like a spoiled child!" he exclaimed.

Jordan stared at the floor, saying nothing. His fear that things were back pedaling was so great that he was unwilling to hear any explanations given to rationalize what had happened.

Taylor became annoyed at the silence. "Fine, just sit there! But you can listen while you mope. I know we've been through a very traumatic night, but I refuse to allow you to blame me for something I haven't done. I love you, Jordan, more than life itself, but if helping you means an episode like this every time, then I don't know what to tell you. People try to do what they can for each other when they're in love, baby. They may not always do it the proper way, but they still do it because they care, dammit. If you can't handle the fact that we all care about you so much, then we have no business being together!" He did an about face and left the room. Without a word, he bypassed the assembled group and secluded himself in the study. The other three looked at each other, unsure of what to do from here. Vin looked down the hallway, and came to the conclusion that it was time for some tough love. He went toward the door, paused outside it momentarily, then moved inside. Jordan was on the bed as before, clutching a pillow and blankly staring ahead.

"You OK?" Vin asked him.

Jordan took quick breaths and became visibly upset. "No, I'm not," he said before the tears fell. "Am I so blind that I couldn't appreciate that they rushed into the line of fire because it might help my case? Jesus, what's happening to me?"

Vin sat down next to him on the bed. "I don't think you're blind. I just think you're not able to see things clearly. Someone tried to kill you last night and you've hardly slept. Maybe you should cut yourself some slack."

"I can't!" Jordan sobbed. "Taylor's right. I am acting like a spoiled child, but I'm afraid......afraid that we might lose each other to these madmen and afraid that things are going back to the way they were."

"I would have to agree.....you are acting like a child," Vin said plainly. "That man loves you so much and would give his life to make yours better. You need to take a chill pill and learn to be thankful for it, sweetie. Everyone wants you happy and we're busting our ass to make it happen."

Jordan cried harder, ashamed of his poor attitude. Vin wasn't as sympathetic to his sadness this time around.

"Instead of crying about it, get your ass up and go apologize to Taylor. You need to tell Lila you're sorry too. Don't think, don't analyze, just do it. This is a minor storm that will blow over if you wise up and let it go. Now, come on, up and at em, boy!"

He took a hold of Jordan's arm and pulled him to his feet. He used a tissue to dry his tears and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Jordan. You're the best friend I've ever had. Please fix this so we can all try and be happy for a while."

Jordan nodded and slowly went into the hallway. He walked into the living room and found nobody there. He peaked into the kitchen, where Thad and Lila were having coffee. He stayed quiet so he wouldn't alert them to his presence. Continuing on, he reached the study and tentatively knocked on the door. When no response was received, he opened it and carefully entered, finding Taylor lying on a leather sofa. He shut the door and let his weight fall against it, struggling for the right words to say.

"You're right," he blurted out, grabbing Taylor's attention. "I've acted horribly and don't deserve all you've done for me. I'm really sorry and I promise to think before I speak next time. I'm very, very scared right now and I think it's impairing my judgment. Can you forgive me for being such an ass?"

Taylor stared at his man silently. "Do you have any idea how much I adore you? Do you have any clue what any person here now would endure to make you feel safe and happy?" Jordan looked at his feet, afraid to see what was in his lover's eyes.

"I would venture to say that they love you so much that they'd do just about anything for your protection," he continued, "I know I would, baby. Sometimes, though, you've got to trust that we'll always do right by you because we love you."

"Taylor, I'm scared. What if this doesn't end? What if even after the trial they keep coming for us?" Jordan asked.

Taylor sat up and patted the spot between his legs. Jordan wasted no time crawling in and snuggling up close. He felt his favorite strong arms wrap him up as his unease was quelled some. "Baby, if we got what I think we did from Gardener, then we'll be able to set off a few bombs of our own."

"What do you think it is?" Jordan asked.

"I'm not totally sure, but if I know Jim, he's covered his ass in case things went south. I'm guessing that he felt guilty about the bombing and decided enough was enough. Micah's people are checking it out now," Taylor said to him.

"Could it have been a trap? If he'd taken Thad out, that would have complicated things for us," he said.

"I thought so at first, but when the guards shot the assassin with a Taser, that kind of changed my mind," Taylor said in an off the cuff manner.

"Assassin?" Jordan asked worriedly. "What the hell, Taylor? You didn't tell me about that!"

Taylor kissed his head lovingly. "I wasn't exactly given a chance."

Jordan's heart filled with remorse. "I really am sorry and I hope you can excuse my behavior. I still want to know what happened. Will you tell me all about it?"

For the next half hour, Taylor filled Jordan in on everything. He started with the brainstorming session that yielded their alternative theory and ended with the meeting on an airport parking deck. Jordan listened carefully as all the gory details were laid plain.

"Weren't you guys scared? I mean you had no idea what could happen," Jordan said in amazement.

"Hell yes we were!" Taylor replied. "We decided that it was worth the risk, though, and trusted Micah to keep us alive. He was masterful, and I truly believed he was gonna kill that gunman. I've never seen one pair of eyes so cold in my life like his were today."

"Why didn't he pull the trigger?" Jordan wondered aloud.

"Maybe it was just postponed. This security group came highly recommended from individuals who fear for their lives on a daily basis. They provide protection services all over the world, and employ some mighty scary characters from the intelligence community. Take Micah, for instance. He worked for the CIA for nine years as a covert operative in the Middle East. Guys like that have to be pretty bad ass to survive like they do," Taylor said.

"So they'll kill the shooter eventually," Jordan said.

"Who knows, baby and who wants to know. What they do with that guy is up to them and I don't think they'd tell us anyway. It's company business."

"You're right. Information like that could get someone else killed," Jordan agreed.

"Absolutely!" Taylor said with a large yawn, which caused Jordan to follow suit.

"I think we should close our eyes and rest some," Jordan said.

"Mmm hmm," Taylor said sleepily. "The world can do without us for a while."

Jordan pressed them together and kissed Taylor's soft lips. "I love you," he said.

"Love you too," Taylor replied before drifting off. Jordan laid on his chest listening to his heartbeat. The regular rhythm relaxed him and he joined Taylor in getting some much needed sleep.

While the lovebirds slept, Lila was busy as a beaver. She knew that the bombing would make both local and national headlines. The reaction of the public was sure to enhance the already large armies of people protesting in front of Stephenson's offices. Since Denton Tolliver was publicity averse, recent events might throw their deal in jeopardy. Even if Jordan won his suit, Lila had decided to unwind her family's position in the notorious enterprise. To accomplish that, though, she had to keep Tolliver onboard. She regarded honesty as the best policy, and her dealings here would be no exception. Dialing the private number she'd been given by the man himself, she nervously waited for him to answer. He did so before the second ring.

"Lila," he said, "always a pleasure to hear from such a gorgeous woman!" Tolliver was known for his prowess with the ladies. At age sixty eight, he'd recently ended an affair with an actress less than half his age. The expectations of society were never of great concern to him, something that made Lila like him all that much more.

"Denton, you are such a charmer," she said in her best southern belle accent. "We could never be together. I'm more than twice the age of your usual girls, honey."

Tolliver guffawed at her observation. "Lila, my dear, you are twice the woman any of them could ever hope to be and you only get better as the years go on!"

She actually blushed at his flattery, and couldn't be happier he wasn't there to witness it. Her reputation as a shrewd businesswoman could have been lost forever. "We need to talk some business, Romeo. There've been some new developments the press hasn't caught yet, and I wanted you to hear them from me."

Tolliver got quiet for a moment. "If you're referring to the bombing at your son's home, I'm already aware of that. Damn shame in my opinion."

"Thank you for the kind words, Denton, but it's become much more complicated and may involve both Ed Rollins and Jim Gardener."

"How involved are we talking?" he asked.

"Ringleader involved," Lila said. "Gardener met with my son's attorney earlier and turned over evidence that I'm sure implicates somebody high up in the company."

Tolliver thought about the consequences to their proposed merger. "Lila, this could be bad, very bad. I still want the firm though. If we don't move quickly, then you and I stand to lose a bundle. In the interest of saving face and profits, I suggest we complete the transaction in the next forty eight hours."

Lila swallowed hard. Two days wasn't much time with so much still in the air, but she couldn't let this chance escape her. "Fine, Denton. Forty eight hours it is, and thank you again for your concern. I deeply appreciate it."

"My pleasure, little lady. Looking forward to seeing you tonight at the St Jude's benefit. I expect a dance or two for my troubles," he said.

Lila was frantic inside as they wrapped things up. "You got it, fine sir. See you tonight and again the day after tomorrow." They ended the call after that.

This was a charity event she couldn't miss, and she'd forgotten all about it. She'd spend months raising funds for the children's hospital and was expected to present a large check to the organization's chief. It was a must attend event and she only had hours to prepare for it. The major worry was going to be Taylor and the guards. She was sure they would recommend she not attend, but that wasn't possible. Presenting her gift and keeping Denton happy were of paramount importance, so they'd just have to deal with it. Rolling into action, she got back on the phone and arranged for her outfit to be delivered to the penthouse.

Meanwhile, Micah waited for word about the discs that Gardener had turned over from his computer experts. He'd been pacing for over an hour, growing more impatient by the second. Unable to wait any longer, he sought out Ronnie Chen, a UCLA PhD who served as their resident computer expert. His talent with electronics was impressive, and he was called upon to analyze data regularly. The company also used him for some extra pursuits, not all of which were legal. Chen had a reputation as the savviest hacker around, a skill that Micah suspected he'd be needing in the near future. For now, though, he needed to know what was on those discs and he needed to know right away. He burst into the man's office, intent on demanding answers.

"You scared me," Ronnie said, looking up from his monitor for only a moment.

"Sorry, dude," Micah said, "But I can't wait anymore. I need to know what you've got so far since we're running out of time. Cough it up, son!"

Ronnie rolled his eyes at Micah's attempt to talk like a hipster. "Well, Daddy-O, I've learned some interesting things. I can tell you that, in my brilliant opinion, the contents are authentic and show no signs of tampering."

Micah waited for more, growing agitated when Ronnie said nothing else. "Jesus Christ! What's on the fucking discs?"

Ronnie smiled thinly. "It's better than the winning lotto numbers. This guy must have recorded every conversation between him, a man named Ed Rollins and another named Hiram Gibson."

Micah knew who Rollins was, but the third man was unknown to him. "Who the hell is Hiram Gibson?"

"Thought you might ask that," Ronnie said while consulting his printouts. "The fine reverend runs a band of freaks called the Army of God. They mostly protest against gay rights, but the FBI has taken an interest in them lately. It seems they suspect the man of bombing a center for gay teens in California. No proof, though, so no charges."

Micah huffed. "The fall guy, I presume. Anything else you found?"

"Shit yeah!" Ronnie exclaimed. "These three and others have been buying up chunks of stock in a bank called Lithia. Ring a bell?"

"Sure does. Stephenson is representing them in their defense against a hostile offer from a German bank. The case my client has brought against them is causing major headaches there," Micah said.

"Well, I did a little 'digging' and managed to identify five offshore shell companies that have an appetite for Lithia shares. One was legitimate, but the other four are ghost companies. If the bank does get bought out, these boys will be living high off the hog for years to come," Ronnie informed him.

"Who's the weak link in the chain, Ronnie?" Micah asked.

"My guess would be the bible buster. His involvement in this is sketchy, but there is mention of a huge payment waiting for him offshore when this is all done."

"Any idea how much money?" Micah inquired.

"Seven figures is all I've heard mentioned so far. The religion business must be booming because I found accounts in his name totaling over eight hundred thousand dollars here in the U.S. I also found that he runs a camp in West Virginia that supposedly converts homosexual men to straight ones. The stories of escapees are quite disgusting," Ronnie said.

"Whoa," Micah responded. "That's a chunk of cash for a servant of God!"

"Yes it is, yet I can't find evidence of a single tax return filed in the last five years," Ronnie revealed.

Micah's mind began working. "I think this man needs a visit from a team of IRS agents," he said smiling.

Ronnie joined him. "Mr. Brown and Mr. Smith, auditors extraordinaire?"

"Yes siree!" he replied. "Keep checking things out and get those conversations transcribed. I want to prepare a care package for our friends at the SEC and FBI."

"You got it, boss!" Ronnie said as he returned to his electronic world. Micah went off to hand pick his team for this delicate assignment.

Lila began searching for a conscious person in her luxury prison. She found Taylor and Jordan sleeping soundly together. The sight was so precious that she had to stop and regard it for a while. It was refreshing to see such a sweet scene amongst all this tyranny. Vin was nowhere to be found either, but his bedroom was shut, leading her to believe he was crashed as well. She did find Thad and Greg in the kitchen involved in a high stakes game of penny a point rummy. Gathering her arguments for going tonight in her head, she marched into the kitchen to present her case.

"Gentlemen," she said to Thad and Greg. "It has come to my attention that a very important gala that requires my attendance is tonight, and I need you to set up whatever it is you do so I may be there."

Greg had been expecting trouble like this all along. He was surprised it had taken so long. "Out of the question," he told Lila.

"Nonsense, child. Merely arrange for a squad of goons to accompany me and I'll be just fine," she replied.

"Mrs. Bryant, with all due respect, there's no way in hell that we can risk your safety for something as trivial as this," Greg insisted.

The word "trivial" didn't go over well. "Young man, I'll have you know that I have traveled to every corner of this country begging for large donations to help this fine organization. I've succeeded too, if I may brag for a moment. Therefore, it's mandatory that I be there to present a large check to them. Anything less is totally unacceptable!"

"I think your efforts are commendable, ma'am, but the answer is still no," Greg told her. Thad saw where this was headed and jumped in to try and prevent what was sure to be a major confrontation.

"He's right, Lila. Use your head and you'll see that your life isn't worth the chance here. Besides, if you died then the millions of future dollars you stand to raise would be lost to time," the lawyer suggested.

Lila wasn't backing down. "I'm going and that's that, young man. I suggest you get on your phone or your radio and make the arrangements for my safety. If you decline, I'll simply have to take my chances."

"God dammit," Greg said under his breath. "This isn't up for discussion and you'll be staying here even if I have to lock you in a bedroom until this is over!"

Lila's social graces splintered and her anger became all consuming. "I am Lila Barrington Bryant! I'm a rich old bitch and I'm used to getting my way. That means not even a bully of a rent a cop is going to stop me!!"

Greg lost his cool as well, embroiling the two in a shouting match. Thad joined Greg in fighting Lila's stubbornness, urging her to reconsider. The volume escalated to the point that it woke Jordan and Taylor, who came to the kitchen in hopes of learning what in the world was going on. They watched the three adults verbally scrap with each other while trying to figure out what the fight was about. Unable to discern one voice from another, Taylor put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, stopping the brawl cold.

"What the hell is going on here?" he raged. Everyone began talking at once, so he held his hand up until all was quiet again. He nodded to his mother, who began spilling the story at a mile a minute.

"The St. Jude's ball is tonight and it's imperative that I attend. Your enforcer here has other ideas and has threatened to sequester me in a bedroom until it's over. Son, this can't happen. I need to be there for these children, they're counting on me," she said, trying to appeal to his soft side. Greg, though, gave him no time to think.

"She can't go, Taylor. We could never provide for her safety in a venue like that!" he argued. "You know Micah will never allow it anyway."

"The hell with what Micah thinks!" Lila retorted. "I'm an adult and will go where I please."

Her consternation started the conflict all over again. The decibel level exceeded their previous one as Taylor fought to retain order. An idea popped into Jordan's head as he watched the conflagration, one that might satisfy the agent's concerns. Forcing his way into the middle of the battling adults, he drove them apart and yelled for quiet. His outburst brought them silent once again.

"What if she had an escort that took the attention off of her?" he asked.

"And who might that be?" Greg asked skeptically.

"Me," Jordan answered quietly. The looks showed that everyone, Lila included, thought the young man had finally cracked. He was determined to lay out his reasons, though.

"Think about this logically," he began. "If I'm by her side the entire night, then I might present a more tempting target. You can wire me so that your team will be able to hear all that happens. As far as the ballroom, you protected Thad and Taylor in a parking garage, so I can't imagine that this wouldn't be a piece of cake compared to that."

Greg wanted to argue, but he knew the younger man was right. They'd set up in places far tougher than this one, pulling it off without a hitch. It would send an army of agents scrambling as there was only about eight hours to go before the event. "I'll run it by Micah. If he agrees, then I'll go along," Greg said.

"A wise move for your career, young man," Lila sneered. Greg ignored her comment and excused himself to consult with his boss. The remaining adults all trained their gaze on Jordan, still shocked at what he'd proposed.

"Are you crazy?" Thad asked.

"This is too great a risk, baby. Let one of the security men escort her," Taylor added.

"No, my love, I can't. I feel like I've been sitting on the sidelines through all this and it's time I acted. If you can risk your life to get information we know nothing about, then surely protecting our mother is more important," Jordan said.

"You could be killed and I can't bear to think of living without you," Taylor protested.

"What do you think?" Jordan asked Lila.

"I fear for you safety, but you're an intelligent adult. If you wish to share the risk, then who am I to deny you," she said proudly. Jordan beamed as he stared at Lila, but Taylor was nowhere near finished arguing against his man escorting her.

"Dammit, mom!" he exclaimed angrily. "You've never been selfish in your life, and now you're not only being selfish with your own, you're being selfish with the life of the man I'm in love with!"

Lila looked into his eyes calmly. "My dear son, this is what I've been trying to get across to you for the last few months. Jordan is a grown man, and while you might not care for every decision he makes, he's free to make them without undue influence from you or anyone else. He extends that courtesy to you and you owe him the same in return. Love is built on trust, child, so trust the one you love right now."

Taylor opened his mouth to counter but no words came out. No matter how hard he searched his brain; the right thing to say couldn't be found. Taylor knew his mother was right again, but this time was different. The greatest love he'd every known was putting himself on the line, and for a person he wasn't even blood related to. He had to admit that he admired his spirit greatly right now, and to shoot it down would do irreparable harm to their union. With a sigh, he stopped fighting.

"Fine, baby, go keep an eye on my mother. Micah has the final say, though. If he says no, then all bets are off," Taylor said.

They all agreed and Lila excitedly took down Jordan's measurements. She phoned a friend and made sure a tuxedo with a tie and vest would be sent over in time for her escort to dress for the gala. Taylor got on the phone to Micah, soliciting his honest opinions.

"You know how pig headed she can be. She's not going to stop until we figure it out, so don't worry....we will. I like the idea of Jordan staying near her. Might give any would be attackers something to chew on," Micah said.

"They'll be in the open and vulnerable!" Taylor said in exasperation.

"Listen, this is a children's event. These people may be cold blooded, but they're not stupid. Hitting someone at an event like this would be a disaster for any message they were trying to drive home, plus the cops would go ape shit. It would be hard for them to lay low during a citywide manhunt. We'll do like we did last time, a well armed, well trained team who won't be seen. If there's trouble, they'll come out of the walls to help. Nobody's going to die on my watch, Taylor!"

"I don't know, Micah. It's still awfully risky," Taylor replied apprehensively.

"He's going to be wired. While I sit with you and Thad to go over what we found on these discs, the sounds that everyone else is hearing will be broadcasted to us as well. I'm even planning on putting a backup bug on Jordan, that way if one stops transmitting, we'll have the other. It's also GPS equipped, meaning we can track his movements," Micah told him.

"You won't be there?" Taylor asked.

"I can't. What we found is too important to ignore, and you guys need to know about it. Greg will be in command. He has my every confidence and will make this work. Relax, man, things will be just fine," he said.

"Alright, but for the record, this is a stupid idea and if anything happens to Jordan, I'll see that the entire team will only be able to work at McDonald's for the remainder of their lives," he cautioned.

"It's a deal," Micah said. "Be there at six to go over final details." Taylor hung up without a word, his gut telling him disaster lay ahead.

TO BE CONTINUED....