The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 16: “”Suffer the Children”

MONDAY MORNING, LONDON… SUNDAY EVENING, LOS ANGELES

Ever since her arrival in the United Kingdom, it seemed Allison was receiving the coldest reception. It was if Callum’s essence still resided in his homeland, for within hours she had been mugged and had lost her wallet, cell phone, and passport in the process. Fortunately, she had at least one credit card in her pocket and some clean clothing in her lone carry-on luggage that she had brought with her from her hospital office. After meeting with the necessary authorities, she checked into her hotel and fell asleep, the obvious effect of both jet lag and the horrendous incident.

When she awakened, she had wanted to call Chloe, but she couldn’t risk Callum finding out—much less deal with Chloe’s curiosity as to why she had left the country without telling her. She’s probably worried sick over me. I’ll be back home soon, Honey, and Callum will be a thing of the past. His reign of terror will be over once I get the necessary information needed to stop him. Perhaps I should leave Chloe a message so that she doesn’t get too worried. Allison dialed the house number from the hotel and left a simple message that she was away and would be back in a few days—and most of all for her not to worry and that all would be explained when she came back home.

Hopefully that will calm her nerves. Unfortunately for Allison, Chloe would not get the message since shortly thereafter leaving it on the answering machine, there came a power outage that erased it moments before Chloe enter the darkened house. Taking notice of the darkness, Chloe fumbled for the flashlight, and with its assistance found her way upstairs, packed a few articles of clothing, and rushed back downstairs and outside none the wiser that Allison had attempted to reach her.

As she was locking the front door, Chloe was startled by a voice. Spinning around, she was met with the presence of a tall, middle-aged, mustachioed man who immediately identified himself as Detective Jack Milton.

Milton: I’m sorry to have startled you, Miss Dalton?

Chloe: Have we met? How do you know me?

Milton: I spoke with your partner Dr. Trudeau the other day.

Chloe (anxiously): Allison? Have you seen her?

Milton: No, I haven’t. That’s why I came by here. I needed to speak with her about the park incident. When was the last time you saw her?

Chloe (growing antsy): Friday night.

Milton: That’s nearly forty-eight hours ago, Ms. Dalton. And you haven’t heard from her since then? (looking at the mini-suitcase beside her leg)

Chloe: Detective, I really need to go. As you can see, there’s a neighborhood blackout, and I don’t really feel comfortable staying here in the dark all by myself.

Milton: Yes, I understand. The heat has really come down on this city. I’m sure there’ll be more blackouts as a consequence.(pause) So Dr. Trudeau has just disappeared, leaving you all alone in this state. You were both attacked in the park. Of course, I needn’t remind you of that. I’m just finding it a little odd that your partner would “skip out on you” like this.

Chloe: Detective, I really should go now.

Milton: Please let me know if and when you hear back from Dr. Trudeau. It’s urgent I speak with her.

Chloe: I will. Thanks.

Milton: I’ll be in touch with you.

Chloe watched as the detective strode down the sidewalk and got into his car, driving off in the eastward direction. Grasping the handle of the wheeled suitcase, she rushed over to her car in the driveway, quickly got inside it, turned down the soothing classical music that had been left playing on the radio, and started the engine before leaving her darkened neighborhood.

TRISTAN AND VITTORIA’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, SUNDAY EARLY EVENING

While Tristan had chosen to volunteer at the Pride Weekend beer booths, Heath had stayed at the apartment all day, tidying the place and consequently incurring the wrath of Vittoria, who knew where to find her stuff amid her clutter. His cleaning had upset her method of style, her nerves already frayed ever since she got that phone call from Brendon a few nights ago. She had tried to call Callum, but he was not returning her messages. Something has to be done about Brendon. Surely Callum will take care of him. He won’t let him walk out that hospital in good condition, especially if he’s dead set on stealing Nathan from Brendon.

Heath, clad in only Tristan’s black silk boxers, was in the kitchen, preparing something delicious, its aroma wafting into the living room, stimulating Vittoria’s appetite. Maybe Tristan should keep this fag. He cooks and cleans (as long as he stays away from my shit). She flipped on the television at the same time there was a knock at the door.

Vittoria: Could you get that?

Heath (opening the door): Y-Yes.

Bralen: Is Tristan here?

Heath (coldly): No, he isn’t. Is there a message I can give him?

Bralen: I thought he’d be back home by now. I saw him at the festival beer booth earlier today. I wanted to show him my medal and cele— (awkward pause as he notices Tristan’s boxers on Heath) Uh, why are you here?

Heath (candidly): I’m with Tristan now.

Vittoria (turning around, bored with the television and more thrilled with the burgeoning drama in the apartment): You tell him, Girlfriend!

Bralen (laughing): What are you talking about, Heath?

Vittoria (getting off the couch and coming over): I think what Goldilocks is trying to say is that Tristan has dropped your ass for someone who cooks and cleans and doesn’t do all those strange exercises you do.

Bralen: It’s called yoga, and I’m an instructor, a yogi. (turning to Heath) And as far as I know, Tristan and I are still together. He didn’t give any indication that he wanted out. Besides, aren’t you with Kyle?

Heath (his demeanor visibly softening): No, that didn’t work out.

Vittoria (to Bralen): So I guess he’s gone after yo’ man. Now you two don’t mess up your hair getting into some bitch fight.

Bralen (pushing past Heath and going into the living room): I need to speak with Tristan.

Vittoria and Heath (in unison): He’s not here!

Bralen: Then I’ll wait for him. He’s got some explaining to do.

Heath: What’s there to explain? He’s over you and he wants me back.

Bralen: Back? Just how long have you “been with” Tristan?

Heath: Longer than he’s been with you. He was with me last night.

Vittoria: Ooh, snaps! Tell it to him, Girl!

Bralen (in full rebuttal mode): While that may be true, just who do you think he was with the night before that? (pause) That’s right. Me!

Vittoria: Yogi the Bear does have a point. He was here Friday night, and from the sounds of it, there was a third wheel involved.

Heath (incredulously): What?

Vittoria: Let me simplify this for you two bitches: YOU BOTH BEEN PLAYED! My whore ass roommate got what he wanted out of the both of you.

Bralen (to Vittoria): Would you just butt out?

Vittoria: Fine, but he’s done this a lot. And for what it’s worth, I like Heath better. As I said before, he cooks, cleans, and he’s not as loud when Tristan’s banging him.

Bralen (insulted): I’m leaving. Just tell him I stopped by. (slamming the door behind him)

Heath: Thanks, Vittoria.

Vittoria: Now get your ass back into the kitchen and finish dinner. I’m starving.

PRIDE WEEKEND FESTIVAL, WEST HOLLYWOOD, SUNDAY LATE AFTERNOON

Tristan had the most interesting day capped off with one of his most memorable nights. He had decided to work the beer booths today as he had ditched his volunteer responsibilities yesterday, and he narcissistically knew that whenever he tended the booths, he always earned the most in tips, his striking good looks the primary reason. He had been there all through the pandemonium of the baby disappearance that had threatened to shut down the whole festival.

He had no idea that he would become greatly embroiled in it. Toward the end of his six hour shift, his last customer was Peyton, who had arrived already drunk as a skunk, apparently having been thrown out a bar after exceeding his drinking limit.

Tristan: You’re not driving home like this?

Peyton (slurring): No, I-I’m a responsible person.

Tristan: Was it the booze or the size of my cock that’s got you brain dead? (pause) Just kidding. Hope you had fun the other night.

Peyton: I need to lay off the booze.

Tristan (gesturing to him): Come on back here and sit down. You need to sober up some. (pause) So I guess you heard about Callum’s son and the kidnapping. It’s really sad… would hate to be in his shoes.

Peyton: I-I need another dr-drink. (pause) You should bring out the cigars for Father’s Day.

Tristan: That was last weekend, you doofus, and besides you’re not a father.

Peyton: I’m the father of Callum’s baby. (putting finger to his mouth) Shhh! B-But no one’s supposed to know that… it’s just our little secret.

At that moment Peyton officially passed out, leaving Tristan in a state of confusion. Though it was a general rule of thumb to never put much stock into an inebriated Peyton, Tristan knew that sometimes alcohol loosened not only one’s libido but also one’s secrets. He had heard Allison mention that Callum and Peyton had a brief past back in London last year. Wait a minute! Peyton was Callum’s shrink after Callum had tragically lost his partner. That baby is not that old. There’s no way that rich husband fathered that child when he was still alive. Could there be some truth to what Peyton said? Could he be the father? And more importantly, was Callum passing the child off as his late partner’s? And if so, did Callum’s wealthy in-laws know this?

The wheels of his ingenious mind turning, Tristan thought he had just found a way to possibly get back at Callum for all the things he had done to him. It was then that Tristan received the call that would potentially change his life forever.

DETECTIVE MILTON’S HOME, LOS ANGELES, SUNDAY EVENING

Detective Milton arrived home after grabbing a quick bite at a hamburger stand. It had been an eventful weekend amounting to nothing. All he had was a mountain of speculative information, and concrete evidence was what he needed. He had his mind on three people: Dr. Allison Trudeau, Dr. Peyton Ashland, and Callum Sutcliffe. He had spoken with the staff of Hollywood Hospital, and no one had seen Dr. Trudeau since early yesterday—over 36 hours ago! Not even her partner knows where she’s gone off to… or was that just an act? Ms. Dalton genuinely looked surprised as if she hadn’t heard from Dr. Trudeau, but then again I did put the fear of the law into her partner, paying her that unexpected visit at the hospital. Perhaps the good doctor skipped town. That makes her guilty as hell in my book, blackmailing Dr. Ashland with that sex DVD in her possession.

In spite of these ruminations, his mind kept coming back to Chloe. She seemed to be in a hurry. It was true that an electrical blackout had gripped the neighborhood of Los Feliz earlier this evening, but there was just something suspect about her behavior. I wonder if she was ditching town along with Dr. Trudeau. I’ve heard about these lesbian pairings that evade the law like Thelma and Louise and that duo of hot chicks from that Bound movie. I should have found out where she was going. She looked too innocent and harmless to be involved in something unlawful, but those are the ones you’ve got to really watch out for!

One person he knew who easily wore the blanket of guilt was Dr. Peyton Ashland. That man was terrified when I made the slight remark about finding a DVD, and the most surprising aspect was that I didn’t indicate it was a sex DVD. I’m sure I could push some of his buttons and get him to admit that Dr. Trudeau was blackmailing him. But where does Callum Sutcliffe fit into this?

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, EARLY MONDAY MORNING

The haunting sounds of Radiohead’s “All I Need” opens the scene as Godfrey stands silently outside Callum’s bedroom door, having knocked several times. His impatience reaching its peak, Godfrey twisted the knob and entered the chambers only to find Callum, lying crouched in a corner, the salty remnants of tears blemishing his face, his lips murmuring nonsensical words, one of which the elderly servant recognized as “Somerset,” which closely followed the name “Gavin,” that of Lord Armitage’s birth name. Godfrey soon realized that Callum was in a near catatonic state, holding a picture of Lord Armitage close to his chest as he continued mumbling the words.

Godfrey: Are you all right, my Lord? (pause) Mr. Moynihan is downstairs in the reception area. He’s come to check on you.

Callum (the reference to Nathan having awakened him from his trance): Have they made any developments in the case?

Godfrey: None of which I’ve been informed. There are some reporters and camera crewmen outside. Do you wish to make a statement?

Callum (still crouched): This is not what I wanted. This publicity is not good. Everything’s falling apart. I’ve lost everything. I’ve made a wreck of too many people’s lives already. This is karma for what I did with Justin. Now I know what I put Nathan through, but I’ll be damned if I ruin an innocent child’s life. I’ll do whatever it takes for his safe return.

Godfrey: Do you wish for me to get rid of the reporters?

Callum (rising and moving toward the door): No, I’ll handle them.

Godfrey: (his hand shooting out and stopping Callum from moving any further) I’m sure you wouldn’t want Mr. Moynihan (wresting the framed photo from Callum’s possession) to see you in this state.

Callum (mental clarity momentarily coming back to him): Thank you, Godfrey, for averting that catastrophe.

Callum rushed into the bathroom quickly to shower and get dressed and then rushed downstairs to see Nathan sitting on the couch.

Nathan (rising): Callum, how are you?

Callum: I’m not sure I’ll make it through today. I was just about to speak to the media.

Nathan: Did you want me to stand by you? (pause) That sounded awkward to say.

Callum: I know what you meant. Nathan, I really appreciate your support, but you really should be at the hospital with Brendon and Justin.

Nathan (firmly placing his hand on Callum’s shoulder): I’ll head there after I’ve made sure you’re fine.

They then went outside, and over the news camera Callum thanked everyone for all their assistance and support in this matter. He pled with whomever had taken Edward to safely return him, specifically stating that he would pay a hefty sum if he were brought home soon. Callum then burst into tears and nearly collapsed onto the ground had Nathan’s strong arms not been there to catch him. The news camera caught this moment in all its histrionic glory.

DRAKE AND AUSTIN’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD, SAME TIME (MONDAY MORNING)

Watching the news, Austin Monroe placed another private call on his cell as he enjoyed his second cup of strong, black coffee that morning. This time the call was answered on the second ring.

Austin: Hey, Lance, did you get the results?

Lance: You owe me big time for going into the lab on a Sunday night to test the contents of a syringe.

Austin (impatiently): Well, is it…?

Lance: Meth? No, it wasn’t. I won’t bother you with its polysyllabic clinical name, but it was steroids. (pause) Why was it so important to know this, Austin? Are any of your boys taking this to buff up for their spreads?

Austin: No, all my models are clean. Anyway, Lance, thanks for the favor. Let’s do lunch sometime .

So Mr. Olympian Bralen Jones is taking steroids. Some act he put on yesterday when got a personal record in the Pride Run. Well, you can kiss your Olympic dreams goodbye once the IOC finds out about this. At that moment, Drake stumbled into the kitchen, stretching and yawning.

Drake: Are you watching the news? Callum is on.

Austin (turning around to the television in time to see Nathan catch a fainting Callum): Was that Nathan?

Drake: Yeah, it looks like him. Even with such a despicable person like Callum, Nathan has always been such a considerate and supportive guy.

Austin (sotto voce): And a possible pedophile. (aloud) I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m definitely running for president of Outrunners. This club is fast going to hell in a hand basket.

Drake: Don’t be so melodramatic. I’m sure things will calm down by the time elections are held in December.

Austin: I’m not waiting until then. I’m talking a special recall to immediately replace Brendon and Nathan as executive leaders.

Drake: Are you serious? I think all that talk about Governor Schwarzenegger has gone to your head.

Austin: Yeah, well, that’s how he became governor of California, supplanting Gray Davis. I’m within my own rights. I’ve read the bylaws and all I need is a majority of club signatures. I’ve already drafted the petition, and I’m getting ready to send out an official email announcement of my candidacy.

Drake: Why is this so important?

Austin: Drake, you and I practically ran and represented Outrunners during Pride Weekend. On Friday, you had to speak on behalf of the Executive Board since Allison had to take Chloe home. Brendon and Nathan were also nowhere to be seen that evening. On Saturday, I had to do extra time volunteering because Bralen wasn’t feeling well—not to mention that Tristan ditched his duties that day. And well, yesterday we had to give out medals to the winners. Sheesh! Sometimes I feel like we are the Los Angeles Outrunners. (pause) Besides, if you knew what I’ve learned about a few of our club members over this weekend, you’d want to do some cleaning shop as well.

Drake: What did you find out?

Austin: I’m sure you’ll learn of it soon enough without my telling you.

Drake: What about your business relationship with Brendon’s production company? Won’t this cause much tension between you two?

Austin: Not really. I mainly work with his business partner. At any rate, I need to know you’ll support me.

Drake: You know I will.

Austin (kissing him): Good! Now that’s settled. What’s for breakfast?

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, MONDAY, LATE MORNING

Rodrigo arrived at Callum’s home under the guise of getting all of his autographed novels. He really wanted to know how Callum was holding up. He had seen the news coverage that morning, and saw that Callum had fainted. He looked awful onscreen and he was still with that Nathan guy. What’s the deal with those two? They were together all day yesterday. I should have been there for you, Callum, instead of him. Next time… definitely next time!

Godfrey answered the door and cautiously let Rodrigo enter, sending him to the reception area while he went to alert Callum. Rodrigo could hear some weeping in the background and knew it definitely wasn’t Callum who was doing it, for he soon heard the tone of his calm voice.

Callum (heard prior to his entrance into the reception area): Inga, would you please take your wailing into the other wing? I already have a headache, and you’re only making it worse.

Rodrigo (rising): Mr. Sutcliffe.

Callum: You’ll have to pardon Inga. She partially blames herself for what happened to Edward. She was not feeling well enough yesterday to accompany me to the Pride Run to properly look after Edward.

Rodrigo: Have you heard anything?

Callum: Nothing so far, although I’ve been on the phone with the police department one too many times. (pause) Anyway, I assume you’re here for the books. They’re in the other room. I’ll get them—

Rodrigo: No, don’t worry. It’s the same room as the other day, right? (leaves upon Callum’s affirmative nod)

As he rose and went into the room, his backpack fell off the seat, its contents spilling on the floor. Callum immediately noticed his name either inscribed or typed onto various letters. He soon realized it was mail. What would Rodrigo be doing with it? Perhaps he was kind enough to bring inside to me. Picking up the packets, he rifled through it until he came across a nondescript envelope that had just his name written upon it. He opened it and read what he had both feared and expected—a ransom note for the safe return of Edward.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, EARLIER THAT DAY

After leaving Callum’s house, Nathan decided it was time to clean up his own mess. I need to get to the hospital and set things straight with Justin… get him to confess to lying before this blows out of control. Once he reached the floor of Justin’s room, he was met with a reception that he had experienced just an hour before at Callum’s—namely the media. There were two reporters in the room with Justin, one of whom had a camera on him. What were they talking about?

Nathan (knocking and entering): Justin, I need to speak with you.

Justin: I have nothing to say to you, Nathan.

Nathan: Why are you lying about this?

Reporter: Are you Mr. Nathan Moynihan?

Nathan (to cameraman): Would you turn that off? (to reporter) Would you mind stepping out for a moment? I need to speak with him privately.

Justin: Nathan, leave me alone. (to reporter) Could you call security?

Nathan: I can’t believe you’ve gone to the media with this bogus lie.

Justin: I already spoke with the WeHo Beat and the Hollycove Tribune. People need to know what kind of a sick guy you really are!

At that moment, a security guard entered the room—a cue for Nathan to leave, but he rushed up to Brendon’s room where he go the coldest reception of them all.

Nathan: Bren, he’s gone to the media with this story. You have to stop him. What if people—the school board—hear about this?

Brendon: I’m sure “your boyfriend” can afford you an expensive attorney. I’m sure it’s the least he can do for you providing him a warm body to fall back into—like you did earlier this morning for him on TV.

ESTRELLA TARTARO’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, SUNDAY EVENING

The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of excitement for Estrella. On Sunday morning, she had awakened with the worst hangover, barely recalling what had happened on Saturday night, although finding a sleeping woman in bed next to her lent her somewhat of an idea of what happened. It had been one of those nights. She would have to go through the same shtick, breaking it to her easily that she was not that interested in women and that last night had been a mistake. She didn’t know the woman’s name.

Estrella rose and took a shower. When she came out, she was spared the ordeal, for the woman had apparently taken leave. Well, I hope she loses my address. I still can’t believe I did that. Oh, well, hopefully it was good enough for her since I don’t remember a damn thing. It was then that she got a phone call from one of her clients, seeking to settle a case out of court. This is potentially good news, although I’m not sure it’ll fly well. She went to prepare something to remedy her headache and fell back asleep out of sheer exhaustion. She woke up a few hours later, put in a call to Tristan, who reluctantly made it over to her house later that evening.

Tristan: What do you want, Estrella? I thought I told you it was over between us.

Estrella: Well, I thought you would want to know that the Debenhams are willing to settle out of court. They’re asking for $300,000.

Tristan: I was quoted a rumored figure of $250,000.

Estrella: What difference does it make? I’m betting either way you don’t have the money.

Tristan: Get that look out your eyes, Estrella. I know what you’re thinking.

It was then that the door rang, prompting Tristan to dart into the adjoining room, not wanting to be seen in Estrella’s company. She opened the door, and there stood the woman to whom she had awakened in bed that morning—only this time she held an infant in her arms. What the hell?

Estrella: Yes, how may I help you?

Chloe: I had no one else to turn to. Some people are trying to take my baby away from me.

The child started crying, and Chloe attempted to coo him back to sleep. Estrella gestured for her to come inside. Jesus, what have I gotten myself into this time? Then came a flicker of memory.

Estrella: You came by the legal aid booth yesterday. Now, you said someone is trying to take your baby. I’m assuming you’re talking about the biological father and perhaps a custody battle he’s waging.

Tristan couldn’t believe what he was hearing—or rather eavesdropping. He recognized Chloe’s voice and knew damn well she wasn’t he mother of the baby she was claiming as hers. What a coincidence that Callum’s son goes missing, and Chloe miraculously has a baby now—especially after her outbreak at Fancy’s Restaurant on Friday night when she thought the baby was hers.

Chloe: Estrella, I really need your help. They want to take my baby from me.

Estrella: Who are they?

Chloe: The police!

It was then that Tristan hatched his scheme.

KYLE WALGROVE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD, MONDAY

Nick Lachey’s “I Can’t Hate You Anymore” plays over the following scene as darkness swallowed the figure of Kyle Walgrove. He had called in sick to the station and sat in the living room in the reclining chair, thinking of the mess he had made of his life. He had closed the blinds and turned off the lights, although slivers of light managed to slip into the room, revealing that the infamous photo album lay in his lap. He had gone through the task of removing any indication of Tristan and Heath from it. The ashes of those photos lay at the bottom of the nearest trash bin. Kyle’s hand shot out and grasped the bottle of vodka, and he took a quick swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling the growing stubble as he hadn’t shaved in two days.

He flipped through the expurgated album, recalling Heath’s laughter and amusement at the photos in the front. How things would be different if he hadn’t strayed from our love. We were so good together. I loved you, and you loved me. No, not loved… but love… I still love you, Heath, but you’ve moved on… moved onto that bastard Tristan. His hand automatically brushed over the loaded gun lying on the arm of the chair. That bastard doesn’t deserve you. He ruined you… desecrated you… turned you into some sex freak… you’re not the same man, but I can’t give up on you… on us! Kyle’s hand then tensed as he firmly grasped the gun.

ESTRELLA’S HOME, SUNDAY NIGHT/MONDAY NOONTIME

Estrella stood paralyzed at the reference to the police. Had this woman kidnapped this baby? And was I foolish enough to sleep with her last night? Oh, God, I’ve got limit the booze to two. Estrella’s cell phone rang at that moment. She answered it, instantly seeing a panicked Chloe head for the door.

Tristan (on the phone): Don’t let her leave!

Estrella: Please don’t go! I can help you.

Tristan: Come up with some excuse to make Chloe stay.

Chloe? So that was the woman’s name. I vaguely remember that name from the bar last night. But why is Tristan giving me instructions?

Estrella: Chloe, please stay. We can talk about your case.

Chloe: Oh, thank you, Estrella. I-I knew you would understand that a mother shouldn’t be separated from her baby.

Estrella: What’s his name?

Chloe: The police and everyone keep calling him Edward, but that’s not the name I gave him. His real name is Jacob. (pause) Who’s that you’re talking to on the phone?

Tristan: Tell her it’s a friend from work. Make some excuse to come me in the other room.

Estrella (to Chloe): It’s a coworker at the festival. (speaking into the phone) I’ll call you back later. (snapping phone shut)

Chloe (the baby having started crying again): I think he needs changing, but I’ve run out of diapers.

Estrella: I’ll go get some fresh cloths from the other room. That’ll suffice until we can get to the store. Be right back (leaving the room and entering the other one)

Tristan (whispering): Good job!

Estrella: What the fuck is this, Tristan? Do you know that woman? Is that even her baby?

Tristan: No, it’s not. She kidnapped him earlier today.

Estrella: What the—

Tristan: Shh! The poor girl thinks it’s hers! She did the same thing Friday night—not wanting to give the baby back to Callum except Allison was nearby to calm her down.

The reference to those two names helped Estrella put the pieces together. Ah hah! Chloe… as in Chloe Dalton, partner to Dr. Allison Trudeau, both of whom were attacked in Griffith Park. I read that she had miscarried her baby as a result of the attack. And now she thinks that this baby is hers, but it’s Callum’s… as in Callum Sutcliffe! What a coincidence!

Estrella: I need a drink!

Tristan: Now is not the time to get drunk. Listen, I’ve just figured a way for us to get rich quickly. Are you game for it?

Estrella: What are you thinking?

Tristan: Chloe is practically harmless. Make up some reason for her to stay the night. We can take the baby away from her when she’s not looking. Like I said, it happened last Friday at a restaurant.

Estrella: And then what? We contact Callum and get a reward for returning his son?

Tristan (adamantly): No.

Estrella: Pardon?

Tristan: Not reward but ransom.

That had been last night, and Tristan had managed to get Estrella to go along with the plan. She had even worked her mojo to get Chloe to stay the night. He had caught the morning news and had seen Callum was willing to pay for the safe return of Edward. It was then that he had crafted the note, cryptically wording it in such a way to ensure Callum’s full cooperation.

The ransom note should be there by now. I had dropped it in the mailbox seconds after the postman made his daily delivery. Callum’s definitely going through with this… or else his perfect world will come crashing down upon him.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, MONDAY NOONTIME

Godfrey: Shouldn’t we contact the police about the ransom note?

Callum: Absolutely not! We’ve already received too much unwanted publicity. What if this got back to Eleanor and the rest of Gavin’s family? Thank goodness, most Americans aren’t into following the lives of famous authors. This shouldn’t make national news.

Godfrey (disbelievingly): So you’re going to give into the demands of the ransom?

Callum: If the police know of this ransom, it will definitely become a media storm, and I definitely can’t risk that. Besides, do you think the Los Angeles police can really find Edward? Hell, they couldn’t find Justin, and he was staying with me the whole time—mere yardage from his own home.

Godfrey: May I see the letter? (given it and glancing through it) Bloody hell! One million dollars! Whoever kidnapped him knew you were wealthy. (pause) The demands seem fairly simple. Obviously, they want no police to be notified of this letter, but to leave the money in a briefcase on the banks of the Los Angeles River seems rather questionable to me. And just where is this Atwater Village location?

Callum: I looked it up online. It’s near Silver Lake, and the Los Angeles River runs through it. I don’t care how odd a location it may seem. That doesn’t matter to me. I just want this to be over. I’ve already spoken with my accountants, and they’re working on getting the money prepared.

Godfrey: Can you even trust them not to go to the police? Naturally, their suspicions shall be alerted with your asking for such a large sum of money so soon after your son’s disappearance.

Callum: They know to be discreet about this measure. (pause) Why do you look so pensive, Godfrey? You don’t think this a good measure?

Godfrey: I wish I knew who was behind this whole heinous act. Surely you must know who’s behind it.

Callum: I have a whole legion of enemies but none that would purposely abduct a child. My first thought was that nutter Chloe. She did think Edward was her baby and didn’t want to give him back to me at the restaurant the other night.

Godfrey: Well, have you gone to see her? Perhaps she is the—

Callum (cutting him off): No, she wouldn’t be behind this. Besides, it like I just told you. She wouldn’t want to give the baby back to me, therefore I can’t imagine her asking for ransom for his return!

Godfrey (heavily sighing): Okay, who else could it be? Perhaps Mr. Moynihan’s partner?

Callum: Brendon? He’s wheelchair-bound. I can’t imagine him engineering this scheme. (sighing heavily now and frantically raking his hands through his hair) I honestly don’t know what to think anymore. I just want Edward back home!

Godfrey: You honestly haven’t been in your right mind since this morning when I found you upstairs. Callum, I’ve never seen you in such a state since Lord Armitage was lost at sea.

Callum: And you only call me by my birth name when you’re really worried.

Godfrey: You very nearly made a mistake this morning that would have unwittingly blown your cover.

Callum (sighing deeply): Which may already be blown, given what I know.

Godfey: What had you at such unease? And don’t lie to me. I can read you like a book, you know.

Callum (softly spoken): Just like Gavin could read me. (suddenly falling into the nearest chair, his face contorting into an expression of sincere trepidation)

Godfrey: You kept saying his name this morning. Had you dreamt of him again? That must be what has you so distressed. (pause) Were you dreaming of a holiday you had with him in Somerset? (suddenly witnessing a shade of fear in Callum’s eyes and rushing to explain himself) You kept murmuring “Somerset” alongside Lord Armitage’s name in your catatonic state so I assumed you were talking about a holiday—

Callum (cutting him off): Gavin and I never went to Somerset together. I was speaking not of the county but of Somerset House.

Godfrey (shockingly making the connection): Oh, my God!

Callum (recognizing the astonishment in Godfrey’s eyes): Yes, someone foolishly went in search of information about me at Somerset House.

Gavin: Well, that’s not an instant cause for concern. They won’t immediately find anything.

Callum: You’re quite right there. But it’s only a matter of time before they find their way to Identity and Passport Services, and should they go in search of me there, we both know what will be found. It would lead them straight to Gavin, and that must be prevented at all costs.

TO BE CONTINUED…

The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 15: “Gone Baby Gone”

The ethereal voice of Elisabeth Fraser on Craig Armstrong’s “This Love” opens this episode as Lord Gavin Armitage lights the final candle in his darkened bedroom before going over to the bed on which lay his lover Callum Sutcliffe, his head softly cushioned against a red satin pillow. Gavin bent down and kissed his sweet, tender lips in hopes of igniting his passionate drive. Callum’s hands shot forth to Gavin’s shirt, seductively reaching for the buttons, and slowly twisting them until the garment loosely fell over Gavin’s shoulder to reveal the magnificent musculature of his upper body.

Taking a deep breath, Callum looked up into the eyes of his publisher, the man who had given him the start of his illustrious career, the gentleman who had wooed him for the past several months, and the nobleman who desired for him to become part of his grand world. Gavin could sense Callum’s hesitance and thus was the one whose hands went to cradle Callum’s face before leaning in for the kiss. When their lips parted, he felt Callum’s head rest softly on his shoulder for a brief moment before Callum’s mouth began exploring his neck.

Gavin: Are you sure you want to go through with this?

Callum: Why do you ask?

Gavin: You just seem very shy about this. I’ve told you this won’t change anything between us, although you know how I really feel about you.

Callum: Yes, I’ve known ever since you read some of my writing samples.

It was then that Gavin’s strong hands grasped Callum’s torso and pinned him further down to the bed, his mouth overpoweringly kissing the younger man with a feverish passion. He could feel the rigidity of Callum’s body, at first resistant to his control but soon softening to his amorous sway. His hands pulled the shirt over Callum’s head to see the silken skin of his youthful body before he went back to titillating him with his mouth and tongue, the nipples the first target of Gavin’s ardent mission. He heard Callum begin to moan as his mouth roamed over all exposed parts of his body, especially when Gavin’s nimble tongue sought temporary refuge in many pleasure spots which would be revisited several times over again and again—most notably the navel region and the happy trail below it.

His hands then deftly went to work pulling off Callum’s trousers, the warmth of his touch still melting away Callum’s nervous reserve. It was when his mouth finally reached the erogenous zone that Gavin knew he had finally accomplished his goal. He drew on Callum’s burgeoning hardness, wetting it with his moist hunger and pulling on it with his own avid lips. He delighted in granting Callum pleasure, this mature, wise-beyond-his-years bloke whom he had seen rise from being an incredibly gifted student at Oxford to become one of the country’s most vibrant authors and the cash cow for his family’s publishing empire. I know it may be wrong to mix business with pleasure, but I really feel something special with him. His spirited personality and spitfire wit are just incomparable! I’ve never felt this way about someone in a long time and to hell with what anyone else thinks.

Gavin: I love you, Callum.

Should I have said that? Aside from his hesitance at speaking his mind, Gavin continued to orally gratify the man with whom he fallen in love, having raised Callum’s bottom and his mouth now seeking to drive Callum into the wildest throes of passion. He had parted the buttocks and partook in the treasure of intimately pleasing him, feeling his body begin to writhe uncontrollably as his tongue continued to sweep over Callum’s most sensitive area. It was then that he heard the words part from his soon-to-be lover’s lips.

Callum: I love you, too.

Months of “courting” had finally paid off with this brilliant acknowledgement. The romantic punting on the river, that weekend spent together in the Lake District, the nights spent at his penthouse before the fireplace as he and Callum worked through his latest manuscript… all seemed pale in comparison to this moment of sheer bliss. He sensed this was Callum’s first experience with a real man, based upon the flushes of youth that complemented the boy’s reaction to his lovemaking, the moans and hesitant gestures that only one of virginal status would make. Gavin then felt his supposition confirmed when he next ventured to fully enter Callum , instantly met with Callum’s hands as they shot out to prevent him from going all the way.

Gavin (softly-spoken): I promise I won’t hurt you… (kissing him tenderly) I’ll be gentle.

Callum: I don’t know about this…

It was with another of Gavin’s effectively persuasive kisses that Callum’s uncertainty had been soothed, and he surrendered himself entirely. Lying on his back, he felt at comfort, looking at Gavin’s striking physique as he worked at entering him. Callum tried to compose his frantic mind. Just calm down… breathe in… breathe out… this is such a magical moment! I can handle this… I’ve known him for some years now… this is just an elevation in our ongoing relationship. He’ll be good to me. I really love him… he’s so fit, so amazing… so great for me… and he promised me he would be tender with me… owww!

Gavin had successfully made it past that threshold, the tightness of Callum’s virginal passage reflected in both the expression of pleasure that immediately crossed Gavin’s face and the look of mild pain that instantly graced Callum’s countenance. Gavin without delay bent down to kiss him, hoping that the softness of the touch would ease away any lingering remnants of pain that had afflicted Callum. He remained inside himself for a moment, their eyes locked, Callum’s doe-eyed while Gavin’s burned with the determination to carry on…

Gavin: Do you want me to stop? I don’t want to hurt you.

Callum (tears welling in his eyes): No, I want to do this.

Gavin (wiping away tears with his thumb): Don’t cry. (kissing him again) I’ll take good care of you.

Gavin then mildly upped the tempo as he moved his hips ever so gently, furthering entering Callum. He felt little resistance and proceeded to passionately unite his body with Callum’s all the time kissing on the young man’s neck as he had his head tilted to the side. In that particular position, he could not see that Callum’s crying had continued, punctuated by his muffled whimpers. Neither did Gavin see the way Callum’s hands clutched at the bed sheets, the grip threatening to rip them. It was only when those same hands had seized upon his flesh, the nails driving into it, that Gavin soon realized that his passion had been too overwhelming for Callum, but by that point, he achieved the orgasm that had eluded him ever since he had been enamored with the young man several years back. He had then foolishly mistaken Callum’s final cry of pain for the boy’s climax.

It was then that Callum awoke from the dream that had taken possession of him. Cold sweat cloaked his body like a second skin. He reached for something to dry himself when the phone suddenly rang. Answering it, he was greeted with the voice of Nathan Moynihan, calling him to wish him a good morning and to offer an apology for his curt behavior last night in the hospital when he had pushed him out Brendon’s hospital room. How ironic to dream of one lover and to be in contact with the other mere seconds later! I must remain in Nathan’s good graces no matter the cost!

Callum: Oh, Nathan, I know you didn’t mean it. You were only looking out for Brendon. (pause) How is he by the way?

Nathan: He’s fine. I just left him at the hospital. I’m on my way to the Pride Run location right now. I just hope that the volunteers are already there. So much stuff has to be done.

Callum: Well, I’ll be there soon. You can count on me for any help. I had a great idea I wanted to run by you about having a volunteer appreciation party at the beach next week.

Nathan: That sounds like a great idea.

Callum: I’ll fund it myself.

Nathan: That’s awfully kind of you.

Callum: It’s the least I can do. As president of Outrunners, you have been most welcoming of me, and I really wish to express my gratitude. Now I just need to get the word out.

Nathan: I’ll make the announcement today before the Pride Run.

Callum: Oh, that would be great.

Nathan: Well, I’ve just arrived here. I’ll see you soon.

Callum: Yes, you will. Bye!

Terminating the call, Callum fell back onto the bed, unmindful of the sogginess of the sheets, triggered by the disturbing reminder of the past love of his life. Now his mind was lasciviously thinking that these same sheets would be in a similar state after he and Nathan had their first wild romp.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, JUSTIN ROBERTS’ ROOM, SUNDAY MORNING

Brendon: Do you mean sexually?

Justin: He sure as hell wasn’t trying to force a hug on me. (pause) What was I supposed to do? He’s much stronger than me.

Brendon: Why didn’t you tell somebody?

Justin: Who would believe me over him?

Brendon: Are you sure of what happened? That you didn’t imagine—

Justin: What the hell? My own uncle doesn’t believe me. (tears flowing now)

Brendon: Justin, it’s just that I know you’ve been through a lot this past month. I just want you to be sure of what you’re saying.

Justin: Did he tell you what happened, Uncle Brendon? (pause) What has he said about me?

Brendon (interlacing his hands with Justin’s): Don’t you worry yourself with that.

Justin: He never liked me from the start. I bet he was praying that I died in the crash.

Brendon: Don’t say such a thing! Nathan is a very decent man and wouldn’t wish harm upon anyone.

Justin: Was it decent of him to try and molest me?

Brendon: Justin, I just can’t believe…

Justin: So Nathan gets away with it. My word against his… you believe him over your own flesh and blood. (pause) Go ahead and believe in him. I’m sure he’ll disappoint you eventually. He’s a completely different person when you’re not around.

The last phrase conjured up images of Nathan’s infidelity with Callum and that awful kiss of betrayal. Was it possible that Justin was speaking the truth? Have I been wrong about Nathan all this time? He did keep the news of Justin’s disappearance from me, not to mention he’s been adamantly preaching about Justin’s shortcomings. Was he already trying to build a case against Justin by denigrating his character? I have to know more!

Brendon: Where have you been this entire time? Everyone’s been worried sick over you. Why didn’t you go to the police? Kyle would surely have helped you.

Justin (shouting): For the last time, I had to stay hidden since no one here would believe that Nathan tried to molest me.

The beginning of Justin’s exclamation coincided with the opening of the door as Austin Monroe walked into the room, holding some flowers and gifts.

Austin (having heard more than enough): I-I think that I’ll come back later (placing the gifts and flowers on the nearest chair). Sorry for the interruption. (making a speedy exit)

Brendon: Calm down, son. (quickly noting his error) I can see this has you very agitated. I’m going to talk to Nathan about this.

Justin: He’ll just lie about it. (tears starting to well once more in his eyes) You do believe me, Uncle Brendon? (crying now) I wish Mom were here. I want to go home. I want my mom.

Brendon moved over and attempted to hold his crying son in his arms. I know it hurts. You may not have your mother, but you sure as hell have your father here. And I’m not going anywhere! I promise I’m going to this right.

Brendon: Yes, Justin, I believe you.

MEANWHILE IN WEST HOLLYWOOD…

Kyle had phoned all Outrunners he knew, asking them if they had seen Heath. Most had gone straight to voicemail. It was the day of the Pride Run so most of them were at the venue, getting ready for the starting point of the race. Where was Heath? Where had he slept last night? Kyle next phoned the firefighting squad to see if Heath had stayed the night with them. Getting the awful response that Heath hadn’t been seen, Kyle began once more to think the unthinkable. He was a bit upset, and he can be such a fragile soul. But would he do such a thing? Oh, God, please don’t let that be the case!

He had driven over most of West Hollywood, and ironically was passing the apartment complex where Tristan Bersani lived. Of all members on the Outrunners roster that he had rang, Tristan had been characteristically left off. But maybe he knows where Heath is. Oh, God, just let him be safe wherever he is. I hope I haven’t driven him to do anything desperate…

As Kyle ponders these thoughts outside Tristan’s door, OneRepublic’s “Apologize” begins playing. After two harsh pounds against the door, it was answered by the one other person he didn’t wish to see.

Vittoria: What the fuck do you want this early in the morning?

Kyle: I haven’t time for your shit, Vittoria. Is Tristan here?

Vittoria: Yeah, what do you want with him?

Kyle: I need to ask him if he’s seen Heath.

Vittoria: Who? (pause) Are you talking about the blond guy?

Kyle: Yes, have you seen him?

Vittoria (detecting the desperation in Kyle’s voice): What if I have?

Kyle: Stop playing games. Where did you see him?

Vittoria (pausing for dramatic effect): I didn’t see him. (seeing Kyle grow angry and turn to walk away, catching him just before he’s out of earshot) but I did hear him.

Kyle (turning around): What? Where?

Vittoria: In Tristan’s bedroom. I think Tristan must have fucked the shit out of him since I didn’t get one wink of sleep last night.

Kyle (visibly choking on the news): H-Heath stayed the night?

Vittoria: Yeah, they never left the bedroom. Anything else you want to know?

Kyle: No thanks.

Kyle scurried away, oblivious of his direction, eventually coming out into the courtyard where his eyes took in the sight of Heath and Tristan playing near the pool. Tristan had just pushed Heath into the water, the sounds mutual laughter an immediate successor to the action.

Well, Heath, it looks like you’re happy. You’ve moved on already… back to him. Goodbye. These farewell thoughts having run their course through Kyle’s mind, he turned to leave and as if the cosmos had planned it, Heath looked up at precisely that second to see his would-be husband solemnly departing, the permanence of disappointment written in his body language.

SANTA MONICA BOULEVARD, PRIDE WEEKEND FESTIVAL, WEST HOLLYWOOD

The Pride Run was in full swing when Callum arrived in West Hollywood, the energy vibrant in the air. The volunteers were boisterously assisting the runners, many of whom already had their numbered placards on their bodies. Callum had chosen to bring little Edward with him as he had read that it was a family-friendly event, and they even had a children’s race—which Edward would naturally not participate in until he was of suitable age. Callum then saw Nathan near the stage, and he pushed the pram over in that direction, Nathan’s face lighting up when he saw Edward.

Nathan (bending over to look at him): How you doing, Little Guy? He looks healthy. That’s a killer smile he has. Soon you’ll be beating back all the girls at the doorstep, Callum.

Callum: Yeah, it’s hard to imagine how he was several days ago. I thank God for your support, Nathan, through all that.

Nathan: It’s no problem. (pause) I know you’re most likely the wrong person to ask, but have you seen Allison this morning? It’s about time for the Exec Board to make announcements. I wanted all of us to stand on stage together.

Callum: I haven’t the faintest clue where Allison could be… (sotto voce) although hell would be a safe bet.

Nathan: Chloe was burning up my phone yesterday, hoping to track her down. Anyway, I’ll be sure to make the announcement about the beach party for the all the volunteers. Thanks again for offering your support.

Nathan turned and disappeared into the ever-increasing crowd. Callum was about to follow him when Drake confronted him.

Drake: What were you doing with Nathan? I saw you in Justin’s room yesterday. I told Brendon about it.

Callum: So you’re the reason why he came after me guns blazing.

Drake: I knew you had something to do with Justin’s disappearance. Thanks to your influence that morning, I had started to doubt myself when I had seen him in your pool, but now I know it was him that I saw. How else could he have got such easy access to steal your car and money?

Callum: I reckon you would know a thing or two about stealing since you and Dr. Ashland visited my home with the intention of stealing from me.

Drake (vehemently): That’s a lie!

Callum: I guess that settles it. We’re both accused of actions which neither of us have done.

Drake (moving in closer to Callum): Except you’re guilty as sin. I’m going to Kyle with this information.

Callum: Exactly how did the good doctor persuade you to go along with his plan? You must have opened up to his wily persuasions after he thoroughly examined your credentials from top to bottom.

Drake (pushing his hands into Callum’s chest, knocking him back a few feet): It was not like that! How dare you imply anything happened between us!

Callum (recomposing himself): Oh, wow, you are a Bostonian spitfire, Drake. Didn’t know you had it in you!

At that moment, a pair of powerful hands latched onto Drake’s shoulders, spun him around, and slammed hard into his chest, knocking him off balance. Right before his bottom hit the ground, his eyes took in the sight of a hunky, well-chiseled frame of a Latin Adonis whose face was blindly contorted with the expression of anger.

Callum: Rodrigo, what are you doing here?

Rodrigo (to Drake): Now you know how it feels to be pushed around. (to Callum) I came here to run in the race.

Drake (rising from the ground, wiping dirt off himself): Who the hell are you?

Austin (rushing over): Is everything all right? I just saw this guy attack you. (to Rodrigo) Who the hell do you think you are?

Rodrigo: I’m his biggest—

Callum (cutting him off): This is Rodrigo, my new bodyguard. He was just coming to my defense. Drake initiated the spat.

Austin: Bodyguard?

Callum: Well, after the two attacks in the park and when Allison assaulted me, I felt I should invest in my own personal safety.

Austin: Well, tell your henchman to back off. Today’s not the day for violence.

Callum: How noble of you to stick up for your man. He really doesn’t deserve you, Austin.

Two separate events occurred at precisely that moment to prevent Austin from making a suitable rebuttal: Edward began crying in the pram, diverting Callum’s attention away from his would-be debate opponent, and Nathan’s voice boomed through the loudspeaker across the venue as he welcomed everyone to the Pride Run in West Hollywood. Callum cradled the baby and attempted to quiet him as Nathan prattled on about the merits of the GLBT community and championing the causes of the club’s beneficiary, a private performing arts center that catered primarily to gay and lesbian youth. He then thanked all the volunteers and then announced the upcoming volunteers’ appreciation beach party.

It was then that Nathan received the urgent phone call from Brendon, demanding he drop everything and return to the hospital at once. He got no further details but figured it had to be about Justin aside from the tone of his voice, Brendon had seemed well earlier that day. Nathan hurriedly left after asking Drake if he would cover the closing remarks for him and pass out the medals to the winners.

Rodrigo left to finish his late registration for the run while Callum placed the baby back into the pram as he saw Nathan rush away. Where is he off to? Was it possible that a relapse had rendered Brendon out of the picture for good? If not, it’s really time to handle that thorn. Callum then dialed both Vittoria’s and Tristan’s phones and received their respective voicemail greetings. It was then that Callum saw Bralen Jones all by himself and approached him, pushing the pram.

Callum (to Bralen): Have you seen Tristano?

Bralen: And good morning to you, too, Callum! (pause) I haven’t seen him since around this time yesterday.

Callum: He’s literally giving your ass a break? You do know what that means? He’s moved onto another easy target.

Bralen: Why are you so bitter? Tristan and I are taking a break so that I may focus more on my training.

Austin (coming up behind them): Training, eh? How many hours of real training do you put in per day?

Bralen: I’m not sure I understand, but it’s anywhere between six to eight hours. Anyway, I had better get ready. See you at the finish line!

Austin (to Callum): I guess you’re not running today (gesturing toward Edward). Despite our differences, I thought it very generous of you to offer to cover the Volunteers’ Appreciation Beach Party.

Callum: Well, thanks for your compliment.

Austin: But let me just be clear with you. If you or your henchman say or do anything harmful to Drake, I’ll personally break out my old pair of brass knuckles? Capiche?

Callum: Austin, let me myself clear now. I don’t respond too well to threats, especially from a third-tier businessman such as you.

The Pride Run race was to start in five minutes, and Austin had to take his position with the rest of the runners. Once the official race began, Austin didn’t think once of Callum but remained focused on getting a personal record but he soon found disappointment as Bralen shot past him to eventually take home first place honors. The news of Bralen’s victory was however overshadowed by a catastrophe that would send the whole day into a tailspin.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, BRENDON ROBERTS’ ROOM

The coldness of the silence between Brendon and Nathan had pervaded the room. It had been a full minute—which now felt like an eternity—since Brendon had told Nathan what he just learned earlier that morning.

Brendon: Well, have you anything to say?

Nathan: I can’t believe that you’re taking his word. This is such bullshit, and you know it. He’s lying through his teeth!

Brendon: Is he? You haven’t been exactly honest with me regarding other things these past few days… no make that weeks.

Nathan: Don’t turn this back onto me. This is about Justin and his concocting some heinous lie. I didn’t know he was capable of such hate.

Brendon: I didn’t know you were capable of this. Is that why didn’t want to tell me he had run away? Because then you would have to explain the sordid truth.

Nathan: Here’s the truth! Justin is a very disturbed, young man who’s doing this to get back at me for trying to maintain some sort of order in our home.

Brendon: You claimed to have argued with him the night he ran away. Was that before or after you—

Nathan: What? You can’t even bring yourself to repeat it. You know deep down he’s lying about this.

Brendon: I honestly don’t know what to believe. You’re not the man I fell in love with. He wouldn’t lie to me about his affair with Callum, and he certainly would never do such a thing to an innocent child.

Nathan: Are you listening to yourself? I’m starting to think the accident did more to your brain than what was thought initially. (moving toward the door)

Brendon: Where are you going?

Nathan: To see Justin!

Brendon (caustically): You’re not going anywhere near my son!

Nathan (flippantly): So he’s officially your son now? Have you told him yet? (pause) You know what I think this is? You want to believe this lie so desperately so that you can play the protective father and make up for not being a part of his life from the start. Well, guess what, Brendon? It’s too late! The sooner you come to that realization, the better off we’ll be.

Brendon: I’m not losing him again, Nate.

Nathan (emphatically throwing his hands up): Lost him? You gave him away! If there’s anyone he should be mad at, it’s you!

Brendon: Are you still mad at me, Nathan, for not telling you any sooner about him? I thought you had accepted him as a part of my life, but now I’m not so sure. (pause) So was this your way of taking your anger out on me… through my son?

Nathan: Oh, my God, he’s got you completely fooled.

Brendon: He was crying, Nathan.

Nathan: Then they were crocodile tears… and that might be insulting to crocodiles.

Brendon: How could you?

Nathan: How could I what? Continue to be a loving partner to someone who clearly doesn’t trust me? I sat by your side when you were at death’s door and prayed for your safe return. And this is how I’m rewarded? You don’t believe a word I’m saying about either this or about Callum. Had I known you were going to betray me in the worst possible way—actually thinking I would do such a thing to your own child—you know what… maybe I’m better off alone!

Brendon: What are you saying, Nathan?

Nathan: I can’t be in a relationship without trust, Brendon. I think we may be at the end of our rope. (moving to the door) I still love you with all my heart, but I can’t be with you. (goes out the door)

Brendon then covered his face with his hands and cried his eyes out.

SANTA MONICA BOULEVARD, PRIDE WEEKEND FESTIVAL, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Edward had been missing for nearly an hour. The police had been immediately notified, and the festival soon took on an entirely different mood—anything but festive. The race had already ended, Bralen taking top honors and Drake placing the suspended medal around his neck—all the time watching his partner Austin seething with rage as he had come In second place. Callum was feeling a mixture of emotions, mainly distress and disbelief at the tragedy that had befallen him.

Callum (to police officers): I don’t care if you have to shut down this bloody festival. I need you to find my son!

Officer: When was the last time you saw him?

Callum (shouting): I’ve already told this to the other officer. Edward was in the pram the entire time. I was standing along the sidelines, watching the runners when I must have turned away for a split second. I’m assuming he was taken during all the hoopla over Bralen Jones’ record victory across the finish line,

Officer: Mr. Sutcliffe, we’re doing everything to get you your son back.

Callum had been given the routine questioning as the news spread throughout those in attendance that there was possible child abduction. Totally panicked, Callum called home to see if Edward had mysteriously materialized there, but received the news he had known in his heart: the child was not at his estate. The local news crews were present to interview Bralen, covering more information on him and his course to Beijing. He would have his media spotlight soon overshadowed with news of the kidnapping.

Callum (aloud to heavens): Oh, God, please let him be okay. (tears spilling over his cheeks) He’s the innocent one in all of this!

Peyton (coming up to him): It was suggested I come talk to you.

Callum: Just leave me alone! I don’t need any advice from a quack shrink—

Peyton (angrily): Fine then! I’m sure the baby would be better off wherever he is than with you!

Callum (reactively slapping him): You don’t—

Peyton: I deserved that. It was wrong of me to say it.

He hadn’t seen Callum cry since their therapy sessions back in London last year. It had been right after Callum had tragically lost his husband. Looking at him all shaken up, Peyton couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He’s a heartless bastard, but that’s no excuse to hit him when he’s down, even though I know he would do it to me. Peyton reached out and grasped one of Callum’s hands.

Peyton: I’m here for you if need me.

Callum: There’s something I need to tell you, Peyton. It’s about Edward. (pause) I never intended to tell you but… but… (choking on emotion)

Peyton: What is it?

Callum: He’s your son. Edward is your child, not Gavin’s.

Peyton (laughing): Callum, now is not the time for joking. I know that humor can be a coping mechanism.

Callum: I’m not lying, Peyton.

Peyton: You must be! In case you were never taught the lesson of the birds and the bees, a baby is made when a man and a woman have sex, and well, the last time I was remotely intimate with a vagina was forty years ago when I came out of one.

Callum (eyes all red, but looking directly at Peyton): I’m ashamed of what I did, but you knew I wasn’t in my right mind when we had sex those two times.

Peyton: Am I missing something here? I’ve seen every part of your body, Callum, and there’s no way you’re hermaphroditic.

Callum: I stole your semen and had a surrogate—

Peyton (shouting as he cuts him off): You what!

Callum: I thought you were Gavin, and I had wanted his child so badly. At the time, I had read in the tabloids how the girlfriend of a footballer had taken semen from the condom and impregnated herself.

Peyton: So you thought you’d do the same with me. What the hell was wrong with you!

Callum: You tell me. You’re the doctor. You claimed that I was showing psychiatric symptoms of transference, that I was mapping my feelings for Gavin onto you.

Oh God, was it true? Peyton thought to himself. At that moment, Rodrigo rushed over, Peyton worried he would get assaulted again like last night.

Rodrigo: Mr. Sutcliffe, is he upsetting you? I saw him shouting at you.

Callum (wiping tears away): No, Rodrigo, everything’s fine. Dr. Ashland and I were coming to terms with each other. Why don’t you go and see if there’s any more news?

Rodrigo (departing): Okay.

Peyton: Who the hell is he? (brief pause) Never mind. I think I need a drink. I’ll be back.

Callum (grasping his hand before he leaves): I needn’t tell you that this remains confidential between us.

Peyton stared at him, jerked his arm away, and rushed off in search of any establishment that sold alcoholic beverages. Callum blew his nose and silently cried to himself, completely torn and angered with himself for endangering the life of Edward. He fell to the ground, placed his head in his hands and let his emotions have full range of his body. It was then that a familiar voice shook him from his grief.

The sounds of Glen Hansard’s “Falling Slowly” begin playing in the background of the scene.

Nathan: Callum, are you okay?

Callum (looking up into Nathan’s eyes): I-I’m a complete mess. (rising from the ground, immediately hugging him) Oh, Nathan, I don’t know what to do.

Nathan (the palm of his right hand cupping the back of Callum’s head): I’m here for you.

Callum (pulling away): Did something happen? You rushed away nearly two hours ago. Drake and Austin had to handle the awards and closing ceremony.

Nathan: Something did happen but I don’t want to talk about it. I came here to clear my head and be of assistance to the club, but I didn’t expect to run into this. The cops are everywhere. I just saw Jeremy Dodd, and he told me what had happened. I-I’m so sorry.

Callum: I’m so scared, Nathan.

Nathan: I’ll help you in any way I can.

The West Hollywood police came over to Callum, informing him that they were presently engaged in searching every restaurant, club, and shop along the Santa Monica Boulevard corridor of the festival. Godfrey had couriered several recent photos of Edward. For a split second, Callum felt that with these measures taken, Edward would be back in his custody within no time. Four hours passed with no breakthrough development. Nathan remained by his side the entire time. Everyone came by offering their support. It was around late afternoon that the police had finished their thorough search of the festival boulevard. It was the lead police officer who came to Callum with this news along with the one question that had eluded Callum’s mind.

Officer: Mr. Sutcliffe, have you received any phone calls asking for ransom?

Callum (astounded): What? You think—

Officer (cutting him off): Mr. Sutcliffe, you’re a very wealthy man to my understanding. Whoever took your son may call you soon, asking for money in exchange for his return.

Callum: I’ll pay anything.

Officer: If that does happen…

Callum listened to the details, all the while feeling Nathan’s firm hand upon his shoulder. It was his presence that had kept Callum to some extent sane throughout the whole ordeal. But ransom? Callum would fear answering his phone. He could barely walk. Nathan offered to take him home.

Three phone calls were placed over the next hour. The receipt of each would have great consequences.

AUSTIN MONROE AND DRAKE MICHENER’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Austin and Drake arrived home, the latter talking incessantly about how the day had started out well. Despite the tragedy that befell Pride Weekend, Drake was agog with wonder over Bralen’s performance.

Drake: You know Bralen told me afterwards that he far exceeded his own expectations today. I think he’s going to bring home gold for the U.S.

Austin (grunting): Yeah, I bet.

Drake (coming to him, wrapping his arms around Austin’s neck): What’s wrong? Is your mind still on Callum’s son? That’s really awful what happened. (kissing him) Or could it be that you’re a sore loser? I saw Bralen overtake you right at the end.

Austin (pulling away from Drake): I’m going to make us something to eat.

Instead of immediately going into the kitchen, he went to his study to secretly place a call.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, BRENDON ROBERTS’ ROOM

Brendon sat in the wheelchair in his hospital room. He had not heard from Nathan since their explosive encounter earlier that day. Is it really over between us? I know there’s only one person to blame for all this, and he’s going to pay dearly for it. Brendon picked up the photos that told of Nathan’s infidelity. He stared maliciously at Callum, his eyes hoping to burn a hole into him. He then wheeled over to the door and looked out it surreptitiously for any nurses who may come in. He withdrew his cell phone and placed a call.

SANTA MONICA BOULEVARD, PRIDE WEEKEND FESTIVAL, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Rodrigo Caldozar had watched as Nathan escorted Callum into his car, chivalrously opening the door for him and making certain he was safely inside the vehicle. Why is Callum so attracted to this guy? He’s been with him all day long, and he never seemed to have time for me… always sending me off on some foolish, dumb errand. I’m more than willing to be there for him. I’m sure Callum will need me more of my help as this plays out and I’ll make sure that nothing else goes wrong.

Rodrigo then withdrew his cell phone to place a call.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, MUCH LATER THAT NIGHT

Callum was a total wreck. Spending several hours in Nathan’s company ironically did little to ease his nerves. They had gone to the West Hollywood Police Station, held there for a considerable period of time. The ride from there to Hollycove Estates was a silent one, Callum wanting to reach over and feel Nathan’s hand along with his reassuring grip. His late husband Gavin had the ability to hold Callum’s hand while navigating the steering wheel with just the use of his right hand and his knee.

Nightfall had cast a dark blanket over the Hollywood Hills. Pulling into Callum’s driveway, Nathan offered to see him to the door, but Callum respectfully declined. Once inside, Godfrey approached him, offering consolatory words.

Callum: Make me the hardest drink you can!

Godfrey: Yes, Your Lordship.

Callum: I’ll be in the study. Please set it on my desk.

A few more hours elapsed as he drank himself into oblivion. He then stumbled his way upstairs to his private bedroom, withdrawing the key to the lock. He went into it and fell onto the cushioning of the four poster bed with the silken canopy. Oh, what a mess I’ve made of everything! I need you, Gavin. I don’t know what to do! He rose from the bed and journeyed across the floor to the secret room on the far left of the bedroom. He withdrew the key for that particular room and inserted it into the lock, and upon entering went over to the vanity and picked up the framed photo of his late husband Gavin, kissing it. His heart nearly stopped beating when he saw that there was a message left on his private phone line. Was this the fated ransom call?

He listened to the message, a pall of paralytic shock overtaking him. While the content of the message itself was unsettling, it was more so the voice that both chilled and haunted Callum’s heart, for he had not heard it in ages.

It was a voice from his past.

TO BE CONTINUED…