The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 19: “Beach Bashing”

BRALEN JONES’ HOME, SANTA MONICA

Bralen lay in bed, drowned in his sorrows, his mind overwhelmed with unanswered questions, a crippling fever having seized his body. The last forty-eight hours had permanently altered the course of his life, and it all began with the results of a test he had taken. It was both impossible and illogical. The test came back positive for doping. Traces of a potent performance enhancing drug had been found in his bloodstream. Someone had mysteriously tipped his coach to this mystery. Bralen vehemently denied everything—knowing full well of his own innocence—but gave into his coach’s exhortations, if only to calm his anxieties.

I can’t believe this! It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never taken any drugs in my life—not even weed, and that’s saying something for living in southern California. How could the test come back positive? It thus began with the media storm, camera crew and reporters chasing him. He couldn’t face the public, the threatening pall of infamy thrown over him. How could he face his fellow Outrunners? He felt awful and avoided answering any calls, opting to screen them. One was from his coach, who had insinuated that he might wish to come clean with the truth. It would mean he’d have to release a statement. It would be best of him to bite the bullet and pull out of the competition, especially before the IOC really got wind of this news.

There goes my hopes and dreams. But what else can I do? Get another opinion? The doubt has already been cast. Oh, what should I do? His parents had called to check on him. How the hell did they find out about this all the way in Iowa! He quickly made an excuse to get off the phone. He imagined the shame his mother would be feeling, especially as she was member of several women’s group in Des Moines. They just retired there. Mom always spoke so highly of me around those stuffy old biddies with their ultraconservative Midwestern values. Now they’ll take her out to lunch and talk about her behind her back. Not to mention what this mess will do to my little brother Linden, who’s on the triathlon team at Northwestern University. There’s no telling what his teammates will say behind his back.

In spite of these reservations, Bralen indeed wanted to reach out to one of his relatives or simply anyone who could offer him some reassurance. As if matters could not get any worse for his already frayed nerves, he soon learned of what happened to Tristan and frantically went in search of him for answers, yet he would not be pleased with what he would eventually find.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL

Tristan Bersani opened his eyes to the fluorescent lights of his room in Hollywood Hospital. He felt mild pain but knew there was an IV hooked to his body, probably filling him with morphine. In that brief moment since regaining consciousness, he was most thankful for his life and not having it ripped away from him. He saw white sheets that covered his body. He hadn’t turned his head since his neck was in an awkward position. It was then that he heard an odd, feminine voice, effectuated to sound foreign, almost Gallic in its delivery. He had to turn his head to see who was in the room with him.

Estrella: Would you like me to fluff your pillow?

He disbelievingly stared at the spectacle before him. There stood Estrella, tailored in a nurse’s uniform that was all white—its symbolic purity in definite contrast to her slattern ways. She had on white gloves and wore matching white stockings and a white nurse’s cap.

Tristan: What the hell are you doing here?

Estrella: I’m Nurse Tartaro, and I came here to tend to you. If you don’t need me to fluff your pillow, perhaps I can “fluff” something else.

Tristan (trying to turn on his side—away from her—in spite of the pain): Just go away.

Estrella (dropping the act): Where the hell is my share of the money?

Tristan: I don’t have the money. In case you didn’t notice, I’m in a hospital bed, badly bruised up.

Estrella: Yeah, I saw you on the news being pulled from the river and immediately came here. You’ve been out for a while. Must be some powerful drugs they have you on. What happened to you?

Tristan: I was attacked.

Estrella: By whom? The last I heard, you had got the ransom otherwise Vittoria wouldn’t have dropped off the baby. So who got in the way?

I know who, but I’m not saying. That bastard Kyle thinks he can throw his weight around just because he’s a cop. Well, I’ll handle him my way.

Tristan: I don’t know. He came up behind me so quickly and—

Estrella: Never mind the details. Where’s the money?

Tristan: I told you. I don’t know. I must have lost it in the river.

Estrella: You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You wouldn’t believe the shit this kidnapping has put me through. You owe me big time, Tristan!

Tristan: What do you expect me to do? I was attacked. I don’t have the money.

Estrella: And I could care less about your incident. It’s time to either pay up or put out.

Tristan: What?

Estrella’s gloved hand went under the sheets and rushed straight for Tristan’s crotch, grasping the bulb that was his cock. The downy softness of the gloves felt good to him, and he couldn’t help releasing a brief moan of pleasure.

Estrella: Well, at least the crown jewels weren’t damaged.

She continued jerking it, feeling it magnify in both length and girth as the organ began naturally swelling with blood. Tristan reached his hand out to stop her, but her other hand cornered his, momentarily defeating him.

Estrella: This is my time now. Let Nurse Tartaro take good care of you.

She pulled back Tristan’s hospital gown to reveal his well-cut pecs and ran her gloved hand over them, all the time jerking him with her other hand. She could see his eyes roll back pleasurably in their sockets. She was just a few minutes short of his reaching climax when Heath burst through the door, a vase of roses in his hands. He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the scene before him, Estrella’s hand positioned under the covers near Tristan’s groin while the other one massaged his chest. Tristan himself looked to be in a drowsed state.

Heath: What the hell is going on here? (suddenly recognizing Estrella from the last time he had likewise caught them engaged in sexual activity) You!

Estrella (withdrawing her gloved hand from the covers): I-I’m so sorry. I was—

Heath (angrily rushing to her): Oh, you’ll be sorry, bitch!

He yanked the flowers from the vase and beat at Estrella with them, the petals scattering all over the floor as she shrieked loudly, defensively putting out her hands. Once the stems had broken, she stepped back, looking fearfully at Heath now as he wielded the glass vase.

Heath: Get the hell out of here!

Having had her fair share of angered blows from both the gays and lesbians and not desiring an encore, Estrella made a speedy exit, running across the flower petals as if she were a bride.

Heath (setting the vase down and coming to Tristan): Are you okay? (kissing him)

Tristan (whispering): I’m fine. I didn’t have much strength to fight her off.

Heath: I overheard the nurses in the hall, gossiping about who would get to give you a sponge bath, but I never expected to walk in on that. (suddenly becoming serious) Tristan, what happened? I was worried all night. You didn’t come home. Even Vittoria was worried about you, and then we recognized you on the news. How did you get into the river?

Tristan: I was attacked.

Heath: Who did this to you?

Tristan: Don’t you worry about that. I’m just glad to be alive, and I’m glad to see you.

Heath (bending over to hug and kiss him): I love you, Tristan.

It was at that angle that Tristan could look through the glass portal in the door to see Bralen’s face staring at him. The embrace and then the kiss from Heath must have been too much for Bralen to bear, for he immediately turned away and fled. Right before Tristan went back under the influence of the drugs, he heard Heath promising to cook him a delicious meal of his favorite foods when he got out the hospital.

MEANWHILE IN BRENDON’S ROOM, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL

Brendon sat in his room, silently contemplating the mess of his life. The arguments with Callum and Austin had made him deeply reconsider his stance with Nathan. They were right in both their own twisted ways. I’m partly to blame for this mess. I’m supposed to be his lifetime partner, and I turned my back on him. How could I have been so blind to my feelings for him?

Enrique Iglesias’ “Be with You” begins playing over the nostalgic montage as Brendon fondly recalls the time spent with Nathan when they were genuinely in love with each other and their time spent together was so precious. The trips up Pacific Coast Highway in the convertible with the top down and the wind whipping through their hair, holding hands, and mesmerized by the breathtaking natural beauty that spread out for them on the winding street. The memories of the ocean, the cliffs, and the spectacular vistas continued to flourish in Brendon’s mind with their special weekend trips to the beach in Capistrano, sunbathing, picnicking, and enjoying each other’s company. They would have trips to Napa Valley, visiting vineyards and tasting the wine together, and being a bit tipsy afterwards. I remember relaxing at the bed and breakfast overlooking the ocean. Those were the days, so full of magic and promise and endless possibility. We were so in love. No, damn it, we are in love! I can’t lose him like this, but the damage has been done. Or has it? Maybe I can get through to Justin, make him realize that it was an error… maybe it was his imagination. But could he really have lied about this? But why would he? All I know is that I can’t lose Nathan to this. I want to be with him. And in spite of my many shortcomings—and Lord knows I have an endless supply of them—I deserve to be happy with the man I love.

It was then that he called Nathan, unfortunately catching him in his drowsed state. Brendon had told him that he wanted to make things right with him. Upon ending the phone conversation, he went to Justin’s room, finding him playing a portable video game.

Brendon: You look well. What’s that you’re playing?

Justin: Just some game.

Brendon: The nurses tell me you’ll be ready to leave in a day or so. They’re discharging me around the same time so we can go home together.

Justin: We’re not going back to that house, are we?

Brendon: Look, Justin, I love Nathan. (pause) I can’t help it. You can’t just turn off your feelings for someone after twelve years. I know what you said happened, but—

Justin: You think I’m lying.

Brendon: I honestly don’t know what to think anymore. Why did you steal Callum’s car? (noticing a sudden look of anxiety on Justin’s face) Did he put you up to this? Is he conning you?

Justin: You’re willing to take Nathan’s word over mine, Uncle Brendon?

Brendon (bluntly): Are you telling the truth, Justin? I get the distinct impression you’re holding something back from me, and I think it has something to do with Callum.

Justin: I’m pressing charges, Uncle Brendon, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Believe what you want but the fact remains you weren’t there when I needed you the most in my life. I have no family left. Mom’s gone, my dad ditched us. You’re the closest thing to a father, and I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.

Brendon: What do you mean?

Justin: I confronted Nathan about Callum, and that’s when he forced himself on me. I did it to protect your honor. I couldn’t stand watching him make a fool out of you while you were in the coma.

Brendon: Justin, if I choose to believe you, that’d be putting me in an impossible situation. I love Nathan.

Justin: Do you love me, Uncle Brendon?

Brendon: Yes.

Justin: Then prove it. Stop defending Nathan!

Brendon soon left the room, feeling more torn apart than ever.

NATHAN’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Kyle knocked on the door three times before Nathan opened it, wearing only his boxers.

Kyle (entering): Jesus, Nate, you look worse than I do!

Nathan: At least not as bad as the house. All the windows have been egged.

Kyle: And so has your car. Those damn kids!

Nathan: It’s not just them! I’ve received hate mail, electronically and in the post. I just can’t believe it.

Kyle: Well, you know I’ll do all I can to help. Should I make us some coffee? I think we both could use some.

They sat down on the couch and relieved themselves of their present worries and anxieties, telling each other of the current state of their lives. It was after Kyle had told of his breaking with Heath that Nathan gave a deep sigh.

Nathan: I’m so sorry to hear that. I would never have thought Tristan—

Kyle: I could kill the bastard for what he’s done, and I damn near did the other night. (balling his fists)

Nathan: Hey, calm down. Don’t do anything rash. (taking a sip of coffee) You don’t want them labeling you a rogue cop, which is still several notches above being called a child molester.

Kyle: Look, Nate, no jury of your peers would ever believe Justin over you.

Nathan: I’m sure Justin’s praying for a homophobic jury. Just my luck that’s what I would get.

Kyle: Not if we damage Justin’s credibility. Believe me, there’s no way any lawyer can make him out to be a model kid. We just need more details about where he’s been all this time, who he was with, and I think I know just the person who could help us .

Nathan: Oh yeah, who’s that?

Kyle: Don’t worry about that. You should take care of yourself. You need to be out and seen. This seclusion isn’t really good for you or your case. You’ve got nothing to hide. You can’t stay shut in here like some vampire.

Nathan: Well, I sure as hell haven’t been invited to any dinner parties lately.

Kyle: All I’m saying is you should get some sun. Hey, that gives me an idea. Why don’t you come to the beach party on Saturday?

Nathan: Kyle, I-I don’t know about that.

Kyle: Don’t make me get rogue cop on you.

With that said, Nathan reluctantly agreed to go to the beach party in three days’ time.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Peyton lay on the floor on his back, raising the baby as high as his hands would allow, and then he dipped the baby far down to where Edward’s cherubic face and nose touched Peyton’s.

Peyton: You love being the airplane, don’t you, Big Guy?

Callum (entering the room): Did you ever leave the house last night?

Peyton: I slept in one of the guest rooms. Lord knows you have plenty of them.

Callum: Would you mind not doing that to him? I don’t want him to get dizzy.

The doorbell rang, Godfrey entered to announce that Rodrigo had arrived. Callum instantly noticed the look on Peyton’s face, and had Peyton take Edward out the room. Rodrigo entered, dressed in blue jeans ripped at the knees and a shirt that hugged his muscular frame.

Callum: What brings you here, Rodrigo?

Rodrigo: There’s something I need to tell you.

Callum: What? Did I not sign all your books? I may have forgotten to do so with a few of them.

Rodrigo: No, it’s not that. (pause) I think I know who took your son.

Callum (his face looking as if it suffered an avalanche): You what? (urgently) Who?

Rodrigo: The other day I was in West Hollywood when I saw this guy—well, he’s really a gigolo—who was at a payphone with a voice disguiser, and I overheard him say your name.

Having heard the word “gigolo,” Callum had hastily risen and grabbed the most recent copy of the Outrunners Express. He shoved the newsletter at Rodrigo, his index finger jammed against a photo of Tristan.

Callum: Is that who you saw?

Rodrigo (nodding): Yes, Mr. Sutcliffe. But no worries. I took care of him for you. He had an encounter with the Los Angeles River. I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again.

Callum felt a weird chill run down his spine, hearing Rodrigo practically confess to murder—or attempted murder at least. I sensed the boy was off his rocker but in all fairness, he’s looking out for my interests. Besides, Tristan was a definite liability with what he knew about me. Good riddance to bad rubbish!

Callum (awkwardly): Th-Thank you for handling the matter, Rodrigo.

Rodrigo: It was my pleasure. I got your back. If you ever need anything else, just let me know. (looking at his watch) Oh, shit, I’ve got to be on the other side of town in twenty minutes. See you later!

Upon his leaving, Callum fell onto the couch, his mind still processing what he had been told. I thought Chloe and Estrella were behind the kidnapping, but this does reek of Tristan’s doing. Where the hell is my damn money? Before going to the morgue to visit Tristan, I should pay Ms. Tartaro a quick visit. She’s got lots of explaining to do!

ALLISON AND CHLOE’S HOME, LOS FELIZ

Allison had a restless night. After quickly getting a bath robe with which to wrap Chloe, she had taken her upstairs to the bedroom. She laid her down to rest, came back downstairs, and pondered the chaos into which her life had fallen. Who was that woman? It definitely appeared to me that she was taking advantage of Chloe. She would never willingly do that with another woman. Or was she really mad at me for leaving her alone for several days? Our last time seeing each other we had argued. Oh, God, what went wrong? I had to leave the country to protect her.

It was at this moment that Allison called Talon Prescott to ensure that he had made contact with Callum. I need this guy to come through with his promise. Why he loves that bastard is beyond my understanding, but I can’t allow him to keep hurting my loved ones. I wonder if Callum had anything to do with what happened tonight. And what was all that talk of kidnapping? Allison picked up Chloe’s blouse and out fell a pacifier from one of the pockets. It was then her suspicions began to steal over her. Rachael Yamagata’s “Worn Me Down” begins playing in the background of the scene, the song’s chorus resounding in Allison’s mind, underscoring her crushing suspicions.

She only got a few hours of sleep, her mind beset with overwhelming feelings of doubt, triggered by the recurring image of that woman violating Chloe’s innocence. Allison had chosen to sleep in the guest room. When she rose the next morning, she went downstairs to get the morning newspaper. Putting on some coffee, she went back into the other room, by chance taking a different route and stumbling over a pair of expensive shoes. She knew instantly whose they were, her anger swelling within her. She took them outside to her garbage bin where she lit them afire. She went upstairs to get some clean clothing, finding Chloe in the bedroom, looking out the window as sunlight fell onto her heavenly body. She was weeping and turned around to face Allison, full of doe-eyed pity, reaching out for her hands to touch her. At that moment, Allison felt a sudden spurt of venom rise within her. I can’t look at you now. How could you do this to what he had? She turned away and went downstairs.

The next few days were all the same with her burgeoning paranoia creeping into her consciousness. Chloe mysteriously remained in that languorous state as if the orgasm she experienced had gripped her in its weakening aftermath, rendering her helpless to its dominance. Allison would often see Chloe smiling and wonder if she were thinking of that other woman. Whenever she saw Chloe squeezing on a pillow, she would wonder if she was imagining the softness of the other woman’s touch. Allison would try to will herself to talk to Chloe, but they would end up with idle talk about the weather or what was for breakfast.

Chloe, for her part, felt miserable. She loved Allison with all her heart and certainly did not wish this upon her. Where were you, Allison, when I needed you? At least Estrella was there. Chloe couldn’t bring herself to admit that the carnal pleasure which she had enjoyed had far exceeded what Allison had been able to grant her within the past few years. A fire had been sparked within her, this roaring internal hearth that yearned for more, and as there was no one to aid in its satisfaction, she had to rely on that memory, replaying it over and over in her mind. She would often smile and pull her knees to her chest, hugging her arms as if they were the woman coming back to treasure her.

It was on the third day—almost biblically—that both Allison and Chloe rose from their downtrodden worlds to reenter the real world. Each would regret this action.

WEST HOLLYWOOD, CHATEAU MARMONT HOTEL

On his way to see Estrella, Callum received an urgent call from Talon, telling him to meet him at his hotel, which fortunately was on the way to Estrella’s home. Upon getting to Talon’s room, he opened the door, his torso wrapped in a towel that failed to cover the musculature of his body, the ripped lines of his muscles prominent against the pallor of his skin.

Callum (pushing into the room): What was so urgent you had to see me?

Talon: Have you given any thought to my proposition last night about us going together to Greece?

Callum: There is no us to it. You’re going by yourself.

Talon: (seductively moving closer to him): And I told you I’m not leaving without you. Besides, why are you trying to get rid of me?

Callum: I’m not trying to get rid of you, merely sparing you a headache. There isn’t much intellectual life here in Los Angeles. The public libraries are filled more with the homeless seeking temporary shelter than those genuinely in search of knowledge.

Talon (advancing upon him): Speaking of libraries, do you remember that time in the stacks at Oxford when you nearly snogged me to death? I wouldn’t mind an encore of that.

Callum (deftly turning away): Well, you won’t get one. What part of my choosing Gavin don’t you understand?

Talon (shouting): He’s dead, damn it! What part of that don’t you understand!

Callum: You would know how I felt if you had lost someone you deeply loved. (now crying) There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think of him.

Talon (rushing to hug Callum): There! There! I shouldn’t have been so caustic, but you’re definitely wrong about my not feeling the way you do. (affectionately using his thumbs to wipe Callum’s tears away) I have thought about you everyday since I lost you to him. Whenever I’m depressed, I dream of our special moments together.

Callum (sitting down on the bed and blowing his nose into handkerchief): Really?

Talon (sitting down next to him): Yes, my fondest memory was our holiday in Wales. Remember our time in Cardigan Bay and that visit to Portmeirion?

Callum (cracking a smile): Yes, it was such a lovely village. You hadn’t known at the time how much of a fan I was of The Prisoner, and I always wanted to visit where it was filmed.

Talon: Well, I enjoyed seeing the rest of the country that gave birth to Dylan Thomas. Do you remember that special evening in Cardiff?

Callum (mildly laughing): You mean your deafening karaoke at the pub? (seeing Talon affirmatively nod) Well, you fared much better in Aberystwyth.

Talon (coldly): We never went to Aberystwyth.

Callum: Yes, we did. You dragged me to Devil’s Bridge, and I—

Talon: Callum, we never went there! You must have it confused with your time there with Gavin.

Callum: I’m sorry. I guess I did. (rising from the bed) I really should go.

Talon: Hold on! (grasping Callum’s arm) Let’s go for a drink together. (seeing his hesitance) I’m not taking no for an answer! (picking up remote to turn on tv) Let me check the weather.

Callum: It’s southern California. It’s always sunny.

It was then that Callum nearly died on the spot when the television news did a brief update on the allegations against Nathan, showing both his home and his face picture onscreen. As his back was to the screen, Talon didn’t see it, granting Callum the opportunity to impulsively grant him an unexpected kiss of noted distraction. He waited until the report had finished before separating his mouth from Talon’s, feeling the heat still burning upon his lips.

Talon (breathless): Gee, what was that about? That’s more of the snog I wanted.

Callum: I-I—

Talon: Hell, it even left you speechless, and you started it. (his towel falls from his body to the floor) Do you want to continue with it?

I can’t risk him finding out anything. I have to prevent that from happening at all costs. Must keep a close eye over him! It was then that Callum unthinkingly made the grand mistake that he would reget.

Callum (looking at Talon’s naked body): Why don’t we talk this over a glass of wine back at the mansion? I would like to interest you in possibly staying there with me… indefinitely.

Talon: I haven’t any idea what’s got into you, but I’m not contesting it. (hugging and kissing him) You’ve just made my day.

Callum (feeling Talon’s erection against his leg): I can see. Anyway, don’t get any fancy ideas. I just don’t want you needlessly wasting money staying here.

Talon: When I could be staying in your bed?

Callum: Don’t get ahead of yourself. (Talon gives him a quick peck on the cheeks) You might as well get your luggage ready.

Talon (cockily): Your resolve is waning, Sutcliffe! You’ll be mine in no time.

Callum: Remember what I used to tell you.

Talon: No, I can’t say. What?

Callum: “One swallow does not make a summer.” (noting the twinkle in Talon’s eyes at the suggestive nature of the quote) Hurry up. I’ll be waiting in the lobby.

When Talon went to gather his clothing and toiletries, Callum yanked the power cord from the television. I can’t believe I’m letting him back into my life. Oh, Gavin, please forgive me. Callum, in his heart, was more concerned about carnal temptation than with the devastating chance that Talon would learn the real reason for his being in America.

THREE DAYS LATER, ESTRELLA’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, SATURDAY NOONTIME

Estrella: I’m glad to see you up and walking.

Brendon: Physical therapy has done me well. Have you been keeping yourself busy with our project?

Estrella: For a moment, I thought you were the one responsible for Tristan’s attack.

Brendon: I can’t take credit for it. I was in the hospital. I’m sure whoever did it had a good reason.

Estrella: I paid him a visit, but had to deal with his current fuck bud. Man can you fairies pack some serious punches! What did you wish for me to do about Vittoria?

Brendon: Never mind her. I’ve got her on a special assignment. You just keep Tristan on a tight leash. Anyway, I have to go check on Justin and then stop by the beach. I’ll be in touch.

He left, and Estrella gave a deep sigh of relief. She noticed that he had left his cell phone. There came a knock at the door. It’s probably him coming back for to get his phone.

She was wrong. It was not Brendon. It was Chloe.

WILL ROGERS BEACH, SANTA MONICA, SATURDAY MORNING

All Saints’ “Pure Shores” plays over the scene as several volunteers work to put the tent in the sand. They stretched out the Los Angeles Outrunners banner across the tent while others set up the tables on which several foods were placed, ranging from the healthy to the sinfully delicious variety. Attractive, muscled men and buxom women soon arrived to lie out on the beach, sunbathe, play Frisbee, or simply rush into the water. Peyton arrived early, having gotten clearance from Callum to bring Edward with him with the strict stipulation that Inga was to be his shadow everywhere they went. Many Outrunners members thought that Peyton was only using the baby as a means to score points with some of the more sensitive gay men on the beach, but he eventually proved them wrong. He selflessly went through the trouble of changing and feeding Edward, and even started the laborious task of building a sand castle for him. In between constructing the towers, he would play a game of “airplane” with Edward, loving to see the baby’s face light up with a smile as he raised him high in the air and dipped him low.

Kyle (coming forth): Peyton, I never would have you pegged as a baby lover.

Peyton (smiling): Well, this little guy is worth it. (talking in a funny tone as one does to children) Aren’t you… wooka wooka!

Kyle: Whose kid is he?

Peyton: He’s my---(catching his error) He’s my responsibility for a little bit until Callum gets here. Oh, I think I see him in the distance parking his car.

Kyle (incredulously): You‘re telling me Callum let you look after his son, who was kidnapped days ago.

Peyton: Well, we had an agreement. See that androgynous Swede over there. She’s the baby guard.

It was at that moment Allison came over to the area. It was the first time any of them had seen her in a week, and Peyton was really surprised to see her. Austin and Drake were nearby.

Allison: Peyton, whose kid is that?

Kyle: He’s Callum’s.

With the speaking of his name, Callum materialized, coming forth and already in spitfire mode.

Callum (to Allison): Get away from my baby! It’s bad enough your deranged partner thinks he’s hers.

Allison (angrily): Just shut up!

Callum: Why are you here anyway?

Allison: Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m here to show my support against this outlandish recall (turning to face Austin) you’re attempting to do. Shame on you!

Callum: I would imagine you’d want to stay at home and teach your girl a lesson about monogamy.

Allison: Leave her out of this!

Austin: Well, she’s already a part of the moral problems of this club. Callum does have a point. I was a witness to her display of infidelity. I saw her sucking face with another woman over Pride Weekend.

Allison: What?

Austin: And as for your “freeze campaign” you started in hopes of stifling my mission, it was a waste of time. I’ve got all the signatures I need. Rodrigo Caldozar (gesturing toward him in the distance) was the last signature I needed.

Allison: Who the hell is he? I know everyone who’s part of this club.

Callum: Rodrigo is my new bodyguard who joined the club at the Pride Run.

Allison: Excuse me? Bodyguard?

Callum: Oh, that’s right. You did miss a lot last weekend when you were on your fruitless trip abroad. No wonder Chloe went on a feasting spree. You know that old lesbian saying: when the bitch is away, the pussies will play… and play they did!

Without thinking, Allison slapped Callum very hard, the force knocking him off balance and sending him headfirst into the sand castle Peyton had built for Edward. The castle crumbled to pieces upon impact, and the baby started crying. Callum’s face and hair were covered in the sand as he rose to shake it off.

Callum: That’s the last time I’m civil with you.

He charged for Allison, throwing all his weight into her and knocking her into the food table. The force proved too much for the table, its legs giving way, sending all the food to fall to the ground, fruit and drinks rolling into the sand. Allison fell onto her back and Callum on top of her. His hands gripped and yanked tightly on the strands of her hair as she naturally screamed in pain. Her hands reactively shot forth, defensively attempting to grab his neck, ears, or any part of his face, her nails driving into his flesh, his screams now complementing hers.

Allison: Get off me!

Her knee jammed into his groin, sending him to the ground, and she took the quick opportunity to give him a dose of his own medicine, placing her weight upon him. He grabbed a banana lying in the sand and tried to stuff it into her mouth. She grabbed a slice of cake in the sand and smashed it on his face, the frosting getting into his eyes.

Callum (trying to claw her): You bitch! (managing to get a quick slap to her cheeks)

It was then that Rodrigo separated the two of them, nearly hurling Allison several feet away as her body made a hard contact with the sand. Kyle helped Allison up, holding her back as she was ready to continue the fight.

Rodrigo: Are you okay, Mr. Sutcliffe?

Callum (trying to force through Rodrigo to get back to fighting Allison): I will be once I rip her to pieces.

Rodrigo: She’s not worth it.

Callum: Oh my God! Will you look at me? I’m a wreck. My hair and clothing are full of cake and sand.

Rodrigo: Don’t worry about it.

Callum: But I’m always so conscientious of my appearance and grooming. That does remind me, Allison, I can refer Chloe to this salon that would give her an excellent Brazilian wax. After what I saw of her earlier this week, she could do with some extensive trimming.

Allison (breaking free of Kyle): You bastard! (charging into Callum)

The entire Outrunners tent was the victim of their quarrel for this second round, the supporting poles falling to the ground with the impact of Callum and Allison’s bodies flying into them. Callum fell headfirst onto the ground, and Allison seized upon the chance to straddle his back and drive his head further into the sand, hoping to suffocate him, his mouth filling with the taste of the sand. It took two guys to pry her away from him, but it was Talon Prescott who chivalrously picked Callum from the ground, throwing him over his strong shoulders.

Callum: Put me down!

Talon: Not until you behave yourself.

Talon (eventually putting him down several yards away): What the hell has got into you? You’re not the man I fell in love with. (cutting off his rebuttal) Don’t say anything. You’re better than this. Now stay here. I’ll get some first aid. Your cheek and ears are bleeding.

Callum: Believe me when I say she’s done far worse.

Talon: I’ll be back in a few. Don’t go anywhere.

He had been gone no more than two minutes when Callum saw in the distance the Adonis-like figure of Tristan Bersani approaching the Outrunners party site. What the hell is he doing walking this earth? Granted, I hadn’t given much thought to him, having to keep my own wits about me around Talon these past few days. I had just assumed he was dead, given the way Rodrigo described handling him.

Callum (catching Tristan and Heath before they reached the congregation): You bastard!

Tristan turned around to see who was hurling invectives at him. He still looked very attractive, his hotness ruggedly accentuated even more by the slim white bandages that covered the cuts in his flesh. He looked like a boxer coming from the defeat but still taking home the lustful adoration of his fans.

Tristan: Hey, Callum, that’s some way to greet someone just out of the hospital.

Callum: And I could put you right back there for what you did to me! Yes, I know about your scheme to pull the wool over my eyes.

Heath: What’s he talking about, Tristan?

Tristan: It’s nothing. He’s just on one of his foolish rants again. Listen, why don’t you go and help them finish setting up that tent—although I don’t know why they’re doing it this late in the afternoon. Usually, it’s done first thing in the morning.

Heath (kissing him): All right, but hurry over!

Callum (once Heath is gone): Does he know his current fling of a boyfriend is also a kidnapper?

Tristan: Keep your voice down!

Callum: The hell I will! I want you punished to the full extent of the law.

Tristan: I wouldn’t go there if I were you.

Callum (laughing): So you’re going to deny the whole thing? I have it on good authority you were the one demanding ransom. (shouting) Where the hell is my money?

Tristan: You had better tone down that voice.

Callum: Or what? You can’t harm me. Or have you forgotten about the evidence I have over your head, the evidence that links you and Vittoria to the attempted murders of Nathan and Brendon?

Tristan (dramatically yawning): That’s old news. Besides, what I know about you trumps that.

Callum: Oh yeah, what would that be?

Tristan: That you’re not the little tot’s real father nor was your rich dead husband. (noticing a drastic change in Callum’s facial expression) Yeah, I know about Peyton being the real daddy, but I’m also guessing that neither the British press nor your in-laws are privy to this information.

Callum (defensively): You haven’t any proof! It would be just the word of some two-bit gigolo!

Tristan: Ouch! That hurts. (pause) But you didn’t expect this two-bit gigolo to have swabbed the baby’s mouth. But I did just that. I have several samples that I’m willing to send to—

Callum: You bastard!

Tristan: You’ve got to come up with a better nickname for me, but instead of all the namecalling, I’m thinking the next logical move would be for us to civilly discuss arrangements for a grand sum of money to be wired into my account.

Heath (suddenly coming forth): Come on, Tristan. Everyone’s been asking about you.

Tristan: Was that Kyle I just saw leaving?

Heath: Yeah, he left once he saw us arrive.

Tristan: Okay, Heath. I’ll be right there. Callum and I were just finishing up some business. (to Callum) I’ll be in touch with you. (winking) Ciao bello!

As soon as Tristan was several yards away, Callum angrily kicked his foot in the sand. The nerve of that wretch to blackmail me! Even in his angered state, Callum was startled when Nathan came behind him.

Nathan: That looked pretty intense from far away. Is everything okay between you and Tristan?

Callum: Uh-yeah—I was just—uh—

Nathan: I know. I guessed you were giving him a piece of your mind once you found out that he broke up Kyle and Heath’s relationship.

Callum: Oh, yes, he’s a downright scoundrel.

It was then that Callum saw Talon in the distance, coming straight in their direction. Callum’s heart nearly leapt from his chest. I can’t let him see me with Nathan. He’ll ruin everything! He grabbed Nathan and persuaded him in a quick run to the Santa Monica Pier.

Nathan (running alongside Callum): I think there’s some guy back there yelling for you.

Callum: It’s just some nagging reporter who’s been trying to interview me all day about the kidnapping. Let’s just keep running.

Nathan: I don’t think we’re going to lose him. He’s following us and appears to be a good runner.

They continued running for the next ten minutes, remaining a considerable distance ahead of Talon, who never once gave up in his quest to reach them. Callum and Nathan finally reached the Santa Monica Pier, which was crowded with tourists in the early July sunshine. Thank goodness! We should lose Talon in this throng of people. But then Nathan alerted him to the fact Talon had followed them onto the pier, still shouting his name. Callum saw an immediate way out his predicament, pulling Nathan along with him to the Ferris wheel , dexterously jamming two $100 notes into the conductor’s hand with the express demand that the machine suddenly stop when their car reaches the top. Nathan, for his part, was mostly taken aback by the hurriedness of Callum’s action, feeling as if his arm would be torn from his body. Safe in the confines of their car on the Ferris wheel, Nathan met the unexpected “situation” of the machine stopping surprisingly well.

Nathan: I’m not sure if I told you I was acrophobic.

Callum (looking alarmed): Nathan, I’m sorry.

Nathan: Don’t worry. It’s not like this is your fault. Besides, I was just joking with you.

Callum (playfully hitting him): How dare you! I was about to phone in a rescue helicopter.

Nathan (laughing): I love your accent… how you say “helicopter.” (releasing a deep sigh) That felt good to laugh after all these days of despair.

Callum (placing his hand on Nathan’s knee): I’m really sorry I haven’t been much of a friend lately. I’ve had company and then there’s been Edward to tend to…

Nathan (placing his own hand over Callum’s hand that’s on his knee): I understand. (pause) Why are you crying? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.

Callum: I’ve been through so much emotionally this past week. It just feels great to—(interlacing his fingers with Nathan) to have a special friend like you.

Nathan: Look, Callum, I just want you to know I really—really value what we have, but I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me. It seems everytime I’ve kissed you that you were in a very vulnerable state—and coupled with the current charges against me—I don’t desire to be seen in your eyes as predatory.

Callum: You’re far from it. You’re a proper gentleman who I respect.

Nathan (leaning toward him): May this “proper gentleman” kiss you?

Callum: I thought you would never ask.

The minutes their mouths touched, the machine kicked back into gear, their car beginning its journey to the ground, all the time their faces passionately connected. In all its magic, the moment had succeeded in foolishly relieving Callum of his present anxieties about Talon, who was nowhere to be found once they both alighted from the car, holding hands as if they been a couple for many years. Callum’s eyes did meet those of one particular spectator in the crowd, and while this individual posed no threat to the occasion as Talon would have, Callum could not resist the impulse to test the waters once more.

Callum: Kiss me again, Nathan.

Nathan: Are you sure?

Callum: I’ve never been surer of anything.

This time Callum made sure that Brendon, positioned a few yards behind Nathan’s back, could see the full spectacle of his triumph, that Nathan delivered him a soothing embrace. Besieged by the sight, Brendon angrily turned away after beholding the gloating image of Callum victoriously winking at him. As his back was to Brendon, Nathan hadn’t seen anything but Callum’s smiling face. Brendon had seen enough! Callum regrettably had never seen his antagonist’s dark side, and that would ultimately prove a fatal mistake.

TWO HOURS LATER, VITTORIA AND TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Vittoria had chosen not to go the beach, having argued with Tristan since he had arrived back from the hospital. For the past three days, Heath had been an emotional wreck, worried daily about Tristan and spending the majority of his time at the hospital with him—which meant he didn’t have time to prepare his famous blueberry pancakes to which Vittoria had become quite addicted. The reason she had mainly argued with Tristan was over the issue of the ransom money.

Tristan said that he lost it, possibly in the river. Where the hell is it? Her train of thought was interrupted by a banging at the door. When she opened it, Brendon barged right into the apartment. She was terrified to see him outside the hospital and walking on his two legs.

Brendon: Did you get the package I had delivered here earlier this week?

Vittoria: Why the hell did you send me a gun?

Brendon: It’s just a reminder of our little deal. I’m giving you less than 36 hours to come through with it or else I’m calling Mickey Giordano. You know I have his number programmed in my cell.

Vittoria: You really expect me to kill Callum?

Brendon: And I expect you to do something else. (ceremoniously withdrawing a small palm-sized velvet box that traditionally holds either rings or small articles of jewelry)

Vittoria: I’m not marrying you.

Brendon (gravely): This is no laughing matter. Open it. (upon seeing her awkward expression) Yes, those are the bullets I want you to use.

Vittoria: What’s so special about them that you had to go all fancy on them?

Brendon: These have hollow casings.

Vittoria (clueless): Is that so? And they’re special because…?

Brendon: They do real permanent damage. They explode within the body, ripping everything inside. By the close of this weekend, these bullets will find their way into Callum.

TO BE CONTINUED…