Part 6


The ringing of the telephone broke the silence in the bedroom, pulling JC roughly awake. His eyes shot open, peering at the phone and willing it to stop. The weight of Justin draped over him was too precious to disturb, so he ignored the phone, closing his eyes and letting the machine pick up.

JC’s own voice soon echoed in the room. “There will be a beep. You know what to do.”

BEEP

“Mr. Chasez, this is Detective Kirby. I’m sorry to bother you so early, but we’ve seemed to have hit a snag in our investigation of the alleged assailant of you and Mr. Timberlake. Please call me at the squad room as soon as possible.”

BEEP

JC’s heart started beating faster. A snag? What could that mean? He’d identified the woman who’d kidnapped him…she’d been standing right there! He glanced down at Justin’s head on his chest, closing his eyes and tightening his arms around the younger man as thoughts raced through his mind. Was Justin still in danger?

JC started as the phone rang again, and again, he let the machine pick up.

“Mr. Chasez, Detective Kirby again. I neglected to add on my previous message that we’ve had to let Miss Turner out of custody. Please call soon.”

At that message, JC’s eyes shot open, colliding with Justin’s own startled eyes. “They let her go?” Justin asked, scrambling to sit up in the bed. “You id’ed her! Told the police exactly who it was! How could they let her go?”

JC reached for the phone, dialing the detective’s number. “I’m sure it’s a mistake, Justin. Relax.”

“How can I relax when there’s some maniac out there who locked you up?”

“She hurt you more than she hurt me,” JC told him. “Your hands, the car…Yes, hello! Detective Kirby, this is JC Chasez. What’s going on?” JC listened for a bit, nodding his head. “Yes, I see.”

“You see what?” Justin asked impatiently.

“I do understand your position, but…”

“But what?” Justin demanded.

JC sighed. “Detective, I’m going to put you on speaker phone before Justin has a stroke.” JC pushed a button on the phone before replacing the handset in the cradle. Please repeat what you just told me.”

“As I told Mr. Chasez, we had to release Miss Turner. There was no physical evidence in the house where you were held, Mr. Chasez, to link Miss Turner to the kidnapping.”

“None?” Justin asked.

“She was very careful,” Kirby said. “No finger prints, no hairs, nothing. Same with Mr. Ayala’s car. We’re in the process of executing warrants to search Miss Turner’s house and computer, but frankly, right now it’s Mr. Chasez’s word against hers. Unless we come up with some kind of new evidence, I don’t see this case progressing.”

The lovers exchanged confused glances. “But, what was she doing there if she wasn’t involved?” Justin asked, his voice rising. JC laid a calming hand on Justin’s arm.

“Her explanation is that she saw the police activity, and simply stopped to see what was going on. Entirely plausible, since she lives in the neighborhood.”

“So, what do we do now?” JC asked.

“Mr. Chasez, Detective Matthews and I were wondering if you’d be willing to help us on this. Can you come to the squad room later today?”

“He’s not going to be bait!” Justin exclaimed.

“Justin!” JC scolded. “I doubt that’s what the detectives have in mind.”

Silence came from the phone speaker. “Actually…that’s kind of what we were planning,” Kirby told them.

***

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why not, if it’ll help?”

“Because that woman is crazy! She kept you locked in a basement!”

“And she almost ran you down!”

“So why go near her?”

“What do you expect her to do in the middle of a police station? Carry me away?”

“Maybe! She has a gun, you said so yourself.”

“I’m tired of hiding.”

“Not seeing her isn’t hiding, it’s prudent.”

JC blinked. “Prudent? When did you start using that word?”

“Fuck you,” Justin replied, pulling open the car door and jumping out of the car. “You’re acting like an idiot. This woman is dangerous.”

JC slammed his own door and considered Justin across the top of the car. “And she’ll remain so until the police can get her off the streets. I want her locked up, away from you, from us.”

The lovers glared at each other, until Justin sighed, resting his arms on the roof of the car and dropping his head onto them. Seeing Justin’s dejected posture made all of JC’s anger evaporate, and he came around the car, placing a hand on Justin’s back. “Let’s see what they want me to do, Just. If it’s too dangerous, well, we’ll talk about it, okay?”

Justin was silent a moment. “I can’t lose you,” he said, his words muffled against his arms. He looked at JC, his eyes filled with fear. “I just can’t.”

JC lifted a hand, smoothing it along Justin’s cheek. “You’re not going to lose me, baby,” he told Justin. “I won’t do anything rash, or too risky, and nothing unless we both agree. Okay?”

A thin smile crossed the boy’s lips. “Okay,” Justin agreed.

JC grabbed Justin’s hand, and together they walked into the police station.

***

“Why is she agreeing to this?” JC asked.

They were outside an interrogation room, one with a two-way mirror. Inside the room sat Betty Turner, the woman JC knew, he KNEW, was the person who’d kidnapped him. Sitting with her was a lawyer. JC watched her sitting in the room, noticing how excited she seemed, how anxious.

“You see it, don’t you?” The police psychologist asked the question. It was she who suggested the face to face between JC and Betty Turner. The psychologist explained that someone with her obsessive disorder would be overwhelmed when faced with the object of her obsession, and might say something that could be used to get a search warrant. So they asked Betty Turner if she’d come down and discuss this matter with JC, and of course she could bring a lawyer.

Betty Turner, is seemed to JC as she squirmed in her chair, was almost obscenely eager to comply with the police’s request.

JC nodded. “She’s quite excited to be here.”

“The thought of seeing you again is doing that to her,” the doctor said. “Just keep the conversation casual, but on the subject, and we’ll see what happens.”

JC looked at the others standing at the two-way mirror. Besides Justin and the two detectives, there was a representative from the district attorneys office as well as the boys’ own security chief. “I’m ready,” he said. He paused as he passed Justin, squeezing his lover’s hand quickly before entering the interrogation room.

Betty Turner jumped excitedly in her chair at JC’s entrance. Her lawyer spoke as JC and Kirby sat down. “I am again objecting to this, and reiterate that Miss Turner is submitting to this at her own insistence. But if it goes too far, I will call it off.”

“Understood,” Kirby said. “And again, thank you, Miss Turner, for agreeing to come down here and helping us clear this up.” Kirby shifted some papers in his folder, delaying the actual questioning. JC watched as Betty Turner got more and more agitated at the delay. JC realized it was part of the tactic Kirby and the psychologist had decided on, but the more anxious Betty Turner got, the more anxious JC got.

And God knows how Justin was fairing.

***

“What is he waiting for?” Justin demanded, pacing in front of the mirror. “He’s just sitting there, and JC’s in there with her, and…what’s he waiting for?”

“Relax, Mr. Timberlake,” the psychologist said. “Detective Kirby is playing it perfectly. Look how agitated she’s getting.”

Justin peered into the room. The woman was practically squirming in her chair, waiting for something to happen. “And this is good?” Justin asked.

The doctor nodded. “Just watch.”

***

“Now, Miss Turner,” Detective Kirby finally said. “How is it that you were at the house Mr. Chasez had been held in?”

“I saw the police and crowd, and stopped to see what was going on,” Betty said before turning to JC. “I’m a big fan, JC.”

“Yes, I know,” JC replied. “You told me so in the basement of that house.”

Betty’s pale eyes blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I live in the neighborhood, and just happened by.”

“Yes, that is what you’ve said before,” Kirby said. “What about the afternoon of the 18th?”

Again the pale eyes blinked. “What about it?”

“Weren’t you on Sunset, in your car, trying to run down Justin Timberlake until Mr. Chasez stepped into the path?”

“This is ridiculous!” Turner’s lawyer exclaimed. “My client is innocent of these baseless accusations.”

“No, she’s not,” JC said. “It was her in the car, I saw her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Betty replied. “I never drive on Sunset.”

“But you do own a Mazda Protégé, correct?” Kirby asked.

Betty laughed, a kind of hysterical cackle. “So do thousands of people!” She leaned in toward JC. “When does the album come out? Are you going to tour?”

“If you’re not the person who is responsible for these crimes, why is Mr. Chasez so certain that you are? That you were the one who knocked Trace Ayala out and stole his car? That you were the one who held a gun on Mr. Chasez and forced him to drive to that house? That you were the one who locked Mr. Chasez to a pipe with a handcuff, then gave him food to eat and calmly discussed how you were going to get rid of Justin as his competition?”

Two spots of color stained the woman’s pale cheeks. “I have no idea why JC would think that.” She turned to JC. “How many songs are going to be on the album?”

“Why did you hurt Justin?” JC asked.

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” JC leaned closer. “Justin did nothing to warrant being hurt, yet you took pleasure in his pain. That’s sick.”

At that, Betty Turner didn’t say anything, only sat back in her chair, smiling.

***

“This isn’t going to work,” Justin said. “She’s convinced she did no wrong.”

“I’ve never seen someone with obsessive disorder so self-contained,” the psychologist admitted. “It’s as if her obsession with JC isn’t as important as it was, but mania like that doesn’t disappear over night.”

Justin turned to her the truth dawned. “Maybe because she isn’t really obsessed with JC,” he suggested.

***

The four people at the table started as the door of the interrogation room opened with a bang. Justin entered the room, walking directly over to JC. “Come on, we’re going home.”

“Justin!” JC protested. “What are you doing?”

“I’m tired, and I want to go home,” he told JC. “If you want to hang around more with your fan, get her phone number. But it’s become a bit of a bore, watching her fawn all over you.”

“Justin!”

“Oh, come on!” Justin said, his voice a whine but his eyes beseeching JC to understand what he was doing. “It’s sickening, JC. I can’t help that you won’t be as successful as me, but this isn’t the way to get fans.”

JC stared at Justin, his face a mask of pretend shock. “How could you? You know how hard I’ve worked, how much I’ve struggled, and now, all you can do is mock.”

“Get over it,” Justin said, thanking God that JC was quick on the up-take and was playing along. He stomped towards JC. “I said, let’s go!” Justin grabbed JC’s arm, pulling him from the table. “I want to go home NOW!”

“And Justin-Fucking-Timberlake always gets his way, doesn’t’ he?”

The words, spoken softly, put a chill into the room. Four pairs of eyes turned toward the woman, each one widening in surprise at the sight of her twisted, angry face. “Betty, I suggest you not say…”

“You’re such a fucking diva, you know that? Such a mama’s boy who always has to have his own way.” The words were spat from Betty’s pale lips, the sound of them itching the nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Why can’t you just let JC have some time to shine?”

“Betty…”

“I really should have hit you with that car, it would have solved all my problems, all of JC’s problems. But no, you had to go and survive that, and the acid.” Flecks of spittle were forming around Betty’s mouth as she spoke. “Just go away, Timberlake. No one wants you anymore.”

An instant later, she was lunging at Justin, her hands forming claws aimed at Justin’s face. JC pulled Justin away, placing his body between his lover’s and Betty Turner. Detective Kirby grabbed the outstretched hands, pulling her to lie on the table. Justin and JC backed away as Kirby read Betty her rights.

***

JC arched his back as Justin’s hands slid down his body. His legs shifted restlessly as Justin’s tongue followed his hands, lighting a fiery path along JC’s slick skin. “Oh…yes…” JC sighed, his hands stroking Justin’s fuzzy head. “Oh, god, yes.”

“You like?” Justin asked.

“Hmm, yes,” JC twisted as the vibrations from Justin’s voice on his skin made him shiver. “I more than like,” JC continued, flexing his knees as Justin moved lower. “I love.”

Justin paused, lifting his head. His lover was relaxed, splayed out in front of Justin like a feast, his lithe and naked body glowing with sweat and flushed with pink from Justin’s kisses. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature alive.

And he was Justin’s.

JC realized Justin had stopped and opened his eyes, looking down his own body and meeting Justin’s intent gaze. “What?”

Justin shimmied up JC’s body. “I’m just happy it’s over,” Justin said, brushing a soft kiss over the older man’s mouth.

JC stroked a hand across Justin’s cheek, smiling softly. “Me, too,” he agreed.

“I was so worried for you.” Both men laughed as they said the words at the same time.

“It was scary, Jayce,” Justin said, laying his head down as JC’s arms came around him. “That last, when she went crazy and stuff…totally scary.”

“But you protected me,” JC squeezed Justin tighter. “My hero,” he murmured.

Justin lifted his head. “You’re mine,” he said simply, and then blushed as he realized what he’d said. “Oh, god, that was sappy.”

JC’s chest rumbled with laughter. “No, uh…not at all…” he sputtered.

“No sense of romance,” Justin complained, scooting back down JC’s body.

JC sighed as Justin’s mouth closed round his raging erection.

Justin was his.

And he was safe.

The End



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