JC slipped into his apartment and slid his jacket off, grabbing the cigarettes out of the pocket before tossing it across the back of the chair in the corner. Then, lighting a cigarette and taking his usual seat by the window, letting his eyes scan over the street below him, he let his mind wander once again to Justin. To Justin's secret. Because JC was convinced there was something he was hiding. And he intended to find out what it was.
Sitting there, it occurred to him that aside from the three nights a week when JC saw him at dinner, when they were working a job together, or the occasional night out when they happened to be in the same place, JC had no idea what Justin did. His time alone was a mystery to JC. And JC wondered just who else he was hiding his personal life from.
If anyone knew anything about Justin's private life, it was probably Chris. And if JC was intent on finding out exactly what Justin was hiding, which he was, he was going to have to become Chris Kirkpatrick's new best friend.
He wasn't sure where this sudden urge, this need, to find out what Justin was up to, what he was hiding, came from. It didn't make sense. He didn't like Justin, despised him almost, so why was it so important that he find out what Justin did in his personal time? It was a question he couldn't answer. All he knew was that he needed to know.
Sighing, he flicked his cigarette out the window, watching it hit the ground, still glowing brightly in the dark night. His mind wandered over possibilities. Could Justin really have a girl? Someone forbidden? Maybe one of Vanvino's girls perhaps? Because JC knew there was no way a young man would let the offer Justin had received tonight go unless there was a reason. And suddenly, his head snapped up, glancing toward the small table next to his bed, to the photograph sitting there, to the young man smiling back at him in two dimensional form. Was it possible?
JC shook his head, clearing it. No, there was no way it was possible. No way Justin hadn't been interested in that woman because he wasn't interested in any woman. Because he was interested in men instead. But another part of himself argued back. Why wasn't it possible? Was it so out of the question?
JC glanced at the photograph again before slowly making his way toward it. It was clasped tightly in his hands as he lay back on the bed, looking at the smiling face before him. A sigh escaped his lips.
Lance had been one of a kind. And JC had been so in love with him.
He'd shown up into JC's life the same time Joey did. Joey and Lance had been friends for years, both thrust into the same orphanage as children and the bond between them had been incredible. JC had been attracted to Lance immediately. That hadn't come as a shock to JC, but he'd kept his distance, knowing how the world worked, knowing that wasn't accepted. He'd put up a wall around him, blocking both Joey and Lance out. But secretly, he'd watched them. He'd seen the amazing confidence Lance had, the way he carried himself. And JC had known that Lance was what he'd wanted in the person he fell in love with. And that was exactly why he had to stay away, keep his distance.
But then Lance had kissed him. And as his lips slid over JC's, his hands sliding through JC's hair, across his neck, JC's entire façade had crumbled. And there'd been no turning back. He'd opened up and allowed himself to fall in love. It had been the most incredible experience of his life. He'd loved with abandon, giving all of himself and then some to Lance. Joey had known, and supported both of them, but beyond that they kept it to themselves.
And then, he was gone. It was a job that had gone horribly wrong. It was suppose to be an easy kill, one JC could take care of on his own. Lance had begged JC not to go, holding him close in bed that morning, pleading with him, telling him he had a bad feeling about this. JC had kissed him, untangled himself, and promised that he'd come home. But Lance had still not been appeased and after JC left he'd found Joey, insisting Joey help JC. They'd both shown up, Lance and Joey. The distraction had made JC lose his concentration and in that moment, the man he was suppose to be killing had thrown a punch. JC had retaliated and Joey had jumped in immediately. And then somehow, in a twist of kicks and punches, fists and legs, a gun had gone off, startling all of them.
When JC realized he was still alive, thrown on his back on the ground, but alive and in no pain, he'd sat up quickly. Joey had the man pinned and JC whipped around quickly, looking for Lance. The sight that had met his eyes had caused his knees to go week, caused him to fall to the ground, gagging desperately. Lance lay in a pool of his own blood, mouth open, eyes wide in shock. Dead.
JC had kept his promise to Lance. He had gone home that day. But he'd gone home with a broken heart. The man he loved had been killed because of him. Lance had nothing to do with the Timberlake's beyond association yet he'd been the one to lose his life. The guilt JC felt had been immense, and for a long time he'd been lost inside himself, going about his life with a dull pain deep inside. Time had healed his wounds and he'd found the strength to move on, to quit blaming himself. But he'd promised himself never to get too close to anyone again. Aside from Randy and Lynn, everyone he'd ever loved had been killed. It was easier to stay detached than to risk losing someone else.
As JC held the photograph, fingers tracing the lines of Lance's face, JC's mind wandered to Justin again and he wondered if maybe Justin was hiding the same secret he was. It was a far stretch, but not out of the realm of possibility. And somehow, JC found it easier to imagine Justin turning the woman down because he was interested in guys than he did to imagine Justin turning her down because he had a girl already, a girl that was off limits. With everything he knew about Justin, knowing how much he hoped to please Randy, JC just couldn't see him hooking up with anyone against Randy or the Timberlake gang.
As he put the picture back in place and moved to the window once again, he contemplated just how he was going to find out the truth. And if the truth about Justin would shock him all that much.
*****
Justin was up early. He'd spent most of the night walking around before finally going home and falling into bed. But his sleep had been far from peaceful and he was up only hours after laying down. After tossing and turning for a while, he realized it was useless and climbed out of bed, heading down to his dad's restaurant for a morning cup of coffee.
He hadn't been sitting there long when the door opened once again, drawing Justin's attention, and he saw Chris stroll lazily into the restaurant. A grin lit up his face when he saw Justin and was seated across from him before Justin could even complete the sigh that escaped from his throat. He knew Chris had seen him leave the club with that girl the night before and wasn't exactly awake enough to deal with the questions he knew were coming. Chris just grinned at him, eyes flickering across Justin's face, until a cup of coffee was placed in front of him.
"You look tired. Have a good night?" Justin just shrugged, not giving Chris the satisfaction. It was better to let him think what he wanted than to tell him nothing had happened. "She was quite the doll. You poor sap, you never stood a chance." Justin picked up his coffee cup, bringing it to his lips as a way to hide his expression from Chris.
"Don't you have something better to do today than razz me?" Chris just grinned, leaning back in his seat.
"Come on, give me the low down." Justin just shook his head, setting his cup back down on the table in front of him.
"Let it go, Kirkpatrick." He stood, dropping some change on the table. "It's none of your business." Justin smiled quickly in Chris' direction, letting their eyes meet. He saw amusement in Chris's eyes and knew he hadn't taken Justin's brush off to heart.
"Fine, keep the details to yourself, fella. I'll meet up with you later." Justin nodded quickly before turning away from Chris and heading out of the restaurant into the bright morning sunlight. Pulling his hat low over his eyes, blocking the sun, he made his way through the morning crowd, dodging people as he went.
Suddenly, a young boy, no older than eight, ran past him, shoulder accidentally knocking into Justin. Justin heard a commotion behind him and turned just as three more boys, all slightly older than the first one, ran past, chasing the younger boy down an alley. Curious, Justin followed, standing at the end of the alley, seeing the three older boys corner the younger one against a brick wall. Justin frowned and started forward just as one of the boys threw a punch, hitting the youngest boy in the stomach.
"Hey!" Justin yelled out, moving quickly into the alley. The three boys turned, eyes going wide at the sight of Justin.
"Scram!" One of them yelled and the three of them ran past him, out of the alley. Justin watched them go for a minute before moving to the young boy, bent over and holding his stomach, breathing harshly, eyes clenched shut. As Justin's footsteps sounded in the alley, echoing off the walls, he saw the boy tense even more.
"Please don't hurt me." He was terrified and Justin moved to him cautiously, kneeling down in front of him.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly. "I promise." The boy looked up at Justin with huge, watery eyes. "Are you ok?" The boy nodded slightly, leaning back against the brick wall, eyes still weary on Justin. "My name's Justin."
"Are they gone?"
"Yes," Justin nodded. He saw the boy look past him for a moment, searching the alleyway with his own eyes before focusing on Justin again.
"I'm Billy."
"Did you know those boys, Billy?" He nodded, running a hand across his face, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"They go to my school. They don't like me. I was just trying to get to my dad's shop. I only had two more blocks to go when they started chasing me."
"Want me to walk you there?" Justin asked gently. Billy looked up at him, eyes wide once again.
"Would you?" Justin nodded and stood, looking back at Billy as he made his way out of the alley. He saw the three boys standing across the street, waiting for Billy and he felt Billy slide behind him, hiding behind Justin's tall frame when he noticed them as well. Justin saw their faces fall when they saw that Justin was still there before they turned in the opposite direction, taking off, pushing each other playfully.
"Lead the way," Justin said, looking down at Billy. He smiled up at Justin before walking confidently along the sidewalk. And as his confidence grew, he started to talk, going on and on about anything and everything his eight year old mind could grasp. He reminded Justin a lot of himself at that age and he smiled as Billy talked.
They reached Billy's father's shop quickly and Justin waited until Billy was inside, turning to wave at Justin one final time, a huge toothy grin on his face, before turning into the building. Justin turned in the opposite direction, heading back toward his own house, when he saw JC standing across the street, eyes intent on Justin. Justin saw the curiosity in them, saw the raised eyebrows, the tilted head. He froze, eyes connected with JC's. He wasn't sure how long they stood there before JC finally stepped off the sidewalk, making his way toward Justin. And Justin could do nothing. His legs wouldn't move. He was stuck, eyes still intent on JC as JC moved closer and closer to him.
"Who was that?" JC asked as he stepped up onto the sidewalk next to Justin. He tilted his hat back on his head slightly before shoving his hands in his pocket.
"His name was Billy," Justin said, shrugging. "Some kids were beating him up. I chased them off."
"Oh." And then, suddenly, neither of them knew what to say, what to do, where to look. Justin glanced down to the sidewalk, kicking a rock in front of him, looked up to the buildings around him, looked at the cars moving along the street. He looked everywhere but at JC. There had been a certain dynamic to how they dealt with each other for years. Angry insults had been the only words exchanged between them. And within the past month, that had all changed.
Justin didn't know how to deal with this new dynamic. A part of him longed for things to go back to the way they use to be. It was easier that way. He knew how to deal with JC that way. But another, much smaller, part of him wondered if maybe this was something that could help him.
His mind flashed back to their confrontation at Church, right after Vinny had been killed. JC told him the emotions Justin had felt that morning had been what he needed to do the job his father wanted him to do. At the time, he'd still been too confused by it all, scared of the feelings, the anger, coursing through him.
But now, a month later, he still remembered what it felt like but had control over it. And maybe this new dynamic between them, this thing both of them knew was there but neither of them could explain, this thing neither of them would even acknowledge out loud, could somehow aid him in becoming the man his father wanted him to be. The killer his father wanted him to be, he reminded himself. But regardless of what he called it, it was still what his father wanted. And maybe if he could take this new dynamic with JC and turn it in a positive direction, he could make it to that point.
But then Justin remembered just who it was he was thinking about. This was JC. There was no way JC would help him. JC seemed to be stuck in a place of not knowing how to deal with Justin anymore as much as Justin was. Justin knew he'd scared JC that morning, holding the knife up this his throat, hissing in his ear. And things were awkward between them. But that didn't mean there was any reason for JC to help him. Things between them had changed, but at the same time, everything reminded the same.
And suddenly, Justin needed to get out of there. He couldn't be around JC anymore. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his eyes to JC's face.
"I need to go. I'll catch you later." He turned, taking off down the street before JC could even get a response out. And he didn't dare turn back around to see if JC was watching him walk away or not.
*****
Chris was the most predictable man JC knew. And he counted on that now to find him. When he entered the small club, he wasn't disappointed. Chris was sitting at a table near the back, a pretty woman leaning close to him, pressed up against his side in the dark booth. They both had drinks in their hands as they watched the woman singing on stage.
Walking up to the table, JC stepped into their line of vision, blocking the singer on the small stage. Chris looked up, angry for a moment, until he saw it was JC standing there. A grin slowly made its way across his face and he pulled his arm back from the woman next to him.
"I'm afraid you're gonna have to excuse us, Molly. Important business to discuss with this fella here." JC saw Molly's eyes scan over him appraisingly, saw her smile at the sight that met her eyes. And as she stood from the table and made her way past him, he felt her arm rub against his side, felt her hand slid discreetly down his chest, fingers dipping into his hip bones for a moment as her electric eyes met his own. But she left without saying anything and JC breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he sat down across from Chris.
His plan, he'd decided, would be to tell Chris about what Randy wanted. Give him just enough details to satisfy him, and then somehow, without raising any sort of suspicion, bring up Justin, see what he could get out of Chris. Unfortunately, before he could put his plan into effect, before he could even get one sentence out, he felt a presence behind him. And when he turned, looking up, Justin was standing there. The drink he had was held tightly in his hand, fingers gripping the glass forcefully. And JC could tell it was taking all the composure he had in him to keep his emotions in check.
"What are you doing here?"
"Seems I could ask you the same thing. I wasn't aware this was your private club." JC saw Justin pause, the comment about to slip off his tongue held back. He closed his mouth quickly, running a hand across his face before he took a seat next to Chris, eyes locking with JC's own across the expanse of the table.
"So what are you doing here?" Justin asked again. But this time his voice held a lot less animosity. He was merely curious. And once again, JC was reminded of the new dynamic between them. In the past week, they'd run into each other randomly more times than in the past year combined. And there was always that edge there, the feelings of anger and animosity. But neither of them acted on it, holding it in instead, being almost civil in what they said to each other. This was the closest they'd come to a real conversation since they were kids.
"I wanted a drink," JC said, pulling his eyes away from Justin's to glance up at the stage instead. "I saw Chris and figured I'd join him. I didn't know you were here." The unspoken 'or I never would have come over to this table' was left hovering between them, both of them aware of it regardless. Justin nodded, bringing his glass to his lips and downing the cool whiskey in one gulp.
"So, are you going to tell me anything?" Chris asked, oblivious to the thickness hovering over the table. JC's eyes shot to his own for a moment, full of warnings to keep his mouth shut.
"Nothing to tell," JC said, shaking his head slightly.
"Bull," Chris said, eyes intent on JC's face. "Now spill."
"I said there's nothing to tell, Kirkpatrick." And Chris was a smart man, smart enough to understand the look on JC's face. Smart enough to understand to shut his mouth. Justin looked between the two of them for a moment before Chris stood and looked down at the two of them.
"What's your poison, Chasez?" JC just shook his head, indicating to bring him whatever kind of drink Chris was having and as Chris ambled away from the table, JC felt Justin's eyes on him once again.
"You got some business with Kirkpatrick?"
"Nothing important," JC said, meeting Justin's eyes and shrugging. Randy didn't want Justin involved and the less he knew the better. JC was sure if he found out about it, he'd be mad and hurt that he wasn't included. It was better if he knew nothing about what was about to go down.
As their eyes held across the table, everything shifted once again. JC was suddenly uncomfortable. The feeling spread through is chest and stomach, wrapping around inside him. It hit JC that this was a feeling he wasn't use to. He didn't allow himself to become uncomfortable in any type of situation, hadn't in years. He didn't let that ever get in his way. But Justin's eyes were boring into him, searching his face for some sign, some reason as to why he was really here. And JC didn't like it at all. And with the anger they'd used to deal with each other for years gone, with the strange emotions swirling inside him, he knew he didn't have the power to bury the lie he'd just told. So instead, he slid out of the booth, grabbing his hat from the seat.
"Tell your pops I'll be by to see him tomorrow." And as quickly as he could without causing any more suspicion, JC made his way through the crowded club to the exit. Justin's eyes were on him the entire way. He could sense them, feel them in the way his neck tingled, in the way the hair on his arms stood on end. As he slipped out into the dark night and collapsed against the side of the building for a moment, he realized he'd never been so glad to get away from Justin before.
He was losing his cool. The calm, unemotional, detached exterior he prided himself on seemed to be slipping away every time he was around Justin lately. And he didn't like it. He despised that Justin could get to him, make him feel emotion. And worse, that he could make him show that emotion. Slamming a closed fist against the building behind him, he let out a frustrated yell before pushing off the building and moving down the dark street. He just needed to get home, get himself under control again. And he needed to stop randomly running into Justin Timberlake.
*****
Justin opened the front door and stepped inside his house and immediately heard JC's voice flowing in from the kitchen. Lynn's laugh followed JC's words and Justin sighed as he hung his coat on the rack next to the door. It had been almost a week since he'd seen JC and he really wasn't looking forward to it tonight. But JC was already here, it was almost time for dinner, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Stepping into the doorway, he took in the scene before him. JC was leaning against the counter, eyes intent on Lynn as he told her a story. She was stirring something on the stove and Justin could see the smile on her lips, the shimmer in her eyes as she listened intently to JC. A pang of jealousy shot through him for a moment but he shook his head, clearing it away quickly. He knew, without a doubt, that his parents loved him. But he'd never been able to help the jealous feelings that hit him when he saw JC interacting with them on a personal level.
JC turned and his words faded as he caught Justin's eye, the smile falling from his lips. Lynn, aware that something had captured JC's attention, turned as well to see Justin standing in the doorway.
"Justin, honey. Where have you been?" Justin shrugged slightly and moved into the kitchen, placing a soft kiss on his mother's cheek, eyes finding JC's again after a moment. "Well dinner is almost ready, go get cleaned up." She smiled softly at Justin before turning to include JC as well. "Both of you." As she went back to stirring the contents on the stove, she didn't even seem to be aware that the happy mood that had filled the kitchen moments before was now replaced by a thick tension. Finally, JC turned away and moved out of the kitchen, heading for the bathroom upstairs. Justin sighed and followed more slowly, making his way to the top of the steps just as JC emerged. Their eyes locked again and their shoulders brushed against each other as JC moved past Justin and back down the stairs, but neither of them said anything.
By time Justin finished washing up and made it to the table, Randy and JC were already seated, Lynn placing the last of the food out before them. He took his seat across from JC and bowed his head as his father said a quiet prayer in thanks. When Justin lifted his head back up, he did his best to try and avoid JC's eyes for the rest of dinner, even when they both reach for the bread at the same moment, their hands bumping against each other. He felt JC's fingers slide over his before JC pulled back quickly as if burned. And he could feel JC looking at him, but he still kept his eyes fixed on his plate.
"Anything else I need for tomorrow night?" JC asked halfway through dinner. Justin lifted his head slightly and saw JC's eyes on Randy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father shake his head lightly, trying to be as subtle as possible before turning his eyes quickly to Justin for a moment and then back to JC.
"This isn't dinner conversation. We'll discuss it later." Randy went back to his plate, the conversation over before it really started. But Justin knew, without a doubt, that it was mainly because he was sitting at the table. Normally JC's comment wouldn't have phased him. He knew JC worked closely with Randy all the time. But he'd seen the look his father sent in his direction for JC's benefit. And he knew what it meant. They were up to something, and Justin wasn't involved. Wasn't allowed to be involved. Randy didn't want him to have any part of what was going on, apparently didn't even want him to know about it. Sadness washed over him as he swallowed the food in his mouth, appetite gone completely. He knew this day would come. He knew that someday Randy would have enough, would finally give up on Justin ever being able to fulfill the job that needed to be done. And it hurt, more than he ever though it would. He didn't want this life, hadn't asked for it and would be more than happy to have never been born into it. But he was, and it was suppose to be a privilege. And knowing he couldn't make his father proud was painful. Knowing JC was more what Randy wanted in a son than he was, was hard as hell to cope with. And knowing Randy had finally given up on him wasn't something he was prepared to deal with.
Glancing up, he caught JC's eyes on him. The look on his face made him draw back in shock. He'd expected a condescending smirk, an evil twinkle in JC's eyes. He'd expected the silent gloating and the satisfied grin. He wasn't prepared for the pity. The apology was easy to read in JC's eyes, but the reality of it was hard to swallow. He didn't want pity, not from JC. And as their eyes stayed connected, the hurt faded away from deep inside Justin, anger boiling up and replacing it. There was no way Justin was going to allow JC to feel sorry for him. No fucking way. JC must have seen the sadness and hurt fade away to anger in his eyes because his own suddenly went wide and he looked down at his plate, away from Justin. Justin pushed his own plate away from him and slid his chair back, standing quickly and tossing his napkin angrily down onto the table. Lynn looked up, shocked.
"May I be excused?" But he didn't wait for an answer, instead moving to the door, grabbing his hat and coat as he passed and slamming it behind him. And as he stormed down the street into the night, he thought about the look on JC's face and got angrier with each step.
He walks around the city aimlessly for awhile, body tense, hands shoved deeply into his pockets, hoping the anger would wear away. But it didn't and after a few hours he finally stopped walking to take in his surrounds. He was downtown. It was quiet now, all the businesses closed for the evening, all the workers at home with their families. And as the darkness washed over him, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. But the anger was still boiling inside and every time he closed his eyes, he saw JC's face behind closed eyelids, apologetic eyes, pity written clearly across his face. Justin knows if he'd stayed, if he'd had to look at that expression for one more moment, he might have leapt across the table and punched it right off JC's face. But instead, he'd left, wandered around town for hours. And to no avail. Walking normally calmed him down, made him think more clearly. But right now, all he wanted, all he needed, was to know what was going on. He needed to know what was happening tomorrow night that his father didn't want him to know about. What was happening that his father trusted JC enough to take care of but didn't trust Justin enough to be part of.
Turning quickly, he headed down a dark alley, a short cut to Chris's apartment. Chris would know what was going on and Justin wasn't leaving until he got some answers.
It was late, but that didn't stop him from knocking loudly on Chris's door, knuckles rapping until they turned slightly pink. And when Chris finally pulled the door open, Justin caught the scowl immediately. Justin matched it, crossing his arms over his chest. Chris was dressed scarcely. He'd thrown on a pair of pants, still open at his waist, obviously pulled on in a hurry. His hair was a mess, his lips were full and bruised, like he'd just been kissed, and he had faint scratch marks, fresh and tinged pink across his shoulder, arms, and chest. Justin had very obviously interrupted something here, but at this point, he didn't care. He came for answers and wasn't leaving until he got them.
"I need to talk to you."
"Justin, I'm kinda in the middle of something..."
"I don't care. I need to talk to you. Now." He moved closer, stepping into the doorway in case Chris decided to simply shut the door on him, using his body to block it, eyes never wavering from Chris. Chris stared at him intently for a moment, eyes taking in Justin's face, his arms crossed over his chest, the tense muscles rippling under his clothing, the set jaw. He finally sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Ten minutes. The park across the street. Wait for me there." Justin shot him a look, a warning that he better show. Chris nodded and Justin stepped back, allowing him to shut the door.
When Chris showed up, not more than ten minutes later, Justin was pacing back and forth in front of a bench. He'd tried sitting, but that had only lasted a moment before he needed to move again. Justin turned, eyes meeting Chris's. Chris was watching him intently, eyes shadowed in the darkness.
"Kid, you're pacing. What's going on?" Justin paced one more time before stopping, eyes meeting Chris's again. His hands were at his side, clenching and unclenching over and over.
"What is going on, Chris?"
"You're the one who interrupted me in the middle of the night," Chris reminded him. "I think you're the one that needs to answer that question." Justin was back to pacing, five steps in front of the bench before turning and taking five steps in the other direction. Chris watched him for a minute before finally grabbing his arm and forcing him to sit. "Makin' me dizzy," he mumbled, running a hand over his face.
"What's up with my dad and JC?" Justin turned cold blue eyes toward Chris. Chris saw the anger coursing through them immediately and sat back slightly. "What's going down tomorrow night?"
"Nothing," Chris said, shaking his head slightly for emphasis.
"Do not lie to me right now, Kirkpatrick. I'm not in the fucking mood. I know you better than that. And I know JC would never pull a job without you. You're one of the best he has. You know what's going on and I want to know what it is." The anger flashing across his face caught Chris off guard. He'd never seen Justin so mad. And he sighed tiredly before meeting Justin's eyes again.
"I don't know all the details." He stopped as Justin shot him a hard glare. He raised his hands in defense. "Serious, fella. You know JC. He keeps shit to himself until it's necessary for the people involved to know."
"Just tell me what you do know," Justin said, voice low and dangerous.
"Plot to kill Vanvino. All I know is we're meeting tomorrow night at the warehouse." Justin eyes searched Chris's face, sizing him up, making sure he wasn't lying. "Honest. That's all the info I got." Justin climbed to his feet again, resuming his pacing.
"Do you know what it's like, Chris? Do you have any idea what it feels like to know you're own father is ashamed of you? That he is more satisfied using someone who's not even related to him instead of his own son? Do you know what it's like to be a disappointment?" He was walking faster and faster, arms flailing wildly as he spoke, anger curling around his stomach, swimming through his chest. "Do you know what it's like to have your childhood best friend outshine you to the point of your own father rejecting you? And then to have him pity you?"
"Justin." Chris reached out, attempting to calm Justin down. But Justin moved too quickly and Chris's hand hit nothing but air. He didn't have to ask who Justin was talking about. He knew about the animosity, the competitive nature between them. He knew that Randy looked at JC to get all his work done for him.
"Pity, Chris. He slipped up at dinner, made a comment about tomorrow night. My father shut him up pretty quickly, but I caught the looks. He never intended for me to be part of this. He didn't want me to be there. Do you have any idea what that feels like? Then that fucker had the nerve to look like he wanted to apologize." He was rambling slightly and Chris wasn't sure if it was JC or Randy that had shown pity, if it was JC or Randy that had wanted to apologize. But he got the general idea. He felt bad for the kid, could understand the anger completely. But he knew Justin needed to calm down. "I gotta get outta here." He turned to leave, but Chris lunged, grabbing his arm to keep him from walking away.
"Don't run out of here angry, Timberlake. I know you and I don't want you doing something you're gonna regret."
"Let me go, Chris." His voice was low, dangerously low. Chris knew he was playing with fire right now, but he needed to get Justin calmed down. Justin tugged hard, trying to free his arm, but Chris's grip was too tight and Justin struggled for a moment before glaring at Chris. "Let go."
"No," Chris shook his head. "You need to..." Justin's fist came out of nowhere, swinging wildly. And Chris had no time to block it, had no time to duck or move out of the way as he connected with his face. He could feel the blood immediately, dripping from his nose. And Justin pulled away quickly, looking back at Chris for a moment, slight apprehension, slight shock apparent on his face. But as Chris brought a hand up to his face, cradling his nose, eyes wide and full of shock on Justin, Justin shook his head and turned, running out of the park and into the dark night.
*****
Justin stood in front of the restaurant, looking up at the dark windows of the second story. His fists were still clenched tightly together, his jaw set tightly. And his eyes burned with anger. He'd never been to JC's apartment, but he knew this was it from conversations he'd heard over dinners at his house. And tonight, he planned on going up there. Slipping in the side door, he moved up the steps two at a time, his closed fist hitting JC's door immediately when he reached it. Over and over he pounded on the door. All the windows had been dark from the street below so he assumed JC was sleeping, but he didn't care. This was getting taken care of tonight.
Finally, the door swung open and JC was in front of him. It was oddly reminiscent of hours ago when Chris's door had swung open. JC was naked except for a quickly thrown on pair of pants. His long curls were a rumpled mess, one side flat against his head from where he'd been sleeping on it. But sleep filled his eyes instead of the lust he'd seen still burning in Chris's from the woman Chris had been with. Justin pushed past JC, into the apartment and turned sharply, his angry glare boring into JC's own eyes. He vaguely noticed the gun in JC's hand, but it was down by JC's side and Justin didn't give it another thought.
"I have never, ever hated someone as much as I hate you," Justin said, hands clenched tightly by his side. JC's eyes went wide for a moment but he recovered quickly, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "You, of all people, should understand what it's like to want to be accepted in your family. I know you better than you think, JC. I know you've never felt like you truly belong in our family, even though my parents have always been so wonderful to you since yours got killed. I don't understand how you would let that happen to someone else." JC rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall.
"Stop being so dramatic. You're family loves you and you know it. Don't try and get pity out of me." And that quickly, with that single word still floating around the room, Justin stepped closer, only inches away from JC. His voice was low and dangerous, his eyes flashing wildly.
"Pity? I never wanted your fucking pity to begin with. But when you looked at me earlier. God, JC. Was it intentional? The random question to my father about tomorrow? Or did you do it on purpose, just so I'd be aware of what I was missing, of what I'm not allowed to be a part of? Because I can't figure it out. The look on your face, the fucking pity I saw there says maybe it wasn't on purpose. But then that goes against everything you are, everything I know about you."
"You don't know anything about me." JC's body tensed, the words coming out more harshly than he'd intended. The truth was, it had been an accident. He'd been thinking about it and had completely forgotten Justin was there. And Justin was right, there had been pity on his face, an apology on his tongue. An apology he didn't want to mean but knew that he meant regardless. And he hated that Justin made him feel apologetic over it, hated that he actually felt sorry for Justin and the way Randy was treating him.
"I know more about you than you'd like to think I do." Justin grinned and took a step back. "I know that you're not near as secure as you like people to believe you are. I know that you're scared out of your mind that you'll lose the only family you have left." He stopped, eyes meeting JC's for a long moment. "And I know that this past month, everything that has happened between us, this awkwardness that's been going on, is because you're afraid that my father might someday see that I really am capable of doing what he wants me to do. You're afraid that he'll finally let me in and I'll take your place in his life." Justin had been guessing, mostly, but when he saw the pain and sadness fall across JC's face, he knew he'd hit home. It was only there for a minute before JC's defensives came back up, falling back into place, but it had been enough for Justin. "Unfortunately for you, you're not included in the biggest assassination plot the Timberlake gang has ever planned." JC's smirk sent a chill through Justin, but his anger was still there, boiling over.
"No thanks to you! JC, you have so much power when it comes to my father. You know how much this means to me. And you said it yourself, that day outside Vanvino's shop. You said you saw the anger in me that I needed. Yet, for your own selfish reasons, you let my father think I wasn't capable of any of it, you let him just cast me aside. You couldn't have helped me instead?"
Response after response flashed through JC's mind. Justin was right and it hit a place inside JC, made him ache to think about it. He could have told Randy that Justin might be ready. He could have offered to help Justin horn in on the skill he needed. And yes, he had kept it all to himself, allowed Randy to exclude Justin, and he'd done it for his own selfish reason. So instead of asking Justin why the hell he thought JC would help him, instead of saying something about Randy not trusting him to not screw up again, he sighed and ran a hand across his face, all the anger and amusement draining out of him.
"Go home, Justin. Just forget about tomorrow. This is dangerous shit and you really don't want to be a part of it. You'll just end up getting yourself killed." It wasn't meant to be condescending, not this time. It was simply a fact. Justin opened his mouth to respond, but he snapped it shut again. There was no animosity in JC's voice. It was what he truly believed. And that hurt Justin more than anything JC had ever said to him. Over the years, the insults they'd shared back and forth had been said in order to get a rise out of each other, to piss each other off. But this was so much more than that. This had been said in nothing but an honest truth. And the strength of it stabbed through Justin's chest, causing his breath to shorten rapidly. He staggered backwards, could feel the emotions building inside, feel the tears threatening his eyes. And there was no way he was going to cry in front of JC. No way. Turning quickly without another word, he pushed past JC, shoving him to the side, and ran through the doorway. He was down the steps and back out onto the street before he felt the first tear hit his cheek.
*****
It takes awhile for the emotions to pass, for the tears to stop falling. All the anger is gone, replaced by a sadness Justin's never felt before. When he's finally calmed down enough, he heads home, taking the few steps to the front door slowly and slipping inside, intent on making it to his bed in once piece. But as he passes the living room, moving toward the stairs, he hears a soft voice from the dark room.
"Justin?" His eyes close softly, not wanting to have this conversation tonight, but he knows he can't just ignore his mother either. He takes a few deep, calming breaths before turning and moving into the living room. Lynn is sitting on the couch, the fabric of her dress bunch tightly in her hands. "Honey, I was worried. Are you ok?"
"I'm fine." His tone was soft. She had nothing to do with this, and he wasn't going to take any of it out on her. "I was just doing some thinking. I'm sorry about storming out like that at dinner." Lynn reached for his hand, pulling him to sit down next to her, and ran a soft hand across his cheek. Her eyes were intent on his face, searching for the truth.
"Does this have to do with Josh?" Justin's eyes closed, painfully, for a moment and he took a deep breath before opening them and smiling gently at her.
"Yes, mama."
"Honey, what's going on with the two of you?" And it would have been so easy to slip into her arms like he was five again, rest his head against her shoulder and tell her everything that was going on. He knew she'd listen and offer sympathy, offer comfort. But he wasn't five anymore and there was nothing she could say or do to make any of this better.
"It's nothing. We'll be fine. I'm really tired and I think I'm going to bed. Goodnight, mama." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before standing and slipping quietly out of the dark room. He heard her soft sigh, but resisted in turning back around.
Once his door was shut, the lights still off, Justin moved to the chair in the corner of his bedroom. Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, he let his mind wander over the past few months. Visions of his father's disappointment, of JC's condescending smirk, of the harsh words between them. Memories of holding a gun, aimed at someone only to chicken out at the last minute, to freeze up and pull away. Remembering all the thoughts that swam through his mind, of the weakness he felt in not being able to accomplish what needed to be done. The resentment he felt for JC, for the fact that JC could do what his father wanted, for the confidence JC had when it came to doing his job.
His mind flashed back to that day outside Vanvino's flower shop, to the way he'd held the knife against JC's skin. To the thrill that had coursed through him for a moment, knowing he could kill someone with just the flick of his wrist, but then the fear that had followed when he realized what it was he'd almost done. He remembered the fear he'd seen in JC's eyes, had felt in his body, drawn tight against Justin's chest as the cool blade pressed into his skin.
And how ever since then, things had been different between them. Justin had temporarily found a strength he didn't know he possessed that day and in turn found a weakness he wasn't aware JC had. And in that new strength and new weakness, nothing was the same between them anymore. Something was off balance now and neither of them was aware how to get it back.
And now, on top of all that, his father had finally given up on him. It hurt, but Justin pushed it down, reaching once again for the anger he'd felt earlier, knowing it was what he needed now. Unfortunately, most of the anger he could find was directed at himself. It was his own fault he was so weak, his own fault that he'd failed his father. He could try and blame JC, for coming into their family, for taking over his spot on Justin's life, but when he honestly stripped it down, it all came back to himself. It came down to the fact that, beyond everything that had happened, he was too weak to handle it.
And finally, as the sun started to rise, turning the sky from a dull grey to a soft pink, resolve filled Justin. Standing, he moved to his dresser and pulled open the top drawer, digging around beneath the clothing until his hand wrapped around cool metal. Pulling the gun out, he flipped it open, checking for bullets, before sliding it into the waistband of his pants. Tonight, Justin would be there. And once it all started, once everything was underway, there'd be nothing anyone could do to stop him. Tonight, he would join forces with his father's men, with Chris, and Joey, and all the other men who had the strength to work for his father, to do what was required of them. He'd join forces with JC, and this time, he wouldn't back down. He'd find the strength within. This time, he'd make everyone, including himself, proud.