Manly-WBeaconsfieldWelcome to BeaconsfieldD. J. ManlyeXtasy eBooksCopyright © 2008 by D. J. ManlyErotica/Mainstream. 55940 words long. First published in extasybooks.com, 2008 enNoveltext/xmlErotica/Mainstream

-----------------------------------
Welcome to Beaconsfield
by D. J. Manly
-----------------------------------

Erotica/Mainstream

eXtasy eBooks
www.extasybooks.com

Copyright ©2008 by D. J. Manly

First published in extasybooks.com, 2008

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

CONTENTS

Part 1

Beaconsfield: December 25, One Thirty a.m.

PART 2

About the Author

* * * *

Welcome To Beaconsfield

By

DJ Manly

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Welcome to Beaconsfield

Copyright ã 2008 DJ Manly

ISBN: 978-1-55487-072-1

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.extasybooks.com

Part 1

It was three days before Christmas and bitterly cold in New York City. The downtown Manhattan precinct was swamped with calls. It seemed that crime was suddenly soaring out of control.

“You'd think the cold would be enough to keep them inside,” Clint Walker replied to an overwhelmed detective who asked him what in hell they were supposed to do with all these complaints.

At that moment, Gian Davinci dragged a man into the precinct and corralled him into a chair in front of his desk.

“You got the wrong guy, dude!” The young man with a black skullcap on his head screamed at Davinci, who was in no mood to listen.

Gian shook the snow off his long black hair with disgust as he removed his long black leather coat and threw it over his chair. “Shut up!” he growled. “You were at the scene. You were carrying a TV and a DVD player out of an electronics shop. It doesn't take rocket science to figure it out, Jesus Christ.” Gian glanced over at Clint who stood at his office door chuckling. “Sure, go ahead,” he called good naturedly, “you can laugh.”

“You look cold,” he pointed out then, still laughing, disappeared inside his office.

Gian rolled his eyes. Work had been hell lately, in part due to the weather. They were on the brink of yet another blizzard and they were all on overtime due to a flu epidemic. The cold snap they were experiencing was bitter, but it had done nothing to curb crime. In fact, for some reason people seemed to be going nuts.

“I have a right to a phone call,” the guy yelled.

Gian sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Yeah, well you better call a lawyer,” he muttered, walking over to him and pulling the cap off the guy's head. He tossed it on his desk.

“Hey,” the guy protested, pointing to his hat. “You can't do that. I think that's police brut ... brutal ... ity or ... somethin'.”

“Tell it to a judge,” Gian plunked down in his chair and brought up the form he needed on the computer.

“I don't know any lawyers. Couldn't you cut me some slack?” the guy pleaded. “It's only a couple of days before Christmas and I got a sick grandmother and—”

“I'd play the violin,” Gian told him, “but I couldn't afford the lessons. Name?”

When he had finished booking the guy, Clint came out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Cap,” Gian said.

Gian always called him Cap at the precinct, but at home, he was Dad. He'd first met Clint at the age of twelve. He was continually getting into trouble and Clint took an interest in him, finally figuring out that Gian was calling out for help. Gian's parents died in a car crash when he was ten. His uncle had taken him in and at the age of eleven began sexually abusing him. Clint and his wife, Sam, had no children of their own except for a little girl from Africa they'd adopted. When Gian was twelve, Clint and his wife legally adopted him as well.

Clint and Sam were his parents in every sense of the word and after a few years of living with Clint, Gian fell in love with police work.

Clint was going on about Christmas now. Sam's parents were arriving tomorrow and Gian knew Clint dreaded the thought of it.

“Do you want me to pick up Grandma and Grandpa Smith at the airport?” Gian asked, fiddling with one of the Christmas decorations, which had come unstuck from the wall.

Clint shook his head. “I'll do it. Sure you wouldn't consider moving back into your old room just for the holidays?” He gave him a hopeful look.

Gian laughed. “Stop whining. They're only here until New Year's.”

“It's going to be a long holiday.”

“I would come home for the holidays, but I'm on nights all week.”

“Even on Christmas night?” Clint gasped. “Your mother won't like that.”

“I volunteered to let the guys with a family have it off. Some have kids.”

“You're a good guy,” Clint slapped his back. “What did you get me for Christmas by the way?”

“On my salary?”

Clint rolled his eyes.

“I'll never tell.”

Clint moved closer, lowering his voice. “Are you bringing that nice young fellow for Christmas dinner again this year?”

“Clint,” Gian whispered back with a smirk, “Don't worry. I'm not with that nice young fellow anymore.”

“Don't make fun of me,” Clint clicked his tongue. “I've made progress on this subject.”

“Yes, you have,” Gian slapped him on the back. “You can whisper about my being gay now, as opposed to just nodding when no one's looking.”

“You know I'm supportive,” he protested. “I participated in a March last summer for parents of gay children.”

“I'm just teasing you. And yes you did. I was proud of you.”

“I do wish you'd find someone to settle down with though,” Clint poured himself some coffee. Around them, the phones were ringing and some woman was yelling and cursing at a uniform in the corridor.

“No one wants to settle down with a cop,” Gian sipped his cold coffee, “Especially not someone like me who's married to the job. I'm never home. You know how Mom gets and you don't even go undercover any more. I could be gone for months on some case. What kind of life is that for someone?”

“There is someone out there for you.”

“And lots of em', too,” he winked wickedly.

The Captain shook his head. “Too much information.”

Gian laughed. Suddenly someone called to him and he went to answer the phone. A few minutes later, he was out the door again.

As Clint was walking out, Gian came back in, dusting off his hair. “False alarm,” he announced.

Carlos Gambini, the desk sergeant suddenly hollered to Clint. “Captain, there's a guy over there,” he pointed to a man sitting on the bench beside the door, “who insists on talking to someone in charge.”

“No problem,” Clint glanced at Gian, “you see that guy over there,” Clint pointed.

Gian turned to look at him, “Yeah.”

“He says he needs to talk to someone in charge. Well I've got good news for you, guess what, you're in charge,” he sang and walked out before Gian had time to reply.

Gambini laughed when he heard Gian groan.

“What's his problem?” Gian asked Gambini, leaning on the desk.

“Don't know. Wouldn't tell me, but he says it's important.”

“Isn't it always?” Gian quipped.

The man stood when Gian walked over to him.

“I'm Sergeant Davinci. What's this about?”

“Mark Taylor. Can we talk somewhere...” he looked around, “private?”

“Sure, come on,” Gian told him. On his way past the front desk, he said, “Anyone want me, I'm in the Captain's office.” Gian unlocked Clint's office, walked in and then indicated the chair in front of the desk. The man closed the door behind them.

Gian shrugged out of his coat and threw it aside. He fell into the chair and stuck one booted foot on top of the desk. “What's this about?”

“If I knew there were cops down here that looked like you, I'd come by more often.”

Gian fixed him with a serious stare. “Mr. Taylor?” He was not in the mood.

“Oh, sorry, look, I need to tell you something that's been going on where I work ... well ... worked, past tense. I was fired the other day.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Gian replied absently.

“I worked at Beaconsfield. Do you know it?”

“Yeah, it's a juvenile lock up.”

“What if I told you that there are guards there sexually abusing some of the residents?”

There was silence. Gian put his foot down and leaned forward. “You have proof of this?”

“I was there when it went on.”

“In the same room?” Gian lifted an eyebrow.

He nodded.

“How long did you work there?”

“Three years.”

“And you witnessed this going on for three years?”

“Just about,” he replied.

“And you are just in here now reporting it?” Gian's voice grew a little louder. “Did you participate in this abuse?”

“Well...” he hesitated, “not like the others.”

“What about the administrator, does he know anything about this?”

Mark shook his head. “I doubt it. It's done late at night, down in the basement, in the boys’ section. There's a room.”

Gian raised an eyebrow, then sat back in his seat. He remembered going there once a few years back when he was a rookie, but he had only been driving the squad car. They had dropped a girl off who'd been convicted of assault and battery. He fixed his gaze on Taylor. “Are you willing to lodge a formal complaint?”

“No.”

“No?” Gian echoed. “Then what in hell are you doing here?”

“I thought you might arrest the three guards. It was the head guard, Andy Falcon, who fired me.”

Gian sighed. “I can't just march in there and arrest someone without evidence. I suggest you go to the labour commission, Mr. ah ... Taylor.”

“But I tell you ... there is abuse going on. Don't you care? You're a cop, aren't you?”

“Are any the boys willing to talk?”

“Oh no, they won't say anything. Can't you just go in and investigate?”

“I have to have probable cause. I just can't take your word for it because you are pissed about losing your job. What about any of the boys who are no longer in the system ... victims willing to talk?”

Mark thought for a moment. “Ah ... I know one, but he's a bad character. I don't know ... if...”

“Well, do you know his name, where he lives?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Gian repeated with a sour look on his face. “What do you want from me exactly?”

“I want those three guards arrested.”

“Arrested for what exactly, abusing kids or for firing you?” Gian stood. “Until you bring me some proof and are willing to put ink to paper—”

“I thought the police would care at least...” Mark Taylor stood, too. “I thought you could do this tonight.”

“Listen, I told you, we need evidence and if you're not willing to even fill out a complaint, how in hell do you expect me to do anything?”

“Maybe I can think of that guy's name. What if he would tell you stuff?”

“It depends on what stuff he is going to tell me,” Gian threw back.

“What if you pick me up tomorrow at one in the afternoon and I take you to him?”

Gian rubbed his rough jaw. “Look, this better not be some sort of a hoax, Mr. Taylor.” He pointed at him. “If you're wasting my time, I won't be happy.”

“Here's my address,” he handed him a card. “I'll expect you at one o'clock. I swear I'm not lying.”

“You do realize that if you're telling the truth and if you actually witnessed this stuff without reporting it, you're an accessory.”

He swallowed. “I'll deny everything I said to you tonight.”

Gian ushered him out of the office. “Okay, I'll be there, be waiting outside.”

He nodded and left.

On the way home, Gian thought about what Mark Taylor had told him. If what he had said was true, it was disturbing. It was too bad the slimy bastard didn't come forward until he lost his job. What a creep.

The next day at one in the afternoon, Taylor was waiting on the curb at the address he had given to him. He climbed into the car and flashed a smile at him. “Were you scared to come up to my place?” He asked him, checking out the car.

Gian drove away from the curb and ignored the insinuation. “What's the address on this guy?”

“Wow, you're all business. Okay, he lives just a ways down the street. Go straight until 128th then hang a right. It's on the corner. I forget the address.” He checked out the siren sitting on the dashboard. “So is this really a police car?”

“Yeah,” Gian replied briskly, “go figure.”

“You got a boyfriend?”

Gian cast him a look. “Why in hell would you ask me that?”

“I saw you on television last year. There was a local telethon for AIDS and you were one of the fundraisers for the New York City police force and Fire Department. You said you were gay.”

Gian stopped at a traffic light.

“I thought that was pretty brave.”

“What's so brave about it? I'm not ashamed of who I am.”

“So, you got a boyfriend or what?” Mark insisted.

“Don't worry, Mark. Even if I didn't have one, you wouldn't even make the list.”

“Oh, okay, not good looking enough for you, eh?”

“It's not your looks. I'm not inclined to be turned on by people who participate in the sexual abuse of children. Sorry, it's just this thing I have.”

“You would have been turned on if you'd been there,” he accused.

“Watch your mouth. Children don't turn me on,” Gian replied hotly.

“Some of them are older, seventeen, eighteen, young men waiting for transition houses. They're hardly boys,” Mark replied. “And some of those boys, as you call them, have done more in bed then you have, I bet. They've been prostitutes.”

“And that makes it all right to abuse them?” Gian threw back at him angrily. “These people are in custody. They are under the protection of the state. Whether they enjoy it or not is irrelevant. And when you are confined to an institution, you don't have a hell of a lot of choice, do you?”

“I think some of them do enjoy it, even if they protest,” Mark told him.

“Look, just shut up, okay, before I slug you.”

Mark fell silent.

Gian pulled up in front of a rundown old tenement building. “What is this guy's name?”

“Jerry, Jerry Samson.”

Gian got out of the car and shut the door. Mark stepped out of the passenger side. It had stopped snowing, but it was still cold.

They walked up the stairs of the building together. It was a dump, dirty and smelly, people yelling and screaming in their apartments. When they arrived on the third floor landing, Mark pointed to the apartment door. “Thirty-one, he lives in that one.”

“Knock on the door. I'll be right behind you,” Gian told him, looking around him.

Mark knocked.

A young guy answered the door. He was completely naked except for a pair of dirty underwear. The sweet smell of pot wafted out into the hallway.

“Markie,” he howled, “how in the hell are you, sweet stuff?”

Mark turned around, “Jerry, there is someone I want you to meet.”

“Great ... great ... come in, come in.” He ran his gaze over Gian. “Hell, Mark, is this my Christmas present?”

“No,” Gian said as he walked in and closed the door behind him, “I'm not your Christmas present.” He opened his jacket and showed him the badge hanging around his neck.

The place was a mess, clothes and food everywhere.

“Hey, what is this, Mark? What's going on? I'm clean, Man,” he looked at Gian.

“I'm not here to arrest you,” Gian said, “just to ask you a couple of question.”

“About what?” he stammered.

“About Beaconsfield.”

He laughed. “No shit.” He was obviously stoned. “So, Officer,” he came closer to him, “is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

“It's a gun in my pocket,” Gian told him without expression.

He danced away from him. “Couldn't resist,” he told Mark, laughing. “He is a big boy, isn't he?” He went to sit at the table and ran a hand through his hair.

Gian didn't want to sit on anything. He gazed at him. What a fucked up mess he was. “Taylor here tells me there are boys being sexually abused at Beaconsfield. Is that true?”

He looked up at him. “Could be. Why should I tell you?”

Gian shrugged. “'Cause I'm askin'.”

“What do you care?”

“I'm standing here in this garbage dump, aren't I?”

He rubbed his forehead. “What did you go tell him that for, Mark?”

“I got fired,” Mark replied.

“That figures. Anyway why ask me this shit now? I'm out of there.”

“Right, so you got nothing to lose.” Gian told him.

He met his gaze. “God, you're a looker, aren't you? If we'd had guards who looked that good ... well...” he laughed, “might not have been so bad in there. The jerks working there are ugly slobs.”

“So you were sexually abused there?” Gian probed.

“You might say that.”

“A lot of other boys, too?”

“Yep.”

“By the same men?”

“Yep,” he replied. “Although sometimes they'd bring in strangers ... you know ... who would pay, but mostly on the weekends. The rest of the time, it would just be them.”

Gian frowned. “What about the director?”

“He don't know shit. He's gone at night. It was always at night.”

There was silence. Then Gian said, “Would you be willing to tell that to a judge?”

“Nope. What's done is done.”

“Done for you, but what about the boys there now?”

“Used to it probably, besides they're not my problem.”

Gian sighed. “No. It doesn't seem to be anyone's problem,” he said, glaring at Mark Taylor. He headed to the door. “Thanks for nothing.”

“You're more than welcome, sweetie, and anytime I can do nothing for you, let me know,” he called after him as he and Mark Taylor made their way outside.

Gian remained silent until he got into the car and then turned to Mark. “That was a waste of time. I'll take you home.”

Before Taylor got out, he paused and looked at him. “What are you intending to do about all this?”

“Nothing I can do,” Gian replied.

“Nothing? How can you do nothing?” Mark accused.

“The same way you did nothing for three years Taylor, except that I got a better excuse. I have no evidence except for the word of a disgruntled employee who was fired and a stoned kid who used to live at Beaconsfield. My advice to you is to find yourself another job.”

He was back at the precinct sitting at his desk an hour later. There were a lot of things going through his mind. You just couldn't take on an institution like that. You needed proof. He knew that those places were breeding grounds for sexual abuse, but he had nothing.

When Clint came in, Gian went to talk to him about it. Clint was concerned, but he said the same thing. “I can't authorize any investigation unless we have more proof than that.”

Gian nodded. “What if there's a prostitution ring going on in there as well? I mean, if I could find men who were actual clients out there ... well then we might just be able to get an undercover operation approved right?”

“How are you going to find clients? They aren't exactly going to be shouting it on the rooftops.”

“Mark Taylor knows a lot more than he's letting on. He must know how Johns get hooked up out there.”

“I don't like it. We don't have any evidence and who would we send out there?”

“Me. I'll go,” Gian told him. “I could apply for Mark Taylor's job.”

“I don't think it should be you.”

“Why not?”

“It brings back a lot of shit, Gian.”

“I'm way past that now, Clint. Talk to the commissioner.”

“He's not going to let you disappear without probable cause,” Clint shook his head.

“All right, God damn it, I'll get proof.” Gian slapped his hands on the desk.

“I've seen you like this before, determined, passionate. There's no stopping you, is there?”

“If I can get one of those two jerk-offs to put this stuff in writing, do you think the commissioner will let me go out on this one?”

“I don't know, but don't waste too much time, okay? I'll give you twenty four hours to bring me something I can take to the commissioner, then we put it on the back burner.”

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing his coat.

“Gian,” Clint said, “you do realize what a challenge it would be to go undercover there? The person would have to keep their cool, perhaps witnessing some things without ... well ... losing...”

“You don't think I can do it?”

He nodded. “Of course you can do it. Go on now.”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Beaconsfield: December 25, One Thirty a.m.

Daniel looked over at Cory who was laying there in the dark on the bunk bed below him. “Maybe they won't come tonight because it's Christmas,” he whispered.

Cory raised his gaze above him. “Keep telling yourself that, Daniel,” he threw back at him. “If it makes you feel better.”

“Why are you trying to discourage me?”

“I'm not trying to discourage you. I'm trying to get you to face facts. You haven't even been here a year yet and you're a naive little punk. I've been here four years and I told you before, Christmas don't make no difference to them guys. If anything, they get worse. They sneak a little liquor and party on down.”

“I don't want to go there tonight,” he whimpered.

“Come down here, Danny,” Cory told him, reaching up to him.

Danny scampered down into bed with him and Cory put his arm around him.

Danny was only thirteen years old. Even though his whining got on his nerves, he felt kind of protective toward him. He hated those guys more for what they did to Danny than for what they did to him. Sure they hurt him and they humiliated him, but he could take it. He was a grown man now and any day now, he knew he'd be out of here.

Danny cried like a baby the first time they'd taken him down there to that hellhole. There had been a lot of blood.

Cory had screamed at them and called them animals, which earned him a punch in the mouth.

Usually when they got hit, it was in a place that didn't show, but that time Andy lost his temper completely. He had to tell the director he fell. Now as they lay together in the stillness of the night, Cory could feel Daniel tremble and he knew it was only a matter of time.

It was usually Pug who came to get them. They called Paul Decouteau, Pug. He was originally from Louisiana and he had a face like one of those dogs. It was Cory who gave him the name and it stuck, although none of the boys dared call him that to his face. He was a mean bugger and the youngest of the three. He stood about five ten and had prematurely grey hair and long sideburns. His hair matched his steel grey eyes and eyebrows and he was always spitting. Cory was sure that he must have been the type of kid to pull wings off butterflies. He enjoyed torture. He once tied a string around his testicles and pulled him up off the ground. The more Cory cried out in pain, the more he pulled. Cory learned to swallow his tears, which helped considerably, since Pug would soon become bored and leave him alone.

The other guard was twenty eight year old Tim “Earring” Anderson. He had a large gold hoop in one ear, which he removed when the director was around. He wasn't as sadistic as Pug, but he had some pretty kinky tastes. He was blond and skinny and had a tattoo of a dragon down the length of his back.

The boss was Andy Falcon. He must have weighed around three hundred and fifty pounds, none of it muscle. When he was on top of you, you could hardly breathe. He was no more than five-five in height with rolls of fat around the middle. He was proud however of his enormous sexual organ and used it like a weapon. He could be brutal. Cory had two ribs cracked once by him and a dislocated shoulder when he was fourteen.

Sometimes they brought strange men down to that room and they had to do as they were told or face the consequences. Cory knew they made a lot of money sometimes on the weekend, but the boys never saw any of it.

Cory had been around the longest of any of the others. Some of the boys who had been taken to that room with him in the past were now gone. Other new boys appeared all the time. Right now, there were five of them who bore the brunt of it all. Andy chose only the boys he fancied. Unfortunately, he had remained one of Andy's pets, as he referred to them when he was in one of his rare good moods.

Daniel was the latest victim. He was blond with rosy cheeks and blue eyes and popular with some of the men who came on the weekends because he was so young.

The three others they brought down often were fourteen-year-old Frank who had been a street prostitute like himself, sixteen-year-old Tony who looked more like a girl than a boy and another sixteen year old everyone called, Ace, because he was good at cards. Suddenly Cory stiffened. He heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He knew those footsteps.

Danny whined again, “Please, Cory,” he said.

“It will be okay, Danny, don't worry. Just do what I told you, close your eyes and think of other things.” Cory felt tears threaten. He held them back. He had found out a long time ago, it did no good to cry.

When Pug came in and walked over to the bed, Cory sat up.

“Come on,” he hissed, “get moving.”

Cory took Daniel's hand and pulled him off the bed. Daniel cowered beside Cory as Pug pushed Cory ahead of him. “Come on, ain't got all night.”

They walked down that long dark corridor, the corridor Cory had walked a thousand times. Cory held Daniel close to him. He could feel his fear.

They turned and walked down some stairs, both in their bare feet and pyjamas. They reached the basement and walked down to the end of the hall past the furnace and into that room.

Andy and Tim were in there, passing around a bottle of liquor.

Pug pushed them both inside and bolted the door.

“Merry Christmas, boys,” Andy bellowed. “Come over here,” he said to Cory “and get some Christmas pudding.”

As he walked over to him, Tim reached out and ripped off the pajama bottoms.

Daniel hid his face as his, too, were pulled down by Pug from behind. Cory turned to see Pug place Daniel on a stool and tie his hands over his head to the radiator above.

All Cory could do was listen to Daniel's helpless cries and try to ignore the pain and humiliation he felt.

When it was finally over and the three men passed out from too much liquor, Cory managed to get himself out of his binds. He was good at that now. He untied Daniel, who was half-asleep, and all but carried him back to the room. They were safe now, at least until the night came.

* * * *

Gian sat beside his sister Kayla, telling her something that was making her laugh. They had finished dinner and were waiting for dessert.

They continued to whisper something to each other, which caused Clint to give them a severe look. He was trying to look patient as he sat listening to his father-in-law who insisted that New York was a decadent city.

When Grandpa Smith began talking about how terrible the world was becoming, Gian leaned over to Kayla and made a scary sound, which caused her to laugh.

“Yes, my goodness,” Martha Smith was saying, “today, nothing means anything and young people are having sex and babies. It's horrible and those ... those ... gay persons ... my goodness, they just want to do everything now ... have babies and get married. I think that's immoral.”

There was total silence in the room, even Sam who was bringing out the dessert stopped in mid motion.

Clint took a breath. He didn't want to have a fight on Christmas Day, but Gian was sitting right there in the room. He'd better say something. Better him than Gian. He cleared his throat. “Well,” Martha repeated, “we all have to change with the times. Ah ... look at that marvellous cake,” he said as Sam put it down in front of them.

Kayla squeezed Gian's hand under the table and grinned at him. She leaned in and said, “I love you, even if you are immoral.”

He grinned back. “Oh thank you, thank you.”

Clint was rambling on about the weather, relieved to be past the subject. He was digging into his dessert when Sam suddenly said, “Mother, I would like to say something.”

Everyone froze. Martha Smith looked at her daughter. “Of course, dear, what is it?”

“I don't think gay people are any more or less immoral than anyone else and I realize now where I got those despicable idea's I had years ago. I'm so glad,” she smiled, “that my son made me a better person because of who he is and I'm proud to say that my son is gay.”

Mrs. Smith almost lost her fork.

Kayla and Gian widened their eyes at the same time.

Clint just mumbled, “Well said.”

There was no more discussion of that subject the rest of the day.

Later in the kitchen, Gian reached over and kissed his mother. “That was the nicest thing you've ever said,” he told her. “Thank you. I know it took a lot of guts.”

She looked at him and touched his cheek. “I'm as proud of you as I can be and I will never let anyone put you down for being who you are. You are so handsome, strong and smart. You're a good man, Gian, and you happen to be gay and that's part of who you are, too. I can never be ashamed of that.”

He hugged and kissed her again. “Thanks for being so good to me. You and Clint, well you were what was missing in my life, and Kayla, too.”

“You better say and Kayla, too,” she complained, coming into the kitchen.

Kayla was five foot eight, very slim with black curly hair and beautiful eyes. All of a sudden, she jumped on Gian and grabbed him around the neck, “Okay, immoral queer cop, you, let's go. It's your move.”

He laughed, turned around and, heaving her up onto his shoulders, raced up the stairs. “Immoral queer, eh? You'll see when I take your queen.”

“Never!” She shouted from upstairs, whooping and hollering. “You may be a queen, but you'll never take mine.”

“Oh, you're going to pay for that one!”

“What in hell is going on now?” Clint asked, coming into the kitchen and hugging his wife.

Sam shook her head and laughed. “Just like old times, isn't it?”

* * * *

The following morning, Kayla woke Gian up early. She jumped up and down on his bed like a kid. Gian rolled over with a groan. “Witch!” He accused with a smirk as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Look what I found,” she laughed, dangling an old battered pair of skates at him.

“Oh God,” he growled, “Where did you find those?”

“Out in the garage. So, come on, get up. Let's go skating.”

“What time is it?” he asked as he pushed her off his bed so he could look at his alarm. “Ah, it's only seven-thirty. Go back to sleep,” he moaned, rolling over and covering his head with the blanket.

“No way,” she hit him. “Come on, it will be fun. I'll buy you hot chocolate after.”

“With whipped cream?” he asked, peeking out from under the blanket.

“Maybe.”

He sat up and grinned. “Chocolate sprinkles, too.”

She laughed. “What a baby. I have to bribe you.”

“I can't go for long though Kayla,” he said. “I'm working at three this afternoon.”

“How come?”

“Because I'm a nice guy,” he said between clenched teeth as he got out of bed and threw on his robe. “Make me some coffee. I'll take a shower and we'll go.”

“All right, it's a deal.”

An hour later, they were skating on a little pond not far from the house. It was a place they had skated together years ago. He had mixed memories of those days ... the days he'd first came to live with Clint, Sam and Kayla. Clint had sent him to counselling to deal with the sexual abuse he had suffered at the hands of his uncle, but it was tough. He still acted out every once in awhile. He ran away once, but didn't stand a chance of not being picked up, given who his foster father was.

Therapy had been hell. He'd blamed himself for the abuse. He felt somehow he had invited it and he had a difficult time accepting the fact that sometimes he had been aroused, especially once he hit puberty. The counselling helped him to understand that he was a child and was no way responsible for the advances of his uncle. She also let him know that it was all right and perfectly normal to experience arousal. This was sometimes involuntary and beyond an abused child's control.

She also taught him to embrace his sexuality. He was gay and he needed to separate his sexuality from the abuse he had suffered. They were two different things. One was bad, the other was good. If he was ever going to have a normal sex life, he had to be comfortable with who he was.

Eventually, he had embraced his sexuality, even developed pride in it. The counsellor hooked him up with an organization, which dealt with gay teenagers and he made friends.

Kayla was his shining light through it all. She treated him like her brother from the start and made him feel as if he finally had a family. They would go skating often and sometimes talk for hours, going round and round on this pond. He loved her dearly. He felt really fortunate to have been chosen to be Clint and Sam's son. These people had changed his life. He didn't want to think about what would have happened to him if he hadn't gotten away from his uncle.

Now his mind was on Beaconsfield as he raced around the pond after Kayla on his old beat up skates. He had nothing to take to the Commissioner, but that didn't mean Mark Taylor and Jerry Samson were telling lies. It didn't matter what Taylor's motives for coming to him were, the fact was that everything he heard sounded plausible. He was going to talk to Taylor again today. He knew more than what he was letting on, the scumbag.

Maybe the D.A. would be willing to grant him immunity from prosecution if he gave a statement. A statement would have to be enough to open an investigation. The one thing he hated about his job was the red tape and regulations. Sometimes he knew something bad was happening, but his hands were tied. Before you got permission to do anything, it was too late. If there were boys being victimized by guards in Beaconsfield, then one more day was one day too many.

In the coffee shop, Gian drank his hot chocolate as Kayla laughed at him. “You have whipped cream all over your mouth. You're such a baby.”

He wiped his mouth and presented her with a screwed up face. “Thanks. I'm sure that inspires the citizens of Manhattan, knowing there's a baby on the police force. They can sleep soundly at night.”

She grinned. “Instead of drawing his gun, he takes out his rattle and shakes it at you! Baby Cop ... coming soon to theatres near you.”

“Yes. Be afraid,” he said, “be very afraid.”

They both howled with laughter.

“So tell me stuff. How is work?” She sobered.

“Work is ... frustrating and exhausting.”

“And you love it?”

“I'm a glutton for punishment,” he replied. “What about you? How's the legal stuff?”

“Tough, but I really like it. Don't tell Dad but I think I'm going into Civil rights law.”

“He's going to blow a gasket,” Gian laughed. “But I think it's great.”

“He tells me there's no money in it. He is talking like ... corporate law.”

Gian stuck a finger in his mouth like he wanted to vomit and Kayla grinned. “My sentiments exactly.”

“Do what you want.”

“I plan to. How come you didn't bring anyone to dinner this year? Was it because of Grandma Smith?”

“No,” he shook his head. “That would have been a good reason to bring someone to dinner, the most flamboyant gay boy toy I could find. I would have done him right at the table or on the table.”

Kayla howled with laughter. A few minutes later, she sobered and met his eyes, “What about that hunky fire fighter guy, what was his name?”

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah. Um ... he was nice.”

“He was too nice to have to sleep alone all the time.”

“I would have devoted some attention to that one.”

“Believe me, I wanted to, but we had shifts from hell. We were lucky to see each other once a month. He's living with a city counsellor now, quite a step up from a street cop.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugged. “I'm not ready to settle down anyway.”

“Too much fun playing the field, eh?”

“Don't have time to do that either,” Gian laughed. “I did go to Fire Island last summer,” he raised his eyebrows comically.

“And?”

“I'll tell you about it when you turn fifty.”

“Ha, ha.”

An hour later, they left the coffee shop and headed home. Sam had dinner waiting for them. They all sat down to leftover turkey.

“Gian, I'm having a party for some of the brass tonight,” Clint told him. “You're going to be here, right?”

Gian made a face at Kayla who hid a smile. “Well ... ah ... as much as I would hate to miss such a fun filled evening, I can't, I'm working three to eleven today.”

“Oh.” Clint muttered. “Forgot. You'll enjoy it, Kayla,” he added.

“She will, she will,” Gian nodded. “She was just telling me how much she is looking forward to it.”

Kayla hit him under the table and they both erupted into laughter.

“Funny,” Clint clicked his tongue, looking at his wife who was grinning as well.

Sam's father looked over at Kayla and winked at her. “Maybe Kayla will meet a nice guy.”

“Yuck, I'm not marrying any cop, Grandpa Smith,” she said, looking at her father and brother. “Sorry,” she added.

“Don't blame you there,” Gian said, getting up from the table. “Sorry, guys, I have to get ready for work.”

By two o'clock, Gian was putting his bag into his car. “I'm sleeping at my place tonight, Dad,” Gian told Clint when he came back inside. “I'll be in late anyway. I'll come by tomorrow.” He came into the living room and adjusted his gun in its holster. He leaned down and kissed Sam's mother on the cheek. “Bye Grandma Smith,” he said.

She patted his arm. “You be careful.”

“I will.” He went over to shake Grandpa's Smith hand. “See you tomorrow,” he said.

“Okay son,” he replied. “Go and give them hell.”

“I'm not going to war, Grand Dad,” Gian laughed.

Kayla gave him a big hug and a kiss and so did Sam. “Bye mom,” he said.

“Thanks for the DVD player, your father and I love it.”

“Good. I'll rent a DVD before New Year's and we'll watch it together.”

“That would be lovely.”

“No cop movies,” Kayla called after him as he headed to the door.

“Okay, but no cheesy love movies either.”

She laughed. “All right and by the way it's your move again.”

“Yeah, I know,” he waved at her and went outside. “You can say that now since you stole my damn queen.”

As he drove along in his car, he turned on the radio and listened to Hotel California by the Eagles. With all the snow, it didn't feel like California. He pulled up outside of the building where he had picked up Mark Taylor the other day. It wasn't officially three yet so he really wasn't on duty. He had a half hour to talk Mark Taylor into doing probably the first decent thing he'd ever done in his life.

* * * *

It was three in the afternoon at Beaconsfield and it was the day after Christmas. Cory sat in the Television room watching some mindless Christmas show. The three rancheros, as Cory liked to call them, didn't come on until almost midnight tonight so they were safe for the time being. This was his favourite time of day. It was quiet and they got to do what they wanted. There was no school or counselling sessions today.

Daniel was playing ping-pong in the other room with some of the other boys. He seemed to be a very strong kid in spite of the abuse he had suffered. After it was over, he would almost seem like a normal kid in the daytime but as the sun went down, Cory could see the panic set in.

It was a Friday, which meant there would probably be guests tonight down in the room. Paying customers that would come in for a little fun sometimes requested specific boys. He never knew a weekend of peace. He was always in demand. He couldn't figure it out really. He wished he could because he would do something to make himself less appealing.

When he looked in the mirror, he saw an unhappy young man with long dark curly hair and sad eyes. He didn't think that he was especially attractive, but many men had told him he was.

Anyway, right now, he wasn't going to think about later. He was appreciating the moment. That's how he lived in here, moment to moment. It's how he'd always lived. It had been just him and his mother when he was a kid. She was a junkie and, try as she might, she just couldn't seem to kick the habit. He was prostituting himself at twelve, trying to earn some money to buy food and pay the rent. They had been kicked out from almost every apartment his mother rented. Then he'd been arrested and when he first came to Beaconsfield, he was almost relieved ... then the abuse began.

* * * *

Mark answered the door with a huge smile on his face. “Couldn't stay away, eh baby?”

Gian scowled. “Right. Something like that,” he muttered, his voice heavily laced with sarcasm. “And don't fucking call me Baby.”

“Sorry, Mr. Sensitive ... Well come in Stud, Mi Casa e Su Casa.”

Gian walked in and looked around. It was a small crappy place with old furniture and pictures of naked men on the wall. Tacky. “Who's your decorator?”

Mark laughed. “Want his number?”

“Yeah, so I can advise him to go into another line of work.”

“You are so cute,” Mark told him. “You sure you don't moonlight as a stand-up comic?”

“No, I'm too busy dealing with the scum of the earth. And you can call me, Detective ... my name isn't Stud either.”

“Ah.” Mark replied, sitting down on the sofa. “So, since I imagine you didn't come here to ask me to dinner, what can I do for you?”

Gian walked over to the window, “I think you and I want the same thing, even though it's for different reasons. We want to see those guards behind bars, right?”

“Yeah.”

Gian turned around and looked at him. “But you got to give me more to go on.”

“I'm not making any statement to incriminate myself.”

“What if I was able to get some sort of guarantee that you wouldn't be prosecuted?”

“You could do that?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh God baby, so powerful, you're giving me a hard on now,” he rubbed his thigh and winked.

“You do realize,” Gian said, “that you came to a police station and confessed to a cop that you had sexually abused boys in custody?”

“I ... I never said I ... and I told you I'd deny it.”

“My word against yours. Anyway, I could arrest you right here if I wanted to.” He unhooked the cuffs from his belt.

“For what?”

“I'll think of something.”

“If I gave a statement, you could guarantee I wouldn't go to jail?” Mark stammered.

“I don't know. That depends on how much you're willing to tell me.”

“What do you want to know exactly?” He looked nervous.

“I want to know how they solicit clients for the purposes of prostitution. I want to know names of guards, of clients, of boys. That's a good start. Then I want you to describe to me exactly what is going on in there, what you witnessed.”

“In detail?”

“In detail,” Gian replied.

“All right. Sit down and I'll...”

Gian shook his head. “Not here, downtown. Come on.”

Mark sighed. “Damn, there goes my chance at seduction.”

“Maybe you can track down a pedophile and tell him your stories, I'm sure he'll be jumping you in no time.”

“Ha, ha, funny guy,” Mark said and they headed to the car.

* * * *

Tonight, they were all brought downstairs as soon as the shift changed. It was Tim with the big earring that came and got them tonight.

They were all stripped naked before they entered and paraded in front of four men, all over fifty. One man was smoking a big cigar. He went to Daniel and pulled him around so his back was facing him then dragged him into the other room.

Cory closed his eyes as he heard him scream. After a few seconds, he made a move toward the closed door but, Ace put a hand on his arm. “Don't, Cory, it will be worse for you.”

“Someone has got to do something,” Cory insisted.

“You got a lot to say over there sweetie,” another man said, standing up now. “Come here,” he demanded. The man had handcuffs. He handcuffed Cory's hands together. “Get down on your knees and crawl,” he barked.

Ace was being brought over to him now. One of the men spanked him with a paddle. He was blindfolded, a steel bar placed in his mouth.

As Cory performed fellatio on the man, he felt Ace enter him.

“That's it,” the stranger cooed to him. “You like that ... now for some real fun.”

Cory moaned in pain as Daniel screamed in the background.

* * * *

Gian placed a hand over his eyes as Mark described some of the sexual torture that took place in the bowels of the Beaconsfield institution. “It was stimulating. No taboos, you know. You would have been getting off yourself,” Mark told him.

Gian reached over the conference table at that point and grabbed Mark by the neck. He pulled him halfway across the table. “You son of a bitch.” He yanked him closer, shaking him as two other cops in the room tried to pull him off. “You stood there and let this happen. You fucking piece of—”

“Take a break,” one of the cops told him.

Gian's chest was heaving. He quickly left the room. He paced for a while outside the interrogation room, swearing. How in hell could someone do these things? He had nothing against kinky sex if it was consensual, but this was not by consent, this was imposing your will on helpless children, forcing them to do sex acts with complete strangers. Most of these men were just brutal animals. His uncle had never done things that bad to him.

Mark Taylor was as despicable as all the rest of them as far as he was concerned and for him to suggest that he might be turned on by it, made him feel like ripping his heart out.

He took a breath and went back in. “Okay,” he said, glaring at Mark Taylor. “I'm working on immunity for you, but I'm warning you, save your comments about what you imagine sexually arouses me because I swear to God, these guys here won't be able to stop me from beating the crap out of you.”

Mark grinned at him.

“I'd listen to him if I were you,” one of the other cops told him.

“Maybe he turns me on when he gets that look in his eye,” Mark teased, fluttering his eyes at Gian.

Gian sat back down across from him and gave him a meaningful look, “Guess you'll be the only dead man with a hard on.”

The other two cops laughed and then began to fire questions at Taylor again.

Gian was still there in the morning when Clint came in. Mark Taylor had signed a statement.

Clint sighed after he read it. “It's disgusting. It reads like pornography.”

“Tell me about it. Think it's enough to open an investigation?”

Clint looked at Gian. “You haven't slept.”

“I'll sleep later. Never mind that, what do you think?”

“I'll do what I can. No guarantees.”

“I want to go in now, damn it, not tomorrow. Can't you see what these kids are living?” Gian slammed his fist on the desk.

“I don't know about the immunity for Taylor.” Clint sighed.

“Look the guy is a shit, but I kind of promised him.”

“How are they getting the men to go there?”

“Internet.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. They have a private chat room that appeals to men who like boys. They give them a location, then go meet them and bring them there blindfolded so they don't know where it is. After they become regulars, doesn't matter if they know the location.”

“You want to go as a client or a guard?”

“A guard.”

Clint nodded and got up out of his seat. “I'll talk to some people. Go home and sleep. I'll call you when I get some news.”

Gian went home, but he couldn't sleep. He kept thinking of the things Mark Taylor said about the abuse that went on in that basement. It brought back memories of when his uncle would come into his room at night. He sat up in bed. That feeling of fear, trepidation, of counting hours, then minutes and finally seconds. It made his heart pound like a drum in his chest. He hadn't felt like that in a long time. He got up and washed his face, then looked at himself in the mirror.

What looked back was a man, not a boy, a man who had broad shoulders and a smooth well muscled chest, a man who was handsome and still felt cursed by that. He closed his eyes. He hadn't seen his uncle for years, but he could still picture his face and sometimes feel his hands on him.

He opened his eyes again. It was gone, the fear, the image in his mind. He lifted his long hair from his neck and leaned down to splash water on his face. He walked back to bed naked, not pausing to see himself in the full-length mirror. If he had, he would have seen a well-toned body, a beautiful man, but then he rarely stopped to look.

* * * *

New Year's came and Gian went to a party given by one of his friends. There were a lot of good-looking gay men there, but Gian wasn't very interested. His mind was elsewhere.

Clint had promised him some progress on the Beaconsfield investigation, but so far the department was dragging it's heels.

Patrick O'Reilly, a young lawyer who he had gone to college with, came to stand beside him. He handed him a glass of champagne, then nudged him with his elbow. “Hey, handsome, are you here at all or off in crime story land?”

Gian laughed and gave him a hug. “Hey, cutie, where's your ball and chain?”

“He's flirting with every guy he comes across,” Patrick grinned with that sweet smile. He had fire red hair and freckles.

Gian laughed. “I see.” He envied Patrick. He seemed to have it all, a regular nine to five job and a live in partner that he adored.

“That's what you should be doing,” he told him. “There are gorgeous men here, undressing you with their eyes, and you're ignoring them.”

He finished his champagne. “I'm preoccupied, that's all. So how is life?”

“Not bad, busy. We never see you anymore. I left one hundred messages for you on your machine, you don't return them.”

“I hate those things,” Gian replied.

“Then why do you have one?” Patrick shook his head.

“I don't know,” Gian replied, lifting his eyebrow. “My mother would kill me if I didn't.”

Patrick laughed. “We miss you. Come to dinner next week.”

“Okay. I think. Call me.”

Patrick gave him a doubtful look.

Gian laughed. “Call me at work,” he handed him his card.

“Detective Davinci. I'm impressed.”

“Don't be.”

“Since when do you have cards?”

“Since the department tells me I have to have cards.”

“See that guy over there,” Patrick pointed to a gorgeous looking African guy.

“Yeah. Cute.”

“Cute? He's beautiful. His name is Liam. He is successful, sexy and really nice. He asked me about you tonight ... several times.”

“Several times, eh?” Gian smirked. “Did you tell him I'm a cop? That usually makes them stop.”

“No,” he punched him. “I didn't want to make him run away,” Patrick teased. “Why don't you go talk to him?”

“Talk to him about what?”

“About ... I don't know ... something ... or ... don't talk at all,” Patrick winked.

“Sounds good. I'll just go over and jump him.”

Patrick smiled. “You're not still moping about that fire fighter guy, are you?”

“God, no.”

“That's good because he's here somewhere with his boyfriend.”

“Great,” Gian replied, swallowing.

“So you are ... still hung up on him.”

“I just don't need to see him in his perfect little domestic situation, that's all. Introduce to me to Liam over there.”

“That's my boy,” Patrick slapped him on the back.

Liam turned out to be a really nice guy. He was an architect who worked for city planning. They talked for quite awhile, but Gian didn't feel any spark between them. And then he saw Jeremy with his boyfriend. For some reason it made him feel like crap.

Jeremy came right over to him as soon as he saw him. He reached out his hand, which was rather awkward. Gian took it. “Hey.”

“Gian,” Jeremy said, “I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I didn't expect to see you either.”

There was another man beside him suddenly. “Gian, this is Ron Talbet, Ronnie, this is Gian. Do you remember the cop I told you about?”

Ron gave him the once over and then shook his hand, “Oh yes,” he said and then excused himself to talk to someone else.

Jeremy looked wonderful. Gian tried to avoid looking at him too much so he looked around the room. There was this huge silence between them.

“Busy?” Jeremy asked, meeting his gaze.

Gian nodded. “You?”

“There are always fires,” he replied.

“I guess so.”

“Still a cop?” he asked.

Gian raised an eyebrow “Would it make a difference if I wasn't?”

“It might,” Jeremy said very softly, meeting his eyes.

He didn't know what to say to that so he just cleared his throat. “Well, it was nice seeing you again ... and meeting ... ah ... Ron.”

Jeremy seemed to want to say something else, then changed his mind. “It was nice seeing you, too, Gian,” he replied and walked away.

Soon after, Gian said his goodbyes and left.

He walked alone on New Year's Eve while people around him walked arm in arm. He thought of Jeremy for a minute and it made him feel really sad, sadder than it should of have. He thought he'd dealt with that piece of history, but apparently he hadn't done it very well. Seeing him tonight, especially with his new lover, had been tough.

Instead of going home, he turned in the other direction toward the village and went into one of the gay bars. The only men in there on this night were the desperate and the lonely and it was a hard thing to admit, but he was one of them.

* * * *

They were back in the classroom now and Cory was relieved that the holidays were over. There had been one party after another and he didn't think he could take any more. Now it was back to routine. He would be dragged out of bed maybe a few nights a week instead of every night. At least, that's what he told himself.

The teacher talked about love today. What was love? What did it mean? What was the difference between romantic love and family love? She wanted them to write an essay for English on that subject.

Cory had often wondered about it. He never had much love from family and, as for romantic love, all he knew of that was what he saw in the movies. What would it be like if a handsome man fell in love with him, a young man with a heart stopping smile and a smoldering kiss? In spite of all the abuse he had suffered, he knew the difference between lust and passion. He knew that the stuff he'd experienced had nothing to do with love or desire.

He dreamt sometimes of sex that was free of pain, sex that was pleasurable and tender and passionate in the moments when it should be. And he wasn't opposed to kinky sex either, but it would be what he decided to participate in, some light bondage or even sex toys maybe, if they were used to excite rather than to brutalize. And then he too would have control. He imagined that one day he would be with some beautiful man, oh he would have to be incredibly sexy without any inhibitions. He would be big and strong and he would sometimes let him have the control. He would explore that beautiful taunt and muscular body and give him sexual pleasure, too, maybe tie his hands lightly behind his back and ... um ... a man that wanted only him, that trembled at his touch, that was so beautiful, his heart would almost stop whenever he'd look into his eyes.

The teacher suddenly taped him on the shoulder and said, “Cory, are you listening?”

“Yes,” he said, snapping back to attention. “Love, you want me to write about love.”

She smiled at him. “Yes.”

“No problem,” he replied.

Cory liked Ms. Anderson. She was a nice teacher. Sometimes when she was alone at her desk, he went to her and wanted so much to tell her what was happening at night when everyone slept. He was afraid that she wouldn't believe him or maybe she would hate him if he told her.

He was worried about Daniel. He was becoming more and more withdrawn. Cory did everything he could to try and protect him, but he found that he was pretty powerless. Daniel's age made him a target for pedophiles and a lot of the men that came there on the weekend were interested in Daniel because he was so young. What didn't help is that he looked even younger than his age. He wanted so much to tell someone and he'd hinted about it often, but he just knew no one would believe him.

One night when they strung Daniel up and were literally torturing him, Cory yelled at them to stop. Andy hit him so hard in the stomach with his club that he went flying across the room. His stomach hurt for a week after. His protests were for nothing. There was nothing he could do for him except hold him after, telling him that he needed to find other things to think about when it was happening. Andy had warned them that he'd kill them if they talked and Cory knew he'd do it.

Three times he had tried to run away and taken Daniel with him, but the facility was maximum security and all three times he'd been caught. Once it was Andy who caught him and he was taken downstairs and beaten on the buttocks until his skin had torn from the flesh. After that, he never tried to run again.

No, he knew that no one would come to save them. There was no white knight on a big horse that would come to chase the bad men away. That only happened in movies. There was nowhere to run and no one to tell. It was a battle of endurance and he was determined to survive and he would do anything he could to ensure that little Danny survived with him.

He vowed that once he was out of there, he'd go directly to the nearest police station and make them listen.

* * * *

Except for the news Gian had received yesterday, New Year's Day had been a complete waste of time. As he sat in the conference room waiting to talk to the cops who would be a part of his new operation, his mind went back to yesterday.

“So,” the guy had smiled at him seductively from where he lay on the bed, “you're some sort of hero cop, eh?”

Gian pulled on his pants and ran his hand through his hair. He didn't feel much like a hero this morning. It was after eleven and he had to shower and change so that he could get to work.

“I'm no hero,” Gian told him gruffly.

“You sure look like one and you sure as hell fuck like one,” the guy reached for him. “You fuck like a real champion.”

“I got to go.”

Who this guy was, he couldn't remember. He couldn't even recall his name and, in the morning light, he wouldn't have been his first choice as a bed partner either.

He hated these times, waking up with a strange guy. It was so damn uncomfortable. He kept telling himself that this was the last time he was going to do that, but it never was.

He had gone into that bar last night and drank way too much. How he had gotten back here with this guy, he didn't know. He was relieved to see a couple of used condoms on the floor, so at least he hadn't been that stupid.

“How come you work on New Year's Day, gorgeous?” The voice asked him as Gian started to put on his boots and look around for his shirt.

“Ah, criminals don't celebrate, I guess,” he muttered.

The guy pulled his shirt from underneath the tangled mess of blankets and dangled it in the air.

“Come and get it,” he ran his eyes gaze over him.

Gian walked over to the bed and reached out for it. The guy pulled it further away. Gian met his eyes. “Look, I got to go to work. So stop fucking around.” He reached over and yanked it out of the guy's grasp. Gian put on his shirt and his coat.

“Call me sometime?” the guy called out as Gian headed for the door.

“I wouldn't count on it,” Gian muttered under his breath.

When he got home, he noticed the answering machine was flashing. He turned it on and stripped off his clothes.

“Gian, its Patrick, how's next Saturday, I've invited Liam.”

Gian sighed and pushed the button. “Gian,” it was Kayla. “Are you coming over tonight or what? Call me.”

He pushed it again. “Davinci, its Commissioner Howard. I'd like to talk to you about the Beaconsfield case. Come up to my office when you get in.”

Gian rushed to take a shower and pulled on clean underwear, jeans and a black sweatshirt. He assembled his gun, threw his badge around his neck and headed downtown.

* * * *

Now he sat drinking stale coffee and waiting for people. He had scribbled a whole lot of stuff down on a pad, none of which would have been decipherable to anyone else but him.

Clint opened the door now, along with the Commissioner who was a tall gaunt man in his fifties with thick glasses. Bobby Denardo and Sandra Aston, two detectives Gian usually enjoyed working with, walked in behind them.

Denardo gave Gian a high five and Sandra blew him a kiss.

The commissioner cleared his throat. “We think we have enough information to begin an investigation, but the news isn't in yet on what's going to happen to Taylor.”

“I did promise that—” Gian leaned forward.

“You don't promise anything,” he eyed him. “That's the D.A.'s call, not yours.”

Gian sat back in his seat and sighed. “We wouldn't be at this point without Taylor's statement.” He threw down his pen.

Clint glanced at him. “We'll work something out. All right, what we need to do is get someone inside to take Taylor's place. The Director—”

Gian looked hesitant, interrupting, “I'd prefer to go in without anyone on the inside knowing about it.”

The commissioner shook his head. “I know the director, he's a good man. He won't blow your cover and he's as concerned about this as we are.”

“So he knows already?” Gian sat up in his seat.

“Yes,” Clint interjected. “The department felt that informing Mr. Mason was the right thing to do.”

“I don't think department resources should be wasted on this for a long time,” Howard was now saying.

God, how he hated bureaucrats.

“If we send you in there, Gian, you should be able to get in and out with the information you need within a month's time, “Howard told him, matter of fact.

“How ‘bout a day?” Gian replied with a sneer.

Clint shot him a be careful look.

Howard ignored his remark. He got up. “Send him in, but I want a report once a week on the situation. This is a delicate one and is to be played by the book. Davinci,” he pierced him with his eyes, “is that clear?”

But it was Clint who replied. “Yes sir, strictly by the book.”

Howard left the room.

Gian rolled his eyes. “He hates me, that man.”

Denardo laughed. “Don't worry. He just doesn't get your particular kind of charm.”

“He is blind to your sex appeal,” Sandra added, pulling back her long red hair and twisting an elastic band around it.

Clint cleared his throat. “All right, all right, enough of that. Denardo, I want you to work on getting the records set up that show Gian belongs to the Guard's Union. Sandra, get working on a resume and make sure the sources can be confirmed in case they are checked.”

Sandra and Bobby stood. They were ready to get to work.

“We'll get right on it, Cap,” Sandra said.

“I want it by the end of the day. All right,” Clint continued after the other two left, “I've spoken to Director Mason, Gian. He's already expecting you to come in. There's no reason for you to interview, but the records will be in the files in case someone wants to check you out.”

“When do I go in?”

“Tomorrow. You can keep the hair, but you have to tie it back. They'll issue you a uniform there at the facility. Have you thought about how you will proceed?”

“I obviously won't be considered an insider right away. I thought I'd try to get some information from the boys involved first. I'll work afternoons during the week and nights on the weekend, that way I can get to know the boys without the other three around.”

“Sounds like a smart plan. This is a very delicate situation, Gian. You have to be careful.”

“I realize that.”

“I have a name for you. You can keep the first name, I changed the last. It's Gian Franca. Is that all right?”

“Sounds fine to me.”

“Remember, you have to call me once a week so I can tell Howard something.”

“Look I got some work to do at my desk. I better finish up my reports before I get into this.”

Clint shook his head. “I'm still waiting for last weeks.”

Gian laughed. “No worries. I'm going right now. Heard from Kayla?”

“Not since she went back to California. New semester. She's probably busy.”

“She's going to make one hell of a civil rights lawyer.”

Clint sighed. “You, too? Ganging up on me, you and your sister.”

He grinned and left the room as he heard Clint yell, “There's no money in civil rights law.”

* * * *

Welcome to Beaconsfield. The sign was carved into the lawn, beautifully landscaped. Except for the gates and electronic cameras, Beaconsfield looked like a private school. An arrow in the parking lot indicated which side the boys division was on. He parked his police issued green Toyota Corolla in a lot marked visitors and walked across the parking lot to the front entrance. There was another sign which read, Director. He rang the buzzer and was admitted. A woman at a desk greeted him.

“Hello, you must be the new guard, Gian Franca. My name is Nellie Carmelita. Mr. Mason will be right with you. Welcome to Beaconsfield.”

“Thank you,” he said, looking around. The long tiled hallways were so shiny you could see your face in them and the place was dead quiet except for the loud ticking of an industrial clock on the wall.

Mr. Mason was a short, blond haired man in his forties. He came out and shook Gian's hand. “Please,” he said, “come into my office.” He had shifty eyes and he never quite looked directly at him.

Gian followed him into a midsized office with a huge desk. There were pictures of children on the wall, his children Gian presumed.

“I want you to know from the onset that I had no idea anything improper was happening here at Beaconsfield. I would like you to believe me when I say that your department has my complete cooperation in this matter. Anything you want, you shall have at your disposal.”

“I will work afternoons during the week and nights on the weekend for the time being. This may change. Can you arrange that?”

“It will take some effort, but, yes, I can arrange it. Consider it done.”

“I need your guarantee that no one else will know my real identity.”

“Absolutely.”

“All right, I'm ready to start.”

“I will call Ron Collins. He is the head guard in the day. He's very experienced and will show you everything you need to know. He is aware someone new is starting today and that you have come highly recommended. We received the paper work this morning by courier so if anyone chooses to look up your file, it's in order. I will enter it into the computer this afternoon.”

“How many boys here?”

“In this unit, close to fifty. They range in age from thirteen to eighteen. And then there's Cory. He's going to be nineteen soon. He's more of a trustee than an actual resident. As soon as we can find a suitable transition house, he'll be transferred.”

“I see.”

“We have accredited teachers on the premises and the boys get a good education here.”

“I will need to see their files later on this evening. Right now, I'd like to take a look at your employment records.”

“Certainly,” he said, rushing over to his desk. “I will bring those up for you right now. May I ask which employees are under suspicion?”

“No.”

“I assure you, all my staff have been screened for—”

“Screening processes only work if the subject has a record.”

“Yes, I know—but wouldn't they—”

“Let the police handle this.”

“Of course. I will leave you alone so you may review the files in peace.” He paused, “I can't believe that anything out of the ordinary is happening here. I have good employees. I've had no problems with anyone and if something of this nature is going on here, why didn't someone tell me? Why didn't the boys—”

“Fear,” Gian said. He went to sit in front of the computer as Mason punched at the keyboard. “There you go. I'll come back at noon with Collins.”

“All right,” Gian said absently and began to scan the files.

Mason left the office, shutting the door behind him. You didn't have to be a detective to see that Mason was running scared. If he did in fact find what he had come here for, there would be a full-scale inquiry into the running of this institution. It would be Mason in the hot seat. He could very well lose his job or worse.

Gian reviewed the files of the employees. He was especially interested in Decoteau, Falcon and Anderson. Falcon had been responsible for hiring the other two. They were all bonded and had previously worked as security guards. These were the names that had been specifically mentioned by Taylor.

He took a look cursory look at the other employment files. Most of the guards had been there awhile working days because they had seniority.

There were seven teachers who taught in the boys sector. All their records seemed in order with nothing unusual there. There was a psychologist on staff and six counsellors who worked very closely with the residents. All these people worked in the daytime. Aside from that, there was a maintenance crew of three men, two women and five people who worked full time in the kitchen, as well as three part time laundry staff. Finally, at the top of the food chain were Mason and his secretary.

Gian called Sandra on his cell phone a few minutes before lunch. “Hi, it's me,” he said.

“Me who?” she teased.

“Cute. Look, I'm going to send you the Beaconsfield employment records in a zip file in a few minutes on the mainframe computer. Can you do a thorough check on the three primary suspects for me?”

“The one's Taylor mentioned in his statement?”

“Those are the ones.”

“How's it going?”

“I haven't done anything yet. I'm going to be orientated today by the supervisor on this shift. I won't call again until I have something to say. Check those out and, if there is anything pressing, leave a message on my machine at home and I'll get back to you.”

“I love the strong, silent types,” she replied. “Bye, handsome.”

“So long,” he laughed and hung up.

Ronald Collins was a nice man with a pleasant smile. He walked with a slight limp, an injury he'd received when he was in the military. Gian followed him to a supply room. Collins studied him a minute. “You're not that big around the middle, but you've got broad shoulders and big arms. What are you, thirty-four waist?”

“Right on,” Gian smiled.

“And you're a tall one, aren't ya?” He looked him up and down. “How tall are you anyway?”

“Six three,” Gian replied.

Ronald, who stood about five ten, whistled. “God, I'd love to be that tall. And all muscle. Ladies must love you.”

Gian smiled faintly.

“Okay, these should be long enough,” he handed him a pair of brown pants. “Sixteen or seventeen collar?”

“Right again.”

He slapped his thigh. “Hot damn, I'm never wrong. You take a medium shirt if the sleeves and shoulders are roomy. I think I'm going to give you a large. These are not the biggest of shirts.” He handed him a matching dark brown shirt with gold buttons and Beaconsfield Security printed on the sleeve.

“Good idea,” Gian took the shirt, glad there were no fashion police around. They were uglier than the police garb he wore back when he was in uniform.

“And shoes, nine or ten?”

“Ten. Rather have them big.”

Ronald slapped him on the back as he handed Gian a pair of brown-laced shoes. “There you go, son. We have hats, but no one wears them. They are ugly mothers. You'll have to tie that hair back for me, I don't mind, but Mr. Mason will have a coronary.”

Gian grinned. “I'll tie it back.”

“Good, get yourself outfitted and I'll get you some equipment. You will need a walkie, a club and a regulation flashlight on the nightshift. We only use the club if we have to and then I just give a tap at the knees, knocks ‘em down, don't hurt ‘em none.” He shook his head and then grinned at him. “Most the time, I don't have any problems with these boys here. They aren't bad boys really.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Call me Ron or Ronnie, everyone does. I'll meet you down the hall. I got to put some fresh batteries in the radios.” He stopped. “You and me, we're going to get on just fine. The other two on this shift are good boys, too. I'll introduce you round once I show you the grounds and explain your duties.” He left now, closing the door behind him.

Gian pulled on the pants, straight cut and none too big. The shirt fit great around the torso, but it stretched taunt across his shoulders and he gave up trying to do it up around the neck. He combed his hair and tied it back at the nape. He looked at himself in the mirror and decided that the uniform was rather tight, but what choice did he have?

When he met Ron down the hallway, Ron told him he looked great. So much for taste, he thought. Anyway, he took the radio and fastened it to his belt along with the club. They were so heavy compared to what they issued on the police force now.

Ron made him sign for some keys and showed him the supply room.

There was a desk in there with a clipboard where they had to keep track of their rounds and any problems during the shifts so that the next guy would be informed.

Ron took his job very seriously and Gian knew he was proud of it. He thought Ronald was rather sweet. He was introduced to two other guards who were friendly and welcoming and then Ronald told him that he would take him on his rounds and show him what his duties were.

Gian adjusted the radio on his hip and followed Ron Collins down the corridor.

* * * *

Ace was in a good mood today. He had just received a letter from his father with fifty dollars in it. He was trying to encourage Cory to play cards with him in the recreation room just before lunch.

“No way, are you nuts?” Cory replied with a hoot of laughter. “Only crazy people play blackjack with you. Besides I have no money.”

“Damn,” he said, walking over to the window. “No one will play with me.”

Cory made a face and opened up a magazine. He was about to say something when Ace said, “Well, time for lunch. I hope there's something good to eat tonight.”

“Spaghetti,” Cory said, standing up. “I like the way the new cook makes it.”

“Well, let's go get it then, baby,” he said, throwing an arm around him.

They laughed, scampering down the hall to the cafeteria.

After getting their plates, they sat with some other boys. Daniel came in shortly after and sat beside Cory.

Cory grinned at him. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, Cory,” he said. He didn't smile back. In fact, he didn't smile at all lately.

Suddenly Ace nudged him. “Hey, take a look at that over there in the line,” he said. “Maybe I've died and gone to heaven.”

There were a lot of boys looking suddenly.

But there were two teachers standing in the way of his view and Cory couldn't see a thing. “What? I don't see anything.”

“Wait, he'll be coming this way with his plate soon. Ooh baby, maybe it's my birthday.”

Cory made a noise of irritation. “Eat your...” he began taking a bite of his spaghetti, but then paused in mid bite and looked up.

There was a man walking down the aisle between the tables. He was tall and well built with black hair tied back at the neck.

The boys all turned to look at him at the same time. There was some heavy duty whispering which was drowned out by the general noise in the cafeteria and then some wolf whistles.

“That shirt is pretty tight,” Cory said.

“Umm ... looks like he could burst right out of it, the pants, too.”

“Oh I could bust him right out of it anytime.” Cory smiled. “Haven't seen a guy who looked that good ... well ... can't remember when.”

“Must be Mark Taylor's replacement,” Ace said.

Frank leaned over now and looked at Cory. “Christ, that's a hard on, eh Cory?”

“Say that again,” Cory agreed, turning to look over at the table where Gian sat with Ronald Collins.

Frank was rough trade all the way and not afraid to speak his mind. He sometimes said things that made even Cory blush.

“Leave him to Cory and me,” Frank told Ace. “We know how to treat a man like that, don't we, Cory?”

Cory turned his eyes back to him. “Yeah, and that's one hell of a man.”

“I could tie him up and rape him until he begged for more,” Frank jeered.

Ace howled with laughter. “Fuck you, Frank. Did you see the muscles on that guy? And get a load of the size of him, man, he'd blow you over with his little finger.”

Cory couldn't argue with that. “He's right, but hey ... can't blame us boys for dreaming.”

They all laughed.

Suddenly Mr. Mason got to his feet and called for attention. “Listen up boys, we have a new addition to the staff.” He pointed to Gian who nodded and then went back to his lunch. “Gian Franca is one of our new security men. I trust you will treat him with the same respect as the others.”

Someone yelled out. “I have no problem respecting that ... I'll worship at his feet if he wants.”

Mr. Mason made a face as all the boys erupted into laughter. Eventually the cafeteria quieted and they went back to eating.

“He's Italian,” Cory mentioned.

“Are they good lovers?” Daniel said for the first time.

Cory looked at him. “Daniel, you're too young to—”

“I don't think I'd mind him so much. He's really handsome.”

Cory smiled and patted his head. He got up and returned his tray to the front. The day passed quickly. He spent the afternoon in class, ate supper and then sat to do homework. After the homework was done, they were permitted to spend an hour and a half of free time in the recreation room or watching television. They could go out into the yard if they wanted, but it was too cold.

Cory went to his room and started to work on that essay about love. Daniel had his books in front of him, but didn't seem to be doing anything. He stared off into the distance.

* * * *

Gian walked down the hallway and looked into each room. There were two boys to a room. Most of them said hello. He said, “Hi,” and kept going.

When he came to the last room at the end of the hall, he knocked and walked in.

He knew right away that the older one was Cory. He recognized him suddenly from his picture in the file, nineteen and waiting for a suitable transition house. Taylor had mentioned Cory, a former prostitute and the consistent target of abuse by the guards. He'd been there for a few years. He was Andy Falcon's favourite and, just by looking at him, he knew why. He was a good-looking guy with dark curly hair and the type of eyes that always seemed flirtatious. He was slim and rather graceful looking and for some reason right now, his face was red as a beat. He stood when he saw Gian.

“Hi,” Gian said.

“Hi,” Cory replied.

“Everything all right in here?”

Daniel looked at him now. “You're handsome,” he said.

Cory gave him a look of shock. “Daniel! That's forward.”

Gian smiled at him. “Why thank you and you are quite handsome yourself,” he told him as Daniel came over to stand in front of him. Gian placed a hand on his head. He couldn't have been more than thirteen years old.

“You're really tall, too.”

“Daniel,” Cory snapped. “What's got into you? Sorry,” he looked at Gian.

“Not a problem,” Gian replied. “You're very red in the face, Cory. Do you have a fever?” He walked over and placed a hand on his forehead.

“No. No. I'm fine,” he stuttered.

Gian backed away. “How do you find it in here?”

“It's ah ... all right.”

“You know if you need anything or...” he paused, “you need to talk to anyone about anything, you can talk to me.”

Daniel was still standing there looking up at him, his eyes wide.

Cory blinked. “About what?”

Gian shrugged. “Anything you like,” he replied, then ruffled Daniel's hair and walked out.

* * * *

“Daniel,” Cory got off the bed and took his arm, “what's gotten into you? You'd swear you never saw a man before. You can't just tell strange men they're handsome.”

“But he is handsome,” Daniel said. “And if he likes me, maybe he'll protect me from the others and they won't hurt me anymore.”

Cory pulled Daniel into his arms and crushed him against him. “Oh, Danny, poor little Danny,” he whispered. “I wish I could make it all go away.”

* * * *

Gian quickly checked his messages when he got home and then turned his answering machine off. He sat in front of the television set and closed his eyes. He would work three more day shifts and then switch to nights where he would finally meet those three guards.

Today had gone pretty well, although his encounter with Daniel had been tough. The kid showed definite signs of being a sexually abused child and he was so young.

Some sexually abused children stood out in that they didn't know how to deal with sexuality appropriately. The only way they could relate to adults was on a sexual level.

Cory was an adult, but Gian could tell that he was terrified. When he had suggested that he could talk to him, he looked as if he might bolt and run.

He had focused on a couple of the other boys in that unit Mark had mentioned in his statement. There was Frank who was around sixteen years old who said, “Stay awhile and I'll show you a good time,” when he'd walked in the room. And there was Ace, not quite as bold as Frank, but yet he'd looked at him as if he might devour him whole. Tony was around seventeen and very soft spoken. He got out of bed when he came in and paraded himself totally naked in front of him. When Gian told him to put some clothes on, he acted like he didn't even realize he was naked.

He wondered if these boys acted out like that to the other guards. Maybe they did, but the guards weren't trained to see the signs. Some of the counsellors must realize it.

The next day, he was back at Beaconsfield, doing his rounds after lunch right before first period when he smelt smoke. The boys weren't allowed to smoke in the bathrooms. They could only smoke outside in the designated area.

As he neared the door, he could hear talking. He stood stock-still and listened.

“What is that guy's name anyway?” one voice asked softly.

“That weird old man who burned Daniel with a cigar?” Another asked.

“Yeah.”

“I don't know, but I sure hope he doesn't come Friday night. He tied me to the bed once for hours.”

“Pervert. Old bastard,” the other voice replied. His voice was very light and girlish. It sounded like Tony.

“I wouldn't mind that new guard tying me to a bed,” was the next announcement. That was Cory's voice or at least someone who sounded a hell of a lot like him. It was deeper, more mature.

“Tell me about it,” the other murmured. “He's so sweet and what a smile. He's a hunk and a half. He came to my room for bed check the other night and I walked out in front of him completely naked.”

“No,” Cory laughed. “Are you kidding? What in hell did you do that for? What did he do?”

“He said in that deep masculine voice of his put some clothes on, please I almost came right there. He could give me an orgasm just talking to me.”

They were laughing. Gian decided that before he overheard any more of this, he should interrupt.

“Wonder what it would be like to make love to that,” Cory sighed.

“Wonder what it would be like to make love to what?” He walked in and pushed open the stall with his boot.

They both scrambled off the toilet where they were perched. Cory lifted the lid and threw the cigarette in.

“Hi,” Cory waved at him, coughing a bit. He gave him a lopsided grin.

Tony winked at him. “Hi there, sexy.”

“Wonder what it would be like to make love to whom, Cory?” Gian asked him, raising an eyebrow. He knew he was embarrassing him, but he couldn't resist. It was punishment for breaking the rules.

“Ah ... just how much of that conversation did you hear, sailor?” Tony gave him the softest smile.

“Enough,” he said. “Anyone ever tell you smoking isn't good for you?”

Cory was red again.

There was dead silence. “Okay, out of here,” Gian motioned, “You know you're not supposed to smoke in the bathrooms.”

“We needed privacy,” Cory said as he came out of the stall, meeting his gaze.

“For what?” Gian demanded as they all walked out of the bathroom.

“To discuss you,” Tony brushed up against him.

Gian narrowed his eyes. “Bring along a magazine, I'm sure it would make for much more interesting bathroom entertainment.”

With that he walked off. Cory and Tony burst into laughter. “He's not going to punish us?” Tony said to Cory, surprised.

“No, cause we'd like it too much,” Cory replied, running a tongue over his lips which made Tony laugh all the more.

“Did you see those big brown eyes?”

“I saw, I saw,” Tony moaned as they went off to class together.

Later that afternoon, Gian felt someone tap him on the arm. He turned around to see Daniel standing there.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, Daniel. What's up?”

“Can you come with me to my room?”

“Why?”

“Because there is something I need in the closet and I can't reach.”

“All right,” Gian looked at him curiously and followed him down the hall.

When they arrived in the room, Daniel said, “Can I do something for you?”

Gian narrowed his eyes. “Do something for me?”

“Yes, would you like to put it in me, or maybe I could smoke your pole.”

He said these like he was asking him if he wanted to play ball or go outside for a walk. Gian swallowed. “Daniel, you're a child, a little boy. I'm a grown man. Grown men don't do those things with children unless they are very sick men.”

“But it would be all right if you did it. You would be nice to me.”

“I can be nice to you without doing those things. Who are you afraid of, Daniel? Is there someone you want me to protect you from?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it as Cory came in.

Cory looked from one to another, then grabbed Daniel and pulled him away. “What are you doing in here alone with Daniel?”

“Nothing,” he said. “We were talking.”

“Daniel,” Cory said sharply, “leave us now.”

The little boy walked quickly out of the room.

Cory glared at Gian. “You wanted to talk,” Cory eyed him, “Let's talk.” He walked over, closed the door and leaned on it. “You're a big boy and I'm a big boy. I'm all grown up, even legal. Daniel is just a baby.” Cory said. “If you need something, take it from me ... not a little boy ... if you're man enough.”

Gian took a step backward as Cory came closer. “You think I wanted to ... molest Daniel? Why would you think that?”

“I know he's young, but I have the experience,” Cory said, placing his hands on his chest.

Gian took Cory's hands off his chest and went to open the door. “I'm going to ask you this one last time ... why did you think I was trying to molest Daniel? Is someone here molesting him?”

Cory backed away. “No. I just thought that...”

Gian shook his head. “I assure you Cory, I am not a child molester. You and Daniel have nothing to fear from me.”

Cory met his gaze. “I just want you to know that I will protect Daniel at all costs and if you're looking for ... you know that kind of thing, then take me. That's all I've got to say.”

“Message received,” Gian said, opened the door and walked out.

* * * *

The night, Cory lay in bed listening to Daniel chatter on about some television show. Finally, he asked him. “Danny, what was that guard doing in here today, you know, the good looking one?”

“I asked him to come and help me get something.”

“What?”

“I asked him if he wanted to put it in me or—”

“Daniel! What would you do that for?” Cory asked him severely, sitting up. “With all the other stuff ... all the times I try and stop it, you go and invite—”

“I want to do it with him, and if I do, no one else will dare. He has kind eyes and he's really big and he wouldn't let anyone take me away. If I really pleased him, he'd protect me from the other ones.”

Cory sighed. He had tried to protect Danny, but sometimes he couldn't. “What did he say when you asked him that?”

“He said no. He said I was a little boy and little boys and men didn't do those things together unless the big men were sick persons.”

Cory let that sink in. “He wasn't going to molest you then?”

“No. He asked me if someone was doing that and he told me that he would stop them.”

“He did.”

“Yes.”

“You didn't tell, did you ... the details because you know what would happen if anyone knew. No one would really do anything for a long time and we'd get beaten up bad.”

“No, honest, Cory, I didn't tell him anything,” Danny gulped, tears running down his face, “but I wanted to.”

“You must never tell because he could get fired or leave here and we'd be alone. Andy would kill us if he found out. I'll protect you.”

“But you can't, Cory, because you too are getting hurt.”

It was quiet and Cory took him into his bed and pulled him close. Tears collected in his eyes. “Shush,” he swallowed.

* * * *

Friday came and Gian had a hard time sleeping in the day. Tonight he would finally meet those bastards and he was more determined than ever to nail them. He just had to play it cool for now.

He was tired when he arrived at seven o'clock for the twelve-hour shift.

The boys were all in the recreation room, watching a movie.

He met Tim Anderson first. He was wearing a big hoop earring. He shook his hand and Gian felt like washing it after.

Gian was surprised when he slid up beside him in the recreation room and said, “You're a cutie. I heard you were a looker, all that beautiful hair. How long you been growing it?”

Gian pretended to be friendly. “Just haven't cut it in awhile.”

Tim, who was thinning on top, patted his own head and said, “Inherited from my dad. I'm only twenty-eight. Good thing I'm hairy down where it counts, eh?” he laughed, slapping Gian's arm.

“Right,” Gian murmured dryly.

“Hey, you got a hell of a bicep there. You work out?”

“When I have time.”

“Nice. Take off your shirt for me later, I'd like to see the rest.”

Gian ignored that.

“Oh, here's Andy,” he said. “Andy, come meet the new guy.”

Gian gave Andy a contained smile. He was big and fat and damn repulsive. He smelt like stale cigarettes, French fries and sweat.

“Well, well,” he said. “You're on my watch, eh? Well, you be doing the bed checks tonight. Be sure and tuck in the little ones now.”

Gian met his eyes and nodded.

“Pug is somewhere around here, ain't he?” Andy Falcon asked Anderson who nudged Gian's arm.

“He depends on me for everything. I'll go and find him, boss.”

“Go then. Gian, is it?” Andy glanced at him.

“That's right.”

“We need to get to know each other. So, how come you're switching shifts?”

Gian shrugged. “Used to nights, I guess. Thought I'd try them both out. I don't mind.”

“Good. Look, we guys have a little party here on the weekends because after the boys are sleeping, we get bored. You could get yourself invited if you play your cards right.” He looked him up and down. “Which door you bang on, handsome?”

“Pardon me?” Gian replied, playing dumb.

“You like it in the back or the front? What team you pitch for, darling?” He insisted. “Sure as hell can't tell by looking at you. Ah, just a minute,” he said, looking over at the boys.

Before Gian could answer, he was waddling down the aisle telling one the boys to stop throwing stuff. “I'll get out my club,” he threatened and the boys settled down immediately.

“You got to be tough,” he told Gian when he came back. “Show them who the boss is ‘cause they'll run the place otherwise.” Again, he ran his gaze over him. “You got quite a package down there.”

What a sleaze, Gian thought. “Thanks.” He made an attempt at a smile.

“It's going to be a quiet party tonight. How old are you, honey?”

He shuddered inwardly at honey. “Twenty three,” he replied.

“Do you like to have a good time?”

“Sure, I like to have a good time.”

“Well, maybe we might just invite you one of these times.”

He walked off and Gian finally felt like he could breathe again.

The time came for the boys to go to bed. Gian went to do bed check.

When he came to Cory's and Daniel's room, he could tell that they were very tense. “You guys all right?” he asked, sticking his head in the door.

Danny shook his head.

“We're fine,” Cory said.

All the lights went out except the emergency ones in the hallway.

He did the rounds often, three floors, upstairs then down. He waited. Then about midnight he saw Pug wandering the halls. He stopped and stayed in the shadows, waiting to see where he was going. Pug went into Frank's room and took him out. He had his hand on his shoulder as he led him down to the end of the hallway.

“Who else is coming tonight?” Frank asked.

“I'm going to get Daniel and Cory.”

Gian sucked in some breath. He took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. Quietly he crept into the room where Daniel slept and lifted him out of the bed. He carried him down three flights to the utility room. There was a cot in there. He laid him on the cot.

Daniel opened his eyes and yawned. “What's going on?”

“Don't worry,” he whispered. “Stay here. I'm going to lock the door. Only I have the key. Go back to sleep.” He covered him with a blanket and left, locking him in. Then he high tailed it back up to the third floor. Pug was there. He had Cory up against the wall.

“Where is he? Where in the hell is Daniel, you little prick!” He pulled down Cory's pajama bottoms and grabbed his penis hard.

Cory gasped.

Gian came down the hall. “Pug!” he said. “What in fuck are you doing?”

“Daniel has disappeared and this little bastard has hidden him somewhere again.”

“I saw Daniel running outside,” Gian said. “That's what I came to tell you.”

Pug paused. “Hey, come here,” he said softly in a voice that made Gian quite ill.

“You want some of this action? I'd love to watch you do it to him.”

Cory looked at him with tear-filled eyes, scrambling to pull up his pants. Gian looked at Pug. “We need to find Daniel?”

“I'll look for the little prick. Here,” he handed Gian a pair of handcuffs, “it's better when he's tied down.”

Gian swallowed. “Better go before he gets away.”

Pug ran down the hall.

Gian took Cory's arm and led back into the room, the handcuffs dangling in his hands. He laid him down on the bed and put the blanket over him. “Did he hurt you?”

Cory nodded. “No, I'm all right.”

“Go to sleep. No one will bother you tonight.”

* * * *

Cory sat up in bed as he watched him walk to the door. “Aren't you going to...”

But he was gone.

Cory eventually fell asleep, biting the blanket to quell the pain in his groin. When he woke up, Daniel was asleep in bed beside him. He looked more peaceful than he had ever seen him.

Saturday was lazy day, a time to complete homework or even go outside. Some of the boys had visitors, but Cory never got any. It was just his mother anyway and she was often too high to care about visiting him. She'd basically told him that now that he was an adult, she wasn't responsible for him anymore. He guessed that meant she didn't have to visit him anymore either. He wanted to leave this hellhole, to be free of the abuse he'd suffered here, but he didn't know how he could leave Daniel. What if the authorities didn't believe him when he got out and Daniel was left here all alone?

Cory kept asking Daniel what had happened to him the night before, but he couldn't remember. He was fearful about tonight however because Andy was going to be angry that they'd messed up their party. Oh well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

He kept thinking about that new guard and how he had led him to bed, laid him down, covered him up and walked away. He didn't even touch him when they were alone.

“Maybe he's impotent,” Frank said at suppertime when Cory told him about it in a hushed voice.

“He is not!” Daniel protested hotly. “He's perfect and he's not whatever it is you say ... im ... pot.... or whatever,” he stuttered.

“You don't even know what it means!” Frank accused, laughing.

“Yes I do and he's not that!” Daniel stood and raised his fists.

Cory's eyes widened. “Danny, what's going on with you?”

“Take it back!” he said to Frank, ignoring Cory.

When Frank cried, “Impotent, impotent,” Daniel threw a punch at him and Frank ducked.

One of the guards came over and demanded to know what was going on as Cory took Daniel's arm. “Nothing,” Cory said. “They're just fooling around.”

“Knock it off,” he said and walked off.

“Good thing that was Cartwright,” Cory told Daniel. The nightshift hadn't come on yet.

“I don't care,” Daniel said, pouting as Frank walked off. “He doesn't have to say those things about Gian.”

“Why are you so protective of him for?”

“I like him, that's all.”

When the nightshift came on, Cory was playing cards with Ace for pennies and losing as usual.

Gian walked into the recreation room at eight o'clock. He looked around and then walked back out.

“There's my sweetie,” Ace cooed.

“How come he's your sweetie?” Cory teased.

“He just is.”

“Bull. Maybe he's mine.”

“Or mine,” Tony piped in over Ace's shoulder.

“He wouldn't be interested in you,” Ace scoffed. “You're too much of a sissy.”

“Fuck off,” Tony threw at him and walked away.

Daniel was sitting in the corner with his head back on the sofa. His eyes were closed. He had been sulking since suppertime and Cory knew why. Saturday nights were the worst for Daniel because that man with the cigar came and he was one sick bastard. He was a high paying client and Andy wouldn't let Daniel out of his sight until that creep arrived.

Cory threw down his cards. “I give up, take all my pennies, I can't beat you,” he said. “I even suspect you cheat.”

“Do not,” Ace blubbered. “Come on, who's next? Come on Frank, Tony?”

They were into a show on television and ignoring him.

Cory went over to sit with Daniel. “What cha doing? Sleeping?”

“No, but I'm not going tonight, Cory.”

Just then Andy came barrelling in. “Daniel, I want to talk to you!” He bellowed.

Daniel was trembling.

Cory stood. “Andy, he's sick. He's not feeling well.”

Andy swept Cory out of the way with his hand, causing him to stumble and fall on his knees. He grabbed Daniel by his shirt. “Get up here, you little turd. Where in the hell were you last night? We looked all over for you! Is that what you think we have to waste our time on?”

“I'm sick, Andy, I'm sick,” he started to cry. Andy began dragging him toward the door.

Cory screamed at him, “Leave him alone. Leave him alone!”

The boys in the room were frozen to the spot with fear as Daniel yelled, “I'm sick, Andy, I'm sick.”

Cory jumped on Andy's back and he threw him off.

Just then Gian came through the door. He looked at Andy and then at Daniel who was dangling at the end of Andy's fist by his collar. Cory was getting up off the floor.

His first instinct was to grab Daniel away from Andy and then beat the crap out of him, but of course he wouldn't get anywhere doing that. He had to save Daniel from Andy, but he couldn't make an enemy of him yet.

“Oh Andy, look, Daniel is really sick. Look at his face. You have the right idea isolating him from the other boys. It could be contagious.”

Andy didn't know what to say.

“Come to me, Daniel. I'll look after you,” Gian demanded, meeting the boy's eyes. “Daniel,” he snapped, “come over here now.”

Andy loosened his hold for a second and Daniel struggled free, running into Gian's legs and clinging to his waist.

Gian picked him up and took him out of the room, leaving Andy standing there.

Andy turned around. “Go back doing what you were doing,” he said to the other boys. “There's nothing to see here.”

Cory sat on the sofa, breathless. He had been so frightened. He wasn't sure what had just happened.

Later that night as he lay in bed, he heard the familiar footsteps. Daniel had not come back, so he assumed he was in the sickbay. He was relieved.

Pug came to get him. He pulled him out of bed and pushed him along the hall, down the stairs and then down the other long hallway. Cory hated this hallway. The cement was cold on his bare feet and he never knew who he was going to meet at the end of it.

When he walked in, the man with the cigar was there. He was bitching about his little Daniel not being available.

“Won't Cory do?” Andy said, trying to appeal to him by walking over and pulling down Cory's pajama bottoms.

“Turn around and bend over,” the man barked, rising and coming over to him. I'm going to see how long it takes you to bleed, boy.”

Hot tears fell on Cory's cheeks.

* * * *

Everyone froze when Gian walked in with Tim. Gian quickly summed up the scene, trying to figure out how he could spare Cory without making it too obvious. “Tim,” Gian said, looking at him, “I am disappointed.”

“How come?”

“Well, I come in and find this guy here. I'm not interested in watching.”

All the while Gian felt the old guy looking at him. He knew this guy was paying big bucks and they'd let this pervert do whatever he wanted. Gian winked at the guy with the unlit cigar between his teeth. “You like them young, eh? This guy you got there is too old. He's an adult man.”

“You have a good eye,” he said. “The younger they are, the better I like them.” He paused. “But a man like you...” he announced, “you could dominate me. You could make me your slave. How about taking off that uniform and showing me if you got anything to offer?”

Gian stifled an urge to retch. “Bet I could fuck you so hard your ass would explode,” Gian told him, knowing exactly what this guy wanted. He liked to terrorize kids, but when there was a man in the equation, he enjoyed being dominated.

The Cigar man smiled. “You'd have to gag me and tie me down. You'd have to rape me and I'd fight you.” His eyes were glossing over.

“All right you demented little piece of shit, but not in a crowd,” Gian told him. That just came out.

Luckily, the cigar man loved the verbal abuse. “In the back room then?”

“That's fine. Let's go.”

“But what if I don't like it?”

“I'm in charge, not you. You'll like it if I tell you to,” Gian remarked. He took off his club. “I didn't become a security guard for nothing,” he slapped the club in his hand.

“Hey,” Tim said. “I want to watch.”

“No,” Gian replied. “I'm not interested in an audience and take Cory upstairs, too, or it's a no go.”

“I've been so very, very bad,” the man moaned. “Please master.” He got on his knees.

Andy looked at Tim. “Privacy. The client has needs and Gian here has been nice enough to fulfil them.”

“Crawl into that room, you lowlife,” Gian demanded.

Cory's eyes widened.

The cigar man crawled into the room.

“You're really good at that,” Andy grinned. “What an actor.”

Gian looked at Andy, “You owe me. I know you're getting paid for this.”

“I'll cut you some.”

“I don't want money. I want you to take him upstairs,” he said, pointing to Cory. “And later, he's mine.”

“You want him now?”

“No, when I'm finished with the old guy.” He walked over to Cory. He looked at him for a moment and then wiped the tears off his cheeks. He wanted to take care of him suddenly. He undid his Beaconsfield shirt, took it off and put it around him. “Wait for me in your room.”

Cory nodded.

“Wow,” Tim ran his hand over one of Gian's arms. “You got bigger biceps than me and look at those pecs. I've been working on mine for years and—”

“Tim, shut up,” Andy said “and take Cory back upstairs.”

Tim quietly left with Cory.

“There's a whip on the wall in the other room,” Andy said. “Have fun.”

Gian went into the room and looked at that pathetic bastard kneeling there, his hands together as if they were tied. “Don't hurt me,” he pleaded, his gaze roaming over him. “If you take off those pants, I'll be really scared,” he whispered, his chest heaving.

“Really?” Gian replied, his voice full of hate. “Well, you're not going see what I got in my pants. You are a dirty scumbag, you know that, a lowlife not fit to crawl over the earth. I heard all about what you did to Daniel. You want a beating? It will be my pleasure to give you one.” Gian leaned over him, his lips very close to his ear. “I'm going to give you the beating of your life and then I don't ever want to see you back here again. Is that clear?”

He nodded, breathing hard.

Gian took the whip down off the wall. “I'm going to enjoy this much more than you know,” he said, and each time he cracked the whip across the man's buttocks, he whispered, “This is for Daniel.”

* * * *

Cory sat on the bed and looked at Tim.

“I want to fuck you, Cory,” Tim told him, “don't you like me a little?”

He shrugged. “Doesn't matter, does it, if I like you, or not? You're going to do it anyway.”

“My biceps aren't as nice as his and he has fantastic pecs, but maybe he's got no balls and a small cock.”

Cory sighed. “Could be, but I doubt it.”

Tim ran his hands over him. “Lie down and let me touch you.”

Cory shivered at his touch, but it wasn't half as bad as that cigar guy. He lay back, prepared for his fate. Tim got on top of him and Cory turned off his mind. Suddenly he gasped as he felt Tim being pulled off him. He sat up to see Gian, who had Tim by the collar. He wrapped Gian's shirt around him.

Tim was on the floor. “What did you do that for?”

“Because Andy said he was mine tonight. I don't want your sloppy seconds,” Gian growled. “Now, get out!”

Tim got to his feet. “Maybe we could share.”

“Yeah and maybe we couldn't,” Gian glared at him.

“I think you're hot.”

Gian shoved him toward the door. “I think you're not. Now get out.”

He left with a sigh. “You'll change your mind,” he called on the way down the hall.

“Yeah right,” Gian mumbled, “not even if the only thing left to fuck was a hole in the ground.”

Cory gasped, then laughed. “I can't believe you said that to him.”

“What?” Gian came over to the bed.

“What you just said about the hole in the ground. That was wild.” Cory shook his head.

Gian looked down at him. Slowly, Cory removed the shirt from around his shoulders and lay on the bed. “You are so hot, everyone here thinks so. I can't believe you want me. I want you, too. Finally I really want to do it with someone.”

Gian looked at him. He reached down and drew the blanket up over his nakedness.

Cory sat up. “What's wrong?”

“I ... can't do this,” he said.

“But you said you wanted me.”

“Listen to me,” Gian said, sitting on the edge of the bunk. “If anyone asks, we did it tonight, all right?”

“Why are we lying? Why don't we just make love?”

“I...” he hesitated."I can't.”

“I don't understand. Are you impotent?”

“Impotent?” His eyes widened.

“You know ... can't get it up?”

Gian laughed faintly. “I know what it means, Cory.”

“Then?”

“Just do as I ask you,” he whispered.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” Cory asked.

“No.” Gian got up from the bed. “Get some sleep. It will all be over soon.”

Cory watched him leave. What would all be over soon?

* * * *

When Gian left the room, he was shaking. He had just beaten an old pervert with a whip and part of him had enjoyed it in a sadistic kind of way. And then there was the way Cory made him feel when he looked at him lying there naked ... and that, he didn't even want to begin to think about.

The following night, Gian called Clint. He told him about his experiences so far.

“Are you all right?” Clint asked.

“No. I'm very depressed. Is it enough or not?”

Clint sighed. “Can you witness without participating?”

“Damn it, Clint, I can't stand by and watch these boys being sexually assaulted. No, I won't do that.”

“You need to get some of the boys to talk to you.”

“I'm working on that.”

“Can you take pictures?”

Gian moaned. “Pictures?”

“Make them believe you're one of them. Tell ‘em you like to take pictures, or videos.”

“They're not going to buy that.”

“Do what you can. Go straight nights now.”

Gian sighed and hung up. He phoned Mason to request the night shift. Before he went to work that evening, he threw up twice.

Daniel was ready to come out of sickbay, but when Gian came to work that night, he insisted he remain there.

Cory was in visiting with Daniel when Gian arrived. He was surprised to see him there at night during the week.

“I think he needs another few days,” Gian said.

“But I feel all right,” Daniel protested.

Gian came over to him and smoothed back his hair. “Stay here, Danny, its safe here.”

“Will you visit me?”

“Of course.”

Cory looked at him, then away. Gian left with a nod at Cory, but he didn't say anything. Cory was hurt that he'd rejected him last night. He wouldn't even kiss him, yet he'd gone off into a room with that old cigar man.

* * * *

“What's wrong, Cory?” Daniel asked him.

“Nothing. See you later,” he stormed out. He found Gian coming out of the recreation room. “So,” he accused, “you prefer old men to me, eh?”

Gian lifted an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about last night. If you had tried me, you...”

Gian took his arm and quickly steered him into the bathroom.

“This is more like it,” Cory said, trying to wrap his arms around him.

Gian untangled himself from him. “I asked you to tell people we had done it last night and here you are announcing at the top of your lungs that I never touched you.”

“Why didn't you touch me? Do you find me ugly?” Cory demanded.

“No, Cory. I don't find you ugly,” Gian sighed.

“Then why the old guy and not me?” Tears stung his eyes.

“I had my reasons.”

“I'm hurt that you ... I mean ... I really wanted to do it with you last night.” He lowered his head.

Gian lifted his chin with his finger. He smiled at him. “I'm flattered. Thank you. But I can't make love to you, Cory,” his voice softened, “not now and not ever.”

Cory looked up at him with sad eyes. “Who are you anyway?”

Gian stepped away from him. “I'm a guard,” he said. “Now go and get ready for bed,” he added hastily. “And remember, you promised to keep our secret?”

“I don't understand why you want me to lie, but if anyone asks, I'll say we did it. Were you supposed to be any good at it?” Cory added with a grin.

Gian smiled faintly. “That part, I'll leave up to your imagination.”

Cory took one last look at him, “With a guy who looks as good as you do, shouldn't be hard for my imagination to work overtime.”

He reached out and ruffled his hair, much the same way as he did with Daniel.

Cory gave him a curious look. “You treat me like a little boy.”

“That's because to me,” Gian replied, “you are a little boy.”

“But I'm not. I'm almost nineteen and I'm not even officially supposed to be here.”

He left Gian in the bathroom, not quite sure what to make of this guy. He just knew that in spite of his physical attractiveness, he was a very odd character.

* * * *

Gian thought a lot about what Clint said to him on the phone. He really hated this assignment. He hated pretending to be a pervert and he hated waiting. He wanted to put an end to this and he knew that if he wasn't careful, he could blow the entire thing.

He hadn't been prepared for Cory, that's for sure. Not only was Cory already suspicious of him, he seemed to be genuinely attracted to him. He was nineteen years old and a man. He had to keep his distance from him because he had literally been tempted last night for a fraction of a second when he lay naked on that bed in front of him. That wasn't good.

It wasn't the first time he'd been tempted on an undercover assignment. Sometimes the job called for it and, attracted or not, he was forced to sleep with someone. He hated using and manipulating people and sometimes he had no choice, but having any sexual contact with Cory could hurt this case. It was unethical and a potential powder keg.

He had managed to put Daniel in a place where he at least was protected for the time being. He had talked to Mason and Mason agreed to keep him in sickbay for as long as it took. He couldn't protect them all, but Daniel was the most vulnerable right now and he was suffering already.

He was going to have to become an insider, whether he wanted to or not. He had to convince those creeps that he was just as sick and twisted as they were without actually participating. That was a trick.

He was beginning to get close to Daniel, who he was sure in time would confess everything, but it would take awhile. That was perfectly normal given his experience with adult men. As for Cory, he wasn't sure how far to push this with him yet. He could turn on him, tell Andy he'd been asking questions.

He had bought a movie camera and tonight he would tell Andy that he wanted to take pictures for his own personal viewing pleasure. He would see what kind of reaction he'd get. He seriously doubted Andy would go for it, but it was worth a try.

Next week, Mason promised that Daniel would be moved out of sickbay and transferred to another facility. No one would ever hurt him again. But right now, he had to keep working on him, try to break him down so that he would tell him about the things that had happened to him.

Gian began doing bed checks. He saw the one they called Pug supervising some of the boys as they came out of the bathrooms after brushing their teeth. He watched him pull Ace aside, whisper something in his ear and then fondle his genitals roughly before he pushed him away.

Gian made his hands into fists and slammed his jaw together. It was hard to stand there and watch that, but he had to let the little things go until he was sure he had enough of a case to arrest all three of them.

Pug came down the hall now. He did have a face like a bulldog, ugly as sin. “Hey, stud,” he cooed. “All quiet down here?”

“It's fine,” Gian said. “What about you?”

“Cool. So,” he said, lowering his voice, “how long you been into S and M?”

“A while. I like to experiment,” he shrugged.

“Maybe sometime we could experiment together.”

“Maybe,” Gian replied. “But I like to take pictures you know ... use a video camera.”

Pugs eyes widened. “You're one sick puppy. You like to watch it after you do it, eh?”

“Well, its something to watch,” Gian met his eyes boldly, giving him a cocky grin.

“I bet it is,” he drawled, his gaze following Cory down the hall. “You see that?”

“Yes, I see it,” Gian replied.

“That's one hot guy. You should have seen him when they first brought him in ... what a cocky street whore he was. The rougher you gave it to him, the better. I'd love to see the two of you together. Bet he'd really get off on you.”

“I would love it, but he's not my type.”

“Oh, he's everyone's type when you want it rough and dirty. He's one horny guy. What about the other night, did you enjoy it?”

“The other night ... yeah ... well it was all right for an entree.”

Pug laughed. “Let's go get him, bring him downstairs just the two of us before Andy comes, rip off his clothes and do him good.”

“I can't right now. I have bed check. Maybe later.”

“I wouldn't mind ripping off your clothes,” he said softly, close to his ear.

“Oh yeah?” Gian regarded him with a bland expression. “Don't distract me, honey. I have work to do.”

“Hey,” Pug said as Gian began to walk away, “tell Cory I'll see him later and that you and me are going to do him good. That should get his juices flowing.” He started laughing.

Gian gave him a forced smile. “Sure, if I get the chance.” When he arrived at Cory's room, he was already in bed, the lamp on. He was reading a book. “Ready for bed?” Gian walked into the room.

“Are you giving me an invitation?” Cory smiled.

“Yeah, an invitation to turn out the light and go to sleep.”

“Boring.”

Gian laughed. “Well, I for one like boring old sleep.”

“Is Daniel ever coming back? I miss him,” Cory said. “Is he all right?”

“He's fine. Don't worry about Daniel,” Gian told him, leaning over and switching off the lamp.

Cory reached up and wrapped his fingers around his wrist.

Gian paused.

Cory pulled his hand down to his lips and kissed it.

Gian slowly slid his hand out of his grasp. “What was that for?”

“Just because you're the kind of man I'd want, if I were out there looking for one.”

“Ah.” He wasn't sure what to say to that.

“Goodnight, Gian Franca,” Cory murmured. He rolled over and closed his eyes.

“Goodnight, Cory,” Gian replied softly and left.

“What's this shit about taking pictures?” Andy demanded as Gian came out of the guard's office.

He was face to face with Andy now, all three hundred and fifty pounds of him. Gian towered over him, which made him feel somewhat bigger, at least in height.

“Nothing, I just told Pug that I like to video tape shit, that's all.”

“What shit?” He eyed him.

“Like the boys. I'd like to video tape the boys.”

“With you?”

“Not necessarily. They could be with you. It's just a hobby of mine. Maybe you could turn it on for me sometimes when ... you know, the boys are down there and you are getting hot.”

“How bout you turn it on for me?” Andy took a step toward him. There was no one in the hallway. It was dark except for the emergency lights.

He smelt really bad. How repulsive.

“You talk the good talk, baby, but do you walk the walk?”

“I really like to watch,” Gian breathed, bringing his mouth close to Andy's neck. “It turns me on.”

Andy began to undo his shirt, revealing those rolls of fat. He had breasts as big as any female. He was breathing hard. “Suck on these,” he invited, lifting his nipples.

“Here? Now?” Gian looked around. “How ‘bout we do this downstairs later so I can give those my full attention?”

Andy reached out and brushed his hand against Gian's groin. “I want to see it.”

“Downstairs. Will you let me bring my camera?”

Andy began to do up his shirt. He looked up at him. “You might be pretty, but that doesn't mean a damn thing. I'll expect you downstairs later and bring that camera. I'll give you a show you won't forget. And when you come, bring Cory and Tony with you.”

He swallowed. “Okay.”

“You do like them, don't you?”

“Sure.”

Andy eyed him, then he reached around and pulled the tie off his hair. He looked at him for a moment. “Damn, you are something to look at. Tonight we'll spend some time looking at the rest of you.”

Gian watched him waddle off down the hall.

Andy paused suddenly and turned around. “I'll have another uniform issued, cause baby tonight I'm going to rip that thing off you with my teeth.”

“Can't wait,” Gian whispered. Andy laughed all the way down the hall. Gian went into the bathroom and ran cold water over his face, being within inches of that fat bastard made him feel as if he'd been rolling around in vomit. He couldn't imagine having to put his mouth on any part of that, let alone suck those woman sized breasts. Damn, there was something's he wouldn't do, even for the NYPD.

He put off going to get Tony and Cory until the last minute. He brought the video camera with him. He could do this. He could fake what ever he needed to in order to get this on film. Even if he had to touch that piece of garbage, he would if it meant he could be the one to put his ass in jail.

Cory was half asleep when he walked him down the hall. Tony seemed resigned. “Who's there?” he asked.

“Just us guards,” Gian said.

Cory glared at him. “So, you've joined the perverts finally?”

“Just shut up and hurry,” he said. In order to convince the guards, he had to try and convince everyone. If he did this right, he'd make himself the main player tonight and he would spare the boys misery. Andy was focused on him.

He decided as he pushed both of them in the room that he better give an academy award performance because Andy was looking for more then talk.

Tim came over to him. He was shirtless and he did a curl with his bicep. “I've been working out,” he said. “Soon they will be a nice as yours, nicer.”

“Congratulations,” he said.

Cory and Tony stood over by the wall. Cory was giving him a look that was tearing out his heart, but he had to ignore him.

Andy came over. “Are you ready to put your cock where your mouth is?”

Tim and Pug laughed at the joke.

“If you're willing to let me film it? Unless I'm on camera, I can't get off.”

“A vain mother, isn't he?” Pug sneered. “He might not even have anything worth filming.”

“Set up the camera and we'll find out,” Gian teased, running a hand down to his groin.

Andy told Pug to turn on the camera. He sat it on the small table. The red light went on.

Andy then turned to Tony and Cory. “Come here, boys,” he demanded.

They both came closer.

“Pug, take off their clothes.”

Gian put up his hand. “Wait. I don't want anything taking attention away from me. This is my show and right now it's Andy I want.”

Andy grinned, taking off his shirt. “Make sure you watch boys because it's going to make you hot.”

Gian sucked in some breath. He needed to focus because when Andy came close to him, bile began to rise in his throat.

Andy grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled. The buttons flew in the air and he yanked it off one arm, then another. He took his time running his hands over his chest, pinching his nipples so hard Gian winced. “Nice,” he said.

Pug and Tim reacted to the stimulation by fondling themselves.

* * * *

In spite of the fact that Cory was quite disappointed to find that Gian was no better than the others and that he had shitty taste in men, he felt himself get hard looking at him. He was close enough that he could imagine that Andy was not between them and Gian was touching him.

Andy undid the belt on Gian's pants and slid it off.

Cory stifled a moan.

* * * *

Gian looked over at the camera to check the light. It was still working.

Andy took his time unzipping his pants, then reached up and bit his nipples. He backed away and Cory pleaded, “Andy, don't stop.”

Gian's expression was unreadable. He was trying to come up with a fantasy in his mind so he could get hard, but damn it was a challenge.

Andy stripped the rest of his clothes off.

That was the worst, Gian thought. If he was beginning to get erect, he had lost it altogether when Andy took off his clothes.

Andy pushed Cory onto his knees and made him take his cock into his mouth.

Gian concentrated on that for a minute and he was instantly hard. He felt ashamed of getting erect over that, but for a second he wished Cory was doing that to him. Anyway, didn't matter how he got there, he was there. He was hard as rock and the camera clicked away.

Andy pulled Cory up to his feet and turned him around, not close enough to touch Gian, but closer than he was before. “You like that?”

“Oh God yes,” Cory replied.

Andy laughed. “Pug, hold him.”

Pug took him back to the same place.

“Then you'll probably like this,” he said, reaching for Gian's zipper. Instead of pushing down his pants and underwear, he lifted his erection out of his pants. He was standing in the way and Cory couldn't see anything.

Tony could however and he cried out. “Baby,” really loud which caused Andy to laugh.

Andy slapped his cock brutally for a moment, which caused Gian to draw his head back and stifle a groan of pain, then he stood aside and looked at Cory. “What do you think of that?”

Cory's gaze settled over him. It was beautiful, but then everything about him was beautiful. “I want it. I want him. Can I have him?”

“Maybe,” Andy replied.

“No,” Gian said, looking at Andy.

Andy pulled down his pants and underwear. “Step out of them. Let's see what's so great about you! Turn around.”

Gian turned around, feeling like he was on display. He had lost the hard on already. This was not sexually stimulating at all.

“Nice ass.”

He suddenly felt Andy grab him from behind. For a horrifying second, he thought he was going to enter him and he would have fought him, but instead he spread his cheeks and began to lick him.

Gian closed his eyes. He tried to give the impression that he was enjoying the sensation. He was fondling him again at the same time and then he stopped and turned him around. “Can I tie your hands?” he asked.

Before Gian could reply, he showed him the handcuffs. “It's just for the boys.”

Andy lifted his wrists and clamped them to a specially fitted pole above him.

Andy looked at Cory and Tony. “Devour him, boys.”

Gian pulled on the cuffs. “No, Andy,” he said. “I wanted you, not them.”

“You want that instead of me?” Cory snapped as Pug grabbed him.

Gian didn't reply.

Cory was glaring at him. “See this,” Cory lifted his erection, “you gave this to me, you bastard, and now you don't want to pay up.”

Pug was laughing as Andy moved closer to Gian. He ran his hands over him and then took a handful of what looked like grease. He oiled his hand and his arm. Gian's eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“You want it, baby, or you want me?”

Gian closed his eyes then opened them. “Look, undo these all right.”

“And then what?” Andy teased, rubbing his own chest and pulling on his nipples.

“What would you like me to do?”

“I want you to ride me like the stud I know you are.”

Cory cried out suddenly as Pug grabbed him.

Tony was being tormented by Tim.

“Anything you want,” Gian replied. “But the boys go back upstairs. No audience.”

Andy released his wrists. Gian rubbed them where the cuffs had been.

Andy handed him the grease. “You're a big guy so grease me well and do it slow and deep. I like the sensation and talk dirty to me while you do it. Tim, take the boys upstairs.”

Gian actually gagged. Thank god he turned his head so the other two guards didn't see. Cory however saw his expression and gave him a strange look on the way out.

Damn, he was as soft as dough again and he had no idea how in the hell he was going to get hard enough to do this. Thank God, he could hide his lack of erection behind Andy's enormous butt. He'd seen this done although he'd never done it himself. It wasn't his idea of a good time.

“Deeper, baby,” Andy urged as he began. “Talk dirty to me.

Damn, this was the grossest thing he'd ever done. He felt the bile rise in this throat. “Let me tell you,” he began, “tell you ah ... what I'm going to do to you once I bury my fist into your enormous ass. You know I can do this far better with my fist than my cock. I can go deeper until you squirm, cry out for mercy.”

“Do it, baby, do it!”

He drove his arm as deep into him as he could possibly go and held onto his stomach as he did it. When Andy came, it was disgusting. He turned around, grabbed Gian, kissed him deeply on the mouth and then came all over him.

When he looked up, Cory was still in the room. Tim had fastened him with cuffs now and Tim motioned to him. “Take Cory because he's dying for it, right kid?”

Gian told himself to remain calm. His arm was covered with grease and God knows what. God, he was going to soak it in peroxide when he got out of here. He picked up a towel and wiped his arm. He felt physically ill.

“Do it, Gian, fuck him, “Andy demanded.

“Then go over to the far wall and watch from there,” Gian instructed. “If you're too close, I can't get hard.”

They all moved away. He could fake this. No problem.

He placed his arms around Cory's waist and pressed his groin against his buttocks.

Cory struggled.

“Struggle, that's okay,” Gian growled, “turns me on even more.”

“Pervert,” he struggled again.

Gian tightened his hold on him, he kept his hands above his waist, brought his lips near his neck to look like he was kissing him.

* * * *

Cory was struggling less now. Gian felt so good against him. He wished he'd touch him, bring his hands down and fondle his genitals. His cock was aching for his caress. His groin against his buttocks was making him hot. He got hard, completely helpless in his arms like this.

Gian's hair brushed his cheek. Cory laid his head back on his shoulder and moaned against him.

“Oh look how hard he is,” Andy moaned. “He likes you, Gian.”

“Um ... I can see that,” Gian replied.

“Touch me,” Cory urged, squirming in his arms, which was not making it easy.

“Listen to me,” he whispered. The others were jeering, making noise, they couldn't hear. “Don't say a word. I'm only going to pretend to do this. Move like I'm inside you.”

Cory lifted his head up. Then he started struggling again. “You bastard! Why don't you want me? What in hell is wrong with me?”

Gian tightened his hold on him. “Stop this,” he urged.

But he was swearing at him now. “The others want me, but you ... you...”

Gian didn't know what the hell to do or how to shut him up, so he moved around him and grabbed his face and kissed him. He kissed him hard and, for a moment, there was blissful silence.

The kiss deepened as Cory returned it two fold and then Gian came back to reality and pulled his mouth away. He stepped behind him again. He pushed against him. “Yell or moan or something, God damn it!”

Cory was in shock, stunned that he was only pretending to have sex with him. It was damn frustrating and it wasn't because Gian was soft, because he was hard as rock.

Gian came against him, keeping his eyes closed, making believe he was inside him. It was amazing that he could come just by pretending. He didn't even want to imagine what really being with him might be like. Anyway, he hadn't done anything outside the law, nothing he could truly be reprimanded for, but everything about this case made him feel like shit.

He moved away.

Cory gave him the dirtiest look and Andy laughed. “Guess he didn't take to your cock like I thought there, pretty boy.”

“Guess not,” Gian said. “I'm tired now.”

“No problem,” Andy said as Tim and Pug began to do up their pants.

Gian wiped himself off with a towel and began to dress. He put his shirt back on without the buttons and went to get his camera. This would never have to happen again. He congratulated himself. If he could make it through that, he could do anything.

Andy handed him the camera.

Gian looked for the film, but it wasn't there.

“Looking for this?” Andy asked, holding it up.

Gian sucked in some breath. “It's mine.”

“No. It's mine,” he said. He threw it on the floor and stepped on it. It cracked in two. He then bent over, picked it up and pulled out the tape. “Sorry.”

Gian wanted to kill him.

Andy came over to him and then leaned in, running his tongue over his chest. “Um ... you I could get into ... very tasty, nipples so hard and brown just the way I like them.” He stepped away. “Go take Cory back to his room and then we'll talk you and me.”

“Talk about what?” Gian asked him, his voice angry. “You had no right to destroy that. We had an agreement.”

“We will discuss this video thing. It might be a new line of work.”

Cory was now free of the cuffs. He went to put on his pyjamas, but Andy snatched them away. “No. Stay naked. It's a real turn on.”

He ran his hand through Cory's hair and then looked at Gian. “The two of you are so beautiful together. We could make a mint.”

This was getting too weird. Gian sighed. “I'm no porn star.”

“You look like one,” he smiled. He walked over to Cory and slapped his buttocks hard, then he pushed him on his knees and whacked him with his belt buckle.

Gian fought to stay still.

Cory was crying.

“Next time if you react inappropriately when Gian takes you, I'll beat you harder than this. How dare you struggle! You belong to us. We do what ever we choose with you, you understand? If I want to rape you, I will, if I want to torture you, I will. You are here for my pleasure.” He yanked him up to his feet.

Cory nodded, tears on his face. “I'm sorry, Andy. I know you can do what you want to me. I'll be good.”

“Gian, will take you back now.”

Gian made Cory walk in front of him. He took off his shirt as they reached the first landing and put it around him.

Cory turned around and looked at him strangely.

When they reached the end of the hallway, Cory turned around and said, “You hated doing that to Andy, didn't you?” When Gian didn't answer, Cory said, “Andy turns you right off, you can't even get a hard on for him.”

He was not stupid, that's for sure. Gian sighed. “Look, its time for bed, okay? Are you all right?”

Cory shrugged. “I'm used to it. It will hurt like hell for a few hours, then it will be all right.”

Gian looked down to see blood running down his leg. “Come on,” he said, pulling him down the hall.

“Where you taking me?”

“Just shut up.”

“Are you taking me somewhere you can pretend to fuck me again?” Cory sneered. “You are one weird dude.”

Gian ignored the comment. He unlocked the medical office and turned on the light. “Get up on the table, on your stomach and spread your legs.”

“Oh, now you want me! Well, it's too late, I'm no longer interested.”

“Cory,” he snapped. “You're trying my patience. Just do what I say before one of those fucking bastards catch me.”

Cory blinked at him. “May I remind you that you are one of those fucking bastards?”

“No, I'm not,” he said, searching in the medicine cabinet.

“Then why didn't you do something tonight when Andy hit me?”

“Because I couldn't,” Gian sighed. “Now, will you do as I say and get up on the table?”

Cory went to lie down on the table, then turned over. “Be gentle cause I'm sore and.... I'd really like to see your face when you cum.”

Gian closed his eyes for a minute. The voice was so soft, it was barely audible. Damn, for him to believe he was one of those animals. He swallowed. Looking at the way he was laying there expecting him to just ... like an animal, like a god damned animal. His hands were shaking and he leaned against the wall for a minute. He bit his lip. He felt so sad suddenly and there was a storm going on inside him, a mix of anger and rage and just plain sadness ... for there to be such monsters in this world and for this to have gone on without anyone caring. God, when he thought of little Daniel, he wanted to string those men up and beat them bloody. He had to get a grip.

* * * *

Cory lifted his head and turned to look at him.

“What's wrong with you?” He asked. “Change your mind again? You are more then a little weird. I think you're even weirder then those jerk offs downstairs. At least they know what they want.”

Gian came over with the alcohol and ointment. “You don't know what you're talking about.” He began to clean the wound.

Cory jumped. “Ouch, what in hell are you doing now?”

“I'm playing doctor, bear with me.”

Cory lay still until he had finished. His hands were so gentle, he hardly felt any pain and having him touch him so gently there in that area gave him a raging hard on. “You better stop,” Cory told him as he finished smearing on the ointment, his breathing a little laboured. “You're making me hard as hell.”

“I'm finished,” he said, moving back.

Cory turned over and looked at him.

Gian took the shirt and laid it over Cory's lap, covering his erection. He had to control this sudden desire he felt whenever he was close to him.

“I can't figure you out,” Cory shook his head, arranging the shirt over him. “You are always covering me up. Do you find me that ugly?”

“Cory, stop asking me that!” he snapped. “You are not ugly. You are...” he paused, looking at his face. He reached over and touched his hair for a second, then drew his hand away, “you are the most beautiful...” then he stopped.

Cory reached for his hand. “I am the most beautiful what?”

He was looking at him so intently that Gian blushed. He had never done that before.

Cory smiled at him. “God, you're sweet,” he said, touching his cheek. “I'm embarrassing you.”

Gian looked away for a minute, but Cory reached up and turned his face around. “You know you gave me my first kiss tonight. Too bad we couldn't have been alone.”

“First kiss?”

“Yes, I've never been kissed like that before,” Cory said. “It left me breathless. Why did you kiss me like that?”

“To shut you up,” Gian replied.

“If I make a lot of noise now, will you kiss me like that again?”

“No. It was a one time deal,” he replied. “Now get down off that table and let's get out of here.”

Cory followed him out and waited until he locked the door. “I really liked it,” Cory told him as they made their way to his room.

“Don't like it too much,” he said.

Cory turned around and looked at him. “I don't get you.”

“Good,” he said. “You're not supposed to. Now go to sleep.”

“You could be the love of my life,” Cory said softly as he walked into his room.

“I'm not, believe me.”

“I think you are.”

“Think whatever you want,” he muttered. “You just told me a few minutes ago that I was weird.”

“More than weird, I said,” Cory teased.

“Well then I'm not exactly a good pick for the love of your life, am I?”

“But you kiss really good.”

“Really well, I kiss really well ... and you can't base a relationship on kissing,” he replied and left the room.

Cory crawled into bed. No, he thought, but it would sure as hell be worth a try.

* * * *

Andy had clothes on, thank God when he went back down into that room. He would be glad when this night was over. He was exhausted and depressed.

Andy was rattling on about movies. “We could do snuff films. Keep the young ones and, when they get older, get rid of them.”

Gian stiffened. Jesus, was there no end to this man's evilness? “Not a good idea,” Gian shook his head, “too much explaining to do. It would mean kids would disappear.”

“So? We get prostitutes off the street that no one cares about. You could do it.”

“Me?” Gian replied. “Do what? Kill someone?”

“You're so beautiful. They'd be content to die in your arms.”

This was getting to be way too much. “Just straight porn would be better.”

“All right. You and the boys.”

“Can we talk about this another time, Andy? I'm beat. Time for me to go home.”

“Sure.”

He got up and waved to the other two. “See you tonight.”

Andy winked at him. “I loved what you did to me tonight. Tomorrow night, I want you to use your billy.”

Gian felt sick. “Sure, sexy,” he winked back. “Anything you want.” As soon as he got home, he stepped into the shower and stayed there for almost an hour. When he got out, he couldn't sleep. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and got blind drunk, then went to sleep. Somewhere in his sleep, he knew what he had to do.

Clint met him later that day at a coffee shop. “You look like shit,” he said.

“I feel like shit. Clint, I want hidden a camera in that room at Beaconsfield.”

“I thought you were going to play the pervert card and...”

“I did, but Andy smashed my tape. You can go in there in the day and set it up when they're off duty. I'll show them where to put them. I can't wear a wire for obvious reasons.”

Clint rubbed his arm. “We'll have to get the go ahead, Gian. You know it's an ethical—”

“Get the go ahead. Look, Clint, they're talking porno movies now. They even said snuff films last night.”

“Jesus. Can you get that kid to talk?”

“I'm going in now to talk to him. He's scared, but I think I can break him.”

“Okay, get that kid to make a statement. Maybe we won't need the camera.”

“Remember, he's a little boy. His testimony may not stick. Clint, how long is this going to take?”

“A week at the most, after you break the kid.”

“It better because I hate this,” Gian replied, running a hand through his hair. “If I get Cory to talk, it would be better. He's not a minor ... but I don't know if I can trust him.”

“It's a judgment call.”

Gian nodded, then without another word, he got up and left the coffee shop.

* * * *

Daniel was looking out the window of the infirmary. He was glad to see Gian. “Hi,” he said. “I'm lonely in here. When can I go?”

“We're going to move you to another facility. Would you like that?”

“Only if Cory comes, too.”

“Cory will be out of here soon, Daniel. He's older than you.”

“But I won't leave him here alone.” Daniel came over to where Gian stood.

“Why not?”

“Cause its scary and he's my friend.”

“What if I told you I could protect him from the bad men?”

“Really?”

“Yes, but you have to want to tell me about them and tell other people. There are people out there who can stop these bad men from hurting you, Cory and the other boys.”

“But what if they come...” Daniel's eyes filled with tears. He hugged Gian's waist.

Gian hugged him back. “I won't let them, Daniel. I promise you. I will protect you. You have to believe me or this will never stop.”

“What do I have to say?”

“Everything, you have to say everything they did to you and to the others.”

“Will you be there with me when I say it?”

“Yes. I promise. I'll be there with you and I'll hold your hand.”

He nodded. “Okay, but I won't have to say anything here, right?”

“No,” Gian smiled. “I'm taking you away from here, today.”

Daniel hugged him again. “Cory will be all right?”

“I promise that I will be here to protect him.”

At two o'clock that afternoon, Gian arrived with Daniel at the Manhattan precinct.

Social services were there within the hour.

Daniel was scared and he held on to Gian's hand the whole time, not allowing him to leave the room.

When it came time for Gian to go and speak with the District Attorney, Daniel began to cry. “Don't go, Gian. Don't leave me, you promised.” The tears came in rivers.

Ms. Tangelli from social services looked surprised. “He's very attached to you.”

Gian nodded at her, then leaned down and looked directly at Daniel, placing his hands on his little shoulders. “Listen to me. I'm going to have to protect Cory now. Cory is all alone there. You want me to protect Cory, don't you?”

“Yes, I want you to go and protect him,” he urged, trying to stop crying. Then he said, “Gian, are you really a policeman?”

Gian winked at him. “Yeah, I'm really a policeman. Promise you won't tell?”

“I won't tell,” he said, shaking his head. “But that doesn't mean you won't marry me when I grow up, does it?”

Gian laughed. “We'll talk about that later, Daniel.”

The social worker was smiling.

“Here's Ms. Tangelli. You like Ms. Tangelli, don't you?”

“Yes,” he said. He reached up and took her hand.

She smiled at him. “How bout some French fries?”

He grinned. “Okay.”

Gian rubbed his head affectionately. “I'll be back. Be brave.”

Daniel looked at him. “You, too. You be brave, too.”

Gian nodded. His heart was in his throat. “Take care of him,” he told the social worker as he left. “He's just a little boy, you know.”

Gian left the department feeling all keyed up. There were a thousand emotions running through him. The meeting with the D.A. had been more frustrating then anything else. They couldn't guarantee cameras. “It might seem like entrapment,” he was told. “Daniel's statement looks promising, but would it hold up in court? He can't hold your hand on the witness stand. He's a little young. What about some of the older boys? Won't they testify?” Gian told him he was working on it. “We could get them on child abuse and they will end up doing a couple of years, get some counselling for pedophiles and be back at it, but the snuff films...”

What in hell kind of world did they live in anyway, he thought, driving toward Beaconsfield? Did someone have to die before he could arrest these guys? Did he have to let that big ton of shit slobber all over him again? How long could he protect these kids? He was doing the best that he could, but Andy and his followers were going to be expecting more and more from him as time went on. And what about the Johns? He had chased one away, but he couldn't get rid of all of them.

He was not feeling very optimistic. He knew that he was pretty much on his own. The only thing he could do in the meantime was try to protect the boys and endure what ever he had to, until he could get his own camera in there.

At least he had saved one boy from the likes of these monsters.

When he arrived that evening, Andy was in a foul mood. “What in the hell did they do with Daniel?” He demanded.

Pug was standing next to the recreation room and Gian heard him say. “I was told they moved him. He was sick or something.”

“God damn it,” Andy said. “What if he talks?”

* * * *

Cory came out of the recreation room now, making a wide path so that he could pass Pug at the door. He looked up at Gian as he came down the hall. “Hi,” he said.

Gian briefly nodded at him and kept going.

Cory turned around to watch him join the others at the door. The three of them were talking and laughing about something. Gian Franca was a walking contradiction. Sometimes he acted like he enjoyed those guys company and other times, he could have sworn he was repulsed by them. Cory went to sit in the library. He picked up a book he was doing a report on and started to read.

A few minutes later, Tony came in, “Did you hear that Danny is gone?”

Cory gasped. “Gone where?”

“I don't know. He's gone. He was taken from sickbay, transferred apparently.”

“Well, I'm glad. At least he's out of here. I would have liked to have said goodbye to him.”

“Talk to the new guy, Franca, he's the one who took him out of here today.”

Cory stiffened. “He took him?”

“Yep. I saw him put him in his car. I was outside shovelling the path.”

“That bastard. I knew he wanted him for himself!” Cory scraped back his chair.

“Where you going, Cory?” Tony asked, but Cory ran out of the library.

Gian was still in front of the door with Andy and Pug when Cory made a lunge for him. The move was completely unexpected and the impact of his body at running speed knocked Gian to the floor.

Cory was on top of him, punching, “You bastard, you son of a bitch,” Cory screamed at him. “What have you done with Daniel?”

Gian grabbed his wrists and flipped him on his back. He covered him, holding him perfectly still.

Cory tried to spit at him.

Gian tightened his hold. “Stop it, Cory. You're making things worse, just shut up,” he gave him a warning look with his eyes.

“What's he talking about?” Andy demanded.

“You took him. Tony saw you put him in a car. Where did you take him, Gian? He's just a kid, a little kid, you sick fuck!”

Gian pulled him to his feet.

“Want me to take him?” Pug demanded.

“No, he's mine to deal with.” Gian replied, dragging him down the hallway as Cory struggled against his hold. He threw him into an isolation room and slammed the door. “Calm the fuck down! Daniel is fine.”

“What did you do with him?” Cory demanded, drawing his foot back and kicking him hard in the shin.

“Jesus, you're vicious,” he groaned, rubbing his shin. “Daniel has been transferred.”

“Yeah, to your bed I bet.”

Gian reached out and slapped Cory across the face. It wasn't hard, but it stung. “Don't you ever say that to me again!” He told him angrily. “Don't you ever insinuate that I would touch that child in that way or I swear to God, I'll kick your ass.”

Cory reached up and rubbed his face. “What am I supposed to think?”

“Nothing. Stop thinking. All you do is think, and you're not making this easy. Listen, in the future, when you want to accuse me of something, come to me privately all right? The whole institution doesn't have to know about it.”

“So you didn't take Daniel?”

Gian sighed. “Yes, I did take him, but it's not what you think. Don't worry. He's safe all right?” Gian rubbed his leg again. “Now stay in here and think about your behaviour.”

“You think about your behaviour,” Cory sat and folded his arms.

“That's all I do lately, think about my behaviour, so don't worry. I'll be back when I think you've had enough punishment.”

“Not much of a punishment,” Cory scoffed.

“It's the best I can do at the moment,” he made a face. “Be grateful,” he said and shut the door.

Cory gave the door a confused look.

* * * *

Andy was waiting for him when he came back down the hall. “Everything under control?” he asked, matter of fact.

“Yep,” Gian replied.

“What was that all about?”

“I have no idea,” Gian played innocent.

“Did you take Daniel somewhere in a car today?”

“Why in the hell would I come here in the middle of the day to take Daniel somewhere in my car after working all night?”

“I don't know,” Andy mused, “you tell me.”

“Ask Mr. Mason about it. Maybe they transferred him somewhere else.”

“But why?” Andy persisted.

“You're asking the wrong person, Andy.”

“Tony says he saw you put Daniel in the car.”

Andy eyed him.

“Maybe Tony saw someone who looks like me with Daniel.”

“Highly un-bloody likely,” he snorted. “Not many men around that look like you.”

Gian lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I guarantee you it wasn't me. Now sorry to break up this chitchat, Andy, but I have rounds to do. It's bedtime.”

“We need to talk about something after. Oh and don't bother taking Cory to bed. Bring him directly down, he has a client. Bring Frank with him. It's rough trade tonight.”

Gian nodded. “Fine,” he said, walking away. He knew what rough trade was. Gian made his rounds thinking about what he could do to keep things under control tonight. When he got to Frank's room, he told him he was wanted downstairs.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Regs.”

“What? Who are they?” Gian asked him.

“Oh, two deadbeats who get off on dressing up like leather guys.”

Gian placed a hand on Frank's shoulder before he left the room. “Are you going to be all right, Frank?”

Frank met his eyes. “I'd be better if you'd move that hand down just a twinge lower,” he teased.

Gian removed his hand. “I'm serious. Are these guys mean?”

He shrugged. “Naw, just goofy. Don't worry.”

Gian watched him disappear. He sighed. He was more than worried. He hated this. He had been in this position often when he was undercover. Someone would get beaten up in front of him and he'd have to stand by and let it happen. He'd always be trying to make the situation better, protect the person without giving away his identity, but it was tough.

Now as he went to get Cory in isolation, he felt that anxious feeling again. If only he could get Cory to open up, follow in Daniel's footsteps. He was an adult, old enough to hold up under questioning. The D.A. would be more confident he could win.

Gian went into the room and found Cory in the same place he was before he left. “I was wondering when you were going to pick me up, honey,” he smirked at him.

Gian scowled. “Not funny. You have to go downstairs.”

“Oh, the screwballs are here,” Cory muttered, getting up with a sigh.

“Cory,” Gian said, blocking his path.

Cory looked up at him. “Yes, honey? With you standing in my way like that, makes me think you want to do me right here and now.”

“Stop it,” he snapped. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“The answer for you, baby, is yes, yes, yes.” He met his eyes. “Anything you want, you got it, as the man in the song says.”

“Really?” Gian asked softly.

Cory sobered. “Yes, I think so. Really. What's your little fantasy?”

“It's not a fantasy. It's a question. Have you ever tried to tell anyone what is happening here?”

Cory looked stumped. “What do you mean?”

“I mean ... have you ever gone to Mr. Mason and told him that the guards are abusing you?”

Cory laughed bitterly. “You think he'd believe me? A former prostitute? You got to be kidding!”

“What if I told you that someone might be willing to listen to you if you wanted this all to stop.”

Cory narrowed his eyes. “Why in hell would I do that? Nothing would happen. I'd still be here. Andy and those guys would still be here and I'd be black and blue. No fucking way! Besides,” he eyed him, “I'd have to tell them about you, too.”

“Me?” Gian's eyes widened.

“About your participation. You and Andy and...”

“And what, Cory? Have I ever done anything to you?”

Cory paused. “No, not really.”

“What about the other boys?”

“Daniel maybe, I don't know.”

“I never touched Daniel,” Gian met his gaze. “Look at me and tell me honestly if you believe I molested Daniel?”

Cory shook his head. “No. I don't think so somehow.”

“Okay then.”

“Look, I have to go, the leather boys are waiting for me.”

Gian grabbed his arm. “Think about what I said. If I could guarantee someone would listen and you would be away from those guys, would you talk?”

Cory pulled away. “I don't know what your game is, but let me tell you something, you can't guarantee shit and if you don't tow the line, you'll be out of here. You don't have to play games to have me, Gian. If you want me, say the word, but don't promise me things you can't deliver. No one gives a fuck about us boys in here, so keep dreaming. And follow my motto, if you can't beat em, join em.”

With that, he was gone and Gian closed his eyes. Doubling up his fist, he drove it into the wall with such force it left a gaping hole. He left the room and ran down two flights of steps to catch up to Cory. “Wait,” he said. “I'm supposed to bring you.”

“Why? Its not like I don't know the way,” Cory made a face at him.

“I have orders.”

Cory walked faster. “You don't have to follow me around like a puppy. A person would think you liked me.”

Gian didn't reply. They came to the room and walked in. There were two men dressed in leather from head to toe tying Frank down to a table. It was bizarre, like he had walked into a circus show.

“Hi, guys,” Cory said, walking over to them. He turned around and gave Gian a sassy look. “Guess you'll just have to suffer, ‘cause you can't have me tonight.”

“Is that your boyfriend?” One of the guys asked through his mask.

“No, he means nothing to me,” Cory said stiffly.

Gian sighed inwardly. He was playing a head game with him.

Andy was there suddenly and Gian's intestines twisted into a knot.

“Hi, babe, you and me got talking to do then later,” his eyes went to the billy club, “you're going to be my daddy,” he cooed.

One of the men with the masks came over to Gian and said, “I'd love to be your daddy.”

“Hey, never mind him. What about me?” Cory demanded.

“I've never seen this one,” he looked at Andy.

“I'm not available,” Gian replied, giving the guy a deadly look. “So fuck off.”

“Why not?” He persisted.

“I have a date ... with destiny,” he quipped.

“He's impotent,” Cory chimed, laughing.

Gian held his tongue.

“Frank told me so, didn't you Frank?” Cory jibed.

“I said maybe,” Frank managed to say through his mouth bit.

“Are you?” the man asked him.

“He is,” Cory said, “because he doesn't want me and wouldn't you say,” he sided up to the guy in the mask, “that any man who doesn't want me has to be impotent?”

The man beside him grabbed him and kissed him. “Yeah, I'd say that.”

Gian rolled his eyes.

“And it's a real shame,” Cory continued, moving closer to Gian, “cause he has one hell of a package. Bet it would make you cum just looking at this guy naked, but it's faulty equipment.”

Andy watched the exchange between them and laughed. “Okay Cory, go do your thing. Mr. Impotent and I have to talk.”

Gian followed Andy into another room.

“He likes you,” Andy laughed.

“What?” Gian's face blanked.

“Cory, he has the hots for you big time. He's trying to make you jealous and he's baiting you. Are you too stupid to figure it out?”

“I'm not into it,” Gian replied. “Now what do you want to talk about, Andy?”

“A business proposition between the two of us. Partners fifty-fifty.”

“In the porn business,” Gian said.

“Yes. But really sexy films, not the boring crap of today. I want to do things that even the most ex-rated porn's won't do.”

“Using the boys here?”

“Of course, and you. You are so beautiful that you could stop time, Franca. Don't you think I don't notice how hot the boys are for you and the other two guards, as well? If we made an occasional snuff movie, we'd be rich.”

“I'll give it some thought.”

“Good. Now,” he moved closer, “you and I got a horny date. Take off my clothes and lick me all over.”

Gian stood. “Andy, there's nothing I'd rather do, but I forgot something. I forgot to lock the office upstairs.”

“Forget the office. It's okay. Do it later.”

“No. I left some sensitive stuff there. What if someone found it? Hold that thought. I promise I'll be right back.”

Andy groaned as Gian left the room. He tried not to look at what was going on with Tony and Cory and the two men in leather, but at least there was no violence.

He ran upstairs and then removed the pen he had in his wallet. He had brought a small tape recorder into the room that was made like a pen. He pressed rewind and then play. He heard the last three seconds of the conversation he had had with Andy. If the D.A. wasn't going to help him get the evidence he needed, then he'd get it himself.

He tucked the pen away in his locker and then took a long breath. He had to work up his courage to go back down there. He didn't want to come within ten feet of Andy Falcon tonight, but he had no choice. He had to stay in his good graces and that meant he would have to do what he had to do. He'd known this when he took this job.

He squared his shoulders and walked back down the stairs. When he walked in, the leather men were gone. He walked into the other room to find Andy lying naked on the bed and Cory sitting on the floor next to him.

“Got horny,” he said to Gian, “so Cory took care of me.”

“Then guess you don't need me,” Gian muttered.

“Oh yes I do. Cory and I decided that tonight we want to see you naked and Cory and I have a bet about you being impotent.”

“A bet,” he said flatly.

“Don't make me lose,” Cory looked at him.

“You bet against me,” Gian told him.

“Sure I did. It's not normal, you haven't had me yet.”

“I think you are just a little full of yourself,” Gian scoffed. “Not every man who sees you wants you!”

“Then you're a freak, abnormal and ... asexual,” Cory taunted.

“If you say so,” Gian answered.

Andy motioned to him. He held up a greased billy club. He handed it to Cory and turned on his stomach. “Give handsome the club,” he instructed.

“Maybe I should,” Cory said, looking up at him from the floor. “Maybe I should do this to you.” He crawled over to his feet and moved his hands up Gian's thighs.

Gian sucked in some breath. “You won't be doing that to me.” He took the club out of his hand and threw it aside.

Cory clutched his knees, raising his eyes to his groin. “Let me take it out, hold it a minute?”

Gian moved away from him. “No,” he said. “Go to bed. I want to be alone with Andy.”

Cory frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Fine,” he got up and threw the blanket down. He stood there completely naked. “But you look at me and tell me you don't want me!”

He looked at him and away. “Go to bed,” he said, his voice hard.

Cory swore. “If you want that more than me,” he hissed as he walked past him, “then have a good time.”

Gian took a breath. Then he heard Andy say, “I'm waiting.”

“I'm coming,” he replied and picked up the club off the floor.

* * * *

Cory did something he hadn't done in a long time, he cried bitter tears when he got into bed. Not only did Gian not want him, he preferred a smelly, stinky, fat man to him. Although the other night he could have sworn that he was turned off by the sight of Andy naked. How could he want him? He didn't understand.

* * * *

Gian went home after his shift and slept the entire day away. He felt like shit when he woke up. He stopped by the station and told Clint that he was recording conversations at the institution. He gave him the first tape.

“How are you getting away with it?” Clint asked. “Be careful, Gian. Falcon is dangerous. If he caught on, he would—”

Gian cut him off. “I can't do this forever and I can't wait for the D.A. to take their thumb out of their ass.”

“Have you had to do things that are difficult for you, Gian?”

“Damn right, more than just difficult, disgusting is more like it and I have a boy with hurt feelings on top of that.”

“Who?”

“Cory. The one I've tried to get to talk to me. He won't, and worse he seems to have developed this crush on me. I can't return his affections even if I wanted to. He thinks I don't like him.”

“And, do you want to?” Clint's eyes widened. “How old is he?”

“Clint, relax, number one he is almost nineteen and I said, even if I wanted to, not that I wanted to. If circumstances were different and...” he trailed off, “never mind. Anyway, I have it under control.”

“I hope so,” Clint replied.

“How's Daniel?” Gian enquired.

“He's in a group home and doing all right, but he has nightmares.”

“I'll go by and see him tomorrow after I leave work.”

“He'll like that.” Clint looked at him. “Gian, the commissioner says this case is taking too long. He wants to pull you off and I'm fighting him on this.”

“Damn it, Clint. I want to end it now, too, but the D.A. wants more hard evidence. If Commissioner Howard pulls me out, it's over. The D.A. wants to make it stick and I understand that. But no one will help me. They block me at every turn. What do they expect me to do, invent proof?”

“They're afraid when they drag their asses into court that they'll get off because the defence will cry entrapment. If that room is bugged by the NYPD, it could look like a set up.”

“Stupid,” Gian sneered. “Guilt is guilt. How can they be set up for being creeps? I have a solution. I could beat the crap out of them.”

Clint patted his arm. “I know how frustrating this job gets, Gian. Be careful, son.”

Gian nodded. “I will.”

“If you get Cory and some of the older boys to come forward, along with the tapes, I think the D.A. would go for it.”

“Easier said than done, now that I've pissed Cory off.”

“Well, he has a crush on you, use it. Charm him. You've got more than your share of that.”

“Clint, he wants sex,” Gian said. “I can't do sex. So what do you suggest, I have simulated sex with him?”

“Sweet talk him.”

Gian shook his head. “I can tell you're not gay, Clint.” Gian laughed, “and not eighteen years old either. Talk is the last thing he wants from me, sweet or otherwise.”

Clint smiled at him. “Might be surprised. Maybe he needs a friend.”

Gian grinned. “Right,” he said, not buying it. He raised a hand and left the office.

When Gian arrived at Beaconsfield that night, Ace was acting out. Tim had him on the floor with his arm behind his back, whispering in his ear.

“Leave me alone,” Ace yelped, “son of a bitch.”

“Problems?” Gian asked, coming over to where they were on the floor.

Cory and Frank stood close by, looking pensive.

“He's being a little shit and I'm going to break his arm if he doesn't smarten up!” Tim growled.

Gian took Tim's arm and pulled him up to his feet. “Let me try.” He leaned down and extended his hand to Ace. “Get up.”

Ace gave him a hesitant look, then reached out for his hand. His face was wet with tears. He wiped them away, embarrassed.

“What's going on?” Gian asked him.

“I don't know. Nothing,” he said. “I don't feel so hot, that's all.”

“It's a bunch of crap,” Tim spat. “Just trying to fuck with my head.”

Ace glared at him. “Son of a bitch. I hate you.”

Tim took a step toward him, but Gian placed a hand on his chest, preventing him. “I'll take him to sickbay.”

Cory looked at Frank. “Wow, he took care of that fast,” Cory whispered as Gian took Ace's arm and steered him out of the recreation room.

“He's just blowing you, Franca,” Tim called after him.

But they were gone.

* * * *

“Okay,” Tim looked at Cory and Frank. “Stop standing around. Go and do something like homework.”

Just then Andy came in. “Where's Gian? I need to talk to him.”

“He's taking Ace to sickbay,” Tim complained. “Ace is just bullshitting him. That Gian is gullible. He lets these kids pull him around by the prick.”

“He's not gullible,” Cory protested. “He's compassionate, something you wouldn't know anything about, Tim.”

Tim sneered. “Keep out of it, you little shit. Then he mocked, “He's not gullible, he's just compassionate.” He stuck his finger in his mouth. “Why don't you say it again and make me vomit.”

Andy looked concerned.

Just then Gian walked back in.

Tim glared at him. “I was handling things all right,” he whined. “Why don't you mind your business?”

Gian ignored him.

“I don't think you need to drag these kids to sickbay all the time, Gian,” Andy chastised him. “They are rarely sick, just faking.”

“Okay,” Gian replied. “If you want to take the chance that the kid is really sick and doesn't get medical attention, then fine. But I'm glad you're the head guard and not me. I'd hate to have to answer a lot questions if the kid croaks on you. Want me to go and get him?”

Andy hesitated and then shook his head. “Leave him there.”

Tim groaned. “Andy!”

“Look, I'm the boss. I have to take responsibility for all this shit.” He stopped and then looked at Cory and Frank. “What are you two still doing here? Go do something.”

They both scrambled out of the room.

Cory sat in the library beside Frank, looking through a travel book. “I want to go to Europe one day.”

“That would be fun. Maybe we could go together. Do backpacking and shit.”

“Yeah,” Cory said.

Tony came in now, looking bored. “Where's Ace?”

“Sickbay. You missed a good one,” Frank said and began to explain what had happened.

“Cory said that to Tim?” Tony squealed, referring to Cory's comment about Gian being compassionate.

“He's nuts about him,” Frank teased.

“Am not,” Cory protested, looking down.

“Are, too. I bet you write all about him in your diary.”

“I write everything in that book.”

“Where do you hide it?” Tony asked, giggling.

“Never mind.”

* * * *

Gian happened to be going past the library and he overheard the conversation. A diary. Cory kept a diary. He wondered how long he had been writing in it and if he made reference to that room downstairs. That could be an excellent source of evidence to add to the case he was building.

He had called Mason and asked to meet with him in the morning. He had come up with something he felt that the D.A. couldn't find any problem with. He just had to convince Mason to do it and do it right away.

He walked into the library now and told the boys it was time to get ready for bed. He felt Cory's gaze on, him but he avoided looking at him.

Tony and Frank groaned a bit and then filed out.

Cory let the others go on ahead. He stopped and looked at Gian for a moment, then asked, “Why don't you like me?”

Gian glanced at him. “Where did you get the impression that I don't like you?”

“You don't even like looking at me.”

“That's untrue.” Gian shook his head.

“No, lately you look directly at the other boys, but not at me. I make you uncomfortable.”

“Come on, Cory. This conversation is a waste of time. I like you. Id like to be your friend if you'd let me, but you don't trust me.”

“I'd like to be more then your friend if you'd let me,” he threw back at him. “I'm eighteen and a half. In six months, I'll be nineteen for Christ's sakes if that's the problem.”

Gian met his eyes. “I won't be here in six months, Cory, and neither will you. Now go on and get ready for bed. It's getting late.”

“Why bother, I'm only going to get pulled out anyway. And what do you mean you won't be here in six months. Where you going?”

“I don't know for sure, but I might move on to another job or something. Now go on, I'll be up to check on you later.”

Cory sighed and left the library.

Gian went up to the third floor. He waited until Cory was down the hall and then into his room. He started searching for that diary. It was not in the drawer, not in the closet. Finally, he got the idea to look under the mattress and there it was a thick red book. Gian took it out, flipped through it rapidly. It was full of writing. Some of the dates were that of three years back. Perfect. He couldn't take it now, Cory might miss it. He'd wait until tomorrow morning when Cory was in class then he'd copy it and put it back before it was missed.

He lifted the mattress and slid it back in place. Cory came in soon after in his pyjamas.

He seemed surprised to see him standing in the middle of his room. “Come to kiss me goodnight?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Gian replied. “Just a room check.”

“Ah.”

“What is up tonight anyway?” Gian asked him.

“You'd know better then me, they're your buddies.”

“They're not my.... “Gian began, “doesn't matter.” He waved that away. “I just wondered if anyone was coming in tonight.”

“Not that I know. There's been a lot less of that since you've come. They must be distracted,” he ran his gaze over him meaningfully. “Can't say I blame them. I'm sure it will just be the jolly old crowd of three, four now, sorry.”

There was a bitter edge to his voice. “Don't you want it to stop?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe I like it,” Cory replied, meeting his eyes defiantly.

“That's bullshit,” Gian told him.

“I get off sometime, so what's that?”

“That's just involuntary bodily reaction. That's not because you like it. You are not sexually attracted to any of those guys.”

“I'm sexually attracted to you, but you like big fat slobs,” Cory threw at him. “And maybe little boys.”

Gian sighed. “You really are pissing me off.”

“What do you want me to think?” Cory balled his hand into a fist. “You say go tell people what's happening here, but why in hell don't you tell someone? Sometimes you seem to approve and other times, it's like you want to kill those guys. Which is it? You get off, but you feel guilty after? Is that it?”

“Something like that,” Gian lied. “Go to bed.”

“Are you going to be with them tonight?”

“I don't know,” he answered.

Cory crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his head. “I'm a slut. Don't try saving me. I don't need a hero. If you had a brain, you'd take what I offered.”

Gian had no way of responding to that. He left the room.

Gian went downstairs at around eleven o'clock. He kept Andy talking about all his plans for pornography. All the while, he taped their conversation. Then he got in a heated discussion with Tim about how he had pushed his weight around earlier.

Pug was drinking and in a foul mood. “I'm going to get Cory, he can make me feel better. I hate this job, this life. Damn.” He stood.

“I can make you feel better,” Gian told him, meeting his eyes. There was no way he was bringing Cory down here tonight, not in this mood.

He looked surprised. “I don't think so. I want someone I can take my frustrations out on. You're too big,” he laughed.

“Not man enough?” Gian challenged him.

Andy took an interest now in the conversation.

Pug didn't answer.

“The man asked you a question, Paul,” Andy slapped himself into a chair.

“The question is, are you man enough, Franca?” Pug stood.

Gian walked over to him. “Try me. I've got a few frustrations of my own that might require some venting.”

“Well then come on, baby,” he yelled, grabbing his shirt collar.

* * * *

Cory woke up at around three in the morning and looked at his alarm. No one had come to get him and by this time, he felt pretty safe. He sighed with contentment and went back to sleep.

* * * *

When Gian walked into Mason's office at a little after eleven, his eyes widened. “What in the hell happened to you?”

He had a black eye and a swollen lip. “You should see the other guy. I think you are going to have to call in a replacement tonight.”

“My God,” he whispered. “What can I do for you, besides get you a hospital bed?”

Gian laughed weakly, causing his mouth to sting. “I'll live. I've been worse. Look, I need you to install cameras here.”

“Cameras?”

“Yes, hidden cameras. I want you to draw up an initiative and date it two months ago. In this report, you state your intention of installing hidden cameras to increase security.”

“But you want me to lie?”

“Yes. I want you to lie.” Gian sat, wincing. He didn't even want to think about last night.

“We don't have the budget for—”

“Listen, I want you to call someone today and have a camera installed in that room the guards use down in the basement. You can put the others in or not, I don't care. If anything is said, your response is that you were doing it bit by bit so as not to blow your budget. This is between you and me for now.”

“And why I am doing this?” he asked.

“Because I can get what I need on tape and the lawyers for the defence can't claim the guys were set up. You didn't install the cameras for the purpose of catching them doing anything. It was done for security. You understand?”

“I do but I—”

Gian stood. “Listen to me, Mason. You are the fucking director here. You run this hellhole. Anything that happens here is your god damned responsibility. This is a small price to pay. If you don't do this, I swear to God, when this is all over, you are going down, along with the other snakes.”

Mason saw the flash of anger in those eyes. This was a guy you didn't want as an enemy. He meant it. He nodded. “All right. I'll call right now.”

“I'll wait for him, so I can tell him where I want it,” Gian said. “Oh and I need to use your copy machine.”

“No problem,” Mason said.

* * * *

He went up the stairs to the third floor and walked into Cory's room. The diary was there, right where he had last seen it. He took it and went back down stairs. He copied every single page, slipped it inside his jacket and went back up to the room. He replaced it and came back downstairs again quickly.

The alarm guy was there waiting for him in front of Mason's office. Gian led him downstairs to the room and showed him exactly where he wanted him to put the camera.

Then he went home and lay on the sofa. He was sore and exhausted, but satisfied that the camera had been a good idea. He took out the photocopied pages of Cory's diary and began to read.

* * * *

Ms. Anderson liked his essay on love. She wanted him to read it aloud, but he didn't want to. “Do you mind if I read it?” she asked.

Cory shrugged. “If you want to.”

“Romantic love is just like any kind of love, but there's more to it. I think all love means wanting to be around that person, share good times and bad. You would trust that person will all your heart and want to sacrifice for them. That person would always want to make you happy and never hurt you. They would forgive you for anything. Romantic love is the same except that whenever you see the person, your heart skips a beat. You feel dizzy and weak and you want to touch that person. You dream about them and, when they don't feel the same, it hurts a lot.”

Frank jumped out of his seat and said, “I know who Cory loves, Miss. I know who he's talking about.”

“Shut up,” Cory threatened, “or I'll plug you one.”

“Enough. Frank, sit down.”

“Cory loves Gian Franca and he wants to sleep with him.”

Cory got up and went to sock Frank, which caused the teacher to call for security as they rolled around on the floor.

Ronald Collins came immediately and put both Cory and Frank in solitary to think about what they had done.

* * * *

Gian fell asleep reading the diary. He read about nights of torture and agony and Andy Falcon was mentioned everywhere. Tim and Pug too were mentioned, as well as clients with weird tastes and brutal natures. There were other kids talked about, kids that had left the institution. He had just got to the part where he was mentioned, but he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He fell asleep.

Later that afternoon, he made coffee and picked up the diary again. Cory referred to him as the new guy, and as he read the passages while trying to drink his coffee, he felt a little guilty. This was private and it was about him. But it had to be read before he could decide if it would constitute worthwhile evidence.

The descriptions of him were graphic. Apparently he was the topic of conversation among the boys. Cory got into describing him in detail and he wasn't shy about his choice of words.

As the days went by, Cory wrote more and more about him. He spent two pages describing the way he smiled, an entire page on his voice. He couldn't help but be touched. At one point, Cory wrote, “I could very well be in love with this guy if he'd give me the time of day. I literally tingle all over when he's near. There is like this sexual energy that comes from him, maybe it's in those beautiful brown eyes of his. I swear I've never felt like this before. If he touched me, I'd be on my knees in a second.”

There were pages also where Cory cursed his name in every sentence. “He'd rather shove a bat up a fat guy than even touch me. I don't understand it! Am I that repulsive? I can't be as repulsive as that fat bastard, Falcon!”

He wrote further on, “I don't know if he saved Daniel or used him for his own pleasure. I don't know anything anymore, except God help me, I'm addicted. Instead of dying of torture and abuse in this place, I might just die of heartbreak.”

Gian put down the pages and sighed. He felt like shit, from his violent encounter with Pug last night as well as from reading Cory's most intimate thoughts. His intention was not to torment some poor kid, but apparently he was doing just that.

Last night he had gotten into it with Pug. Andy had set it up. They would see who would cry chicken first, giving each other abuse until one of them gave up. He completely lost it, getting caught up in the sex and the violence. Pug finally eventually gave in, covered in blood. He could hardly stand up. He put up his hand like a white flag at one point and then lost consciousness on the floor. Andy declared Gian the winner, but he didn't feel like a winner. He felt like hell. He was sore all over and bleeding himself. But damn, there was a part of him that enjoyed giving that much pain to Pug.

He took a shower and went to Beaconsfield. He was stiff and sore all over. Andy met him in the hall. “We're a man short tonight,” he told him. “Keep your eyes open. Wow, aren't we cute,” he laughed. “By the way, you were great last night. What a turn on, so masculine and strong. Bet Pug won't challenge you again.”

Gian watched him leave. He had won points with Andy that was sure. He walked into the recreation room and three of the boys looked up at him, shocked at what they saw.

Then Cory came in. He looked at him and then let out a gasp. “Holy shit, what happened to you?”

“Fooling around,” he said.

“Um ... what's the other guy look like?” Cory asked.

“He's taking a sick day.”

Cory grinned. “My hero. Who was it?”

“Never mind.”

“We'll know anyway,” Frank came over, “who ever doesn't show up was the one.”

“It was Pug,” Gian said, “now go back to what you were doing.”

There was a round of applause.

Cory still looked concerned. “Why didn't anyone come for me last night?”

“They were otherwise entertained,” he replied and walked away.

Cory looked at Frank, his eyes misting over, “He did that for me.”

“What? Get real,” Frank laughed.

“No. Pug must have been in his mean mood. He always comes after me when he gets that way. He didn't come for me last night.”

“Believe what you want, honey,” Frank shook his head. “It's your fantasy.”

“No, it's not a fantasy, Frank. I know what he did. He took on Pug, so that he wouldn't take it out on me. What I don't understand is why did he do it.” Before Frank could say anything else, Cory left the recreation room and went down the hallway looking for Gian. He found him finally in the little room the guards used to store their equipment.

Gian was just locking it when Cory approached him.

Cory turned him around and took his arm. “Come with me,” he said.

Gian narrowed his eyes. “What? Where?”

Cory led him to the infirmary. “Open the door. I'm going to put something on that lip. It could get infected.”

“Its fine,” Gian protested, but Cory insisted he open the door. Gian complied and Cory led him inside.

“Sit,” he said.

Gian hid a smile. “Yes, boss.”

“Don't get smart,” Cory told him, searching in the medicine cabinet. He took out alcohol, cotton and ointment. He came close to him and soaked the cotton in alcohol. “Now this is going to sting.”

He pressed the wet cotton to Gian's lip and he recoiled with a low hissing sound. “Damn, that hurt,” he said.

“Big baby. Of course it hurts, stupid,” Cory shook his head.

Gian again hid a smile. He raised an eyebrow. “Now, what are you planning to do to me?”

“Not finished yet. I have to clean it,” he insisted, wiping the cotton over it again.

Gian winced. Ouch,” he said. “I think it was better when it was infected. It hurt less.”

“Shut up,” he said. Then he looked at his eye. “Damn, he gave you one hell of a black eye. May I ask why?”

“No, you may not,” Gian replied.

“Ice pack, we need an ice pack. It's really swollen.” He went over to the fridge and pulled out a soft ice pack.

He came back and pressed it against his eye. Gian groaned. “Damn, you are rough.”

“I'm not rough,” Cory laughed. “You know for a big guy, you'd swear you were about five years old. Now, hold that on your eye. While you hold it there, you're going to tell me why you did that for me last night.”

“Did what for you?” He put down the pack.

Cory picked it up and put it back again. “You know what. You took on Pug so he wouldn't beat me up. Why?”

“I didn't do it for you,” Gian told him. “We were having fun.”

“Some fun,” Cory scoffed.

“It was ... for awhile,” Gian grinned.

Cory shook his head. “Were you the type of boy who was always getting into fights as a kid?”

“Actually, yes,” he replied, which was true, but there was a reason for that. And although he didn't like discussing it, he thought it might be the time to tell him why he got into fights.

Cory met his eyes. “Why?”

“Because my uncle was molesting me,” he replied. It was still hard to say.

“How come?”

“My parents died in a car accident when I was ten and he took me in. It started when I was eleven. I never told anyone. I just acted out, got into fights, stole things and took drugs.”

“So,” Cory asked hesitantly, “how did it stop?”

“I finally got arrested by someone who cared and I told him to lock me up. He wanted to know why I didn't want to go home and I told him.”

“What happened then?”

“He adopted me.”

Cory's eyes widened. “Really? What about your uncle?”

“I never saw him again. Didn't want to either.”

“But now, you don't feel ... I mean, are you over it?”

“After some counselling, yes. It took time.”

Cory reached over and caressed his hair. “Did he hurt you?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Were there times you ... well you enjoyed it?” Cory looked away.

“Many times. I thought it was me, my fault, but it wasn't. It never was.”

“I feel like that sometimes, like ... I want it, but I don't want it to be like that or with them. Do you know what I mean?” He moved his hand away from his hair.

Gian got up out of the chair. “I know what you mean. If you told someone, then maybe ... I mean, it would stop, not only for you, but for all the other boys in here. Can you just walk away when your time is done and not think about the ones who will come after you? The Daniels ... and the Tony's and—”

“Stop!” Cory snapped. “I'm not responsible for the whole damn world. All my life I've been used. No one has ever done anything for me. I don't owe anyone anything.”

“I didn't say you did,” Gian replied.

“Anyway, sit. I'm not finished with you.”

Gian sat again. Cory began to put some of the ointment on his lip. “You are supposed to apply the ice often you know.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Cory grinned. Then he said, “Oh, by the way, thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, raising that eyebrow of his.

“For letting me sleep last night.”

Gian met his eyes. “Did you have sweet dreams?”

“Yes,” he replied, moving away from him. “I was dreaming about you.”

Gian remembered what he had written in his diary. When I'm close to him I feel weak. I actually tremble. Gian got up and crossed the room. It was better to avoid being alone with him, not get too close. “Let's go. It's almost bed time.”

Cory went out into the hallway and watched as Gian locked the door.

They walked together down the hall without a word, then Cory went to his room to get ready for bed.

Gian met Ace in the hallway soon after. He gave him a shy smile and continued walking. He knew what the smile was for.

Tim was still angry at him for hauling Ace off to sickbay. When he walked by him, he heard him say, “Asshole,” under his breath.

He was preoccupied with his own thoughts tonight. He knew that anytime the commissioner might decide to pull him out, decide it wasn't worth the department's resources. If they did, it would be all over.

He also knew that he was going to have to push the limit, but it was hard. He knew of cases where undercover officers were asked to kill someone or stand by and watch while someone was killed. It wasn't easy. When you became a cop, you swore to serve and protect. In all good conscience, he couldn't have sex with minors to provide evidence and yet he couldn't fake everything because Andy was not a fool. This job required you to do things at times which were unpleasant and even illegal, but you were always walking a tightrope. You could leave yourself open for prosecution, too. Sometimes it was hard to claim you had no choice in the matter and, unless you could prove you had to break the law in the name of justice, internal Affairs would hang you out to dry.

The camera was a good idea, but he had no idea if it would hold up in court. He knew he had stepped in too many times to protect the boys. He was only prolonging the inevitable. He had to get something on camera that he could convince the D.A. to take to the jury. The audio tapes he was making were good, but not enough.

He needed another week at least. Everyday he expected to hear a message on his answering machine requesting that he come in to the precinct. It hadn't happened yet, but he knew it was coming.

Andy was standing next to him now, watching the boys streaming down the hall from the bathrooms. “Stop stalling, get moving,” Andy barked.

He was checking out the boys. “There's a new kid just come in,” Andy said close to his ear. “He's twelve, a blushing little virgin. Check it out,” he said as a sweet cherub-like blond kid walked past. “I'm putting him in with Cory. Tonight we'll bring him down for initiation.”

Gian clamped his teeth together.

“Hey, Cory, come here,” Andy motioned to him as he came out of his room.

He steered him around the corner.

Gian stood perfectly straight, thinking of that new little boy. He made his hands into fists and then crossed his arms to keep himself in one place. How he wanted to knock him into next week, the big ugly pig.

Sometime later, Gian was beginning to wonder where Cory was. He wasn't in his room. He met Tim in the hallway and asked him.

“Probably downstairs,” he gave him a heated look. “I'm not his keeper. Andy is probably fucking him upside down and sideways. I've got to get the new kid,” he said, pushing by him.

Tense, Gian finished off his bed checks, turning out the lights. He saw Tim with the new boy. He was dragging him off down the hall. Tonight could be the night he got everything he wanted on that camera, but damn, he couldn't stand by and watch them hurt that little boy. He was going to have to be there.

When the quiet came, Gian made his way downstairs again. He knew that Cory and Ace were missing, as well as that little boy. The door was locked when he arrived so he banged hard on it. If Andy hadn't of answered it, he would have knocked it down, case or no case. Andy was completely naked and when Gian stepped inside that room, he was relieved to see the little boy sitting in a chair eating candy. “Who is he?” Gian asked Andy, wondering where the other two boys were, probably in the other room.

“His name is Samuel. Isn't he a doll?” Andy asked, reaching out his hand to take his. “I was just about to introduce Samuel to a new toy. “You can play with it. It will get hard and be really funny,” he said to the child.

Gian tightened his fists at his sides. He was filled with rage and he had no idea how he was going to control it.

“Let Uncle Andy help you take off your clothes so you are not so hot. Doesn't he look hot, Gian?”

Gian cleared his throat. “Why don't you let him eat his candy?”

“I'm not hot.” Samuel said.

Andy laughed. “I have other candy for him.”

“I have candy for you, too,” Gian said, trying to keep his voice light and pleasant. “Let's lose the kid and—”

“Will you use the bat on me tonight? No grease, just straight, impale me, baby, but take off those clothes.”

“Where are Cory and Ace?” Gian asked him, his gaze on that little boy. If that bastard laid one hand on that kid, it was over. He'd kill him himself.

“With Tim.”

The camera was working and he knew he was going to have to play this very carefully. If he wanted this on camera, he would have to let it play out. But he couldn't. He couldn't let Andy touch that kid.

Gian walked into the other room. Cory and Ace were tied down to tables. Tim was taunting both of them. Tension was tying his shoulders into knots.

Tim noticed him now. He turned around, half-naked and grinned at him. “What about you? Want some of this?”

“I don't like an audience.”

Tim came over and took Gian's hand. He placed it on his erection. Gian withdrew it immediately.

Tim went to Cory. “See how horny he is. Reach under and feel his prick. Its hard as rock. This one likes it a lot.” He motioned to Gian. “Why don't you come over here and give it to him? He's raw and ready. I've done it twice already.”

“I think maybe he's had enough now,” Gian hissed through his teeth.

“No, I'm going to fuck him until he bleeds.

Gian reached out and grabbed Tim around the neck. He squeezed.

Cory's eyes widened.

“How would you like someone to fuck you until you bleed, you fucking piece of shit?” He reached over and ripped the big hoop off his ear. Gian released him. Blood gushed everywhere.

“You bastard,” he screamed.

Cory reached down to untie his legs.

Tim made a lunge for Gian now and Gian hit him hard in the face, knocking him down. Then he kicked him right under the chin. Blood and teeth flew. Tim was out cold. Gian looked at Cory. “Go upstairs to your room and stay there.”

Cory stiffened. “What about you?”

The door burst open and Andy barrelled in. “What in fuck is going on in here?”

“It's over Andy,” Gian said, “and if this fucking case doesn't stick, I'm going to kill you myself.”

“What...” he looked over at Tim on the floor as Cory and Ace backed into a corner.

Gian reached down and slid a gun out of his leg holster. He pointed at Andy's forehead. “Where's that kid?”

“Samuel,” he called. The little boy ran into the room.

Gian reached out and grabbed him. He put him behind him. “You're under arrest for being a fucking god damned piece of garbage,” he threw at him. He was so angry, he was sure he was going lose it. “You have a right to remain silent and a right to an attorney and all that shit. Make a move. Give me an excuse and I'll blow your head off.”

Andy laughed faintly. “A guard who thinks he's a cop.”

Cory looked at Ace, who stood in shock.

“Cop,” Cory mouthed.

Gian reached for his cell phone and pressed the speed dial, holding his gun directly on Andy. He waited for someone to answer. “Yeah, this is Davinci. Get two squad cars here at Beaconsfield, protective services and an evidence team and you better bring something to fumigate your squad cars because you're going to be putting garbage into it. Oh yeah, call Mason, there will be people wanting to talk to him.” He was about to hang up when he glanced over at an unconscious Tim, “Almost forgot, better bring an ambulance. Although it will be no loss to the world if he doesn't make it, I think one of the excrement fell down and hurt itself.”

Cory and Ace hugged together in the corner.

“So you're a cop,” Andy laughed.

The little boy was shivering beside him. Gian took off his shirt and wrapped him in it, then picked him up in his arms, sitting him on his hip. The gun never strayed from its target.

“But you enjoyed our little sex sessions, didn't you honey?” Andy ran his hands over himself and licked his lips. “How are you going to explain that to the judge?”

“I'm going to tell you something, Andy, and this is the God's truth. I've had to do a lot of disgusting things undercover, but coming within fifty feet of you has to be the most revolting thing I've ever done. Every time I touched you, I went home and scrubbed myself raw.”

Andy's smile disappeared.

Cory clapped his hands.

Andy took a step. “You little...”

Gian moved forward and positioned the gun directly under Andy's fat neck. “Like I said, just give me a reason, please, please. I'm desperate to pull the trigger.”

Cory came forward now, glaring at Andy. “I hate your guts. I hated you touching me, looking at me, using me. You are a bastard and I hope wherever you go, you rot.”

“Oh, he will,” Gian grinned at Andy Falcon. “And on top of that, when the inmates find out that he's a child molester, well ... they will be inserting objects into him that will make a billy club feel like a popsicle stick.”

Ace went up to spit on Andy. “I'd like to watch, hear your scream, you fat ugly bastard.” He started to cry.

Suddenly they could hear sirens in the distance, “Well, Gian smiled, “looks like my friends are here.”

“I'll meet up with you one day, sweetheart,” Andy threatened, “and I'll show you what pain is all about.”

“I don't think so,” Gian replied. “I don't spend much time at the Pen, but if the day ever comes, I say, bring it on.”

They heard footsteps running down the hall now. The door burst open. There were three uniformed officers, two ambulance technicians, and several plainclothes officers.

“Hey,” Denardo held up a hand to Gian as two uniformed officers slapped the cuffs on Andy. “Are you all right, man?”

Gian nodded.

“Disgusting tub of lard, aren't ya?” Denardo looked at Andy. “Cover him up, will you? I just ate.”

Sandra looked down at Samuel. “Hi, there.”

“Hi,” he said.

“He's okay.” Gian replied, handing her the little boy.

“I'll take him up to child services. They are talking to the other boys,” Sandra said, looking around.

“The camera is there,” Gian pointed to the top of a shelf.

“All right. The evidence team is upstairs.”

Gian looked over to see that an ambulance technician had given Cory and Ace blankets and asking them if they were all right. “Give me a minute with those two,” he said. “I'll bring them upstairs.”

She nodded as the medics took Tim out on a stretcher.

“Is he dead?” Gian called out.

“He'll make it,” one guy called back.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Gian replied.

* * * *

Cory wrapped the blanket tighter around him. He hadn't taken his gaze off Gian. It all made sense now, everything. Gian was standing in the middle of that dank room, looking at all the discarded contraptions on the tables. He still held the gun in his hand and Cory noticed he was gripping it so tight his knuckles were white. Cory walked over to him and reached for his hand. He touched it gently. “It's okay now, Gian,” he said softly.

Gian looked down at the gun. Slowly he released the pressure on it.

“It's finally over,” Ace came to join them.

“Are you all right?” Gian asked.

Ace nodded.

“Yes, now I am. Looking at you makes everything all right.”

Gian turned away for a minute. Then he reached for one of the vibrators lying on the tables that was still buzzing and hurled it across the room. It crashed to the floor, permanently silenced.

“The evidence team is on the way down,” Gian said, taking a step back from Cory.

Cory studied his face. “Davinci. I like that. It suits you more than Franca.”

Gian tried to smile.

Ace cleared his throat. “I'll, ah ... wait in the hall.”

“So,” Cory said after Ace had left the room, “what kind of a cop are you and don't say, a good one, because I already know that.”

“A very good one?” he offered with a little grin.

They laughed a little, “So you don't have shitty taste in men after all?”

“Well, maybe I do have shitty taste, but not quite that shitty.”

Cory smiled. “So the reason you wouldn't touch me was because you were on the job, not because you didn't like me, right?”

“Cory...” Gian began. “Maybe we shouldn't—”

“You're standing two miles away from me,” Cory commented. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Maybe its not you I'm afraid of.”

Cory caught his breath. “I'm trying not to cry.”

He nodded.

“Everything makes sense now. Everything you did was to protect us and you did take Pug on because of me, didn't you?”

“Yes, but in all honestly, I enjoyed beating the crap out of him immensely so it had fringe benefits.”

“You did say you were the little boy who was always getting into fights.”

“That was me.”

“Am I going to see you again?”

“You'll see me during the trial and—”

“That's not what I mean,” Cory said, meeting his eyes. He reached out and touched his eye. “Swelling is down.”

“You're a good doctor.”

Cory's hand was trembling. Gian reached up and captured it in his own. He held it for a minute and then released it. “We should go on up now.” He looked away.

“If I said I was falling in love with you, you'd just laugh right?”

Gian looked at him again. “No, I wouldn't laugh, Cory. I'd be flattered but—”

“There's that but again,” Cory sighed. “It's because I was in here right? I'm old enough so it's not that. You can't be that much older than me. How old are you, anyway, officer?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Four years.” There was a pause, then Cory said, “Am I your type?”

“You'd be anyone's type,” Gian told him, smiling.

There were footsteps now coming down the hall.

“One night,” Cory whispered, leaning close to him, his mouth against his cheek. “One night is all I ask. There are so many things I want to do with you,” he moaned softly. “Think about it?”

* * * *

Gian moved away quickly now as police officers came in with their boxes of forensic equipment. He sucked in some air as he watched Cory walk out into the hall and join Ace. A few seconds later, he followed them upstairs.

* * * *

Cory sat upstairs in the cafeteria with the other boys. Little Sam sat with a young woman who said her name was April. She played cards with him. He seemed completely immune from what was going on around him. Gian had spared him from all this shit.

Frank and Tony were asking Cory and Ace all kinds of questions. Frank was bragging that he knew Gian was a cop all along.

“You did not,” Cory challenged. “You had no idea. None of us did.”

“I did know,” Frank countered.

“Then why didn't you say anything?” Tony baited.

“I was trying to protect him. He told me in confidence.”

“What a liar,” Cory scoffed. “He didn't tell you shit.”

“What's his real name then?” Ace asked Frank.

“Ah ... he told me, but I can't say. Could screw up stuff.”

“Say his first name,” Cory coaxed.

“Can't. It's a real nice name, too,” he cooed. “Told it to me when he was kissing me goodnight one night.”

Cory's eyes widened with anger. “Stop saying that shit. You could get him into trouble. He didn't lay a hand on any of us. And Gian is his real name, so there.”

Just then Bobby Denardo came into the room. He looked over at the female officer who sat at one of the tables, writing some stuff. “Where is Gian?” he asked.

“Downstairs with the evidence team. Why?”

Gian walked in now. “I'm here. What's up?”

“Good, here,” Denardo told him, tossing him a gold badge on a rope. “Decoteau made a run for it.”

Gian met Bobby's eyes. “Well, let's go and get the son of a bitch,” he said.

Sandra Aston closed her book. “Hey,” she said, “if you guys think you're going off by yourselves and having all the fun, forget it.”

Gian laughed and put a hand on her shoulder. “Girls just got to have fun.”

She took her gun out of its holster and held it in the air. “You said it, babe,” she winked at him and then the three of them disappeared out the door.

Cory watched them as they walked across the parking lot. Gian was way out in front, the other two running to catch up. There was a police car there, its lights flashing. Gian said something to the officer and the young rookie tossed him the keys.

Cory just knew that Gian would get in the driver's seat and sure enough, he opened the door and climbed in. Denardo got in the back and the woman climbed in beside Gian.

He sounded the sirens and roared out of the parking lot on two wheels. “Get him,” Cory urged, under his breath. “Get that prick.” He went back and sat. He noticed that all but Frank, Tony, Ace and himself had left the room. Two officers came over to sit near them along with several people in civilian dress.

“My name is Officer Harris,” one of them said. “We need to ask you a few questions. It won't take long. We are also here to answer any questions you may have.”

“Will we get to stay here?” Tony asked.

“Yes. For now. There will be police officers acting as guards temporarily until other guards can be hired.” Harris said.

“Will we have to testify?” Cory asked.

Harris nodded. “Yes. We are especially interested in your testimony, Cory, since you aren't a minor. You will all be asked to give statements, but not tonight. It's too late. Tomorrow, someone will come and get you and bring you down to the police station.”

“Will we have to stay there long?” Frank asked.

“No. A few hours,” Harris replied. “There will be social workers that will also be on hand to help you understand everything, okay?”

They all nodded.

“Will I see Gian ... Officer Davinci tomorrow?” Cory asked.

“Ya, he's in love with him,” Frank giggled.

Cory shot Frank a dirty look.

Harris smiled. “I don't know. He is the arresting officer, so you will probably see him soon.”

Cory nodded.

“Now, the excitement is over for the night. You will see a lot of police around, but don't let that worry you,” one of the social workers said. “I think you can all go to bed.”

The boys got up, not unhappy about going to bed. They were all exhausted.

When Cory got into bed, his mind turned to Gian. He saw him in that basement when he had suddenly become a cop and he saw him outside driving away in that squad car. He was like a different person yet, he was the same.

He felt free suddenly. He knew tonight no one would come and drag him out of bed. He wept with gratitude. He wished he'd been stronger. He could have helped Gian a lot more than he did. He wished he'd been able to tell someone about what had been going on in here long ago. He'd been scared. Suddenly, he didn't feel fear anymore.

He knew that he should stop dreaming about him, especially now that he knew he was a cop. Gian was out of his league. He probably already had a boyfriend or two or three. Maybe he wasn't even gay. He never did say. Maybe that was just an act as well. Anyway, it didn't matter what he was, Gian was not going to be truly interested in him, a former street whore, and a loser.

* * * *

It was almost five in the morning before they had tracked down Paul Decoteau. He was coming out of a blind pig, drunk as a skunk. Gian got out of the squad car, Sandra and Bobby at his heels. They both knew their friend had to finish this. All they could do was back him up. It had become personal.

“Hello, Pug,” Gian said, as he walked around into the alley where he was taking a piss.

“Jesus,” Sandra said, when she saw his face, “what in the hell happened to him?”

“I beat the crap out of him,” Gian said. “Want to see me do it again?”

Pug was struggling to do up his pants. “Hey,” he slurred, “don't you come near me with my pants all undone and everything.”

Gian walked over to him. “Don't worry, it doesn't do a thing for me. So you want to come peacefully, or what?”

“Or what!” he sneered and began to run.

Gian gave chase. He grabbed Pug by the back of the collar just as he was rounding the corner.

Bobby and Sandra waited in the distance.

Decoteau took a swing at him and missed.

Gian swung back and knocked him to the pavement. He moaned a little as Gian slapped the cuffs on him and dragged him to his feet.

“You got a mean right hook there,” Bobby told him on the way back to the car, watching carefully.

Gian paused and looked at him. “Don't worry, I won't do what I really want to do to this prick because he's not worth rotting in the joint for.”

Bobby nodded. “Good man.”

“It doesn't mean I can't fantasize about it.”

Sandra grabbed Paul and pulled him over to the car. “Fantasize away, honey,” she told him. “Kick his ass. Okay,” she said, “assume the position.” She frisked him and began reading his rights.

“Do that again,” he slurred.

“One shot deal,” she muttered, pushing him in the car, “and the only action you're going to get from this gang.”

When they got him downtown, Gian booked him. Decoteau was surprisingly quiet.

By eleven in the morning, Gian was ready to collapse. He had his head down on the desk when the commissioner stormed through the squad room and shouted out his name. “Davinci,” he said, pausing in front of the desk, “don't go anywhere, you're needed this afternoon.”

Gian lifted his head off the desk. “Does it look like I'm going anywhere?”

“Go take a nap in the Captain's office,” Howard commanded.

“Good idea,” Gian muttered and dragged himself to his feet.

“Oh and, Davinci,” he paused as Gian stood still to hear his comment, “good job.”

Gian nodded, then walked into Clint's office. He didn't bother turning on the light. He closed the door, lay on the sofa and went into a coma.

* * * *

A place was found for Cory at a transition house. He was heavily involved in the upcoming trial. He was made to realize that his testimony was critical to putting these bastards away. He was all for that. He saw very little of Gian over the following months however, which was a great disappointment. Gian was in and out of the room when the boys gave their statements, but none of them ever got the opportunity to say more than hello to him.

When the trial finally arrived, it didn't last long. There was a lot of public pressure to bring these three Beaconsfield guards to justice. It had turned into a bit of a media circus.

It was a hot July day when the boys involved began to testify. Some film and tape recordings had been taken into evidence, but a great deal of it had been deemed inadmissible. Gian was on the stand for over two weeks.

This was the time Cory got to see the most of him, but it was from a distance. They never got close enough to talk. When he was outside the courtroom, he was always surrounded by media.

* * * *

Gian didn't give Cory's diary to the D.A. In fact, he never even mentioned it to the prosecution because he knew they had enough evidence. And given the things Cory had said about him in there, it may have done more harm than good.

He had never told Cory he had photocopied it. He kept it at home in a drawer where no one could see it. He figured that Cory had experienced enough humiliation, he didn't need any more.

The trial was tough. There were reporters everywhere and people were horrified at the things they were hearing. Most of the gruesome details were kept private, but still it was tough on everyone involved.

Gian was hounded by reporters everywhere and he was even offered a book and movie deal to tell his story, which he flatly turned down. There was no way he wanted to ever relive that.

On the day the three men were convicted, the courtroom erupted into cheers and applause. People were on their feet and the judge banged her hammer repeatedly calling for order. Each guard got five years without possibility of parole and Andy Falcon got ten. Mr. Mason lost his job and was charged for criminal negligence.

The boys were hugging each other and crying as the prisoners were being led away.

Gian was relieved to see that they were going down, but a little disappointed in the sentence. He would have liked to see them get more prison time, but he'd have to be content with that. He walked over to Andy before he was led from the courtroom and leaned close to his ear. “I know a lot of people up there, Falcon, and I'm going to make sure they know you're coming. They'll be waiting for you. I only wish I could be there.” Then he gave Andy one of his most charming smiles.

Andy met his eyes. “If I ever get you alone you'll wish.... “he hissed.

“If you ever get me alone, Falcon, you'll wish you had friends,” Gian met his eyes. “Take him away to where he belongs,” Gian told the prison guard, who nodded at him and took Andy away.

He watched as Pug and Tim filed past him. “Have a nice trip, boys. Make sure you have a lot of haemorrhoid cream,” he told them, “and get the prescription kind. You're going to need it.”

Pug sneered at him. The scars he had given him, still visible on his face. “Guess you'll remember me, eh, Paul, every time you look in the mirror. You were one hell of an ugly son of a bitch to start with. I think it might even be an improvement.”

Pug cursed at him as he disappeared out the door.

“Asshole,” Tim said as the guard pushed him ahead.

* * * *

Cory stood there waiting for the courtroom to clear some. He came closer to Gian and waited for him to turn around. When he did, Cory said, “Hello.”

“Hi,” Gian said. “How are you, Cory?”

“Good and you?”

“Better now. Glad it's over.”

“Me, too.

“I wish the sentence had been—”

“You did your best.”

Gian nodded.

“You were enjoying yourself there,” Cory grinned.

“I was. I couldn't resist,” he smiled. “It gave me great pleasure to see them helpless for a change.”

Wow, that smile was like someone knocking the wind out of you for a second. It was overwhelming.

“How's it going now at the transition house?” Gian asked him, jarring him back to earth.

“Oh, good. Everyone is really nice.” Cory paused, looking down, then said, “I'm getting out in a few weeks. I'm trying to find a job.”

“Good,” Gian said. “Are you receiving counselling?”

Cory shrugged. “They offer that, yes, but I don't need it really. I'm fine. Besides, it's a little late.”

“Cory,” Gian met his eyes. “You do need it. Trust me. Look, it's a tough world out there. You need to be strong, to be able to cope and ... what are you going to do when you get out? What kind of a job?”

Just then an older man that Cory recognized as a police captain came up and threw his arm around Gian's shoulder. “Hey, I'm so proud of you,” he said. “Coming home? Mom's making a celebration dinner tonight, your favourite. Kayla is home for the weekend.”

“The captain is your father?” Cory was surprised.

“Yes,” Gian said.

“We adopted Gian when he was about your age,” Clint said. “And we never regretted it.”

Gian grinned. “That's a lie,” he teased.

Clint laughed. “I'll wait for you outside.”

“Okay,” Gian replied.

“You're lucky,” Cory said.

“Yes, I am,” he replied. “Well, you be good. Take care.”

He was about to leave when Cory said, “So, that's it huh?”

Gian opened his mouth to reply when Sandra came up to him and grabbed him. “Come on, hero. We're getting blasted tonight.”

Gian laughed. “Later, all right? I promised my parents I'd go home for supper. My sister is there, too.”

“Okay. How bout we meet you at the pub at ten?”

“Sounds great.”

“Bring the old man,” Sandra joked.

“I'll try,” Gian laughed.

“You have a sister?” Cory tried to capture his attention again.

“Ya. She was adopted as a child. Clint and Sam got her in Africa as a baby.”

“Nice,” Cory replied.

“Not really. She's a big pain in the butt,” Gian grinned.

Cory gave him a longing look. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he said.

“Do you have any ... I mean, is it just me or do you feel something, too? You know ... attraction or...” He was having a hard time getting it out, but he had to know.

Then all the other boys came over. They monopolized Gian's attention and Cory couldn't say anything more. By the time they had moved on, Gian had left.

[Back to Table of Contents]

PART 2

That summer turned into winter and then summer again. Gian had been working on three separate cases, all of which were frustrating him. When he finally wrapped up the third one, he asked Clint for vacation time.

“Maybe in the winter,” he was told.

“Who in the hell wants to vacation in the winter, Clint?” Gian demanded.

“You do,” Clint said.

“I do?” Gian echoed sarcastically.

“Yep. Check the roster, you're on nights next week. Now go home, take your two days and pretend you're in Florida, its hot enough.”

It was a scorching summer. Thank God he didn't have to wear a uniform. He took his two days and floundered on the beach, too lazy to swim. There were loads of good-looking guys around giving him the eye, but he was even too tired for that.

When he came back to work on a Saturday night at ten, he was not in a good mood. He put on a pair of jean shorts that ended at the knee and wore a loose fitting white tank top. He adjusted the gun holster over his shoulder and threw the badge on his belt. The holster was uncomfortable.

“Wear it on your hip,” some of the others were saying to him in the precinct when he complained.

“No way. I hate that. I feel like John Wayne,” he said.

Everyone laughed.

Gian leaned down to tie his running shoe and received a pat on the butt from Sandra. “Fresh,” he batted his eyelashes at her. “Are you going to take me home and use me?”

She laughed. “You wish.”

At midnight, he was coming back from taking a report on a corner store robbery when he spotted a fight going on outside a bar. The bar was called Stud, it was a rough gay bar that lay just outside the village.

The area was supposed to be patrolled by black and whites, but they were nowhere in sight.

There was a crowd urging on the two men who were beating the hell out of one another. Gian pulled the car to a stop and sighed. It was too damn hot for this shit and his instinct was to keep driving, but he couldn't in good conscience do that. He got out and slammed the door.

The fight went on, no one realizing that the tall man coming toward them in shorts was a cop.

* * * *

Cory stood outside the door in the alley watching the fight. It was entertainment and, due to the heat, business was slow tonight.

When he recognized the man walking through the parking lot, his heart skipped a beat. He'd know him anywhere. He was in his dreams almost every night. He was dressed in shorts and a tank top, his long hair tied back at the nape. There was a gold badge hanging off his neck.

“All right, all right,” he said in that deep voice, “move aside. I'm a cop. What in hell is going on here?” He picked his badge up off his chest and showed it to people in the crowd, who moved aside to let him in.

The two men were rolling around on the ground. One was bleeding from the head. The other had a broken bottle in his hand. Gian took the bottle and threw it aside. then picked the guy off the ground and pushed him to one side. He bent down to check out the other guy. “Looks like you're going to need stitches.”

“He's hot,” one of the other prostitutes from the bar said to Cory.

“Um,” Cory smiled. “I know him. He's a street cop.”

“Ah. You know him ... in the biblical sense?”

“I wish. No, but I have seen him naked,” Cory whispered with a wink.

“Lucky you.”

“Hey, you're cute,” one guy said, as he pulled the bleeding guy over to the step and sat him down.

“Thanks a lot,” Gian replied dryly. He looked down at the man. “Now, you want to tell me what happened here?”

Cory came over and looked at Gian. “It's his lover. He slept with another guy and they got into it. Happens all the time. How you doing, Gian?”

Gian blinked, “Cory?”

“Ya. It's me. Looking good.”

* * * *

Gian ran his gaze over Cory. He was dressed in tight red leather shorts and an open jean vest. His hair was long and untidy. He was filled with a strange sense of desire and pity for him. He knew he was working.

“What are you doing in this dive?” Gian asked him. He knew what this place was for.

“Not much,” Cory looked around.

Gian turned back to the guy who was bleeding on the steps. “Want to press charges?”

“Naw. I love him. It was my fault anyway.”

Gian sighed and looked at the other guy who already was saying that he was sorry. “Better take him to the hospital for stitches,” Gian told the guy. “And get counselling, or something!”

“Come on honey,” he said, pulling him up. “Sorry I lost my temper.”

Gian rolled his eyes. “Try making love, it frees up space in the emergency wards,” Gian said, as they walked off.

“Thanks, officer,” one of them called back.

Gian picked up the broken bottle and threw it into a dumpster.

* * * *

Cory stood at the side of the door, watching him. God he was so handsome. What he wouldn't give just to kiss him. He had grown a moustache. It suited him.

“Don't worry about those guys,” Cory told him. “They're in love.”

“Ah, hate to see them one day if they fall out of love.”

Cory reached up and touched the moustache. “Nice. When did you decide on that?”

“It kind of decided on me,” he said with a shrug of broad shoulders.

Cory nodded. “Don't grow a beard. You have a beautiful face and you don't want to cover it up. The moustache is all right because it's thin and you trim it well.”

“I'll take that under advisement,” Gian replied, with a smile.

Cory laughed. “What cha’ been up to?”

“Working.”

Cory nodded. “Me, too.”

“Doing what?” Gian eyed him, although they both knew the answer.

Cory laughed. “Want to cuff me officer, take me in? I wouldn't mind.”

Some guy near by called out, “Who in the hell would mind? Tie me up, baby, and rape me.”

Cory grinned. “You have a fan.”

“Only one?” Gian mocked, ignoring the comment.

“You got two.”

“Ah,” Gian nodded, raising an eyebrow. “The other one would be you?”

“Of course. So how ‘bout it, going to cuff me?”

“I'm not going to take you in, Cory,” Gian shook his dark head, “but I am disappointed.”

“Disappointed? Why?” Cory asked, his voice sounding shrill. “Disappointed to find the guy you saved from the boogie men was just a whore anyway? You wasted your time on me.”

“I never said that,” Gian replied, shaking his head.

“But you were thinking it,” Cory told him, reaching over and running his hand over his forearm.

“No,” Gian said. “I was thinking that you could do better than this.”

“Really? How?” Cory met his eyes. “Checking groceries? Waiting tables?”

Gian shrugged. “Maybe.”

Cory withdrew his hand and looked down at the ground. “You never did give me that one night.”

“No, I never did,” Gian replied, his voice strained. He began to walk away. He stopped, turned around and lifted a hand. “See ya,” he said.

Cory watched him walk to the car that was haphazardly parked on the curb, tears came up in his eyes, but he forced them away. “Think maybe one day you might reconsider?”

Gian paused at the car and then opened the door. He looked at him and slowly he shook his head from side to side, “Too much competition,” he said and then got into the car.

Cory watched him drive away. Gian didn't look back.

* * * *

Gian took out the diary when he got home and read some of it. He read the parts where Cory talked about his feelings for him. He closed his eyes for a minute, remembering how he had avoided intimate contact with him at Beaconsfield. Even back then, even though he tried not to dwell on it, he was attracted to him. Seeing him tonight took him by surprise. It's not that he had forgotten about him. It was just that they had lost touch and Gian figured that it was for the best. Cory had this crush on him and it wouldn't have taken long for them to become sexually involved. They weren't meant to be together and tonight had confirmed it. Cory had gone back to the streets. So every man was getting it, every man who paid the price that is.

He got up off the sofa and walked into the bedroom. No, they weren't meant to be, a prostitute and a cop, a cop who wasn't even home long enough to have a relationship. But maybe a relationship was not what he wanted right now.

He lay down and thought about what he said. One night, he had told him. There are so many things I want to do with you. He still remembered the little thrill that went down his spine when he had told him that. “Baby,” he murmured, turning over in bed, “there are a lot of things I'd like to do with you, too.”

Who in the hell knows what he was thinking when he went back to the Stud on his night off the following week. He knew he wanted to see him. Cory wasn't there when he came in, so he went up to the bar and ordered a beer.

It was dark in the bar. It smelt of cigarettes and sex. It was cooler tonight. People were dancing on the dance floor. He had worn a pair of jeans, faded and tight and he knew their effect very well. He wore a simple white t-shirt tucked into the jeans. The t-shirt showed off the muscles in his arms and his torso and contrasted with his bronze skin. He left his hair loose and didn't shave. He felt a little rough trade tonight. He wasn't a cop. He was just a young man on the prowl, but he was looking for only one guy.

He drank two more beers then stopped. It was just enough to take away his inhibitions. It was almost midnight. If Cory came in, then so be it. He was getting tired of standing here. Besides they were having too much fun on the dance floor.

He looked over to a couple of guys sitting at a table nearby. They were good looking enough and they had been undressing him all night with their eyes. He winked at them, then turned back around, giving them a view of his rear in those jeans. He knew he had a great ass. It made him laugh these games. It had been a long time since he had played them. He leaned over to the bartender and said, “You know Cory?”

“Ya, I know Cory,” he smiled. “He's our sex machine.”

“Ya? Well, is he coming in tonight?”

“He'll be here. Never misses. Doing a John right now.”

Gian nodded, trying not to dwell on that. He felt those two guys now on either side of him, close.

“Hey,” one said.

The other moved his hand down in front of Gian's groin and brushed it with his hand. “Oops,” he said, “Sorry.”

Gian laughed. “Trying to see if I'm as nice in front as I am in back?”

“Hell, baby,” the other one said, placing a hand on his ass, “You're nice all over.”

“Want to dance?” The other one asked.

They were playing a fast Rickie Martin song. “You guys come as a package deal?” Gian laughed.

“That bother you?” one guy threw at him.

“Not so far,” Gian told them. “Let's go.”

* * * *

Cory walked up to the bar seconds later and asked the bartender for a coke. The bartender seemed distracted as he handed it to him. “What's up?” Cory asked.

“He could make a grown man fall to his knees and cry,” he growled.

“Who could?” Cory looked out on the dance floor where the bartender was looking. Then he saw him. He was hard to miss. He was taller than almost every other man in the place and the other guys flocked around him like bees to honey. God he looked delicious tonight, his hair loose, those tight jeans. What in hell was he doing here?

“He asked about you?” The bartender leaned forward. “You know that big hunk of man?”

“Ya,” Cory smiled. “I know him.”

“Ah ... a client.”

“No,” Cory snapped. “He's no client. Never that.” He drained his coke and waited for him to come off the dance floor.

Gian was walking back toward the bar now, his t-shirt plastered to him, his hair wet. Um, sexy as hell.

“Well,” Cory said to him, “this is a strange place for you to go dancing, isn't it?”

* * * *

He was wearing short shorts again, this time, they were jean shorts and they revealed way too much. He was wearing a jean jacket on top, open with no shirt.

Gian ran his eyes over him. He ordered a beer. “I didn't come here to dance.”

Cory stood straight.

There was something in his eyes he'd never seen before. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

“What did you come here for?” Cory asked, moving a little closer to him as he began to drink his beer.

His back was leaning against the bar, his legs comfortably apart. Gian put down the beer. “Want to find out?”

Cory blinked. “Ah ... wait ... I mean...”

Gian moved up to him and placed an arm around his back. He pulled him roughly against him. He lowered his mouth to his ear. “I want to go somewhere where I can rip those shorts off you because what's in them is driving me crazy right now.”

Cory felt his hand on one of his buttocks. His erection was pressing against his thigh. He felt himself breathing harder. He laid his cheek against his chest.

Gian released him. “Unless you're not interested.”

“Me ... not interested?” He started laughing.

Gian tilted his head. “Something funny?”

“This is a joke, right? You're screwing with my head.”

“How much?” He asked softly. “How much for the night and I get to do everything ... everything I want.” He met his eyes boldly.

Cory cleared his throat. He could hardly speak. “What does everything mean?” He leaned against him. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want to do?” His knees were weak.

“I'd much rather show you than tell you, but I'll do both at the same time if that turns you on,” he told him, again taking a step back.

“You're teasing me now,” Cory smiled at him.

“Maybe, but if you want this,” he said running his hand seductively over his chest down to his groin, “then you'll have to leave here with me now.”

Cory nodded.

Gian was behind him as they left the bar. “I've been drinking,” he told him outside, “so let's rent a room?”

Cory turned around. “I have one.”

“You still didn't tell me how much,” Gian said, following him.

“You didn't tell me what you want to do,” Cory replied, swallowing.

“Yes I did. I said everything.”

Cory walked fast. He didn't want him to touch him just now. He was afraid that he'd get carried away. They walked into the hotel and up the stairs. Cory took out his key. It was a typical dive, but not uncommon for prostitutes. This one was clean.

Gian came into the room after him and closed the door. There was a double bed and a lamp on the table. Cory switched it on. On the left hand side was a makeshift closet and bureau.

Cory stood there looking at him. “You really don't expect me to charge you?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Because I'm ... I mean...”

“Look Cory, I'm not the Salvation Army. I'm not here to reform you. I'm here because I want sex. It's that simple. Don't think because I'm a cop, I'm an angel.”

“Never thought that,” Cory smiled, moving over to him.

Gian's gaze went to those shorts. “Take them off,” he demanded.

This was a side of Gian he didn't know. It was Gian the man and it transformed him from cop to man with a sexual appetite and desire in his eyes. It was turning him on like a furnace.

Cory removed the shorts, his shoes and the jacket. He watched Gian as he watched him and he was halfway there.

Gian ran his gaze over him. “Do you know how much I wanted you back at Beaconsfield?”

Cory moved closer to him. “No.”

“Sometimes I wondered what made the difference between me and Andy. I would see you and ... I...” he stopped.

Cory reached up and touched his face. “You're nothing like Andy Falcon. You're just a man,” he said softly, “a man with desires and needs.” He yanked the t-shirt out of Gian's pants and pulled it over his head. All that hair fell down over his shoulders. He smoothed it back with his hand. “You're trembling,” Cory told him, undoing the snap on his jeans. “If you knew how much I wanted to do this, you would be quite shocked.”

Gian looked down at him. “Shock me.”

Cory pushed the jeans down over his hips and took out his erection. He held it and then lowered his lips to it. “God, I ached to do this back at Beaconsfield. I used to pretend that Andy was you.”

Gian raised an eyebrow. “That must have taken some imagination.”

They both laughed and Gian pulled Cory up straight. He took him into his arms and stroked his back, kissed his hair.

Cory raised his face to his and Gian kissed him deeply then moved him over to the bed and laid him down. He looked at his naked body for the longest time and then he moaned. “Jesus,” he said. “I must have been a saint,” he leaned down, placed his lips on his chest and began moving downward.

“I think you might be in danger of losing your title,” Cory moaned.

When Gian ran his tongue over the length of his shaft, Cory dug his nails into the mattress. He reached out one hand and found some of his silky hair. He wrapped it around his fist, hearing Gian grunt in protest when he pulled. Cory released his hold when Gian took his cock into his mouth and began to massage his balls. He came seconds into it and sprang up in bed from the impact as Gian reached for his hand and swallowed.

Cory gulped back hot tears. The absolute pleasure of it was overwhelming and he had to be pressured back down as Gian moved back up to his chest and kissed him there. Cory stroked his hair, his eyes closing, groaning when he felt fingers moving again over his cock and the other hand reaching under him to tease his anus. He slammed his head down into the pillow, his eyes squeezing tight. He'd never just laid here before and had someone give ... they always took and it was almost unbearable. “I need to...” he began as Gian pushed up his legs and pulled him downward.

“Shush,” Gian told him. “I want to drive you wild.”

A finger moved around the outer muscles of his anus, then pushed inward. Slowly it massaged his entrance and then was suddenly replaced by the smooth lapping of his tongue. Cory almost leaped off the bed. “What are you...”

“What?” Gian asked, looking up at him, “no one's ever rimmed you before?”

“I've done it but...”

“Lay back, close your eyes,” he urged, “let me love you.”

Love? Was this love? God, it surely felt like it. He relaxed, closed his eyes, drifted, the tension gradually increasing every few seconds, his cock hard as rock. Gian's hair brushed his thighs, his tongue probed him, opening him, bringing him to the point that he would have begged. When he got up off the bed for a second, Cory thought he'd die, but he was back immediately, tearing the condom package, hastily pushing it onto his erection.

Cory watched, his gaze caressing the length of him. A big, thick, beautiful cock waved proudly in front of him.

“I want to fuck you,” he met his gaze.

“You asking?”

“I'm pleading,” he smiled almost shyly.

Cory sat up and pulled his mouth to his. He kissed him hotly, deeply. It was his answer and the message was understood.

Gian pulled Cory's legs up over his broad shoulders. “If I'm hurting you, tell me. I'll be gentle.”

“You won't hurt me,” he shook his head. “Just be you. You could never hurt me.”

Gian's cock sliced into him like a blade, initially uncomfortable and then his body wrapped around it and possessed it, made it his. It fit. He fit. Cory had never known any man who felt more like he belonged there. As he bore down, possessing him to the limit, moving sensuously, steadily and then letting go so that passion and lust became their only master. The bed rocked. Animalistic thrusts and cries seized them both in its grip and didn't release, making separate that room in space and time from all earthly places. It was surreal and, as Gian's cock left his body, he crawled up to collapse on top of him, Cory held him, their slick, sweat drenched bodies clinging to each other quite desperately.

Cory didn't want to sleep. He was afraid. There was so much he wanted to do. He wanted to touch him all over, kiss every inch of his beautiful body. He touched him almost reverently, kissed his mouth, whispered things against his hair and, out of exhaustion, drifted off to sleep with Gian in his arms.

When he woke up, his greatest fear was realized. He was alone. Worse, there were two, one hundred dollar bills lying on the table beside the bed. He sat up and looked at the place he had laid. There were no words to describe what he had felt in his arms last night.

Would he come back again? He didn't know, but at one point, he was sure he had heard Gian whisper something like you make me happy ... before they'd gone off to sleep. Maybe he'd come back.

* * * *

Gian kept telling himself he couldn't have a male prostitute for a lover. After that one night with Cory, he told himself that was it. He wasn't going to see him again. But he couldn't stay away. The next available night he had, he went back there to that bar to find him. Cory was there when he walked in. He didn't have to ask. Cory smiled at him and they left the bar. It began like that and developed into a ritual. Whenever he was free, he went to that bar to find him. They'd go to Cory's room and make love all night long. In the morning, he always left before Cory woke up and he always paid.

When his shift would change and he wasn't able to see him, it would feel as if he was in hell. He literally ached to touch him. He knew it wasn't healthy.

One night when he met Cory at the hotel as usual, Cory was standing around with another prostitute bragging about this guy who paid him five hundred dollars for a weekend. As Gian walked toward them, he heard Cory say, “It was fun. There was five guys and hot, wow. Anyway, I got tied up and suspended on a rope and damn they played with every inch of me.”

Something knotted up in Gian's gut.

Cory reached out to him when he spotted him. “I missed you. Are you ready to go? I'm so happy to see you tonight. It's been almost a week since I've touched you. I need to have you naked in my arms.”

Gian gave him a faint smile and they walked outside. He fell silent, deep in thought. It had been almost six months since they'd started meeting like this and, in a way, it suited him. There were no demands on him. And for the most part, he could pretend there was no one else but him. They never discussed Cory's John's. When he heard Cory talk like that in the bar, it snapped him into reality. He tried to push it aside, but it had put him into a really bad mood.

“You're quiet,” Cory said, wrapping his arm around him.

“I'm okay.”

“I love you,” he whispered.

Gian looked down at him. “Do you?”

“Yes, of course. You know that. Do you love me?”

Gian pushed back some hair off his face. “Yes, I think I do.”

“You think,” Cory laughed. “Oh, you're such a man.”

Gian tried to smile, but he was still hearing those words Cory said back at the bar.

In the room, Cory began to take off his clothes. He had put on weight the past little while. He seemed to be taking better care of himself now. He was more beautiful every time he saw him.

Gian just stood there. “Tell me about your fun weekend?” His voice was strained.

“What?”

“The one you bragged about with Steve back at the bar.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” He stood there naked, smiling at him. He ran his hand seductively over his chest. “Want me?”

Gian nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Is there a time when I don't want you?” He was already hard. He closed his eyes when Cory undid the zipper on his jeans. He felt like a heroin addict, addicted to something that would kill him.

Cory took his erection into his mouth and an involuntary moaned escaped his lips. He looked down at him on his knees in front of him. When he was away from him this long, it felt like the first time all over again.

“You enjoyed your weekend?” He managed between clenched teeth. The images in his head enraged him in spite of the pleasure. He reached down suddenly and pulled Cory off the floor. Cory looked surprised when he backed him against the wall.

“What's wrong with you tonight?” Cory asked.

“You want me to tie you up?” He demanded. “Is that what you want?” He forced him around so that his face was against the wall. “You want it rough? I can be rough. No problem, baby. Maybe it's just not kinky enough for you. Maybe you really did like it back there at Beaconsfield.”

* * * *

Cory grunted as he felt Gian press his erection against his ass. “Gian, what's wrong ... why are you—”

An arm wrapped around him and Gian went into him, a lot rougher than normal. At first it frightened him a little, but it felt so good. Gian pressed him to the floor now, arm around his neck, pumping him hard. Cory cried out with passion. “Yes, baby, yes,” he moved against him. He was moving faster and harder, growling something, then abruptly pulled out. He picked him up and dumped him on the bed on his back. He spread his legs, pushed them up and back, going into him again. He threw his head back and came inside of him. Then he broke away, breathing hard. He pushed up off the bed and paced the floor a few times.

Cory sat up and looked at him. “What's wrong, Gian? Why did you stop?”

He turned around and looked at him. He shook his head and began to pull on his pants.

“Hey,” Cory got off the bed, “where you going, handsome?”

“Don't,” he put up a hand, “don't play me and don't treat me like one of your customers.”

“What did I do? Did I do something wrong?”

“I don't think we should...” he put on his shirt. “I don't want to see you anymore.”

Cory paled. “What?”

“It's over!” he said stiffly, looking for his coat. He pulled out his wallet and emptied it on the floor. “There, take it. Take it all!”

“I don't want it,” Cory cried out. “I don't want any of it. I just want you.”

“You don't want me, you want your weekends with your five johns hanging you from the ceiling and that's cool,” he said. “You want to be whore, be a whore,” he yelled. “But leave me alone because Jesus, Cory,” he said, his eyes filling with tears, “I don't like what you bring out in me and damn ... my poor heart can't take it.”

“You're the one who insisted on paying me. You made yourself a John,” Cory said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I love you, I fucking love you. I never asked for money.”

Gian shook his head. “You're like a drug. I want more and more of you, but you're not mine and I have to break the addiction, Cory. It's killing me.” He walked out and shut the door.

Cory pulled on his pants and went running down the stairs. “Gian, Gian!” he yelled after him. He caught up to him halfway down the street. “Listen to me,” he said breathlessly, “I'll do anything you want.”

He paused, looked at him. “The way we met. Cory, don't you see? This is wrong, everything about it stinks. Two guys with fucked up backgrounds playing some sort of game ... I don't know.” He shook his head.

Cory wrung his hands together. “It doesn't feel like a game to me. You don't have to pay me. Why do you?”

“Because you are who you are.” He reached out and touched his shoulder. “You've been through so much, a hurt little boy inside, and you can't touch that pain because—”

“What are you talking about?” Cory demanded.

“You know. After my uncle did what he did to me ... after he sexually abused me, I cried out for help. I was a child and I knew unless I faced what had happened to me, I'd always be a child crying out for help. I was lucky, I had Clint and Sam and my sister. You haven't even acknowledged what happened to you. And somehow you think it's your fault and that's why you're out here on these streets. I can't save you, Cory. The only one I can save is myself.”

Cory stood there stunned. “That's just an excuse, an excuse for you to run away, to deny what you feel for me.”

“Deny what I feel?” He choked. “Oh no, I can't deny it and that's why I have to get out before this swallows me whole. Just...” he put up his hand, “forget about this. Forget it ever happened and I'll try to do the same.”

Cory watched him walk away. He stood there in the same spot for the longest time before he turned and went back to his room.

* * * *

It took Gian everything he had to stay away from Cory. He buried himself in work, worked on his days off and tried not to think about him. When he found he could hardly stand it anymore, he'd go out and pick up a stranger. It seemed to ease the ache for a few hours, but it would always come back again the next morning. He should have followed his instincts and never touched him.

Occasionally, late at night when he'd just come off shift, he would drive by the Stud bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cory from a distance. Sometimes he would. He'd be either hanging around outside the bar or walking on the street nearby. But he was rarely alone and Gian would drive on, feeling worse. Eventually he forced himself to stop doing that altogether.

He had gone and fallen in love with a prostitute. Could he have been any more of an ass than that? And it certainly seemed that Cory had no intention of getting off the streets or even taking a look at the reasons he was out there. Cory hadn't offered to give up the life for him. If he really had given a damn about him, Gian figured he would have.

* * * *

Cory thought that Gian would come walking into the bar one night, but six months had gone by and he hadn't seen him. His friends told him to forget about that cop, but that was easier said than done. How do you forget your own heartbeat? Never once had Gian asked him to give up the life. If he had said, “Cory, I love you, stop working the streets and come live with me,” he would have gone in a second, but he never did. He always pretended what he did didn't bother him, but in the end, it was the reason he walked away.

All that money he had given him, Cory had put into an envelope and hid under a loose floorboard in his room. He couldn't bear to spend it. One night, he took it out and counted it. There was over six thousand dollars there, each two hundred dollars representing one night of love with him, one night in his arms. He held the money to his heart and sobbed like a baby.

He missed him so much it hurt. He was all he'd ever dreamed of. He knew he wasn't worthy of a man like that. He didn't deserve him. He was a whore. That's all he knew and that's all he would ever be. All his life he'd been used. Maybe that's all Gian had done, too, use him.

When Gian didn't come back to him, he hooked up with Evan out of loneliness. Evan was a generous guy and, most of the time, he was nice. But he had a vicious temper when he was drinking. He was tall and dark haired like Gian, but skinny and average looking. He was into heavy bondage, which Cory didn't mind once in awhile, but he would have preferred just straight sex. He wasn't much of a kisser and not very tender, although he could be passionate when the mood struck him.

Evan worked in a factory and he had a nice apartment. He asked Cory to move in with him and didn't seem to mind what Cory did for a living. Sometimes he'd invite his friends over and they'd have a real orgy, but then he would get drunk and Cory would go and stay at his friend's house until he sobered up because he got mean. He didn't realize that Evan's temper would grow more vicious as time went on.

All the while, he dreamt of Gian. Sometimes he would fantasize about him when Evan was inside of him. It made sex with him tolerable.

One night when one of his friends brought up Gian's name, Evan demanded to know who he was. Cory had never told Evan about Gian. He was jealous enough. He didn't need to fuel it. “Ancient history,” Cory said quickly, waving it away.

“But he was a doll,” his friend, Steve said, “you should have seen this guy. What a man. He was a God. Really tall and all muscle, long black hair and big brown eyes, Cory, do you remember those eyes? They were like big pools of liquid chocolate.”

“Yes,” Cory said softly. “I remember.”

“Yeah, but could he fuck?” Evan demanded, laughing.

Cory was quiet.

“Answer me, could he cut it in bed? Bet he had a wee cock about this big.” Evan showed Cory and Steve the tip of his thumb.

Cory looked at him. “He was an incredible lover,” he whispered. “And he had a beautiful cock. But he's gone now.” He got up, left the room and went into the bathroom.

“He's still in love with him,” someone said aloud.

Evan followed him into the bathroom. “That true? You still love him?”

Cory wiped the tears out of his eyes. “No, and don't worry, Evan.” He put his arms around him, “He's not coming back to me.”

“He better not come back. I'm better in bed than him, right?”

Cory hugged him. “Yes,” he lied. “You're much better.”

* * * *

Two months later, Gian went out with two male friends to a gay bar in the village. It was a nice place, classy and anyone was welcome. His sister Kayla was home from law school and decided to come along with them.

They were dancing and having a good time when Gian stopped dead in the middle of the dance floor. He was looking above him at a table on the second floor.

Kayla moved up to him. “What's wrong, honey? You like someone just punched you.”

“I just saw someone I knew, that's all,” he replied without expression.

At a table just above him was Cory. He was with a tall lanky man with thin black hair.

“Who is he?” Kayla asked.

“Someone I...” he began, swallowing.” Someone I once loved.”

“Really?” she said. “I didn't know there was anyone. Is it the cute one with the curly dark hair?”

“That's him.” He turned around and took his sister's arm. “Stop looking up there. I don't want him to think I'm staring at him. Just dance.”

“Did he hurt you? If he broke your heart, I'll—”

“No. I broke my own heart.” He patted her arm. “And stop being so over protective.” He didn't expect to see him here in this place. It was expensive and classy, not at all a hang out for prostitutes. He couldn't believe how fresh the wound felt. It had been over eight months since he'd been in the same room with him.

His two friends were laughing as they began bumping together on the floor. They came over to grab Kayla and Gian around the neck and started doing some stupid line dance, laughing like fools. Gian couldn't help but be drawn into it all and he was laughing with them.

* * * *

Cory sipped his drink. He paused and looked down on the dance floor to see what all the commotion was about. Then his heart began to pound in his chest like some kind of wild dance. It was Gian. My God. He was dressed up tonight with black leather pants and a deep purple shirt, open at the neck. He didn't know the two other young guys, but the woman dancing next to him was probably his sister because she was a tall African woman with ebony skin. Very pretty.

When Evan excused himself to go to the bathroom, Cory felt free to indulge himself by watching Gian. He remembered holding him as if it was yesterday. He remembered how his skin felt, how his lips tasted. He could picture himself touching every inch of his body. He closed his eyes for a moment.

“That guy is looking at you,” Kayla told her brother. “Why don't you go and talk to him?”

Gian sighed. “Yeah, maybe I will just say hello.” It was pretty stupid to ignore him. He had to be mature about this. He just couldn't pretend they'd never met.

* * * *

Kayla watched her brother as he climbed the stairs. How could such a good-looking man be so unlucky in love? She noticed how people watched him as he walked up those stairs. He could have probably picked up any number of men here tonight. It wasn't only what people saw when they looked at Gian that was the most important, it was what they didn't see. He was the modern day hero, a man who cared, sweet and kind. Her brother deserved to be happy. The man he finally chose to love for the rest of his life would be the luckiest man alive but where was he?

* * * *

Cory sucked in some breath as Gian approached the table. He was sure he was going to just walk on by, pretend he wasn't there. But here he was.

“Hello,” he said.

Cory nodded. “Hi.” His hands were shaking. He folded them together and hid them under the table.

“Who is the guy that was here with you a while ago?” He asked without hesitation.

“His name is Evan. We live together now. He works at a factory at the docks. We are very happy. We're a couple.” He didn't know why he felt compelled to say that.

“You want to hurt me?” Gian asked him, meeting his eyes. “Why don't you just slug me, its faster that way?”

There was a silence as Cory looked away. Then afraid that he would walk away, Cory quickly looked back at him. “How's work?”

“Work,” he shrugged.

“One of those guys over there your lover?”

“Both of them, every night,” Gian replied, then tilted his head and said, “Feels good, doesn't it?”

“I suppose I asked for that,” Cory nodded, looking down at his lap.

“I suppose you did. Do you think I'm sleeping alone every night, waking up every hour, calling your name?”

“Are you?” Cory met his eyes.

“No,” Gian replied. “But you'd be happy if I was.”

Cory looked down again, “I'd be happier if you...”

“If I what?” Gian asked him.

“If you ... I think you should get back to your friends,” Cory said, finding it harder now.

* * * *

Gian was about to turn and leave when he noticed something. He bent down a little closer to him and peered at him. “What happened to your eye?”

“My what?”

“Your eye.” He inspected the bruise. “It's yellow, like someone hit you.”

* * * *

Cory pushed his chair back to create a distance between them. “Nothing. Leave it alone.”

Gian stood up straight. “Did someone hit you?” He demanded.

“Gian, leave it alone okay? I can take care of myself.”

“It doesn't look like it,” Gian replied.

Just then, that man Cory had been sitting with came back. He gave Gian a dirty look. “He's not working tonight, honey. Get lost.”

Cory stood. He put a hand on Evan's arm. “It's all right. He's an old friend.”

“Well, old friend,” he said, glaring at Gian, “fuck off.”

“Who in the hell do you think you're talking to?” Gian shot back. “I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to Cory. He can tell me to leave if he wants me to, not you.”

“Who in the fuck is this guy?”

“Evan, its okay. Gian, I think you better go. I really—”

Evan pushed Cory out of the way. Cory fell back on the floor. Evan reached over and grabbed Gian by the shirt.

“Take your hands off me!” Gian bristled. “You may beat up on Cory, but man, I'm warning you, I'll kick your ass if you don't let go of me, you fucker.”

Cory scrambled off the floor. The table went flying and the glasses with it. People at the surrounding tables jumped up from their seats, yelling. Several other tables crashed to the floor as Evan and Gian struggled.

There was one punch being thrown after another. They were struggling near the railing and at one point and Evan tipped Gian half way over the banister.

“Evan, don't!” Cory yelled out. He ran over and pulled Evan back, which earned him a punch in the mouth.

Gian managed to hang on to the railing and pull himself back over again. Then he got in a good punch that sent Evan flying halfway across the floor, knocking over more tables.

Cory looked over at Gian to make sure he was all right. He was wiping some blood off his jaw. His shirt was ripped and his knuckles were bleeding, but he was on his feet. Evan, however, was another story.

Cory walked over to where Evan laid and knelt down beside him.

Gian was standing over them now.

“Evan, can you get up?” Cory asked him, trying to pull him to his feet, but he wasn't strong enough.

“What a touching scene,” Gian sneered.

Cory looked up at him. “Are you all right?”

“What do you care?” he snarled.

Cory looked away and bit his lip.

“Get out of the way,” Gian told him, “so I can see if he needs medical attention.”

Cory stood and let Gian kneel down beside him. “Come on,” Gian said, “you'll be fine.” Gian stood and looked at Cory. “You'll be happy to know that your boyfriend is going to live. He'll come round in a minute.”

The manager had called the police and suddenly two officers were there surveying the scene. They walked over to where the crowd was gathered and told people to stand back. One of them went to check on Evan who was still on the floor.

They didn't recognize Gian as a police officer. “Sir,” one of them said, “what happened here?”

“We got into a fight. What do you think happened here?” Gian remarked, still wiping at his jaw.

Cory looked at the cops. “Just a little fight, no damage done.”

“There was damage done to the property,” one officer said. He looked at Gian and flipped open his book.

Gian's sister was now standing near him, concerned. The two other men also stood near by.

“I thought your kind were a little less violent,” the officer remarked.

“Our kind?” Gian mouthed. “What in fuck does that mean?”

Cory winced. Gian was in a foul mood. Damn, he hoped he didn't get into trouble for this.

“Sir, do you have any identification?”

“Want to see my driver's license or my badge number?” Gian growled, taking out his wallet.

“You on the job?” the cop asked, blinking at him in surprise.

“Yeah, there's a few of us less violent types on the force.” He handed him his identification. “But don't say anything. It's like the military, don't ask, don't fucking tell.”

Cory winced.

The officer looked embarrassed. “You're Gian Davinci.”

“Sergeant Davinci to you,” Gian met his eyes.

“Sir,” he said. “I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding.”

Damn, Gian was a sergeant. He hadn't even known that. There was so much he didn't know about him.

“I'm sure we can work this all out,” the other cop said. “If you agree to pay the damages, I'm—”

“No problem. Give the manager my address and have him send me a bill. I'm sure you guys know that on my generous salary from the NYPD, it should only take me half a dozen years to pay him off. Can I go now or am I being arrested?”

Evan was on his feet with the help of one of the cops. He glared at Gian.

“You're free to go, Sergeant Davinci.” The officer nodded at him respectfully.

“So, this is your cop lover,” Evan sneered, “Or maybe he was your cock sucker,” he yelled at Cory.

Gian moved so fast, the two cops couldn't contain him. He went for Evan and, in a flash, had him on the floor again. The two officers tried three times unsuccessfully to pull him away. Finally, they half lifted him off Evan and carried him outside.

Evan was laughing. “Should lock that freak up.”

Cory ignored Evan and ran outside. The police officers were talking to him, trying to calm him down. He was pacing angrily and staring at the bar. Twice he tried to break through to go back in, but the two cops blocked his path.

Kayla and the two men Gian had come in with brushed past Cory and stood near Gian.

When the police officers went back inside the Club, Kayla walked over and put an arm around her brother. They headed toward the car. The two other guys walked behind them.

“Gian,” Cory yelled, running across the street.

Gian turned around and looked back at him, then shook his head and kept walking.

“Are you all right?” Cory asked him, standing in front of him now. “You're not hurt, are you?”

Gian raised stormy eyes to his “Why do you keep asking me that? Do you want to lick my wounds or something?”

Cory sighed. “I just wanted you to know that I don't love Evan.”

“I don't give a fuck who you love! Why bother telling me that?”

Cory shifted from one leg to another. “Evan is a little jealous.”

“A little jealous?” Gian raised an eyebrow. “What does he think about the line of work you're in?”

“He ... doesn't mind that. It's not the same.”

“Oh, I see,” Gian sniffed. “How did he know I was your so called cop lover anyway ... or cock sucker as he called it?”

“One of my friends mentioned you recently, that's all.”

There was a strained silence.

“Gian, maybe its best if you change bars, or something,” Cory suggested gently. “Evan really likes this place and it could be awkward if—”

“Your boyfriend can kiss my ass!” Gian scoffed.

“It would avoid trouble, that's all,” Cory muttered.

“If Evan wants to avoid trouble, let him go somewhere else. I'll come here as often as I like, Evan or no Evan, and you can tell him so for me.”

Kayla took Gian's arm and started to pull him away. “Come on, let's go.”

He followed her to the car where the other two waited. He got into the back seat and they drove away leaving Cory standing there.

It had started to rain. Cory closed his eyes. It was so painful seeing him, more painful than he would have believed. “I love you, Gian,” he whispered in the dark, rain dripping down his face. When he went back inside, he was soaked to the skin.

* * * *

Kayla got out of the car with her brother. Tonight she would stay with Gian. He needed to talk, although he would claim he wanted to be alone.

When they got inside his apartment, he said, “I don't need a babysitter, you know.”

“I knew you were going to say that. Big tough guy. So, what was all that about tonight?”

Gian took an ice pack out of the freezer and pressed it against his mouth. Then he tore off his shirt and threw it on the floor. “He ruined my shirt, the bastard.”

“Gian!” Kayla sat on the sofa. “What happened there tonight? You could be reprimanded for this. You're a cop!”

“I know I'm a cop, Kayla. Just let me worry about that, okay?”

“What was that?” She insisted.

“It was what it was,” he snapped. “I need a drink.”

She got up and poured them both some scotch.

He drank his in one gulp.

“You in pain?”

“Some. It will pass.”

“That's not what I meant. Who is that guy?”

“What guy?”

“The sweet looking guy who told you he didn't love Evan. Who is Evan?”

Gian sighed. “It's a long story.”

“Well, I have time. Tell it to me.”

Gian poured himself another drink and sat in the chair, closing his eyes.

“You love that guy,” Kayla said.

Gian opened his eyes. “Past tense.”

“I don't think so.”

“Well, you don't know.”

“Was he your lover?”

“He's everybody's lover,” he sneered.

“What?”

“He's a prostitute, a male hooker, a whore who really enjoys his work. Gian's voice was laced with bitterness.

“But he loves you.”

“He does not!” Gian stood, banging the empty glass down on the table.

“Well, I was watching him tonight and I tell you, it was you he was concerned about. He looked like he was going to die when that guy had you over that railing. Not to mention that I almost had a heart attack. He pulled him off, you know?”

“Big deal.”

“How long were you his lover?”

“A year and a half maybe, but I paid for it, every bloody time.”

Kayla shook her head in confusion. “You paid that guy for sex? Why?”

“Because I told you, he's a prostitute.”

“But he loves you. Why did you pay him?” Kayla asked, pouring herself another drink.

Gian didn't answer.

“Why did you pay him?”

“Because I ... I didn't want to get too involved, especially with a prostitute. I never thought it would turn into what it did. It was supposed to be sex.”

She put down her drink. “But you were ... are ... in love with the man.”

“Yes, but Kayla,” he threw up his hands, exasperated, “he never offered to give up that life for me. It wasn't my place to ask him. And my life is so messed up ... the way I work, no one wants to live with me. Look at Jeremy.”

“Jeremy is not the same, Gian. You gave up on him. You were sure you couldn't make him happy, so you let him go. He would have come back if you would have asked him.”

“I can't make anyone happy, Kayla, I work all the time.”

“So what? If someone loves you, they'll adjust. What about truck drivers or doctors?”

“Not the same. I put my life on the line everyday.”

“You didn't think you had anything to offer this one either, so you kept paying him for sex because that way you thought you wouldn't get too involved. Is that right?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

“So what went wrong?”

“I fell in love.” He groaned. Then with a sigh, he said, “I told myself his work didn't bother me. We didn't discuss it so it was all right. Then suddenly, I couldn't stand the thought of him with other men. One night I overheard some stuff and I lost it completely. So I told him it was over.”

“Why didn't you try to work it out? Why didn't you ask him to leave that life?”

He shook his head. “I didn't know myself anymore. I lost it. I wanted to ... it doesn't make sense...”

“Tell me?”

“I wanted to possess him totally and I thought that if I did that, I'd have the rest of him, too. I became a mad man, I didn't know that man. I don't want to be that man, Kayla. And there he was again tonight. Every time I'm with him, I debase myself, fighting with his lover. Damn, how immature. And I'm a cop, Kayla, how does that look for a cop to be fighting with his ex lovers boyfriend, an ex lover who's a prostitute?”

“Honey, I'm sorry, but you are human you know.”

He sighed. “He's not for me.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“Remember the big sex abuse case?”

“Of course.” She paused. “He was one of the boys in the...”

“He was an adult waiting for placement and I didn't lay a hand on him in there. So you can relax.”

“Thank God. How come you never asked him to give up the life when you were seeing him? Didn't you even discuss it?”

“I had no right to.”

“Yes, you did,” Kayla looked at him. “You were in love. He loved you, too, right?”

“He said he did,” Gian shook his head. “But I doubt it.”

“Why would you doubt it? Gian, you are worthy of love. I thought the counselling cleared all that up when you were a teenager?”

“It's never cleared up,” he scoffed. “Counselling makes it tolerable and that's another thing ... Cory doesn't think he needs help. All his life he's been used for sex, that's all he knows. We could never have a relationship unless he is willing to acknowledge that.”

“You should have insisted. Why didn't you say, if you love me, you'll give this up, get counselling, and come live with me?”

Gian put the ice back on his mouth. “Because I'm stupid maybe or ... I don't know. Now he's with that jerk. He hits him, you know?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He had a bruise over his eye. It was yellow, which meant he had a black eye a while back.”

“A john could have given it to him.”

“Yeah, but,” Gian shook his head, “he was uneasy when I asked him. He's afraid of him. And you saw what a temper that asshole had.”

“So, is that what the fight was about?”

“Not really. He didn't like me talking to Cory. He thought I was trying to hit on him.”

“Oh, so because of that, you decided to slug the guy?”

“He started it,” Gian replied angrily.

“Why don't you go and talk to Cory? He wants you, Gian. I saw it in his eyes and you want him. You could go to the Club once in awhile and—”

“I'm not going there to stalk Cory.”

“Not stalk. Just let him see you. Talk to him, Gian.”

“It's over, Kayla,” Gian muttered. “What I want now is bed.”

Kayla got out the blankets and pillows for the pullout. “We'll talk about this some more tomorrow.”

“Oh good, can't wait,” Gian replied sarcastically, and headed for his bed.

* * * *

Cory stayed at one of his friends apartments that night. When Evan was in that mood, he didn't want to be near. He'd be all cooled off tomorrow.

“How romantic,” Ray was saying when Cory told him what had happened.

“Not romantic at all,” Cory replied, making up the sofa, “scary. I was afraid he was going to get hurt.”

“Evan is a big guy. Don't worry.”

“Not Evan, Gian.”

“He's a cop. He can handle himself.”

“What is a sergeant?”

“It's a rank, I guess. Why?”

“Is it high?”

“Yeah, I think it is. In the army, they have platoons under them.”

“He never told me that,” Cory got into the bed and sighed. “I know so little about him really and yet I feel I know him inside out, does that make sense?”

“Cory, you still got it bad for that guy.” Ray sat beside him.

Cory nodded. “Can you blame me?”

“No.”

“I told him tonight that I didn't love Evan.”

“And?”

“He said, I don't give a fuck, in his usual sarcastic way,” Cory tried to imitate Gian's deep voice, making it sound surly, which caused Ray to laugh. “He was angry. And you should have seen him when the cops showed up. Damn, he's so cocky. I thought he was going to get hauled into jail talking to the cops the way he did. But the cops were embarrassed when he asked them if they wanted his badge number.”

“I bet.”

“There was a change in tone. But now he's got to pay for the damages in that place and he didn't even start the fight. Evan started the fight. I'm so miserable.”

“Well, I don't think he's very happy either. Don't give up, Cory. If he didn't still care, that fight wouldn't have happened, right?”

Cory half nodded. “Maybe.”

“You said he intends on still going to that Club, you'll see him again. If you love each other, it will be okay in the end.”

“You're a hopeless romantic with your head in the clouds. And I don't want him to go to that place. I don't want him fighting with Evan. He could get hurt. And I can't bear seeing him. It's physically painful. I love him so much. When he left me that night, he ripped my heart to shreds.”

“Then don't let him go,” Ray told him.

“Oh Ray, we were mismatched from the beginning. You know how we met, he came into Beaconsfield undercover. You know he's such an honourable guy. He never touched me once in there, not once, although I was an adult. He told me later that he wanted to, said he was saint.”

Ray gave him a compassionate look. “But that's the past. He came to you right after you met up again. He came to you. He wanted you.”

“Yes, but he paid as if he were a customer. I never understood that. I still have every cent he gave me and you know, I'm going to give it back to him,” Cory said stubbornly. “I didn't make love with him for money. I made love with him because I wanted him. I wanted him the minute I saw him. I still do.”

Cory kept talking, telling Ray about things that happened at Beaconsfield, moments that he tucked away. Ray sat with him until the wee hours of the morning talking, until he finally fell asleep.

* * * *

Gian was busy at work. Fall had arrived and people were doing stupid things. Halloween was just around the corner and Gian had been invited to a party, which he couldn't attend because he was working. He did go out for a drink after work and he ran smack into Jeremy. They talked for a while over a beer.

“I'm on my own now,” Jeremy informed him.

Gian really wished he could give a damn. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Why did we break up anyway?”

Gian watched Jeremy's hand move across the bar toward his. “You didn't like me being a cop, remember?”

“Pretty stupid reason. You look good, Gian. I miss you. Do you want to come back to my place for a ... drink?”

Gian moved his hand just as Jeremy went to touch it. “No,” he said. “I'm tempted, but I can't go there again.” He left Jeremy at the bar and walked home. It was one of those beautiful autumn nights where a light jacket was all you needed. He stood looking out over the Hudson River for the longest time. He felt little joy.

He remembered the last time he saw Cory. It was almost four months ago to this day. That was when he had gotten into that huge fight with his boyfriend. He had made the last payment this month on the two thousand dollars in damages he owed to the Club owner. Evan probably should have paid some, but it would have been too much trouble to ask.

He looked at his watch. It was after midnight. He started to head home, then changed his mind and headed for the village. Maybe checking out guys would distract him. He needed something to distract him. He regretted not going home with Jeremy for a moment. He could have been in a nice warm bed right now making love instead walking around the New York City streets all alone.

He walked into the nearest gay bar and sat down. Within minutes, three guys had come over and tried to pick him up. He was polite, but told them he'd rather be alone. A half hour later, he left, bored. He considered taking a taxi home, then changed his mind. He walked. It took him over an hour.

When he arrived at the corner of his street, he noticed that someone was sitting on the steps. As he got closer, he recognized the guy as Ray, one of Cory's closest friends. What in hell did he want? His first thought was that something had happened to Cory.

“Gian,” Ray stood as he came to the steps. “Do you remember me?”

“Yes. I remember you. Is Cory all right?”

“Yeah, he's fine. Look, I came by to give you this,” he handed him a package. “Took us awhile to figure out where you lived so...” he paused “Cory wanted you to have this, months ago. He thought you could use it to pay for the damages to the Club.”

Gian looked at it. “What is it?”

“Money.”

“I don't want his money,” Gian protested, handing it back.

Ray pushed it at him again. “It's not his money. It's your money.”

Gian narrowed his eyes. “How did you find me anyway?”

“Wasn't easy.”

Gian opened the envelope. It was full of one hundred dollar and fifty dollar bills. “Where did he get all this?”

“From you,” Ray insisted.

“I don't get it. Where is he?”

“Cory?”

“Ya, Cory. Where is he ... with that jack off Evan piece of garbage?”

Ray nodded. “At the Stud.”

“Where you going anyway?” Gian asked him.

“Anywhere you're going, sweetie” he smiled at him.

“I mean, are you going back there, too?”

“Ya. Unless,” he looked up at the building, “you need a lube job or something.”

“No, thanks. I'm fine for now. I'll get the car and drive you back.” He tucked the envelope inside his jacket and hunted for his car keys. He pulled the car around front and Ray jumped in.

* * * *

As Gian drove out into the road, Ray watched him. He looked at his hands as they sat casually on the wheel. He was a very masculine guy, rugged and strong. He wouldn't have wanted to be a criminal that he was after. He was extremely good looking and sexy, but without really trying to be, he just was. “You know,” Ray said suddenly, “Cory loves you.”

“Ray,” Gian replied in that deep voice of his, watching his rear view mirror as he changed lanes, “leave it alone.”

“I can't leave it alone,” Ray complained. “I'm the shoulder Cory cries on most often. I truly wish he'd forget about you.”

“I'm sure he has.”

“No,” Ray shook his head. “Believe me, he hasn't. If he would forget about you, I'd take him in a second because he's quite wonderful. Besides, that Evan guy is a creep.”

Gian glanced at him. “He hits him, doesn't he?”

“Not all the time. When he's drunk. When he's sober, he's not that bad, but Cory can do better than that.”

“Bastard,” Gian hissed. “If he wants to hit someone, he can try hitting me.”

“I hear he already did that,” Ray laughed.

“But I was still standing afterward and he wasn't.”

“Cory told me about it. He thought Evan was going to hurt you. He was pretty scared that night.”

“He needn't have worried.”

“I told him that. I think Cory forgets you're a cop sometimes. Of course, very few cops we ever saw looked liked you.”

Gian pulled the car into the parking lot of the Stud bar without comment.

Ray got out and ran into the bar. He wanted to warn Cory that Gian was here. “Cory,” Ray said, pulling him up from where he sat at a table near the bar. “Where's Evan?”

“Playing pool, why? What's wrong?”

“Cause Gian is here.”

Cory swallowed. “He is? Where?”

“Yes. He—”

* * * *

“What in hell is this all about?” Gian was standing in front of him suddenly. He threw the envelope down on the table.

“Hi, Gian,” Cory said softly. “How are you?”

“Never mind how I am. What is all this money for?”

“It's yours,” Cory told him. “It's all the money you paid me to have sex with you. I never touched a cent of it.”

“Why?”

“Why didn't I spend it or why did I give it back?” Cory asked him quietly.

“Both,” Gian replied hotly.

“I couldn't take money for something I wanted that badly.” He stood and came a little closer. “I wanted you,” Cory told him, meeting his eyes. “You never had to pay for it. I thought the money would help you pay for the damages at that Club. You didn't start the fight.”

“Neither did you,” he accused.

He put his head down.

“Anyway ... do something with it,” Gian said, shaking his head. “Take a trip somewhere. Buy a new boyfriend.”

Cory picked up the envelope and held it out to him. “Are you for sale?” His eyes were red with unshed tears.

“No, sorry.”

“I think you better go because Evan is here somewhere and he won't be happy to see you,” Cory picked up his drink and downed it. It looked like he'd need another as soon as Gian walked out the door.

Gian nodded. “Yeah, you're right. I don't feel like getting into it tonight with your lover.” He left the envelope on the table and walked away.

* * * *

Ray came over and put his arm around his shoulder. Silent tears streamed down his face.

Then Cory stiffened as he saw Evan coming toward them, his face full of rage. “Was that who I think it was?” He yelled, grabbing Cory and dragging him in the direction of the back door.

* * * *

Gian was just about to get into his car when he heard yelling and swearing. He paused and then ran across the street and around to the alley.

“Please, honey,” it was Cory's voice. “He came in by accident, police business, nothing more. He wasn't here to see me, honest. It's over between us, really ... please Evan...”

“Don't Evan. He's telling the truth,” Ray was pleading. “There is nothing between them anymore.”

Gian walked steadily down the alley, his footsteps echoing on the pavement.

Ray turned around. “Thank God,” he said, running up to him. “You got to stop him. He's gone mad. You got to stop him,” he said frantically, pulling on Gian's arm.

Gian gave him a look which said, be still. Ray backed up to the wall and stayed there.

Cory was on the ground, his mouth was bloody. His shirt was torn open, his pants undone.

“I can do you in a way that you won't remember him no more,” Evan slurred with his drunken voice, trying to turn Cory over on top of a heap of garbage bags as he continued to struggle against him.

“I don't think so,” Gian said loudly, his voice echoing in the alleyway.

Evan paused. He turned around, releasing Cory. His pants were open, his eyes bloodshot. He swayed on his feet.

“I think you'd have to be damn good at it for him to forget about me, and looking at you now and at the size of that dick, I'd say you didn't stand a chance.”

“You son of a bitch. I'm going to finish you off,” he growled. “Sniffing around what belongs to me, eh? Go find your own whore!”

Gian laughed. “Come on, Evan, come and get me if you're man enough.”

Cory stood and wiped the blood off his mouth. “Gian,” he warned. “Don't. Just go home and...”

Evan took out a knife. The steel glinted in the moonlight.

Gian laughed. “Ooooo.... I'm scared now.”

“You're a cocky bastard, aren't you?” He made a threatening move toward Gian.

“You're hurting my feelings, Evan. You do realize that if you come at me with that knife, you are attacking a police officer. You can go to jail for that.”

“Well what about murdering a police officer, can I go to jail for that?” He screamed and made a lunge for him.

* * * *

Cory turned away, clutching Ray's arm. “Call the police.”

Ray ran inside.

Cory saw the blade swipe through the air. There was blood and lots of grunts and curses as the two men rolled around on the pavement together. They struggled with the blade back and forth. Blood flew through the air and as Cory tried to move closer to see what was happening, it splattered all over him. Cory screamed into the silent night. People from the bar were outside now, watching.

“Someone, do something,” Cory pleaded, but no one moved. And after what seemed like eternity, there were sirens. Evan staggered to his feet while Gian lay still on the pavement. Blinded by tears, he tried to find his way to Gian, but Ray grabbed him and pulled him back.

“No,” he cautioned.

Suddenly, he saw Gian move. He reached out and grabbed Evan's ankle. With a grunt, he pulled him face down on the pavement. He was on top of him now, pulling his arm tight across his back, holding him still.

Police were running down the alley. They pulled Gian up off Evan who had now lost consciousness. “Get an ambulance,” one officer called.

Cory put a trembling hand over his mouth as he saw the pool of blood spreading out over the pavement. At first he thought it was coming from Evan, but then he realized as they lifted Evan into the ambulance that it wasn't. He gasped as he looked over to where Gian was standing with a police officer. His face was covered with blood. His forehead was coated with it and it was even in his eyes.

Bobby Denardo pulled up now to the curb and came racing down the alley. “Gian,” he cried out. “Christ, are you all right?”

Gian nodded, leaning against the wall.

Cory and Ray came over to stand beside him.

“Gian,” Cory said, taking off his shirt, “you should sit down or something.” He started wiping blood off Gian's face who was protesting that he was fine. As soon as Cory had wiped the blood away, his face was covered in blood again.

Bobby Denardo stepped closer to Gian. “There's too much blood,” he said.

“Where's it coming from?” Cory demanded frantically, looking at Bobby Denardo, who was inspecting Gian's head.

Denardo checked his forehead, then his eyes widened. “Jesus, Gian, we got to get you to the hospital.”

Cory saw that he had a gash in his head filled with blood that just kept pouring out of the wound in thick sticky drops. Cory's heart beat wildly. “Fuck, fuck,” he said.

“I'm fine,” Gian said weakly. He took a step, but then fell to his knees.

Cory went down beside him. “My God, My God, baby,” he whispered. He rolled up the bloody shirt he had been wiping his face with and pressed it to his head. “Where's the ambulance?” he cried out. “Why in the hell didn't they do something when they were here?”

Bobby sucked in some air. “Because this guy here thinks he's immortal and probably told them he was okay.” He pulled Gian up onto his feet. “Keep the pressure on his head, Cory. I'm taking him to the hospital. He's losing too much blood. He could go into shock.”

They half carried him to the car. His head hung limply back. He was weak, but he was still conscious. Cory supported his neck and shoulders as Bobby Denardo took the second half of him.

Cory got in the back seat, pulling Gian with him. Bobby pushed the rest of him in. Cory laid Gian's head on his chest where he kept pressing his shirt to it. The blood was pouring down his face again now.

“Keep him talking. Don't let him pass out. He's lost a lot of blood,” Bobby told him from the front seat. He threw the siren up on top of the car and peeled out into traffic.

Cory cradled Gian's head against him. With one hand, he stroked his hair that was now matted with blood and pressed the shirt against his head with the other. Cory wiped away the streams of blood that ran down his face. All that blood scared him. He couldn't remember being this scared before. He wanted to pray, but he didn't know how. He couldn't think.

He pressed Gian closer, kissed his cheek and rocked him like one would a small child. “Now, Gian, stay awake,” Cory insisted. “Don't pass out on me.”

He heard him mumble, “I'm okay.”

“Good. You're my tough boy, my hero ... my love.” He kissed his head. “I love you so much,” he whispered hoarsely, trying not to cry. “Did you hear me? I said I love you.... I can't live without you, so don't you die on me, you bastard. Talk to me.” He shook him a little, crying now. Cory was now covered in his blood.

Gian half opened his eyes. “You say you love me and that I'm a bastard in the same breath. Which is it?” he insisted, his voice barely audible.

“Both,” Cory looked down into his face. He held him tighter, rocking him in his arms again. “You do love me, don't you, Gian? Don't you?” He saw him nod a little, but he couldn't talk anymore and then he lay very still. “Gian, Gian,” he said. “Bobby,” Cory cried. “He's not moving. He's not talking.”

“Hold on, hospital is around the corner. Don't die on me, Gian! Don't you die on me!” Bobby was shouting, pounding the steering wheel with his fists as he peeled into the hospital parking lot on two wheels. “Jesus,” he yelled, almost colliding with an ambulance. He jumped out of the car and yanked open the door in the back seat. “Get somebody to help me.”

A few minutes later, Gian was on a stretcher being whisked into the emergency.

Cory couldn't move. He sat there in the back seat of that car, thinking about all the time they had wasted. Gian had said he loved him, at least he'd nodded when he asked him. Now, he was going to lose him, all because he had gotten involved with that idiot Evan.

He took a breath and got out of the car. He walked into the emergency room as if in a dream. Everything swam around him. Nothing seemed real. He sat on a bench and put his face in his hands. He knew he must have been a sight with no shirt on, his chest and pants covered in blood. People looked at him in horror. But he didn't care. His whole world was coming to an end.

Bobby Denardo came down the hall a little while later.

Cory stood, anxiously. “How is he? Was he conscious?”

“I don't think so,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “At least he wasn't when they brought him in.”

Bobby Denardo's shirt and pants were soaked with blood, too. Cory noticed that there was a trail of it down the hallway. A janitor appeared suddenly with a mop and a pail and began to clean it up.

Cory sat back down.

Bobby sat beside him, putting his head back, closing his eyes. “Do you mind if I ask what's been going on between the two of you?”

Cory heard his voice suddenly and it brought him back to the present. “The first time I saw Gian,” Cory said, “was at Beaconsfield, which of course you would know right, since you worked on that case.”

Bobby opened his eyes and leaned forward. “I know where you know him from, but what's happened since then?”

“He hasn't told you?” Cory looked at him.

“He doesn't talk about his romantic involvements with me. He did introduce me to Jeremy once but—”

“Who's Jeremy?” Cory asked, blinking.

“A fire fighter he was involved with for awhile. Jeremy lived at his place most of the time, but it didn't work out and he moved out.”

“Do you know why?” Cory asked.

“I think it's because of the job. It's very hard to have a steady relationship with anyone, gay or straight.”

Cory thought about that for a minute. “You're right. It must be tough. Was he in love with him?”

“With Jeremy? I don't know. Like I said, Gian doesn't say much. Don't get me wrong, he's not in the closet, he just doesn't bring it up. Everyone on the force knows he's gay. It took a lot of guts for him to come out like that, but he's a tough guy. You got to respect him. He grew up rough.”

“Wasn't he adopted by the police captain?”

“Later in life, but he was getting into trouble left and right when he was a kid. He lost his parents young and was taken in by his uncle. Guess it didn't work out there.”

“His uncle molested him,” Cory said.

“How do you know that?”

“He told me. He used to come into his room when he was eleven and that's why he was acting out. He talked about it when we were ... well, seeing each other.”

“So there is something going on.”

Cory nodded. “We were lovers for a while, then he just said he didn't want to see me anymore.”

“Why?”

“It could have been because of what I do, but he swore that didn't bother him. I would have given it all up if he'd asked me.”

“But he didn't?”

“No.” Cory sighed. “Now I could lose him. I love him, Bobby,” Cory looked at him, fighting the tears. “I love him.”

Just then, he saw the Captain come down the hall followed by a middle-aged blonde woman.

“Where is he, Bobby? Where is Gian? Is it bad?” Clint insisted, glancing at Cory.

“They're working on him now.”

“What happened?” Sam urged. “He wasn't even working, was he?”

“No. He was off,” Bobby said.

“How bad is he, Denardo, be honest?” Clint insisted.

“He has a head injury, he's lost a lot of blood and he was unconscious by the time we got him here.”

Sam started to cry.

Clint hugged her. “Who is responsible for this? Who did this?”

“He got into a fight with a guy at a bar. He...”

Cory stood, his knees weak. “He was protecting me from my boyfriend. Evan had a knife and—”

“Who in the hell are you?” Clint demanded, not recognizing Cory.

“Don't you remember the Beaconsfield case, Clint?” Bobby urged.

“That was a long time ago. Are you working the streets now?” He demanded.

Cory nodded, ashamed.

“And what in hell was Gian doing at the Stud Bar? He doesn't hang out there now, does he?” Clint barked.

“It's hard to explain. I don't really know, Clint.” Bobby shook his head.

Clint took his wife's hand. “Come on, we're going to try and find out what in hell is going on.”

They took off down the hallway.

Cory sat back down, Bobby beside him. They said nothing. There was nothing left to say.

The night turned into morning and Cory paced the hallway. He went to the chapel and tried to ask God to save Gian, but he didn't know how. In the end, he simply said, “Please.”

The Captain and his wife sat still without speaking, in the waiting room. Bobby fell off to sleep at one time, then woke up and went to get coffee for everyone.

Clint called his daughter early in the morning on his cell phone. She was finishing her last semester in law school. He told her not to panic, that he would keep her informed.

Cory could hear her crying on the other end of the line from where he stood several feet away.

Finally at around nine o'clock, a doctor came down the hall. “Are you the family of the young police officer with the head injury?”

Clint stood, Sam with him, her knees trembling. “Yes. Is he going to be all right?”

Bobby and Cory came closer.

“The upside is that we managed to stabilize him. He lost a lot of blood. We repaired the gash to his head. The danger was that he would go into shock, but he's a really tough young man. Unfortunately, he's still unconscious.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked, her eyes narrowing.

“We're not sure. We will have to wait and see.”

“Is he in a coma?” Clint demanded anxiously.

“We don't know if we can call it that yet. He's ... ah ... just not awake yet.”

“I don't understand,” Sam insisted. “Are you saying he might not wake up at all?”

“It's too early to tell,” the doctor shook his head. “I'm sorry.”

“Can we see him?” Sam asked.

“In a couple of hours,” the doctor said.

Cory walked away quickly. He ducked into a bathroom and cried. He could hear Clint, his wife and Bobby Denardo talking low, trying to reassure each other. When Cory came out of the bathroom, Clint was on his cell phone calling Kayla again.

Cory left the hospital five minutes later, walking and walking. He didn't even know what happened to Evan and he didn't wait to find out. When he arrived at the apartment, he packed all his clothes and went back to the hotel where he had stayed before. He sat in his room all day, trying to decide where to go from here. He knew one thing, this was a turning point in his life. He was getting out of the business and he was going to take that counselling he'd been offered before. He also knew that he didn't want to live his life without Gian and that no matter what, he was going to stay by his side.

He changed his clothes, took a shower and went back to the hospital.

When Cory asked if he could see Gian, he was told it was family only. He waited in the hallway. No one came to tell him anything and he had no right to ask. But he was going to stay here in this hallway for as long as it took.

Clint and Sam went in and out of intensive care. They didn't say anything to him, but they noticed that he had been there all day and half of the evening. Cory noticed that sometimes they were crying when they came out. This upset him.

Finally he got enough courage to approach the Captain. “Can you tell me how he is please, Sir?” Cory enquired, wringing his hands in anticipation.

“He's weak and he...” he paused, taking a breath. “He hasn't opened his eyes.”

“What do the doctors say?” Cory urged.

“The doctors think he will wake up eventually, but they can't say for sure. For now, we have to wait and see.”

“He's not in a coma, is he?” Cory asked, searching Clint's face.

“They're not calling it that but...” Clint shook his head, unable to go on. He put up a hand and walked away, disappearing down the hall.

Cory sat down. He had a terrible headache. He just needed to see him, to make sure he was all right, but that was impossible right now. Suddenly he looked up to see Gian's sister running down the hall. She had a flight bag slung over her shoulder. When she saw Cory, she said, “Where is he? Where's my brother?”

“Down the hall in Intensive Care. Your mother is with him now.”

She continued on past him, running.

Cory got up and paced again. It was almost midnight. A few minutes after Kayla went in, she came out crying.

Cory asked her if she was all right.

She wiped her eyes and nodded.

“How is he?”

“He just lies there. He doesn't open his eyes. Doctors don't say anything.”

She looked at Cory. “What happened?”

“He got into it again with Evan. You remember the first time?” Cory asked her.

Kayla met his eyes. “What in hell is wrong with you? Why are you still with that guy?”

“I'm not. I left him,” Cory hung his head.

“Why was he fighting with him this time?” Kayla demanded. “I thought it was over between you?”

“He was trying to protect me. Evan was drunk and he was trying to rape me in an alley. It was my fault, Kayla, my fault that he was even there at all. He came to give me back the money.” Cory ran a hand though his hair, tears standing in his eyes. He was exhausted and drained emotionally. He felt like curling up in a corner somewhere and just dying.

“What money?” she demanded.

“The money he paid me for sex,” Cory replied, meeting her eyes. He expected her to be shocked, but she wasn't.

“Oh, that money.”

“You knew about that?” Cory gasped.

“He told me.”

“I kept it. I never used it. Kayla, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I love your brother.”

“I believe you,” she replied. “I told him that already.” She walked to a chair and sat. Tears streamed down her cheek.

“You did?”

“Yes. You don't hide it well,” she looked up at him. “You know what kills me is that he ... if something happens to him,” she sniffed, “he deserves to be loved. He deserves...” she started to cry. She looked up a Cory. “He loves you. Don't you know that?”

“He left me,” Cory replied, tears running down his face.

“Because he loved you,” she replied. “That's why he stopped seeing you.” She was crying again, hard this time, then she looked up and said, “You were breaking his heart.”

A wave of agony washed over him. “Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he just ask me to stop? I would have. I would have done anything for him,” Cory whispered, kneeling down beside her.

“He didn't ask you because he's too proud and because he wanted you to show him you loved him by offering to give up that life. You need counselling, but he didn't think you would do that.”

“I understand everything now, just when I might lose him. We both waited for the other one to make the first move and neither one of us did.”

Kayla wiped at her eyes again. “Go and be with him. He needs you, Cory. Dad, Mom and I ... it's not the same. He needs to know you love him.”

“I can't go in there ... I ... tried. They won't let me,” Cory said, frustrated.

“I'll fix it. Stay here.”

A few minutes later, she came back. “I convinced Mom and Dad to go to the cafeteria. I'll go down, too. I'll keep them there for an hour. They understand, at least a bit, but I'll make them understand more.”

Cory hugged her. “Thank you.”

“I'm not doing this for you,” she said. “I'm doing this for my brother.”

Cory walked slowly toward the intensive care. When he reached the door, he hesitated, afraid to go in. Then he took a breath and pushed open the door. He froze.

Gian was lying there, still. There were machines everywhere, one that made a constant beeping sound.

Cory came up beside him. He covered one of his hands with his own.

His head was bandaged on one side and he looked like he was sleeping.

Cory lowered his lips to his hand and kept them there, pressing his cheek against it. He didn't know where all the tears were coming from, but they poured down his face now, dropping on the blanket. He felt his chest heave as he sobbed. Then he raised his head and looked at his face. He traced a finger across his jaw, then pressed his lips against his mouth. He smoothed back some of his hair, placing his face against his.

“So,” Cory managed to say aloud, “this is how you repay me.” His voice shook. “Is this my punishment? Well, have to hand it to you, it's a hell of a good one.” He licked his lips. “I was thinking about the first time we met today and how all the boys were making so much out of you. I saw you through the window and you looked so handsome in the sunlight with that stupid uniform on.” He laughed a little. “I never saw a guard look so sexy in those horrible brown uniforms. Bet you hated wearing that because you dress so well.”

He stopped, taking a breath, his chest hurt from crying. “Anyway, if I never told you how grateful I am for all those times you protected my butt up at Beaconsfield and of course ... this time, too.... well, thank you.” He stopped talking, looking at the monitor. He closed his eyes. “And ... ah...” he began again, his voice shaking so much he could hardly get the words out, “and ah ... all that time we ... spent together.... I can't believe you ... well God ... you must have known how much I...” He put his head down. “All I've ever wanted is you, Gian, and if I'm a screw up, I'll try to do better. I'll do what ever you want ... just don't leave me. Don't leave me.” He was crying on his hand.

A very low and weak voice said, “Well, you can stop shaking my bed for starters.”

Cory raised his head. Gian's eyes were open. He was looking at him. Oh, those beautiful brown eyes. How happy he was to see them. Cory brushed his tears out of the way so he could look at him. “You're awake!” Cory kissed his hand and then he began to laugh. He looked at the ceiling. “Thanks,” he said.

“Shush, not so loud,” Gian said. “I don't want them all in here poking and prodding me again. And who's up there on the ceiling that you got to be thanking?”

Cory started to laugh. “Never mind. How do you feel?”

“How do you think I feel?” He lifted an eyebrow.

Cory grinned. “Stupid question?”

“Tell me about it,” he replied with a groan. Then he paused. “So, did you mean all that?”

“You heard everything I said?”

“Most of it. Think I woke up just about the time you tried to tell me that you loved me.”

Cory laid his head beside his on the pillow for a minute. “Oh, well I do, I do, baby,” he whispered.

Gian smiled. “And then there was that part about how you'd spent the rest of your life being my slave as punishment for—”

“I don't remember that!” Cory protested, laughing. “I never said such a thing.”

“Ah ... well, I guess I'll have to pass out again,” he looked at him through one eye.

“Okay, okay, I'll do it,” Cory kissed his mouth. “Anything you want, just tell me you love me.”

“I love me,” he teased.

“Me!” Cory demanded.

“I love you,” he said. “You'll come and live with me now and no one gets to touch you, but me.”

Cory nodded. “I've never wanted anyone, but you.”

“We'll find you something to do where you can't get into trouble and I can keep an eye on you. And you will go for counselling.”

“Yes, anything.” He pressed his lips to his temple. “I'm not going to mind you keeping an eye on me. I'm going to keep an eye on you, too. You're no angel.”

Gian grinned. “I can't be anything else right now. Cory, about my job. You know that my job is a pain. I—”

“Don't worry about that. I'll learn to fret over you and miss you, but I'll never stop loving you, I promise you that. I know it won't be easy sometimes.”

Gian squeezed his hand. “Good enough,” he winked.

“Now I think I should call in the doctor, okay?” Cory suggested.

Gian nodded. “But don't go anywhere.”

“Try and make me,” Cory blew him a kiss.

When the doctor came in, he smiled at Gian. “Looks like you've come back to the land of the living. You had us worried there for awhile, kid.”

“Kid,” Gian mouthed, looking over at Cory.

Cory burst into laughter.

“I'll go and tell your family,” Cory said. “I know they're worried.”

“Thanks,” Gian said, smiling at him.

Cory ran down the hall and slid on his two feet right up to the door leading to the stairs. He was on top of the world. The nurses gave him an odd look, but he didn't give a damn. He ran down six flights of stairs to the cafeteria. “He's awake,” Cory said, out of breath. “He's going to be all right.”

They were all hugging.

Kayla came over and looked at him. “What about his heart, is it in good shape now?”

“It's on the mend,” Cory nodded with a wink. “I've volunteered to nurse it back to health.”

She laughed and hugged him. “Dad, Mom,” Kayla said, turning to Clint and Sam, “looks like we have a new addition to the family.

Cory was shocked. He stood frozen, not sure what they would say.

Clint smiled and patted him on the back. “Welcome, son,” he said.

Sam put an arm around Cory's shoulders. “Do you like fried chicken?”

“I ... I think so,” Cory smiled at her.

“Good, you'll fit right in.”

“Especially if you like indigestion,” Kayla whispered which made Cory laugh. “And eh ... you owe me.”

They went upstairs together and, when Gian's family walked into the room, Cory hesitated, remaining in the hall.

It was Clint that came outside and grabbed his arm. “Hey, what do you think you're doing? If you're part of this gang now, you're going to have to listen to Gian's bitching, too. We're not doing it all alone.”

* * * *

Sam was fussing over Gian, but Cory saw her freeze as he came in.

Sam nodded at Clint. “Come on, Clint,” she said, “let's go home now.”

Clint kissed Gian on the forehead. “Sounds good.”

“Kayla?” Sam motioned to the door.

Kayla laughed. “Okay.” She leaned down to kiss Gian's cheek. “You owe me big time.”

He laughed. “I'll let you take my queen,” he said.

“I already did that,” she threw back at him.

He grinned, “Oh yeah,” he waved at her.

She left without another word.

* * * *

Cory came closer. He pulled up a chair and sat close to the bed, taking Gian's hand. Gian entwined his fingers with his. “I'm going for counselling,” Cory told him.

Gian looked at him. “Good. It does help.”

“Um, but you know what really helps me put all the past demons behind me?”

“No, what?” Gian asked him softly.

“Having a man like you who makes your heart race when he walks into the room, who's loving and kind, passionate and sweet.”

He laughed. “Oh,” he said. “Introduce me to that guy one day, he sounds like a winner.”

Cory crawled up on the side of the bed and laid his head on his shoulder. He grinned, giving him a mild slap. “He is a winner.” Then he moved his hand over his chest and kissed his cheek.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah but you can't have him because he belongs to me,” Cory's voice sounded faint, sleepy.

“You should go home and get some sleep, you know,” Gian suggested softly, running his hand over his hair.

Cory yawned, settling down beside him. “I'm right where I want to be. I don't ever want to sleep without you again.”

Gian smiled and pulled him closer. “You won't ever have to,” he whispered.

[Back to Table of Contents]

About the Author

I write not only for my own pleasure, but for the pleasure of my readers. I can't remember a time in my life when I haven't written and told stories. When I'm not writing, I'm dreaming about writing, doing something wild and adventurous, or trying to make the world a better and more open minded place to live in. I adore beautiful men, and I know I'm not alone in this! Eroticism between consenting adults, in all its many forms is the icing on the cake of life!

D. J.'s website is located at:

www.djmanly.com/

Visit www.extasybooks.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.