The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 8: "While You Were Sleeping"

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Vittoria sat outside near the pool, sunbathing in the early afternoon and sipping on a cosmopolitan, her two-piece bikini showing off her voluptuous body. She really had enjoyed the few hours here and loved the luxuriance. This was truly la dolce vita, and she could get used to it if only it didn’t come with the stigma that was Callum Sutcliffe. She didn’t like him one bit. Last night he had come into her room and read her the riot act, berating her incompetence to annihilate both Allison and Chloe. The news did startle Vittoria, for she knew that Chloe was still a threat if she were alive, but she was certain no one saw her. Callum did reassure her that he would handle everything and make sure that she was not implied in the crimes. She had taken him at his word and now he was shut off from the world, working on his novel. How was he to do anything down there in the cellar?

Tristan suddenly came outside, shirtless, his chiseled pecs and washboard abs in full display. There was a panicked expression slapped on his face.

Vittoria: What the hell’s wrong with you?

Tristan: It’s gone!

Vittoria: What’s wrong?

Tristan: That fucking thing you put in the back of my car. It’s missing! Someone crashed into my car over in WEHO, and it’s pretty banged up. There’s nothing in the trunk.

Vittoria (her eyes suddenly dilated): Dio Mio!

Tristan: Exactly!

Vittoria: Do you know who could have taken it?

Tristan: Well, some kid ran his father’s car into mine. I guess the wreck happened like ten to fifteen minutes before I even came outside. Anybody could have taken it.

Vittoria: You doofus, why didn’t you get rid of it instead of carrying it around in the back of your car for over three fucking weeks?

Tristan: I didn’t have time—

Vittoria: Bullshit! (pause) What are we going to do now?

Tristan: I need to speak with Callum.

Godfrey (coming outside to bring Vittoria another drink): I’m sorry, but His Lordship is not to be disturbed while in his conclave.

Tristan: Conclave? What the hell?

Vittoria: I think he told me he would be in the basement for the next day or so.

Tristan: This isn’t some damn papal appointment ceremony. I need to speak with him now! It’s urgent!

Godfrey: Those are His Lordship’s rules, and in all my years of knowing him, he remains steadfast in his wish not to be disturbed when he’s writing any of his published works. May I pass a message along to him from you?

Tristan (panicked and fuming): No, I’ll take care of it myself.

Godfrey placed the next cosmopolitan down on the side table for Vittoria and then took his leave. Suddenly, Tristan’s phone rang. It was from Dr. Peyton Ashland, informing him the good news that Brendon Roberts had finally awakened.

Peyton: I’m sure Callum will be glad to hear that.

Tristan: Yeah, well, he’s locked up somewhere in this house, working on his novel. Apparently, he’s not to be disturbed under any circumstances for the next forty-eight hours.

Peyton: How do you know this? Are you at his house now?

Tristan: Yes, and I know what you’re thinking. It’s a long story. My apartment was broken into yesterday, and Callum offered his hospitality.

Peyton: Be careful. It starts out that way and then, well, you can imagine what comes next.

Tristan: Anyway, I’ve got to go now. Give Brendon my regards! (snapping his phone shut and beholding the blanched, scared face of Vittoria) Yeah, you heard me, Siciliana! As if our fucking day couldn’t get any better, Brendon Roberts awoke from his coma earlier this morning.

KYLE WALGROVE AND HEATH ALCOTT’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Kyle turned the key in his lock and went straight for the kitchen, his stomach fiercely growling. The door slamming shut awoke Heath from his nap on the living room sofa, and he raised his head to see his partner rush for the refrigerator.

Kyle: Hey Babe! Didn’t think you’d be home at this hour. (rummaging around inside the fridge) Where the hell is the chicken salad you made last night?

Heath: It should still be in there. I haven’t touched it.

Kyle: Damn it! There’s hardly any left. Are you sure you didn’t eat any? I thought the bowl was full when I left early this morning. I swear sometimes there’s like three people living in this house—or at least a third person eating the food. Maybe you’ve got a tapeworm.

Heath threw himself over the sofa edge and rushed over to Kyle, smacking his ass as he bent over to look further into the fridge. Kyle straightened himself and turned around in time for Heath’s lips to meet his in an unexpected kiss.

Heath: You didn’t come home for food. (his hand reaching for Kyle’s zipper) You came home for a quickie.

Kyle: Babe, I didn’t even know you were home. I thought you were at work.

Heath (successfully pulling out the head of Kyle’s penis): I quit my job.

Kyle (reactively jerking away from Heath): You what?

Heath: I got bored.

Kyle: That’s not an excuse to leave a job you’ve been at for several years. Why didn’t you tell me? We could have talked this over.

Heath (bursting into a hysterical laughter): When are you ever home for us to talk civilly about anything?

Kyle: Heath, I’m not understanding why you’re doing this. You loved being a firefighter.

Heath: Well, I was growing tired of rescuing cats stuck in trees. (moving toward Kyle) Anyway, at least you lucked out today. I can blow you before you head back to work.

Kyle: Frankly, Heath, I’m not in the mood right now. I’m still in shock that you didn’t feel like telling me first before making this big decision.

Heath (suddenly lashing out): You’re never in the mood anymore! And as for my decision, it was mine to make, and I was going to tell you last night, but you got called away once again with yet another attack in the park. I’m fucking sick of you never being here for me!

Kyle: Heath, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I (suddenly his cell phone rings… he thoughtlessly answers it as Heath stands there, fuming at his inconsiderate gesture)

Heath (upon Kyle’s snapping the phone shut): Let me guess. That was the station again, and there was a mass murder in the park this time, and you’ve got to go now.

Kyle: You’re right. That was the station, but they were calling to inform me that Brendon Roberts woke from his coma a few hours ago. I need to get to the hospital and see if he remembers anything about the attacks on him and Nathan. Don’t go anywhere this evening. We need to talk when I get back.

Heath: Fine, I’ll be here. Remember I’m unemployed now.

Kyle (walking over and surprisingly kissing him): You know I love you

As the door shut, Heath couldn’t determine if what Kyle had said was a statement or a question.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, CHLOE DALTON’S ROOM

Allison stepped into Chloe’s hospital room, observing the sweet figure at rest. She grasped Chloe’s hand and held it to her lips, lightly kissing it. Suddenly, Chloe’s eyes opened almost as if by the sheer touch had awakened her from her sleep.

Chloe (groggily): Allison?

Allison: I’m here. Don’t overexert yourself with talking.

Chloe (vision slowly adjusting to her surroundings): Where are we?

Allison: We’re in the hospital.

Chloe blinked her eyes. She tried to move in the bed but felt powerless. What was wrong?

Chloe: Why are we here?

Allison: You don’t remember our walk in the park last night. We had an accident.

Chloe: An accident?

Allison: Do you remember the horse on the horse trail?

Chloe taxed her mind to think back to her last recollection. She remembered having a nap after the argument and then slowly the remaining pieces came to her mind in fluidity. She recalled them getting into the car, riding to the park, classical music playing in the car as they turned into the park. The images of the sunset floated across her mind, along with the handholding, and then the image of them walking down the horse trails… Allison bending to tie her shoelaces… and then Allison falling over.

Chloe: Oh, my God, you were shot! I remember it now.

Allison: You don’t remember what happened afterwards?

She once more willed her mind to go back in time. She then saw the wild creature, racing toward her, her inability to move… its hooves rising upwards before they came down colliding into her…

Chloe screamed loud in that moment as if reliving it. She reached her arms out for Allison. Something was terribly wrong. She felt it now, having regained full possession of her faculties. And then the realization struck her much harder than the horse’s hooves ever could.

Chloe (alarmingly): Where’s my baby? I can’t feel my baby.

Allison: Chloe, honey, I don’t know how to tell you this, but the baby—

Chloe: Don’t say it, Allison! (tears streaming down her face)

Allison: Honey, there wasn’t anything the doctors could do to save the both of you.

Chloe: They should have saved my baby instead of me.

Allison: Honey, the fetus was only about thirteen weeks old. There was no way it would have survived without you, and you were our top priority. I was not about to lose you.

Chloe balled her hands into fists, slamming them into the bedside railings.

Chloe (screaming): Why! Why! Why is this happening to us? God knew I wanted this child so badly. Why did you have to take it away from me?

Avril Lavigne’s “Keep Holding On” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_DV_1dnGh4) begins playing softly in the background as Allison comes over to the bed, sits on it, interlacing her hands with Chloe’s.

Allison: We’ll get through this together.

Chloe: The third time’s a charm, right? Three miscarriages! I guess I’m just not fit to be a mother.

Allison: Don’t say that!

Chloe (turning over onto her side, away from Allison): Why should I even bother trying again?

Allison (sighing): Honey, there’s something else I need to tell you.

Chloe: What else is there to say?

Allison: Th-they had to perform an emergency hysterectomy.

The silence that followed was death-inducing. Chloe felt that a part of her had been taken away forever. She felt hollow in that moment. Allison attempted to reach over and wrap her arms around her, but Chloe pushed her away.

Chloe: Why did you let them do this?

Allison: Honey, there was too much internal bleeding from the accident. They had to do it.

Chloe: I can never have a baby, Allison.

She broke down and this time Allison put her arms around her, cradling the crying figure. Allison wouldn’t let her go despite Chloe attempting to push her away.

Allison: You know I’ll love you whether or not we ever have children.

There was a knock on the door before Nurse Jackson entered, duly informing Allison that Brendon Roberts finally had awoken from his three week-long coma.

Allison: Thank you, Nurse Jackson. I’ll be in to see him shortly. (turning to Chloe) Did you hear that, sweetheart? Brendon’s awake.

Chloe: That’s great. Why don’t you go check on him?

Allison (lovingly brushing hair away from Chloe’s forehead): Will you be fine? I won’t be long.

Chloe: Give him my regards.

Allison (bending down to kiss her): Be right back.

As soon as the door closed, Chloe broke into a gut-wrenching wail of misery, her hands touching her abdomen, futilely feeling for any sign of life beyond her own. She knew in her heart there was none… nor would there ever be!

BRENDON ROBERTS’ ROOM, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL

Brendon Roberts had been conscious for nearly two hours. Nathan immediately phoned the school and informed them that he would not be coming in today. He stayed next to Brendon the entire time the doctors came in to check his vitals. He wanted to call everyone and tell them the good news, but he didn’t want to move one millimeter away from Brendon. For the first few hours, Brendon didn’t speak one word, his only communication his magnetic smile. Nathan really didn’t care as long as he was alive and conscious. Allison came shortly after he had awakened, and his eyes glowed with traces of remembrance of all his loved ones. Kyle showed up shortly after lunchtime, Brendon’s megawatt smile increasing with further recognition of another face. Kyle was duly informed that Brendon had not yet started speaking when Kyle indicated that he wanted to question him about the attacks. Nathan reluctantly took Kyle outside the hospital room to engage in a chat with him.

Kyle: You must be on cloud nine now. He’s awake, and it won’t be long before he wants to run another marathon.

Nathan: Yeah, well, I’m worried about more pressing matters. What exactly am I going to tell him about Justin?

Kyle: The truth, Nathan. He’s still missing.

Nathan: Have you got any idea where he is? Any leads?

Kyle: Yesterday, we were informed of the possible identity of Justin’s drug dealer, but we haven’t been able to locate her.

Nathan: Her? It’s a woman? Who?

Kyle: Her name’s Vittoria Morelli, and here’s the grand shocker: she’s Tristan’s roommate.

Nathan: What!

Kyle: Yesterday, I spoke with Chloe, who claimed that she saw Vittoria dealing drugs to Justin the same day he eventually went missing.

Nathan: You don’t think she had anything to do with the attacks on Chloe and Allison?

Kyle: The thought did cross my mind. If Chloe positively identifies her as Justin’s dealer, she’s in hot water, especially as she’s already on parole. They’ll really throw the book at her.

Nathan (urgently): Then bring her in for questioning!

Kyle: I told you… we can’t locate her. She wasn’t over at Tristan’s last night, and no one answered the door when I went by earlier today.

Nathan: Have you checked with Tristan?

Kyle: I haven’t seen him since last night. I went by the realty company this morning, and they informed me that he no longer works for them. Now, he’s mysteriously not answering his cell.

Nathan: Well, you need to find both of them, Kyle. I have a hunch that wherever Tristan’s roommate is, that Justin is not too far from her.

HEATH ALCOTT’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Heath had taken a nap after his semi-explosive argument with Kyle but had grown restless since. He knew that Outrunners had training for both running and swimming at Lake Balboa on Monday evenings. He felt that would invigorate his spirits. He wrote Kyle a note, telling him he’d be back home by nine and to wait for him. It’ll be interesting to see how he reacts, coming home and not finding me here but having to read a note. It’ll be a taste of his own damn medicine!

Heath stepped outside onto his porch, instinctively checking the mailbox. There was the usual assortment of junk mail and bills, but there was also a large manila envelope. It oddly had no postmark and no return address but was addressed directly to him. He tore it open and pulled out a long piece of cardboard, his eyes dilating at not only the message on it but how it was conveyed.

It had definite traits of a classic poison-pen letter in spite of there being no ink used whatsoever. Instead, all the letters and words came snipped from pre-printed documents, such as newspapers and magazines, and glued to the hard surface—the mixture of black and white and color providing a kaleidoscopic horror that suddenly rattled Heath’s nerves. He no longer felt like running or swimming, but rather wanted to crawl inside himself.

The message simply stated:

YOU’RE HORNY A LOT
MUST HAVE BEEN A WHILE

I KNOW WHO’S FUCKING YOU

AND IT’S DEFINITELY NOT KYLE

DR. PEYTON ASHLAND’S OFFICE

Peyton finished with his session with a client at 2 pm, and then called his secretary, telling her to cancel the rest of his appointments. He needed time to think as his mind was a complete wreck. Both Allison and Chloe were badly injured in some attack last night in Griffith Park, and he knew Callum must have had something to do with it. Otherwise why had he so blatantly stated that I was to be his alibi? But Callum only got out the car twice, and each time was just for less than a few minutes. There’s no way that he could have run from the top of the hill all the way to the horse trails in that short time. Nevertheless, Peyton knew that providing an alibi for Callum might drive a stake into his relationship with Allison as she was hell bent on placing the blame on Callum. He began to fear Allison's wrath.

His body ached from lack of sleep, having sat in the hospital all night with Bralen, giving Allison moral support. The bad news about Chloe losing the baby really shook him to the core, and then Allison asking him if he would be there for Chloe as she knew the grief would really take its toll on her.

Damn you, Callum! I have to get that DVD! Peyton’s mind cast back to his brief conversation with Tristan this morning when he had told him that Callum would be cooped up in his house, working on his next published novel. That means that he won’t be walking freely about his house. Peyton suddenly got an idea. He needed to get over to Callum’s place. Maybe he would find a way to get into the safe with Callum none the wiser. He needed to cancel his evening appointment with Bralen as they had planned to play tennis.

Peyton: Hey, Bralen, could we reschedule our tennis match for another day?

Bralen: Sure, that’s fine. How’s Allison?

Peyton: Well, she’s got me doing stuff for her. I’m going to be Chloe’s friendly shrink.

Bralen: I feel so bad for the both of them. It’s really tragic.

Peyton: I agree. Anyway, I have to go now.

Bralen: Are you heading to the hospital? I already got a group memo from Henrietta that she’s planning a homecoming party for Brendon, and she wants to know if I want to be on the planning committee.

Peyton: Count me out on that one! I don’t want to be anywhere near that shindig, especially if Callum got that same memo.

Bralen: What’s your beef with him?

Peyton: It’s a long story. Anyway, call me later tonight. Perhaps we could “finish” what we started last night.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, MONDAY EVENING

Detective Kyle Walgrove was about to leave the hospital, not having gathered much information from Brendon Roberts who hadn’t spoken a word all day since he had awakened. He ran into Allison on his way out Brendon’s room.

Allison: Hey Kyle, I forgot to ask you if you had a chance to interrogate Callum last night.

Kyle: Yes, I did. I went over to his place, and according to him, he was with Peyton the entire evening.

Allison (shocked): With Peyton? He’s lying, Kyle.

Kyle: How do you know that?

Allison: Peyton would have told me last night if that were the case. He wouldn’t keep that from me.

Kyle: Maybe he didn’t want to add to your stress last night, knowing how much you dislike Callum.

Allison: I’m telling you that Callum is behind this! He has a grudge against me.

Kyle: Look, Allison, I spoke with Nate earlier today, and we both think that Vittoria Morelli may have something to do with this.

Allison: Who?

Kyle: Vittoria Morelli. She’s Tristan’s roommate and the person—who according to Chloe—was selling drugs to Justin. She has a lot to lose if Chloe testifies that she was the drug dealer.

Allison: Tristan wouldn’t be friends with an attempted murderer. My gut still says Callum.

Kyle: Well, there’s another person who could clear this whole mess up for us.

Allison: Who?

Kyle: The horseback rider. He was out of the operating room earlier today but was still unconscious.

Allison (jerking Kyle): What are we waiting for? I’m sure this man can identify who fired the gun.

They went to the nurses’ station to inquire about the room number for the equestrian. The man’s name was Vladimir Popov. He was on the fourth floor, which meant they would have to take the elevator down three stories. When they got to the nurses’ station on that floor, they caught it in a complete state of disarray. The patient Mr. Popov had gone missing from his room nearly an hour ago.

KYLE WALGROVE AND HEATH ALCOTT’S HOME

Heath sat on the side of his bed, his head resting in his cradled hands. A bottle of vodka sat prominently on the little bed stand. He had decided to come clean and tell Kyle the truth about Tristan. What if whoever sent that message to me sent one to Kyle as well?

Sia’s “Breathe Me” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGOhNFZmtAo) begins playing prominently in the background.

His mind racked with confusion, Heath fell asleep on the bed. He was awakened several hours later by Kyle sliding into the bed, his body giving off much heat. Heath suddenly felt Kyle’s strong hands reaching around his torso and pulling him back to where their bodies touched. Always one to sleep nude, Heath’s body had a natural reaction to the unexpected embrace. He then felt Kyle’s hand slide over his left hip on its ultimate journey to his erect cock.

Kyle (whispering into heath’s ear): Are you awake?

Heath (smiling and turning over to face Kyle): I am now.

Heath forgot all his present worries and in that moment felt sexually charged. His mouth went straight to Kyle’s neck, kissing all around it as his nose inhaled the strong manly fragrance of Kyle’s cologne, still potent after a long’s day work. Heath moved his mouth farther southward, his cheeks tickling from the sensation of Kyle’s trimmed chest hair. His lips latched onto one of Kyle’s nipples and suckled on it while his hand reached into Kyle’s underwear and began to arouse his erection.

Kyle: I’ve missed this!

Heath: Let’s take this into the shower!

Kyle (groaning): I’m feeling fine lying on my back.

Heath grabbed him and jerked him out the bed. They went into the shower, Heath turning on the hot water, and feeling it rush over their rock hard bodies. Their bodies went together, Heath slipping his tongue into Kyle’s mouth as his hands gripped onto Kyle’s firm buttocks. The passionate kissing continued until Heath erotically bit into Kyle’s shoulder. The shock resulted in a natural yelp of pain before Kyle responded defensively, taking Heath and throwing him face-forward against the shower wall, his cheek and nose nearly flattened with the impact. A fraction of a second passed before Heath felt the familiar prick of a rigid cock entering him. Heath pressed his hands against the wall to balance himself against Kyle’s firm penetrations that jarred his whole body. Kyle nibbled on the nape of Heath’s neck as he continued his ardent lovemaking.

Moans began to escape Heath’s lips, and he began breathing deeply, feeling the oncoming of his orgasm.

Heath: I love you, Tri—

He caught himself before making an error.

Kyle: What were you saying?

Heath: I said I love you… try to be harder with me.

Kyle: I’m not sure if I like this hardcore stuff you’re into. You already look as if you’ve been bruised around your neck.

Heath: I’m sexually evolving. I wish you’d go along with it.

Kyle reluctantly obliged, becoming more aggressive with Heath, pressing his body even harder into the shower wall as he gave into his lover’s demands. The tempo of the penetration became harsher and less gentle with Heath spewing inciting profanity and his moans reaching a gut-bursting upsurge, the moment crowned by his ejaculation hitting the lower wall, and being almost washed away with the pelting water of the shower fixture. His lover’s orgasm at last achieved, Kyle moved away, secretly in disgust with himself.

Heath: Aren’t you going to finish?

Kyle: I’ll do it in the morning.

Heath (disconsolately): Suit yourself.

They showered themselves in silence for the next few minutes, Heath thrilled that he was able to get Kyle to fuck him. On the other hand, Kyle wondered what had happened to the innocent man with whom he had originally fallen in love.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, TUESDAY MORNING

Vittoria and Tristan were having breakfast in the dining room, enjoying all the bounty of Callum’s wealth. Tristan had gone to the hospital last night, taking a basket of get-well-soon items to Brendon’s room under the guise of checking out his status. Brendon hadn’t spoken much, but the problem still existed. The crowbar was missing, Callum and his power were temporarily out of commission, and Brendon Roberts may testify at any moment—and neither of them was sure of what he may recall from the night of the attack.

Vittoria: Are you going back to the hospital today?

Tristan: Yeah, I have to check on Brendon. Make sure he doesn’t remember anything that may criminally indicate us.

Vittoria: I think Callum is working on that even while we speak, and he’s still in the damn cellar.

Tristan: What do you mean? What’s he done now?

Vittoria: Well, last night I thought I saw something strange. There was a man being brought into the house, and he was in a wheelchair.

Tristan: A wheelchair? Were you hallucinating? Are you taking too much of your weed?

Vittoria: Look, I know it sounds strange, but I think it was the horseback rider who was injured when I shot at Allison and Chloe.

Tristan: What the fuck? Why would he be brought here?

Vittoria: Why else? So Callum can keep him quiet about my involvement in this. I’m not even sure if the man could see me from his distance. I was well-hidden behind a huge shrub.

Tristan: Well, we’ll have to give Callum mad props for covering your ass. It really makes me wonder what else he’s got up his sleeve.

Vittoria: I was going to scout through the rest of this palace to see if I can find this man. Make sure my suspicions were correct.

Tristan: Well, you be careful. I’ve got to go job hunting now since I was fired from the realty office.

After Tristan took his leave of the property, Vittoria went scouring through most of the mansion in search of the room where the horseback rider was being kept, but to her amazement, she found someone else whose sudden appearance had her eyes nearly popping out their sockets. It was Justin! He had just come out one of the rooms and gone into the bathroom across the hall. Vittoria rushed to the closed door and anxiously awaited his exit. Once he came outside, she slipped behind him, having withdrawn a knife from her purse, dexterously positioning the blade right at his Adam’s apple.

Vittoria: You breathe one word about me dealing to you, and I’ll cut you off your dick. You hear me?

Justin: Look, I don’t know what your problem with me is. I haven’t ratted you out to the cops.

Vittoria: You won’t get the chance if I have anything to do with it.

Justin: Why are you doing this?

Vittoria: They’re trying to put the blame on me for your supposed “disappearance.” All the while, you’ve been here luxuriating in this mansion.

Justin: It was Callum’s idea. Besides, I don’t want to go back there anyway. I can’t stand Nathan.

Vittoria (finally lowering the knife): Well, you’re eventually gonna have to be “found” so that the heat can be taken off me. Just remember when you reunite with your family, I didn’t deal you any drugs.

Justin (being shoved away): Okay, whatever!

He marches off and heads down to the pool. It was then that he realized that he had to get away from the mansion, particularly as his life may be in danger.

BRALEN JONES’ APARTMENT, SANTA MONICA

He is on the phone with Allison Trudeau.

Bralen: My evening was awful. Peyton canceled his tennis and dinner date with me. We were on the phone some last night, but he got called away on an emergency. One of his patients attempted suicide.

Allison: Not to make light of a serious subject, but perhaps Peyton should take a page from his patient and try to end it himself, because I’m livid with him for not telling me that he was with Callum last night.

Bralen: I’ll warn him to watch out for you.

Allison: He can’t avoid me. We both work at the same place, although I’ll be on hiatus for awhile until I recover. Anyway, now that I’ll be spending more time away from work, I can get around to interviewing you for the club newsletter.

Bralen: Sorry to cut this short, Allison, but I’ve got to get some training in this morning. I’m dead set on bringing home gold from Beijing.

Allison: The whole Outrunners club will be proud of you no matter what you bring home.

Bralen: Hopefully, the medal comes with a hot swimmer stud.

Allison (laughing): Bye Bralen!

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, SAME TIME

Having ended her phone call with Bralen Jones, Allison went back to check on Chloe, who was asleep. She then went to Brendon’s room as the nurses had already been talking about how Brendon Roberts had regained some of his motor abilities and had already verbally asked for Nathan.

Allison (entering his room): How are you today, soldier?

Brendon: I’m fine. Feeling a little groggy! Where’s Nathan?

Allison: I think he’s on his way. I know he has to go to the academy today to finalize commencement preparations.

Brendon: Have I been out that long? It’s late June already?

Allison (seeing Peyton outside the room): Hang on, Brendon. I’ll be back. Why don’t you occupy yourself with reading some of those cards and gifts on the stand next to your bed?

Brendon (looking at the overabundance of cards and gifts): Wow, I wouldn’t have imagined I had this much support from LA Outrunners. I thought I was considered a tyrannical president.

Allison (exiting): Be right back. (accosting Peyton outside) What the hell were you thinking?

Peyton: What are you talking about?

Allison: Were you with Callum last night?

Peyton (feeling cornered): Yes, Allison, I was with Callum right up until I got the call that you were at the hospital with Chloe.

Allison: Were you with him the entire evening until that point? Did he ever leave you for an extended period of time?

Peyton: A-Allison, I think you need to—

Allison: Don’t think, Peyton! Just tell me the truth! Are you covering for Callum’s involvement in what happened to me and Chloe at the park?

Peyton: No, I knew nothing of what happened to you two.

Allison: Peyton, God so help you if you’re lying…

Peyton: Allison, I would never betray you…

Allison: Then why didn’t you tell me last night you were with Callum?

Peyton: I think right now you should be concerned with Chloe.

Allison: I am concerned with Chloe, and I want to bring to justice the asshole that did this to her. Do you know she can no longer have children? They had to perform an emergency hysterectomy.

Peyton: Oh, Allison, had I known that, I would have—

Allison: You would have what? Stopped Callum before he had gone too far?

Peyton: I didn’t know… Oh, Allison, I’m so sorry… I thought we were going for a ride.

Allison: Ride? Where? (suddenly dawning on her) Were you at the park last night?

Peyton (growing hesitant): Allison, I think you should—

Allison: Fuck what you think I should do! Answer the goddamn question, Peyton! Were you at the park last night with Callum?

Peyton (running his hand through his hair): I was with him the entire time. He couldn’t have done what you’re accusing him of…

Allison: You’re covering for him. Why? Why would do this when you know what he’s cost both me and Chloe?

Peyton: I’m only telling the truth, Allison. He couldn’t have done what you’re saying…

Allison (belligerently walking up to his face): Oh yeah, well, I could tell the truth about you to the medical board…

Suddenly, Kyle comes around the corner to inadvertently witness the scene.

Peyton: Allison, you know you can’t do that!

Allison: Why not? You want me to lie for you just like you’re lying for Callum? What has he got on you, Peyton, besides the obvious? He’s blackmailing you, isn’t he?

Peyton: Don’t be paranoid, Allison. All I’m saying is that he couldn’t have shot you and fired at Chloe.

Allison: Just know that I’ll do everything within my power to stop you if you’re covering for him. One word from me about your past with him and you’re done for…

Kyle (clearing his throat as a sign of his entrance): Allison, is there a problem?

Allison (turning around to face him): No, Kyle, why do you ask?

Kyle: It just looks a bit awkward, the way you’re lashing out at Peyton. Is this about his evening with Callum Sutcliffe last night? I told you already that we’re following up another lead.

Peyton: Like I said, Callum couldn’t have done it.

Allison: Butt out, Peyton! (to Kyle) Fine, you and LAPD do what you have to… follow what leads you may have, but I know that Callum is behind this! Anyway, I need to check on Brendon.

She leaves them and heads down the hall to Brendon’s room. Kyle stares at Peyton.

Kyle: You all right? What was that about?

Peyton: Nothing. You know Allison’s temper.

Kyle: Okay then. I’ll see you later. Take it easy!

Peyton (taking out his cell and dialing): Hey, Drake, I wanted to ask you about your background in the locksmith industry.

Allison walked back into Brendon’s room, agitated to her core. Brendon was in the bed, propped against the pillows, his face in a downright state of perplexity and bewilderment.

Allison: Brendon, what’s wrong?

Brendon: W-What’s this?

The cards and get-well-soon gifts were littered about the cover of the bed, and he was staring intensely at something that looked like photos in his hands. Allison journeyed over to him to get a better look, immediately wishing she hadn’t once the images had taken hold of her vision. They were pictures of Nathan and Callum together outside the Starbucks in West Hollywood. One photo showed Callum holding Nathan’s hand across the tabletop, and the other showed Nathan and Callum kissing.

Brendon’s eyes burned into the images, his mind feverishly searching for possible answers. He looked up at Allison, whose own stare of disbelief coincided with his. At precisely that moment, Nathan entered the room.

TO BE CONTINUED…

The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 7: "Lost and Found"

The somber sound of Portishead’s “Roads” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8us3432lh4M) plays over the following three scenes:

Vittoria Morelli sits quietly in her parked car on Callum’s estate, pondering her next move. She had followed his orders and came straight there from Griffith Park, immediately comforted seeing Tristan’s car in the garage. He would be inside awaiting her arrival. Picking up her purse weighted down with the firearm inside, she took it out and wiped away any fingerprints left on it. She had done the job, and without Chloe’s testimony, there was no way the cops could erroneously link Vittoria to Justin Roberts’ disappearance in spite of her being his drug dealer. However, in that moment, Vittoria’s conscience felt a spasm of remorse for having innocently killed the woman’s partner.

Nathan Moynihan finishes reading a sweeping emotional passage from the book Our Autumnal Youth and has placed the book down, knowing the true identity of its author as Callum Sutcliffe, an individual whose lips he sinfully touched just the other day. He pulls the covers of the bed closer to him and tries his best to think of his partner Brendon Roberts, grasping the nearest picture of him and hugging it close to his heart. He fruitlessly attempts to fall asleep and dream of his times with Brendon, yet in that moment, he felt powerless and found himself desirous of a physical connection—the most recent one having been with Callum.

Two gurneys are separately loaded into the back of an ambulance—the first one with Allison Trudeau, strapped down and wounded with bloodstained clothing around her shoulder, her voice issuing demands to the paramedics to do all they can to save the life of her partner Chloe Dalton, who rests on the other gurney, completely unconscious. The ambulance rushes out Griffith Park and in the direction of Hollywood Hospital. In that moment, Allison cries out the name of her lover, hoping that she’ll answer but nothing so much as a whisper comes back to her.

ONE HOUR LATER, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL

Allison Trudeau is walking outside the operating room, her shoulder and arm in a sling. Her colleague Dr. Preston comes outside to talk with her.

Dr. Preston: Allison, you really shouldn’t be out here pacing. Your shoulder is not—

Allison: To hell with my shoulder! You can get the bullet out later. I have to operate on her…

Dr. Preston: Allison, you know we can’t allow you to do that. We’ve got an excellent staff of surgeons who will take good care of Chloe.

Allison: Just save her and the baby! Please… (breaking down) I can’t believe this is happening.

Dr. Preston (placing a hand on her): You need to get some rest. You’ll be prepped for surgery soon.

Allison: Just save them! They’re all I have…

At that moment, Kyle Walgrove comes down the hall. Allison rushes to him.

Allison: Oh, Kyle, I’m so glad you’re here.

Dr. Preston: We’re going to start surgery on Chloe now. Please take it easy, Allison.

Allison (turning away from Kyle): Just remember what I told you. Save them!

Kyle: Okay, Allison, please tell me what happened. I just got the call from the station. They said that you were shot, and that Chloe was badly injured. A horseback rider was found passed out near you guys. The Griffith Park police have the whole scene taped off.

Allison: Chloe and I were having a walk along the horse trails. I stopped to tie my shoe laces, and I saw an equestrian coming up on us in the background. Then some loud sound like gunfire or a firecracker went off, and that scared the horse. At the same time, something hit me, and I realized it was a bullet when I fell to the ground, and that scared Chloe. I think another gunshot went off, and the horse charged at Chloe, knocking her against the wooden fencing.

Kyle: Did you see anyone with a gun?

Allison: No, other than the guy on horseback, there wasn’t anyone else on the horse trails that I saw.

Kyle: So you never saw anyone or a gun?

Allison: What are you thinking?

Kyle: I’m wondering if this is an isolated incident or connected to the attacks on Brendon and Nathan.

Allison: My gut is telling me otherwise.

Kyle: What’s it telling you?

Allison: I know what you’re going to say, but I think that Callum Sutcliffe is somehow involved in this.

Kyle: Oh, Allison, do you really think that?

Allison: Of course, I do. The bastard threatened my life not even four hours ago.

Kyle: What would possess him to do such a thing?

Allison: Well, I did punch his lights out.

Kyle (incredulously): What?

Allison: He had it coming. He was saying such awful things about Chloe and me.

Kyle: Yeah, but that doesn’t give you the right to punch him.

Allison: Yeah, I know. I just wasn’t thinking at the moment. It was a gut reaction, but there was definite murder in his eyes when he issued that threat to me. I know he’s behind this.

Kyle: Look, I’ll ask Callum some questions, but I highly doubt that he had anything to do with this. He doesn’t strike me as the gun-toting type.

Allison: Give him the third degree, Kyle. He’s behind this, and I’ll bet my life on it.

Kyle: Don’t worry, Allison. Once they’ve extracted the bullet from you, we’ll have ballistics right on it. We’re going to get whoever’s responsible for this. I guarantee you that.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

When Vittoria finally got out her car and rang the doorbell, she was surprised to have the door opened by an elderly looking gentleman dressed as a butler. Upon entering the foyer, she was taken aback at the opulence of the place. Then she saw Tristan coming into the room to greet her.

Vittoria: Damn, this is some crib he’s got!

Tristan: Yeah, Callum’s loaded. Now what’s this about you moving in here? He called me and left some cryptic message on my voicemail, telling me to hightail it over here.

Vittoria: I never said anything about moving in with him.

Tristan: How the hell do you know him?

Vittoria: He came upon me in Griffith Park and asked me to do a job for him.

Tristan (hesitantly): What sort of job?

Vittoria: Well, he in some way knew that I was already going after that lezzie and just wanted me to whack off her partner as well.

Tristan: And did you?

Vittoria (pulling out the gun): Yeah, he even gave me this to finish them both off. I must confess that I don’t think I even shot your friend Chloe. That horse did my work for me.

Tristan (disbelievingly): What are you talking about? What horse? Did you kill Allison and Chloe?

Vittoria: I told you that bitch was going to get what’s coming to her for ratting me out to the cops.

Tristan: I can’t believe you did this.

Vittoria: Oh, don’t go soft on me, Tristan.

At that moment, the door opens, Callum and Peyton enter, and Vittoria instinctively shoves the gun back into her purse.

Callum: Just the two people I wanted to see. Let’s go into my study to discuss matters.

Callum begins ushering Vittoria and Tristan into another room adjacent to the sitting room with Peyton following them step by step, ultimately prompting Callum to turn around.

Callum: Dr. Ashland, you can stay here. I’ll be back shortly.

The trio then enters the private room, and once the door is closed, Callum requests the gun, which Vittoria takes from her purse and duly hands to him.

Callum: You did make certain to wipe your prints from it? I see you’re now wearing gloves.

Tristan: What the fuck were you thinking having Vittoria do your dirty work for you?

Callum: I will not be spoken to in that tone of voice, Tristan!

Tristan: You had her murder two women in cold blood!

Callum: Pipe down, Tristan! This is right up her alley. I’m assuming you already know that Vittoria is waist deep in criminal activity, starting with arson and attempted murder.

Tristan: What the hell are you talking about?

Callum: I know that you two had something to do with the attacks on Nathan and Brendon.

Vittoria (in amazement): What?

Tristan: What are you basing this on?

Callum: Well, this morning your roommate accidentally dropped her fragrance Tentazione after she was trying to flee the scene after her run-in with Chloe. It just so happened that Nathan recalled on the night of the attack that he smelled an exotic fragrance just minutes before he and Brendon were attacked.

Tristan: And that’s all you’ve got? I’d like to see that hold up in court.

Callum (exaggerating): Well, Nathan said that was the fragrance he smelled at the cave entrance.

He instantly notices the apprehensive expression on Vittoria’s face.

Vittoria: You promised me that nothing would happen to me if I did what you asked.

Callum: I’m a man of my word, Vittoria. You needn’t worry about me turning you into the cops.

Tristan: You haven’t any concrete evidence! In fact, she could go to the cops with information on you as you were the one who gave her the gun to shoot Allison and Chloe.

Callum: I would love to have seen how she would have handled Chloe with that pathetic knife she was wielding. Besides, Tristano, for her to go to the cops and snitch on my involvement would be complete suicide on her part since she pulled the trigger. At most I’d be classified as an accessory, but then I could always claim she stole the gun from me.

Vittoria starts spouting profanity in Italian at Callum.

Callum: I’d be careful, dear. You were Justin Roberts’ drug dealer after all.

Vittoria (growing a backbone): You can’t prove that without Chloe’s testimony.

Callum: I don’t need Chloe’s testimony. It would come directly from the horse’s mouth—Justin Roberts.

Tristan: But he’s missing!

Callum: Luckily for me, I know where he is, and should he open his trap about your being his dealer, you’ll be back in the slammer in no time—without even so much as a whisper about the double homicide you just committed.

Tristan: What do you want, Callum?

Callum: You were always a man of business, Tristan... wanting to get down to brass tacks. For right now, I need Vittoria to stay here in this house until I handle the matter regarding Allison and Chloe’s deaths. There has to be no link between Vittoria and the bloodshed.

Tristan: And once that’s done?

Callum: Then you two can finish what you started three weeks ago with a little adjustment… you’ll now be killing off one half of the pair this time. You’ll get rid of Brendon Roberts for good.

Vittoria and Tristan remained silent.

Callum: I really wish I knew which one of you attempted to kill Brendon Roberts the other night. (pause) Well, don’t be in a hurry to tell me!

Tristan: I’m tired of playing these fucked up games, Callum. Neither of us is admitting to anything dealing with Nathan or Brendon or the arson. Like I said earlier, it’s not like you have any concrete evidence to tie us to the crime.

Callum: Playing it safe, eh?

Tristan: Damn right! It looks like we’re at a stalemate. You don’t have any way of blackmailing us for this alleged crime against Brendon and Nathan, yet you do have a way of blackmailing Vittoria for the drug dealing and the gunning down of Allison and Chloe but to do that would incriminate yourself.

Callum: You do have a point. Therefore, all I ask is that you both partake of my hospitality. We’ll talk this over tomorrow. Right now, I must get back to my meeting with Dr. Ashland. Ciao!

Vittoria (once the door is closed): Oh, Tristan, he’s onto us!

Tristan (gritting his teeth): Don’t panic! We have the upper hand here. We know Callum’s Achilles.

Vittoria: His what?

Tristan: His weak spot. It’s Nathan.

Vittoria: Why does he want him? I mean, he’s hot for someone in his age bracket, but we know that Nathan is in love with Brendon.

Tristan: We only have to get rid of one of them now, but if Callum pushes us too hard, we’ll just have to push back harder.

MEANWHILE IN SITTING ROOM…

Peyton (upon Callum’s reentry): What were you talking about with them? Blackmailing them also?

Callum: You might say so.

Peyton: I want to know what’s happened with Allison and Chloe. You were quiet on the subject the entire way to the park and the whole time back. I have been attempting to call Allison, but she’s not answering her cell.

Callum: Maybe she and Chloe are having a quiet evening at home.

Peyton: I swear, Callum, if anything happens to them, I’m holding you responsible.

Callum: Don’t fool yourself, Peyton. You’ll do anything to get your hands on that DVD, and as long as I have it, you’re beholden to me.

Peyton: Except I draw the line at murder.

Callum: Murder? Whatever do you mean?

Peyton: Allison told me there was another attempt made on Brendon’s life, but this time in the hospital. If you had anything to do with that—

Callum: Peyton, you were with me at the time it happened. I promise you I had absolutely nothing to do with it, but it does seem someone else out there has it in for Brendon Roberts.

Peyton: I’m going over to Allison’s house to check on her.

Callum: Give her my regards.

Peyton leaves the house in a hurry. Callum goes over to his mini bar and pours himself a drink when the doorbell rings, and Godfrey goes to answer it, opening the door to the brooding presence of Detective Kyle Walgrove, who immediately identifies himself to Godfrey. Upon given permission to enter, he comes inside and is led to the sitting room where Callum is enjoying his drink, having already prematurely toasted to the demise of his nemesis Allison Trudeau. Godfrey announces Kyle.

Callum: Is this a social call, Detective Walgrove?

Kyle: I’m afraid it’s not. I know we’ve never formally met, but I’ve come here tonight to ask you some important questions. What happened to your face?

Callum: I was attacked by some wretched brute.

Kyle: I know that Allison was the one who hit you.

Callum: You do? Then why did you ask? I’m guessing you approve of what she did.

Kyle: I don’t approve of any kind of violence.

Callum: Oh really? As I understand it, police brutality is an honored custom here in southern California. (suddenly sotto voce) Although, I wouldn’t mind be roughed up by you in the bed. You’re quite strong.

Kyle: I’m not that type of cop, Callum. Anyway, I need to ask you some questions. Allison said that you threatened her earlier tonight.

Callum: It was a gut reaction, Detective! She nearly dislocated my lower jaw! She’s lucky I’m not pressing charges for assault and battery.

Kyle: I take these threats very seriously, Mr. Sutcliffe. So where have you been all evening?

Callum: I was with Nathan Moynihan earlier. He paid me a visit, and I offered for him to stay for dinner, but he respectfully declined. He’s still worried about that errant ward of his. Anyway, I spent the remainder of the evening with Dr. Peyton Ashland and my butler.

Kyle: You never left the house?

Callum: What’s with all this third degree questioning? Has something happened? (pause) Oh, my word, don’t tell me they’ve found Justin Roberts’ body.

Kyle: No, no, it’s nothing like that. There was another incident at the park this evening, involving Allison Trudeau and her partner Chloe Dalton.

Callum: An incident, you say?

Kyle: Yes, one involving gunfire. Do you happen to own any firearms, Mr. Sutcliffe?

Callum: I was a law-abiding British citizen, Detective Walgrove. I didn’t possess any there—my husband Gavin also hated them except when he went hunting for pheasant in Norfolk—and I certainly don’t have any in this country. If you don’t mind my asking, what happened? Were they harmed?

Kyle: They are both in the hospital. Allison was shot in the shoulder, and it appears Chloe was either likewise struck or trampled by a frightened horse.

Callum (exclamatory): Bloody hell!

Kyle: I can see from your reaction that you’re greatly disturbed by this news. You clearly had no prior knowledge of this. I’m really sorry to have disturbed you this evening, but—

Callum: I-I had no idea. Please let them know they’re in my prayers.

Kyle: I would appreciate your keeping this information to yourself until it’s fully disclosed by the media.

Callum: Yes, Detective Walgrove.

Kyle (extending his hand): Please call me Kyle. We’re both Outrunners.

They shake hands, and Kyle routinely warns him not to leave town. Once the door closes, Callum goes completely uptight.

Callum (to himself): You’re absolutely right, Detective Walgrove. I was greatly disturbed by your news. My reaction was to that wench Allison being alive! This only goes to show that if one wants something done right, one must do it himself!

Godfrey (entering the room): Are you ready for your late supper, Your Lordship? Is something wrong? You look rather lost in thought.

Callum: I’m only livid that Allison Trudeau still lives and breathes upon this earth. That incompetent idiot Vittoria couldn’t even do her job correctly.

Godfrey: I have prepared rooms for them in the eastern wing. They will not be in earshot of our other guests in the western wing, but I am concerned that they may learn of our other guests from abroad, particularly as the young one has been causing much of a stir lately.

Callum: Call the pediatrician. With the amount I pay him, he can make house calls.

Godfrey: Yes, Your Lordship.

Callum: Have my supper sent to my room. I’ll dine in bed once I’ve given Vittoria a piece of my mind!

ALLISON AND CHLOE DALTON’S HOME

Peyton sped over to Allison’s house in Los Feliz, a lovely artistic neighborhood located in close proximity to Griffith Park. As his car neared her house, he saw that Allison’s car was still not there, yet there was someone at the front door, ringing the doorbell. Peyton parked his car and soon learned the visitor was Bralen Jones.

Peyton (getting out his car): Bralen, what are you doing here?

Bralen: Allison wanted to interview me for an article in the Outrunner Express newsletter. I was in the neighborhood and thought I would drop by. What are you doing here at this late hour?

Peyton (hesitating at first): I-I, uh, came over to congratulate Allison on the news of the baby. I got the email earlier today about Chloe’s pregnancy.

Bralen (glibly): Oh yeah, that! It completely eclipsed my news of going to the Olympics. (pause) What’s wrong, Peyton? You look preoccupied.

Peyton: No, I’m fine. I just wanted to come and check things out.

Bralen: Do you smell something?

Bralen rings the doorbell several times again. No one answers after a minute of impatient waiting, and then Peyton informs him that Allison usually leaves the back entrance open. They walk around to the back of the house, where they see smoke in the kitchen, coming slowly out the window, and hear the smoke alarm going off. Rushing into the kitchen, they see the source of the smoke, turn off the oven, and behold the sight of burnt food inside it.

Peyton: Something‘s not right about this!

Bralen: Yeah, Allison doesn’t know how to cook. They should come out with a cookbook for lesbians.

Peyton: I’ve been calling her cell for the last hour, and she’s not answering it. What are you doing?

Bralen (having opened the refrigerator): I thought Allison was a strict vegetarian—and I mean that non-sexually —so what’s this doing here? (withdrawing a can of whipped cream)

Peyton: Put that back, Bralen! You shouldn’t be going through other people’s refrigerators.

Bralen (rushing up behind Peyton with the can in his grasp): Oh, calm down, Mr. Stuffy Pants.

Peyton (his head and ears suddenly sprayed with whipped cream): Will you fucking stop that?

The imposing tone of Peyton’s voice jolted Bralen, at once arousing his libido. Peyton was already wiping the whipped cream from the crown of his head. Bralen slipped behind him again and placed his mouth on Peyton’s right earlobe, sucking away the frothy cream and sliding his arms around Peyton’s torso, gently pulling him back until their bodies touched.

Bralen (whispering into his ear): You want me to go on?

Bralen’s roaming hands had already found the growing lump in Peyton’s trousers and began rubbing and fondling it through the fabric.

Peyton: We really shouldn’t be doing this in Allison’s home. What if they were to come home now?

Bralen: Then they’d see some great cockplay, something they’re really missing out on.

Peyton: You’re such a sexist pig!

Bralen: I never considered myself sexist—sexy, yes—but as for the pig part, you hit that right on the nail.

In the same breath, Bralen had adroitly unzipped Peyton’s slacks, unleashing his massive endowment. He once more grasped the container of whipped cream and sprayed it on Peyton’s erection, all the while staring seductively into his eyes before lowering himself onto his knees and placing his moist, eager mouth around it.

Peyton: We really shouldn’t be doing this here.

Bralen (licking the cream from his lips): Would you rather take this into the other room? It does smell smoky in here.

Bralen rose, grabbed Peyton, and jerked him into the living room, throwing him onto the chaise longue. Peyton’s cock still stiff, Bralen readily recommenced sucking it, soon hearing pleasurable exhalations escape Peyton’s lips. Dynamic and unmistakably experienced in fellatio, Bralen’s mouth swallowed inch by inch of throbbing flesh, his gag reflex not yet triggered despite the fact that rivulets of saliva were streaming down Peyton’s shaft.

Peyton: Hey, watch the dribble! Don’t want to get it on Allison’s furniture.

Bralen: Yeah, you’re right!

Peyton unexpectedly felt his dominant streak urging him on—an irrepressible impulse to control Bralen, who had brought this situation upon himself. Both his hands shot forth, seized Bralen’s head, and he then forced his cock farther down his throat. Peyton’s cell phone rang, and he thoughtlessly answered it.

Peyton (to Bralen): Keep going!

To his annoyance, it was Callum, admonishing him to say they were together all night should Detective Kyle Walgrove come to interrogate him.

Peyton: Why? What have you done? (pause) What the hell! (carelessly rising from the chaise longue and injuring his penis, Bralen accidentally biting it)

Bralen: You should have told me you were getting up. You’re lucky you’ve got some thick skin. The last guy whose cock I unintentionally bit needed stitches.

Callum (voice emanating from the phone): Who’s that you’re with?

Peyton: None of your business!

Callum: Just remember what I told you.

Peyton snaps the phone shut, pushes his hurting cock back into his slacks, and zips them up. He looked at a bewildered and confused Bralen.

Peyton: We’ve got to go now. That was Callum. Allison and Chloe are in the hospital. There’s been an accident at Griffith Park!

Bralen: Come on, let’s take my car. You’re in no condition to get behind the wheel. On the drive over, you can reciprocate what I’ve done for you.

Peyton: Isn’t that dangerous?

Bralen: Don’t worry! I’ll go just under the speed limit and try to avoid bumps and potholes.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, THE NEXT MORNING (MONDAY)

Nathan has rushed to the hospital, Allison having informed him what happened the prior evening. He is in her room staring at the sling on her shoulder, the bullet having been surgically removed. Her face looks weathered from the strife she has endured the past twelve hours.

Nathan: I got here as soon as I could. My God, Allison, your shoulder! Why didn’t you call me last night after all this happened?

Allison: I didn’t want to add to your stress. Peyton and Bralen were here with me last night. I finally had to send them home about an hour ago.

Nathan: Well, I notified the school that I wouldn’t be in until 10:00. You didn’t tell me much over the phone, but you said there was something very urgent you had to tell me.

Allison: I-It’s about Ch-Chloe! (breaking into tears)

Nathan: Oh, Allison, no… please don’t say she—

Allison (wiping her nose with the back of her hand): No, she made it through surgery. Her back was greatly injured. The impact was too strong. She suffered a lot of internal bleeding. Dr. Preston had to do an emergency hysterectomy.

Nathan: What does that mean?

Allison: She lost the baby, Nathan.

Nathan: Oh, my God, Allison. I’m so sorry. (wrapping his arms around her). We’ll get through this.

Allison: I can handle it, Nathan. It’s just that I know Chloe can’t… how am I to tell her that she not only lost this baby, but that she won’t be able to have another one?

Nathan (standing and raking his hand through his hair): I-I don’t know what to say. Do you want me to be there with you when you tell her?

Allison: No, I should be the one. She’ll be expecting me when the anesthetics wear off.

Nathan: Other than that, is she okay?

Allison: The doctors will prescribe her some painkillers for her back injury. Other than that, she should make a full recovery.

Nathan: Thank God. I’m really at a loss for words. I’ve lost a child also…

Allison (moving to hug him): Yes, you did, but at least you can have another child if you want. For my precious Chloe, the struggle has just begun. She’ll have to cope with the inability to bear children, and I know that was something she truly wanted to do.

Nathan: I could just kill the son-of-a-bitch that did this! Have they found out who was responsible?

Allison: I haven’t had a chance to speak with Kyle, who’s doing all he can find out what really happened.

Nathan: But you were shot?

Allison: Yes, I was hit by a bullet. Chloe was struck down by the horse, and the horseback rider is still in intensive care to my understanding. He hasn’t awakened yet, but Kyle will be questioning him as well to see if he knows anything.

Nathan: Allison, you know I’m here for you.

Allison: Yeah, I know. (pause) You should go see Brendon before you head into work.

Nathan: Yeah, I’ll have to impart the bad news to him as well. Good thing about it is that I most likely won’t get a reaction from him. Anyway, as president of Outrunners, I’ll be issuing a formal edict that there will be no more training runs in Griffith Park until they have solved these crimes. I think we’ll either go to Silver Lake or Runyon Canyon.

Allison: I’m fine with that ruling.

They hugged before Nathan left her room, heading down the hall in the direction of Brendon’s room. Allison stood immobile, gravely contemplating within herself why she held back on telling Nathan her intuitive impression that Callum Sutcliffe was one way or another involved in the attacks.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Rising at dawn to place a call to Armitage & Burnham Publishing in London, Callum quickly allayed their anxieties over their pressing need for the final draft of the next Simon Edgley novel, promising them that they would have it within forty-eight hours. The situation mandated he enter into his personal conclave, a ritual he performed thrice a year when he had to write each of the novels under his various pseudonyms. Shut off from the rest of the world—which in the past included Gavin, Godfrey, and the Armitage family—Callum would take temporary residence usually in the basement with only his notebook computer and classical music as companions over a taxing two day period of creative outflow. Like all great artists, he needed his privacy in order to effectively create. Under no circumstance was he to be interrupted until the completion of the novel, and all his meals and drink were delivered promptly at scheduled times and left on a tray outside the door.

It was with much reluctance that he would presently do this awful task, especially in the midst of the bedlam surrounding Allison, Chloe, and Nathan. Then there was also the vile dealing with Tristan and Vittoria, and while Callum didn’t mind them staying under his roof—which allowed him the ability to keep a close watch over them—he detested the idea that they were likewise playing hardball with him, threatening to fire back on him should he try to blackmail them. He needed something ironclad with which he could keep them in his grasp, much like how he held Dr. Peyton Ashland.

Having finished his call to London, he had a good breakfast and set about finding a way to rectify the mess in which he had been placed. Allison had not been fatally shot, and she had sent Kyle over last night for that spontaneous interrogation. Hopefully, Peyton would play along and provide his alibi, but Callum did not yet know Chloe’s status. If she were alive, then Vittoria would still be a liability, for then Chloe would stop at nothing until Vittoria was prosecuted for dealing the drugs to Justin, especially as he was still reportedly “missing.”

For now Callum wanted to concentrate his energies on Detective Kyle Walgrove. He had to know the identity of the person with whom Heath Alcott was having an affair since that tasty tidbit of information would go a long way toward keeping Kyle on a leash. Justin said that last week he had gone into the house and heard Heath engaged in sexual activity with someone else. Callum would have to take a chance and go over there and see if there were any clues. He had Kyle and Heath’s address from Peyton’s black book, and thanks to Justin’s big mouth, he knew where they hid their spare key—under the flowerpot on the porch.

They lived in a nice cottage house on Cherry Grove Drive, just short of Santa Monica Boulevard. Having driven to the place, he debated where to park his car as there was an available spot next door in front of Kyle’s neighbors, but Callum didn’t wish to draw attention to himself. More to the point, two of the neighbors were already outside, particularly a father who was teaching his teenage son how to drive, and the kid looked to be rather challenged. Callum chose to park farther down the street and thought he recognized the car parked in front of that neighboring house as Tristan’s car.

He got out his car, waited for the father/son pair to pull out their driveway and begin their lesson, and then walked up to Kyle’s residence. There didn’t appear to be any car in the garage. He looked at the porch and his eyes landed on the sight of three flowerpots, and he found the key under the second one. He slipped it into the lock, and stole inside the house.

The throbbing, sexual beat of Garbage’s “Push It” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzViEkqthfk) begins playing the moment he enters the house.

His ears right away took notice of the sound that Justin had described, for it was an indisputable echo of ecstasy merged with grunting sounds. He tiptoed his way through the living room, crossing the kitchen, and entering a short carpeted hallway. The sounds were coming from the end of it, and he gingerly walked down it, stooping onto his legs at the doorway and peeking inside at the mind-blowing spectacle.

It was Tristan! He was the one having an affair with Heath Alcott! This is too good to be true, Callum thought. I must give the bloke credit. He knows how to move it. However, his taste in sexual partners is somewhat questionable, given Heath’s strange predilection for freakish sex acts, as evidenced from the scene before him.

Both were in the bed, standing up on their knees, Heath facing away with steel clamps on his nipples and a leather belt secured around his neck, Tristan tightening his grip on it as his body slammed into Heath—who kept demanding more aggression out of him. He was already red in the face, but there surged a definite energy within him that thrived on the harsh treatment. Heath’s hands went behind himself to grab Tristan’s head and pull him back for a kiss. It was at that angle that Callum saw Heath’s erection—steely and rigid with a cap of pink flesh already gleaming with signs of bodily satisfaction. Callum saw Tristan reach down and grasp it, squeezing it gently before tugging on it.

Heath: Just fuck me, you asshole!

Tristan: Oh, is that how you want it?

Tristan’s hand slapped Heath’s cheeks before he pushed him forward onto the bed on his stomach before savagely mounting him and grabbing his shoulders as leverage. He threw all his weight now into his thrusts, jarring more high-pitched moans from Heath. Tristan began feeling his own body heat increase as his sweaty skin continued slapping against Heath’s similarly moist flesh.

Callum chose not to stay for the climax, having seen enough, and slipped away from the scene, content with what he had witnessed. He retraced his steps and went back outside, rushing to his car. He stopped dead in his tracks the minute he saw the neighbor’s son ineptly navigating the wheel of his father’s car, sending it careening carelessly around the corner and the vehicle nearly sideswiped Callum’s sports car when it was making its way toward its normal parking spot. Suddenly, the boy’s foot must have become leaden, for the car abruptly started speeding, and the inexperienced driver slammed into Tristan’s car, the sound of metal colliding with metal. The trunk of Tristan’s car flipped up with the impact.

Callum rushed over to assess the damage, his eyes immediately latching onto the forbidden item confined within the trunk. He knew instantly what it was, and while the father and son were arguing, Callum carefully grasped the blanket covering the blood-encrusted crowbar and darted away. When he reached his car, he carefully placed it in the passenger seat, an air of utter fulfillment sealed on his face.

TWO HOURS LATER

The poignancy of Snow Patrol’s “Open Your Eyes” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1l5ipSldZNI) provides the musical background for the following monumental montages:

Callum descends into the wine cellar of his home with his notebook computer tucked under his arm. Standing on the stairs, he hands Godfrey an envelope along with specific instructions. The butler then ceremoniously closes the heavy wooden door, sealing Callum into the dark chamber. Callum sits at the desk positioned in the middle of the room and majestically opens the notebook computer, eager to embark on yet another fictional voyage.

Allison stands outside Chloe’s hospital room, in conflict with herself on how exactly to break the awful news to her partner that she’ll never bear children. She knows that Chloe will take it very hard, and that it would potentially devastate her beyond repair. There was no way of sugarcoating it. She slowly makes her way into the room, sitting down next to Chloe, who was still peacefully asleep. For a split second, Allison dreads the moment Chloe’s eyes would open, whereupon it would be countdown until the awful revelation that would ultimately break her heart.

Nathan enters Brendon’s room to tell him the bad news about the accident that took Chloe’s unborn away from her. He sits idly beside him, trying to find the words of pain to tell his lover that he was now likewise suffering the loss of what would have been his first child. Nathan reaches up and wraps his arms around Brendon, unleashing a flood of tears from his eyes. I love you so much and just wish you were here with me. His tears fell onto Brendon’s face, and had Nathan been sitting in his chair or otherwise in a different position from the one which he currently held, he would have seen that Brendon’s eyes had just opened.

TO BE CONTINUED…