Shattered Glass

Can love survive and be rekindled when a heart is broken like Shattered Glass?

Liam caressed Milo’s cheek and hair. “What if this is all I ever wanted? What if all I want is you?” Milo wanted Liam so much, but he felt an obligation to make sure his baby knew exactly what he asked. “You know as of this morning you no longer have any obligation to me, the band, or even the record

company. You could go to college, even to Julliard. You have a genius for music. You don’t have to tie yourself to me.” Liam stared into his eyes. “I know what I want. You are my Pied Piper.” Liam reached up and traced Milo’s lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “I love you, Milo. Only you, for always. Screw the party—I only want you.” Milo lost control. No one could say he hadn’t done his duty by Lily’s son. He had loved his baby for too long to refuse him now. Milo took Liam’s hand and turned it up to meet his lips. He kissed his palm and worked his mouth up to the sensitive pulse point in his wrist. There, where the vein traveled straight up to his baby’s heart, he sucked up a mark. Liam reacted, unlacing Milo’s costume in frantic pursuit of his naked skin. Milo raised his hand to let Liam know they’d reached the hotel. The driver took them around to the back entrance. From there they took the elevator up to the suite. As the doors closed, Milo pushed Liam against the mirrored walls. “I’ve had a hard-on for six years waiting for you, love,” he said as he ground their groins together. “Feel me.” Liam placed wet kisses behind Milo’s ear and nipped at his earlobe. “I want you. I need you.” Milo crushed Liam against him. “I need you too, baby.”

Shattered Glass

AC Katt

Captiva Press

Placida Publishing, LLC www.placidapublishing.com

Placida Publishing, LLC. Imprint: Captiva Press www.captivapress.com

Shattered Glass

Copyright © 2010 by AC Katt All artwork and logos Copyright © 2010 by Placida Publishing, LLC. E-Book ISBN: 978-1-936356-02-7 First E-book Publication: June 2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.This work may not be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form or by any means currently available or available in the future, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, for free or for sale, without express written permission from the publisher and author. Distributing copies of this e-book to others is a violation of international copyright law and infringes the rights of the legal copyright holder. This e-book may not be shared, copied, sold, given away, offered as a contest prize, or otherwise distributed to anyone other than the original purchaser. Distributing this e-book as part of any collection, or with any type of resale permission, is also strictly forbidden and a violation of copyright law. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. This e-book contains subject matter of an adult nature. Please store your files to prevent access by

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Dedication

To Aunt Honey who always believed, and to Allen who has my back.

Shattered Glass AC Katt © 2010, All Rights Reserved

Prologue

Press Conference, Plaza Hotel, New York City November 2002, 3:45 p.m.

Sam Stein, attorney and owner of Stein Talent Ltd., looked around his suite at the Plaza. Half of his personnel came over from his office on East 73rd to handle the crisis. A press conference scheduled for four p.m. put the media in a feeding frenzy. Rumor and speculation had run thick and heavy for ten days. Sam took the statements of the three remaining members of the group Shattered Glass now sequestered in adjoining suites. The fourth went AWOL. None of the band saw or heard from Liam O’Shea in the past ten days. Rumors circulated, but even Sam’s best investigator, J.B. Saunders, hadn’t a clue.

He yelled over to his assistant. “Margot, has J.B. filed a report on Liam?” “Not yet, I’m working on it. You have ten minutes to get downstairs.” Sam picked up his statement and headed out of the suite to the press room. None of the principals would say much more than the basic facts. Bart made a pass at Milo, and Liam walked. Sam begged Milo Stamis, group leader and Sam’s best friend, to tell him what happened. Milo exploded in an angry tirade against Liam. “If I could find the little bastard, I’d choke him. He’s been carrying on with that fucking roadie, Danny, behind my back for years. Bart kept trying to warn me and I wouldn’t listen. Leave it alone, Sam. I’ve called everywhere to try to locate him. He’s probably sunning himself with his new lover somewhere in the Caribbean. Fuck if I care.” Sam shook his head. “I wouldn’t believe Bart Hedge if he told me the sky was blue.” “Damn it, you hired the bastard. If you’d stayed with the band, on the drums where you belonged, this wouldn’t have happened. Now get the hell out of my room.” Sam left thinking that the dark circles under Milo’s red eyes told more of the story than his temper. Sam’s brother, Rick, the bass guitarist, didn’t help. He told Sam, “Bart sidled up to Milo during rehearsal the day after Milo threw Liam out of the house. Liam hauled off and punched Bart and gave him a black eye. I went to the back to check the drums, so I didn’t see it happen. Anyway, what the fuck do I know? I get little respect and less information.” Rick shrugged with assumed indifference. When Sam phoned to ask Bart what happened the day after the original “incident” occurred, Bart refused to comment.” After some coaxing on Sam’s part, he would only say Milo kicked him out of the band and that he refused to finish the tour even if asked back. As far as the “incident” went, in Sam’s opinion, somehow, Bart was at the root of this whole fiasco. The guys were better off without that sleazy bastard anyway.I’ll have to talk Milo into replacing Bart for the remainder of the tour. He’s replaceable. Liam is not. How could I have missed all of the tension of the last few years? That’s easy, his conscience replied.You let the band slide because you let your business consume you. But Milo refused to go near Bart, so Sam would be forced to assume his former role and play in the band to finish the tour. As for Liam, none of the band or the crew laid eyes on either him or Danny Hobbs, the roadie in question, for ten days. When Sam arrived downstairs, networks, cable news, the legitimate music magazines, newspapers, and stringers from every supermarket rag that ran covers of alien invasions and three-headed cows packed the Plaza’s press room, all of them ready to take a bite out of Sam’s hide. Margot preceded him through the door and announced his entrance. The room burst into a cacophony of voices, all shouting questions he could not or would not be able to answer. Sam began to sweat in his Armani suit, but soldiered on to the podium. He faced the crowd as they settled into an expectant silence.

“Good afternoon. I have a prepared statement and will take no questions afterward. Liam O’Shea, Shattered Glass’ composer, lead guitarist and singer, has left the band due to creative differences. Milo Stamis informed me today that Liam will be replaced for rest of the tour by solo artist, Johnny Borchoi, who graciously agreed to interrupt his sabbatical to fill in for Liam.” The media exploded in protest as Sam prepared to leave the podium. Margot whispered, “Sam, you need to answer a few questions or they’ll bombard the office. We won’t be able to work.” Looking over the rabble, Sam agreed with Margot’s assessment. He returned to the podium and braced himself for what he knew would come. “I will go ahead and take a couple of questions after all.” Hands flew into the air. Sam pointed at random. The reporter jumped up. “Rolling Stone. Mr. Stein, didn’t you once play the drums for Shattered Glass, and isn’t bass guitarist Rick Stein your brother?” “Yes. Next question, over there in the corner.” “Billboard. There are rumors of an altercation at a rehearsal. It’s said that Liam attacked Bart Hedge.” “No comment. Second row, third from the left.” “Dex Arthur,Entertainment Tonight . Doesn’t Liam owe his fans an explanation?” “Liam’s music speaks for itself,” Sam growled. “I’ll take one last question.” A stringer for one of the grocery rags stood up and shouted a question that silenced the room. ”Sam, were Milo and Liam lovers?” “No comment.” Sam abruptly left the podium and disappeared behind the curtain, heading to the private exit. Their public relations representative pulled Sam aside as he attempted to exit the room. “Come on, Sam. At least tell me the truth off the record. Are Milo and Liam lovers? Rumors abound of a blowup at the rehearsal, and a physical altercation.” “No comment.” The PR rep left. Sam stood, shoulders slumped. He shook his head. The truth was more complicated than anyone could imagine.

Chapter One

Local Man Mowed Down by Hit & Run Driver The Trenton Times-Herald, May 1985

Dr. Frank O’Shea, 46, the English department chair at Princeton University, was mowed down in a hit and run only three blocks from his home in Princeton today at the intersection of Hodge and Library Roads. In the ensuing investigation, police experts found that O’Shea’s 1982 Honda Accord was run off the road over an embankment. Eye witnesses stated that they saw a black Land Rover SUV leaving the scene. Detectives claim to be talking to a person of interest, but do not have enough evidence to make an arrest…

****

July 1985, Hazlet, NJ

Sam Stein kept watch from behind the privet hedge. Milo Stamis’ less than pristine Air Jordans appeared like a beacon in the dark as he wiggled through the second story window of his house. Easy, Milo, Sam thought. The rest of his friend’s lean, twelve-year-old body appeared to hang suspended from the ledge for a few moments before making the short drop to the ground. Sam held his breath until his friend slowly rose from a half-kneeling position to the right of the rosebushes. Milo trotted over to Sam and smiled when he saw his worried face. “I told you not to sweat it,” Milo said. “I only jumped about four feet, you know.” Sam handed Milo the bike he recovered from the Stamis’ open garage. “You almost landed your ass in the rosebushes. You can damn well bet I wouldn’t be the one picking the thorns from your butt. Will your dad wake up and raise hell if he finds you gone?” “Nah. He guzzled more than a few shots of J&B. He’s passed out on the sofa, dead drunk. The fat bastard won’t wake up until Mom comes home from bingo at two. ” “Why are you limping? And what’s with the cut lip?” Sam asked. “I got into it with the old man again. He got angry because I helped Mom with her flowers today. He said I have to learn to be a man and not a sissy boy.” “Shit, Milo. Why don’t you tell my dad? He’s a legal aid lawyer. He could help.” “I can handle it. Besides, I got it covered. I promised I’d go out for Pop Warner football in the fall. That shut him up.” Milo sighed.

“But you hate football.” “Yeah, but he loves it.” Sam decided to hold his tongue. He knew Milo well enough to recognize that something more upset his friend this evening. Milo would tell him in his own time. The boys walked their bikes halfway down the slope of Gibson Drive. The night felt hot and humid. They heard crickets and saw the flying bugs circling round the glow cast from the streetlights. A small toad hopped across their path. It seemed to sense the boys’ distraction. They didn’t try to capture toads tonight. As soon as they traveled far enough away from Milo’s, they hopped on their bikes and rode down the steep hill, each daring the other not to touch their brakes. The breeze as they raced downhill ran through Milo’s hair. Sam watched the blond curls fly around Milo’s head. They zipped across Laurel Avenue and headed to the ball field bleachers. Sam and Milo had been friends since they met while in diapers and shared a playpen at a block party. Sam was a year older than Milo, although most of the time he felt like the younger of the duo. Sam sat on the aluminum bench as Milo threw himself to the ground. Milo picked at the grass then looked up at Sam with a strange expression, as if trying to do multiplication tables in his head. Milo was usually laughingly good-natured. There’s something really bugging the shit out of him tonight.After a few minutes, Sam had enough. “Okay, Milo. Spill it.” He looked down. “I don’t know how to tell you this. I just know that I have to. You may hate me after I tell you. God knows if my old man found out, he’d beat the shit out of me.” He raised his head, looked Sam straight in the eyes, and quietly said, “I’m gay.” Tears poured down Milo’s cheeks. He could barely control his sobs. He turned away from his friend, running his fingers through his longish blond hair in obvious anticipation of rejection. “I know. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me.” “Do you think everyone knows?” Milo asked with a note of panic in his voice. “No. Not at all. I know because I’m around you all the time.” Sam gave Milo his usual evil grin. “You didn’t get a hard-on when we stole into the girls’ locker room and watched the cheerleaders changing this past spring. Yet you try to hide it every time we have gym. You got to watch it around here though. We live in a macho asshole world.” Sam looked down the field to home plate and wished the world could be different for his friend. “That’s why I agreed to the football. I can’t let him find out, ever. What would he do to me if I told him? What if I told him I prefer guys to girls?” “You could tell him and come live with us.” Sam slipped his arm around Milo’s shoulders, giving him a quick squeeze. “I can’t. He’ll blame Mom and start torturing her instead of me. I’m going to have to lie.”

“You know I’m heterosexual all the way, but you’re still my best friend. Even if I think you’re wrong, I’ve got your back. You can count on Rick, too. He may be my pain in the ass little brother, but he’s loyal as they come.” “I know that. Your house is a refuge for me.” Milo picked at the grass. “Sometimes I feel like taking a knife to him while he sleeps. I didn’t ask to be born this way. Fuck, I don’t want to be different. I’ve tried to act like the rest of them. I can pretend, but I can’t change the way I am inside.” Milo slammed his fist into the ground. “Whenever it gets that bad, come over to our house. Mom and Dad won’t say anything, and you can talk to my father. He won’t rat you out.” “You think?” “I know,” Sam answered. “It’s the rest of this fucking town you have to worry about. In September, you better start making eyes at big tits or something, if you don’t want to stick out. My mom and dad told me and Rick that being gay is something you are born with, like your blond hair and green eyes. You are what you are, but we need to keep this under wraps until we get out of this suburban hell hole.” Milo smiled at Sam and stuck out his hand. “Shake on it?” Sam grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. “Christ, you didn’t have to grab that hard.” Sam laughed and Milo threw a handful of grass at him before they stood to go. “Yeah,” Sam continued. “We need to find something to keep you busy and out from under your dad’s notice. Maybe we could take music lessons together or something. Tell him you want to be a rocker. They ride Harleys and shit. Motorcycles are macho as hell!” “A band sounds awesome. I’ve been taking guitar lessons since my eighth birthday.” Milo turned his bike back toward the entrance to the ball field. “I’m glad I told you.” “Yeah, me too. We’ll figure this out.”

****

The next morning Milo stared at the phone, willing it to ring. Sam always called before ten and the clock read eleven thirty. Done waiting, he flung himself off of his bed and out the door. He needed to see where he stood with his best friend. Milo wheeled his bike out of the garage and closed the garage door. He headed down the street toward Sam’s house. He didn’t think Sam’s parents would forbid him to hang out with a gay kid, but he wasn’t sure. Not knowing made him nervous. He pedaled quickly, his mind on his troubles. Milo sped up, so lost in thought he almost missed seeing the rental truck parked at the corner of Miriam Place and Annette Court. He braked hard and fast to avoid hitting the slightly built woman and child who

struggled with moving boxes. After nearly running them over, Milo felt he should stop to help. With some relief he spotted Sam pedaling up the street on his bike. Sam stopped and Milo took the lead. “Ma’am, do you need some help? I’m Milo Stamis. I live up the street. This is Sam Stein, he lives around the corner.” “I’m Lily O’Shea and this is my son, Liam. I think we can use your help. I underestimated how much muscle it would take to unload this thing.” Both boys preened at the insinuation that they possessed muscles. “Just show us where you want them,” Sam said as he and Milo grabbed an awkwardly shaped box and carried it into the foyer. Sam shot Milo a look and grinned. At that moment, Milo knew he and Sam would be okay. Sam would never play for Milo’s team, but he knew Sam would always be there for him in the bleachers. They worked most of the day letting Liam, who looked to be about five or six, help them carry the boxes. Late that afternoon when Lily got the kitchen in order, she came out of the house, carrying huge ice-filled glasses of homemade lemonade on a fancy painted metal tray. The three boys drank greedily. Sam perched on the front step, with Liam sitting next to Milo on the grass. Lily joined them, settling down next to Sam on the step. The small group stayed quiet for a few minutes, basking in the late afternoon heat with appreciation for a job well done, when Lily asked, “Why don’t you boys stay for supper?” Sam declined. “I’ve got to get home. We’re having company tonight.” “What about you, Milo?” “If your phone is connected, I’ll call my mom, but I’m sure it will be okay.” Lily went inside, returned, and handed Milo a portable phone. “Wow, this is cool.” Sam had to look at the new electronic toy before he left. Sam examined it while the two boys walked to the bikes, Milo to move his into the driveway and Sam to pedal home around the corner. “You know you don’t have to worry about us, don’t you?” Sam whispered. “I guessed we were okay earlier when you gave me that evil grin. You better get going. I don’t want your mom mad at me.” “Don’t worry. Mom and Dad both know, and they’re sympathetic.” “See you tomorrow?” “You bet.” Milo watched Sam pedal away, then called home and got his mom’s permission to stay. “She said it’s okay, Mrs. O’Shea.”

“Please, call me Lily. I’m only thirty. Too young to be out to pasture yet.” Milo held out his hand to Liam. “Come on. Let’s see what’s for dinner.” They sat down to roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and peas. Liam whined, “Mama, you know I don’t like peas.” He followed that with a quivering bottom lip and a pout. “Your mom didn’t have time to go to the store,” Milo chided. “Come on, eat up or you will never be any bigger than a peanut. How old are you anyway?” “I’m six. I’m not a baby, and I am not a peanut.” Liam followed that statement with another sulk. “Well, six-year-old boys don’t pout or whine over peas. They eat them and thank their mothers for cooking their dinner.” Milo looked over at Lily to see if she objected to his remarks. Lily smiled in encouragement. Liam’s lower lip stuck out a little further, but his fork began to move. Over the course of dinner Milo kept glancing at the clock, waiting for the dad of the house to arrive. After a few discreet glances, he caught Liam staring at him. Huge violet eyes looked up at his green ones. “You don’t have to keep looking, you know,” Liam said. “No one else is coming.” Milo nearly choked on a piece of chicken. How had the kid figured out why he looked at the clock? Milo expected a father to walk in at any moment to take charge of the elfin-like waif and the mother he resembled. “He’s dead,” Liam remarked in a rather sad but firm little voice. “It’s just the two of us now. He died in a car crash. Mama and I still cry sometimes, but she says it will be better since we are in a different place. It already is. We met you and Sam first thing.” Then it hit Milo, right between the eyeballs. Something about Liam struck him as off. The longer he watched him, the more apparent it became. Liam was gay. He didn’t walk with the hitching gait of all the other boys he knew. He glided gracefully. His voice bore an ever-so-slight lisp, another tell. Much too young to realize his sexual orientation, but in Milo’s opinion, the kid definitely leaned toward bent. Milo knew the neighborhood. If Liam acted too effeminate, he’d be crucified. Milo’s brow furrowed in thought. All of a sudden he began to feel very protective of the younger boy. Milo knew Liam would need all the guidance he could muster, especially without a father figure on whom to pattern his masculinity. When they finished supper, Milo thanked Lily by helping with the dishes. He read Liam a story and bid them both good night. It was only seven thirty, so he headed back down the block and around the corner to call for Sam. Milo parked his bike in the driveway, well away from the car. Sam answered the door and Milo asked him to take a walk. Sam agreed and Rick, Sam’s younger brother, tagged along. “What’s the dad like?” “There is no dad. He died in a car wreck a couple of months ago. They moved here to get away from the memories.”

“That’s gotta be tough on a little kid.” “Not as tough as it’s going to be.” Rick piped in, “Can’t see it getting any rougher than that, I mean losing your dad.” Both Sam and Milo looked up with a start. As usual, they forgot Rick tagged along. Rick never said much. He lent himself to being forgotten. “Do you remember what we discussed last night, Sam?” Milo asked him in a quiet voice. “The kid has the same problem.” “How do you know this? You just realized it yourself, and suddenly you’re an expert?” “No, not an expert, just picking up the signals a little easier. Hey, you knew about me before I knew. Believe me, this kid’s in for a shitload of hurt, and his mother doesn’t have a clue.” Sam shook his head. “What can we do?” “Let him hang out with us and teach him boy stuff so he won’t stick out. As it is, he looks like a girl. We got to make sure he looks like a boy by the time school comes around. We’re going to be in middle school and not able to watch out for him.” Milo bit his lip. “I can watch out for him,” Rick piped up. “I’ve got another year before I go on with you guys.” “Ricky, you’re always in trouble,” Sam blustered. “How are you going to watch out for a little kid?” “I may get in trouble, but I know something about him you don’t know.” “What, snot nose?” “He’s already in third grade, even though he’s only six. I heard Mom talking about it to Mrs. Rowe.” “Who is Mrs. Rowe?” Milo asked. “The gifted teacher. They set up all sorts of special classes for him because of some dumb law. His mother refused to put him in private school when the principal suggested he might be more comfortable in one.” “Ah shit, Sammm,” Milo said. “I guess Ricky can help, but you can’t get him into trouble. He’s got to fly under the radar as much as he can. He lives between us so it shouldn’t be too hard. We’ll just let him tag along.” Over the summer, Liam started trailing after Milo and Sam, right alongside Rick. Initially, Milo patted himself on the back for helping the kid navigate the deep end of the pool. Later he admitted, if only to himself, he enjoyed Liam’s company. Milo felt as if he walked a tightrope. He couldn’t bring himself to shoo the kid away, or make him hide under the cloak of conformity. He did the only thing he knew how to do—he protected. The other jocks stayed away because Milo claimed

Liam as a relative and treated him like a kid brother. If the kid seemed a bit delicate for their tastes, they figured Milo would set him straight soon enough. Milo got Liam a de facto pass from the rest of the guys in town. **** May 1991, Hazlet Sam’s Garage

The boys finally formed their band, but the afternoon’s rehearsal went steadily downhill. “I can’t do this weepy shit, Milo,” said Mike, the band’s lead singer. “The weepy shit is for the slow dances. You have to have slow dances so the couples can dance together.” “Then you do the slow dance tunes.” “My voice isn’t suited for the arrangement. I’m singing backup.” “Yeah, I get to be the wuss and you get to remain Macho Man.” “You asshole. That has nothing to do with it. It’s the music.” “Fuck the music, Milo, and fuck your friggin’ band. I’ve got me an invite to join a band from over in Union Beach, and I’m taking it. They do metal, man. None of these freaking ballads.” Milo threw up his hands as Mike walked out of the garage. “Shit. Why can’t we find a decent singer who’ll just keep his mouth shut and do as he’s told? That’s the third singer we’ve had in as many months.” “What are we going to do now?” Sam asked. “You pissed him off, and we have our first gig for the prom on Saturday.” Milo paced, furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lip. “The stupid son of a bitch, the prom is why we needed the ballads. Girls like ballads.” “How would you know?” Rick teased. “Shut the fuck up! I’ve dated and fucked more than my share.” Red hot heat crawled up Milo’s neck, his anger almost steaming from his ears. Liam spoke up from the corner. “Milo, can I talk to you a minute?” “When did you show up? Never mind. Sit down and be quiet till we figure this out.” “I can do it,” Liam insisted. “I know all the songs.”

Sam and Rick laughed so hard tears ran down their cheeks. Initially, Milo also enjoyed the joke. But once the others began to mock Liam, and Milo saw his elfin features scrunch up in an attempt to hide his disappointment, he shouted, “Shut up. We can’t begin to audition anyone else until tomorrow. Even if we find someone, can they learn the book before Saturday night? Give the kid a shot. If he’s awful, he won’t ask again. If he’s passable, we get to do the gig and can look elsewhere afterward.” “Fuck, he’s a baby,” Sam complained. “He’ll look ridiculous on stage.” “No, he’s not a baby. More like the Devil’s Imp,” Milo snapped back. “If he can sing, we can sell it, at least until we find a replacement.” Rick, always the peacemaker, stepped between them. “Sam, how can it hurt to listen to the kid mangle one set? If he stinks, we send him home and he doesn’t come back. If he doesn’t stink, we do the gig and no one loses. This way I don’t have to put up with a shitty mood from either you or Milo for days on end. Come on, let’s do it.” “Ah, fuck, all right, all right,” Sam assented, while holding on to his piss-poor attitude. Milo paced impatiently, and Liam trembled as he took the mic. Rick handed him the play list, which contained most of the number one chart singles from the early eighties, everything from Van Halen’sJump to Joe Cocker’sUp Where We Belong . Milo stopped pacing to watch which track the kid would pick. They had no idea of the range of his voice, or even if he could sing on key. Liam put the list down and asked to use the keyboard left behind by Mike the deserter. Milo nodded. “What do you have in mind?” Liam pulled a wrinkled and smeared piece of sheet music out of the pocket of his jeans. Milo peered over his shoulder. He could see the original music was rewritten for two voices and backup. Liam blushed and said, “I’m a tenor. I can hit a good range. I’ve been taking piano, guitar, and voice lessons since I turned five, every Wednesday.” Milo screwed up his face. “I knew you took lessons, buddy, but I didn’t know you took so many. You never sang along with the band or made a suggestion about the music. Why?” “I wanted to keep coming to practice and didn’t want to get in the way.” “You’ve been at my heels for six years,” growled Milo. “If you got in the way, don’t you think I would have said something?” “You got copies of the chords?” Rick interrupted. Liam nodded and gave one to each of the guys. Sam kept acting pissy and didn’t want to give the kid a shot. “Who are you kidding? That’s a girl’s song,” Sam said with disgust. He threw the piece of sheet music on the garage floor and began to walk. “Hold it, a-hole,” Milo shouted. “Back to me. Did you look at this? He’s changed the lyrics so it can be done as a duet between a tenor and a baritone. He even provided backup harmony.”

“Milo, I have to get something from my bike,” Liam said. “How the fuck long is it going to take?” Sam asked. “I thought we were supposed to be rehearsing. This isn’t a good idea, Milo. It’s gonna put him in the spotlight. You know, call attention to his mannerisms.” “That’s enough.” Milo pounced on his friend, about to pummel him for his ill treatment of the kid. “Enough,” said Rick, again stepping between them. “Sam, read the music and let’s run it through once, before Milo walks and takes the kid with him. You’re the one who needs the bucks for law school. If the kid thinks he can pull it off, why not give him a shot? You can always walk afterward.” Sam took a step back into the garage and eyed Milo warily. “I’m not going to slug you, Sam. Let’s just run it through once,” Milo pleaded. “Once,” Sam stated. Sam’s stance said it all. Liam had one chance and only one chance. Milo thought,I’ll put it on the line for Liam this one time. Sam’s my best friend. Little bro or no, one shot is all Liam gets. The guys picked up the music. The kid had arranged Johnny Borchoi’sLover’s Suite . It was daring, and it looked too sophisticated for the high school crowd, but one gig could lead to another. They studied the cords and tuned their guitars. Liam slipped outside. Milo followed. He watched Liam go over to his bicycle. Milo didn’t see Liam’s bike often. While other kids his age owned sleek racers or rugged mountain bikes, Liam rode a bike which looked like it belonged to one of the homeless. Two monstrous folding metal baskets sat on both sides of the rear wheel. Lily bought Liam what she believed to be a useful bike and refused to buy a more stylish model. Milo approached as Liam tugged on the bungee cord attached to the saxophone case in one of the side bins. “It’s not Wednesday. Why do you have your music and your sax with you?” “Today’s your birthday. I did the arrangement for you and the band. I didn’t have money for a great present. I wanted to give you something. It’s what I had to give,” Liam answered simply. Milo watched as Liam pulled out his sax. Sam’s gaze moved to the sheet music on his stand. “There is no sax in this arrangement, kid,” he called from the garage. “Did someone else do this for you? Are you messing with our heads?” “I have a second arrangement to show you, if you like the first one,” Liam said. “The second one has a sax solo between two of the refrains.” “Put the sax down,” Milo ordered as he returned to the garage. “Let’s get started.” The guys heard his drill-sergeant tone and scrambled to their instruments, Sam to the drums, Rick to the bass, and Liam to the keyboard. “Run it through once for an instrument check,” Rick said. “Then we play the music on the sheet, but you are on your own.” He chucked Liam’s shoulder with his fist and stood next to Milo, who played lead guitar.

They playedLover’s Suite first for a sound check, and a second time to set the beats and cues. Milo noticed Liam used the long version of the song. Liam stood up to bat, and Milo knew he must hit it out of the park. Milo played the cord combo. It repeated four times, then he slid his mellow voice over the intro. “Turn around…” Liam picked up his cue exactly three beats after Milo.

Turn around look at the view Know that I’m in love with you, Waiting for the time you see That you can be in love with me

It’s way too early to feel this way But I need you to let me stay Until the day you see me The lover who will set you free

And then we can begin The process where you let me in To your heart. The day you start To see the light within my heart For only you my passion true

Milo’s jaw hit the floor. He almost lost his place on the sheet music. Liam sang with a bright, full tenor smoothed with a hint of bourbon. He sounded nothing like a twelve-year-old boy. Liam hit the second stanza not in weak acceptance of his fate, as Johnny Borchoi composed the original arrangement, but as a man, steel-voiced and determined to fight for his love.

My lover and friend

I’m yours till the end Of time, or eternity What a night bright with heat When our bodies finally meet

The guys played with heart and heat they never managed before. As they played the song, they knew it sounded hot. When Milo and Liam hit the chorus and last verse, what started as a garage band miraculously turned into four serious musicians.

I will sing this song to you And finally you will know That I love you so And I’ll never let you go Too far away from me.

Liam finished with a triumphant riff. He turned around, his expression blazing in victory. Sam and Rick broke out in spontaneous applause. Milo just stood there with his mouth agape. This rare talent sat under their noses for six years and never said a word. Milo kept looking at Liam and only half-heard Sam. “Liam, temporarily you are it. You are the lead singer of Shattered Glass, and I don’t give a flying fuck who complains about it. You have real talent. I’ve never heard a voice that good outside of the radio.” Sam’s enthusiastic praise constituted the best apology he could offer. “Fucking awesome, man,” Rick said as he put down his bass. “Milo, his voice melds with yours. It’s red hot and crystal clear. I’ve never heard anything like it.” Rick shook his head. “Thank the good Lord I didn’t walk out. When Mike hears him sing next week, he’ll know he made the mistake of a lifetime. Cleveland, here we come!” “Cleveland?” Liam asked. “The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, stupid. Anybody who has ever been somebody in rock and roll is represented there. I’ve never been, but I’m sure it would be the best museum tour I ever took. Much better than the dinosaurs Dad is always dragging our asses to see in New York and Philly. This kid is going to Cleveland and taking us with him. Right, kid?” “Leave him be, Rick,” Milo said quietly. “I’ll admit he is even better than advertised, but we need to talk to his mom.”

“I’ll do it,” said Sam. “I’m coming with you,” Liam said, sticking out his chin in defiance. “No, you’re not, because if your mom says no, it’s going to be no.” Milo acted disinterested in the outcome. “Milo!” Rick, Sam, and Liam all shouted in a whining chorus. “Look, buddy, I’ve been telling you to pay attention to what Lily tells you since you moved into this neighborhood. I’m not going to change my tune now.” Milo turned on the two brothers. “He’s twelve. Do you want the responsibility of keeping him safe, whole, and healthy, Sam? It’s true we’re only playing at a prom, but we want so much more. What then? What happens when we start doing the rounds of the local clubs? What about you, Rick? You’re fifteen, and you’re already guzzling beer. I’m going to have to take responsibility, and to do that, I have to talk to his mother. Any objections?” Sam spoke up in a low, but firm voice. “I’ll come with you. We’ll both take on the responsibility. Our burdens shouldn’t always fall on you.” “Me too,” piped Rick. Sam looked at Rick in disgust. “Bro, you are a very promising musician and you play a banging bass, but you can’t take responsibility for a houseplant without it withering in the pot. Stay here with the kid and work him through the play list and the planned sets for Saturday. Then, at least, you would be useful.” Sam and Milo took off, both shaking their heads.

Chapter Two

“Secrets”

Hidden in the Garden of Ego Planted beneath the vines Are all the deepest, darkest secrets That prey upon the mind You stroll the garden pathways

Basking in the sun, but Underneath the rocks they lie To taunt you, each and every one

—Milo Stamis,Words Without Music , 2005

**** Sam and Milo left the garage and walked down the block to see Lily. Milo, no stranger to Liam’s home, ate supper with them twice a week over the past six years, babysat Liam when necessary, and sometimes just shared a cup of coffee with Lily when it looked like she needed the company. He’d noticed that in the last few months she’d been steadily losing weight and rarely went out. She always spoke at the Earth Day celebrations and hadn’t this year. Nowadays, although Lily just turned thirty-six, she looked and moved like a sixty-year-old. Milo had tried to screw up the courage to ask her about her health, but put it off because he feared the answer. Lily answered the door. She wore a ratty robe, her eyes looked puffy and her forehead lined with pain. Her skin drew tight over her bones. A rash covered her legs, neck, hands, and arms. “Uh, Mrs. O’Shea,” Sam began. “Sam, Milo, I’m glad to see you boys. Come, sit down, let me pour you some fresh lemonade, then we’ll talk. Come on into the kitchen. It’s brutal out there.” They followed her to the kitchen. “Did Liam send you to see me, Milo?” Lily asked. “No. I came down because I have something important to discuss. Liam hasn’t said a word about you. Why do you ask?” “Because I think he knows. I can see it in his eyes, just as I did in yours when I opened the door,” Lily answered in a quiet, calm voice. “He must be trying to macho up, because he hasn’t said a word to any of us. You look like shit, Lily. What’s wrong with you, and can I help?” “I knew I could count on you, Milo. If you hadn’t shown up today, I planned on calling you later on this week. I’ve got cancer. There is no cure,” Lily said in a flat voice. “How long do you have?” Sam choked on his lemonade. “You shouldn’t ask such personal questions,” he hissed as he put down his glass. “Sam, honey, it is obvious you don’t know me as well as Milo does. I never beat around the bush. I

don’t lie, and I don’t encourage lying, although I understand the need at times.” Lily gave Milo a long arched look. “But it more often hurts than helps.” “Eh, sorry,” Sam mumbled. “That’s my friend, Milo, straight to the heart of the thing.” Lily gave him a wan smile. “I was in remission when we moved here six years ago. It has returned with a vengeance. I found out just after Frank died. This type of cancer is very aggressive. I’m taking experimental drugs. I don’t know how long I’ll have.” “What about Liam?” Milo asked in a panic. “You turn eighteen today, don’t you, Milo?” Lily asked. “You know that,” Milo replied, confused. “And you, Sam. How old are you?” “I turned nineteen this past March, Mrs. O’Shea.” “I have a huge favor to ask you. I need you to keep an eye on Liam if I pass on too early. I’ve already made arrangements with my lawyer to have him declared an emancipated youth when I go. Even so, it won’t fly without my naming a nominal guardian. I want it to be you, Milo.” She turned to Sam. “With your help. I’m not always this bad. The side effects of the meds come and go. However, right now, the medication just manages to hold the thing at bay. It’s not getting better. I’m afraid he’ll need someone soon.” Of course I’ll do it.” Milo grimaced, then said, “But I hope I won’t need to. You know I love him like a brother. I won’t let anything happen to him.” “I have all the legal papers drawn up. I just waited for the right time to ask your permission.” Lily sighed. “Despite what you think, I know asking this of you is an awfully big burden for you to carry. I would ask someone else, but there is no one else. Both Frank and I have no siblings. There may be some distant cousins, but I’ve never met them.” Milo turned the conversation back to the topic at hand—Liam. “We’ll take care of him. Never doubt we will,” he said. “I have codified what I want in my will,” Lily continued. “Now, seeing I have your agreement, Milo, and yours, Sam, for which I am grateful, I’ll have my will signed and witnessed at my attorney’s office. “As far as money, I know it doesn’t look like it, but Frank left us rather well off. I’ve never needed much in the way of glitz, and I raised Liam to be frugal. I believe Mother Earth needs us to consume less and conserve more. I have about seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars in his trust account.” “Jesus, you know I don’t care about money. Sam and I would take care of Liam no matter what it cost without a cent from you.” Milo fell silent for several moments. “Lily, there is something else. You just blew my mind with this, but Liam is expecting us to come back with an answer. It may not be the appropriate time to ask. How much does he know?” “He knows about the disease and is intelligent enough to look it up and find the prognosis. He doesn’t

know about the guardianship.” “Well.” Sam nervously played with his glass. “What we came over to ask you may make it a bit easier for him to accept. We came to ask your permission to include Liam in the band. He’s young, but he has unbelievable musical talent, and—” “I wondered how long it would take you to figure it out,” Lily interrupted. “I’ve been encouraging him to tell you since you started practicing in the garage. You know how shy Liam is. He told me he didn’t want to be a bother to you and your friends. He was content that you let him listen to you practice.” Sam rolled his eyes and turned to Milo. “I can’t believe we wasted so much time on Mike and the others, when Liam sat right there. Why didn’t he tell us?” “Ah,” Lily said. “My son needs to learn when it’s appropriate to blow his horn, so to speak. Seriously, Liam has a pretty severe case of hero worship for you, Milo. He didn’t want to do anything that might cause you to be angry or to push him away.” “We are serious about the music business,” Sam said. “We might wind up living on beans and bread. Are you sure this would be best for Liam? I want the best for him and this may not be it.” Lily nodded at both boys. “It’s good to know you care so much, Sam. I’m glad Liam has a close friend with his feet on the ground. I’m afraid Milo and Liam will always be dreamers.” Lily chuckled. “You once said you were going to study law. What kind?” “I plan to specialize in the entertainment field, both as a lawyer and as a manager for my clients. I want to represent Shattered Glass and other bands like it, eventually, so the first shyster who comes their way with big promises doesn’t rip them off. I’ve read that a lot of real talent quit the industry because of being tied so tight by a bad contract, they never made a dime. I’m not going to let it happen to these guys. I am an adequate drummer, but I’ll be one hell of a lawyer.” Milo clapped as Sam bowed. “A brilliant opening argument,” Milo said. “Consider the case closed and conceded. We’ll find another drummer when the time comes, if that’s how you feel.” “If you boys are careful,” Lily said, “the money will last long enough to get the right kind of attention. If you are wise with it, Shattered Glass will not ever be tempted to sign up with a shark because you need the cash.” “But that’s Liam’s money, Mrs. O’Shea, not ours,” Sam protested. “As long as Liam is in the band, I would rather the money be used so you don’t get taken by a greedy manager or talent representative.” “If that’s what you want.” Milo eyed Sam to shut up. “Then it’s settled. Milo, Liam loves you. Be there when he needs you, please.” Lily turned to Sam. “You take care of the other three, including Rick. He comes to see me sometimes, you know. Your brother is lost and feels he has nothing but the band. He needs both attention and respect.” Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Sam. If Rick doesn’t feel included, the band will regret it and Milo and my son will pay for it.”

Lily grimaced as she stood. “I hate to break up this party, but I’m not feeling well at the moment. You tell Liam I said he could join the band. Whatever else you tell him is up to you boys.” Sam and Milo said their goodbyes and headed for the door. On the way back to Sam’s, Milo remarked, “Well, we got her permission for Liam to sing. I’ll take care of him. I have since he was six.”

****

The band rehearsed together every day that week for their debut. Sometime during the Thursday rehearsal, Milo decided the band needed costumes. Lily felt better, so the band met at Liam’s house. “You know, Milo,” Lily remarked, “Liam looks pretty mature. Despite the fact he’s only twelve, he’s already a freshman in high school. You don’t have to worry about sneaking him in the back door.” “I know that, but it’s the band’s image I’m worried about. I make him look too old, it could gross people out. Too young, and the other half barfs.” Liam had enough of listening to them. “You know, you two are talking about me and I’m sitting right here. Maybe I have something to say about what I’d like to wear.” “Okay, half-pint,” Sam said. “What do you think?” “Milo all in white with me completely in black. Milo’s first idea, the Devil’s Imp, is the most compelling. It allows me to be a kid, but because I’m an imp of the devil I get to be adult-like at the same time. Sam and Rick wear black jeans and white T-shirts with the band’s name. All it costs us are the T-shirts.” “Which I will gladly pay for,” Lily interrupted. “Milo, can I bring the sax on Saturday?” Liam asked. “Will you stop with the sax already?” Sam said. “We don’t have arrangements for the sax. If you play the sax, who plays the keyboard?” “Milo can play—” “Enough,” said Milo. “No sax this time.” Liam shot Sam a dirty look, but sat down at Milo’s request. He loved looking at Milo, golden hair paired with green eyes and a rich tan. Every night as he lay in bed, he fantasized about Milo returning his less than brotherly feelings. Someday, Liam was determined he would. He loved Milo Stamis and would have no other, ever. As soon as he laid eyes on Milo, even at six years old, he knew he’d love him forever. Milo punched him in the arm. “Stop daydreaming. We have work to do. We have to go to the mall and

pick out the shirts and the logos. You can come with me. Sam and Rick have to go home for supper. We’ll catch a burger at MickeyD’s.” Someday he’ll see me as more than a little brother, Liam thought.This I swear.

****

Milo and Liam saw a really neat logo at the mall, a heart fronting a guitar with a shard of glass piercing the core. Both boys agreed that it fit. They ordered a dozen white shirts and four black shirts for Liam. As they sat in McDonald’s, they discussed the look of the band. “I don’t like glitter or grunge,” Liam said as he chewed on a french fry. “Both of those looks are already associated with mega bands. I don’t think we should typecast ourselves so quickly.” “Your point?” asked Milo as he grabbed one of Liam’s fries. “Told you, you should have ordered the extra large bag. Now you’re stealing from a growing boy.” “You won’t eat them all. You never do.” “My stomach is finicky. Whenever I get upset, I barf.” Liam shrugged. “TMI, buddy. Too much information.” Milo reached for another fry. “So when are we going to start doing our own stuff? You and I work pretty well together. I’ll do the music, you write the words.” “Let’s get our first gig over with, eh? Then we can see what develops. After all, we could fall on our ass.” “Or not,” said Liam as he punched Milo’s arm. “I think I know what I’m going to do to go with the costume.” “Okay, so spill.” Milo grabbed the last fry. “My hair is as black as the T-shirts. I’ll leave it loose instead of tying it in the leather lace. Let’s go to the shoe store. I want a pair of knee-high boots.” “You don’t get those at the shoe store. They’re really expensive, and you have to get them at an equestrian shop.” “So? I’ll have Mom take me tomorrow.” Liam got up, ready to go. Milo took his arm and pulled him back down on the chair. “Liam, we have to talk about Lily. There is no right time to say this, so now is as good a time as any.” “I know what you’re going to say. I’m dealing. I’m taking each day as it comes, just like she’s doing.”

“Do you know about the arrangements she’s made for you?” Milo asked. “I haven’t asked her. I don’t want to remind her or upset her.” “Liam.” Milo grabbed the younger boy’s hand from across the table. “She left you to me. Well, actually to Sam and me. Is that okay with you, buddy? There’s still time to change things.” “You’ve been my best friend since I turned six. If I can’t be with Mama, then there is no one else I’d rather be with than you…eh, and the guys,” Liam said. “If you need to talk, half-pint, one of us is always around.” “I know. Thanks. Now what do you think of a little bit of white face powder and some black eyeliner? Maybe you could take me for the boots?”

****

The next evening, Milo felt nervous as he drove his father’s car to pick up Liam. He brought his regular date, Debbie Nelson. She didn’t complain when he told her he’d arranged to pick up Liam. Deb was a good girl with no interest in sex before marriage, and Milo knew he should break it off with her soon before things got too complicated and she got hurt. They rang the door bell. Lily being Lily invited them for a glass of lemonade before they left. As they sat drinking from Lily’s best crystal, Liam bounded down the stairs, his long legs encased in tight black jeans. His leather riding boots reached up to the knee, and he wore the band T-shirt. Milo felt his body immediately respond in a nearly painful way when Liam’s eyes landed on him and he smiled. “You look hot, Liam.” Debbie laughed “Instead of that tee, you guys should have those medieval shirts with the laces. That would be freaking awesome.” Lily smiled. “You should take the young lady’s advice, Milo. She looks beautiful tonight and has a unique sense of style.” “Next time, Mom, okay?” Liam chipped in. “Okay.” Liam kissed Lily goodbye and bounded out the door. Milo shouted after him, “Back seat, half-pint. I’ve got a date.” “You won’t be able to call him that too much longer,” Debbie said. “He’s going to have every girl in school chasing him next year. Your little Liam will be a total hunk.” I’m afraid so, and I’m even more afraid to notice, Milo thought.

****

That night, Liam seduced Milo with his music. They went into the gig as mentor and student, with Liam as a kid brother who needed constant protection. They came out as equals. Milo and Liam dropped Debbie home and went to Sam’s garage to celebrate. Sam brought in a six-pack of his father’s Bud for him and Milo, and Coke for Liam and Rick. Rick greeted them with exuberance. “We knocked it out of the park tonight. Damn it, we left the stage to a standing ovation.” “Debbie told me some girls actually cried when we playedLover’s Suite ,” Milo added. “They asked for your phone number, Liam,” Sam said. “I hope you didn’t give it to them. Mom needs to rest, not spend all day answering the phone.” While the others still congratulated themselves, Milo sat down to think. It felt like Liam’s music would swallow him whole and bury his own paltry talent. He needed to find his feet. He felt overwhelmed, but by more than the music. He became aware of the other boys’ eyes boring into his back. He sensed rather than heard the footsteps behind him. Sam put his hand on Milo’s shoulder. “Let’s take a walk.” They stepped out the side door to the garage and Sam asked, “Are you all right with this?” “I don’t know. I’m struggling. Since Liam joined the band, my feelings for the kid have changed. I’m spending more and more time with him. I’m afraid of the depth of my feelings.” “You gotta rein it in. He’s twelve, not eighteen. If the wind is going to blow that way, it will still be blowing when he’s old enough.” “But what do I do until then?” “You bury it. Just like you bury the fact that you’re gay. You keep it inside you until the time is right. Meanwhile, you let the kid be a kid. Besides, you should be out and proud when you make a move on him. You don’t want him to be a closet head case, do you?” “Like me, you mean?” “Yeah, Milo, like you. It’s not healthy for you, and it certainly won’t be healthy for him. You hide your true nature from everyone but Rick and me. It’s that inherent macho bullshit from your dad. I believe it is going to cost you some day. Something really dear.” Sam sipped his beer. “While we’re discussing the future, I want to tell you that I decided to go to Monmouth University. They have a good pre-law program, and it’s just a few miles down the road. That way, I’ll be close enough in case you and the kid need me.”

“But the band is going to really take off. Couldn’t you see that tonight?” “Hold on,” Sam protested. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep repeating this until you actually listen. I am committed to the band this summer and through the next four years. I’ve got a free ride at Monmouth for undergraduate work. I’ll be around to play gigs and practice. After that, man, you need to find another drummer. I’m going to law school. But I’ll be close enough to get here on short notice if Liam needs me. I’ll always be with the band, but not as the drummer. I’m going to manage you guys and make sure you avoid the sharks in the water, but four years from now, you will need another guy on the skins.” “If that’s what you really want. Four years is a long time. By that time, we could be a mega hit and you may change your mind.” “You are not listening. We could have a number one hit album, but I’m still going to law school. It’s who I am.” “You have to do what you want to do with your life. It won’t be easy to replace you, but we will get along,” Milo replied. Sam gave Milo a hug. “Let’s join the party before Ricky gets Liam into the beer.”

****

October1995

For four years the band played the shore clubs. It was at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park where they were finally discovered in September of 1994. In July of 1995, Sam negotiated a great deal for them. Milo turned twenty-two, Sam twenty-three, and Rick twenty. Lily signed for sixteen-year-old Liam, who graduated from high school that June. They’d just finished a tour opening for a band the guys privately thought would be a one-hit wonder. They rented a rehearsal studio in Red Bank, and for the first time had professional facilities to help work their magic. “Hey, man,” Rick shouted, running in the door and waving a copy ofBillboard . “Lover’s Suiteis number four with a bullet!” “Let me see that.” Milo grabbed the paper. “Only last week we hit the chart at number fifty-seven.” Milo cocked an eyebrow at Sam, “Still going to law school?” Milo heard Sam sigh. This argument got old fast. “Yep,” Sam replied. He attempted to change the subject. “Milo, where’s Liam? We scheduled rehearsal for ten a.m. I thought he got a ride with you?” “I thought he called you guys. He didn’t call me. I don’t know where he is. It’s not like him to be late.”

“He has a cell phone. Why don’t you call him?” Rick suggested. Milo dialed the number. No answer. Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang. Milo picked it up. “Liam? Where are you?” The others watched as his expression changed and tears ran down his cheeks. He kept his voice calm—barely. When he hung up, he explained, “He sounds hysterical. He found Lily and she wasn’t breathing. They’re on their way to Bayshore Community Hospital. I’ve got to go.” “We’ll all go,” Sam replied. “You’re in no shape to drive.” They arrived just in time to say goodbye. Gentle, caring Lily died, and Liam became Milo’s responsibility.

Chapter Three

“Razors to the Heart”

Memories, like shattered glass sparkle in the sun Razors to the heart they are, each and every one

—Just Liam, Liam O’Shea

****

Liam believed his mother had survived her last year on iron will alone. She badly wanted to witness her boy’s success. It took three days to bury Lily with all the formality and honor Liam and Milo felt she deserved. Liam held up until the day after the funeral. Company came, some of whom hadn’t made it to the funeral. Suddenly, he bolted from the living room, where his neighbors and friends had gathered to offer comfort, and ran to the upstairs toilet. Thirty-one minutes later, after Milo saw to the guests, he sought Liam out. He found him curled on the bathroom rug next to the toilet, his face red from exertion and tears. He clutched his stomach, the muscles sore to the touch. “I should have come up here sooner. Guess you have nothing left to heave, buddy.” Milo reached up to

the rack over the toilet and pulled down a plain white washcloth. He wet it in the sink. Then, sitting down next to Liam, Milo pulled him onto his lap. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the hang of this guardian stuff.” Milo wiped Liam’s face and hands with the cool cloth. He placed a gentle kiss on Liam’s forehead, and Liam broke out again in heartfelt sobs. He cried on Milo’s chest while Milo rocked him back and forth to soothe him. After a while, Liam’s body and brain began to function. Nestled in Milo’s arms he got a raging hard-on, and underneath his ass he felt the poke of reciprocal interest. When Liam turned to Milo to respond, Milo hugged him in a quick fashion before shoving Liam off his lap. Milo rose, and in a brisk tone said, “Please get it together. The people downstairs wish to pay their respects to your mother, and they can only do so by talking to you.” Then Milo turned on his heel and walked out of the bathroom. Liam knew he lost control. For years he’d maintained iron control around Milo. He’d known he was gay since his first flush of sexual interest around the age of twelve. He arrangedLover’s Suite to serve as his declaration of love to Milo, a love that Liam believed Milo would never return. Yet even in his current misery, Liam felt the poke of Milo’s interested organ. The way Milo backed away from me so quickly tells me that he doesn’t want me to know. He thinks I’m too young. I’ll just have to show him that I’m not.With a new determination, Liam went down to see to the guests.

****

Over the three days following Lily’s death, the band moved in to Liam’s house. The guys planned it that way, but Liam felt it should be just him and Milo. When the last guests left, Rick, more than half-plastered, went to bed. Sam and Milo went out to one of the local pubs for a few beers. “You know,” Milo said, “Liam doesn’t like it that we all moved in together.” “Did you give him the line about bonding and needing the practice time?” “Yeah, but it’s not flying. I’m happy you guys are there if for nothing other than keeping me honest.” Milo lifted his bottle to Sam in a half-hearted toast. “Look, bro, you have to keep it in your pants for at least another two years. Longer, if you can. He needs time to grow up and fall in love.” Milo shot Sam a look. “You’re kidding me. You know as well as I do what Liam’s orientation always has been. We grew up protecting him from himself.” “Yeah, and now we have to loosen the reins and let him get some experience. Don’t worry, I’ll give him the safe sex lecture. I know you can’t do it. You want to lock him up for a couple of years so that when he’s ready, you can pounce.”

“I know he’s gay,” Milo insisted. “I know you’re gay, yet I’ve seen you fuck cheerleaders until the leather split on the back seat upholstery of your old man’s Buick. If you don’t push him out of the nest, you’ll be full of doubt and regret later. It’ll be like waiting for a train wreck.”

****

At two a.m. that morning, Liam heard Sam and Milo fumbling with the door keys as they tried to be quiet in the loud way only drunks can manage. He thought he heard a giggle and crept out of his room to the top of the stairs. Sam tiptoed downstairs to the bottom floor of the bi-level to the fourth bedroom, which he claimed as his own because he wanted no distractions from his studies. Liam sat on the third floor landing where he could observe the door, stairs and living room from behind the wrought iron rails of the balcony. If that bimbette on his arm doesn’t qualify as a distraction, I’m not sure what does. Then Liam noticed Milo had a distraction of his own. A curvy blonde with big hair and not too many clothes sat on the couch next to Milo. Liam watched as Milo fondled her breasts without much interest. He would bet that he wasn’t even hard. Liam let out a sigh. Milo shouted from the room below. “Liam, get the fuck into your room and go to sleep. I may live here, but have enough common decency to give me some privacy.” Liam skulked back into his room, pulled the pillow over his head, and for the second time that day lost it. However, this time Milo didn’t hear him over the moans of the slut downstairs. Milo spent their first evening in the house banging her into the floorboards under the living room rug.

****

1997

With Liam’s eighteenth birthday two months away, the situation at the house deteriorated. It became too small for four men and everyone chafed at the lack of privacy. As their fame grew, the once-quiet house became a tourist attraction. Liam finally had enough. One morning, as Milo shoved yet another one of his bimbettes out the door before heading to the kitchen, Liam stomped down the stairs. “Milo,” he shouted from the stairs, “this is my house, right?” Liam entered the kitchen, his body taunt with tension, his face red.

Not knowing what had him upset, Milo nodded in assent. “If this really is my house, I want to sell it and move into a condominium by myself. I feel like I’m running a whorehouse in Vegas. I’m no longer comfortable in my own home.” “Calm down. Us guys are entitled to a little recreation.” “Then how comeI’m not one of the guys? The last time I brought a guy I met home, you swarmed all over us like flies on shit. I’m seventeen, I’ll be eighteen in two months. I want out of this fucking gilded cage.” “I promised your mother I would take care of you until your eighteenth birthday. Then you can do whatever the fuck you want. But until then, you live by my rules.” “Well, you better start looking for real estate, because on my eighteenth birthday I’m outta here, even if I have to sleep in the park!” Liam stormed out the door, got into the Miata he received for his seventeenth birthday, and took off down the street. Rick and Sam entered the kitchen. Both men looked at Milo warily. “Looks like you screwed the pooch once too often,” Rick told Milo. “I warned you he teetered at the breaking point. You can’t be his confidant, friend, and almost lover during the day, and then bring a broad home at night and screw her until she screams. These walls are thin, man. He hears everything. He won’t go to sleep until he knows you’re home, either.” “I hate to admit it,” Sam said, “but my brother’s right. You’re too jealous to let him have a relationship of his own, yet you flaunt yours in his face.” “What relationships do I have? I’ve never slept with the same woman twice since he turned sixteen. I spend almost all my spare time with him. We rehearse together, we eat together, we hang out together. The only thing I don’t do is sleep with him. Damn it, you know I can’t do that for another two months.” “If you really want him,” Rick said as he made his coffee, “start courting him and stop bringing home the bimbos. You should have enough strength of character to last for two months without sex. God knows the kid hasn’t even been able to cop a feel since he hit sixteen. That’s downright unnatural.” Sam poured himself a cup of coffee. “Going to look for a new house might be a good idea. I suggest we look in Rumson. We can afford it, and they handle celebrities well over there. At least women won’t show up at the front door swinging their panties in his face.” Sam poured some cream into his coffee. “You have a tendency to procrastinate, Milo. You haven’t started auditioning drummers, and you know I’m leaving by January. You’ve let Liam drift without ever telling him how much he means to you. You’re still in the fucking closet, for Christ’s sake, and your father’s been dead for a year. Your mother’s in Florida and wouldn’t care if you were a eunuch as long as you keep on sending her support checks. Get your ducks in order, or the band’s going to lose its singer, and you’ll lose far more than that.” “Yes, damn it, I’ve been saving him for myself. I’ve waited two years so I can do the right thing by him. I gave Lily my word to take care of him, and that means waiting until he’s legal.” Milo brought his fist down on the scarred oak table. “I refuse to lose him. I’m going to tell him everything tonight. It will sure

as hell make the next eight weeks go easier. As for you two, don’t come home tonight. Sam, if you really need to study, go to your mother’s. Rick, you always have somewhere to go. Don’t come home piss drunk, go get a room.” Milo stalked upstairs, looking back to see the Stein brothers grinning at each other.

****

When Liam returned home that night, he found Milo waiting in the living room with an open bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. Liam looked at him quizzically. Milo never kept liquor in the house. “Hi, baby,” Milo said softly. “Come sit with me.” Milo patted the open cushion on the couch beside him. Liam sat, warily facing Milo. “What’s that for?” Liam asked with suspicion. “It is a bottle of 1985 E. Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline, a bordeaux from France. It’s a peace offering of sorts. I’ve got to tell you some things. Please don’t interrupt me, I have difficulty talking about my emotions as it is.” “Okay,” Liam said as he fiddled with the button on his shirt. He looked down and to the side, not wishing to meet Milo’s eyes. He prepared himself for news he knew he didn’t want to hear. “Please look at me, baby,” Milo said in a gentle voice. He put his hand lightly on Liam’s right shoulder. “The last two years have been the most difficult of my life.” Liam watched as Milo’s eyes filled with tears. Liam wiped his sleeve across his face and stared at the man he loved so fiercely. “You don’t have to take care of me anymore. In two months I’ll be eighteen and out of your hair forever, if that’s what you want.” Then twin furrows appeared across Milo’s brow, and he began to bite his lip. Feeling nauseous, Liam stood and clenched his fists. Milo grabbed his hand and pulled him back down to the couch, so close that their thighs met. “Baby, please sit next to me.” Milo poured a little wine into the two glasses. “Fine wine is meant to be savored. The longer it stays in the cellar, if it was a good year and the rains came, and the sun shone on the grapes, it ages and becomes better over time. Then it reaches a peak. The sommelier uses his wisdom and experience to determine the moment when the wine reaches perfection, when it has to come out of the cellar to be savored for all of its taste, texture and bouquet.” Liam settled, relaxing into Milo’s side, soothed by his melodious voice.

****

Milo pulled Liam onto his lap, gently stroking his hair and arm. He could see the length of Liam’s erection through the tight jeans he wore. “Baby, you are my fine wine. I started falling for you through your music when you joined the band at twelve.” Liam tried to say something, but Milo placed his finger on his beautiful lips. “Quiet, baby, let me finish. I knew there would never be anyone else for me the day after we buried Lily and I held you in the bathroom. I haven’t permitted myself to go near you since.” Milo saw Liam’s face come alive with emotion. “You had to know how I felt about you,” Liam said. “The whole fucking world knows how I feel about you!” Liam made to pull away. Milo kissed him reverently, almost chastely, but with a hint of what he reined in. “I promised your mother, baby. I promised Lily I would do the right thing by you, and the right thing does not include seducing an underage boy who might feel like he has to perform to continue maintaining a roof over his head.” “Why are you telling me this now?” Milo gripped him fiercely. “Because I’m afraid you’ll bring someone home, or go to someone else. I’ve lived in fear of you finding either a guy or a girl for years. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to tell you why I’m waiting, why I still have to wait until you’re eighteen.” “You didn’t have a thing to worry about. I’ve loved you since I first saw you. There will never be anyone else for me. It’s you, and always will be.” Liam laughed through the tears of happiness coursing down his cheeks. “I’m gay,” Milo said. “I’ve known that since just before I met you, but I’ve never fucked a guy. I’ve been waiting for you it seems like forever. On your eighteenth birthday, I’m going to make love to you, hard, passionate, then slow and sweet. In the meantime, we’ll do some old-fashioned courting.” Something broke inside Milo. He frantically trailed his mouth over Liam’s skin, his lips pushing aside the fabric of his shirt and his tongue licking along Liam’s collarbone to the hollow of his throat, just below his prominent Adam’s apple. Milo’s tongue moved in slow circles down Liam’s smooth chest. His hands caressed Liam’s skin, eyes watching Liam’s reaction to his touch. Rose nubs pushed up from the flat of Liam’s pectorals, begging for Milo’s mouth. They didn’t have to beg long. Milo’s long fingers rubbed and pinched while his tongue laved in concentric circles, teasing. He pulled with his teeth, lightly, then with more bite. Milo pushed against his lover. The outline of Liam’s cock strained hard against his soft blue jeans. When Milo felt Liam shake, he closed his eyes and tightened his arms around his lover. Liam completely surrendered himself to Milo’s hands and mouth. Milo thrust against Liam, feeling Liam’s long, slender cock moving against his groin. Liam matched his fervor. His hands grasped for the hem of Milo’s shirt, reaching for skin. They ground against one another, each feeling the urgency of passion long denied. Liam began to shudder, calling Milo’s name. Hearing his name on his baby’s lips while in the throes of orgasm sent Milo over the edge,

too. “My God, I can’t believe you did that to me without so much as a finger on my cock. I shouldn’t have let it go so far, but baby, I couldn’t stand by and let someone else have you. Can you wait for your birthday, baby? Can you wait? Because I promised Lily.” “I can wait forever as long as I know you want me.” They lay quietly in each other’s arms. Milo finally spoke. “Liam, you know that your age isn’t our only concern, don’t you?” “The guys? Any fool who looks my way knows I’m gay. The guys know.” “I’m more concerned about the fans who think we’re het.” “The fans know about me already.” “No, they think you’re young and flamboyant and that I’m het. I’ve been banging girls for years to keep from touching you. We have to stay in the closet until the time is right.” Liam looked at him. “When will the time be right?” “When the band’s position is so secure that nothing matters but the music.” “How long?” Liam asked, running his hand down Milo’s arm. Milo answered cryptically, “The better we get, the sooner we’ll be free. In the meantime, let’s start looking for your birthday present.” “And what would that be?” “A house in Rumson, large enough to include a small recording studio with enough property to ensure privacy for us, plus enough land for me to plant the garden I’ve always wanted.” Milo pulled Liam into a sitting position. “Let me clean you up, love.” He settled Liam back onto the couch and covered him with a throw. Bounding up the stairs, he opened the door to Liam’s bedroom and grabbed two pair of plaid flannel drawstring pants, one for himself and one for Liam. When he returned to Liam, he carried a bowl of warm water, a cloth and a soft towel. Lovingly, he slid Liam’s jeans down his legs, handing him the warm cloth. “In two months, baby,” Milo said, “I’m going to be the one to clean you up while I worship your gorgeous body. For tonight, I still have a promise to keep.” Liam took the cloth and the flannel pants and made quick work of the change and the cleanup. “Come on,” Milo encouraged. “Tonight we began your education in the art of wine appreciation, and maybe I can stretch my principals enough so that we can sleep together tonight.” They sat and drank the excellent bordeaux Milo chose. It was a ritual he intended to repeat. Milo felt the tension melt from Liam’s body as he sipped at the half-glass of wine Milo allowed him. “Are you going to kiss me?” Liam asked as he settled back into Milo arms, his hands reaching around to touch his face. He traced it with his fingers, learning the planes of his cheeks and the angle of his chin.

Liam began to place gentle kisses down Milo’s jaw line until he met the collar of his T-shirt. “I love the stubble on your face, the smell and color of your skin, and the way your hair curls around my fingers.” “Slow down, baby. I can’t take you tonight, but let me feel you body rest on top of mine,” Milo replied, his voice husky. “Oh God, I’ve waited so long.” Milo’s hand moved over Liam’s shoulders and back, feeling the contours of his body through his clothing. “Let’s sleep here tonight,” Milo whispered. “If we go to bed, I won’t be able to control myself.” His tongue traced the outline of Liam’s soft lips. Then he kissed him with all the pent-up passion he’d carried for so long. Milo held his Liam in his arms and the world was suddenly right. His right arm pulled his Liam closer as his left hand drew circles on his back. As he knew it would, the soothing motion of his caress sent his emotionally spent, soon-to-be lover into a deep sleep. Milo held Liam through the night, wondering if he’d been fair by not allowing Liam to date others. But as he watched his love and held him close, he knew deep inside that this was where he should be. He whispered into Liam’s ear, “No one will ever love you as much as I do, baby. This I swear.”

****

Rick swung his Jag into Murphy’s parking lot that night with the intent of scoring some weed. He swaggered into the bar and looked around. “Hi, Mickey,” he greeted the bartender. “Have you seen Bart?” Bart Hedge acted as Rick’s dealer and latest best friend. “Back in the pool room,” Mickey answered. “Pour me two fingers of Maker’s Mark and one of whatever Bart’s drinking tonight and put it down at the end of the bar,” Rick said as he threw a fifty at Mickey. He sauntered down the long bar, stopping to chat with the regulars, savoring his fame. Walking into the poolroom, he saw Bart in the corner. “Hey man, how the hell are you? No gig tonight?” “Nah, Lucky’s got some newly-signed wannabees playing tonight, so they gave us the night off. How’d you know I’d be here?” “Figured I stop in for a couple of short ones, then head down to Lucky’s to catch their act. The boys are busy at the house tonight, so I’m out with no plans.” “What about Sam?” “He’s doing what he usually does when we’re not rehearsing or on a gig, hitting the books. Shit, we’re on our way up with a major label, and that fool brother of mine still wants to be a lawyer. We’ll be looking for a drummer soon. You should audition. You’re good, man.”

“You think?” “Sure, I’ll put a word in for you.” “Thanks, man. It would be great playing together.” “Wouldn’t hurt to get my weed local, either.” Rick laughed. “Come on, I got us set up at the end of the bar.” Bart followed Rick from the poolroom. As Rick finished the second round, Bart asked, “You want to go clubbing tonight or what?” “Sure, but I’m buzzed, man. I can’t drive,” Rick said, reeling from the effect of the bourbon. “I’ll drive. I’ve got some blow that will make you sail.” “You know I don’t do the hard stuff.” “Look, once won’t addict you, and I have some X for the clubs,” Bart encouraged as they got into his truck. “Ah, what the fuck. I’ll give it a try, but only once, man. Milo would be all over my ass if he thought I was using.” Bart handed him a pill. “From what you said, the man in charge is going to be too busy tonight with the kid to notice what you’re up to.” Twenty minutes later, they pulled out of Murphy’s to hit the Shore hot spots. Rick felt like he stood on top of the world. “Man, this is going to be one hell of a night!” he said to Bart.

****

Rick staggered in the next morning while Milo showered. Liam made coffee and toasted some bagels. “Hey, hot shot,” he said to Liam. “Give me one of those will you? I’m starved.” “You don’t looked starved. I’d say you look like one of the undead. What the hell did you do last night? You don’t have long to straighten up. Milo’s in the shower.” “I’m a fucking big boy. Milo has no say over what I do.” “Tell him that,” Liam said in an undertone as out of the corner of his eye he caught Milo descending the stairs.

****

Milo walked into the kitchen, wearing his boxers and a smile. The smile faded as he saw Rick poured into a kitchen chair. “Man, what did you do last night? You can’t have gotten into that kind of shape on Jim Beam.” “I didn’t drink Beam. I did Maker’s Mark, and good morning to you, too. I’ll have you know I conducted band business last night,” Rick answered Milo a bit smugly. Milo walked to the counter, gave Liam a kiss on the nape of his neck and pulled him into his arms. “Is there coffee, baby?” “Coffee and another bagel, tea for me,” Liam answered. Rick raised an eyebrow as Milo nuzzled Liam’s neck. “I gather you two spoke to one another last night?” “Yes, we did,” Milo answered. His inflection made it clear that there was nothing more to be said. “So what band business did you discuss last night while guzzling your bourbon?”

****

Rick hesitated. He knew how Milo felt about drugs and about putting Liam anywhere near dealers or users. With Sam wrapped up in his studies, and it looking as if these two would be wrapped around each other, Rick felt it only right he had some company. Hell, I’m entitled to a life too, and Bart’s my friend.“I found us a new drummer. He’s been with the house band at Lucky’s for years. I know him, he’s a pretty good guy.” “You didn’t promise him anything, did you?” Milo asked. “Nothing but a shot at an audition when the time comes. I think I have enough credit here to promise him that. As far as the rest, he’ll have to make the cut on his own.” “Guess that means I’d better get off my ass and set up audition dates,” Milo said. “We’re going to need Sam’s help with the transition. Damn it, I hate that Sam’s leaving. I never really believed he would.” “Geez,” Liam said, “he’s been talking about going into law for as long as I can remember. It’s what he wants.” “Listen to the kid for once,” Rick said. “He’s right. Sam wants this, and if he doesn’t give it a shot, he’ll always regret it. It’s not like he can’t come back if he wants. Nobody, not even a close friend like Bart, can take my brother’s place in our hearts.”

“I don’t know,” Milo said. “It seems wrong, somehow. Gives me the shivers thinking about it.” “We’ll all get used to it,” Liam said in an obvious attempt to placate.

****

Rick said, “I’ll go call him.” He left the room. Once he was gone, Liam hopped onto Milo’s lap, licked his ear and neck, and asked in a small voice, “Milo, can we have kittens?” Milo laughed as Liam settled back into his arms.This is how it should be. His arms encircled Liam and brought him closer so he could breathe in his baby’s smell and revel in their closeness. A few minutes passed, and Milo sighed. “Up and at ’em, Liam. We have houses and kittens to scout.” “Can we get a house on the water? It doesn’t matter if it’s the river or the ocean. I love the beach.” “I know you do. Anything you want, baby.”

****

Bart hung up the phone and smiled. “I knew Rick would come through for me. I can cut it on the drums, and with all things being equal, being a friend of the bass player gives me an edge.” The guy Bart had tied to the bed tracked him carefully with his eyes. The phone call seemed to put Bart into a very good mood, which meant he’d give him a good whipping session and a hard fuck afterward. Bob hadn’t met Bart through his usual BDSM network. Bart appealed to him because he played on the razor’s edge of dangerous. Bart walked over to the bed, speaking softly. “Settle yourself, honey. I haven’t decided yet whether to use the cat or the cane. I’m feeling real good and ready to give out the pain. You know, pet, if you have enough patience, all things come. I’m going to take it all away from him, strip it off one thing at a time, and when he has nothing left I’ll take his life.” Bob hoped Bart would hurry up and get to the beating and the fucking, because sometimes his lover went over the edge of creepy.

Chapter Four

“Secrets”

Hidden in the Garden of Ego Planted beneath the vines Are all the deepest darkest secrets That prey upon the mind

You stroll the garden pathways Basking in the sun But underneath the rocks they lie To taunt you, each and every one

—Milo Stamis,Words Without Music , 2005

****

The band scheduled a one-night gig for Liam’s eighteenth birthday at Carnegie Hall. The venue was an indication of how far they’d come in the last three years. Sam found a condo near Columbia. He’d completed law school and studied for the bar in three states. He didn’t want to wait for reciprocity. He intended to take the exams for California, New Jersey and New York within a few months’ time so he could open his agency and properly represent the band. Thanks to revenue he judiciously invested for all four of them, they could afford homes and he could open a lavish office if he passed the bar. Carnegie Hall would be his last performance with the band. Sam hired Bart Hedge to replace him. He couldn’t believe Hedge was as young as he claimed. Bart apparently had some hard living under his belt, because he appeared to be a lot older than he was. But Rick had pushed for him and he didn’t do any worse than the other applicants. He had experience playing with a few second-tier acts. He didn’t have Sam’s style, Liam’s genius, or Rick’s love of rock, but he was competent, reliable, and able to step right in and pick up Sam’s sticks. Milo discounted Sam’s counsel about the guy’s shifty eyes. Liam told Sam privately that Bart gave him the creeps. In the office of the rehearsal studio, Sam and Milo drank a beer while the roadies packed their equipment in preparation to travel from Red Bank to New York City.

“Liam doesn’t like Bart,” Sam said as he put down his bottle of Corona. “Liam’s nervous around new people. He doesn’t like change. The four of us have been in each other’s faces for so long, he’d have a hard time accepting anyone.” “Bart is gay. Jealousy may be a factor,” Sam said as he stripped the label from his beer bottle. “Liam knows how I feel.” “You wouldn’t know it from the way you avoid him at rehearsals.” “Liam knows we have to do what’s necessary for the band’s image.” “Even if that image gives Bart the impression that you’re available?” “Liam and I already discussed this. After his birthday, there should be no doubts.” “Have you told him you love him?” “I’ve told him how I feel, Sam. Enough digging.” Milo took a long swig of his Corona, putting an end to the conversation.

****

Liam sat downstairs with the roadies. He usually sat with them while Milo busied himself with band matters. Over the years, he’d made friends with Danny Hobbs, who was a couple of years older than Milo. Married, Danny and his wife had a son. Danny and Liam spent a lot of time together on the road. When the others went out to party, underage Liam stayed at the hotel with in-room movies. Occasionally, Danny would drop by and they’d play video games together. Danny didn’t party because he told Liam his wife would take him apart. Liam sat on a stool while Danny packed up. “Your big day is coming soon,” Danny commented. “Yep,” Liam answered with glee. “Bet you are looking forward to it.” “I am, but I still won’t be able to go out with the guys. Not until I’m twenty-one. I’ve got to wait three more years for that. I hope I’m not losing my gaming partner because I’m turning eighteen.” “Not unless I lose my job, kid. Nora likes me gone every few months. She says it gives her time to air out the workshop. I’m going to break for lunch soon. You want to throw the football around for a while?” “Sure. If you have time.”

“Got to keep in practice. Jimmy is growing fast, and I’ll be throwing him the ball soon enough.” “How old is he now? You have pictures?” “He’s five. He starts school in September.” Danny pulled out his wallet to show Liam the latest pictures. “That’s some swing set he’s got.” Danny nodded. “I designed it myself. The whole thing compacts into a square for storage in the winter.” “Wish we had something like that for all this equipment. I always worry about my instruments making it in one piece from gig to gig.” “That would be an interesting challenge, kid. Maybe when the tour is over, I’ll go home and tinker.” “If you come up with something, I’ll make sure Milo pays you for it.” “That would be nice. Thanks.” Danny went over to his duffel. He pulled out his lunch bag and took it to the stool next to Liam. “Nora always make you lunch?” “Yeah. I like her lunches better than fast food. Keeps me trim.” “Mom always made me lunch, too. Milo can’t cook for shit.” “Then you ought to learn to cook for yourself. After all, Milo can’t take care of things forever.” “Nothing is going to change. I have his word.” “The only sure thing in this life is change, kid. People make promises that they can’t always keep. It’s best to learn to take care of your own basic needs. All you need to learn how is a decent cookbook.” “I’ll think about that,” Liam said, suddenly serious. “I’ll really have to think about that.” Liam got up and walked away. Danny was a good friend, but he didn’t know how things stood between Liam and Milo. A little voice in Liam’s head said,If Milo really cared, wouldn’t he want everyone to know I’m his? It was something worth pondering. Liam headed up the stairs to the office area to find Milo. He burst into the office and headed straight for Milo’s lap. Milo’s face changed into a foreboding mask. “Off!” He pushed Liam away. “What’s wrong?” Liam asked. “There’s no one here!” “What’s wrong is you have no control. When I said that we have to be careful and keep this to ourselves, I meant it. Was I speaking Greek?” “But there’s no one here,” Liam sputtered in confusion as he plopped his ass on the second chair.

“Yeah, not at this minute. Someone could walk in on us at any time. Can’t you save it for home?” “Are you ashamed of me?” Milo’s face gentled. “No, baby, not ashamed, just careful.” “Careful of what? The guys might find out I’m gay? That horse left the barn back when I turned twelve.” “Can’t you just leave it alone? The house will be ready soon and we’ll have all the privacy we need. Work is work. You don’t shit where you eat.” “So now you’re comparing me to shit?” Liam’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Can’t this wait until we get home?” “It can’t be put off forever,” Liam answered as he bounced out of the chair and out the door.

****

Milo’s head dropped into his hands. Why didn’t Liam understand the dangers of coming out of the closet? People got killed for being openly gay.My father would have happily murdered me if he knew. We could lose everything. He’d sheltered Liam from the seamier side of the business since the beginning. He hadn’t seen the other tour bands shooting up, or flying so high on booze and pills that they almost drowned in their own vomit. I can’t destroy his faith in human nature. Bad enough I’m going to take his innocence. I’d do anything to protect him, even from himself.

****

Liam met Bart on the stairs. “Where are you headed?” Liam asked. “Up to the office for a meeting with Milo.” “Don’t think he’s in the mood.” “This is business, kid. Something that needs to be handled.” “Maybe I could help you.” “Look, you are, from my observation, a spoiled, scatter-brained brat who happened to be born with a voice. Aside from that, everyone else here carries your water. Go downstairs and play your games. Like

I said, I have business with Milo. This isn’t playtime.” “Why are you so damned mean to me? What did I ever do to you?” “Kid, you are a burden to the rest of the guys in this band. They volunteered to hold your hand. I didn’t.” Bart turned his back on Liam and continued up the stairs. Crying, Liam fled down the stairs to the rehearsal room. He thought the space empty until he spotted Rick in the corner. Rick looked up and beckoned him over. “What happened now, kid?” “Am I a useless burden to everyone?” “Not completely,” Rick joked. “You do sing for your supper.” Liam’s eyes widened as more tears spilled out. Rick stopped checking the equipment. “I was kidding. Sit down, hot shot. What’s wrong?” “I ran into Bart on the stairs. He said I don’t pull my weight in the band. That you guys have been covering for me for years.” Rick put his arm around Liam’s shoulder and took a seat on the leather couch that used to grace his father’s office. “Liam, when we started this thing, you were pretty young. There are certain things common to rockers that Milo and Sam both agreed you shouldn’t be around because of your age.” “What would that be?” Liam asked, still sniffling, but with a trace of sarcasm. “Sex, heavy drug use, drunkenness, all the excesses of the worst of rock and roll. You were only twelve. Christ, you’re still a baby. Sam and Milo told your mom that they would take care of you. Sam and I moved into your house to help Milo keep that promise.” “What do you mean?” “I mean we acted as the buffer between you and him. The chaperones. We all knew you had a hard-on for Milo, and kid, you’d tempt a saint. Our Milo’s no candidate for sainthood. Sometimes it became difficult for Sam and me. We had the money to move out anytime. We hung around because Milo needed us and you needed Milo. That kind of put the whole band’s life on hold. Not that I don’t love you like a brother, but I’m glad you’ll be legal this week.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—” “Don’t sweat it. You weren’t supposed to realize. As far as Bart is concerned, he probably has the hots for Milo and sees you as competition. Don’t let him get to you. Besides, as of this weekend, no one has to carry you, right?” “Right,” Liam agreed with determination.

****

Bart lightly tapped on the open office door before he walked in. Milo looked up. “Hey man, what’s up?” Bart asked. “I just saw the kid coming down the stairs. Told him I was on my way up to see you, and he seemed upset.” “He doesn’t understand some things. Cut him a break.” “Who cuts you a break?” Bart asked sympathetically. “It’s hard. With Sam gone, all of the business end falls on me. He won’t be able to help until he passes the bar, and I don’t trust anyone else to do it.” “Hey, I’ve been in the business for years. If you need a hand, just ask. Is there something going on with you and the kid?” “What do you know?” Milo sounded irritated as he leaned back in his chair. “Easy, man. Look, I’m gay. I know a fellow traveler when I see one. The kid moons over you. Is that a problem?” Milo sighed. “I guess I couldn’t expect to keep it secret from you. We’re all too close. A tour is like a fucking small town. There are no secrets. It’s not you or the roadies I’m worried about.” “Yeah, the fans. Wouldn’t go over too big with the ladies throwing bras to find out the object of their lust bats for the other team.” “That’s what I’m trying to get across to him.” “He’s still young. When they are that young, sometimes the facts don’t cut it. They think with their dick. You’ve got to keep explaining it to them, or sometimes just let them jump into the deep end of the pool and swim with the rest of us.” “I can’t do that. It’s complicated. You don’t know how long I’ve loved him. Finally, we have a chance at a real relationship, but he doesn’t understand why we have to lay low.” “Maybe you should wait. Give him more of a chance to grow up.” Milo shook his head. “I’ve waited for six years. If I wait any longer, he might find someone else. I can’t live with that.” “Are you going to be able to cope if he steps out on you because he never got a chance to sow his oats, man?” “Liam isn’t like that. He’s loyal.” “Sure he’s loyal—now. What about later when you prime his libido?”

Milo’s brows furrowed. “I’ll have to take that chance. If I wait, I could lose him, if I don’t—” “Yeah, I see what you mean, you could end up on the shit end no matter what. I wouldn’t want to be you, man, having to watch my lover like a hawk.” “It’s not going to be like that. I can trust Liam.” “You can trust Liam, but what about everyone else? He’s prime meat.” “I’ll have to make sure I keep him happy both in bed and out of it.” “Still, sounds like too much work to me. If you need to talk, I’ll be around. Do you have the contract? By the way, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m discreet. The kid’s a hottie. I can’t blame you. He has that air of innocence about him. Nice kid, hope he stays that way.” “Thanks.” Bart left, whistling on his way down the stairs, pleased with himself. All I need to do is plant the seeds. His imagination and the kid’s insecurity will do the rest.

****

Walter Cheever, Esq. looked at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He saw a sixty-something old man with a grey, receding hairline, jowls, and reddened, rheumy eyes. His law practice had dwindled to one client, and today he could close the file. Originally hired by Dr. Frank O’Shea twenty-five years earlier, he later represented Frank’s widow, Lily, and after her death their son, Liam. Liam O’Shea turned eighteen today, leaving one last duty to perform for the estate. Today he would deliver Lily’s last letter to her son. The previous week, Liam and Milo came to his office and officially signed the paperwork releasing Milo from Liam’s guardianship. The accounts were audited, and the monies set to be electronically transferred into Liam’s name as of today. He hadn’t given Liam Lily’s letter last week because she specifically requested that he deliver it in person on his birthday. Tomorrow he would begin the process of closing his practice and moving to his retirement home in Del Ray Beach, Florida. It disturbed Walt that the police never found Frank’s killer. Walt knew he was probably the last living person who actually cared about the outcome of the case. Both the state and Princeton police suspected that the son of Frank’s former girlfriend, Susan Henderson, murdered him. They never obtained enough solid evidence to hold him. Although the detective in charge of the case attempted to keep track of Henderson’s whereabouts, they lost him a few years before Lily died. Lily never wanted Liam to know how Frank died, and he respected her wishes. However, Walt Cheever was determined to tell Milo the story so he could guard Liam against Henderson in the future, if he ever returned. Lily told him before her death that she felt as if Henderson might never give up. She

admitted she received horrible, taunting cards on each anniversary of Frank’s death, but she never told Liam about them and the police couldn’t do anything about it. Walter finished shaving and began to dress. He made up his mind. As of today, his obligations to Lily as a client ceased. He would let Milo know the circumstances of Frank’s death and let him decide what course to take, or whether to tell Liam. He walked downstairs to the kitchen, grabbed a cup of coffee, and picked up the phone. He kept a picture of Henderson he wished to entrust to Milo. “Four-for-One Studios, Hedge here.” “This is Walter Cheever. Is Mr. Stamis in?” “He’s doing an equipment check. May I take a message?” “Please tell him to return my call. This is Walter Cheever, Liam’s attorney. I have some information for him regarding the estate of Frank and Lily O’Shea.” “Does he have your number?” “Yes, but tell him I’ll see him at the party backstage tonight. I wouldn’t miss Liam’s Carnegie Hall debut despite the ills of arthritis.” “I’ll let him know to expect you.”

****

Milo walked into the office as Bart hung up the phone. “Who called?” “The bakery. They wanted to check on the cake delivery to the venue.” “There are so many goddamned details in running this ship that I never knew. Thanks for helping out. You’ve been a good friend these past few weeks. The roadies and the crew like you, and you picked up the book rather well. The only problem seems to be Liam.” Milo sat wearily in his chair behind the desk. “He’s okay. He’ll come around. Is everything set for the party and gig tonight?” Bart asked. “Yeah. I’ll be able to head home in an hour or two to get ready for the trip to Manhattan.” “Have you got a limo picking up you and the kid?” “Yeah. You need a ride?” “No, something's come up. I may be a little late this evening. But Sam has the drums for tonight, so it’s all good, right?”

“Right.”

****

Liam woke up late that morning after he and Milo spent their first night in the new house. Today, Milo officially relinquished guardianship. Whatever Milo planned after the gig, Liam hoped it included him and a soft bed. Liam slipped on a pair of sweats and bounced down the stairs. Most of the rooms still contained packing boxes. Their new housekeeper began work tomorrow. Liam didn’t know if he liked the idea of a housekeeper, but realized they needed someone to take care of things while they toured. Meanwhile, he fended for himself in the kitchen since Milo had already left to take care of final arrangements for that evening. He and Milo equipped the kitchen with every gadget they could find in Williams-Sonoma. Some of the furniture had already arrived. The rest would be delivered while they toured. The house was in good shape, but the gardens were a mess. Milo looked forward to restoring them himself. Liam finished putting on a pot of coffee when the doorbell rang. Liam walked to the foyer to see who it was. Milo said they needed to beef up security and had scheduled the alarm company for Thursday. When Sam drove down from Manhattan to see his folks, he could let them in to set up the system. As expected, when Liam looked through the peephole in the front door, he saw old Mr. Cheever. Walter Cheever looked even greyer and more bent than Liam remembered. He still dressed in Savile Row suits and wore British handmade shoes, but they looked a bit more worn and shabby. Seemed Walt—he told Liam to call him by his first name now—didn’t take care of himself as well as he did before his wife died from cancer last year. “Walt, welcome. You are the first official guest in our new digs. Come on back to the kitchen. I made some coffee. Excuse the sweats, I got lazy this morning and just woke up.” “It’s not every day a young man turns eighteen and plays Carnegie Hall. Congratulations.” Liam let the older man into the kitchen and put fresh coffee on the bar. He produced a box of donuts, which he hoped didn’t taste too stale, and set down the coffee, sugar, and cream. “You said you needed to see me on my birthday. What’s up?” “I have something for you from your mother. She asked that I deliver it on your eighteenth birthday.” As he spoke he retrieved an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit. Liam looked at the envelope, stunned. He never expected such a present. He often dreamed of Lily, but he never imagined she planned such a surprise for him on this special day. Mr. Cheever politely finished his coffee as Liam opened the missive. “I’ll be on my way, young man. I’m sure you want to read this alone. I’ll see myself out. I’m looking forward to the concert this evening. I have the ticket Sam sent.”

Liam nodded as he unfolded the letter with shaking hands.

My dearest Liam,

By this time, I hope you and Milo have established a solid friendship, which I know will bloom into something more meaningful as time passes. Yes, I know about your attraction to Milo and how he feels about you. When you were twelve, Milo and Sam came to me to ask if you could join the band. My son, you were so very young, yet there are things that I saw in your future which I knew you to be as yet too innocent to realize.

I am well aware what you feel for Milo is real love. Your father explained the O’Shea family “curse”to me ages ago when we first fell in love. Once an O’Shea meets his or her love, there will never be anyone else for them, ever. I know it sounds silly, but it’s true. You met Milo at six years of age and started following him around as soon as you met. I wish the powers had waited and let you mature before you found him, even though it would always have been Milo, but the gods are seldom kind.

If I were well, I might have been able to prepare you. I could have sent you off to college or to music school, then you and Milo would have met later on a more equal footing. As it is, I entrusted your care to Sam and Milo. Milo is an honorable young man, and as your guardian, he will undoubtedly wait until your majority to pursue that relationship to full intimacy.

Yes, my son, Milo loves you and will no doubt find his own unique way of letting you know. I can only give you this word of advice—Milo has a fiery disposition. Never let him doubt your love. Despite his brave façade, Milo is as alone as you are, and he doesn’t have someone to guide him as he will be guiding you.

I love you both with my whole heart. Please believe I knew what you and Milo were to each other early in your association. Unlike some others, I don’t believe love so strong is wrong. You have my blessings. Peace, my son.

Tread carefully through the world. Not everyone is as kind as Milo. There are people out there who embrace hate and let it nourish them. If you ever meet one, stay far away. Very far away.

Love,

Mom

Liam put down the letter and cried healthy, cleansing tears. If Lily knew how he felt about Milo, and that Milo returned those feelings, then the life they planned together was as right and true as he believed from the beginning. He slowly climbed the stairs and put the letter in his dresser drawer. It was too soon to share. Maybe he would show it to Milo tomorrow.

****

Shattered Glass booked the Terrace Room at the Plaza Hotel for the pre- and post-concert party. The room, recently restored to its original Beaux-Arts design, accommodated up to five hundred guests. Sam issued invitations to the media, New York celebrities, and the biggest names in the music business. Unbeknownst to Liam, Milo used his personal funds to reserve the Astor Suite with its breathtaking views of Central Park for a three night “honeymoon.” Appearances could be maintained because there were two master bedrooms in the suite, a very discreet butler, and both concierge and maid service. Milo arrived in the limo at the Rumson house at three in the afternoon. Milo raised the privacy shield between the front and rear compartments of the black stretch limousine. As soon as the chauffeur pulled up the circular driveway, Milo saw that Liam stood outside and waiting, packed for three days as instructed. When the driver opened the back door, Liam climbed in to seat himself for the forty-five minute drive into Manhattan. Milo, pleased when he saw Liam check for the closed partition, engulfed him in an enthusiastic hug. “Happy birthday, baby. Are you excited about the concert?” “The concert is just another gig. I’m more nervous about the party. Did Sam really invite all those famous bands?” “Yes, he did. This is as much a publicity event as a birthday party. Keep close to me tonight. Some of these guys are heavy into drugs and booze.” “So I’ve heard.” “You don’t want to go near that stuff.” “You don’t have to worry about that with me. I’ve had offers, but I’ve never even been curious enough to try. Excess booze and drugs affected the music of every band I’ve seen that used. It’s all about the music for me.” Milo pulled Liam closer to his side, “For me too, love.” “Will we get any time alone tonight?” Liam asked.

“I may have arranged for some,” Milo replied with a secret smile. Liam glowed and spent the rest of the ride cuddled at Milo’s side. Because of heavy traffic in the Lincoln Tunnel from New Jersey into Manhattan, the projected forty-five minute ride turned into an hour and a half. When they finally arrived at the Plaza, the party had already started.

****

Unlike the usual chain hotels the band booked for a tour, the Plaza was something special. Liam stepped into the lobby in awe. They took an elaborately decorative elevator car to the Terrace Room where the party already started. Sam met them at the door. Liam stayed close to Milo. “Sam,” he asked, “who are all these people? Do we know them?” “You met some of them while touring. I’m sure you will recognize faces fromBillboard and the media. This kind of publicity is great for the group. Now, you two need to mingle with the guests.” “Stick to Coke,” Milo warned, “or you’ll be asleep before we play.” “No champagne?” “Maybe later.” Milo winked. The waiters passed fancy canapés.No little hot dogs here , Liam thought. Liam looked up at the crystal chandeliers and the gilded archways of the balcony surrounding the room. A painting from a classical scene decorated the ceiling and Liam craned his neck to get a decent view. In truth, he felt like a hayseed in the big city although they lived only forty-five minutes away. He couldn’t act blasé, he was too impressed. Milo mumbled something about finding Rick in the crowd. Liam, so busy noting the architecture and the décor, at first missed seeing some of the guests snorting coke in the alcoves behind the floor to ceiling draperies. They found Rick at the bar. Liam watched as Milo whisked away his drink and replaced it with plain orange juice. “Rick, I don’t give a shit what you do after the concert,” Milo said, “but I want you sober on stage.” Liam thought that Rick looked more than annoyed. “You are not my keeper.” “No, I’m not, but I am the head of this band for the time being, and this band is clean and sober onstage. We are about the music, not the scene.” Sam announced the band was leaving for the venue to thunderous applause. The four principals piled into the limousine waiting at the Plaza’s front door. Security held back the barrage of fans waiting outside. Once they all made it inside the limo, Sam opened the partition and told the driver. “Let’s do it.”

The sleek black car sped down the avenue to the venue.

Chapter Five

“Lover’s Suite”

Turn around look at the view Know that I’m in love with you, Waiting for the time you see That you can be in love with me It’s way too early to feel this way But I need you to let me stay Until the day you see me The lover who will set you free And then, we can begin The process where you let me in To your heart the day you start To see the light within my heart For only you my passion true My lover and friend I’m yours till the end Of time, or eternity What a night bright with heat When our bodies finally meet

I will sing this song to you And finally you will know That I love you so And I’ll never let you go Too far away from me.

—Music and Lyrics by Johnny Borchoi, Arrangement by Liam O’Shea

****

The beauty of the Isaac Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall left Liam in a state of awe. The Carnegie Hall complex contained two additional venues, a sixty-floor office tower, backstage and banquet facilities, plus business offices. Liam stood on the stage and looked out into the auditorium. The hall held five elevated tiers and seated two thousand eight hundred and four. Despite their fame, it still astonished Liam that their concert sold out weeks prior to the engagement. Although the name Carnegie Hall was usually associated with classical musicians, many popular music legends appeared on the stage, including Judy Garland, Benny Goodman, and the Beatles. Liam could hardly believe that he got to follow in the footsteps of those entertainment legends. The hall looked empty save for a few of the band’s roadies. Milo finished checking the equipment and approached Liam from behind, placing a light kiss on the nape of his neck that gave him shivers. “Amazing, isn’t it, baby?” “We’ve played in stadiums and concert halls with twice the seating, but this is by far the most beautiful place I think I’ll ever pick up a guitar.” “Wait until we tour Europe. There are opera houses dripping with more gilt and baroque curlicues than you have ever seen.” “I don’t know. I like the restrained beauty of this place, and the acoustics are phenomenal.” “Let’s go to the dressing rooms and get into costume. We have to be on stage in an hour.” “Have Rick and Sam gone to the dressing room yet?” “Yeah, they headed right up there when we first arrived. You’ve been daydreaming for quite a while,” Milo teased.

“What about Bart?” “He’s coming. He’ll just be a little late.” “Am I a bother to you?” Liam turned to look at Milo. “Yeah, and you’ll find out later tonight just how much you bother me. Come on now, let’s get cracking.”

****

When Liam and Milo emerged from their dressing rooms, the backstage area crawled with media and celebrities who came to wish Liam well. MTV, the Top-40 stations, the music services, plus the entertainment news shows came to see their favorite rocker turn legal. It seemed as if only minutes passed before the signal to take to the stage. Shattered Glass roared to life with their first set, performing songs from their three albums. Sam did a drum solo and Liam, Milo, and Rick played like the Devil’s own band. Just before the break, they played their first hit single,Lovers Suite . The chemistry between Liam and Milo exploded. Both voices soared as they sung what Milo thought of as Liam’s anthem of their love. They ended the set to a standing ovation as Sam stepped forward to the microphone. “As you know, tonight we celebrate Liam O’Shea’s eighteenth birthday. It is difficult for many to believe the impressive list of musical achievements our Liam has accomplished at such a young age. Shattered Glass is proud of its kid rocker. Liam, we have a surprise for you tonight. There are some rock legends in the audience and backstage who have asked to do you the honor of jamming with the band.” As Sam called the guest musicians’ names, Milo was pleased to see Liam’s jaw drop. He’d had no idea that Shattered Glass’ music gained such illustrious fans. The second set consisted entirely of tributes to Liam and Milo’s music by some of rock’s superstars. At the end of the second set, the band and the guests playedHappy Birthday as the roadies rolled out a huge four-tier guitar-themed cake on stage. Liam blew the candles out and the audience went wild. After they wheeled the cake backstage, Milo took the microphone and gave a glowing tribute to Liam and his music. Milo didn’t miss how Liam seemed nearly overwhelmed by the praise. The band played a third set, followed by three encores before they could leave the stage. Celebrity guests and the media crowded the backstage area. The security detail formed a human barrier to escort the band and Bart, who got there for the last set, to the waiting limos. Milo was pleased as he noted Liam’s surprise when the chauffeur ushered them into their own elaborate stretch limo. “What about the others?” Liam asked, a bit out of breath. “They’ll meet us back at the Plaza.” “Another party?” Liam asked in resignation.

“Yes, but we won’t be there very long. I want you to see what these things are like so that you know why I never let you attend them before.” “If you are referring to the drugs, booze and women, I’m not as naïve as you think. I’ve been in and out of clubs with the band since the age of twelve. We’ve been on tour. Although you tried your best to keep me away from that shit, it isn’t as if you could lock me in a box. I’ve been offered booze, drugs and women since I turned fifteen. I had no interest. The booze and the drugs interfere with the music. Women were never my thing.” “Who offered you drugs?” Milo asked with barely concealed anger. “Roadies, guys from other bands, even women who wanted to get me into their beds. You couldn’t guard me twenty-four seven. I didn’t want that. I’d rather we didn’t go to the party.” “What do you want?” Milo asked in a husky voice. Milo shook as Liam caressed his cheek and hair in a way that turned Milo’s hard cock into a steel bat. “What if this is all I ever wanted? What if all I want is you?” Milo knew that he must say it. He wanted Liam so much, but he felt an obligation to make sure his baby knew exactly what he asked. “You know as of this morning you no longer have any obligation to me, the band, or even the record company. Anything I signed in your name you can fight in court. I wouldn’t oppose your wishes. You could go to college, even to Julliard, and perfect your craft. You have a genius for music. Someday you might want more for yourself than the life of a singer in a rock band. You don’t have to tie yourself to me out of any kind of misplaced gratitude. I did what I did because I wanted to.” Liam stared into his eyes. “I know what I want. In truth, I’ve known since I was six. You are my Pied Piper.” Liam reached up and traced Milo’s lips and ran his fingers through his beloved’s hair. “I love you, Milo. Only you, for always. Screw the party—I only want you.” Milo lost control. No one could say he hadn’t done his duty by Lily’s son. With his duty to Lily complete, he had loved his baby for too long to refuse him now. Milo took Liam’s hand and turned it up to meet his lips. He kissed his palm and worked his mouth up to the sensitive pulse point in his wrist. There, where the vein traveled straight up to his baby’s heart, he sucked up a mark. Liam reacted, unlacing Milo’s costume in frantic pursuit of his naked skin. Milo raised his hand in a gentle gesture to let Liam know they’d reached the hotel. The driver took them around to the back entrance. From there it was a short underground walk to an area off the hotel’s kitchen where they took the elevator up to the suite. As the doors closed, Milo pushed Liam against the mirrored walls. “I’ve had a hard-on for six years waiting for you, love,” he said as he ground their groins together. “Feel me.” Liam placed wet kisses behind Milo’s ear and nipped at his earlobe. “I want you. I need you.” Milo crushed Liam against him. “I need you too, baby.”

The elevator pinged for their floor. Milo picked Liam up in his arms, kissing him with a passion born of desperation. He fumbled for the key to the suite and, after unlocking the door, he kicked it open, carrying Liam through the suite and straight to a magnificent master bedroom with its huge canopy bed. Milo laid Liam down on the bed gently. A bottle of Dom Perignon sat cooling in a silver bucket at the bedside. The gold brocade duvet cover was strewn with rose petals. With shaking hands, Milo began to undress his lover. Liam responded with a torrent of kisses, his hands moving under Milo’s shirt to get at the golden skin he’d craved for so long. “Slow down, baby,” Milo whispered. “We have all night.” “I’m so afraid that this is all a dream. I’ve pictured this so many times in my mind, I don’t want to wake up and find I’m alone again.” “I promise you, you will never be alone again so long as I live.” Milo pulled off Liam’s silk peasant shirt, kissing every inch of the porcelain white skin he exposed. He sat up, pulled off his own shirt, and shucked his pants, leaving them pooled on the floor. Liam lifted his ass to make it easier for Milo to gain access to his throbbing cock, drenched with pre-cum. Milo gasped as Liam’s soft mouth explored his chest and landed on a flat golden nipple. “Liam!” he gasped as his lover bit the nub, then laved the sting with his tongue. Milo swiftly turned Liam on his back. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m going to shoot. What do you want? My mouth around your sweet cock, or me inside you?” Liam brushed his lips over Milo’s eyelids. “I want it all. Then I want to give it all back to you.” Liam’s words set Milo on fire. He took his beloved’s face between his large hands and kissed him, letting loose the passion he’d walled off for years. Milo followed the line of Liam’s jaw with open-mouthed kisses that burned with the intense desire he’d long denied. His tongue traced Liam’s neck, which tasted of sweat and Liam’s own unique flavor, a blend of the sweet pale skin and spice. His hands moved, caressing Liam’s smooth chest, and stopped at the prominent pink peak that stood up for attention atop the rosy medallion of his nipple. He nipped and laved the tip as he worried its twin with his free hand. Liam responded with a moan of pleasure and whispered encouragement, his responsive body rising off the bed to meet Milo’s roaming lips. Liam stroked Milo’s chest, running his fingers through the dark golden hair as his mouth found the sensitive spot just under Milo’s earlobe. Milo groaned in response. “Easy, lover. We have all night.” “I want you inside me,” Liam begged. “I want to feel you fill me up.” Milo reached over to the bedside table, where a basket of sensuous toys awaited their pleasure. “Have you ever fingered yourself? Reached inside and tried to imagine my cock encased by your tight channel?” “Yes! Oh God, yes,” Liam answered, his voice shaking with emotion. Milo kissed and laved his way down the light trail of hair that led to Liam’s long, slim cock, which strained up to reach over his navel. It leaked copious amounts of pre-cum that dripped down the side of his belly and onto the brocade duvet.

Milo lifted Liam and swept the cover away, placing Liam on the soft cotton sheet below. With one hand, he grabbed Liam’s cock. He fisted it and stroked in a slow, steady rhythm. “Milo, I feel like I’m going to burst.” “Hold it back, baby,” Milo said as he grabbed the base and applied pressure, stroking Liam’s legs, thighs, and ass in gentle circles. Liam responded to his touch by pulling at his hair and encouraging Milo to move his face toward his needy shank. Milo swept his tongue around the uncut head, lapping Liam’s pre-cum until Liam writhed with desire. Milo opened his mouth and swallowed Liam’s cock, moving his mouth and the muscles of his throat, swirling his tongue over the sensitive underside of Liam’s member. Liam’s hand tightened in Milo’s hair, pulling hard at his curls and pressing his face closer to the black pubic hair that outlined his cock and balls. Milo grabbed the bottle of lube from the basket and covered his hand with it. He moved his mouth from Liam’s shaft to his balls and took each one in his mouth in turn, rolling them and tasting their texture with his tongue. He followed a leisurely path across the perineum, licking at Liam’s crack, teasing at the rosette of that virgin passage. He took one finger and worked it inward, carefully probing and stretching the small opening with both his tongue and finger. Liam went wild underneath him. “Milo, please, I need more! I need to feel you inside of me, hard and deep.” “I don’t want to hurt you, baby. We have to take this nice and easy,” Milo whispered as he inserted a second finger. Once Liam’s inner muscles accepted both digits, Milo began to stretch the guardian muscle, scissoring his fingers. “You have to cum inside me. I can’t hold out much longer. I want you, I need to feel you take me. Make me yours, my love. Please fuck me.” Liam’s ass undulated into Milo’s hand in an attempt to get closer. Milo put a third finger into Liam’s hole. Liam cried out in a moan of pleasure-pain that told Milo he was ready. “I’m coming inside of you, Liam. I’m going to bury my fat cock in your tight channel until it vibrates all the way up to your throat. Do you want me there, baby? Do you want to offer up your body, let me pound your ass? I warn you, I’m not a small man. You will be sore tomorrow.” “Yes, make me yours. I can take you. I want you to fuck me. I want to feel it—tonight, tomorrow, and into next week. I want your cock stuffed so far and tight in my ass that your balls slap my cheeks. After that, I want to lick and suck your balls and cock until my throat aches and I can’t breathe. I want to rim your ass and fuck it with my tongue. I want to taste your cum as it slides down my tongue and hits my tonsils, and lick mine from your skin.” Each word Liam said pushed Milo closer to the edge of insanity. He wasn’t going to be able to control himself if Liam didn’t stop. “Take me then,” Milo said and he pushed his long, fat, slick cock into Liam’s opening. You are mine now, baby. Mine.” Liam moved his hands up and down Milo’s back. He thrust up to meet every stroke and gasped, “Milo,

Milo, Milo.” Milo went witless, lost in their hard rhythm and in the velvet softness of Liam’s channel as it gripped his stiff cock. Liam licked and sucked his ear and bit the lobe. He traced a line across Milo’s shoulder, kissing, biting, and licking in a staccato tempo, quick and constant. Liam’s tongue laved his neck, and he took small bites along Milo’s shoulder and he tried to sit up to drive Milo deeper. He nipped and laved until Milo needed to stop him to catch his breath. “Baby, I’m so close.” Milo grabbed Liam’s bobbing cock. One stroke sent them both over the edge into ecstasy. Liam lay back, replete. Milo gathered him into his arms and rolled them so they lay on their sides, stroking his back and burying his face in Liam’s hair. Milo felt a teardrop on his chest. He cupped Liam’s face as he spoke. “You have no idea of how much I need you. You are mine now, forever. I’ll rip to pieces any other man who dares touch you.” “I don’t want any other man. I only want you.” Liam grabbed Milo’s hand and held on tight. Milo kissed the hand that held his before putting it gently on the sheet. “Stay there, baby. I’ll get something to clean us off.” He eased out of bed and went to the master bath with its gold swan faucets and marble fixtures. Yet Milo noticed none of the beauty. To him, it was nothing in comparison to the beauty that lay waiting in the bed. He drew a sink of warm water, prepared a washcloth, and cleaned himself. Then he took the washcloth along with a soft towel back to the bedside and cleaned the residue of cum from Liam’s stomach and ass. He patted the area dry so it wouldn’t chafe and tossed the towel and washcloth to the floor. Lifting the sheet, he climbed back into bed and pulled Liam into his strong arms. “I love you, Milo, more than anything else on this earth.” “I know, baby. Now sleep.”

****

The party in the Presidential Suite began to wind down. Sam left for his own apartment, leaving Rick, Bart, and a few groupies. “I’m fucking worn out,” Rick complained to Bart. “That blonde with the huge tatas has been eyeing me for the last hour, but I don’t think I’mup for it.” “Come on. I have some stuff stashed in my case that will keep you up for it as long as you wish. Do you remember the night we did the X and the coke? I have enough with me to party tonight and for the whole tour.” “That was great stuff, man. I can pay you for it.” “Nah, tonight’s a gift to celebrate working together. The only condition is that I get to watch you and the cunt.”

“Hey, that sounds sexy. An audience might inspire me to do my best work. You could even join in, if you like.” “It’s a deal. I’ll get the coke and the X, you bring on the broad.”

****

Trenton Journal Crime Briefs

The police found Walter Cheever, a prominent local lawyer, dead last night in the parking lot of the Trenton Rail Station. Authorities suspect a mugging because Mr. Cheever’s credit cards were missing. At this time they have no leads…

****

Liam awoke as dawn crept through the windows. Still wrapped in his lover’s strong arms, music ran through his head. In slow motion, he extracted himself from Milo’s embrace. Finding a plush robe at the end of the bed, he slipped it on against the chill of the air conditioning. A library connected to the bedroom suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed a view of Central Park and the Pulitzer Fountain. Liam roamed the room, occasionally picking up one of the leather-bound, gold inlaid volumes and placing it carefully back on the shelf. The rising sun played peek-a-boo amidst the trees and the sparkling water droplets from the fountain. Arms reached around his waist as lips moved over the nape of his neck. He turned to catch his lover’s lips in a kiss. “I woke up and you weren’t there,” Milo whispered. “I had music in my head but lost myself in the view. Is this real? Are we truly together now?” “Come back to bed and I’ll show you how together we are.” “No, let’s go back to bed so that I can showyou how much you’re loved.” Liam took Milo’s hand and they walked back into the suite. The sun shone through the spaces between the heavily draped curtains. Liam dropped Milo’s hand and ran to the windows, opening the suite to the sun. “I want to see you as I touch you. I want to know what makes you moan and what makes you scream.”

He walked toward Milo at a slow, deliberate pace, enticing Milo with a roll of his hips that said come hither. “My heart is pounding, baby. Your need blows me away,” Milo murmured. Liam stood before Milo and then dropped to his knees. Milo was naked, so no barrier existed between Liam and his goal. Liam rubbed his face over Milo’s cock, letting the slight rasp of stubble sensitize the area around his cock and balls. Milo groaned, his knees buckling in response. Using his tongue, Liam lapped the thick ridge circling the diameter of Milo circumcised member. Liam’s senses seemed more acute, amplified by the extent of his need. As he kissed, he tasted. The unique combination of the flavor and the aroma thrust his excitement to a higher level. Standing and pushing Milo onto the bed, he continued his exploration of Milo’s body. He sucked on Milo’s sensitive ears and nibbled at the nubs of the flat mocha coins that hid beneath the light smattering of chest hair. As his mouth worked Milo’s neck and chest, his hand crept to encompass his man’s huge cock, stroking and holding with a butterfly touch. Milo pressed it into his hand. “More, baby,” Milo gasped. “Harder!” Liam complied, his mouth following the trail of hair pointing down through his pecs and navel directly to his cock. Within seconds, Liam’s mouth returned to where he started, laving the edge and the underside to Milo’s delight. Liam’s tongue wrapped his member in sensuous circles. Then, in a sudden move, Liam engulfed his entire cock in the hot, moist heat of his mouth as he bobbed his head up and down in a sultry rhythm. Milo grabbed his hair and started to direct Liam’s mouth. Liam fondled his balls and rolled them between his thumb and forefinger. “Baby, I’m going to cum,” Milo gasped. Liam sucked harder and swallowed the streams of jism that jetted down his throat. As he lapped at Milo’s now-softening penis, he stroked Milo’s thigh and legs with a firm touch that assured his lover he was still present in the moment. Milo broke the silence. “Come up beside me. I want to hold you close to me. Christ, I never want to let you go. If we could, I’d stay in this room next to you forever.” Liam replied, “You are my first lover, my own golden man.” “And I’ll be your last,” Milo added jealously. “Milo, I have never even looked at anyone else with the love I have for you.” “Baby, I have a confession. Although I’ve fucked many girls, I’ve always been more attracted to men, but I saved myself for you. It was always you.” Tears streamed from Liam’s eyes. Milo looked at his lover in concern, “What’s wrong, baby?” Liam put his hands around the back of Milo’s head, leaning his forehead against Milo’s. “Nothing’s

wrong, my love. I’m happy, and your words are so beautiful, they move me to tears.” “Settle in by my side. We have a couple of hours before breakfast arrives, and I want you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to receive your birthday present.” “What more could you give me that I didn’t already receive last night and this morning?” “You’ll see.” Three hours later, a discreet knock sounded at the door. “Room service,” a disembodied voice called from the dining room. “Mr. Stamis, you have a delivery at the front desk. Shall I call to have it sent up?” “Give us thirty minutes,” Milo grunted, half asleep. He looked over at Liam’s tousled raven hair, obstructing the view of his intense violet eyes. “Good morning, beautiful,” Milo said. “Are you ready for breakfast?” “I can’t believe it, but I’m starved. Should we shower first?” “No, honey, we have the hotel robes, and the bath just calls out for two occupants. Let’s enjoy it together after breakfast.” “I have something to show you, Milo.” Liam rose, went to his duffel bag, took out the letter Walt gave him the day before, and handed it to Milo. Milo read the words that erased some of his fears. He looked up at Liam. “She knew.” “Yeah.” Liam sat back down on the bed. Milo pulled him into his arms and they both wept. “She only wanted our happiness, baby.” “She used to tell me that my happiness was all she ever needed.”

****

They sat in the circular nook off the dining room at a table for two. Milo had arranged a lavish buffet for their pleasure. The beauty of the view from the rounded alcove, the elegantly set table, plus the breakfast feast sent Liam into rapture. His ever-present smile bloomed in impish glee. Milo sat down and Liam plopped right on top of his lap. “I’m going to feed you,” Liam said, gaily kissing his lover before he got up to prepare a plate. He swept one of the hand towels over his arm and twisted an imaginary mustache. “Eh, monsieur, we have ze eggs Benedict with a buttery smooth hollandaise, perhaps a side of bacon and a waffle with fruit. And coffee, with one of ze famous mimosas to follow?” Milo laughed so hard at the bad imitation of a French waiter that he almost fell off his seat. “Whatever you wish, baby. We’ll share the plate,” Milo replied, still chuckling.

They’d just finished their last sip of mimosa when they heard the second knock of the morning on their door. Milo got up to answer. “Delivery for Mr. O’Shea. Can you sign here, please?” “Certainly,” Milo said with a grin. “Liam, you have a delivery.” Liam walked in as the concierge and several bellmen brought in six brightly wrapped boxes. The last gentleman in line was the butler in charge of the suite. He handed Liam a large picnic basket with a hand-made bow in Liam’s favorite blue and green. “What is all this?” Liam asked. “Happy birthday, baby,” Milo answered. The basket on Liam’s arm began to sway. “Let me have that. You sit down and start opening your presents.” “Something tells me I should open that basket first.” “Perhaps.” Milo grinned. As Milo handed the basket back to Liam, a tiny pair of paws peeked out from each end, one snow white and the other coal black. Liam flipped back both ends of the basket and saw little pointed ears and noses. “Oh my God, you got me kittens!” “Not just kittens, my love. Persian kittens with a pedigree as long as your arm. They have fancy registered names, but I’ll leave their house names to you.” “They look like a piano keyboard.” Liam laughed. “Ebony and Ivory?” Milo suggested. “Not original. How about Minor and Major? That would be sticking with the music theme.” “Minor and Major it is,” Milo declared. “What the fuck is in the rest of these boxes?” “Well, they needed litter boxes, travel carriers, beds, grooming tools, toys, scratching poles. I gave up and got two of everything,” Milo stated with a straight face. “Milo Stamis, I love you to pieces. Oh, shit, they’re tearing up the wrapping paper. You get Major and I’ll get Minor. If they get lost in this place we’ll never find them. Eh, Milo, we’re going on tour. What do we do about the kitties?” “Why do you think they have so much crap? They’re traveling with us. I booked them a seat.” “You are unbelievable. We are going to own the most spoiled kittens in the cathouse.” “Damn straight,” Milo answered. “And I intend to have the most spoiled lover in the universe.” As Milo grabbed Liam and pulled him in for a kiss, a cat bit his ankle. “That one is yours!”

****

“Wake up, you lazy bastard. The tour bus will be here in an hour!” “Ohhh, Bart, my head,” Rick groaned. “Little too much party last night, eh, stud?” “What happened to the blonde?” “Nothing. I stuffed some cash into her bra, thanked her nicely for her favors, and sent her on her way.” “I don’t think I can make it to the bus. Do you have a little something to get me up?” “I’m going to have to start charging you, buddy. It’s not like I get them for free.” “Whatever. Just keep it between the two of us.” “I have some Dexedrine. Meth works better, but it’s more addictive.” “Give me the Dexedrine, I have enough bad habits without adding meth.” Bart laughed and went to his duffel for the pills.

Chapter Six

“Clearing”

Cloudless days of clear blue skies Tears of joy are in my eyes Watching you laugh and sing Knowing you’re my everything I want you

Skies are grey and dark with rain Still my love I can’t complain My body sings when you’re with me What a wonder life can be I need you You don’t have to understand Or say it back at my command All I want is you my dear Beside me here from each year to year I love you.

—Love Songs, Shattered Glass, 2000

****

“I can’t believe we’re finally home,” Liam said as he released Minor and Major from their carriers. “How do you think our jet-setting cats will react to being housebound for the next six months?” “I don’t know, baby, but you better run because I’m going to christen every room in this fucking house,” Milo said as he slapped Liam’s jeans-clad ass. “Let them find their own recreation.” Liam ran up the stairs and Milo followed. The oversized four-poster bed in the master suite, covered in a thick down comforter made from blue Egyptian cotton, stood ready to welcome them home for the first time in six months. The band played sixty tour dates and spent the time in between either traveling by plane or tour bus. They found it grueling, but it was finally over. Liam figured that they had at least a couple of weeks before they needed to start work on the new album. It was early spring, and Milo spent the latter part of the tour calling landscapers and reading seed catalogs. By the time Milo made it up the stairs, Liam was already undressed, lying amid the pillows, naked and waiting. It didn’t take more than two minutes for Milo to join him. “You tired, love?” Milo asked. “No, horny. So get your beautiful bare ass over here to take care of business,” Liam replied. “Demanding little bastard, aren’t you?”

“And you love every minute of it.” Milo slid under the sheets and pulled Liam close. “I missed this,” Liam said, “having you to myself. On the road you were so busy. It seemed we had a stopwatch regulating our time together. Now that Sam has passed the bar and opened his agency, it won’t be that bad anymore, will it?” “I can’t say. I still have to take care of the day-to-day problems on tour and in the studio.” “But we’ll have more time together, won’t we?” “We’ll try. Come here. I want to touch you. You are not the only one who missed making love at leisure.” Milo traced his hand down the curve from Liam’s chest to his ass. “I love the texture of your skin, the way your nipples nub under your shirt whenever I’m near you.” Milo lowered his head and sucked first one, then the other. “Oh no you don’t. Not this time,” Liam protested. “This time, I’m in charge.” In a move he knew would drive his lover wild, he ran his tongue over the shell of Milo’s ear and worried his teeth over the lobe. Continuing down his jaw line, he placed kisses and occasional sharp nips along Milo’s collarbone, then buried his face in the golden hair across his pectorals. Laving the division between Milo’s ribs, he tongue-washed the area from his chest to his navel. “I love the way you smell and taste, Milo. When we still lived in Hazlet, I used to sneak your sweaty T-shirts and sleep with them pressed up against my face.” Liam’s hands moved along with his mouth, soothing, stroking, pinching and petting Milo’s golden skin. He reached down and cupped Milo’s balls, moving his head to rub against Milo’s long hard cock, already dripping with pre-cum. “I’m going to make you feel so good, my love. I’m going to love you so hard you’ll never be free of me.” Liam fisted Milo’s cock and licked the pre-cum from its head. He began to stroke it, timing the strokes in concert with his tongue lapping the sensitive underside. Milo moved beneath him. “More, baby, please,” he moaned. Liam moved his head and began to take the whole of Milo’s shaft into his mouth. Bobbing his head up and down, he murmured, “I’m going to suck you so hard you’re going to think I’m a Hoover.” “Fuck, your mouth is so hot. It’s not going to take long. Will you swallow it all for me? Lick me clean. Do it, baby. Claim me with your mouth.” Liam rolled Milo’s balls in his hands. “Cum for me, love, show me how much I please you.” Liam wet his finger and began to worry at Milo’s hole. “I’m gonna—” Milo shot his jism straight into Liam waiting mouth and Liam sucked up every drop. He cleaned around Milo’s cock and then rested his head on his belly.

“Come up here, Liam. Let me take care of you.” “No need darling, I came when you did.” “From sucking me off?” “From sucking you off,” he answered, very pleased with himself. At that moment the kittens, having found their way into the bedroom, jumped up on the bed. “Come up here, baby. I think it’s nap time for a party of four.”

****

Liam felt tiny needles sticking into his bare chest. Attempting to turn and go back to sleep, he felt a light tap on his head, followed by more pinpricks. Opening one eye, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. The clock read seven a.m., feeding time. Groaning, he carefully sat up and grabbed the kittens while attempting to extract himself from the tangle of sheet and the weight of Milo’s leg on his hip. The housekeeper had the day off, and the cats didn’t care that their masters spent most of the night matching music to lyrics. He knew Milo was exhausted. He slowly moved out from under the bedding and padded down to the kitchen, attempting to walk with two cats twirling around his ankles. “Okay, guys, I get it. Stop your yowling before you wake Milo up.” Reaching the kitchen without tripping over a cat or stepping on a paw, he grabbed the bag of dry food and poured some into one of the four sets of cat dishes before filling a bowl with fresh water. Grabbing a bag of Kona beans, he pulled the grinder from the cabinet and began the process of making fresh coffee. The past few weeks had been heavenly at home, but work was another matter. He spent yesterday in hell. They went over the new material with Rick and Bart. Bart said something snide about everything Liam wrote. The bastard even made fun of his T-shirt. Bart always managed to be nasty to him when they were alone, but made his more outrageous comments in front of the band and made it look like he teased Liam. Shit, Milo never cares what I wear. He prefers me naked.Liam got a little pissed that Milo hadn’t spoke up for him, but he got over it soon enough when Milo promised that they would spend all day together today. He rummaged in the fridge and found some sausage and a carton of eggs. He started to make his lover breakfast. A half hour later, he set everything out on a tray and was headed up the stairs when the phone rang. Milo picked it up. Damn, now he wouldn’t be able to wake up his love with food and kisses. Slipping into the bedroom, he stood quietly while Milo spoke on the phone.

****

“Morning, Milo.” “It’s a little early for you, Bart. What do you want?” “I got you a spot on Letterman today. Someone canceled, and I know the talent coordinator.” “Doesn’t Sam usually take care of this?” “Yeah, but this guy and I are fuck buddies, so when the opening came up, he called me.” “It is a great opportunity for the band. Have you called Rick? Liam’s right here.” “They don’t want the band, Milo. They want you.” “I made plans for today.” “Has Liam put a collar and leash on you now?” Bart laughed. Milo bristled. “No, you know it isn’t like that. Stop being such a bitch.” “I’m not half as bitchy as the diva you live with. I really like him, but sometimes it’s like walking on eggshells, being around him. Come on, I gotta let this guy know quick.” “What time?” “You have to be in Manhattan by two. I’ll pick you up and introduce you to Tom, my contact. It’s good press for the band.” “All right, I’ll tell him.” Milo hung up the phone and turned to see Liam standing at the foot of the bed, holding a tray. “I thought I smelled fresh coffee, baby, and you made me breakfast.” Milo smiled. “Who called?” “No good morning kiss?” “Milo, who was that on the phone?” “Bart.” “Damn it, I knew it was that slime bucket before I asked. What did he want?” “Now, Liam, don’t get all riled. He got me a gig on Letterman today.” “What time do we have to go?” “They only want one of us and they asked for me. Bart arranged it with a buddy. It will be good for the

band.” “You promised me we would have today together.” “Don’t be that way. A shot at Letterman doesn’t come around very often.” “Yeah, I bet. Here’s your breakfast.” Liam put down the tray and stomped out of the room. Milo put the tray aside, put on a pair of pants, and followed Liam downstairs. He found Liam sitting at the kitchen table, tears streaking his face. He knelt beside the chair and put his arms around Liam. “Be reasonable, hon. The new album won’t be out for another four months. We need to keep our name in the news.” “Milo, you don’t understand. Bart hates me. Every chance he gets he has something nasty to say. He did this deliberately because he knew you and I planned to spend today together.” With growing impatience, Milo stood. “What, you think someone canceled out on Letterman just so Bart could piss you off? Get real, Liam. You’re paranoid about Bart. He just teases you. I don’t have to be there until two. It’s only seven thirty. We could go down to the antique center in Red Bank and find a bench for the garden.” “I could go with you to Letterman.” “Unfortunately, they only wanted me. If you come, it could put them on the spot and we might not get another invitation.” Milo kissed him gently. “All right, whatever you say. I’m going to get dressed.” Liam tried his best not to show his disappointment the rest of the day but it was difficult and their conversation became more strained as time progressed. Milo was still getting dressed when Bart pulled up. He knocked once and let himself into the house as Liam came down the stairs. “Baby pouting because Daddy has to work?” “Shut the fuck up. I’m getting tired of this.” “Get as tired as you want, you little freak. By the time I’m through, he won’t want to wipe the floor with you, and that is a promise.” “I’m going to tell Milo what you said. I write the music for this band. You are just the fucking drummer. Replaceable.” “But everyone likes me. You come off like a whiny child. Besides, why would Milo believe you? He actually thinks I like you, you little cunt.” “He’ll believe me because he loves me.” Liam pushed past him. “We’ll see,” Bart whispered as he continued his walk to the kitchen. Liam spent the rest of the afternoon moping around the house with no idea what to do. Milo would not

even consider his claim that Bart was out to get him, and he didn’t know how to prove his case.

****

Rick rang the doorbell at four and caught Liam watching the early news in the media room. “Hi, come on in. I could use the company,” Liam said when he answered the door. “I won’t stay long. I need a favor.” “What?” “I-I have a date tonight and I’m short on cash.” “How much do you need?” “I can only get two hundred from the ATM. I want to impress this one. Do you have five bills?” “Yeah, sure. But that’s all the cash Milo lets me keep in the house. You seem to be going through a lot of cash lately.” “What can I tell you? Keeping up my image is important. People expect a rock star to throw money around. He only lets you keep five bills? What a control freak. Will you get in trouble if you give it to me?” “No. I don’t have many expenses and he’ll give me more at the end of the week. I think I put it in the drawer upstairs.” Rick tried to control his shakes while Liam was in the room. He could barely hold it together. That son of a bitch, Bart, promised to fix him up and then left him high and dry. Now he had to go out and look for a fix himself. He knew he had to stop using. He was an addict, knew he needed help. Rick had spent the winter at the end of a figurative chain connected to Bart’s wrist. If Milo found out he was using, he’d kick him out of the band. The band was his life. Milo and Liam could make it on their own without him and Bart. He had to keep that in mind. If he told Sam, Sam would blow the whistle on both of them. He couldn’t afford to squeal. He couldn’t break up the band.

****

Milo hit the door at midnight. He did the show and, still pissed over Liam’s attitude that morning, went out for a few drinks with Bart. He found Liam asleep on the couch. “Baby, come to bed. It’s late.” “I tried to wait up for you. I’m sorry I was such an asswipe.”

“Yeah, but you’re my asswipe.” “You’ve been drinking.” “Don’t start, baby. I just want to go to bed and fuck the life out of you.” “Do you love me, Milo?” “You’re mine, always.” Milo kissed Liam on the forehead, grabbed his hand, and pulled him up the stairs.

****

The band practiced at the larger Red Bank Studio. “Damn it, Rick, get it right this time,” Milo fumed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You did better than this when you first picked up a guitar. We’ll be out on the road in a week. Do you want to crash and burn during a concert?” “I’ve had it for tonight,” Bart said. “My fingers are numb. I’m barely keeping the beat, and the kid’s voice is getting hoarse. Let’s call it a night. Come on, let the kid go home for some tea and lemon. I’ll take you out for a drink.” “He’s right,” Rick chimed in. “We’re all tired. The new stuff is tricky, it’s got all these fancy riffs and shit. We’re not the London Symphony.” “Milo,” Liam pleaded, “maybe you should come home and rest. We can work out the bugs at the small studio at home. We both could use some tea and downtime.” “Just go home, baby. Bart and I will work a bit on the music, and I’ll be along in an hour or two.” “I wrote the fucking music. Shouldn’t I be working on it with you?” “Look, we’re lovers, not fucking Siamese twins. I told you, I’ll be home later.” Liam scowled. “All right. Fine.” Liam walked away from the keyboard. Milo, Bart, and Rick headed for the exit, leaving Liam to go home by himself—again. Danny Hobbs was adjusting the wiring for the new soundboards when Liam wandered over, on the verge of tears. “I don’t know what’s wrong with us lately. Rick is playing like a fucking novice. Milo is always in a temper. Every time I try to approach him to find out what’s wrong, he dismisses me or wants to fuck.” Liam sat on the floor with his head between his knees. “How long has it been since you ate a proper meal, kid? I haven’t seen you with anything but Coke for a week.” “My stomach’s been upset. It always acts up when I’m upset.”

“Come on. I’ll take you out for pancakes.” “Really? It would be nice to have some company for a change.” “Yeah, we’ll go over to the diner. Nora went to bingo, and her mom is watching Jimmy. I’ve got an hour or two before I have to hightail it back home. Besides, I know something I think you better tell Milo.” They hopped into Danny’s old Honda and drove over to a diner on the highway. The waitress gave them menus, and they settled into a back booth out of sight of the rest of the late night crowd. “Order the pancakes. They’ll line your stomach,” Danny suggested. “What is going on?” Liam asked, pulling the utensils out of the folded napkin. “Kid, Rick has a drug habit. An expensive one, if I’m not mistaken. Has he been borrowing money?” Liam shrugged. “Well, yeah, but Rick’s never been good with cash.” “His cash is going up his nose, and Bart’s doing the dealing.” “How do you know?” “I recognize the signs. I used to be a junkie before Nora straightened me out.” “You, a junkie? I can’t conceive of that.” “It’s true. I was young, vulnerable, and stupid, and became addicted almost accidentally. I went from wanting to needing in what seemed like a New York minute. So, I know the signs. That boy is using, big time.” “Have you seen him using drugs?” “Couple of times. He doesn’t pay much attention to anyone but Milo and Sam, and he doesn’t think you know enough to notice. Just stay clear of being alone with Rick or Bart. Bart means you harm.” “I know that. I’ve tried to tell Milo, but he won’t listen.” “I’d tell him myself, only I need this job.” The waitress came and set down their plates. They ate mostly in silence. “You know,” Danny said, “you could tell Sam.” “I never even see Sam.” “Call him,” Danny insisted. “I know what drugs can do to a band, and that bastard is dealing to the roadies, too.” “Maybe I’ll confront Rick first. Maybe he’ll listen to me.” “Suit yourself. But most addicts don’t listen till they hit the gutter. Unless they have a Nora in their corner.”

“I’ll get the check.” “No, kid, this time is on me.” Danny drove Liam back to his car at the studio. The ride was quiet. Liam had a lot to think about.

****

Rick parted company with the other men outside. Milo and Bart drove to a gin mill in Belmar. Dark and quiet, it catered to a local crowd, and nobody bothered them when they sat at the end of the bar. Bart ordered two whiskeys, neat, with beer chasers. “The kid looks like he’s getting antsy,” Bart said. “Aren’t you keeping him busy?” “Mind your own fucking business. I keep him plenty busy. He doesn’t understand how much work it is trying to keep it all together.” “I told you I’d help you out, man. You can’t do it all yourself. You’re not Superman. Liam’s just a kid, and Rick’s a fucking airhead. I thought Sam was supposed to be doing most of this now that he’s opened the agency.” “Sam’s busy trying to establish himself. Once he gets it together, he’ll handle it.” “The kid is losing weight and has circles under his eyes. Is he using?” “Of course not.” Bart held up his hand against Milo’s show of temper, “Just saying. He’s young and kids like to experiment. What does he do when you’re not around?” “I don’t know. He keeps himself busy.” “Well, if I had a lover that young, I’d keep an eye out. You don’t know who he’s keeping busy with.” “Enough. Liam’s not like that. He’s mine and he knows it.” “Okay, buddy, ’nuff said. It’s your life.” “I’ve had enough. I’m going home.” “Yeah, he’ll be waiting for you, I’m sure.” Bart let him go.Another seed sown. He was a patient man, and knew it would bear fruit soon enough.

****

Milo didn’t see Liam’s car in the driveway when Milo pulled up to the house. Shit, what if Bart knows something I don’t? He opened the door and called Liam’s name. The cats scampered down the stairs at the sound of his voice, but no Liam. He poured himself another drink and sat down on the couch to wait. An hour later, he heard Liam’s car door slam. He walked in the door and looked at Milo. “You’re home.” “Yeah. Where did you go?” Milo asked in a quiet voice. “I went to the diner and had pancakes with Danny.” “Who is Danny?” “Danny the roadie, for Christ’s sake. He’s worked for us for six years, and you don’t even know who he is?” “It seems like you know him well enough for both of us.” “What are you saying?” “I’m saying you better not be fucking around.” “Milo, you are out with Bart at least three nights a week. I got hungry. We had a meal at the diner. He dropped me off at the studio and I rode around for a while.” “I don’t like lies, baby.” “I’m not fucking lying. You took off with Bart just as you always do, and told me to go home like a good little boy. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m almost twenty-one and not a boy anymore. Since when are pancakes a crime? On top of that, you’re stinking drunk. With all the time you spend with Bart, I should be the one questioning you.” Milo grabbed hold of Liam’s arm and pulled him up the stairs. “You are mine, Liam, and don’t you forget it. I want to know where you go and with whom, and I’m going to fuck that bubble ass of yours so hard that you won’t forget you belong to me in the future.” Liam jerked his arm free. “Is that all I am to you? A fuck toy to take out when you’re horny? I’m a human being, same as you. Everything in this relationship can’t go your way all the time.” “What the fuck do you mean by that, you little bastard? I take care of everything around here. All the fuck you have to do is sit down and write the goddamned music.” “It’s not like you give me the opportunity to do anything else. I just sit on the shelf until it’s time to

perform and then climb back up until you decide you want to get laid. Is that all we have together? Are you so piss drunk that you can’t see I’d do anything for you?” Liam was crying, yet he turned around to face Milo and said, “Fine, take what you want, you will anyway.” Milo pushed him down on the bed and ripped off Liam’s jeans and shirt. He opened his fly and took out his hard cock. “This is the only one of these you are ever going to see, baby.” He rolled Liam over onto his stomach and with only a swipe of lube on his cock, began to fuck Liam hard. He didn’t even notice Liam’s tears until after he shot. “Oh my God, baby, I’m so sorry. The thought of you with someone else put me in a red haze. Please forgive me. I need you so much. I can’t lose you. Please look at me!” Milo pulled at Liam frantically. “Liam, look at me, please baby.” Milo collapsed on the bed. Liam was sore, but he turned to face his lover, “I swear to you on Lily’s grave, I will never cheat. It’s only you, Milo. Always you.” Milo held Liam in his arms, crying silently. Liam kissed his ear and Milo slipped away, the heat of his temper now quiet. He undressed and went into the bathroom. When he returned, he brought a warm washcloth. He gently cleaned Liam’s genitals and ass, kissing his back and murmuring apologies. “Come to bed. Just hold me,” Liam said and he turned out the light.

****

After a sleepless night, Milo got out of bed at dawn. He went down to the study and called Sam. “Hello, Milo.” “How did you know it was me?” “Caller ID. Besides, who else would call me at five thirty in the morning?” “I need to talk. About Liam.” “What about Liam? It must be serious because I can hear you pacing.” “We had an argument last night.” “Couples argue.” “I had a major shit fit. I can’t keep doing this, and I don’t know how to stop.” “Doing what?” “I left him to go out for a drink with Bart. When I came home, I didn’t see his car in the driveway—”

“And you went ballistic.” “Yeah. He went out for pancakes with one of the roadies and all I could see was him humping someone else.” Milo was so ashamed of himself he couldn’t even bring himself to tell Sam what he did to Liam. “Why didn’t you take him with you?” “Rehearsal went badly. When Bart suggested the drink, I thought it would be a good idea. I went. Liam got pissed.” “Why didn’t you ask him to go with you?” Sam repeated. “You know Liam can’t stand Bart. Besides, he’s not twenty-one yet.” “Milo, he’s been in and out of bars and clubs since the age of twelve. They wouldn’t have thrown him out if he ordered a Coke. What’s the real reason? This is me you’re talking to, remember?” “I can’t control myself around him. When he’s near me, I want to hold him, put my arms around him, claim him as mine and I can’t.” “Milo, we’ve had this discussion before. He’s no longer jailbait. What’s wrong with being with the guy you love?” “Everyone will know. It wouldn’t be good for the band.” “Milo, Elton John is openly gay and it hasn’t affected his record sales. For Christ’s sake, he does work for Disney. It’s not the band, Milo, it’s you. You have been fighting what you are for years for no good reason. Your true friends already know. The roadies know. There are always rumors in the media. Liam is obviously gay. We spent years trying to tone it down because of where we were raised, but we’re not there anymore. The entertainment industry is a big tent, and no one is going to throw you out because you and Liam are lovers. This is your macho bullshit talking.” “He says I put him on a shelf and just take him out to perform or fuck and then I lock him away again.” “Do you? Ask yourself that question and answer it honestly for a change.” “I don’t know.” Milo checked the door to make sure he was still alone. “Milo, have you ever taken him out dancing? Do you go to dinner, or a movie?” “I haven’t got a lot of time with the band—” “Cut the crap. I played in and managed that band for years, and yet I had time to finish law school. I only asked for a break to study for the bar. I passed the bar three years ago, opened the firm, and yet even though Shattered Glass is one of my most important clients, you won’t let me do my job. You insist on handling everything yourself. What the fuck are you really hiding from?” “I think I’m afraid to lose him. He’s still so young. I’m scared he’s going to go out and find someone else.”

“If you keep pushing him away, it will only happen faster. Fuck, you need to get the hell out of the closet. Your father’s dead, he can’t do you any damage. If you still have issues with that, see a counselor. You need to do something or you will push everything and everyone you love so far away from you that you’ll never get them back.” “I’ll think about it.” “You better do more than think.” Milo sat in the study and stared at the wall. Was Sam right, could it be him? But Bart had toured with a few other bands and knew how much all of this took out of a man. He said Liam just didn’t understand how much it took to keep it all together. Milo didn’t know, and his ignorance of his own feelings had caused a rift between not only himself and Liam, but between him, Sam and Rick. He wished it could be simple. All he wanted to do was love and take care of his baby in peace. Milo went back upstairs to the bedroom. Liam lay on his stomach, with the cats sleeping on the pillow above his head. Milo looked at him longingly. He had to stop running from his heart. He crossed the bare wood floor and sat on the edge of the bed. He was determined to make it up to him somehow. Lifting the covers, he slid in beside him. “Baby,” he whispered as he began to stroke his back. “Baby, I need to talk to you.” “You’re here. I dreamed that you left.” “No, love, I’m right here beside you. Come into my arms, and let me love you.” “You’re not mad at me anymore?” “No, I’m mad at myself for being an unreasonable, jealous prick.” Liam rolled over on his side and the sheet slipped down below his waist. Milo kept stroking his skin. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Liam said. “I swear. I just needed to talk to someone. I know you need to run the band. I don’t want to be another burden. I’m so lonely sometimes. Danny’s just a friend. He’s as het as you can get. I didn’t want to spend the evening feeling sorry for myself.” “You’re right. I haven’t been putting the time into our relationship that you deserve. I have been taking you for granted. I promise, I’ll try and do better. You are still so young. The thought of you finding someone else makes me crazy.” “I keep telling you, you are it for me. There will never, ever, be anyone else. If you believe nothing else I tell you, believe that.” “I’ll try, baby.” Milo’s hands moved down Liam’s torso, stroking him into arousal. He tried to be as gentle this morning as he was rough the previous evening. He worshipped Liam’s body with his mouth, moving down his chest to his now blatant erection. Placing kisses on Liam’s long, slender shaft, he wrapped his mouth around the mushroomed head and began to suck with a soft motion that caressed his lover’s organ in his warm mouth. He fondled Liam’s

balls, licked, and sucked around the head, deliberately avoiding his lover’s ass because he thought Liam would still be sore from his rough treatment of last night. Liam moaned, “Please, love, more.” Milo worried at the tip of Liam’s erection with his teeth, building up the tension gradually, making his lover feel every swipe of his mouth and tongue. “Milo, I’m gonna—” Liam spurted into Milo’s mouth. Milo swallowed all his lover had to give him. “Come up here, love,” Liam begged. “I want to make you feel good, too.” “No, baby, this time was just for you. Let’s get a shower and go out for breakfast. Then we can shop for a bench for the garden. I haven’t spent any time there either, and I want to watch you play the guitar as I tend the flowers. I want to do so many things, baby, but I only want to do them with you.”

Chapter Seven

“Recycling (Into the Fire)”

Out there is no hope for me My love, he listens to the liar The gods themselves hear not my plea They stake my heart and set the fire The truth he doesn’t wish to see So, I’m bound onto the pyre A martyr to love By his decree A martyr to love By his decree

—Just Liam, Liam O’Shea

****

Playing the Meadowlands in New Jersey always felt like coming home for Liam. Shattered Glass made a tradition of beginning a tour in Madison Square Garden and ending at home in New Jersey. Regardless, the backstage of any arena or stadium, large or small, usually followed the same design. They placed the dressing and hospitality rooms underground, made the walls of cinder block, and installed few amenities. They’d just flown in from London the night before and everyone dragged ass from jet lag. The tour had been hellish. Rick got it wrong more times than right, and Bart took every chance he could to mess with Liam’s head. However, Milo acted attentive throughout the whole tour, and Liam finally began to see why touring was more grueling for him than for the rest of the band. The entourage now consisted of one hundred and thirty people—equipment specialists, sound engineers, setup and breakdown crews, special effects, lighting, makeup. All of these people depended on Shattered Glass for their livelihood. Sam attended half of the dates, but he had his office to run and other clients, so most of the work fell on control-freak Milo’s shoulders because he refused to hire a manager. Milo was called away to handle yet another crises. Liam found himself alone in the dressing room and strumming his guitar. He looked around and realized one of the assistants forgot to deliver the usual case of water for use onstage and off. Rather than bother Milo with such a small detail, Liam went looking for someone to tell. He wandered into Rick’s dressing room to see if he and Bart needed anything. “Rick, they forgot to deliver the—” Liam fell silent. He stared down at the proof of what Danny told him. Strewn across the table he saw drug paraphernalia and coke lines laid out on a mirror. “Shit, how long have you been snorting? You know how Milo feels about drugs in the band.” “Milo’s not my fucking father, kid. Unlike you, I’m a big boy and I can do as I please.” “But you’ve been screwing up the sets for the whole tour. You are damaging the band. I have to tell Milo and Sam. We need to get you some help.” Bart strode in from the anteroom. “Open your mouth, kid, and you’re the one who is going to need help. If you do something to break up this band, Milo will shed you like a snake sheds skin. You’re not the only singer in rock and roll. Nor are you the only singer who can fuck like a bunny. I’d satisfy him easily. You just cling on like the helpless and pitiful little rabbit you are.” “Look, I don’t give a flying fuck what you think of me, but Rick is family. I’m not going to let you fuck with my family.” “We’ll see who fucks with who, kid.” Liam stalked out, found the water, and searched for Milo. He finally found him with only fifteen minutes

to curtain. “Milo, I need to talk to you.” “Baby, go get your costume on. We’ll talk later.” The band assembled on the stage. The arena loomed pitch black. The lights came up first red, then blue, the spotlight illuminated the stage, and the band began the set with their signature upbeat tune,Living on the Wild Side . Twenty-thousand fans went wild. The lights pulsed to the beat of the music. A spot glared on Milo and Liam. They played the intro chords and started to sing.

We’re living on the wild side Rowing against the incoming tide We know that life ain’t fair Yet we’re going to make it there Rowing out toward the sun Inviting you all to come For a ride to the sky When the day is done

Milo and Liam shared the microphone, their faces close enough to touch, their voices blending and soaring out into the arena. They did two sets, finishing withLover’s Suite . The whole stadium rose to their feet. The electricity between Milo and Liam ignited the arena. Sweat poured into their eyes and the backs of their shirts lay plastered to their skin. Hidden cell phones and cameras came out of pockets and purses to take pictures of their idols on stage. The special effects crew set off smoke made from dry ice as the band disappeared into the mist for intermission. Milo grabbed Liam and drew him into a hug as soon as they made it into the wings. “Baby, I am so ready for home and our own bed. I’m sorry we didn’t bring the cats this time, I miss the little buggers. But tonight, I’m locking the door so we can sleep in and tomorrow we can read the Sunday papers in bed, just like normal folk. What did you need to tell me earlier?” “Nothing that can’t wait, love. You look exhausted.” Liam kissed his lover’s face and nibbled on his ear as he toweled his hair. “You know that drives me nuts, baby. Stop. I can’t go back on stage with a boner.” “Five minutes,” the stage manager called. “Let’s go and rock them out of their seats,” Milo said.

They did the last set and three encores.Thank God the crew gets to pack up , Liam thought. Security lined the exit, and they escaped into the open door of the limousine at the backstage entrance. His watch read twelve thirty-two. “Happy birthday, baby,” Milo whispered as he leaned on Liam’s shoulder and fell fast asleep.

****

After the show, Rick panicked. “Bart, he’s going to tell Milo and I’ll be screwed.” “Don’t be stupid. I won’t let that happen. Look, if the kid rats, I’m in deep shit for giving you the junk. I have an idea. Just go along with what I say and I’ll give you your stuff gratis for the next month or two.” “Is it going to hurt them?” “Nah, nothing but the little bastard’s pride. He’ll have to spend so much time wiggling out of this one that he won’t have time to put his fucking nose in our business.” They left the dressing room and walked past security. Bart spotted a stringer forSizzle , one of the supermarket rags. “Want an exclusive?” The kid answered, “Sure thing.” “Come on into the limo. Where you going?” “Manhattan.” “We’ll give you a ride.” They settled in and as the car zoomed off, Bart said, “I’m going to give you some real dirt, but all you can say is that it came from a source close to the band, okay?” “Let me get my pad.” “You know this last tour didn’t go too well.” “Yeah, everyone was talking.” “Well, you are going to be the only reporter who knows why, and you are going to print it up and have it in the morning papers.” “That’s going to be a little difficult, Mr. Hedge.” “Difficult, but not impossible, especially if the story comes with a bit of grease.” “Are you talking about a bribe, Mr. Hedge?”

“No, just a bit of extra incentive.Sizzle doesn’t pay you enough to refuse this, and it’ll get picked up by all of the major dailies.” “Okay, I’ll bite.” “Liam O’Shea hasn’t had his head in the music this whole tour because he fucked half the roadies. The kid is a faggot, on top of which he’s high on coke most of the time.” “I’m not that stupid, Mr. Hedge. Hasn’t he got a thing going on with Milo? Wouldn’t Milo see it?” “Milo raised the kid. They aren’t lovers, but Milo can’t see what’s right in front of him. Rick and I feel we owe it to the band to open Milo’s eyes so he can straighten the kid out. It’s for his own good.” Just the other side of the Lincoln Tunnel, the reporter said, “Look, let me out here. If you want this to make the morning papers, I’ve got calls to make.” “Here kid, take five hundred. You’re doing Shattered Glass a favor, and we don’t forget our friends.” The kid swung open the limo door and headed down the street. “That should do it, my friend,” Bart said to Rick. “No worries.” “I don’t know. Milo is a pretty jealous guy.” “He won’t believe it, coming from a rag likeSizzle , but it will water a seed and make our lives easier.”

****

Despite the late night, Milo got up early the next morning. He had plans for Liam’s twenty-first birthday. He went to the front steps and gathered the newspapers. They usually got theAsbury ParkPress and the New York Times . Today he found a copy ofSizzle on the step. He made coffee and took it up on a tray to the bedroom. Later, they would go out to brunch and he would order champagne in celebration. He found Liam awake and sitting up in bed playing with the cats. “They missed us, Milo,” Liam said as he teased Major with a length of leather shoelace. Minor sat regally on a pillow, busily washing his paws. “I have coffee and the papers, baby. Happy birthday!” Milo kissed Liam fully on the mouth and handed him a smal box, wrapped in Tiffany blue with a white bow. “Can I open it now, love?” “Of course.” Liam eagerly removed the ribbon and, careful not to rip the paper, uncovered the box. Inside lay a heavy gold ring embedded with diamonds in the initials M&L. The inscription inside it readAlways Mine . Liam threw his arms around Milo in joy, almost upsetting the coffee cups.

“Come on, baby, let’s relax and read the papers,” Milo said. “Then I’m taking you out for an elegant brunch.” “We’re going out?” “Yes, I’m taking you out to the fanciest restaurant in town. Maybe tonight we’ll go dancing.” “You always make me feel so special.” “That’s because you are my light, my sun in the sky. Now I want to read the papers before the cats decide to nest.” “What’s this?” Liam picked one out of the pile. “We don’t getSizzle . It’s a gossip rag.” “I found it on the step. And I’ve seen you reading it in the supermarket checkout line.” “Yeah, but how did it wind up on our step?” “Don’t know, don’t care. Just settle down for a little while.” Liam obediently settled into the curve of Milo’s arm and his curiosity got the better of him. He picked up Sizzle and started to read to the sound of his lover’s laughter. It took only a few minutes before Liam’s face turned grey. He bolted for the bathroom to throw up with Milo on his heels. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Milo asked. Liam handed Milo the paper. “Look at the pullout page.” Milo wiped Liam’s mouth, and sat him down on the toilet seat before opening the paper. Placed in the centerfold was full page picture of an exuberant Liam sometime during the last concert tour.

Liam O’Shea, lead singer of Shattered Glass, is gay. Sources close to the band claim that Liam is heavy into cocaine and sex. “He’s screwed nearly everyone in the road crew and is dealing to anyone who will buy...

Milo’s face turned to stone as Liam sobbed. “Who would say such things about me? You know where I am every single minute. I’m either in a venue, a hotel room, or at a rehearsal. When would I have had the time?” Liam looked into Milo’s eyes, begging him to believe him. “This was Bart. I caught him giving coke to Rick last night and I threatened to tell you. He warned me to keep my mouth shut. This is his revenge.” Milo, still stone-faced, replied in a tone that dripped icicles. “Bart wouldn’t do this. It would put the band at risk. Neither would Rick.” “Rick and Bart did drugs last night. I saw them. Remember, I tried to talk to you before the concert. I

wanted to tell you last night, but you fell asleep. I thought it could wait until this morning.” “Look, I know you aren’t doing drugs. I suspected Rick might be this tour, but you better be a bit more careful who you talk to among the roadies. Some of them take it the wrong way. We’ve been trying to gloss over the fact that you’re gay for years. However you may act, they don’t have proof. I’ve got to call Sam.” Milo removed himself from the bed, all the plans for a Sunday with his lover abandoned in the face of this new crisis. “Sam?” Milo paced the floor holding the phone to his ear. “I was just about to call you,” “Sizzle, right?” Milo asked through clenched teeth. “Yeah. I don’t think Liam’s using, but I’m positive Rick is doing something,” Sam replied, sounding resigned. “What about the other stuff?” “He isn’t cheating on you, you damn fool.” “How do you know that?” Milo snapped. “He never looks at anyone but you.” “Right. I’m going to do some snooping around here today.” “Don’t let your hot head screw up your relationship. The kid has never lied to you.” “Do I have one? A relationship, that is?” Sam yelled something back at him. Milo hung up. From the steps, Milo saw that Liam lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Liam, I have to go to see Sam in New York and do some damage control. You okay with that?” Liam looked at his lover, his eyes red and tear tracks down his face. “You believe it, don’t you? You don’t trust me at all.” “I told you, I have to see Sam. I’ll be back later.” Liam closed his eyes. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Milo heard him whisper as he strode out of the room. Milo hoped he didn’t, because it would be the death knell to all of their dreams.

****

“Rick, if this is going to work, you have to go over there and do what I say.” “I don’t know, this is pretty radical. Isn’t it bad enough we publicly accused him of cheating on Milo when we both know that he never would?” “Don’t you ever want the respect you deserve? As long as that kid hangs around, you’ll never get any. Look, you want the free junk or not? You’re in this up to your eyeballs already. Plant the bag where Milo will find it. I’ll take care of the rest.” Rick left Bart’s and drove up to the house. He didn’t even ring the bell. Milo’s car was gone. If Liam was upset, he wasn’t too far from a bathroom. He went right up to the master suite. He heard the gagging from the door. “Liam, it’s Rick.” “Haven’t you done enough?” “I’m going to get you some soda and crackers.” Rick hustled down to the kitchen and grabbed a can of Coke and a box of Saltines. When he returned he found Liam sitting on the edge of the bed, sweating profusely. “Eat these and drink some of the soda. Let me get a cold cloth for your head.” He walked into the bathroom. I can’t do this to the kid. He put the baggie of coke down on top of an open vanity drawer and went in to calm Liam down. Searching his pockets, he found some downers. He opened the capsules and slipped the contents into the open can of Coke. He took the phone off the hook in the bedroom and stayed until the kid fell asleep.

****

“Okay, Bart, which one did you see him with?” Milo demanded as he shook Bart’s shoulders in a rage. “The blond with the stringy hair.” Milo tore over to the roadie and grabbed the blond by the neck. “Did you plant that piece inSizzle ? Did you touch my Liam?” “No, man. If it anyone did, it would be Danny, but they’re just friends.” “Are you sure? Have they ever gone off alone together?” “Plenty of times, but only for lunch or something.” Milo flew out of the building. Bart followed. “You want to go for a drink, buddy?” “No, I don’t need you whispering in my ear tonight. I’m going to a hotel. I need to think.” “Look, do what you like, but if he’s using, search the house. You’ll find it. Junkies are never too smart about where they hide their stash.”

Milo got to the hotel about eight p.m. after a stop at the local package store. He rented a suite and took the bottle to settle in for the night. This was his Liam they talked about, his baby, who had looked at him with so much love in his eyes that morning. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed home. The phone just kept ringing busy. Liam’s cell went straight to voice mail. Finally, at two in the morning, halfway through the bottle, he gave up, staggered over to the bed, and passed out.

****

Rick left the house about one in the morning. He heard Liam’s cell phone and knew who was calling. He didn’t dare answer because if he did, Milo would know he had been in the house. At about two thirty, Liam woke up feeling groggy. He noticed the phone off the hook, replaced it, and staggered down the stairs to the kitchen. As he hit the bottom step the phone rang. He stumbled into the kitchen and caught it on the third ring. “Milo?” Liam answered in a hoarse voice. “No, Bart. He’s with me tonight, you little shit. Soon it’s all going to be stripped away and you’ll have nothing. Nothing is what a no-talent little leech deserves.” The phone slammed in Liam’s ear. Shattered, although he thought he had no tears left, he cried. Unable to face the bed without Milo in it, he curled up in a ball on the couch and stared at the door. By six a.m., Liam couldn’t take it anymore. He went upstairs, got dressed and took the car out to look for Milo.

****

Milo pulled into the driveway a little before six thirty that morning, determined to reverse the downward spiral of their relationship. I’ll come out of the closet, go to couples counseling. I’ll do anything to keep him mine. I have nothing if I don’t have Liam. He parked in the driveway and ran out of the car, leaving the car door open. He found the house unlocked. He shouted, “Liam, baby, where are you?” He searched the kitchen, the bedroom, the studio. He went back upstairs to see if Liam took any of his things with him. There in the bathroom, a baggy of white powder sat on top of an open drawer. He opened it, wet his finger, dipped it in the bag and tasted—cocaine.

****

By ten o’clock, Liam hadn’t found any trace of Milo. He decided to go to the rehearsal studio and wait. In the now-vast entourage that was Shattered Glass, gossip traveled at warp speed. As soon as Liam arrived, someone told him that Danny’s wife had called minutes earlier. Liam knew something must be wrong because Nora never called while Danny worked. Liam spotted Danny from the platform. He sat in the corner closest to the studio stage. His large hands held his head and his shoulders shook. The sound of his sobs reverberated through the empty studio. Rick, Milo and Bart had yet to show, and the crew took off to bring in coffee and donuts. In all the years Danny toured with the band, Liam never saw him so emotional. He moved closer to the equipment racks, hoping to ferret out the problem. Something terrible must have happened. Liam picked up his pace. Jesus, the man’s whole body looked shrunken. His face looked mottled and the rims of his eyes matched his red head. Liam sat down next to his friend. He could put aside his own troubles and see what happened. Not many knew Danny’s business, and he wanted it that way. Very few even knew Danny was married and had a kid. Liam whispered, “What’s up, old man?” “Jimmy has leukemia,” Danny answered in a flat tone. “The local hospital says it’s untreatable. Nora said one of the nurses told her to take him to John Hopkins. But our insurance doesn’t cover it, and he’s dying. He only eight years old, and he’s dying.” Liam embraced Danny and hugged him hard. “Don’t worry. Tell Nora we’ll have you, her, and Jimmy on a plane to Baltimore by this evening. I’ll drive you home and we’ll arrange for plane tickets as soon as we get there.” Rehearsal began in only twenty minutes and Liam didn’t want to piss Milo off. He drove Danny into Middletown and headed straight back to the rehearsal hall after making arrangements for the Hobbs family’s tickets to Baltimore, and a hotel for Nora and Danny near the hospital. He broke all the speed limits trying to get back on time. He ran straight into Milo, who smelled of booze. “You must have fucked him all night!” Milo shouted. “No, I spent last night alone at the house after Rick left. Where the fuck were you?” “Thinking. And when I came home ready to talk, I found this.” Milo threw the plastic bag of cocaine at Liam. “What the fuck is that? It isn’t mine.” “Yeah, and the guy you spend all that time with isn’t your lover. I’ve been told more than once about your lying and cheating, and I always refused to listen. But there it was, right in front of my fucking eyes.”

“Milo, let me explain. It isn’t what you think!” “I pulled in and saw you as you put your arm around his shoulder and kissing his ear. I saw you getting into your car with him. Go the fuck home, Liam. We’ll talk there. As for the rest of you, rehearsal is cancelled.”

****

Milo sat next to Bart in a small out-of-the-way pub about four miles from home. Milo drank steadily all afternoon. “You know, Milo, I’ve stood back and watched him do this to you and mostly kept my mouth shut. But I have strong feelings for you and I don’t like to see you covered in shit. You got to remember, he’s so young, he couldn’t help it. He’s only been legal to drink for about twenty-four hours. Kids experiment.” “I know that, but this was Liam,my Liam.” “I hate to say this, but people have been talking for a long time, with him being so young and all.” Bart stroked Milo’s hair. Milo’s head shot up. “I’m no pedophile. I never touched him until he turned eighteen.” “But you had custody. Come on, Milo. It’s me. You never got a hard-on looking at him sleep? You never held him to comfort him and got an inappropriate erection?” Bart’s voice sounded both coaxing and condemning. It was smooth, Milo thought.Too smooth. “No.” He pulled back into his own chair. “You can lie to me, but don’t lie to yourself. It’s better that you break the tie. If he gets busted, all of this will come out.” “You’re supposed to be my friend. Friends don’t think that kind of thing about each other.” Milo got up and threw a fifty on the bar. “I have to go. Even if he cheated, even if he did the drugs, you crossed the line with me today. I’m no child molester. I will confront Liam, because I have to. I can’t continue to live like this. But our friendship is over, buddy.” “You’re upset, I know. I won’t take that personally. I’ll be waiting to pick up the pieces, Milo, I swear.” Milo barely made it out to the car. Bart followed. “Watch it buddy, you are pretty loaded. Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” “No, I can throw the cheating bastard out of the house all by myself. I don’t need him, you, Sam or anyone else.” Milo stewed all the way home. He hit the house shouting and swearing. “I saw you with your arm around his shoulder.”

“I can explain, Milo. His kid is sick and—” Milo shouted over him, “Well, explain this!” Milo threw a second bag of cocaine at Liam. “I found one in your bathroom this morning, and this in your guitar case this afternoon. Everything they said inSizzle was true.” “Milo, somebody is setting me up. I swear to you on Lily’s grave.” “You fucking, cheating little freak! Don’t defame your dead mother’s memory with your dirty lies.” Milo stomped up to the bedroom. He started to fling Liam’s things out of their bedroom window onto the front lawn. When he finished throwing clothes he pounded his fists on the dresser with such force the glass top shattered. He grabbed Liam and started to shake him, in a violent rage and totally out of control. He flung Liam across the room so hard that Liam bounced off the bed to the floor. Tears ran down Liam’s face. “Milo, stop! I’m telling the truth.” “You wouldn’t know the truth, you little bastard, if it crawled up your ass and died.” “Milo, please, don’t hurt me.” Milo’s frantic rage came to a quick halt. “Get out! Get out of my house, get out of my life. I don’t need your shit. I don’t need you. You are nothing but a fucking boy whore, only you give it away for free. I’d have more respect for a whore. At least he has a reason for being a slut.” “I can explain what happened. I’ve never slept with anyone but you.” “Get out of my sight, you faithless fuck, before I beat the shit out of you.” Liam stared at him, his arms raised, tears rolling down his face. “Look, I’m going. I’ll see you at rehearsal. We’ll talk when you are sober. You’re not in your right mind.” He stood and backed toward the bedroom door. Milo shouted after him, “You’re not my burden anymore, kid. Get the hell out of my house.” Liam ran out of the house with only the clothes on his back.

****

The next day at rehearsal, Liam again tried to explain what happened. “Milo, please listen. Give me a chance to explain.” “No explanations are either necessary or desired, you little prick.” Milo’s voice sounded slurred as he shoved him away. Liam smelled the bourbon thick on his breath. “If you get within a foot of me, I’ll kill you.”

“Please, Milo, I beg you. I’ve never lied to you. Why would I start now? Please, at least hear me out!” “I’ve heard and seen enough, you little fuck. I don’t need you, in my life, or in my bed.” By the end of rehearsal, Liam felt physically sick. Milo refused to talk to him. Liam sat alone on the sidelines while the band took a break. Everyone was afraid to go near him with Milo that wild. Then Liam looked up and saw Bart molding himself to Milo’s back, rubbing against his lover, using Milo as if he were a cheap fuck toy. Liam lost it. “You son of a bitch. You’re blaming me for cheating and that fucking bastard is crawling up your ass, something you never let me do.” Liam jumped from the stage onto Bart’s back and punched him in the jaw. Bart threw Liam off and turned back. The heavier man started to hit Liam in the face. The roadies pulled them apart. Instead of coming to Liam’s assistance, Milo began shouting at him. “You fucking little man-whore, you are a disgrace to the good woman who raised you. You’re a little miserable, conniving, fucking low-life bastard, selling yourself behind my back to feed a fucking drug habit. You’re a liar and a cheat. I never want to lay eyes on you again. I mean it, Liam. Do not go anywhere I can see you, especially not with that miserable son of a bitch. I’ll kill you both.” Something broke inside Liam, the constant jealously and suspicion, the double-standard. He couldn’t live like that anymore. But how do I exist without him. I’m guess I’m going to find out. “Fine,” Liam answered. “You got it. I’m leaving, and I will not cross your bloody path ever again.” Liam walked out of the rehearsal and got on the cell phone, arranging for a ticket and a room at the same hotel in Baltimore where he registered the Hobbs family. At least he could be of use to someone.

Chapter Eight

“Dearest Liar”

He lied to me about desire He lied to me about his love And when I thought we could go higher The closer I came the harder he shoved I fell into the fire

Onto the pyre A martyr to love So now comes ice And not desire Don’t think twice I’m out of love Don’t think twice I’m a liar A martyr to love And desire I can’t live without his love

—Milo Stamis,Words Without Music , 2005

****

Directly after Liam left, Milo slammed into the office to call Sam. “Sam—” “You did something stupid, didn’t you?” “If you mean throwing that little bastard out with the trash, then yes I did. I found two packets of cocaine, one in the bathroom at the house and the other in his guitar case. I also saw him cozying up to Danny Hobbs, and so did others. I’ve had enough. I’m coming into the city. Rent a suite at the Plaza, we’ll have a press conference there. He’s out.” “Jesus, Milo, you sound like you’re drunk! Who do you think you’re going to get for the new tour? It begins in two weeks.” “That’s your job, Sam. Besides, you already arranged for Borchoi to make guest appearances. Ask him to tour.” “But Borchoi isn’t Liam. Have you tried calling him? Why don’t you give both him and yourself a week to cool down? In the mean time, I’ll nail down Borchoi just in case.”

“Get that suite. I can’t bear to be in the house.” “All right, but I think you are making a big mistake.”

****

Rick stood right outside the office door and heard every word Milo said. Maybe Bart is right.With Liam gone, I might finally some respect. But what if Liam calls him? Rick stepped inside the office. “I’m so sorry, that you found out like that, bro.” “Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood for company. I’m going into Manhattan to stay for a few days. I’ll call you when we get this straight.” Rick saw Milo’s cell on the cabinet. They all had the same phones. He walked past and swapped them, shutting his own off and pocketing Milo’sThat should buy me some time. Before an hour passed, Milo’s phone rang. It was Liam. Rick answered. “Where’s Milo? I need to talk to him. I’d like a chance to tell him the truth and explain, if he’s calmed down and sobered up enough to listen. You know I’m not screwing around on him. Tell him.” “Wait a minute. I’ll see if he’ll come to the phone.” Rick put Liam on hold and waited over five minutes before picking up the line again. “I’m sorry, Liam. He won’t speak to you. You know how he gets.” Liam sounded resigned. “Could you at least tell Sam that I’m in Baltimore with Nora and Danny? Their son Jimmy has leukemia. He’s only eight and he’s dying. I’m pulling some strings to get him into an experimental chemo program. Ask Sam to explain it to Milo. He’ll listen to Sam.” “Sure thing, bro.” “I should be back in a few days.” “Don’t sweat it. Milo called off rehearsals for a week. I’ll tell them where you are. In the meantime, give Danny and his family our best.” Rick flew down the stairs to Bart to tell him what he did. Bart nodded his head. “Good thinking, buddy. Give me the phone and I’ll hide it somewhere. I’ll also send flowers from the band down to John Hopkins. If we didn’t, it would look suspicious.” Rick handed Bart the phone. “Now, you have to call your brother tonight and tell him you heard from Liam. Tell him Liam said he

won’t come back to Shattered Glass, doesn’t want to talk to him personally because he’s so close to Milo, and is going to take some time to decide what to do next. Tell him he asked Sam to rent him a house, somewhere in Navesink, close enough to Rumson that it won’t look suspicious. If Sam asks where Liam is, tell him he’s somewhere in the islands with Danny, and you don’t expect to hear from him until he gets home.” Rick picked up the house line. “Sam, I heard from Liam. He’s gone somewhere to think.” “Where the fuck did he go? Is he coming back?” Rick paced the floor, nervously. “I don’t know if he’s coming back to Milo, or for that matter, the band. The kid needs space. He and Bart almost beat the shit out of each other. Then Liam and Milo got in a fight and Liam stormed out, said he was going away.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell his older brother the lie about Liam and Danny. “Liam? Got physical? He won’t even swat a fly. Are you high?” Sam’s voice sounded high-pitched and full of disbelief. “Have all of you lost your minds? Milo was drunk and now this!” “No, I’m not high. I’m stone-cold sober. Maybe this is for the best. Those two were like oil and vinegar. Makes a good salad dressing, but only stays married for the salad course of the meal.” “I don’t need any fucking folksy idioms, I need information. Tell me if he calls again.” “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

****

Liam called Milo’s cell every day for ten days. Sometimes it went straight to voice mail, sometimes Bart answered and Liam hung up. With the Hobbs family settled into a rental house near the hospital, he couldn’t do any more in Baltimore. He decided to come home and try to confront Milo directly. Liam called Rick. “I don’t have Sam’s number. Can you give it to me?” “Um, hate to tell you this, but he’s totally taken Milo’s side. You know how close they are. He won’t talk to you right now. He’s pretty pissed he had to talk Bart out of pressing charges against you for assault.” “I’m on my way back to Rumson. Is Milo at the house?” “No, kid, he went off with Bart. They rented a house in South Beach. I expect them back any day.” Liam’s body trembled. “Are my things still at the house?” “No, Milo had them moved. I talked Sam into renting a new place for you in Navesink so you’d have a place to go. I’ll meet you at the airport in the morning.” “I’ll have my car.”

“But you won’t be in any shape to drive. Sam’s holding a press conference in three days. You have that long to get your ass back here in one piece.” “Okay. Thank you, Rick. You’ve been a real friend.” Liam missed the press conference, which Sam held that afternoon. He caught it in his hotel room as he was packing his suitcase to return home. He collapsed on the bed, yet another body blow. Rick met him at the airport the next day. “I’m sorry, man. Milo and Bart came back from their trip and Sam decided not to postpone the inevitable. He said to tell you when you are ready to do solo work, to call his assistant.” Liam arranged for a courier to drive his car to his new address and silently rode with Rick to his new home. He walked into the Navesink house to piles of boxes and cheap furniture. He didn’t give a damn. He disconnected the phone line Sam arranged, trashed his cell, and went into seclusion. The only contact he maintained with the outside world was Rick.

****

The first few days, after he sobered up, Milo tried to the point of madness to find Liam and ask him what the hell really happened, but Liam couldn’t be found. It hadn’t taken Milo long after he cooled down to reconsider his actions. Even if the evidence against Liam damned him, Milo needed to hear from Liam what went wrong. He should have listened. Running Liam off became his biggest regret. However, after the rehearsal debacle, Sam claimed he didn’t know where Liam was, and Rick told them Liam was out of town but had no way to contact him. Milo fired Bart the day of the press conference when he tried to caress Milo’s ass in front of the media. It was the last straw. Despite everything, Milo felt guilty and mourned Liam’s loss. He thought they might still have a chance once he found him and Liam admitted fault. Then Bart started in with reporters staring right at them, and Milo exploded, firing Bart on the spot. Later, in his suite, Milo poured Sam a whiskey. “Fuck, Sam, maybe Liam didn’t stray at all.” “About time you saw reason.” “Maybe you’re right. Bart’s a prick and made a big play for me just before Liam left. He wouldn’t accept that I didn’t want him. I think I was inoculated against Bart because of Liam’s constant stress about the guy. It left a sour taste in my mouth I just can’t shake.” He took a long sip of his drink. “Bart would have been the perfect foil, giving Liam back a taste of what you experienced when you saw Liam with Danny,” Sam replied. “Even if you were interested, Bart’s oily and didn’t have enough sense to let you come to terms with what happened before he made his move. I still don’t think you gave Liam a fair shake.” “Maybe. On the day we got into the murderous fight and Liam left the studio, Bart was all over me, pushing me harder than ever. He made blatant sexual advances in front of the crew. Liam would know

better. I told Bart yet again that the band couldn’t afford for any of its members to be ‘out.’” “Yet you need a drummer for the tour, to say nothing of a singer,” Sam said. “I don’t care what you say. You are it. Bart’s history. Your assistants can cover for you for a few weeks. You owe me. Sam, why won’t you tell me where the kid is?” “Because I don’t know. Rick talks to him, says Liam won’t communicate with me because he feels you and I are too close. And frankly, I really don’t want to get in the middle of this. I told you how I felt in the beginning.” Sam stood abruptly and put his empty glass on the table. “I told you, I don’t have time to play around on the drums.” Despite Sam’s pleas that he did not have time to do the tour, Milo remained adamant. “Sam, as far as I’m concerned, Bart’s gone.” Then Milo returned home from New York after the press conference at the Plaza and found everything Liam owned cleaned out of the house. The brat even took the goddamned cats. Milo left messages all over town for Liam—not a single callback. Not even a fuck you, just dead silence met all pleas. Liam never answered his phone and Milo’s letters returned, unopened. Rick claimed he heard from Liam periodically, but that Liam wouldn’t say where he was. Milo finally gave up. Chaos reigned. Sam came in for the tour dates and took over for Bart. Even though Borchoi, who filled in as lead singer, did his own stuff well, he wasn’t Liam. The magic left with Liam. After the tour, Shattered Glass folded their tent and went quietly into the night.

****

In the first six weeks, Rick only had sporadic contact with Liam, usually the kid calling him in the middle of the night and crying while Rick reassured him Milo would call once he calmed down. Then, silence. After two weeks of not seeing or hearing from Liam despite what he told Sam and Milo, Rick grew worried. Liam may have taken a lot of attention away from Rick, but getting rid of him hadn’t made anything better, only worse. Not only had the band folded, he’d lost his friends. He decided to pay Liam a visit. Besides, he needed money. Bart cut him off unless he had cash. Both Sam and Milo knew he had a habit and wouldn’t lend him any more money.Perhaps I can tap Liam. He pounded on Liam’s door for fifteen minutes to rouse him from wherever in the house he holed up. Liam looked terrible. He’d lost at least twenty pounds, hadn’t shaved or showered in a while, and could barely stand. The boxes of stuff brought over from Milo’s house hadn’t been unpacked and littered the floor. Everything remained untouched except for one open duffel bag. Rick,” Liam said, “do you know what happened to my cats? I’ve looked everywhere. Are they safe?

Does Milo have them? Should I call Sam?” Rick knew damn well that Bart took the cats, but tried to reassure Liam. “Milo has them, kid. I’m sure they are just as pampered and spoiled as they were when you had them.” “I miss them, you know,” Liam said in a flat voice. “Why don’t you shower and dress, and we’ll go for something to eat?” Rick suggested. “Can’t. Waiting for Milo to call or come and get me.” He stared at the ring on his finger, the one Milo had given him. “He will give me a chance to tell him I didn’t do that stuff when he calms down. You know I didn’t do it, don’t you, Rick?” From Liam’s tone of voice and vacant stare, Rick seriously worried about his friend’s grasp on reality. “Liam,” Rick gently said, “I think you’ve got to wrap your head around the fact that Milo isn’t coming.” Rick avoided the second question. He felt too guilty. Liam set his lower lip into a pout Rick hadn’t seen since Liam was twelve. “Yes, he is. He always comes. He knows I don’t lie. I’ve never lied. He’ll figure it out. This can’t be all there is.” Liam started to cry quietly. “Maybe if you went out a bit more and saw people, you’d run into him.” “Do you think so?” Liam asked, almost childlike in response, then frowned. “I said I’d stay out of his way. Don’t I need to wait on him?” Rick thought fast. “I’m sure he didn’t mean everything he said. Besides, I’d be with you. I’d help you talk to him. And I’m not making any guarantees we’ll run into him, but anything’s possible. Let me run down to the deli and get you a sandwich while you clean yourself up. Then we can talk about it.” Rick got into his car. During the drive, his conscience ate at him. Bart’s plan not only failed, but Liam looked a step away from hospitalization. It wasn’t worth it. He called Bart. “Look, buddy, I’m about to go to Milo and Sam and confess everything. I’ve just been to Liam’s, and he’s on the verge of a psychotic break.” “Bullshit. He needs to get laid, that’s all. He needs to get Milo out of his system. I have an idea.” Rick turned the corner into the deli parking lot. “I don’t like your ideas. They wind up hurting people.” “Are you beginning to get the shakes? You need your fix, right? You are in this as deep as I am. If you confess now, you’ll be doing pushups for a guy named Bruno in one of New Jersey’s finest correctional institutions.” “I may be an addict, but I’m not stupid. I haven’t done anything illegal.” “You set up Liam with enough dope that you could be accused of dealing, and as someone concerned about Liam’s well-being,” he sarcastically said, “I would be happy to point the finger in your direction.” “Why do you hate the kid so much? What did he ever do to you?” Rick asked as he parked the car.

“That’s none of your business. It’s much better for you if you stay stupid.” Rick got out of the car and headed into the deli. “If you listen to me,” Bart continued, his voice turning persuasive, “you’ll get your stuff and you might even make the kid feel better.” “Hold on, I got to get the kid a sandwich. He hasn’t been eating.” “Don’t get anything too greasy, and get chicken soup if they have it. I need him in shape for what I’m going to arrange.” Rick ordered both the sandwich and soup at the counter. He knew the act of getting the soup meant he planned to do as Bart asked, despite his self-loathing. Bart instructed him to take Liam to one of the underground Asbury BDSM clubs. He told him to slip Liam some X and he’d give him a roofie later. Rick remained dubious, but he did need a fix and he’d done that before to no ill effect. He knew Bart wouldn’t kill the kid, and maybe Liam did need to get away from his fixation on Milo. It’s not as if it did him any good. Once they got there, Bart would take care of Liam, and Rick could leave. Rick pulled back into Liam’s driveway and found the kid waiting anxiously at the door. “Let’s go. I want to find Milo.” “Whoa, kid. First you eat. Second, no one goes out to a club until after nine. It’s not done, and you haven’t cleaned up yet.” “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m a little nervous.” “Here, some chicken soup and a turkey club. Eat up.” “No chips?” asked Liam with a ghost of a smile as he started eating. “Not unless you want to barf. You know, you really need to get Milo out of your system. Maybe since he’s the only person you ever fucked, you need to do a comparison.” Rick felt a little ill. He didn’t know if from guilt or needing his fix. Maybe both. Liam shook his head in denial. “No, Rick. Only Milo.” “Well, he isn’t waiting around for you. He’s seen out at all the clubs with Bart.” “Yeah, I know about Milo and Bart. I’ve gotten some letters.” Liam frowned and a tear slipped from his eye. “What kind of letters?” Rick asked, shuffling his feet. Maybe Bart was up to more than he admitted. “Nasty letters telling me what Bart and Milo are doing. It hurts.” Liam slumped down to the floor, tears

streaking his face. “Any signature?” The hair on the back of Rick’s neck stood on end. “No signature, but there have been a few so-called presents.” Liam looked away from Rick. “What kind of presents?” Rick asked bending down to look Liam in the eye. “Flowers in black ribbons.” Liam tried to shrug as if indifferent. “Have you called the cops?” Rick asked, not knowing whether he wanted to hear the answer. “Yeah, but they think it was a disgruntled fan. They told me to hire a bodyguard because they didn’t have the manpower to have someone watch the house.” Liam attempted to stand. Rick gave him a hand. He could see the kid had already gotten a little wobbly. The stuff had hit him fast. “Have you told Sam about it?” Rick nervously asked. “No. You told me he won’t talk to me.” He looked close to tears again. “I need Milo.” Rick felt more sick relief. “Maybe you should start being seen with someone else. Make Milo see what he’s missing. I bet that would work.” “Who? I don’t know anyone but you guys, and I don’t even know how to begin to find a date.” “Look, I’ll take you to a club in Asbury I know. I can give you a little something to ease the way, so to speak. You go to the back room, fool around a little and come back out. Tell the guy to tell his friends and Milo will find out. If he really wants you, he’ll come running.” “Are you sure?” “Positive.” “No actual fucking, right? Otherwise, I don’t know if I could go through with it.” “Don’t worry kid, Dr. Rick will fix you up with the right mixture of chemicals so that you won’t even remember what happened until I remind you.” “I won’t use drugs.” Liam stared up at Rick. “You already did. I put it in your Coke. Not so bad, see? You didn’t even know.” Liam tried to focus on the clock. “It’s eight thirty. Should we go?” “Not yet, let’s get you in the shower and changed.” Rick hustled Liam through a shower and change of clothes. In fifteen minutes, Liam walked out the door with Rick without setting the security alarm. Twenty minutes later they pulled into a dimly lit parking lot in Asbury Park with Liam still uncertain. “Are you sure Milo will hear about this? Am I doing the right thing, or is this just going to make him more angry at me?”

“Come on kid, get out of the car. I guarantee he’ll hear about it. You’ll have a blast.” Rick opened the passenger door and dragged a reluctant Liam through the parking lot and down a half-flight of stairs. The nameChains flickered on a discreet neon sign below the stairs. The club lights blinked in rhythm to the beat of the hard, driving rock. Rick kept Liam upright as the drugs kicked in and tried not to feel sick over what he was about to do. Men crawled on the floor like dogs while others were tied to what looked like medieval torture devices. Rick pushed Liam toward the bar. “I can’t do this,” Liam said. “Yes, you can.” Rick grabbed his arm and steered him to a bar stool, practically holding Liam up because his legs wobbled. He helped him onto the stool. “Sit here a minute. There’s someone I have to see.” Rick walked down to the end of the bar where Bart sat sipping a beer. “Okay. I got him here. Now I want my stuff.” Bart took another long swallow. “You have one more duty to perform tonight, then you’ll get anything you want after.” “What’s that?” Rick tapped his fingers on the bar in impatience. “I’ll get him home tonight. You show up at the house at three thirty. He’ll be pretty wound up.” He handed him a small paper bag. “Give him a shot of what’s in this syringe. I guarantee he won’t remember what happened here, and he won’t feel any pain.” “What is it?” Rick asked. “Ketamine.” “Okay.” Rick thought that Bart believed him to be a real sucker. He knew Bart didn’t plan to give him shit. “Give me the works.” Rick took the bag from Bart. It was going up his arm as soon as he hit the parking lot. He knew Bart intended to leave him high and dry after he dosed Liam. He’d slip Liam another X and keep the Special K for himself. Whatdid Bart intend for Liam? Despite his misgivings, Rick strode back to the other end of the bar, where Liam could barely stay on the stool by himself. “Kid, I’m leaving you with a friend. Do exactly as he says and we can hope for a good result, yeah?” “I’m feeling kind of woozy. Maybe I should go home now.” Liam reached out and grabbed Rick’s arm for purchase. “Naw, you’re getting cold feet. Stay here. My friend will be along and you’ll do okay. I’ll see you later at the house.” Rick turned and left the bar, deliberately not looking back for fear he’d change his mind. The thought of the Special K in his hand, soon to be in his veins, would go a long way to assuaging his guilt.

****

Bart watched as Liam sat obediently at the end of the bar. His ebony hair and the lost look in his violet eyes attracted the leather Daddy crowd like bees to honey. Bart sat watching from across the room. He sent Liam a drink laced with a roofie in case the X hadn’t done an adequate job. He noticed one of his more sadistic buddies eyeing Liam. Bart strolled over to him, grinning in satisfaction at his friend’s predatory gaze. “New meat, Samson?” “Yeah, never seen him here before. You know him? He looks familiar.” “I sure do. How would you like to fuck the ass of the most famous bad boy in rock?” “That’s Liam O’Shea?” “Yeah, a little bruised around the edges, but that’s Liam. He was in the band with me.” Bart preened. “Give me a shot at him,” Samson demanded, grinning. “I’ll not only give you a shot, but round up a few of your most creative friends and meet me in the back room. You can have several shots, no limits, no safe words.” Bart grinned. “Bareback.” Bart walked over and sat on the stool facing Liam. The kid was way too wasted to recognize him in the dark club. “I’m Tom. Rick told me to take care of you. I’ve got what you want.” “Don’t I know you?” Bart noted with satisfaction that Liam’s voice sounded fuzzy and his eyes looked unable to focus. Liam squinted and looked into Bart’s face. “Your voice is familiar. I’m not thinking too straight, but I know that voice. I don’t think I like you.” He started to pull away, but Bart grabbed him. “Sure you do. I’m Tom, a friend of Rick’s, and he’s made me your host for the evening, so to speak. You trust Rick, right? Let’s get you up off that stool.” Bart gripped Liam’s arms hard enough to leave bruises and to brook no resistance. Confused, Liam said, “Ouch. Is Rick back there? He said he’d stay with me or did he say he’d see me later? I’m confused. I don’t remember.” Liam’s words slurred. He tried to pull away despite Bart’s merciless grip. “You don’t need Rick for this party, bud. He’ll catch up with you later.” “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Liam mumbled. Liam tried to say something else, but Bart jammed a ball gag into his mouth. As Liam weakly tried to paw at the strap, Bart tightened and buckled it, laughing as he did. Samson carried Liam to the back room and cuffed him over a padded spanking bench. Bart clamped

stiff leather restraints around Liam’s wrists. One of Samson’s buddies stripped Liam of his jeans, then moved his legs up into a kneeling position and strapped them into restraints. The party began. They started with the cat… A few hours later, Liam had passed out. Bart dumped Liam at his front door about two a.m. Surprisingly, the kid possessed the stamina to last that long. He left him lying in the ceramic tiled entrance hall.

****

Liam woke at three. His ass felt like he’d been impaled on a hot poker. He attempted to move his arms and legs as he shivered on the cold tile. When Liam ran his hand down his leg and touched nothing but skin, he realized he was naked. He moved his head to look down. Fiery red welts and bruises covered every inch of his skin, some of which still bled sluggishly. He hurt badly. He looked sideways and found jeans next to him on the floor. He tried to sit up but fell over again right away. He waited, he didn’t know how long, then tried again. He made it. A small pool of blood remained on the tile where he’d sat. He touched himself gingerly. A mass of blood and semen ran out of his hole. Oh God, what have I done? Now I am exactly what Milo said I am.Besides the pain he remembered nothing but an insidious voice in his ear telling him, “I’m watching, and enjoying your pain. You squeal so politely. You know you love it, look at you. Everything Milo said about you was right.” Liam struggled to get up. He staggered to the spa room, which connected to the master bedroom and an outdoor patio. He made it to the Jacuzzi, taking one step at a time. With intense focus, he turned on the jets and crawled to his open duffel, which sat next to the door. There in the side pocket, left over from his trip to Baltimore, was bottle of Xanax, prescribed after his blow up with Milo, to help calm his nerves. He reached for the bottle and downed the contents, followed by a bottle of the water he kept by the nightstand. Liam used the remote to turn on the stereo and put on Shattered Glass’ first CD. To make sure he got it right, Liam took the water glass Rick brought him earlier and banged it on the edge of the sink. It broke. He took the largest shard to slit both his wrists twice. Lurching over to the now-swirling hot tub, he managed to fall into the water. Righting himself, he sat back and contemplated all of Milo’s gardens that he would never see. Tears tracking down his cheeks, he passed out to the sound ofLover’s Suite .

****

Rick showed up at the house at three thirty as ordered, but sans syringe and still flying high on the dose of Special K Bart had intended for Liam. He knocked on the front door, but Liam didn’t answer. The door was locked. Rick knew Liam didn’t lock it before they left, and knowing the effect of the drugs

Liam had, knew he likely didn’t lock it himself. Worried, he walked around the perimeter of the house. The spa room had French doors leading to a private patio, intended for the exclusive use of the occupants of the suite. Rick climbed a trellis and jumped the wall onto the patio, where he had a full view of the spa tub. Liam lay in a whirling pool of blood-red water. Heart racing, Rick rolled his jacket around his arm and broke a pane of glass on the French door nearest to the handle and gained access. Pulling Liam out of the tub, he called Sam. “Sam, I’m at Liam’s. He’s made a suicide attempt. Looks bad.” “Stay on the phone. I’m calling a private ambulance service.” It only took a minute for Sam to get back on the line. “What the fuck happened? Tell me what you see.” “There’s an empty bottle of Xanax. He cut his wrists, but I’ve wrapped them in towels. Is there anything else I can do?” Sam spoke to someone else. “The hospital says try to wake him up. You should be hearing the ambulance any moment now.” Rick heard the siren before Sam finished the sentence. He ran to the front door and put on all of the outside lights. “Where are they taking him?” “I’m sending him to a private hospital that specializes in these cases. Follow the ambulance. I’ll meet you there.” The ambulance attendant let Rick ride with Liam. The kid kept mumbling Milo’s name in his stupor. Rick squared his jaw in an effort not to scream out his guilt. This is it. After Liam is fixed up, I’m never seeing Bart Hedge again.

****

On his way to the clinic, Sam made several calls. The first call insured the discretion of both the ambulance service and the facility, which he did with a rather large donation of Liam’s money. The second was to Milo, but Milo couldn’t be found. Sam stood at the end of the bed when Liam came to his senses. Liam looked at Sam. “I’m so worthless and pathetic I can’t even do this right.” He buried his head in the pillow. Sam felt frightened. Liam still sounded suicidal. “Look, you owe Rick your life. If he hadn’t come along, you’d be singing with the angels.” “Does Milo know?”

“I can’t find Milo.” He shoved back his anger at Milo to focus on Liam. “Hasn’t he done you enough damage? Do you want to self-destruct? Your volatile relationship broke up the band, and now you are looking to destroy yourself.” “I’m sorry, Sam.” “It’s about time someone told you this—it’s time for you to make a clean break. Milo isn’t coming back, and it’s time for you to get that through you head. Grow up. You have a life outside of your past with Milo. Right now you’re pretty worthless. I’m your friend, but I’m not your babysitter. You need to start taking responsibility for yourself. I want you to see a good shrink who isn’t afraid to help you see just what you’ve been doing to yourself and those around you. Call me when you wise up and you’re ready to talk.” Sam walked out and consulted with the doctor, hoping his tough love would do the trick. He couldn’t depend on Milo to undo the damage he’d wrought.

****

Liam spent two weeks in the clinic and learned the game. He talked about self-esteem, and the virtues of staying clean and sober. He made promises he never intended to keep and conned his way into a get-out-of-jail-free card. Liam walked out and didn’t look back. Nor did he keep the follow-up appointment with the therapist, or even fill the prescription for anti-depressants he was given. He went back to his mausoleum of a house and made a deliberate effort to pursue a downward spiral to oblivion through self-destruction for four more months. He wanted to forget Milo and decided to drink himself into oblivion. But the letters kept coming, describing in detail Milo making love to Bart. When they arrived, Liam would go out and find someone to screw so he could pretend that someone cared. Drunk, he didn’t notice it wasn’t Milo’s cock pounding his ass. Drunk, he didn’t care if Rick and Sam had deserted him. He found plenty of friends as long as he remained willing to buy the drinks. Inevitably, one night he picked up the wrong guy, someone his fame didn’t impress. He awoke in an alley, face down in a mud puddle, with broken ribs, black eyes, and missing his wallet, cash and identification. Looking back, he got lucky, he didn’t lose his life. He’d been mugged and rolled by a rent boy. The conversation stuck in his mind. “How much?” Liam asked. The street kid had recognized him as soon as Liam propositioned him. The kid wanted to talk, but Liam was too drunk and drugged to manage. Liam remembered mumbling, “Just fuck me, asshole, and get it done with it.” “Just because you’re a rich bastard who happened to be lucky enough to be born with a set of golden pipes, doesn’t mean you can diss me, you motherfucker.” The kid beat Liam, kicking his torso with heavy boots, trying to get at his cock and balls. He managed to break a few ribs and bruised the entire left side of Liam’s body, which later shone in bizarre shades of purple. Liam did not even fight back. He

curled up on the pavement in a ball. When Liam regained consciousness, he called a cab with the loose change he found in his pocket. The driver took him to the house and waited for Liam to go in and get his money. As soon as he sobered up, he called Sam. With trembling fingers, Liam dialed Sam’s number. “I’m hurt. I need help.” “Do you need an ambulance? Where are you?” He coughed and winced at the pain in his ribs. “I’ll live, but…” He closed his eyes. “I’m gonna need an HIV test.” He took a deep breath despite the pain in his ribs. “And the name and number of that shrink you wanted me to see.” Sam let out a relieved-sounding sigh as his voice gentled. “Thank Christ, you’ve seen the light. Now tell me what happened.” Liam fought his tears as he told him. “I can’t do this anymore. You’re right. I have to face reality. Milo’s not coming back, and I have to find a way to live what remains of my life alone.” He stared at his bare finger, where the ring Milo had given him was now missing. Later, when Sam asked what he remembered about the attack, Liam told him the kid spit in his face. But that didn’t give Liam nightmares. He told Sam, “He said that he wouldn’t fuck me with the Devil’s own dick because I’m a walking corpse who hadn’t the brains left to lie down and die. That did it. It was time.” When Sam tried to broach the subject of Milo and the break-up, Liam stopped him. “Please, I don’t want to talk about that with you.” He struggled to maintain his composure. “I’ll talk about it with the shrink, but I want to move forward.” Sam nodded. “Okay, kid. Sure. I understand.”

****

When The Devil’s Imp of Shattered Glass awoke with his face in a mud puddle and his pride in the toilet, he decided to become Liam O’Shea again, no matter how much it hurt to inhabit his own skin. When he’d called Sam, he’d worried the man would hang up in his ear. He didn’t. He helped. “You are ready to face it now,” he’d said. “I’ll do whatever I can.” Sam drove Liam to his first appointment. Liam went to the office ready to talk. He needed someone to give him an explanation. He felt dead inside. Why hadn’t Milo believed him? He didn’t think even Sam believed him and he was tired of trying to defend himself when he didn’t do anything wrong. Did Milo just stop loving him? Did Bart get it right when he told Liam that Milo thought him an obligation? He didn’t get answers, only more questions. Many a night since the breakup, his head would start pounding. He would fall to his knees and wonder what kind of monster he’d become.

Surprisingly, he liked the psychologist, Patricia O’Hearn. Sam got it right. Patricia let him talk and didn’t judge—she listened. Without Milo, Liam felt worthless. But on Liam’s first visit, Patricia made him understand he spent the last months trying to subconsciously prove Milo right. “Liam, why did you try to kill yourself?” “Because Milo turned out to be right. I’m nothing but a slut boy. The first opportunity I took to go out, I got gang banged.” “Don’t you mean gang raped? There is a difference.” “I asked for it.” “You asked for drugs to be put in your drink? You picked out and enjoyed the men who raped and severely beat you?” “No, of course not.” Liam grimaced. The mystery voice of that night still haunted him. “If none of the things I asked you are true, why do you feel you are a slut boy?” “I guess I’m not but—” “Liam, you said yourself you aren’t promiscuous. Do you really think your relationship with Milo was built on the love and trust you counted on to exist when he never trusted you?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “What did you feel when you awoke that night? Why did you try to end your life? Didn’t you say you always tried to do what Milo said?” He thought about it. “You mean I tried to commit suicide because I wanted Milo to be right?” “What doyou think?” He returned to her office every week for months, slowly coming to terms with everything. The rationale for his behavior began to gel inside his head and made a strange sort of sense. “I think we had a flawed relationship. I became too dependent, and even after the guardianship ended, I continued to behave more like a boy than a man. I liked to think I took some responsibility, but in reality, I let Milo do all the heavy lifting.” “How do you feel about that now?” “Guilty, sad. I realize now that I have to assume a lot of the blame for what happened to us, and to the band. I could have sent Danny, Nora and Jimmy to John Hopkins and stayed to explain about Jimmy to Sam, if Milo wouldn’t listen. I didn’t, I just ran away from Milo’s anger. I behaved like a scared child rather than an adult.” He hesitated, then took the plunge. “There is something I haven’t told Sam and I don’t want him or anyone else to know.” “What don’t you want them to know? Is it a good idea to keep secrets?”

“I have a stalker. It started as soon as I left Milo.” “Shouldn’t you notify the police?” “I did, initially. But, now he’s blackmailing me.” “You’ve given him money?” “No, just my silence. if I go to the authorities, he’ll go to the rags and do a number on the guys. It would all come out—Milo’s sexuality, Rick’s drug addiction, my promiscuity after the breakup, and accusations of Milo making love to me when I was underage. That last bit is a total lie. Milo and I first made love on my eighteenth birthday, but that would be very hard to prove. As to the rest of it, you know from our sessions it’s all true. All the blackmailer wants to do is torment me. I have to protect the rest of them, if only because they protected me for so long.” “What are you planning to do with your life, now that you are feeling better?” “Music. It’s all I really know and still care about.”

Chapter Nine

“Drowning”

I had to get away from the water It wore me down You swimming in the moonlight Me following you around I wanted to get closer And climb into your skin But I was your confessor And you were my biggest sin

—Milo Stamis, Words Without Music, 2005

****

Rick emerged from rehab clean and sober. However, he still felt dirty for the things he’d helped do to Liam, Milo, and in consequence, to the band. He got a new gig with an up-and-coming group, but his heart still belonged to Shattered Glass. He needed to smoke a load of weed each night to be able to play the type of bubble gum music he despised. It didn’t take long to make the leap from pot to heroin. Heroin became his drug of choice to dull the senses, and Rick needed enough to plaster over his conscience. Since he could no longer depend on the guys for a quick loan, he started to borrow from the local sharks. With the gig, he could barely make the payments, and his habit grew. It took five bills a day to keep the gremlins at bay. Because of his habit, despite his misgivings, he agreed to meet with Bart when the man called him one afternoon. “How are you, buddy?” Bart asked cordially. “You want a beer?” “Yeah, I’ll take a beer so long as you’re buying.” The bartender brought two beers. Both men took a sip. Rick eyed Bart warily. “I hate to put a damper on this happy reunion, but what do you want?” “Why do I have to want something to ask to see an old friend?” “Old dupe, you mean. Ask. Depending on the circumstance, I may agree. I’m short on cash.” “Rehab didn’t take?” “That is none of your goddamn business, especially since you started me on this road.” “You made your own choices. I didn’t force your hand.” “Whatever. Get to the point.” “I make a lot of extra cash selling celebrity dirt.” “So?” “I need a new source. I’ve heard you’re running short these days, and it came to me that your brother’s office is full of material for the rags.” “I’m not selling Sam out.” Bart continued as if Rick had never spoken, “In exchange, I’m willing to keep what I know about Shattered Glass on the down low. For instance, these lovely photos of Liam being banged by half the clientele ofChains that night before he tried to off himself. Here, take a look.” Bart pulled them up on his cell.

“You cold bastard.” Rick’s stomach turned into a knot. “Yes, technically, and also a son of a bitch, but that doesn’t change the situation. Cooperate, and these pictures never see the light of day, plus I’ll help you out. Don’t cooperate, and the photos go out to the Internet, wire services, and TV entertainment shows in all fifty states. Your choice.” “And how do you suggest I get this information?” “Fuck Margot’s assistant, Jane. She’s always had the hots for you.” “All right, I agree. What assurances do I have that you will keep your word?” “You don’t. But then again, why would I compromise an enterprise that will be profitable for both of us? Oh, and one more thing. Rumor has it that the brat is working on an album. I want his schedule every time he goes on the road.” “Why?” “That, my dear, is none of your fucking business.”

****

Liam started work on a new album eighteen months after the collapse of Shattered Glass. It took another year before he felt it ready for release. He called Sam and e-mailed him a demo copy of the CD. Twenty minutes later, Sam got Liam on his cell. “It still needs a bit of studio work, but I think we can release it in the fall. If we can manage that, it will be eligible for awards season.” “Seriously, I’m not looking for any awards. I just want to be left alone to write my music.” “If I produce this album, you will have to go on tour. Can you handle that?” “Yes. I’ve spoken to my shrink, and she thinks it’s a good idea. You know, time to get on with my life. I’m almost twenty-four years old. It’s about time I started taking care of business.” “You have plenty of money. With what Lily left and what the band made, you never have to work again if you don’t want to.” “I need to work. I have to have something in my life that’s mine, something no one can take away from me. I can’t depend on other people to prop me up. I have to be my own reason to live, and what gives me that reason is the music.” Sam laughed. “Good for you. Okay, I’m buying. Call Margot to arrange the extra studio time, and I’ll set up a production schedule and a promotional tour.” “Thanks, Sam. I appreciate the break and the friendship. I can’t erase the past, but I promise you, if you

need me, I’m here.”

****

Milo read the copy ofSizzle in his hand.

Sam Stein Productions is quietly readying a studio for the finishing touches on a new solo album from Liam O’Shea, former lead singer of the now-defunct megaband, Shattered Glass...

It hurt. Liam had moved on without him. His baby didn’t need Milo as much as Milo needed him. In the years since that fateful day, Milo had been shattered by the realization that he’d become his father. Unlike his mother, Liam didn’t take his shit, and he left. Since that day, Milo spent every hour making an effort to make himself into a man worthy of Liam’s love. He wrote letters, sent e-mails. The letters always returned, unopened, the e-mails probably floated somewhere in cyberspace. Milo felt miserable without him. He knew where Liam lived, but his house had heavy security. A gatehouse had been built at the edge of the property. Absolutely no one ever got in, and Liam almost never went out. Now Liam finally emerged from his cocoon and Milo had to find out through a damned rag. Milo needed to know why his supposed best friend hadn’t told him. “Stein here.” “I know that, I called you,” Milo said. “You’re producing an album for Liam and didn’t bother to tell me? I’m in New Mexico, not Tibet. Did you think I wouldn’t hear about it?” “No. I honestly didn’t think the topic would hold any interest for you after all this time.” “Sam,” Milo said in exasperation, “of course he still interests me. I love him. I found his address and sent letters. I don’t have his phone number. You knew I wanted to talk to him. Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t tell you because Liam needed to heal. Some real heavy shit happened after you flitted away to the southwest. Don’t ask me what, because it’s privileged information.” “Privileged information? Fuck, I raised him, he was my lover, you are my best friend. What privileged information?” “Lawyer-client privilege. I won’t compromise my ethics, even for you.” “Can you at least tell me if he’s okay?”

Sam sounded angry. “Why do you care? Where were you when Rick and I picked up the pieces of the mess you left behind? You never even let him explain.” “Did he ever explain to you?” “He didn’t have to. I told you in the beginning not to lose that hot temper of yours and do something irrevocable, yet you didn’t listen. He never told me the full story, and I did him the courtesy of not asking. He’s moved on.” Milo’s voice dropped. “I miss him. I think about him every day. The evidence was damning, but I should have at least listened to his side.” “Damn right you should have.” “Can you help me see him?” Sam sighed. “No. I won’t help you hurt him again. I don’t want him falling into the same trap when he worked so damned hard to get out. If you’d trusted him, this whole damn thing wouldn’t have happened.” Sam sighed again. “And don’t think I am unaware of the part I played in this mess. I stood aside and let you break him into pieces. I refuse stay on the sidelines and watch the same debacle twice. He’s not ready to face you. I don’t know if he will ever be.” “Are you telling me you are going to deliberately keep us apart?” “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I won’t help you break his heart again. I’m begging you to give the kid some breathing room. He needs to know he can make it on his own before you come charging in and take over again. He’s not a baby or a boy any longer, he’s a grown man of twenty-four who has seen way too much sorrow. Give him time.” “I’ll listen to you now because I didn’t listen then, but I won’t wait forever. I have a feeling he needs me as much as I need him. We are two halves of the same soul. Eventually we will have to come together.” Sam laughed harshly. “Since when did you become so spiritual?” “I guess it’s something about the air here. You look around you and think of a greater presence. Can I at least call you to find out how he’s doing?” After a long pause, Sam finally said, “Yeah, I guess I can give you that much.” “Thanks.” “You know, this is one time I hate being right.”

****

Two years earlier, after six months of guilt over what he did to Liam, Milo removed himself from the

house where everything reminded him of his lost love. He packed a bag, got into his Lexus, and just drove. In New Mexico, tooling down Interstate 25 with no real destination in mind, he blew a tire. He called AAA and sat down on the hood to wait. Across a stretch of land, about a mile or two off the highway, stood what looked like an old Moorish castle. It possessed a stark beauty in the desert landscape. When the tow truck arrived, Milo asked the driver about the building. The site contained a hotel and casino run by a local Native American Pueblo. The driver looked at the wheel and told Milo he damaged the rim, and a replacement would have to be ordered from the local Lexus dealership if he wanted the new one to match the others. Milo nodded. “Fine, do it. Can you drive me over to that hotel?” He opened the door of his battered truck and said, “Sure thing.” The hotel and casino turned out to be first class. Milo reserved a suite for an indeterminate stay, booked a rental car, and began to look around. He haunted the Pueblo shops while admiring the handcrafted jewelry and pottery. Milo immersed himself in the history and ecology of the area. The desert air felt clean with no humidity, and there wasn’t an ocean anywhere to remind him of what he lost. He decided to stay. The mechanic turned out to be the brother of Conchita Ramirez, the housekeeper assigned to his suite. In a week’s time, Milo hired her away from the casino and they started to house hunt. He found a perfect property with over twenty acres and several out-buildings in the Sandia Foothills, just outside of the reservation. It needed renovating, but Milo possessed time in abundance. In fact, time was all he had. Two years later, after coming to the Sandia Mountains, emotionally shredded and bleeding, the sun, the desert and its people healed him. He began to wonder more and more if he screwed up and got it all wrong as Sam maintained. Conchita knew his life history twenty-four hours after he moved into the house. As asked, she’d brought him his second bottle of tequila that day. Clucking her tongue, she sat him down at what she considered her kitchen table. Matching him shot for shot, she didn’t stop until the whole ugly story spewed from his mouth like vomit. “For such a smart man, you acted as dumb and stubborn as a jackass. This boy of yours, did he ever lie to you before?” “No, he didn’t. If anything he always told the truth, even when the truth became painful.” “So,” she said, looking him straight in the eye from across the table. “Why would he suddenly start?” “I thought it was the drugs.” “Did he exhibit any signs of drug abuse? There are always signs,mi amigo , uncharacteristic behavior, missing money or jewelry. You say you took care of the money. Did he ask for large sums and then have nothing to show for it?”

“No.” “Did you know anyone with a vendetta against the boy, anyone you could see he disliked or feared?” “Yes, I think…” He groaned. “No more. My head is pounding.” Even though she drank as much if not more than he did, Conchita rose from her chair, steady as a rock, and hand-washed the glassware without a single mishap while Milo could barely stagger up the stairs. That was two years ago and Conchita had not let up since. He purchased Liam’s new CD and played it constantly, while Conchita made braying noises and pantomimed floppy ears and a tail, muttering jackass under her breath. Milo could hear Liam’s journey through his music. It felt as if someone sucker-punched him in the gut. Had he been that cruel, that mean? In his more honest moments, he admitted he had. Milo never asked Conchita why she mocked him. He knew. Whether Liam cheated or Milo wronged him beyond all imagining, he hadn’t taken the time to listen. Through the years and the stages of Liam’s growth, Milo felt the burden of guilt. Milo knew how to pretend. He recognized himself as an accomplished liar, his existence a fabric woven of deceit and prevarication. He remade himself to conform. Every hot girl in school chased him, but Milo knew everyone he dated acted as arm candy. He couldn’t trust them. No, Milo never let down his guard and only indulged his real passions alone, at night, in his head and with his hand. Milo became an accomplished liar. He hadn’t trusted Liam because he didn’t trust himself. Finally, in desperation, he called Sam. Liam had been in trouble, and he’d sulked in a corner. He’d hurt the one person in life he’d sworn to cherish. Now all he could do was wait until Sam declared Liam ready to face him again. And as Conchita so often told him, life did not come with guarantees.

****

Rick met Bart at the same sleazy bar once a month. Rick tried to skip out on him twice in the past year, but a picture of Liam, raped and beaten, appeared in his mailbox the next day, so he went back. Rick told himself he did what he did to protect Liam. The kid was still fragile, on both antidepressants and sleeping medication. Rick convinced himself that he couldn’t take the chance. This sort of publicity would kill the kid, and he refused to be responsible for that on top of all the other misery he’d already caused him. “I heard Liam is going on tour,” Bart said as soon as he took the stool next to Rick’s. “Yeah. He has a new album.” “Is it any good?” “Actually, it’s great. Sam says it’s a shoe-in for a Grammy.”

“Did you bring the schedule?” “I did, but if you so much as lay a finger on Liam, I don’t give a shit what happens to me, I’ll go to the cops.” “I won’t lay a finger on him,” Bart replied. “Won’t have to.” “Here, the schedule, the latest news for the rags, and now I’m going home. I don’t like the stink of this place or the company.” Rick got off the bar stool. “Whether you like or dislike the stink or the company, you’ll be back to protect little Liam. I wonder what he and your smart ass brother would think if they knew who really caused the breakup of the band?” Rick looked Bart in the eye and replied in a steady voice, “I know I’m guilty. I know what drove me. The question is what drives you? One of these days, I’m going to find out, and then we will see who controls who.” Rick turned on his heel to leave. “In your dreams, little man. You can’t even stay off the needle, much less remain straight enough to dig into my business,” Bart shouted after him. In tears, Rick walked out of the bar. He knew it to be true. He owed his dealer thousands, and he didn’t know where to turn. The only one he hadn’t asked for money was Milo. Maybe Milo would help him in exchange for a little information about Liam. But Sam said that for Liam’s sake they needed to be kept apart. Maybe I can feed Milo information and keep them apart at the same time.

****

Liam felt scared. In the beginning came the letters. They arrived at regular intervals, telling Liam all about Bart and Milo’s relationship. He refused to ask Sam or Rick if it were true because even if it wasn’t, it was no longer his business.God, I wish I could convince my heart of that. Danny traveled with him as his road manager. Liam often wondered what Milo would make of that. I know what he would make of it. He would take it as further proof that I am and always was a cheat and a liar. He knew he couldn’t continue to run his life on his beliefs of what Milo would think. In the years since the fight, Milo hadn’t tried to contact him. No letters, no calls, no messages passed through Sam or Rick. Nothing. Liam considered that proof of what Milo thought. Milo would never trust him or anyone else. Maybe Bart can live with that. I know I can’t. Since he began the tour, the letters escalated into more gifts—dead flowers, a plastic container of dog shit. All of the gaily wrapped gifts were left as tributes backstage for his arrival. When Danny found out,

he banned all tributes from Liam’s dressing room and begged Liam to contact the police. Liam refused, unwilling to even discuss the incidents. The gifts didn’t arrive at the next two stops on the route, but at the third, a box of dead scorpions showed up in the hotel room. After that, Liam quietly disposed of the packages, telling no one of their existence. The evening of the scorpions, Liam called Sam. “How’s the tour going, kid?” “Fine,” he lied. “Who has my tour schedule?” “Tour schedules are published in all the trades. How do you expect anyone to buy tickets if they don’t know you’re going to be in concert?” “Do you publish a list of my hotels?” “No, of course not. That’s kept here at the office.” “Would you mind very much if I made my own arrangement next time?” “Too many fans showing up?” “Yeah, too many fans.” Thank God the tour will be over in three weeks, Liam thought as he popped a sleeping pill.I really need to see Patricia.

****

Rick called Milo three weeks after his last confrontation with Bart. Someone beat the shit out of him once already for being late with his payments, and he desperately needed cash. He heard the phone ringing on the other end. Milo’s housekeeper answered. “Stamis residence. To whom am I speaking?” “This is Rick. Would you tell Milo I need to talk to him?” He heard her shouting at the other end. “Milo, Rick is on the telephone. He’ll be right with you.” Milo picked up the phone. “Rick, I’m surprised to hear from you. What’s going on?” Rick took a deep breath. “I’ll be up front. I’m in trouble and need some money, fast.” “Who do you owe, and how much?”

“I owe the Jersey mob, man. It will take at least ten grand to get them off my back,” Rick said brokenly. “Drugs?” Milo asked with a hiss. “Yeah.” Milo fell silent on the other end. Rick feared he’d hung up. “If I give it to you, will you tell Sam and go back to rehab?” “Yeah, this time I will.” There was a short silence, then Rick added, “I don’t know if you’re interested, but I spoke to Liam.” Milo cautiously asked, “How is he?” “He’s on the road, but should be home in two weeks. Danny Hobbs is stage managing the tour.” Milo’s voice went flat. “Oh. Hobbs is still around?” “Yeah, but he only came back when the tour started. Didn’t see much of him before that. Sam and I mostly took care of Liam when he got sick.” Milo’s voice changed again, this time caution masking obvious worry. “I didn’t know he was ill.” “Oh yeah, big time. He’s still on antidepressants and sleeping meds, although his doctor is trying to wean him off. He can’t go on stage without them.” “Thanks for the update. I’ll wire you twenty, but you have to tell Sam.” “Sure thing. And thanks.” Rick hung up the phone, satisfied with himself. He got the money and warned Milo away from Liam at the same time. He’d call his bank and tell them to expect the transfer. He would be able to pay his dealer on account tomorrow, and maybe get something to get him through tonight.

****

As soon as Milo got Rick off the phone and made the wire transfer, he called Sam. “Stein—” “Never mind the bullshit. Rick’s in trouble. I just wired him twenty grand. He owes the mob. You need to get him into rehab, fast. I think he owes more than he’s telling.” “Son of a bitch. Why didn’t he call me?”

“Maybe because he’s ashamed.” “If I ever find the bastard who got him hooked, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.” “Sam, Rick told me that Liam’s on meds.” Sam let out an exasperated sigh. “I can’t tell you the details, you know that. He’s under strict medical supervision. Believe me when I say he needs them. He’s fragile, I told you that.” “Rick also told me Hobbs manages his tour.” “Jesus Christ, Milo. Look, Hobbs is managing his tour because Hobbs is the only one I trust to take care of him. If Hobbs wasn’t there, Liam would forget to eat and just generally let himself go.” “Are they sleeping together?” “Damn it, you are a fucking jackass. I’ve been up against prosecutors who didn’t ask the questions you do. If you are still looking for evidence to prove to yourself you’re right, then you have no business asking about Liam. You left him behind years ago. What entitles you to know his personal business?” “I still love him.” “Talk to me when you can prove it,” Sam yelled before he hung up on him.

****

Conchita stood at the entrance to the office. Obviously, she was eavesdropping. “Mr. Milo,” Conchita said, “if you want your man back, the first thing you need to do is dump the phony machismo. You should show what you feel, not hide it behind your man of mystery persona.” She used air quotes around the phrase. “If you used that as your stage persona, off stage, you need to be real, son. This business of keeping everything you think and feel to yourself is what got you in trouble with your man the first time.” She stepped into the office. “So now, you are suspicious again. What did you leave him with? Jackass. I’ve listened to you whine for years. You left that boy with nothing and no one. If he has a friend watching his back on the road, you should be glad he has someone. Obviously, he doesn’t have you.” She wagged her finger at him. “You threw him out with the garbage. You need to do some hard thinking about what you want and what’s best for that boy you claim to care so much about.” Conchita stomped down the stairs. Milo laid his head down on his desk and began to sob.

****

Six weeks after the end of Liam’s tour, Sam received two strange requests on an already off-kilter day. He’d hauled Rick off to Betty Ford after paying an additional seventy grand to the mob, in addition to what Milo sent. Liam called with the first request. He insisted Sam stop by and see him so he could change his will as soon as possible. The second came from Milo. He’d written a book of poetry and asked Sam to shop it around to publishers for him. On the first page, Milo’s dedication read,To Liam, my Sun . Sam gave it to Margot to handle. He was too disgusted to read it. Sam felt like he carried the earth on his shoulders, and unlike Rand’s Atlas, he couldn’t shrug. If he’d been taking care of business, his brother and his friends wouldn’t have made such a mess of their lives. He’d been too ambitious and blind to anyone’s concerns but his own. Christ, my own brother went to Milo for help before he came to me. What kind of man does that make me? He kept abreast with Liam’s sessions with Patricia. She obtained Liam’s permission to discuss some of the issues with Sam, especially those related to his music. Like Sam, she was hog-tied by confidentiality, and could only discuss things for which Liam gave his permission. Liam’s request to change his will seemed out of character. Liam usually let Sam handle all his financial matters. He hadn’t worried about any of this since he left Milo, although Sam brought it up several times. Now, all of a sudden it became urgent. He called Patricia, and she assured Sam that Liam was not suicidal. So what got him thinking of his death and its implications? Sam felt troubled as he pulled into Liam’s drive that night. It was the first time since the night Rick pulled Liam out of the bathtub that Sam went to the house. Liam did most of his business over the phone or e-mail, and only came to the office to sign paperwork that needed to be witnessed. Sam rang the bell. Liam answered the door right away, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt that had seen better days. The air in the house held a distinct chill, with dust-covered boxes still piled in the same places as he remembered from two and half years before. “Come into the studio. I only use it and the kitchen regularly.” Sam followed Liam into the studio. “Sit down. I’ll make a pot of coffee.” Liam padded off barefoot to the kitchen. Sam saw a space heater in the studio and it felt warmer than the rest of the house. Although the room had three bay windows, heavy draperies blocked the light. In one corner of the room stood a fold-out bed with sheet and a quilt thrown over the top. Liam didn’t live, he existed. Over on a shelf near the keyboard Sam saw three framed photographs. The first was Milo, taken on his eighteenth birthday. The second, a photo of Liam, Danny Hobbs, and a woman he didn’t recognize, standing next to an obviously sick boy lying in a hospital bed. The kid’s bald head probably meant chemo. The third frame held one of the first publicity shots taken of Shattered Glass. Sam looked and saw nothing else in the room of a personal nature, except a few clothes just back from the dry cleaners hanging on the doorknob. Sam struggled to hold back his tears. This is what he and Milo did to Lily’s boy, the boy they promised to love and care for. Not a pretty sight.

Liam returned with two mugs of coffee. He even remembered how Sam took his. “I need you to write me up a new will.” “Okay. Do you know what you want?” Sam sat on the only available chair and took out his legal pad. “Yes. I’ve thought about it a lot. I have you down as next of kin on all my medical records. I hope you don’t mind, there was no one else,” Liam said in a small voice as he sat down on the battered rug. “Since when would I mind something like that? We’re family.” “I’ve caused you and Rick a lot of grief. I came between you, just as I came between you and Milo. I can only explain my behavior by telling you I didn’t do it deliberately, but that is no excuse.” “Liam, what happened to us wasn’t your fault. Most of the burden is mine and Milo’s to bear. You and Rick became victims of our egos.” “Thank you for that, but I’ve already accepted my own misdeeds and even if you count them smaller than I do, I still need to beg your forgiveness.” Then Sam did something out of character. He beckoned Liam closer and pulled him in for a hug. The kid backed away, and took what Sam thought was a surreptitious wipe at the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand. “Anyway,” Liam continued, “I have to change my will to make sure some people are properly taken care of should something happen to me.” “Go ahead,” Sam said in a gentle voice. “I know that I have twenty million dollars in assets. At least, that’s what your accountant told me when last we spoke. I want two million of that sum set aside in trust for Jimmy Hobbs, Danny and Nora’s son. I don’t want Danny and Nora to have to worry about the bills for Jimmy’s cancer if I’m gone.” “Hold on there a moment. What the hell do you mean?” Liam’s mouth set in a stubborn line. “I mean what I said. Jimmy has cancer.” He pointed to the picture of the sick boy. “I’ve been helping Danny and Nora with the bills. I went down to John Hopkins in Baltimore with them when Jimmy was first diagnosed, on the day of the…” He hesitated. “On that day. That’s where I went, to help them get to Baltimore.” He took a deep breath. “If something happens to me, they’ll need cash. The insurance doesn’t pay for experimental treatment, even if it works.” Sam stared at him, stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me this? We all could have helped and you would have set Milo straight.” “I tried twice to tell him, he wouldn’t listen. Besides, if it wasn’t Danny it would have been someone else. Bart did a good job with his poison tongue. It doesn’t matter now, to anyone.” “It matters to me. Hobbs is an employee. Don’t you think I might have wanted to help? Keeping this kind of secret is wrong, Liam.” “Whatever. It doesn’t make a difference now anyway. I want an additional million to go to Danny and

Nora outright. They have been good friends to me, and I’d like them to have something to remember me by should I pass. The rest of it should be divided three ways, among you, Milo, and Rick, with Rick’s in trust with you as the trustee until he gets his head on straight. The three of you raised me and took care of me when I had no one else. You deserve more than I could ever give you for that. “I want any viable organs to be donated. As for the rest, just have me cremated and my ashes spread in the Atlantic. My music is my legacy. I want no pilgrims at my grave. Can you do this for me?” Liam stood and walked to the other side of the room and shuffled some papers. “I can do anything you want, but are you sure about this?” Sam’s voice cracked as he wrote some notes on his pad. “Yes. I’m positive.” He paused, tuned to face Sam, then asked, “How is Rick?” “I finally got him into Betty Ford. I’m hoping this time it will take.” “I feel so guilty about that.” Liam turned to Sam, his eyes downcast. “Why would you feel guilty?” “Danny told me Bart dealt dope to Rick years ago. They threatened me, and I was too afraid of losing you and Milo to tell you at the time.” “What made you afraid?” Sam asked, inwardly seething at yet another burden Liam borne in silence. “The band meant everything to Milo. Bart said if I told, the band would break up and it would be my fault. I guess I managed that anyway,” Liam said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Listen to me. Rick is my brother. I should have noticed he was hopped up. Milo should have listened to you when you told him about Bart’s threats. It wasn’t your fault.” “So Patricia tells me. I’m happier now that you have forgiven me. I only wish that I could beg the same from Rick and Milo.” “Liam, I was never angry at you. Is there something you aren’t telling me, something I should know?” Liam looked away. “No. Nothing to concern yourself about.” “Are you sick?” “No, I’m as healthy as a horse,” Liam insisted. “Then why are you suddenly concerned about your will?” “It’s just time, that’s all.” “Liam—” If you don’t mind, if you’re finished with your coffee, I’ll see you out. I’m almost finished with the music for the second album. It should be ready for the studio in six weeks.” Liam walked over to Sam, making it obvious he wished him to leave.

“Okay, I’ll do as you ask. But, please, do me a favor, stop blaming yourself for the band, for Rick, for everything. Talk to Patricia. She’s right, you know. You are not personally responsible for our collective bad decisions and judgment.” Sam took his legal pad and put it in his briefcase. “I promise.” Liam gave Sam a hug. “Oh, before I leave, have you decided what to do about the Grammies yet? You have multiple nominations. You should make an appearance.” “Will Milo be there?” “Probably, although I’m not sure.” “Then I can’t go. I made a promise that I won’t break.” “To whom?” “Milo. That day, he said he’d kill me if he ever saw me again. I swore I’d never cross his path again. If he wants to see me, he can find me. Otherwise, I’m done torturing myself over him.” Liam walked Sam to the entrance. Sam shook his head as Liam let him out the door. Both of them acted miserable. Should he keep them apart or bring them back together? Maybe he needed to talk to Patricia.

Chapter Ten

“Lies”

Nothing but lies Lies, so many lies, they rain down from the skies Truth is never found while your head goes round and round Sorting lies that disguise the false words from the wise Help me ‘fore I drown and go down from the sound of Lies, so many lies, that I never heard his cries And now I found, I know the sound, but I am bound

To suffer for believing lies, so very many lies, their lies

—Milo Stamis,Words Without Music , 2005

****

Sam made out Liam’s will, and made sure it was signed and witnessed before the end of the week. He could do that, at least, for Liam. As for Bart Hedge, Sam had acquired enough connections in the industry to make sure he never worked again. Every agent, producer, and record company knew that booze and drugs contributed to loss of profit and a drain on talent. They couldn’t stop it, but blacklisting a mediocre drummer with a reputation as a drug dealer could be easily accomplished by dropping a few words in the right ears. Rick spent two months at Betty Ford when Sam got a call that his brother signed himself out of treatment. He holed up somewhere in California, and Sam hired a private investigator to find him. To finish off a miserable week, Sam received a courier package containing a dozen lewd photos taken of Liam the night he tried to commit suicide. The photos told Sam a different story than the one he always believed from the scuttlebutt he’d heard through various sources. The close-up shots suggested Liam was drugged and raped and not a willing participant in what happened that night. The typewritten note that accompanied the photos demanded hush money to keep the photos out of the rags. Sam spent days on the phone calling editors. He explained that Liam was raped, and his rapist resorted to extortion. This kind of smut was generally embargoed by the media and the victim’s name protected. To his own amazement, he succeeded. There were no leaks. Liam had more friends in the industry than he knew. Meanwhile, he reported the incident to the police, but Liam proved unwilling to come forward and the trail ran cold. The police could do nothing without physical evidence and a willing witness. Sam thought Liam knew more about who did this than he said, but he couldn’t convince him to cooperate. As soon as he assured himself that nothing untoward would come from the press, he called Liam. “This is Sam. I just took care of one of the things that I believe worried you the last time we met.” “And that was?” Liam asked his voice shaking. “The pictures. You never have to worry about them again.” “Thank you! I don’t know what to say. I didn’t want Milo to see them, and I always feared they would eventually turn up.” Sam leaned back in his chair and put Liam on the speaker phone. “It’s over now. No worries. I have three Grammies with your name on them, waiting at the office for you to pick up.”

“You keep them. Put them in your display case to impress your clients. I have nowhere to put them anyway.” “Your call.” Sam shook his head. As long as Liam stayed in seclusion, he would continue to live half a life. “Thanks again for taking care of the photos. You do so much for me. I’m grateful. I really am.” “No need, bro. That’s what family’s for.” “Have you heard from Rick?” “No, but I have someone looking for him.” Sam leaned forward, the mention of his brother making him tense. “If there is anything I can do to help, just let me know.” “Just concentrate on the tour for the new album. About the arrangements, are you sure you don’t want to take Danny with you?” “I’m sure. It’s only me and the acoustic guitar. His son needs him right now. Anyone you hire for the crew will be fine. Just be sure I’m staying at a separate hotel than the crew and no one has my itinerary but you.” “Fax it to my personal line.”

****

Liam faxed his itinerary as requested. Margot was out to lunch when it arrived. Jane took it out of the machine, discreetly made a copy, and put it in her purse before putting the original back in the fax tray. Her new boyfriend, Bart, would appreciate the gift.

****

The New York Tribune, November 23, 2008

Police found the body of twenty-four-year-old Jane Waters in an alley near her Soho apartment this morning, stuffed in a Dumpster. She worked for Stein, Ltd., the talent agency on 73rd street in Manhattan. When contacted, her employer said that Jane was an exemplary employee with no next of kin. As a token of their esteem, Mr. Stein will pick up all the expenses of a funeral and her interment. The police have no leads in the case…

****

Sam released Liam’s second solo album,Just Liam , only eighteen months after the first. The music’s tempo and mood indicated a complete departure from everything he did before. The songs were down-tempo, without backup singers. Any backup tracks necessary, Liam laid down in his own voice. As the album name indicated, for the tour it was just Liam, his guitar and his piano on stage, and the audiences went wild. “How is the tour going?” Sam asked him on the phone. “I don’t like you being out there in a hotel by yourself.” “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. How’s Rick?” “He’s in his third program this year. He’s not too healthy, either. The doctors are running tests. He’s in John Hopkins, at Danny’s recommendation.” “Thanks for hiring Danny on, Sam.” “He’s been worth his weight in gold with the equipment at the studio. I don’t think I’m going to let you have him back. Will you be home for the Grammies?” “No. I told you before, I made a promise to Milo. I intend to keep it. This way, I don’t have to see him with someone else and he doesn’t have to be reminded of me.” “It’ll be hard to placate the awards people a second time. I know you have a four-week break in the tour.” “Tell them the doctor insists on bed rest for exhaustion. That will shut them up.” “That may fly with the committee, but not with the trades.” “I’m truly sorry, but I can’t do it,” Liam answered sadly. Sam sighed. “Okay. I’ll do the best I can to fix it up.” “If you need me to go to Rick, just call.” “I will, kid. Keep safe.” Liam heard the phone click in his ear. If Sam only knew that was what he was trying to do, keep safe. Sam thought he had taken care of everything when he kept the pictures out of the paper. It did give Liam some relief to know that they wouldn’t be splashed all over the nightly news, but Liam’s main concern had always been Milo. He couldn’t bear to have Milo see him like that, with his butt dripping seed from someone else. Liam would die if Milo knew the depths of depravity he plumbed after their breakup. His stalker’s gifts got more ominous. He couldn’t figure out how anyone knew his schedule. Yet last

night, an assassin’s cord in a box waited for him at the hotel. He hadn’t even known what the cord represented. He looked it up on the Internet. Now along with the packages came notes. This one asked, “How will you die?” He suspected they came from Bart, but he didn’t know why or how. He would need an extra pill to get to sleep tonight.

****

Again Liam’s album, nominated for several Grammy Awards, swept the major categories. His single, Razors to the Heart , won Record of the Year, Best Male Pop Vocal, and Song of the Year. The album, Just Liam , won Album of the Year and Best Pop Vocal Album, for a total of five Grammy awards. He avoided the second award ceremony, just as he did the first. Milo watched from the audience as Sam gave Liam’s acceptance speech. He recognized the speech as having been written in Liam’s voice. Sam told the audience that Liam was seriously ill. Everyone expressed their sympathy and gave their wishes for a speedy recovery. Milo spent the plane ride home from Los Angeles silently going crazy. Sam wouldn’t tell him what kind of illness, other than what he told the press. “I’m sorry. I’m not authorized to give out any more information. Anything else would have to come from Liam himself.” “Aren’t I listed as next of kin on his medical forms? As next of kin, I demand to know who is treating him.” Milo,” Sam said, angry now, “you haven’t been listed as Liam’s next of kin for the last six years. I am. You have no rights here. Go home.” Then Sam walked away, leaving him standing in the auditorium. He sat in first class, numb. The plane was less than half-full. The only other passenger in first class sat in the opposite row. What could be so terrible that Sam wouldn’t tell him? He didn’t even realize that tears ran down his face until the man across the aisle offered a handkerchief. He noticed the man was a priest. Father Sanchez proved an easy man to talk to. The priest changed seats to sit next to Milo. Milo began to talk and the words poured out. “I didn’t educate him properly about sex. I know the church believes homosexuality is wrong, but Liam and I, we were born that way.” “Not all of the church is as solid in that particular tenet as they would have you believe, son. Tell me about your Liam.” As the air miles sped by, Milo told Father Sanchez the whole story. “And now Father, he’s sick, and Sam won’t tell me what’s wrong with him. I’m so afraid. I thought we would always be together, but I threw him away.”

“Son, you are speaking of the twenty-one-year-old boy you remember. By my count, he’s twenty-seven and old enough, and from what you say smart enough, to have figured how to take care of himself.” Milo’s tears turned into sobs as the emotional meltdown took over. Every time he thought of the possible consequences of his fucking ego, he suffered a complete loss of control. The tears he tried to deny himself earlier flowed in earnest. Father Sanchez grabbed his hand, giving Milo the only physical comfort he could. They talked some more as Milo gradually calmed down. Father Sanchez shepherded a small parish in Bernalillo. Little did he know his small community gained a financial ally and powerful friend. As they deplaned, Milo asked the priest if he needed a ride back to the rectory. Father Sanchez politely declined, but gave Milo his card and suggested they talk again soon.

****

Upon Milo’s return, Conchita greeted him at the door with a newspaper in her hand. He took a quick look at the lead article and snapped, “I’ll be in my office. Please hold my calls.” Leaving his luggage at the door to collect later, Milo climbed the stairs to his fourth floor study. He grabbed a bottle of water from the small refrigerator, sat down at his desk, and began to read.

Liam Snubs the Grammies Again

Liam O’Shea, former lead singer of Shattered Glass and now a hot solo act, thumbed his nose at the Grammy awards for the second time in three years. His manager and former band mate, Sam Stein, accepted multiple awards for Liam, including Album of the Year and Best Pop Vocal. Sam explained in the acceptance speech that Liam stayed home on bed rest. However, this is the second ceremony that the reclusive rock star skipped. I didn’t ask Sam the Man, again, why Liam skipped the awards a second time. He has repeatedly refused to address the subject or speak about his former SG colleagues. This reporter has had enough of Mr. Stein’s frosty “no comments” to last a lifetime. However, when Sam speaks, the industry listens. He proved that there is life after rock and roll superstardom when he chucked his music career after Shattered Glass’ first four albums to study for the bar. His sanity was called in doubt for leaving one of the most successful musical ventures in rock history. However, Glass broke, and now Sam is raking in the cash serving as legal representation and management for some of the hottest recording artists in the business. As for Sam, a tall, broad-shouldered, good looking hottie who is determinedly single, if he ever gets tired of litigating and diva dramas, he can go back to drumming. Sam always had more style and verve than his replacement Bart Hedge who, after Glass fragmented, disappeared into well-deserved obscurity.

To the right of the op-ed piece on Liam was a glowing review for Milo’s book,Words Without Lyrics . The book debuted on three bestseller lists and currently occupied the number one spot on two of them. Milo spent the last year writing lyrics in his head and couldn’t find a collaborator who could put them to music that met the standards of his former collaborations with Liam. The kid, Milo thought with both anger and pride, beat them all. He recorded two albums still on the top-ten charts, which had also brought him seven Grammies between them. Milo spent two days stomping around his garden, taking his frustration out on the tumbleweeds, angry at Liam for skipping the Grammies, and at Sam for not telling him the truth. He decided to pay a call on Father Sanchez. The priest became the only person, besides Conchita, who Milo felt offered him any hope of redemption for the lost part of his soul. Milo needed the man’s sage advice. The small adobe church sat a few hundred feet back from the main thoroughfare in Bernalillo. Milo pulled the car into the church parking lot and looked around. Both the church and the adjoining rectory looked to be in a state of disrepair. Father Sanchez greeted him at the rectory door and offered him some coffee. Milo felt surprisingly at home in the priest’s small house. Despite his clerical garb, he seemed to be more open-minded than most of the men who populated the Catholic clergy. “Father, thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.” “I always have time for a friend, especially a troubled one. Please call me Esteban, or Steve, if you prefer.” “I see that the parish isn’t large, and the church and rectory are in need of repair. I’d like to make a contribution to the building fund, if you would accept one from me.” “The building fund is always in need of a cash infusion. I’m afraid that my parishioners are not doing very well in the current economic climate of greed. But, my son, you need not consider a contribution as a price for my friendship. That is my own to give and comes without a price.” “I’ve made more money than I know what to do with. Please consider me a friend of the parish. All I ask is for your prayers in return.” “Those you already have, my son.” “Esteban, I need someone to talk to about my situation. After some thought, I feel I may have judged my Liam unfairly. Even if I didn’t, I love him and want him back in my life.” “I believe you have been living a crisis of faith.” The priest held up his hand when Milo started to interrupt him. “No, hear me out. I’m not speaking of faith in God. You lack faith in those who surround you. You are a man of many secrets, my son, and some of those secrets prevent you from establishing a true connection to another, be it a man or a woman.” “I have been hiding what and who I am almost as long as I can remember. When I first began to show what my father called my ‘sissified tendencies,’ he beat both my mother and me almost bloody. I learned that night that I needed to live a lie to survive. My father has been dead now for some years. Even after

he died, I couldn’t bear to admit my sexual orientation. By claiming Liam, I dragged him into my own hell. He needed open affection and attention, and I hid in fear, afraid to acknowledge him as mine and meet his need to be a true partner.” “Your estrangement began when you found evidence of drug use and infidelity?” “Yes. But I’m no longer sure I can believe what I thought I saw right in front of me. And if he did use or cheat, I caused it by my neglect of both him and his needs.” “Did the boy ever lie to you before then?” “No. If anything, he always told the truth. He never lied. Lying was as abhorrent to him as it was to Lily, his mother. A child Lily raised would not be a practiced liar. Yet, I know that Sam lied for him at the Grammy ceremony. Sam and I are friends from the playpen. Liam couldn’t have been that sick. I’m positive Sam would have said something to me. He knows how I feel.” “Would Sam tell you something that Liam, his client, specifically asked him to withhold?” Milo carefully considered his answer. “Maybe.” “Is there perhaps another reason for Liam’s reluctance to be seen in public? To my eternal shame, I must admit I read the supermarket rags. I have never seen paparazzi photos of him at any of the clubs or other public events where celebrities congregate.” “You’re right. Rick said Liam pretty much keeps to himself.” “Was he always retiring?” “God no. I remember him as outgoing, friendly. He knew the name of almost every person in the band’s organization, and in our heyday we employed one hundred and thirty people.” “Then, my friend, you have some thinking to do. What would cause such a drastic change in his personality? And more to the point, are you willing to accept both him and yourself for what you are, wiping the slate clean no matter what the past held?” “You’re right. Thank you for being here and listening to me.” “You don’t need me. God will always listen, even if you have ignored Him for a lifetime.” Milo reached into his pocket and pulled out a check for thirty thousand dollars. “I hope this covers your repairs. I owe you more than I can say. I don’t know if I could ever become a real Catholic, but I would be honored if you would consider me a friend of your parish.” “This is far too much, but I will embarrass myself and take it. There is quite a bit of work that needs to be done for my people, so for them, I accept your generous gift. Don’t be a stranger. Even if I’m not your spiritual advisor, I want to remain your friend.” Milo shook his hand and took his leave. He had many issues to contemplate. It took two days for Milo to digest his new friend’s wisdom. He worked his garden and attempted to dig inside himself to find the source of his anger over the Grammy incident. On the second afternoon after his

visit to Father Sanchez, Milo pricked his hand with a cactus spine. He began to curse the cactus then stopped and realized that he blamed the cactus for his own carelessness. It was a defining moment. Milo realized the cause of his own anger. He suddenly understood that he caused the problem. Liam didn’t skip the Grammies because of illness. That afternoon came back to him with crystal clarity. He’d told Liam he never wanted to lay eyes on him again. Liam, being Liam, would take him at his word, avoiding any place where a face-to-face confrontation could occur.He was the reason Liam missed the moment when his peers recognized him as the best in the business.He was the reason that Liam passed on all the award shows. He sat down in the dirt and prayed for forgiveness to whatever God would listen. “Oh, Lord.” Milo rolled to his knees in the middle of the loose stone walkway. “If there is anyone up there, please pay attention to me now,” Milo begged out loud. “I’ve hurt and wronged someone I love and who once loved me. I need to make it right, not for me, but for him. He needs to know I believe him and that I am a fucking fool—excuse the last bit. Please, just find a way I can let him know. I won’t ask for him back, although I still love and need him, damn it. This time, though, it would be for him, like Sam and I promised his mother.”

****

Sam drove from LAX to the small motel in Los Angeles where his investigator had found Rick. He knew he represented Rick’s last chance at living clean and sober. The report from J.B. Investigations told him that his brother had contracted hepatitis, and his drug habit accelerated the inevitable. As he pulled into the parking space in front of room 17, he looked around, appalled at the condition of the residential motel. The area seemed a haven for junkies and gang bangers. Sam feared getting out of his car. However, his baby brother resided on the other side of that door. Sam screwed up his courage, exited his rental, and knocked. “Who’s there?” Sam recognized Rick’s slurred voice. “It’s Sam. Open up.” Rick opened the door. “You shouldn’t be here, Sam. I’m in enough trouble without worrying about what they’ll do to you.” “Who is they, Ricky?” Sam put his arms around an emaciated Rick, his brother’s arms and legs covered in sores. “Sammy, don’t touch me. I don’t want you sick. You shouldn’t be involved in all of this.” “Fuck that. You’re my brother.” “I’m so ashamed.”

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. I love you and I always will.” Rick led Sam over to a table set in a small kitchenette. It overflowed with empty soda cans, take-out boxes, and an ashtray with a mountain of cigarette butts. They sat. “You smoking now?” “Yeah, makes it easier to control myself between hits. Look, Sam, I owe a great deal of money to all the wrong people, an amount that can’t be easily found, even by you. Sooner or later they’re going to find me, just like you did. I refuse to bring you down with me.” “If I walked out that door without you, I would be lower than a snake’s belly. Come home with me. We’ll figure this out together.” Rick laughed, the sound harsh and discordant. “I’m into the mob for at least five hundred grand, although with the interest, I wouldn’t be surprised if the sum is closer to a mil. You don’t have that kind of cash. You’ve put me in rehab three times already this year and it hasn’t worked. Write me off, Sam. I’m a bad bet.” Sam rose up and grabbed Rick by the shoulders. “You are not and never have been a bad bet. You are still the best bass player in the recording business. You stood as a good friend to Liam. You saved his fucking life. If you felt taken for granted, perhaps you were, but not because you weren’t of value, but because you’d shown yourself to be dependable. Milo and I knew that when you went on stage, you knew your stuff. Christ, Rick, what happened? You could have gone on to another band.” Rick slumped back into the metal-backed chair. “Sam, I destroyed Shattered Glass.” “Jesus, Rick, I don’t care what you think about the past, and I don’t want to hear it. Shattered Glass is not what’s important to me right now. You are. We are going to work together to get you out of this mess. I’m going to make it all right again, the band, everything. I swear.” Three days later, Sam returned to his office. He enrolled Rick is an in-patient program at Redbrook, a rehabilitation center with facilities in both Pennsylvania and New Jersey, and a program specifically designed for the hardest cases who came in with medical problems caused by drug abuse as well as the addiction itself. It was expensive, but if it could save his brother, it would be worth it. He picked up the telephone to call Milo.

Chapter Eleven

“Brothers”

There was a war in this land

In which brothers raised their hands Against their brothers in the fields soaked in red Where the crops should have been Instead were planted men, kin killed by kin Like brothers who had never been Born to be brothers

—Liam O’Shea, February 2009(work in progress)

****

K.C. Dorsey’s Sound Tracks February 2009

A certain bass player, who lived a lush life when he was attached to his childhood buddies’ megarock band, is said to be in rehab again. It will be his fourth stay in a year. No one in the media has been able to scoop the location. The buzz, however, is that this time the Brilliant Bass Bad Boy has to give up his toys permanently, or he’ll be playing bass in Hell’s Own Band…

****

Liam was groggy with sleep when his cell phone awoke him at eight in the morning in the obscure bed and breakfast where he’d booked a room for the Chicago gig. He’d deliberately changed his itinerary twice since leaving New Jersey. As a result, he’d managed to outwit his stalker for the last two stops of the tour. “Liam, this is Sam.” “I knew it had to be you or Rick or Danny. You are the only three people who have this number. Have you found him?” “I guess you didn’t read the trades today.”

“No, after the concert I came to the hotel and crashed.” “Liam, I need your help.” Liam never knew Sam Stein to ask anyone for anything in his life. This had to be serious. He sat up in bed and pulled the phone closer to his ear. Now fully awake, he asked, “What’s wrong? Whatever you need.” “Don’t be so quick to agree. What I’m about to ask you will be hard, very hard, and I want you to speak to Patricia before you agree.” Alarmed now, Liam said, “Just tell me. No drama.” “Rick is in rehab again. First, I need money. He owed the mob somewhere near a million. That, plus the expense of another stay in rehab, has temporarily wiped me out. He’s very ill. The doctors tell me he doesn’t have long. What he wants the most is to see the band back together. He needs an incentive to stay clean. I want to provide him with that incentive. The band is only thing he ever really wanted, the only thing that really meant something to him.” Liam stood in silence for a moment. “The band?” “Yes, Liam, the band. The original band, just the four of us like it used to be before we all screwed it up so royally.” “And this would mean I would have to spend time with Milo. I don’t know if I can, Sam. I can’t listen to our old recordings without crying.” “Please, I need you to do this.” Liam sucked in a long breath. “Has Milo agreed?” “I asked him the same thing I’m asking you. I want to do a reunion album and maybe a short tour, small venues, four or five cities. I’m asking for a few new songs composed by you and Milo. The cities can be up to you and Milo, if you wish. The only catch is that Milo insists the two of you collaborate face-to-face at his home in New Mexico, with a minimum stay of two weeks, probably a month.” “Why does it have to be in New Mexico? I have a perfectly good studio in New Jersey.” “Liam, I’ve been to your house. You’ve been there since 2002, and you haven’t even unpacked the boxes you brought from Rumson. How are you going to host the three of us, especially since Rick may need special care? He saved your life. When I would have let you be, he forced you to accept his company and therefore kept you in the land of the living. Rick needs this and you can’t host it there. Please?” It hurt Liam to hear Sam beg, especially since he was right. Despite his faults, after the breakup Rick, and afterward Sam, had been his only contacts to the family he made for himself in Shattered Glass. He would talk to Patricia on how to deal with Milo, but he couldn’t refuse Sam. “I have two days more here in Chicago. Give me a few days to wrap things up at home and I’ll be

there.” “When, Liam? I need a date.” “It’s February twenty-eighth. I can be at Milo’s by March fourth, but I have a few conditions of my own. First, no significant others. I couldn’t take that. Second, I do my thing and leave until the tour.” “Thank you.” “No, thanks are necessary. We’re family, remember?”

****

Liam waited until ten that morning before he called Patricia. He wasn’t sure how to begin the conversation. After deliberation, he decided to give her the facts and let draw her own conclusions. “I usually don’t hear from you when you are on tour,” Patricia said. “What happened? Has the stalker situation worsened?” “I think he is getting more dangerous, and yes, I’ve got to tell Sam. There have been some additional unsettling developments.” He began to pace. “Tell me about them.” Liam’s voice dropped. “Rick is ill. From the way Sam sounded, he doesn’t have long.” “That must have upset you.” “There’s more.” “With that tone of voice, this has to be about Milo.” “Yes. Sam asked me to work with him. It would take a few weeks, and it would involve staying at his home.” “Do you want to do this?” “One of the reasons I continued to see you after the incident was to try to and rid myself of Milo’s ghost.” “All the therapy and happy pills in the world will not evict Milo’s ghost from your mind. This is something only you can do for yourself. There is no better way to exorcise a specter than to do it in person.” “I’m not sure what I want.” “How would it make you feel to see him again?”

Liam fidgeted with the top of the Coke can. “I don’t know.” “Do you want a relationship with Milo? Could you be in a relationship with Milo and not fall into the old patterns?” “I’m not the same person I was six years ago.” “Then again,” Patricia observed, “neither is he.” “I realize that,” answered Liam as he took a gulp of Coke. “Do you see this as an opportunity to test the waters?” “I love him. I never stopped. But I don’t know if he will be able to accept me after all that’s happened.” “Liam, you’ve grown up. It happens to all of us. If he wants the boy and not the man, then the relationship is not worth pursuing.” “I need him to trust me. I can’t go back without his trust.” “If he wants you, you get to set your conditions as well as hear his. You didn’t inherit Milo when your mother passed. You can choose to go another way.” “I can only go where my heart takes me.” He sighed. “I guess that means I’m going to New Mexico.” “Be sure to tell both Milo and Sam about the stalker. They have to know there is a possibility of danger.” “I promise, I will. I told Sam that I would do this for Rick.” “And?” “I was only kidding myself.” “Good luck, Liam.” “Thanks. I’ll call.” Liam flipped the phone closed and sat down with his laptop to plot a circuitous route to New Mexico, so he didn’t lead trouble straight to Milo’s door.

****

The New York Daily Reporter, February 2009

We got a tip that the former drummer of a defunct pop band, now the superstar agent to rock royalty, is burning up his frequent flyer miles between Newark and Albuquerque.

Fans know that the two principals of Shattered Glass live in those exact locations. Is an arrangement for a reunion tour in negotiation? Will someone who is both clean and sober for the first time in many years play the bass guitar? Will the agent become a drummer, or is he dickering at the behest of one of his stable? Maybe the former child star, a huge award winner this season, wants to dial for bigger dollars, grabbing a larger cut of the take if he agrees to lower himself to share the spotlight with his has-been band mates. Stay tuned for Rock My Life!

****

“What fucking bullshit!” Milo shouted. “He doesn’t need money, never did. Where the hell did they get this crap from?” Milo threw the paper across the room, picked up the phone, and called Sam. “I was just about to call you,” Sam said. “He’s coming. He’ll be in around the fourth.” “Don’t you know exactly when?” “No, I don’t. He makes his own travel arrangements.” “He arranges travel for a tour bus and roadies?” “He travels alone.” “What the fuck? How could you let him travel alone? You know what can happen. We even discussed it when Princess Diana died because of lax security.” “Milo, he insists on it. He’s a complete hard-ass about it. You want to tackle the issue, go right ahead. In the meantime, get ready for his visit. Remember, he’s fragile. Don’t go near him if you don’t want him forever.” “What the fuck aren’t you telling me?” Milo said through gritted teeth. “I’m not telling you a lot of things. Sometimes it’s better to listen to someone tell their own story. It forces you to actually hear what they’re saying, as well as observe their body language to see what they might be holding back.” “We’ll do it your way, even though I’m not happy with it. However, a new friend observed that I should be kinder and gentler to those around me. He’s probably right.” “I have to meet this friend of yours,” Sam observed with a chuckle. “Maybe you will. I’m going to have to tell Conchita so she can prepare the rooms. Shit, I only have three days!”

****

Liam arrived exhausted at the Newark Liberty Airport. Newark was snowed in by a freakish March nor’easter. When they finally dug out, Liam’s flight arrived at Newark at four a.m., too early to get on the next plane, too damn late to go home and get fresh clothing. Patricia would not be very happy about his schedule. She constantly nagged him about a regular bedtime, claiming he needed structure in his life to combat both his depression and his nightmares. He showered and shaved in the Frequent Flyer’s Club and put on his last clean underwear and jeans. He hoped his convoluted travel schedule would manage to elude his personal dark ghoul of the past six years. I’m going to have to tell Sam about the stalker. It’s getting too intense. His appearance didn’t concern him much anymore. He sat down in a lounge after politely asking one the attendants to wake him before his flight if he happened to fall asleep. It didn’t seem as if he slept long when the attendant shook his shoulder to wake him. A private messenger service had delivered a box that was waiting at the President’s Club desk. With shaking fingers, Liam opened the package wrapped in plain brown paper. He found a dozen dead, black roses. Jesus Christ, I hope I don’t lead this bastard to Milo’s door. Liam, in a state of unnatural calm, politely thanked the attendant and asked that she dispose of the box. He nervously looked around as he headed toward the terminal. I’ve got to stay calm, I can’t let him know I’m afraid. I won’t lead him to Milo. I’ll go to the reservations counter and ask the clerk to add another stop to my trip. I’ll be late but at least I won’t leave a trail. It hadn’t taken Sam long to convince Liam to go. I might have as easily said, I’ll cut out my heart and entrails and feed them to the buzzards, because that is exactly what is going to happen. Mentally, he shored up his sagging fortifications.I can’t be any worse off than I already am, can I? The first leg of the convoluted route he booked to Albuquerque was Newark Liberty to Cleveland. He arrived at the gate just as they called the last rows in economy and he flashed his boarding passes. He’d booked himself two first class seats for every leg of the flight. He had enough on his plate without having to indulge a chatty fan. Normally he loved the fans, aware that they gave him his bread and butter. However, this trip would be both physically and mentally abusive, and he felt he could allow himself a little slack just this once. He took seats two, A and B. Not as comfortable as the bulkhead seats, but he felt a lot less conspicuous in the second row and hugging the window than he would be in the first with every passenger noting his demeanor, so they could send a Tweet to the world.

He fell asleep as soon as he hit the seat. He managed the flight without a whisper. Of course, he couldn’t eat. Since all of the flights were of such short duration, they served snacks, not meals. Liam would arrive at Milo’s hungry and vulnerable. He hoped his flight arrangement, plus his lack of luggage and instruments, would throw the stalker off his trail. The guys in the band used to worry they would all go like Princess Di, being chased by crazed paparazzi. He hadn’t given it a thought back then, but now he lived with the threat every day. He hoped he’d fooled the ghoul. The last leg of the flight was a commuter jet, cramped and turbulent. He made it to the rental car counter, where the attendant handed him a gaily wrapped box as soon as he gave her his name. He opened it, collapsed into a nearby chair and valiantly controlled the urge to vomit. Two dead kittens had been carefully placed on red velvet, one white and one black. They looked about twelve weeks old. He barely contained his revulsion. The horrified manager removed the box from his sight and promised to take care of them properly. He tipped the man for his trouble. He asked Liam if he wished to lodge a police complaint. This time he said yes and gave them Milo’s address, took the car, and began the drive from the airport to the no longer loving arms that awaited his arrival. Now he knew he must tell both Milo and Sam about the stalker. He could no longer fight it alone since the stalker followed him to Milo. The pictures didn’t matter in lieu of Milo’s life. In his heart, Liam still believed he made a mistake. He retained no illusions as to what awaited him at the end of his journey. The New Mexico scenery soothed him. Newark Liberty’s weather had been hellish this morning. Now he looked upon dramatic blue skies and sunshine. He felt like he channeled paradise. His mind kept running on a single track. He remembered the last thing Patricia said before she hung up the phone. “Liam, I know you still want him. Whether getting him back is a good or a bad thing, I cannot say. Even so, I can tell you this—you need to trust each other. Maybe he didn’t trust you because of his own past.” I want to pound rocks, inflict pain on myself and on Bart because I instinctively know he is part of all of this. I can’t think. The idea of watching Bart and Milo together shook the outer calm he’d spent years attempting to cultivate. He sure as hell didn’t want to see Milo loving Bart Hedge, or Bart Hedge give him that snarky look that said,You could never play in my league, kid, so put up with me or go home to cry like the baby you are. Liam sure as hell didn’t want to witness intimate moments between the two. He knew they would turn memories of what he and Milo shared into sessions on a Inquisitor’s rack, with Milo comparing his performance and lack of skill to Bart’s expertise. His fist pounded into the steering wheel of the red Mini Cooper Sam leased for him. If this was to be the rest of his life, he might as well be dead or have Patricia order up a lobotomy so he couldn’t feel. It took everything in him not to try to crawl back to Milo and Shattered Glass initially. He couldn’t be near Milo and have to walk away again. His heart would not bear the pain.

Yet he traveled two thousand miles from the Jersey shore to do just that. He had to collaborate with Milo on one last set. Milo lived about fifteen miles northeast of the Albuquerque airport, in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains. Liam felt the trip up Interstate 25 almost too short, a high-speed road with no traffic congestion. The sky spread out as a bright blue canvas with a few puffy clouds, and the mountains to the east shone pink in the light. The landscape exploded in a riot of color. Trees, evergreen shrubs, purple sage, and even wildflowers bloomed on the side of the road. He took an exit near what appeared to be a resort set atop a bluff, and the signage called it out as one of the Native American casinos. It looked like a Moorish castle guarding a pass against the backdrop of the mountains. “In point-two miles, make a right.” The GPS voice startled Liam, knocking him from his reverie and reminding him how close he came to the end of his trip. Absently following the directions given by the squawking box, he found himself closer to Milo’s home than he anticipated. He thought he had more time to prepare himself. “Turn right in three hundred feet,” the GPS screeched. Liam turned right. “Arriving at destination,” it said. Liam knew the voice he heard came from a computer, but in his addled state of mind it sounded like she knew his dilemma and mocked him. He looked up through the windshield at the long drive. The house looked huge, all adobe and glass with carved pillars and lintels. Despite its size, it blended into the hillside of the mesa. A carved rock path lead to the entrance. The house sat on several levels with courtyards and porticos hung with lanterns, and greenery following the lines of the natural terrain. Liam had reached Milo’s aerie. The hillside terrain spread out before him landscaped with native plants. He recognized Aspen and cottonwood trees, as well as varieties of cypress and juniper and many types of cacti and flowering plants for which he didn’t have a name. His ex-lover always wanted a garden to tend, whether confined to a dish or spread out over the palatial estate they once shared in Rumson. This garden was a statement, it screamed Milo’s name. It shone with care and concern for the environment as well as beauty and grace. To anyone who knew Milo intimately, Milo’s personality reflected back from the plantings. Liam noted the garden looked different from any of the other gardens he watched Milo tend over the years. Seeing it gave Liam the courage and strength he needed to get out of the car. This garden looked to be designed and cultivated by a man who’d achieved some measure of peace with himself, as well as with who and what he was.

****

Milo Stamis was not a man at peace. He never felt so nervous in his life. He spent most of the early

evening before Liam’s scheduled arrival staring at the stars from beneath his portico. Handcrafted lanterns of hammered silver individually tooled with Native American designs lit the night with pooled reflections of the candles they held inside. The gurgling sounds of water cascading from a fountain designed with local rock attempted to soothe. Tonight, however, the sound of the water did not temper his troubled soul. Milo wandered the garden, eventually landing on a hand-carved bench, local work, done by a master in a classic New Mexican sun motif. Many New Mexicans adopted the stylized Native American sun as a fitting symbol for their Land of Enchantment. It nurtured them all, the original native peoples, the Spanish settlers, and the Johnny-come-lately Americans who, upon discovering the sheer magnificence of the landscape, never left. The bench was a one of a kind. Once he saw it, he had to have it. Eventually he’d sweet-talked the artisan into carving a complete bedroom suite for the house, along with the beams and columns. Milo surrounded himself with the sun motif. Tomorrow, Liam would arrive and Milo would face the confrontation destined to settle his fate. It would be his last chance to get it right, to find out what happened six years ago that drove his Liam straight into the roadie’s arms. Or not, said his inner voice, which became more insistent in the last year. Each time he imagined hearing the voice, tendrils of naked fear crept up his spine. He couldn’t have been wrong about Liam cheating. He saw it with his own eyes. Oh Christ, what if he misconstrued the scene he witnessed? Milo fidgeted, unable to settle. The sound of water always soothed his soul, but tonight it could not quiet the little voice that kept insisting Liam had always been innocent. It spoke circles around his head. The tinkling water did not make the voice go away, stop his erratic heartbeat, or prevent the sweat making his hands damp and clammy. His discussions with Father Sanchez brought him to the point where what took place no longer mattered, but he still needed to know. How could he change the behavior that drove his Liam to someone else, if he didn’t know what he did? I’m full of bullshit. I know what I did. I hid, I didn’t trust him out of fear for myself. I took the easy path and pretended indifference rather than to open up my soul to hurt. He gave me everything. I gave nothing. Sometime in the next twenty-four hours he would see Liam again. As he gazed at the stars, he realized that he needed to stop dissecting the past. This meeting would determine the future, and the future wouldn’t be found in recriminations and ruminations. He needed to find something to occupy his mind. Milo had deliberated over Liam’s infidelity for six years. He’d waffled between rage at his oh-so-guilty lover, and gut-wrenching panic that he’d made a mistake. Tomorrow, the time for deliberation ceased. He would have to ask the questions and face the answers he’d been too afraid to hear before. Milo flung himself off the wooden bench where he sat. He’d been angry and bitter when he arrived here in the high country years ago, yet he still clung to the illusion of Liam. Esteban told me that a man does not become a liar overnight. I’ve got to stop justifying my behavior. There is an explanation for the drugs, and the roadie. I was too pigheaded to listen. I’ve overcome a lot of anger in this place, now I have to overcome the shame that made me hold on to that anger for so long.

He was so lost in his memories Milo hadn’t even heard the garage door open or Conchita’s footsteps on the stairs. “Mr. Milo, stop pacing the garden and go get some sleep. You will be no good to either yourself or the young man when he arrives. I went over to the Walmart to make sure I got everything on your list. Peaches are impossible this time of the year. I went all the way over to the Sunflower Market to get them. And you better get me the elevator you promised when we bought this house. I’m getting too old for all this climbing,” she grumbled. “Conchita, stop. I’ll get the rest of the groceries.” Milo followed her down the stairs. “You wouldn’t have to get any of the bags if we put in an elevator or hired some extra help.” “Conchita, I love being honest and not having to hide who I am from you and your family. You are the first person I’ve trusted outside of the band to know I’m gay. I’m happy to employ your family, but I don’t need the extra people around right now.” “Go, shoo. I’ll make some cocoa with the cinnamon stick and thedulce le leche . You can take it up to your lair while I make sure everything is ready for tomorrow.” Milo put down the groceries. As he was about to leave the room, Conchita put her plump fingers on his arm. “You are a good man, Mr. Milo. Deep inside, he knows that too. He will forgive you if necessary, and you have already forgiven him a dozen times over for anything he may have done.” Milo nodded and tried for the hundredth time that day not to lose control and cry. He thought about what she said as he made it out of the kitchen. Conchita was a wise soul, he’d realized that when they first met. However, he didn’t head up the stairs. Instead, he wandered through the lounge area and out to the inner courtyard. It felt a bit chilly but he soon started a small blaze going in the chimera. Milo reached into a chest located next to the brightly cushioned chaise and grabbed a few of the warm throws he stowed throughout the gardens. He settled back onto the lounge and gathered their softness around his legs and torso. Milo forgot about the cocoa, but Conchita hadn’t. She brought it out and set it on the small side table, which remained hidden until pulled out from under the lounge. Milo closed his eyes and tried to regain his center. His hubris caused the breakup of Shattered Glass. That same pride and unthinking anger let loose drove away his love. He felt the tears start again. Milo had discounted Sam’s counsel about Bart’s shifty eyes. Liam said Bart gave him the creeps, and Milo had laughed. It turned out Bart kept secrets of his own. Sam had good reason for calling him shifty. He acted as Rick’s dealer and supplier, so convenient, so Johnny-on-the-spot. Only after the awards fiasco, when Sam called him about Rick, Milo’s mind turned to Bart and the pieces began to fall together. It was hard for him to bring his mind back to the present. The here and now no longer provided pleasant dreams. Every time he slept he felt like he faced execution, Liam telling him to go fuck himself. Milo stretched out his arm for the cocoa Conchita left and took a sip. It had cooled to lukewarm. He got up with the cup, intending to take it back to the kitchen, when it hit him. Father Sanchez said someone always listened.

“Lord, I’ll be straight with you. I want him back and I’ll do anything short of hurting him again to bring him home. Please help me.” With that abrupt prayer, Milo went to bed.

Chapter Twelve

“A River of Glass”

I sit and wait as I contemplate the arrival of my sun My heart’s alight with joy tonight For tomorrow, he shall come He brought the light that warmed the night Always the one, my love, my sun

—Milo Stamis, March 2009(work in progress)

****

As he had for the past few hours, Milo paced from the door to a chair in the entrance area. He spent quite a bit of time in prayer, a habit Milo only recently fell into with Conchita and Esteban’s encouragement. She told him, “You can talk to God, Mr. Milo. There is nothing hidden from Him, no secrets.” Milo would never be a churchgoer, yet he felt some comfort from his one-sided conversations with the deity. They gave him the illusion of control and the occasional feeling someone cared. In case I haven’t said anything, I know what You did for me, giving me this chance, Milo said to the heavens.I’ll try not to screw it up again. Milo heard a car pull into the drive. He listened as the engine stopped and waited for the tell-tale rasp of a car door opening. It didn’t come. Milo almost jumped out of the chair and ran to the door. He realized he could not be sitting there looking

like a predator awaiting his prey. If he did, Liam would react like a jackrabbit, turn tail, and run. Therefore, he waited. He bit his cheek. He picked at his cuticles. He got up and paced a bit. Ten minutes went by. It seemed like ten years. At eleven minutes, Milo was ready to go out and get him. Then it came, the rasp of the door opening, then the door slammed shut. He heard footsteps. The trunk opened. Milo listened carefully. One bag hit the pavers before the trunk closed. Liam remained one stubborn bastard. One bag meant he did not intend to stay for the full month they needed. Milo, used to thinking on his feet, grabbed his cell and called Sam. “He’s here.” “So?” “He doesn’t intend to give me the month,” grumbled Milo. “He told you this already?” Sam asked. “No, he’s not in the house yet.” “You’re reading minds now, or what?” “He only has one bag.” “Milo, don’t make a judgment until you have the facts. Give him time before your damn temper takes hold.” “He’s at the door. I’ve got to go.” “Be kind. To both of you.”

****

The front door was crafted of a gorgeous carved wood, hand polished to a high sheen. The master artisan who carved the door detailed the symbol of the sun that decorated so many of the homes Liam passed on the way to Milo’s. Even so, the symbols on this door were heavily inlaid and detailed. The exquisite design looked like a pictograph of the sun, and it showed all under it as fruitful and full of life. In the second panel, the sun hid and the land filled with sorrow. It took Liam aback for a moment. Milo always called him his sun, the bright light of his life. The door seemed new yet wore a patina of age, which made it remarkable. Liam shook his head.I’m imagining things, slapping significance on the mundane because I want to believe in miracles. Miracles don’t exist. Not for me. I can’t let him see how much I need him. I won’t be a charity fuck or a one-off.

Liam clenched his hands into fists, just as he had since childhood whenever he became upset or angry. His mouth tightened. He rang the bell. The door opened before the chimes ceased to ring, as if Milo sat in waiting on the other side. “Hi, how have you been?” Milo grabbed the duffel and yanked it into the foyer. The slight rasp of Milo’s baritone voice sounded the same as it used to. Liam closed his eyes, remembering Milo’s beautiful voice whispering love words in his ear as he took his body. He shook his head. He couldn’t afford to travel there, where all the wounds still lay, raw and bleeding, even after six years. To hide his unease, Liam turned his back to Milo and fixed his gaze on the steps below. It gave him the extra second he needed to regain his composure. “Fine. Just fine. The garden is beautiful. Did you do it all yourself?” Liam launched the opening salvo of an undeclared war. He didn’t want Milo to see his fear. Liam heard Milo’s harsh intake of breath, the signal he waited for. It was safe to turn back and face his former lover. Liam watched Milo’s face for a reaction. Although well masked, he noticed a grimace and a slight shiver. Milo looked older and a bit careworn. Push your advantage, he told himself.No mercy. “Does Bart serenade you in the courtyard? I didn’t see any drums in the garden,” Liam remarked. He stepped inside the house and stood next to his bag. Beyond a vague impression of space and sunlight, he looked at Milo’s face rather than notice the details. Deep down, Liam feared what he would do this close to Milo. He couldn’t let himself beg. He begged six years before and nothing moved Milo. Yet this Milo seemed more approachable. Milo didn’t scream at him for being snarky. Yet Liam knew what he said came as near to a body blow as he could give at the moment. Actually, Liam hoped Milo would kick him out before he got beyond the foyer. Under normal circumstances, he would never have behaved this crassly, but just the sight of Milo made his cock hard and his brain soften. Milo’s golden aura still called Liam’s name. What he wanted to do was throw himself into those strong arms that sheltered him so many times before and never let go. Whoever said the best defense a great offense got it right. It seemed to work. Milo appeared a little less confident. He stuttered, “I-I haven’t seen Bart since the press conference, when we announced that you left the band.” What the hell? I saw that son of a bitch practically crawl up your ass on stage, Liam’s mind screamed, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Milo hadn’t risen to his either. The old Milo with his fiery temper would have been all over him. Liam hated not knowing what would come next or where he stood. He wanted to keep Milo off-balance, not the other way around. Milo awkwardly waved him inside after a moment of Liam’s silence. “Come in. Leave your bag. My housekeeper, Conchita, will take care of it later. I know you wanted no other company, but she has her own apartment on the grounds. I thought about it and decided you wouldn’t want to starve.” Milo forced

a chuckle. “After all, as you must remember, I never did any of the cooking for good reason.” Good, Liam thought.He isn’t as mellow about this as he seems. He’s babbling. Liam left his bag and followed Milo into a huge living area. The walls, covered in an adobe plaster glaze, glowed with a marbleized sheen, reflecting the afternoon sun. A series of lazy ceiling fans barely stirred the warm air. “Sit down and relax a few moments. Let me go and see what Conchita made for supper.” “I’m not sure I feel like eating.” “I know she made something special. I’d consider it a favor if you went through the motions for her,” Milo gently asked. You are doing this for Rick and Sam. You can at least try to get something down.“All right. Something light, I hope?” “Knowing her, she has it all figured out.” Milo left for the kitchen Liam couldn’t sit, so he paced. He looked out to the garden. He’d spent many evenings listening to Milo discuss the merits of one seed catalog over another. He stopped himself. He didn’t want to go there, back to the time of warmth, comfort, and security. It evaporated and Liam could not let this trip down memory lane wipe out the progress he made toward becoming his own man, and not the discarded accessory that once graced Milo’s entourage. Milo returned. “Homemade mac and cheese okay?” Liam smiled for the first time since entering Milo’s home. “Yeah, that’s always been a favorite.” Milo nodded. “I know.” Liam couldn’t decide whether the fact Milo remembered his food preferences augured a good or bad portent. It made him nervous.Where is the aggressive man I left raining curses on my head? He watched as Milo turned to a credenza. When he turned back, he carried a tray holding a bottle and two glasses. “Please, sit down. Have a glass of wine with me.” Liam fidgeted. Once, this was a familiar ritual. Until after he left the band, Liam never drank hard liquor. Milo, a real hard-ass about underage drinking, never let him touch anything but wine. When they were alone, Milo always opened a fine wine. He couldn’t cook, but he knew wine and spent a considerable amount of time educating Liam. Liam lost his palate in a haze of Irish whiskey in his post-Milo period. He hadn’t touched any liquor since. He didn’t feel much better now than he did when he disembarked from the plane, but he didn’t want to give away his mood. “Sure.” I have to remember not to take this to heart. This is Milo at his most charming. I have to remember the other times. Liam realized he’d been spacing off again. Milo handed him a glass of wine. When he looked up at Milo, all the air seemed to leave the room. He counted backward in his head. He refused to cry, but it seemed

as if time fell away and all they were to each other came back to him in a rush. Milo took his hand and wrapped it around the stem. “This is the1985 E. Guigal Cote Rotie La Mouline. You may recognize the name. I saved it for a special occasion. Seeing you again is a very special occasion for me. I would like us to get to know each other. I’m through hiding who I am and what I feel. I want you to know, no more lies.” “What are you trying to prove? You think a glass of wine and some words will make things better?” Milo didn’t reply. “I’ll drink to getting to know you,” Liam said, “because I don’t feel I ever really did. As far as being friends, I don’t know. It’s been a long time, and there has been a whole lot of hurt between us.” “Couldn’t we start over, as adults? Wipe the slate clean?” Liam got up from the couch and turned his back to Milo. His mind spiraled back to the hellish day six years before when his world fell out from beneath him. “If you want honesty between us, I’ll give it to you. I don’t know if I can manage any relationship with you at all. Even friendship is a stretch. I’ve cried too many tears. It took me five fucking years to recover the last time, I’m not sure I’m up to another bout of shadow boxing.” “Shadow boxing?” He stood his ground. “Yes, trying to fight your ghosts, trying to gain your trust, and always failing.” “We’re different people now.” “It’s impossible to forget all that came between us.” “Baby—” “You don’t trust me, Milo. You never have and you never will. I want a relationship where I can be an equal partner, not a snot-nosed kid who doesn’t know how to wipe his own ass. I am twenty-seven years old. It took a while, but I haven’t been a ‘baby,’ yours or anyone else’s, for a lot of years now. I will not go backward.” Liam’s cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket. “Excuse me, I was expecting this call. I have to take it.”

****

Milo stood there in shock. His baby didn’t talk back, shout or contradict. Liam cajoled, teased and tormented him out of wrong-headedness. He never raised his voice or argued his point. Since Liam didn’t bother to take the call in another room, Milo listened to Liam’s side of the conversation.

Okay, he was jealous. He wanted to know who the fuck called his Liam. “Hi, Danny… No, I’m away on business… Tell Jimmy and Nora I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for the celebration dinner. Kiss them both for me… You have to let him try out for baseball… There is such a thing as overprotective… I know you almost lost him, but you have to let him live his life… Yeah, I know. The philosopher king.” He glanced at Milo. “I have to go. ’Night.” Milo stared, shocked into silence. “That was Danny,” Liam said flatly. He looked at Milo. “His son, Jimmy, contracted leukemia six years ago. He called to let me know he just passed his five-year check-up with flying colors.” Liam glared at him. “That’s what happened that day, when you accused me of cheating on you. Danny just found out, and I drove him home because he became too upset to drive when Nora told him.” Liam stared at his phone. “Too bad you didn’t stop to ask me what happened.” Milo couldn’t speak for a moment. He’d always been wrong. His hands shook. With a struggle, he managed to push air past his closed throat and make sound. It came out as a croak. “He’s married? His kid had cancer?” Liam turned to him. “So now you know. Before you get sappy, know this—every foul name you called me, every curse you threw on my head, I became in the first year after we split. I slept with every man I could pick up. I let them do things to me that you held too much respect for my so-called innocence to try. As they pounded into my ass, I shouted, ‘Watch me, Milo, you bastard. Watch him pound me bloody, if this is what you think I am, than this is what I’ll be, a filthy fucking whore.’ I took more than one at a time, stuffed them in my mouth, my ass, with my cock in theirs. I became the slut of your worst imaginings, two, three or four at a time. I didn’t give a flying fuck. If they were up to it, so was I.” Liam shook with anger. Milo grabbed his arms to steady him. Liam broke his hold and knocked him away. Liam walked to the fireplace, and leaned on the mantle as if he needed the stone to hold him upright.

****

Because of his stubborn pride and out of control temper, he had refused to listen. Well, he’d listened, but to the wrong man and let himself be played. How could he ever make it up to Liam? “Baby,” Milo pleaded, “please, come over here and sit next to the fire.” Ever so carefully, he took Liam’s hands in his and led him to the brown leather couch flanking the raised hearth. He didn’t sit next to him, afraid Liam would balk. “Your hands are like ice.” Milo grabbed one of the brightly woven Indian blankets and tucked it around Liam’s shoulders. Liam looked straight into Milo’s eyes. “Don’t comfort me, don’t be kind. I won’t be a charity case for you or anyone else. When I needed your charity and understanding, you turned your back on me. I need nothing from you or anyone else.” Liam rose and, taking the throw, he precisely folded it.

When Milo attempted to speak, Liam held up his hand, “No, listen. You must know who I am. I am no longer a boy, your baby. I know the dark as intimately as I once knew the sun. I tried to commit suicide. I finally gave up on death and decided to live my own life after I woke up one morning in the gutter. I called a cab to come for me and Sam for help. He insisted I see a psychologist.” Milo sat down on the couch because his legs wouldn’t hold him up any longer. He physically felt Liam pull his emotions back and stuff them away. He could almost hear the lid close on the box and the key turn in the lock. He wanted to scream and plug his ears against what he heard. He wanted to beg forgiveness and at the same time, he wanted to deck the kid for letting anything he said to him hurt so deep. How can Liam not comprehend that I was the pretender, the liar, the ultimate cheat? By refusing to make the leap of faith, I doomed both of us to this half-life of broken dreams and no expectations. However, it seemed his ass froze itself to the seat cushion, and again, he couldn’t move. Liam continued, Milo forced himself to listen. If this be his penance, he would take it like the man he aspired to be, not the leech he’d been. “So I did see the shrink. I still do. I have nights when I wake up screaming because I’m in bed alone with my fears. I haven’t had sex in five and a half years. I work alone. I write my music. I travel, come home, write more, and begin again. This is who I’ve become. If you can’t accept what I am, who I am now, as opposed to what I used to be, if you are going to feel the need, now or in the future, to throw all this shit up in my face, I cannot accept your offer of friendship. Even if refusing you completes my transformation into a tin man without a heart.” Liam began to pace. “I don’t feel anymore, Milo. I have difficulty. I’m hollow, except when I think of you.” Milo felt the tidal wave of guilt break over him. How could he ask for forgiveness? “Liam, please, baby, sit down. Eat some of the supper Conchita made and let me get you something warm to drink. I’ll listen to anything you have to say. Just let me make you comfortable,” he pleaded. Liam continued on, relentless. “I have no diseases, but not because of any prudence on my part. I so reveled in danger, I scared myself. Since I left the hospital the second time, I can’t bring myself to go out on a date, never mind sex. I get checked every six months anyway. I didn’t care whether I lived or died. I still don’t know how I feel about my existence. I survive in a semiradioactive half-life. I once gave you my heart. It was all I had. You tossed it and me onto the street without remorse. I love you, I always have, but you never did love me. You loved the idea of me, the little boy, not the man. Where that leaves us, I have no idea. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day and it’s almost eleven, Jersey time.” Milo nodded. “Upstairs. First door on the right.” “Thank you. By the way, where are my cats, or did you deep six them, too?” “I never took the cats! You did. How could you believe I’d do such a thing?” Milo called up the stairs. Liam kept on walking. “Funny, I never believed you’d do what you did to me either.” Milo didn’t try to stop him. He was literally in shock. He needed time to work through his revulsion over his own stupidity. He needed to make it right. “I know you won’t believe this, but I loved you. I always

have and I always will,” Milo continued in a gentle tone. Liam paused without turning. “I’m sorry if I’ve brought you the additional burden of knowing the kid you raised turned into your worst nightmare. However, you needed to know. None of us are who we used to be. There are no happy endings, at least not for aging rockers.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Surrender”

I know that it’s time for me to go home I’ll no longer raise my hand I don’t want to take a stand Against my brother I don’t care where he’s been It will matter not to me when I come home to his arms Not alone again There I’ll stay, From my family I’ll not stray This brother stands, no longer alone.

—Liam O’Shea, March 2009(work in progress)

****

Milo climbed the stairs to his study after Liam retired. The clock struck nine, not late, and he knew he

wouldn’t sleep. He rifled through the mail on his desk and noticed a padded manila envelope stamped Photographs, Do Not Bend. Curious at the lack of a return address, he grabbed the letter opener. Carefully inserted between cardboard were a series of eight-by-ten photos of Liam, drugged, tortured and gang raped. He went into the bathroom and threw up. After wiping his mouth he returned to the photos. Even a cursory look at photos told anyone who knew Liam that he was an unwilling participant. Yet Liam presented it to him tonight as if he sought it out. No wonder Liam seemed fragile and defensive. I became a fucking monster about an imagined affair, what did he imagine I would do about this? “I always played a coward when it came to Liam,” Milo admitted to himself. He glanced again down the staircase to the landing. Liam hadn’t left.He must be still in the bedroom. He returned to his study. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Milo went down on his knees. “Even when he followed me around as I child, I loved him more than a brother, but pretended he was a pest and hurt his feelings more than once. If a day went by and I didn’t see him, I’d miss him fiercely and worry, but I never asked where he’d gone or why he’d gone missing. I never left myself open for hurt.” Milo stood up and leaned his head against the cool adobe wall. “I hurt everyone I loved. I damaged a spirit so precious…” He felt almost beyond the help of divine intervention. What needed to be done, he must do himself. He still had a chance. As long as Liam remained here, Milo still had a play in the game. He rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen. Liam didn’t eat on the plane. Milo knew from the look on Liam’s face that his stomach was rocky. He went to the refrigerator and took out the sack of sandwiches and containers of salad Conchita left for them for a late night snack. Grabbing a tray from the kitchen shelf, he arranged the food on two plates, removed two cans of Coke from the fridge, and put them on the tray with some napkins from the linen drawer. A small fridge sat in Liam’s room, and that’s where he would put everything. He knew the old Liam well enough to know that the first thing he’d do was take a shower. The man could not be so different from the boy he once adored. Milo returned to Liam’s room from the kitchen as his mind wandered in time. Liam thought himself incapable of making love. How did his warm, generous, and inventive lover become frozen to the point where he could no longer touch? Milo catalogued his sins. He did great harm and the thought he couldn’t repair the damage overwhelmed him. He forced himself to move. His soft knock received no reply.Must be in the bathroom. Quickly entering, he put everything in the fridge next to the double chaise in Liam’s room, then headed to his own to clean himself up and change into some gauze pants. He usually slept in the buff but he didn’t want to give even the smallest suggestion of his sexual interest in Liam. It wasn’t what Liam needed. Liam needed to know he loved him, no matter what happened in the past six years. He needed to make Liam understand that none of it was Liam’s fault. Milo walked over to the small bar and poured himself a double shot of Remy. Milo took a long sip of the brandy. It burned like hell going down. He put the glass back down on the bar and headed for the shower.

His body felt over-sensitized. Liam’s mere presence in his home caused his long-dormant libido to react. He hadn’t thought about making love in a long time. He did more than a few one-night stands in the last six years. One liaison lasted a month, until Milo realized what attracted him was the guy looked like his Liam, and every time he touched him he fantasized about making love to Liam’s lithe and willing body beneath him. He ended it and hadn’t taken anyone to his bed since. Now, Liam showered a door away. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I must have been crazy.Milo’s mind ran in circles. Love me, love me not. He’d raised the boy, yet refused to trust him. They held the same values. The kid adored him. They set off fireworks in bed together. Milo groaned. He couldn’t let his latent libido override his common sense.

****

Liam emerged from the bathroom and found his beat-up duffel bag in his room by the bed. His dirty clothes were missing. Liam assumed that the incomparable Conchita took them to be washed. The T-shirts he purchased at the airport, along with the sweats, sat folded neatly in a drawer. He changed from jeans to comfortable sweats. The room resembled one of his long ago fantasies. The fabrics shone in diaphanous shades of blue and green that reminded him of the colors of the ocean. On one wall stood a six-by-six-foot saltwater fish tank. The fish swam in and out of sand castles lying atop of tropical seashells. Salt water plants sat in several locations and the fish played hide and seek amid the fronds. He examined the elaborate sound system built into the adjacent wall. A floor-to-ceiling custom cabinet held hundreds of vinyl records, CDs in jewel cases, eight-track tapes, and cassettes. He found old forty-fives and seventy-eights, the collection ranged from Benny Goodman to Tupac Shakur and the system had every component necessary to play each item on the shelves. Liam crossed the room and picked out a vinyl copy of the band’s first hit album, named simplyShattered Glass . Liam lingered, holding the jacket to his chest as he remembered. He and Milo, more so than the others, drank, ate, and slept to the sound of this music. They sweated over every song. Liam thought they should use all new material, but Milo insisted they include one of their signature songs, Liam’s arrangement ofLover’s Suite . The song brought the audience to its feet during their tour as an opening act. Liam acquiesced, and spent his seventeenth birthday in the recording studio, alone with Milo, laying tracks for the arrangement. He needed to distract himself from this tortured reminiscence. Liam got up and tinkered with the sound system. He turned it on and adjusted the controls to mimic those in the studio where they first recorded the song. He placed the record on the turntable, taking care not to mar the surface. Then he lifted the arm, cued it to the first track, and dropped it precisely into the groove. Although he adjusted the volume to low, the room hummed with music. Liam sat in the light blue leather recliner set alongside the windows with a direct view of the mountains. Closing his eyes, he listened. He remembered telling Milo how much he longed for his touch.What if all I ever wanted was you? The

music washed over him, as did his tears. He thought the well was dry, yet seeing Milo again brought him joy, tempered by great pain, because he knew this could all have been theirs and he’d blown it. With the music came the memories, whispered words of love and the electric sensuality that flowed between them, building to Milo’s possession of his body. He pulled down his sweat pants and took out his cock. He stroked it in time to the music, remembering Milo’s hands and mouth as they moved over his eager body. The absolute joy of those moments seemed almost worth all the pain that followed. It didn’t take long for his body to absorb the music and the knowledge that the object of all of his desire laid just a door away. That thought made Liam cum in his own hand. He lay quietly, remembering what they had both thrown away. The feel, the touch and taste of the love he lost was always with him. Tears streaked down his face to his mouth.

****

Milo’s suite occupied the end of the wing. Decorated in browns and beiges with an occasional splash of gold and red, it possessed a southwestern style with a particular New Mexican execution. It was the polar opposite of Liam’s room, which he decorated with Liam in mind despite his attempts at self-delusion. Milo eschewed the colors of the ocean. The ocean belonged to Liam, and that reminder brought pain. Milo claimed the mountains and high desert country. Liam was his sun. Without him, Milo’s subconscious sought him everywhere. He knew why Conchita laughed. His furniture, the door, the garden, the ocean room, all done for a man he supposedly despised. He was such a fool. He sat holding the brandy glass in his chair, his erection straining against the soft cloth of the light drawstring pants. Liam had never lied to him, never cheated. Everyone’s pain—Liam’s, Sam’s, Rick’s, as well as his own—lay wholly on his head. He now solely owned the title of the asshole who’d torn his own beating heart out of his chest because he possessed too much pride to listen and too little self-respect to believe. Milo’s soul needed music. He flipped the switch that turned on the CD player. It started to play the song he’d listened to throughout last night. Liam’s clear tenor came in right after his.“Turnaround…” The song that was Liam’s first gift followed by the greater gift of his virginity. Even on that night, Milo couldn’t form the wordsI love you . Milo heard a noise, a thud from Liam’s suite. It shook him from his reverie. The song played in an endless loop. He felt as if Liam called his name. The door connecting the suites drew him. Liam stood somewhere on the other side, physically accessible for the first time in over six years. He held the key in his hand. His baby sat somewhere on the other side of the door. Milo couldn’t think anymore, his body filled with emotions he didn’t want to feel.Oh Lord, I know I promised, but how can I let him go? How will he ever know how much I love him if I don’t tell him? Even if he walks, now, tonight, at least for once in my goddamned life, I will have stopped hiding who and what I am and what I really feel. I’ve got to tell him now, while I have the courage.

His body pressed against the door as his own memories of kisses both sweet and hot, made his cock leak. He grabbed it and pulled, imagining the touch of Liam’s hand rather than his own.

****

The turntable stopped, the music ceased, yet it still played in Liam’s head. Every note, every chord he wrote, his first real musical effort was made for his love, his Milo. He’d poured everything he hoped to be into the arrangement and gave it to him. Liam hadn’t meant to horn in on the band, he’d just wanted to give Milo a part of himself Milo would remember when he and Shattered Glass became rock stars. Liam knew, even back then, they would become famous. As a musician himself, he saw the extent of Milo’s talent. With Sam’s management skills and Rick and Mike’s loyalty, he’d believed they would go far beyond Hazlet, New Jersey. He didn’t know Mike would walk. Liam offered to fill in spontaneously and unthinking. He couldn’t tell right from wrong anymore.Could of, should of, would of didn’t give him the comfort of Milo’s arms at night.Please , he begged the capricious fates,one more time. He slammed his fist on the table top of the wrought iron table beside the recliner and sent the lamp to the floor with a thud. He was lucky the glass was too thick to shatter.

****

Milo’s entire body flattened against the connecting door between the two suites. He got as close as he could allow himself. Liam needed time to adjust, and Milo couldn’t force the issue again. Hadn’t he learned his lesson? He never gave Liam the time he needed to grow and learn. I grabbed, I always grabbed. I took him too soon. I should have let him have boyfriends, dates. I was selfish. Milo lost himself in memories of one of the first times they’d made love. How he’d needed to worship his baby’s body with his hands and tongue, but Liam got there first, making him shake and shudder, his mouth everywhere. Liam’s tongue traced the rim of his navel and the trail of hair which crossed his hard stomach to the juncture of his thighs where his cock stood straight up, leaking pre-cum. Liam called it a happy trail. It made Milo laugh, until Liam licked around his groin and somehow maneuvered his head to a place beneath his balls, where he accessed the sensitive underside of his cock and the pendulous set of balls in danger of tightening up to shoot their wad too soon. Liam kissed and bit the skin beneath his cock and caressed his balls. He took each of them in his mouth and rolled them with his tongue. Liam worked his mouth around to Milo’s ass. Liam swiped the crack with his tongue in an intense,

rhythmic motion, until Milo’s clenched cheeks relaxed and flowered for Liam. Liam’s tongue moved between his cheeks to the tiny puckered rosette waiting for him. Liam dove in, circling the outside of the small pink center with a sweeping motion, then Liam plunged his tongue within. The kid began to shake, and Milo worried he didn’t like what he did. But Milo didn’t have time to explain Liam got an A+ in lovemaking. He was so hard, so emotionally high thinking about how he would nail his Liam, he hadn’t given a thought to telling his baby how good he made him feel. He frantically grabbed at Liam’s torso and brought him up to the top of the bed. Reaching over to the nightstand, he opened the drawer for a bottle of lube. “Baby, I’m going to fuck you. But we need to lubricate your ass. I don’t want to be responsible for hurting you and clouding your experience with any lingering pain. Lay on your side.” “I can take you. I know I can,” whimpered Liam in a frenzy of need. Milo didn’t listen. He took the lube and slathered his fingers. Reaching down to Liam’s ass, Milo began to massage his cheeks. As he caressed the high hard muscle, he reveled in the satin texture of Liam’s pale skin, which made such a startling contrast to the long, thick, straight ebony hair touching his shoulders and back. Milo sunk his face into Liam’s curtain of hair as he spread Liam’s cheeks. Taking his two largest fingers, he circled Liam’s hole, stretching his anal passage. He worked him for ten minutes until Liam’s desperate moans reminded Milo that Liam needed this connection as much as he did. He rolled Liam over so they were face to face, pushing Liam’s knees to tuck up under his chin. He forced a pillow underneath his baby’s lower back. This allowed Milo full access to Liam’s mouth, cock, and hole. His fingers probed Liam’s passage, searching for the elusive sweet spot. He knew he found it when Liam cried his name followed by, “Please, Milo, please, take me. I’m forever yours. Cum inside me. I want you inside me!” Milo looked down and lost himself in Liam’s violet eyes. Yes, his baby wanted him. Milo’s eyes blazed in passion. He pulled on Liam’s leg, bringing him up and closer. Liam took his own arms and placed them so they helped to angle his hole for a direct hit by Milo’s ready cock. Milo could wait no longer. He took his cock and shoved it toward Liam’s bright pink hole. Nothing held him back from claiming what he’d always thought of as his. He pushed. Liam bore down, and Milo moved past the sphincter muscle into his tight, hot passage. Liam moved his muscles, clenching and relaxing, massaging Milo’s cock. Milo couldn’t wait for Liam to adjust. Liam salved his conscience by yelling, “Move, Milo. I need you hard and quick, now!” Milo began to pound into Liam. Soon his body and his brain coalesced, and all that was left was the feeling produced by his dick in Liam’s hole. Over and over and over, he rammed into Liam ass, his balls slapping his baby’s cheeks. Milo needed more. His mouth moved over Liam’s skin. His hand stroked his baby’s long slender cock as it twitched between them. Liam shout showed a complete loss of control. “Good, Milo, so fucking good. God, I love you…deeper, harder. Please don’t stop. Love me, please, love me. I need you to love me so much.” Milo felt the beginnings of his orgasm at the base of his spine. It traveled from his brain, along his spinal cord, through his balls and sent electrical shocks to his cock. He began to cum. He felt like he shot an endless flood of cum into his baby’s ass. He imagined the passage painted in his seed, coated with his scent, marking his lover as his and his alone. He felt Liam’s dick explode in his hand, the jism shooting up

and over Milo’s chest and under his chin. Milo lay on top of Liam and smeared the cum on his chest, over Liam’s body, spreading Liam’s seed between them. They lay silent, staring at each other in wonder. How did this happen? Milo kissed Liam on the forehead, and when Liam tried to speak, Milo put his finger to Liam’s lips. “I’ll be right back, baby.” He went into the bath and ran warm water. He dumped the ice from the bucket and filled it. He soaped up a wash cloth and brought both the bucket and cloth back to bed. Milo went to Liam and washed him with great tenderness, kissing and loving each area he cleaned. He rinsed the cloth in the water and wiped down his own chest. He left the bucket and cloth on the nightstand, slipped under the covers, and pulled Liam in close. Liam pinned him to the mattress with his leg bent up over Milo’s stomach and his nose somewhere near his nipple. Milo sighed. It would take some time to get used to sleeping on his back, but he wanted Liam this close, so he only had to reach out and know he lay there beside him… When Milo returned to the present and let go of his reverie, he found himself still plastered to the connecting door, and the front of his pants soaked with cum. He needed to see Liam. He needed to see him tonight.

****

Liam had to pull himself together. This time, he didn’t try to shut out the memory of their first loving. This time, he’d let the image run to its conclusion and his body had reacted. Cum soaked his sweatpants. He went to the bathroom to clean up. The pristine shower stood as a thing of beauty, a blue-pebbled wall surrounding an area that looked like a mountain glen. Water jets sprayed either all at once or in a rhythm set by the user. But the length of the shower was governed by a conservation meter. It set a finite limit on the amount of water you used. If you attempted to use more, the shower shut off. In some ways, Milo had not changed. He remained passionate about some things. Liam began to hope maybe, there might be some leftover passion for him.

Chapter Fourteen

“Song of Might Have Beens”

It’s painful to see

What might have been If I had let it be If we were both different men Less burdened and more free Of all the baggage and illusions Secrets and darkness bring The past spoke up and winter came And we never sought out spring Lies and secrets are to blame They caused our demise And now, the season of the rain Has cleared up dreary skies You are to me the fount of life My love that I so missed There is no more any strife Now that we have kissed.

—Milo Stamis, March 2009(work in progress)

****

Liam showered and washed his hair, feeling more human as he rid himself of the sweat and grime of travel. Although his stomach still felt rocky, he considered going to the kitchen and getting a can of Coke. Soda always settled his stomach. He hadn’t brought a robe or sweats into the bathroom with him, so he opened the door and stepped out into the bedroom naked. His dick still felt hard from thinking about Milo and it stood at attention, reaching up and over his navel. He did not have much girth, but his length and flexibility more than made up for the lack. Milo always said his thin dick could snake up a passage far enough to hit the prostate every time. Lost in deep thought, he

padded toward his bag. He heard a noise and looked up. Milo sat in the chair he so recently vacated, the chair in which he just spilled his seed. “Milo?” “You expected someone else?” Milo chuckled. “Actually, I didn’t expect anyone or anything except a decent night’s sleep,” Liam answered. “You didn’t eat anything, baby,” Milo chided. “Your stomach must be roiling by now. I brought up some sandwiches.” “Milo, I am no longer your baby, nor, as a matter of fact, anyone else’s,” Liam answered in exasperation. “I am a grown man for Christ’s sake.” Milo spoke in a soft voice. “I know very well how old you are. I celebrated the majority of those birthdays with you, and one I’ve never forgotten inside you. One which never left my mind for an instant in the past six years. That day, you became mine. The night we first made love, you gave me the right to call you baby. Have you been with anyone else who could make you feel what I made you feel? I know I have never been able to find another you. “For me, there is only you,” Milo continued. “I learned that after you left me. I looked for you, everywhere. I couldn’t find you. I tried, and then I knew you didn’t want to be found, you hated me. So I gave up,” Milo whispered brokenly as he got up and paced the room. “Even though in my endless stupidity, still thinking you cheated on me, I wanted you. I looked for you, called you. You never answered my messages, my e-mails, my letters. You even ignored the songs in the book I dedicated to you. I didn’t know how to get to you. I didn’t know what happened.” Milo stopped and looked at Liam. “I acted like a jealous ass. I did all this damage to our love, to our lives. I know I don’t deserve anything from you. Yet I ask, because I can’t do anything else. I’m nothing without you, baby, just a pimple on humanity’s ass.” Milo dropped to his knees in front of Liam. “I would have been there for you, if I knew, baby. I swear. I started looking for you right away. You have no reason to believe me, yet I beg you to give me the chance I never gave you. I’m begging you to give me my life back.” Liam looked at Milo, eyes wide in shock. He slumped down onto the chair Milo vacated, his head down on his chest. “I never received any letters or messages. I didn’t buy the book because it would have been too painful, and I was still recovering mentally from everything that happened.” Liam lifted his head and his voice turned strident. “You damn well knew where to deliver my things—you sent them to me. I sat alone in a rented house surrounded by carelessly packed boxes I couldn’t face unpacking. I kept hoping you would change your mind, go to Danny and ask questions, do something to attempt to prove my innocence to yourself. I thought once you took the time to think, you’d come and ask me for the truth. You never did.” The last three words ended in a sob Liam could not control. “I didn’t send your things to you,” Milo spat back. “I came home one day and everything had disappeared, even the cats. I swear I thought you took them. The housekeeper said you sent someone to pick them up. I called Sam and he wouldn’t tell me where you went. He said you needed some time. I

called Rick and he told me he didn’t know where you were. He said I should forget you and hire a new lead singer because the band was falling apart. We needed Bart back, he told me.” At that point Liam began to hope, to believe maybe there was a chance for them. He’d never seen Milo distraught. Before, Milo got angry. Milo acted. He didn’t waste time on tears and recriminations. Milo kept going. “I hung up on Rick after saying some pretty nasty things. I didn’t find out Bart was his dealer until later. Again, I hadn’t listened to you. Oh God, baby, who stepped in between us and drove us so far apart we couldn’t even coexist in the same state? Why didn’t Sam tell me about the suicide attempt? Sam used to be my best friend. Why would he keep me from you when you needed me? Why would he keep you from me when he knew without you I dried up inside? Who did this to us? I know I hold most of the blame, but someone else made sure we never got a chance to straighten things out. Who? Why?” Milo asked. He was sobbing by the time he finished. He held Liam’s naked legs as if afraid Liam would disappear. Liam’s emotions swirled as the possibility Rick might have lied to him all these years hit home. Liam broke. He bent over and kissed Milo’s forehead and eyes. He pulled at him in an attempt to get him to stand up. He took Milo’s hand and crossed the room to the double chaise where he pulled Milo down beside him. “Milo, please, let me hold you. I want your arms around me. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped hoping and praying you would return and listen to me. But, you didn’t, and I thought that you didn’t care one way or the other. I thought you never loved me. Oh God, I’ve missed you so much.” Milo sobbed uncontrollably in Liam’s arms. “I’ve always loved you. It was my darkest secret. I took when you turned eighteen. I told you that night there would be no going back, and I meant it. I feared you’d find someone younger, without my hang-ups about being gay. And then, when the newspaper article appeared and I found the drugs, I went crazy. All of my fears materialized. Rick kept telling me to move on, I just couldn’t. Shattered Glass couldn’t exist without you, baby. I knew I wouldn’t survive without you in my life.” Liam continued to hold Milo, who now shook with sobs. “What did we let them do to us? How did it get this bad? I didn’t believe you loved me. Hold me tight. I need to remember what it feels like. I’ve missed your arms around me.” Milo turned to Liam and laid him down, pulling his body up against his own. “Liam, do you truly forgive me?” Milo whispered. “Yes, my love. I forgave you almost as soon as I hit the door.” “I know you’ve seen a counselor. I’ve seen a counselor of a different sort. His name is Esteban, Father Sanchez, from the local church. I met him on the plane home after the Grammies. I was pretty broken up because I missed seeing you again. If you decide to stay, I’d like you to meet him. I’d like to meet Patricia, too. I want to thank her for being there for you. Oh Liam, I’m so sorry. No more lies or secrets. I know what happened, baby. I know they raped you. I received the pictures anonymously in yesterday’s mail.” Liam’s voice became small. “You still want me, after that?” “It was my fault. If I stayed and heard you out, it wouldn’t have happened,” Milo answered simply. “After you left, I fell into a tequila bottle. I picked up men who looked like you and half the time, I

couldn’t go through with anything. The only relationship I began lasted a month, it fell apart when I kept calling him by your name. No one else could hold a candle to you. We start again from today, baby. If you can forgive my sins, I’ll do any penance you require.” “I think we have both done enough penance. I’ll stay as long as you want me.” “Then you’ll never leave my side, baby. I love you so much.” They lay quietly for a few minutes. Milo stroked his hand up and down Liam’s side. “Baby, you haven’t been eating, have you? Please, have some of the sandwiches Conchita made for us.” They both got up off the chaise. Milo, holding Liam’s hand, seated them in the two blue leather chairs. The tray piled with sandwiches and Coke sat on a glass coffee table between them. “Can your stomach tolerate the sandwiches?” “I think so. I do need to eat.” “You do. You’re about twenty pounds underweight. Conchita will make it her personal mission to fatten you up.” Milo laughed. “I can’t wait to meet her.” “You will, in the morning.” As they sat, Milo watched every bite that went into Liam’s mouth. He looked closely at his beloved’s face and saw deep-hued circles under his violet eyes. “I hate it that you look so tired and worn.” “It’s been hard.” “I know. For me, too. It bothers me that so much of what happened seems to have been deliberate obstruction. Why didn’t I get your calls? Why would you think I would go with that bastard, Bart?” “Yes. I couldn’t see it, but it is clear now. Too many coincidences.” “Do you see it, baby? There’s a pattern here. Someone, most likely Bart, went to great lengths to drive us apart. I know it is still shaky between us. I know I need to regain your trust. I also know that I need to prove to you that I trust you absolutely. Nevertheless, someone deliberately isolated you and tore us apart by pushing first my buttons and then, yours. It must be someone who knew us very well, who could predict both of our reactions to certain stimuli with about ninety percent accuracy. I don’t like it, Liam.” Liam had his suspicions. “I’d never been never deliberately cruel, to anyone. Who would want to do this to us, to the band? It hurt everyone, the backup singers, the roadies, we had a lot of people who depended on us for their livelihood. I still get occasional reminders of my sins.”

****

Liam’s body shivered a bit as he said the word “reminders.” Milo noticed. Milo determined that this time he would leave nothing to chance. Giving each other space, Milo thought, got them into this mess in the

first place, so he pushed, gently, but he pushed. “Has anything else out of the ordinary happened, Liam? Anything to upset you? Something which looked or felt wrong?” “I get gifts,” Liam answered him, tight-lipped. “What kind of gifts?” Milo asked as he abruptly sat up on the chaise. Milo sensed something off. He clasped Liam to his chest. Even after the emotional catharsis that left them closer to each other than they had been since childhood, Milo sensed his lover still held something back. He looked thinner, and tense, closed off and very, very afraid. If his unease was caused by the state of their relationship, he knew Liam would have relaxed at least to some extent by now, when he knew himself finally vindicated, yet he hadn’t. “What kind of gifts, baby? Tell me.” “Unpleasant ones,” Liam said as he turned his face away from Milo and into his shoulder. Milo sighed in exasperation. “Define unpleasant. If we want to build trust, we have to start being upfront with one another about everything. Tell me now, and save both of us the trouble of having me badger you all night,” Milo said with a forced chuckle. “Dead things. Threats. I’ve notified the police, and I no longer let anyone travel with me. I didn’t want to come here, Milo. I’d die if I caused you hurt.” “Does Sam know?” “No, only Patricia. I decided to tell Sam today when I received a package at the car rental counter. I haven’t been getting much sleep,” Liam answered, on the defensive. “Who knows you’re here?” Milo asked abruptly. “Only Sam. I finished the tour for my last album and told the label I intended to take at least a six month hiatus. My publicist knew I intended to go on vacation, but I made my own plane reservations and took the train from Red Bank to the airport when I started the tour. I had no animals to care for or plants needing to be watered, so I had no reason to call anyone to come to the house while I was gone. The security company has my cell number if they need me. Why?” “Because we are up here alone, baby. Because someone who means us harm may have set up this situation. Only a sick, malevolent, sociopath would go to those lengths and stand between us for so long,” Milo answered. “Look, could you get dressed? Your lack of clothing is unsettling. It makes my little head interfere with the processes of my brain. I want you, you know I do. However, we need to talk about a lot of things and the first thing we need to do is to find out who, besides Bart, had it in for us. Could you come downstairs? Maybe eat something a bit more substantial than a sandwich?” “I don’t know about eating. My stomach has been upset all day. But I’ll get dressed and come downstairs, maybe you have a little more—” “Yes, I have more Coke in the fridge. Remember, I invited you here. I haven’t forgotten what you like or what you need.” Milo gave him a quick kiss and sped out of the room.

****

Liam shook his head while he searched through his bag for another pair of sweats. Then was still the issue of their cats. Minor and Major never arrived from Milo’s. Milo said he didn’t have them. Their absence had entrenched his anger against his former lover for so long. Yet now he knew Milo hadn’t seen them since the day Liam left. With the unsettling thought about his cats rolling around in his head, Liam grabbed the sweat pants and flew down the stairs. “Milo,” he called, as he ran from the hall to the kitchen. “If you never had the cats, what happened to Minor and Major?” “I don’t know. You said you never picked them up, so if you don’t have them, who does?” Milo answered with a puzzled look on his face. “Whoever picked up my shit and delivered it to me didn’t bring them.” “They took them! I remember how mad I was. I loved those damned cats, and I thought you took them to spite me.” Liam shook his head. “I thought you kept them to get back at me.” Milo looked up from the granite counter. “Who could have been so cruel?” “Why did they pick on the cats? Jesus Christ, maybe we are in danger.” Milo stood still for a moment, in deep thought. “You know, only someone who really wanted inflict pain would take the cats away. If Bart was responsible for this, he still needed someone’s help, and it couldn’t be anyone but Rick.” “You’re right. Whoever did it knew us very well. Rick, Bart and Sam were the only people who knew what they meant to us.” “Yeah, it had to be someone the cats knew and they wouldn’t have gone easily with Bart. They never liked him,” Liam interrupted. “They wouldn’t take food from a stranger’s hand. They never came out from under the bed for anyone but us, or maybe Sam or Rick, and only then, if they were desperate to eat.” “So how could anyone but Rick get them out of the house without the cats making a huge ruckus and the cat-napper getting the shit clawed out of him?” Milo wondered. “I don’t know,” Liam said, “but this is scary. For all those years, I didn’t think, I reacted. If I did some thinking, I would have been here sooner. Looking back, it all makes a weird kind of sense. How could I miss so many convenient coincidences? We’ve been duped, and by people close to us, people we trusted. I thought Rick was my only friend.” “Baby, it’s not getting scary—I’ve been frightened since the moment I realized this whole thing was

staged. I’m calling Sam. He and Rick planned to come up in a few days.” “I talked to Sam before I boarded my flight. He didn’t say he would be here. I thought he decided to bring Rick up from rehab later in the month,” Liam said, a bit perplexed. “Er, originally I didn’t want them to come up at all. I wanted you all to myself so I could use the time to soften you up and coax you home.” Milo hung his head, a bit shamefaced. “What changed your mind?” Liam asked. “I heard the car. You didn’t get out right away. Then, when you went to the trunk, I only heard the thump of one bag. I called Sam and asked him to come quicker because I feared you planned to jump ship.” “It was difficult to get out of the car, Milo. But I saw the garden and I hoped…I don’t know. It gave me courage.” “One duffel for a month? That’s not the Liam I used to live with.” Liam shrugged. “No, it isn’t. But I don’t travel with an entourage anymore. Only me and the instruments, the rest of the crew travel separately and they never know where I’m staying.” “I suppose you no longer spend your entire royalty check on clothing and electronic toys either?” Milo teased. “I’ve grown up, as I keep on telling you. Aren’t you listening? I’m different. We both are.” Liam sat at the counter and dropped his head between his hands. “We need time to find out about one another.” “I know we do, but first I think we need some help to determine who planned all this from the sidelines. Whomever did it will strike again, as soon as they see us in the same house, and they are far too familiar with our habits and preferences. I don’t want to believe it is one of our intimates, but who else would know this stuff?” Milo set the can of soda alongside a glass with no ice. “Thanks.” “Drink your soda. Conchita also made some chicken soup. I’ve got it in the microwave, warming for you. I even have Ritz crackers. The mac and cheese may be too heavy for your stomach” Liam smiled and laughed out loud in pleasure for the first time in six years. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you remembered.” “I remember everything about you. I love you. How could I forget?” Liam slowly turned to Milo, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “You never said it. You only used the L-word when we made love. It was as if I had to draw it out of you with your orgasm.” “It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since you arrived. It’s my fault. I never told you often enough,” Milo answered.

“You never told me at all.” “I guess I didn’t.” Milo hung his head in shame. Liam had only one word. It came out in a soft cry. “Why?” Milo went to the fridge, took out another Coke for himself, and went under the sink to where he knew Conchita kept a bottle of rum for her brother’s coffee. He poured himself a double and followed the rum with the Coke and ice. Liam waited until Milo settled and then continued. “I thought you would never want me after what I did. I wanted your attention, Milo. I was as rotten as I could conceive of being. Even after the hospital, I gave it one more shot. I found myself waking up, beaten, in an alley. Sam hushed it up. I never tried to get your attention again. I cleaned up my act and tried to soldier on without you. But Milo, I needed you so.” “I haven’t slept well since I last slept with you. I told myself I could forgive you anything to wake up with you in my arms again.” “Can you really forgive me for the other men? Forgive it without ever throwing it in my face? It only took one false accusation for your love to evaporate.” “I already have. They were nothing but blips on the sonar. Danny was different. I thought you had a long and continuous love affair with Danny. If I could forgive you loving someone other than me, then fucking someone else is nothing. Liam, I fucked my way to your age of consent. If you don’t remember, I do. It didn’t help. It didn’t stop me from wanting you, even though I felt guilty about those desires for years. But it kept me from taking you. You forgave me all the partners I had before you.” Liam got off the stool and walked around the counter. He turned and faced Milo and laid his head on his chest. “To be honest, I never even gave those women a thought. I knew they meant nothing to you. Although at the time I wasn’t quite as understanding. You never loved them.” Milo pulled Liam into his arms. “Yeah, baby, that’s my point. You didn’t love those guys you fucked either. It was my fault anyway, but even if it hadn’t been, I would still have been able to forgive you. You didn’t love them. I couldn’t take the idea of you loving someone else, like Danny. That was what grabbed me by the throat. Do you believe me? Can you understand what I felt? I know now I behaved horribly, but I still loved you.” “I understand a little better. I thought you loved Bart.” “Bart? Like I said, I threw Bart out of the band after you left. At the press conference, he tried to sidle up to me. I blew and kicked him out. Sam took the skins for the last tour. Rick didn’t tell you?” “Rick told me you went to the mountains with Bart. It’s why I made the snarky remark about the garden when I showed up today. I got letters with updates on your activities in graphic detail.” “I am but a beggar at your table, baby. I desperately need to hear you tell me you’ll give me another chance even though I know I don’t deserve one. You are the only true innocent in this whole mess. I’ll blame myself for my gross stupidity for the rest of my days.” Liam snuggled closer into Milo’s warmth. “I’m glad you know the truth now. I forgive you, how could I not? I love you. But can we build a bridge back to trusting each other? There’s a lot of resentment and

old hurt bottled up inside both of us.” Milo frowned. “I know, baby. And we have to find out why Bart and Rick hurt us so they can’t do it again. We can talk to Rick and Sam as soon as they arrive. But I desperately want us to try. Please, let us try. We can start by just holding each other again and sleeping side-by-side. I’ll do a make-shift arrangement on this floor if being upstairs in my room would bother you.” “You don’t have to go to those lengths, hon,” Liam told him. “I’ll sleep with you. If the temptation proves too much, I’ll go back to my room for the rest of the night. I want to work it out between us.” He reached his hand out and brushed the hair from Milo’s forehead. “If we can’t move our love forward, than the bastards succeeded. We can’t let them succeed, now when we have a second chance. Oh Milo, it feels so good to call you hon again. You were always the golden man in my eyes, the gold of pure and rare honey. My golden man. You do love me, Milo?”

****

Milo studied his ex-lover’s face. “Yes, more than anything else in this world.” He found new lines there he hadn’t seen before. A man of twenty-seven shouldn’t look that weathered. Stray white hairs blended with the massive curtain of ebony. Grey hair always started underneath, Milo knew. He harbored a few himself, but he remained vain enough to color his hair. Yet Liam looked lighter, less troubled than he did when he arrived. Milo felt quite a bit lighter himself. He caught the tail end of what Liam said. “I don’t know if I can sleep yet. Let’s get some brandy. We can sit on the large brown leather sofa over there in the living area and cuddle and talk some more. We need to share what happened in our lives the past six years.” Holding hands, they moved to the sofa and sat, side by side. “You know, I didn’t hide my homosexuality because I was ashamed of you. I did it because of fear of my father. It’s not a good excuse for hiding our love, but it’s the only one I have.” “I wish you’d told me. I know I was young then, but it would have made things clearer. I thought you were ashamed of me.” “No, baby, never ashamed. I was so proud of you, I could hardly keep it inside. I said nothing because I didn’t want it to look as if I took credit for who you turned out to be. Lily made you the man you became.” “We’ve wasted years.” “Yes, we have. But maybe we’ve grown, matured in the time we spent apart. I never realized how empty my life would be without you until I tried living it. I took a long, hard look at myself, baby, and I didn’t like some of what I saw. I needed to become worthy of you.” Liam got up from the sofa. “I think we both had to make that journey. Maybe if it didn’t happen the way it did, it would have happened some other way. But now, seeing clearly for the first time how it

happened, I love you. If that didn’t change in the past six years, it never will.” “I love you too, baby,” Milo answered as he brought Liam closer for a kiss. The kiss turned wild and hungry. “Come on. Let’s go back upstairs. You need to sleep, even if you fall asleep talking. I promise, I’ll hold you all night long.” Milo decided to do the unexpected, in honor of the memory of their first time. He slipped his arms under Liam’s knees and shoulders, and after kissing him, he carried him up the stairs. He whispered, “Don’t worry, love. I have brandy and candle warmers my room.” Milo carried Liam into his room and settled him on the leather chaise. He grabbed a soft oversized chenille throw from a pile of pillows, along with a two-sided down coverlet, and tucked it around Liam’s body. The room felt chilly. He lit a fire in the double-sided fireplace, then grabbed and poured a finger of Remy Martin XO into each of two brandy snifters. Milo heated the cognac over a candle warmer and brought the glasses over to the chaise. He snuggled under the throw and relaxed against the soft leather. Liam took a sip. “You broke out the good stuff.” “A toast to us. May we never again be apart.” They clinked glasses, and the two men drew close under the covers, enjoying each other’s warm bodies, the brandy, and the fire.

Chapter Fifteen

“Talk to Me”

Love gives you the power to heal But love unspoken is not real It undermines love and trust And can turn love from rock to dust Why did I not believe? Torment myself that you’d deceive I think it was the words unspoken The ones I kept hidden until broken

I say them now, and forever I love you, my darling and I’ll leave you never. No more secrets, No more lies No more hiding, No more goodbyes

—Milo Stamis(work in progress)

****

“Milo, who told you I screwed Danny? You never objected to me spending time with him before. We played video games together when I we toured. How did he become an issue?” “Good question, baby. It crept up on me, as I remember. After you and I became lovers, Bart kept stoking my coals. He joked about me being an old man in comparison to you and that I would soon need Viagra to keep up with you. As I explained earlier, I felt I stood on shaky moral ground as it was. His constant teasing made it so much worse. I spent most of the night after I found the drugs drinking with Bart. I just arrived at the studio the next day and the first thing I saw was you and Danny leaving together with your arm around him. Bart said he’d seen you two in even more compromising circumstances, but didn’t want to tell me.” “And there was proof right in front your eyes.” “Yeah,” Milo countered. “It looked real enough at the time, with the Devil whispering in my ear. It was a very bad time for me. I felt as if I were being torn apart. Things became better between us, and all of a sudden, there was Danny. Bart kept pushing at me. Saying I should give you back a little of your own treatment. He suggested I use him as the means, but I wouldn’t touch him and it pissed him off.” “I always hated him, the rat bastard,” Liam snarled. “Right from the time he joined the band he went out of his way to make me miserable.” “What did he do to you? And why didn’t you tell Rick or Sam, if you felt awkward telling me?” Milo sounded gruffer than he meant to. “He picked his moments, waiting until no one else was around. He accused me of being a leech. If I ratted, I felt like I would just reinforce the image. I wanted to impress you with my maturity, to me it meant handling him by myself. He also had me convinced that no one would believe me, especially since he went out of his way to be nice to me when you and Sam were around,” Liam answered.

“Didn’t you trust me to look after you, baby?” Milo asked as he pulled Liam closer to his chest. “He told me I stood in the way of the group’s success, an albatross hanging around your neck and choking you to death. I was young, naïve, and very jealous because you gave him a part of you I couldn’t get.” Liam’s voice sounded soft. “What part are you talking about? You had everything I could give. I had no parts left over for anyone else,” grumbled Milo. “No, hon, you’re wrong. He became your confidant. After Sam left, you turned to Bart, not Rick, and certainly not to me. He may not have made band decisions, but he had input. Rick got hung out in the cold, and you treated me like a baby despite the fact we fucked every night.” “I don’t know. I guess you’re right. Rick always acted like a flake and I wanted to protect you. I couldn’t take you out for a drink and Rick took off elsewhere. The band became pretty isolated because Sam insisted on such tight security. If I went out alone, it seemed I felt surrounded by people who couldn’t speak to me. I took Bart along to have someone to talk to.” “Why didn’t you talk to me, Milo? I wanted to help you and I sat there waiting for you to ask,” Liam said in a hushed voice resting his hand over Milo’s heart. “I thought it so stupid that you wouldn’t let me sit in a bar with you. We played the clubs since I was twelve. I could have ordered a Coke.” “You don’t understand. I wanted you, but I couldn’t have you at first. Half of the time I went nuts with guilt, the other half I wanted to throw you on the bed and beat you until you bled for flaunting yourself in front of me. You epitomized temptation itself, and I wasn’t Christ. I made promises, both to Lily and to myself. The closer it got to your eighteenth birthday, the worse I felt. You drove me crazy by just being in the same room, baby. How could I tell you?” “Milo, I was blissful after we made love. You took me into your bed and heart, and I was never happier than in those years. I felt such peace. We wrote our music, performed with our band, and then came back to our home. Yet Bart’s litany continued. He said I was only a mercy fuck for you and you stayed with me because of the bad publicity you’d get if you dumped me or if I jumped ship. On the nights when you went out with him for a drink, I went home heartsick, afraid he would convince you I was a complete waste of your time. He hated me and I never knew why. I was never nasty to him. I only wanted to help. Yet in front of the band he treated me so decently that when I did finally complain, no one would listen.” “I talked to Bart instead of a shrink, yet every time I mentioned you, he spoke about how much he liked you, while at the same time, he reminded me how young you were,” Milo muttered. “It drove me nuts. He made me see myself as having robbed the cradle and you not loving me. I knew you never experienced another man. He made me feel like I’d taken away all your options for my own selfish needs.” Milo shook in remembrance of Bart’s reference to pedophilia. That thought still brought him some guilt and discomfort. “And I talked to Danny. How could I tell you my problems when our relationship became the problem? You still went out drinking with him. I’m sure he took every opportunity he got to pour shit in your ear,” Liam said flatly. “Yeah, I see your point, baby,” Milo reluctantly conceded. “He was not one of your friends.” “No matter how hard I tried, I never did anything right according to Bart. He hated me from the first.” Liam sighed. “When he started dealing drugs to Rick, I told Rick and Bart that I planned to tell you. I

knew how you felt about drugs in a band. Bart said if I didn’t keep my mouth shut, I’d be the one personally responsible for ruining your dream. I turned eighteen. We’d just begun a more intimate relationship. I didn’t feel secure, and Bart fed on that. When Rick said I would break up the band, I caved. Who was I to take it all away from you? After a while, the music began to suffer. I found them snorting on the last night of the tour. TheSizzle article appeared the next morning.” “You were an equal partner in the enterprise. Hell, baby, Lily’s money supported the band through the rough and lean times. She wanted it that way. Sam made sure we paid back every dime with interest, but you took even more of a risk than we did. If we failed, you had nowhere to go. That’s why Sam remained so adamant about law school. He wanted to make sure you would be okay no matter what. Sam loved you more than he loved his own brother.” After a long pause, Liam finally said, “Bart threatened me. I didn’t know about Lily’s money. Bart said that no one would believe me if I told them about the drugs. He said everyone liked him, but I was a pain in the ass kid who had no real hold on anyone except moral blackmail because I was so young. He intimated that the band would have dumped me much sooner if you and Sam hadn’t told Lily you would take care of me. I wouldn’t have cared if you dumped me from the band. I just didn’t want you and I to end. I backed off, not because of Bart, because of Rick. Rick said he would take care of it. He did, for awhile.” Liam paused and Milo pulled him tighter into the strong circle of his arms. “I just closed my eyes to everything after that,” Liam admitted. “I was too happy. But it never stopped, they just became more discreet. Danny told me Bart got half of the roadies hooked, and those who didn’t use quit after each tour in disgust. “Just after the last tour, I told you Bart became a creep and a bad influence on Rick, but you didn’t listen to me. You still saw me as the ‘baby’ who didn’t know about that kind of shit. Milo, I knew better than you because you couldn’t see it, you had all you could do to manage the band without Sam.” “Sam needed to pass the bar,” Milo countered. “Shattered Glass owed Sam for the time he took away from his life to help us. I knew he’d come back and be better than ever, but he needed the time and I promised to give it to him. I walked around with blinders on and became so pigheaded, I missed everything happening around me. I’m sorry. Sorrier then you’ll ever know.” Milo stroked his fingers up and down Liam’s back in an old rhythmic motion he’d used to put him to sleep when he couldn’t relax. “There was another issue. Bart keep harping on your age and had me believing I was a pedophile. I never touched you until you turned eighteen, but that didn’t change the fact I wanted you for years. That secret shamed me. I couldn’t separate the wanting from the actual act. Now I know the fact that I waited, despite my desires, was what proved me innocent of that heinous accusation. Back then, I couldn’t be sure.” “That perverted bastard! He called you a pedophile?” Liam gasped in anger. “Yeah. He called you a man-whore, but said I was a sick, perverted bastard who preyed on young boys,” Milo whispered. “I planned to tell you about the drugs and Rick. Before I got the chance to say anything, he turned you away from me.” Suddenly they heard a loud crash, followed by the sound of the alarm system.

Milo went running down the stairs, with Liam right behind him. All of the outside lights were on and Milo spotted a dark figure running from the property. It looked as if a rock had bounced off the safety glass in the great room. The glass didn’t break, but it cracked in a sunburst pattern. The house phone and Milo’s cell rang at the same time. Milo pointed at the house phone and barked, “Answer that, it’s the alarm company. Tell them we need the police.” “What about Conchita?” “It’s okay, she went to bingo and stayed at her sister’s house. Go.” Milo picked up his cell. An electronically disguised voice on the other end of the line said, “He’s back. Good, now you get to watch him die,” and hung up. “They’re coming,” Liam said shaking. “Baby, you’re cold and so am I. Get me some sweats, bottom drawer, long dresser. If you need a pair, take one of mine. I’m going to call Sam.” He dialed. “Sam, it’s Milo.” “This better be good. It’s fucking four in the morning.” “I know, we’ll make it up to you.” “Wewill make it up to me? I take it things went well on the mountain.” “Yes and no. We need some help. We just had an attempted break-in. What security firm do you use, and how soon can you get them out here? Someone has been working in the background against us for years, someone who knew us very well.” Milo summarized their suspicions to Sam. Sam’s voice sharpened into focus. “Shit, Milo, are you telling me Rick may have hand in this? I’ll be there in a few hours. I’ll get a private plane.” Sam abruptly hung up. Liam made it down the stairs just as the doorbell rang. He handed Milo his sweats. Milo put them on as he peered through the peephole. The police arrived. He opened the door. “Officers,” Milo said, “Please come in.” There were two of them, the younger one named Garcia. After talking with Milo, they searched the grounds and returned. “We we found this rock with a note attached by a rubber band. We thought you should see the contents, but I bagged it as evidence, so don’t break the seal.”

Milo, I’ll torture him while you watch, and then I’ll rape you before his eyes. It will be the last thing he sees before he dies.

Liam read over Milo’s shoulder, gasped, and crumpled to the floor. The second cop grabbed him and helped him over to the couch as he said to his partner, “Call an ambulance.” Liam opened his eyes. “No, that isn’t necessary. I just need something to drink.” “Do you have some brandy in the house?” Milo ran and grabbed a bottle and glass from behind the great room bar and hurriedly poured Liam a shot. “Sip it slowly,” he ordered. “Do you have any idea what this is all about, Mr. Stamis?” Officer Garcia asked. “Yes. That’s Liam O’Shea, the musician. He has a stalker.” “That’s right, you two founded of Shattered Glass, with the Stein Brothers.” “We think that this is the work of Bart Hedge, our former drummer. Officer, Liam is exhausted. He’s been traveling since early morning. I believe he filed an incident report at the airport rental car counter this afternoon.” The officer took his statement while Milo detailed what he knew. Liam sat with a stunned look on his face and sipped his brandy. “Our manager is arranging for a security team,” Milo continued. “They should be here soon. Could you stay until they get here? And I’ll probably have more information for you in the morning. Hedge is dangerous. I believe he is both a user and a dealer.” “We’ll be glad to sit outside until security arrives. We’ll search the grounds again.” Milo took fresh donuts out of the fridge. “Take these. I’ll have Conchita buy more in the morning.” He saw the officers out and reset the alarm, then immediately went to Liam. “I’m so sorry Milo, that I brought this to you door,” Liam said in a broken voice. “Baby, you are right where you should be, in my arms. God himself isn’t going to take you away from me this time. Come on, I’ll help you up to bed. Is my room okay?” “Yes, Milo, your room, your arms, that’s all I need right now. I promise I’ll deal better in the morning after I’ve gotten some sleep.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Sun Rising”

The sunlight shines on my window pane No more darkness, no more rain I remember now what happiness is It all relates to being his

—Liam O’Shea, March 2009(work in progress)

****

Milo had little sleep before Sam arrived about eight. “Leave your bags in the foyer, Sam. Conchita made coffee. It’s in my study. Come up and sit down.” “Hello to you too, buddy,” Sam said, following Milo to his study. Milo didn’t respond. He started up the stairs, checking to make sure Sam followed. Milo closed and locked the door behind him. This was one conversation he didn’t want interrupted. Milo, too upset to sit, paced the room as he talked. “Sam, I know now Bart set Liam up to look like he cheated. Why didn’t you tell me Danny had a boy dying of leukemia? Why didn’t you let me know that Liam tried to hurt himself, or that he was gang raped and beaten? Or the stalker? I thought you were my friend! I trusted you.” Milo began to sob, this time letting it all out. “Why? What did we do that you let us both suffer for so long?” “Shit, I should have known something was wrong when he insisted on doing the tour without Danny. And for the record, I didn’t find out the truth about Danny until a couple of years ago.” Sam sat as if the world weighed on his shoulders. “I won’t lie to you. We think Rick was involved. If he was, he had a lot of help. Bart Hedge is our prime suspect. Didn’t Rick go with him to Roar after Shattered Glass disbanded?” “Yeah,” Sam admitted. “So?” “Bart was Rick’s dealer. Liam knew and tried to tell us, but Rick warned him he would lose me by breaking up the band. And Bart, he made very ugly threats. He had Liam so fucking scared, he didn’t have to be specific.” Sam went still. Milo waited. He would wait forever for this answer. Did he finally get his chance with Liam, only to lose his friendship with Sam? Forever passed in one-second increments. He heard a choking sound from behind him. He went over to the captain’s chair. “Sam, are you all right?”

Sam wiped his eyes. “I just heard I’ve been lied to for six fucking years, and causing unhappiness to a boy I helped raise as a brother, and you ask me if I’m all right, you moron? No, Milo, I’m not all right. I’m pissed. If I had Rick here, my hands would be around his neck and I’d kill him.” Milo’s breath came a little easier. Sam hadn’t known. “When did all this shit start? No, don’t tell me. Bart, the fucking son of a bitch, started dealing as soon as he took my place in the band. But when did Rick get so hooked he started to act on Bart’s orders?” “I figure it happened around Liam’s eighteenth birthday, after you left to study for the bar, and I picked up all the management crap for the band. I was blind. The bastard even took Minor and Major. I don’t want to know what happened to those cats because then I’d have to tell Liam.” “How is Liam?” Sam gently asked. “Like you said, he’s fragile, very fragile. But inside, he has a core of steel. He didn’t break, but he’s bruised and frightened. What did Rick tell you so you wouldn’t call me?” After a pause, Sam said, “He said Liam hated you and wanted to get on with his life. Rick even said he dated occasionally. After his stint in the hospital, I rarely saw Liam until Rick went to rehab this last time. He didn’t seem happy to me. He seemed lost. No matter what Rick told me, Liam didn’t seem to be recovering. He carried the same kicked puppy look that you’ve been carrying around for six years.” “Did you ask him if he cheated?” Milo questioned. “That would have hurt him, to have you not believe in him either.” “I never asked him. You know I never doubted him, but like I said, I didn’t know the truth, at first.” Sam turned in his chair and watched Milo pace. “I took care of business after the suicide attempt and told Liam to grow up. Then I let Rick do Liam’s hand-holding. Liam made me so angry at him by hurting himself. After the beating, I became more concerned with getting him into counseling so he wouldn’t self-destruct right in front of me. At least then he hit bottom. From then on, I let Patricia handle it. I should have paid more attention. But it seemed as if Rick wanted the responsibility. I thought I’d be helping Rick by giving him some, and help Liam, too.” Sam hung his head. “You couldn’t tell from his attempt at self-destruction that he wasn’t happy?” Milo’s voice sliced through the silence. Sam looked Milo straight in the eyes and replied heatedly, “He didn’t act happy with himself. He babbled and told me he’d fucked around. How was I to know it was after you two split? I only recently found that he was raped. And, no, that I wouldn’t have told you without his permission. But you need to know now, if the cops are involved.” Sam sighed. Milo came back and sat on top of the desk, facing Sam. “I found out about the rape last night.” Sam shook his head. “If I knew then, what I know now...” Milo handed him his coffee, “Shit, I fumbled in the dark as much as the two of you. I love Liam, but I owed my loyalty to you, my best friend. I patched him up the best I could and sent him to a counselor I knew with a good reputation for dealing with celebrities. Any more, and I would have felt like I’d betrayed you. If I told you, I would have betrayed him. That much I know for sure. He needed to tell you himself.”

Milo made his own coffee as Sam continued. “Remember, it was only after I came to you to plead Rick’s case that I tried to bring you two together.” “But you were his fucking manager. How did you manage him from a distance? Did you know he had no security on tour? That he traveled alone with one shitty suitcase? He had nothing. We did that to him. You and I and Rick did that to Liam. Bart just came along for the ride.” “He no longer wanted to deal with me directly,” Sam argued. “He passed everything through Rick. How was I supposed to know Rick lied through his teeth? As far as this last tour, when I spoke to him, he insisted on going it alone. Do you think I feel good about this? This whole thing has been a royal fuck-up from the beginning. If I’d known that taking the bar exam early would bring this on the band, I would have shot myself first,” Sam grumbled as he stirred his coffee. “You needed the time to study.” “Don’t be such a moron,” he snapped. “I was the agent, manager, and soon to be the legal representative of one of the most successful rock bands in history. When you guys split up, I personally lost a bundle of money. There were gigs, contracts, endorsements—things that needed to be canceled. Some of the contracts had hefty penalty clauses. But don’t worry, you paid your fair share of the penalties. It cost me some of my credibility as an agent. Credibility is not something I could buy back. I had to earn it all over again, and it took me upward of four years to get back to where I was before the debacle. I resented the hell out of you and Liam. I thought Rick was an innocent bystander, just like me.” Sam abruptly put his cup down on the side table. “So that’s why you approached Liam and me to help pay for rehab?” Milo kept his voice flat. “You came to us because you felt if we hadn’t split up the band, Rick would have been fine?” “Yes and no. Rick wanted the reunion but yes, I’m afraid I did think exactly that. I thought I was exacting retribution. All of a sudden, you call me in the middle of the night and tell me that my brother and his addiction helped Bart Hedge to ruin not only Shattered Glass, but you and Liam and me personally. That’s hard to take. He’s my brother.” Sam moved around in the chair. Milo no longer tired to control his voice. “Liam was supposed to be your brother, too. You promised Lily, just as I did. And while you were busy holding Rick’s hand and keeping secrets from me, Liam suffered—by himself. Goddamn you, Sam. I had you, and you had Rick. Rick had you and his fucking dealer. Who did Liam have to look out for him?” “I’m sorrier than I can say, but it’s all water under the bridge now,” Sam said, trying to calm him. “You sorry son of a bitch! It is not over. Once that bastard finds out he no longer holds sway over Rick, and that I’m wise to what happened, what do you think he’ll do? He’ll go after Rick, and after he gets Rick hooked again, he’ll make a play for Liam,” Milo screamed in Sam’s face. “My window wasn’t broken by a home invasion crew. They wouldn’t have run. This was someone with a grudge. They attached a fucking note, threatening him.” “Okay, we both know you’re right. Stop the screeching and tell me what you want me to do,” Sam pleaded. “I’m already here.” “We are going to find out what happened. You are going to drop everything and start digging. Hire whoever you need. I don’t fucking care about the cost, we can all damn well afford it despite your cries of poverty because of Rick. I know you. Once you finally saw how bad it was for Liam, you concocted

this poverty tale to get us back together. Right?” “Yeah. I knew what you were going through. I thought it was his fault, so when I realized I might be wrong, I took steps, but it was for Rick—” Milo cut him off. “It seems that we are going to need more than steps, Sam. We need to run a marathon,” Milo demanded. “I guess I owe you two, rather than the other way around. Although Liam is going to hear about it for not telling me about Rick and the drugs,” Sam growled. “Sam, you are an asshole. Two grown men threatened the kid, one of whom was supposed to be as close to him as a brother. They threatened to take his whole life away, and he was still going to tell us. Before he got the chance, they did take his life away. He lost me, the band—which was the only family he had—his career, and his livelihood. If anyone should get his ass chewed, it’s your own fucking snake of a brother,” Milo roared. “Calm down. You’re right. I’m being defensive. What do you need?” “I want more than last night’s temporary rent-a-cops. I need full-time security here immediately. I want to know where that fucking Bart Hedge is now, and I want to know who he is working for. Don’t let Rick out of rehab. That bastard will be waiting. Does Rick know Liam is here with me?” “I might have told him,” Sam replied. “We are going to get to the bottom of this. I will not put Liam in any more danger. And Sam, for publication, I’m out and proud. If Liam will have me, I’ll be with him forever. I just need to convince him.” “That’s going to take a miracle, Milo. He didn’t even want to talk to me.” “Then it’s the season of miracles. We haven’t made love, but he’s sleeping in my bed.”

****

Liam woke when the light hit his eyes, and for a moment he didn’t recognize his surroundings. He looked around. Milo’s room, in Milo’s bed, he remembered with joy. The reason he slept so deeply was they’d spent the night in each other’s arms. His eyes widened. The mountains lit up before him. The sun rose over the peaks, spilling light over the crevasses and foothills as it tinted the cliffs a subtle shade of pink. He rose and walked out the door, onto a deck that led to a terraced courtyard. From the courtyard, he saw that Milo’s garden covered the hillside. Outside of the bedroom suites, he saw strolling paths, which branched off into private arbors. He

stepped off the balcony onto one of the slate pathways. A security guard startled him, but not before he noticed the tulips, daffodils, and snow crocus in full bloom, along with lilies of the valley and some native plants he could not name. Liam figured Sam must have arrived because the security was out in full force. He felt safe for the first time in what seemed like forever. He nodded to the guard and continued fifty feet down the path when he saw something that stopped him cold. There sattheir bench from the Red Bank Antiques Center, displayed prominently. Liam walked up to it and noticed something different about it. A small gold plaque on the back read Liam’s Bench . Liam sat and started to cry. Every time he thought he had no tears left, Milo managed to pull out some more. Happy tears though, this time. Milo found him sitting on the bench sometime later. “I heard you got up. Do you want some coffee or tea, baby?” “Tea would be great. My stomach hasn’t tolerated coffee very well for the last few years.” “How about we get you some breakfast?” Milo persisted. “I don’t know. When I eat, I get nauseous,” Liam answered. “I think you get nauseous because you don’t eat. You must have lost twenty pounds since I last saw you. Your ribs poked my chest last night. Conchita is here and ready to prepare breakfast. Come eat, Liam. You can have some Coke with your breakfast and it will stay down. You know Coke settles your stomach,” Milo coaxed. “Besides, you need to get a move on because the police want to talk to you about yesterday’s incidents, and Sam has the head of the security company coming at noon.” “What time is it?” “Nine thirty, sleepy head.” Milo leaned down and lightly brushed his lips over Liam’s. “That is a down payment on later, I hope.” Liam stood and took Milo’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze and a kiss on the wrist. “So is that.” Oh Lord, Liam thought. It felt so good to wake up in the morning and have someone care whether he ate or not. Then he prayed for the first time in years. Please, Lord, make it real and not a dream. If it is real, let it last this time. I won’t survive if it doesn’t last. I need him so badly. I am only half a soul without him. He’d been afraid for so long, and now his fear vanished. He couldn’t say he felt invincible, but he no longer felt at the complete mercy of his tormentor. Since he and Milo compared notes, it became obvious that Bart spread the lies and with them destroyed the band, probably with Rick’s help. It was safe to say the threatening phone calls and letters he’d received and the few ugly packages might all be tied in with everything else.

****

He took a quick shower in Milo’s magnificent bath and dressed in a pair of soft, well-worn blue jeans and a T-shirt. He slipped on a pair of Nikes without socks and hurried downstairs to where Milo waited. His nose led him straight to the kitchen. At the stove stood a short, round woman of Hispanic descent. Although he didn’t normally do coffee, it smelled delicious. Not wishing to startle the woman, Liam cleared his throat. “Hi, I’m Liam. I’m supposed to meet Milo down here for breakfast. You must be Conchita. Your coffee smells divine.” “You are late. Milo is in the courtyard, under the pergola. He said you are to get the works, and I can see the works is what you need. Now come here to Conchita and let her take a look at you.” Liam obediently stepped forward. The tiny woman looked him up, down, and sideways. “Hmm, I can see why Milo missed you, but you make him unhappy again and Conchita will chase you with her fat wooden spoon.Si ?” “Si, er, yes ma’am. I’ll go out to Milo now, ma’am. Thank you for offering breakfast.” “Silly boy, frightened of the cook,” Conchita beamed, then reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’ve passed. You can stay. Just be very good to him and I’ll make sure he’s good to you. My wooden spoon swings both ways, eh?” Conchita still chuckled at her own wit when Liam joined Milo in the courtyard. “Morning, baby. It’s about time you got your ass down here. Time is a-wasting.” “It’s ten thirty. Since when is that late?” “This is New Mexico, where everyone gets up before dawn and does a day’s work before noon. From noon until four, it’s too hot. Life goes at a more natural rhythm here.” “You have air-conditioning, Milo.” “Yes, baby, I do. But I try not to use it. There is no humidity, so the heat isn’t as draining as it is in New Jersey. You’ll find we’re a bunch of tree huggers out here. We do our best to conserve our water, electricity, and even the propane. I have solar panels and a wind turbine on the roof. I have rain barrels to collect water. I recycle water from the washer and the bath to use on the grounds. In short, I act like there isn’t enough to go around, because there isn’t.” Conchita came out and placed four huge platters on the wrought-iron table, one filled with eggs, peppers, onions, and salsa. “That,” Milo said as he pointed to the first platter, “is Conchita’s famous huevos rancheros .” The second platter held crispy potato slices mixed with sausage and bacon. The third platter carried the largest sweet rolls that Liam ever laid eyes on. They dripped with cinnamon and cream. The fourth platter held fresh fruit, mangoes, melons, oranges, pomegranates, strawberries, blueberries, and some berries Liam didn’t recognize. Liam watched Milo watch him. He knew what came next. Milo looked at the platters and then at Liam. “No fruit or buns until I see you eat a fair portion of eggs and potatoes.”

Liam laughed out loud. “For Christ’s sake, Milo, I keep telling you I’m twenty-seven years old. Maybe one of these days, you’ll actually listen and register that fact in your brain.” “Baby, you could be a hundred and twenty-seven and I’d still want to make sure you ate right. And you haven’t been eating right. Baby, is there more to this situation then you’ve told me already?” “Been talking to Sam?” Liam asked, as he shoveled another forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Fuck, these are great. You aren’t going to have to bribe me into eating these babies,” Liam said, helping himself to another portion. “I’m glad you like them, but you’re not going to change the subject,” Milo countered, trying to sound stern. “I intended to give you the details anyway. Last night wasn’t the time. It’s obvious you haven’t done stern papa in a long time.” “All I have done since you left is stern papa. I’m just so damn happy to have you here next to me that stern papa isn’t what I want to be doing.” Milo sighed. “And what do you want to be doing?” Liam purred. “Stop that. You know damn well I want to pound your gorgeous ass into the mattress, but we are not up to that yet. When I take you this time, it’s forever. No running away, ever again, for either of us,” Milo said, looking dead serious. Conchita made her way out to the terrace with a coffee pot. Liam blushed bright red, “Conchita will hear you.” She said, “I have four brothers, some of whom work for Milo. Paco, the youngest, is gay and has a partner.” She shrugged her shoulders, “There is not much that I haven’t heard. Love is nothing to be ashamed of.” Liam blushed again and then answered Milo’s unspoken question. “No, Milo, no more running. That is why we have to talk as soon as we do justice to Conchita’s efforts. Maybe in the music room, with some of that coffee that smells like cinnamon?” “Okay. I’ll wait for the coffee. Nevertheless, we don’t have much time. Sam wants to see you.” “Please, go and wait for me. I have a few things I need to get from my room to show you.” With that said, Liam bounded up the stairs, leaving Milo to wonder.

****

Milo sat in the music room waiting. Although Liam seemed playful and carefree at breakfast, Milo knew him long enough to read between the lines. He didn’t seem as worn down as he did yesterday, but Liam had something on his mind. This time, Milo determined to listen to every word.

Liam entered the room, holding what seemed to be a pile of letters. Liam handed him the first envelope. “Baby,” Milo said, as he stood up and pulled Liam into his arms. “Sit here with me and we’ll look at this together.” They sat on the leather chaise, Liam folded between Milo’s long legs and leaning against his chest. “Now, what do you have here?” “It isn’t anything good. As a matter of fact, I should have taken them to either Sam or the police a long time ago. I just couldn’t bring myself to hang Shattered Glass’ dirty linen out for the world to salivate over. I knew you didn’t come out of the closet for business reasons, and I also knew that Bart didn’t admit to being bi-sexual. Most everyone knew Rick had a drug problem, but the stalker said he had evidence Rick was dealing. Anything I said about these letters would have sent the whole thing tumbling like a house of cards.” “Let me see them,” Milo demanded. He read through the stack of ten letters, then asked sharply, “How many more are there, Liam? I need to know, now.” “I have a few drawers full of these at home, and then there are the packages.” “Packages?” Milo roared. “The ones you told me about last night. What the fuck was in those packages?” “Dead things usually. The last one came yesterday at the rental counter, held two dead two kittens, they looked like Minor and Major. I went to the bathroom to vomit when I saw their pathetic broken necks and noticed someone tortured them to death. I asked the rental agent to file a report and I threw a few hundred on the table to have them properly buried.” “Do you think someone bribed the security team?” Milo asked. “I thought that at first. I finally fired the security and stopped asking Sam’s assistant to arrange my travel. I thought if I arranged it myself and stayed in cheap motels, no one would know where to look for me. When I toured, who would expect to find Liam O’Shea in a no-tell motel? It even worked for a while.” “When did he pick up your trail again, baby? I know it’s hard to talk about, but I need to know.” “On this last tour, I gave Sam my itinerary because he needed to stay in touch about Rick. He was also trying to arrange this thing with you. When I got dead roses in New Jersey, and the two kittens in Albuquerque, I figured my luck ran out. I know I was being selfish, but you did want me to come. I’ve been so afraid, and now you know what a coward I really am. I brought my shit straight to your door.” Milo grabbed Liam’s shoulders and hugged him tight to his chest. “Baby, you have the heart of a lion and I’ll take any shit you bring so long as it brings you with it. Haven’t you got it? If something happened to you before I got a chance to tell you how much I love you, it would have meant the end of me.” “I should have tried harder to get to you,” Liam mumbled into Milo’s T-shirt. “And I should have realized someone set us up. Sam arrived early this morning. We talked when he got in and, I told him everything you told me. I hope that you don’t feel I betrayed you somehow, but last

night scared me. Whoever this is, he’s upping the ante. Sam should be in my office, setting things up for us. Let me give him a heads-up so he has his ducks in order.” He picked up the intercom. “It’s me. We’re coming up.” Milo led Liam through the house and knocked lightly on the office door before they entered. Liam followed him in and greeted Sam with a hug. They sat together on the couch in front of the desk. Milo got straight to the point. “Do you have a disgruntled employee at the office, or someone who left suddenly? Liam said the stalker stopped when he handled his own travel, and began again when he gave you his hotel itinerary for this tour.” “Fuck, Margot’s assistant. She was murdered, and I know a few years ago, she dated Rick. When did this all start?” They both looked at Liam. Liam blushed, but answered, “As soon as I walked out. I got the first letter the next day. For the first year, they all described in graphic detail your relationship to Bart. They read so real, I went a bit crazy. I needed to do to you what those letters did to me. I thought you did it because you got so angry about…you know…what you thought happened with Danny, that you got someone to send them to me. After I would get one, I’d feel like I was drowning, and then just when I could breathe again, I’d get another.” Milo grabbed Liam’s hand. “It’s all right, baby.” “Was there ever a break between the letters?” Sam stood and began to pace behind the desk. “I got two a week like clockwork for the first six months, then I went to the hospital,” Liam replied. “What did Patricia say about this?” Sam asked. “Didn’t she tell you to contact the police?” “I did call the police at first, they claimed it was a disgruntled fan. After that I didn’t pursue it. If I told Milo and made a stink, too much of our lives would be exposed, and I couldn’t let that happen.” “Liam,” Sam said, “you could have called me. I’m damn mad that you didn’t. I’m supposed to be your fucking agent, manager, and lawyer, to say nothing of practically being your goddamned big brother. I can see why you wouldn’t call that shithead standing next to you, but why didn’t you call me?” “Because I’m afraid Rick is involved.” Liam looked over at Milo, but Sam didn’t react the way they thought he would. Sam simply said, “I’m afraid you might be right.”

****

Liam sat at the large desk in his Ocean Suite, as Milo named it. Only two hours passed since they talked with Sam, and the house was under siege. Several burly security men patrolled the garden. Liam noticed their nice asses, but when Milo saw him looking, he winked and stopped ogling at once. How could he be this content? Their whole world seemed to be falling around their ears, and he wanted to whistle a happy tune. There could only be one reason—Milo. Every fifteen minutes or so, Milo would pop his head in the door, blow him a kiss, or just stand there and stare. Amidst all the chaos and fear, they seemed to be feeling their way back to where they belonged. It didn’t feel the same as before. He likened it to taking a second trip to Paris. They’d been there once already, so the second time they weren’t in a big rush to hit the high spots. They took time to explore the smaller shops and museums, to begin to love the city as a resident, not a tourist. This time with Milo, he felt a part of everything, not an outsider looking in. He belonged here. Both Sam and Milo made decisionswith him, notfor him. They were all in this together. Somehow, they needed to save Rick and, at the same time, catch Bart red-handed. By the time they all sat down to lunch—Sam, the security people, Milo, and himself—they’d agreed no one else could access the information on Liam’s whereabouts, both before and after the incident that caused the breakup. It must have been someone connected to Sam’s office. Sam’s friend, J.B., the owner of the security firm, thought there was no one else with either the motive or the opportunity, except Bart. J.B. once worked with some hush-hush government organization where he served as both an operative and an analyst. What stopped them all in their tracks was J.B.’s announcement that Rick possessed ample motive besides his addiction. “Look,” J.B. said, “Rick has been the outsider in this little love fest for years. I worked security for Shattered Glass when the band started out, before I got my own outfit. I haven’t forgotten those years. You would send the kid—pardon me Liam, but you were a kid back then—to bed and then discuss the group’s business as if Rick wasn’t in the room. When he tried to say something, you two slapped him down.” Sam started to bluster, but Milo raised his hand. “He’s right, Sam. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about everything these past few days. Liam said the same thing to me. We steamrolled over both him and Rick. When you left and Bart came on board, I did no better.” J.B. looked straight at Sam. His muscled arms flexed as he gripped the counter’s edge. “For a man who is so book smart, you can be pretty people stupid. Rick had just cause to resent the way you treated him. He founded the band, same as you and Milo, yet the two of you rolled right over both him and the kid. It seemed obvious to me why the kid didn’t holler, but I never understood why Rick didn’t.” J.B. pushed away from the counter, grabbed a mug, and poured himself another cup of coffee. The clock didn’t read that much past noon and J.B. already sported a five o’clock shadow. He had the demeanor, Liam thought, of a sleepy red bear just out of hibernation. Lazy, but deadly when stirred. Liam felt Milo’s breath on his neck followed by the low rumble of his voice. “Do you think Rick did this without Bart’s help?” Milo asked. “You can’t believe Rick acted alone. He may have been both resentful and jealous, I can see that, but I can’t believe Rick would be deliberately cruel. It just isn’t in his character.” “I don’t believe anything at the moment. It’s too early in the investigation and I don’t have the facts. But

it is possible. To be frank, any one of you could have done this, including Sam and you. I wouldn’t even exonerate Liam, except it continued while he sat in the hospital. If you remember, my firm picked up his mail and sorted through his packages. My people found a dead rat in the mail, with Liam ensconced in a hospital bed, clinging to life.” “There isn’t much about that six-month period that I remember. When sober, I wrote melodies and tried to find lyrics. I wanted to forget everything except the music. Unfortunately, the drugs and the alcohol didn’t help me forget Milo, they combined to make me forget that I was still a human being. I began to think of myself as a discarded toy. Do we have to talk about this now? I do enough talking about it with Patricia.” “Patricia did you a world of good, Liam,” Sam said. J.B. nodded in agreement. Liam glanced at Milo and continued. “The point is that neither you, nor Sam, saw Rick or me as human beings. Sam, to you we were automatons that played and wrote music, pieces to move from one venue to another. Milo, you avoided me so often, that you trained yourself not to see me when you looked. Rick, I know, felt as invisible as I felt, and he resented me,” Liam finished. “Why would he resent you?” Sam asked. “You took nothing away from him.” “But I did,” Liam said solemnly. “What?” Sam asked in blunt fascination. “You, Milo, both your time and attention. Once I joined the band, the dynamics went askew. I became the baby. Before I arrived, Rick held that position.” “We didn’t spoil Rick,” Sam said. Milo, who Liam thought looked very serious throughout the whole discussion, said, “No, we didn’t, so it follows that he must have hated watching us trying to spoil Liam. Rick did the occasional vocal with me before Liam came. After Liam, he did none. Of course, we made that decision for the ultimate good of the band. Liam had a much better voice.” “But that didn’t make being passed over any better for Rick, did it?” J.B. asked. Liam shook his head. “Originally, he gave me the most support. Even though I belonged to Milo, Rick formed my cheering section. I think he did it because someone held a lower position on the totem pole than he did.” “When did Rick’s attitude toward you change?” Milo asked in a gentle voice. “After my eighteenth birthday.” “You mean after we became a couple,” Milo confirmed. “Yes, it came right after that. We started spending most of our time together. Yousaw me. Rick didn’t become hostile until after Bart arrived and became so obnoxious. And come to think of it, he seemed to gain more knowledge about our personal life as well as our business and he used that information to torment me.”

J.B. interrupted. “Either Bart or Rick, or the two together, are responsible for the harassment. The question is which one took charge? I tend to think that Bart pumped Rick for information when Rick was high. Rick didn’t want to see Liam dead. If he did, he wouldn’t have called Sam the night he found him in the tub.” “For the first time since I got your phone call last night,” Sam said to Milo, “I have a bit of hope that my brother is not a sociopath as well as a fucking addict.” “Sam, you know as well as I that there are no guarantees,” J.B. interjected. “It could as easily be Rick as Bart. I called in a few favors. We should be able to pinpoint Bart Hedge’s whereabouts by this evening. Sam, call the rehab facility and find out if Rick has signed himself out.” “Why would he do that?” Sam asked. “Because,” Milo answered with exasperation, “if someone’s been blackmailing him about his drug habit to get him to give up inside information on the band, the fact that’s he’s in rehab is not something that will stop them. Rick can sign himself out at any time since it was a voluntary commitment, and he is allowed to have visitors, isn’t he?” “Shit,” Sam spat. “Yes, he can have visitors. When residents are close to release, they’re encouraged to have visitors to see how supportive their companions will be to their hard-won recovery.” “Sam,” Liam interposed quietly, “they keep logs, don’t they? I mean, no one can see Rick unless they sign the register.” “I have his power of attorney, so I can find out. I’m right on it. And while I’m at it, I’ll get a report from the investigator assigned to find Bart Hedge.” Sam pushed back his chair and strode out of the room. “What now?” asked Liam. Liam read the pity in J.B.’s eyes. “We wait.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Not Alone”

It’s difficult to ask for aid When you know you’ve been betrayed Who to trust, what to say

Who swept all your dreams away Trust your heart, hear your soul Give up some of your control Burdens lighten when they’re shared Just as hearts when they’re paired

—Liam O’Shea, March 2009(work in progress)

****

“We have to coordinate with the NYPD,” said J.B. “Sam, I believe that there is a connection between the stalker and the murder of your assistant. I think you need to speak to Rick and find out exactly what he told Bart. I’d bet Rick’s involvement was due to his addiction rather than hatred of Liam. He never would have called for help after the suicide attempt if he meant Liam physical harm. I also want to look into both Bart and Liam’s background to see if there is a common denominator. In that capacity the NYPD can see if Bart’s in the system under this name or an alias. Liam, will you agree to this?” “Yes,” said Liam as he grabbed Milo’s hand. “I want this to end. I have everything to live for, and I don’t want that bastard to take one more thing away from me.” “My crew and I will get started with the investigation. Milo, I need a list of everyone employed in your household, and any friends that may visit. I know you have a security system in place, but it will not discourage a determined intruder. My intention is to make this place as tight as Fort Knox.” “Anything you think is necessary, J.B. I don’t want any of my people harmed.” Milo put his arm around Liam’s shoulder and said, “You and I are going somewhere private to finish our earlier conversation, and Sam is going to get some more shut-eye. Conchita’s already made up Sam’s usual room.” “Conchita must have half a dozen elves working for her, for all that she does in this house,” Liam remarked. “No,” said Milo, pulling Liam in for a quick kiss. “Conchita has relatives who are always looking to put a little extra away. By the way Sam, did you arrange what we discussed earlier?” “Christ, Milo, I’ve been on a plane all night and involved in meetings since I got here this morning. When would I have had the time? Besides, something this big needs the right venue to make the announcement. It also needs a sympathetic audience. If you don’t mind, I’ll take that nap first.” “Sorry. I know I’m pushing, but the sooner it’s no longer an issue, the safer Liam will be.” “I know that. Nevertheless, if we don’t do it right, there will be negative repercussions and not just for

you. Let me do my job and make some phone calls. I promise I’ll have some answers by dinner.” J.B. stuck his head into the room. “I’m going to check with the men on the perimeter and then back to my office to make some calls. I should have more information for you by later this afternoon.” “You might as well come for dinner, J.B.,” Liam said. “Everyone else will be here.” Milo gave Liam a long look and followed it up with a hard hug. “What was that for?” Liam asked. “I don’t need a reason to love you, baby. I just do. Come on, let’s go up to our room and take advantage of the gardens. After that, maybe we could take a siesta?” Milo asked. “Sounds like a plan to me. Come on.” Liam held out his hand. “Show me your masterwork.” “Would you like to use your old guitar while I work in the garden?” Milo asked. “You still have it?” “They left it behind and I refused to part with it because it used to be yours,” Milo answered. Liam held Milo’s hand tighter, abruptly realizing how much Milo cared and had always cared for him. They made their way up to the studio level. Milo’s studio would impress any artist. It came equipped with a state-of-the-art recording studio, plus video and graphics editing capacity. Milo silently led him into a second large room, to the left of the first. It also opened out to the garden, a section that Liam had yet to see. Liam looked around in fascination. “This room is like a memorial to Shattered Glass,” Liam commented as he glanced at the posters, fliers, and sheet music encased in glass. “Look a little closer. For me, it was never about Shattered Glass. It stopped being about the band a long time ago. I don’t want to leave you, but I’ve got to make a few calls to bring in extra staff and touch base with Conchita. Would you mind waiting here?” asked Milo. “Haven’t I always waited, Milo?” “That’s funny, baby, I always thought I waited for you.” Milo picked up Liam’s hand and kissed his wrist. “I won’t be long.” Liam decided to examine the contents of the room. Some of the gigs represented on the walls he didn’t even remember. Some others stood out in vivid color in his head. Yet every one of the posters, potential album cover shots, fliers, and publicity stills shared one feature in common—him. In each and every one of the varied media, he was the focus. This isn’t a memorial to Shattered Glass, Liam thought.This is a memorial to me, to Milo and me, and what we had together, and maybe to what he wants back. But, do I want it to be that way or different? Liam remembered a time in Rumson, just before the breakup. He had hugged Milo without thinking during rehearsal. Milo stormed into the house. “You can’t do that, Liam, not in public!” Liam shouted, “We fucking live together, Milo. Don’t you think the roadies know by now? We only

book one hotel room when we travel. The room smells like sex when they come in. They already know. Who are you hiding from? Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed of what we are?” Milo recoiled. “I’m not ashamed. I have to worry about the band. You have no responsibilities. I do. The people who work for us depend on the band’s success to make their living. If we die, they die. If the fans find out that we’re gay, poof, no fucking fans!” “People will buy our music if they like our music, gay or straight. They buy Elton John, Boy George, Melissa Etheridge. Why not Shattered Glass?” Liam roared back. “Because we are a fucking pop rock band, and our fan base is ’tween and teen girls whose mothers wouldn’t approve of posters of gay men on their walls,” Milo shouted at Liam as he turned and stomped up the stairs. Liam followed him and said in a quieter voice, “Then why don’t we start writing material for grown-ups? Stuff we actually want to get up onstage and perform? Let’s stretch ourselves, Milo. We can write better music, appeal to a broader audience. Would it be so bad if we didn’t make a zillion dollars a year? How much can we spend?” “You don’t know what anything costs, do you?” “I know what everything costs. This secrecy is costing us precious time together. It’s hurting the integrity of our music, and it’s turning the band into what you swore we would never become.” “And what is that?” Milo sneered. “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, with emphasis on the sex and drugs. Shit! The music is already down the crapper.” “Is that what you talk about with your little roadie friends?” Milo barked. “How Shattered Glass is a band made up of has-beens and how a cutie like you should go solo?” They argued their way straight to the bedroom, as usual. Liam sat on the side of the bed. “I don’t want to go solo. I just want us to try some new music. Who is telling you this shit? Bart?” “Maybe Bart knows what he’s talking about. After all, you want to change everything.” “No, Milo. I don’t want to change anything. I just want us all to be friends and brothers again, the way we all were before Bart.” Liam spat out the name like the poison he knew the man to be. “I want it to be about the music again, rather than the money.” “He contributes to the band,” Milo said. “He’s a mediocre drummer. Sam played the drums better than him. There are hundreds of drummers out there better than Bart, better than Sam for that matter, who aren’t as nasty and don’t have agendas.” Liam’s voice broke. “What kind of agenda?” Milo asked. “The agenda of taking you away from me and breaking up the band, that agenda.”

“You are such a child sometimes, baby. Come here to me…”

****

“Baby, come back. You went somewhere else completely. Caught in a daydream, love?” Milo asked. “By the look on your face, it seemed to be an unpleasant one. Can I make it better?” “Actually, some days it felt like paradise, and some days I burned in hell. I remembered a time at our house in Rumson, a month or so before it all fell down around my head. We argued about coming out of the closet and our music.” Liam shivered. “Ourheads, baby. It came down on us both. I remember that argument. You tried to tell me about Bart. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen.” “I coasted through life back then, Milo. You were right. I hadn’t developed a sense of responsibility. We could not have abruptly changed our style without repercussions. It hurt a lot of people when we broke up. I did what I could for most of them, but I did not weigh my responsibilities against the cost of change.” “You might have been naïve, but you got it right. Our music got stale, our tempers grew short, the band had a drug problem, andwe had a problem that I refused to see.” Milo grabbed Liam’s old guitar in one hand and Liam in the other. “Let’s talk in the garden. You’ll like it.” “How many gardens do you have?” Liam asked, as they ducked out of the studio level into a walled garden that resembled some of the Moorish courtyards he’d seen in books. A fountain attached to a wall spurted water from a lion’s mouth. A second fountain funneled into a pond where the water tumbled over some rocks and disappeared into a quiet pool. “There is one for every level of the house, and three special gardens. I guess that makes seven all together. None of them are large with the exception of this one, because it hits the small plateau and therefore sits at ground level. The pond serves as a pool of sorts. It’s not for swimming, more for soaking and relaxing.” “The gardens are beautiful. They remind me of the quiet times, the times when you let me in to really see you. They hold the same beauty I always saw in your soul.” “Back then I didn’t have a soul, baby. The garden became a reflection of what I saw in yours.” Milo put the guitar down on a padded bench and pulled Liam into his arms, drawing him close. Milo whispered, “Please tell me what it would take to make it work between us again.” “I don’t want you to be anyone other than who you are. I’ve always loved you. It’s the circumstances that have to change. Not just for my sake but for yours, too.” “Tell me what’s on your mind. I need to know what I’m facing.” This time, Liam grabbed Milo. He pulled the bigger man down into his arms on a double lounge chair. They lay side by side, their bodies pressed together. Milo clung to Liam and whispered, “Baby, did you

think that you were the only one who needed? I needed you so bad I was sick with it.” Liam stroked the back of Milo’s head. “There never could never be anyone but you for me. When I fell down the rabbit hole and started indiscriminately fucking around, one thing I knew when I finally came up for air was that no one would ever be able to tell me again that I didn’t know what or who I wanted.” Milo looked up from Liam’s chest. “Baby, I hate it that I pushed you into the thing I feared the most. What’s worse is what happened to you afterward. Sex, even with someone you don’t love, can be good, but that didn’t happen for you.” “No, Milo, it didn’t.” Liam stroked Milo’s cheek. “That’s because, for me, sex without you is nothing. For me it was you and no one else.” “How do we get it back? Not only the sex, although I want you so bad that my cock is going to fall off, but how do we get back the trust, the love?” “You build it, one day at a time,” Liam whispered. “Now take me to your bed and have your way with me. I want you. I need to feel you inside me.” “Are you sure?” Milo asked. “If I take you, I’ll keep you. I won’t let you go, because I couldn’t do it again. I never learned to live without you. I only found out how to mark sixty-minute increments on a clock, not how to live.” “Milo, whatever it is, we’ll work it out. As long as I know you love me, everything else is chump change.” Milo grinned. “Then how about right here? The courtyard is locked, and I have the only key.” “Get naked, honey,” Liam said. “I want to feel you.” Milo whisked off his jeans and struggled out of his tight T-shirt when he heard it rip. Milo looked at Liam in amazement. His baby ripped the shirt right off his body. “I am yours, always,” Liam said, “but now I’m a grown gay man, out of the closet and comfortable with his needs. What I need is you. As one man needs another, as equal partners, friends, and lovers, that’s what you’re facing. That’s what I need. Can you do that? Treat me as an equal? Make decisions with me for us, instead of for me or us? Can you trust me enough to believe me when I tell you I love you and that I would never cheat? If you can, take me, make me yours, again. You have my body, my heart, and my soul. You always did.” “Yes, you are a man, but you’re still my baby. I reserve the right to try to protect those I love from harm, but I will consult with you, trust you, and love you. This time, it’s your turn, Liam O’Shea. You take me.”

****

Liam rolled over on top of Milo. He knew what they both needed and that neither of them would last

long. Determined to give it his best shot, Liam began showering Milo with hot, wet kisses. He scraped his tongue around the rim of Milo’s ear, nipping sharp bites along the lobe. He kissed his face, smoothing Milo’s brows with his tongue and thumb. Moving down his jaw to his throat, Liam sucked up a mark on the skin atop the sinew connecting his shoulder and arm. He licked, bit, and sucked his way from pit to paw, putting each finger in his mouth, making sucking and fucking motions. Milo went wild beneath him, attempting over and over to wrest back control, but Liam would have none of it. He moved his head to the golden whorls of hair on Milo’s chest and sighed in near ecstasy as he rubbed his face and nose into its familiar texture and smell. This was home. The feel of Milo’s chest against his cheek, the abrasion of his hair against his own bare chest spoke to Liam of whispered love words and long, sweaty nights under white curtains fluttering in a breeze from the sea. This became his new reality. The sun set the courtyard ablaze. The sky loomed clear, without a single cloud, and the mountain towered above them while they made love to the fountain’s tinkling. Liam bit the nubs that stood up from the cocoa aureoles that lay hidden on the hard pecs beneath the golden fur. The hair covered Milo’s chest and came to a V-shaped trail just underneath. Liam followed the trail with his tongue, stopping to explore and re-familiarize himself with his favorite bits and pieces—the deep cavity of his lover’s navel and the small round beauty mark on his stomach near his left hip. Milo seized his head and tried to bring it where he needed it to be, but Liam refused. “You have to wait, my love. Today, you wait for me. You put me in charge, so I’m in charge. If you’d like, I could improvise a cock ring.” Milo hissed, “You’re evil. What happened to my naïve, eager-to-please baby?” Liam tweaked one of Milo’s nipples and said, “He spent a great deal of lonely time on the Net watching instructive videos.” “Oh shit, you’ve become a porn addict! Oh, yes, Liam, please do that again.” “You said?” “Instructional videos…ahhh.” At that moment, Liam took Milo’s huge member and swallowed it whole. He massaged the sides with his throat and tongue and began to work it with his hand. He sucked at the crown and nibbled the long vein on the underside. He took Milo back into his mouth and began to throat fuck him in earnest. Liam gave Milo the blow job of his life. His mouth moved everywhere. He licked the underside of Milo’s balls and bit and sucked his perineum. Liam’s tongue teased around the area of Milo’s bright pink rosette as Milo moaned in anticipation. He flicked his tongue, teasing around the periphery of Milo’s opening. Then, suddenly, he plunged his tongue into Milo’s hole as far as it could reach. Taking his thumbs, aided by the moisture generated by his mouth, tongue and Milo’s pre-cum, Liam began to stretch Milo open with his thumbs. “Lube?” he asked. “Under the cushion,” Milo rasped. “Deviant. You planned this.”

“Yes, but please, don’t stop now. You’re driving me insane.” Liam no longer felt afraid to try something new. There would be no more jealous rages and asking where he’d learned such a thing. Miloknew now. He told him everything. Liam picked up the pace and power of his suction. He rolled Milo’s balls beneath his fingers and felt his body get ready to cum. Milo grabbed his hair. Liam took the tube of lube and squeezed a fair amount around Milo’s hole and his fingers. As he plunged his tongue in and out he alternated the rhythm, using his fingers to scissor the opening and stretch Milo’s guardian muscle. When Liam felt Milo fully open, he turned him over so that they lay face to face. “I want to see you as I make love to you, my darling. I want to remember the look on your face as I enter you.” “Please, don’t make me wait. I’m ready to shoot.” Liam aligned his cock with Milo’s hole and plunged inside. Milo’s cried in ecstasy, not pain, “Harder, baby, harder. I need to feel you.” Liam established a rhythm and Milo’s face shone with both lust and love. “I’m gonna—” “Not yet,” said Liam as he took his long fingers and wrapped them around the base of Milo’s cock.“Now tell me,” Liam said in a fierce voice, “who do you belong to?” “You, Liam. I belong to you.” “Yes, you belong to me, and never, ever forget it again.” Milo bit down on Liam’s shoulder and Liam howled with pleasure. Liam’s cock pulsated with effort as it pumped streams of cum into Milo’s ass. Liam shot a prayer up to the gods.Please don’t let this be the last time. Let this be a beginning, not an end. After, they lay together quietly, Liam resting on Milo’s chest. Both men felt boneless from the sheer magnitude of the release. Liam reached over and picked up a towel and wiped the cum from Milo’s stomach. “Was it really good for you? Do I please you in bed? You’ve never told me if I please you in bed. I don’t want you to ever have to go elsewhere,” Liam teased. Milo countenance took a serious mien. “I can’t think of a time when you didn’t drive me mad with lust. You are my life. Sometimes you broke my heart, but I always wanted and needed you more than my next breath. Where would you have gotten such a crazy notion?” “From the source of all crazy notions in Shattered Glass—Bart. I was eighteen years old when we first made love, and all bravado, no real bravery. I reached for what I wanted, but feared to question you about your feelings or to examine mine. I knew you wanted me, but I didn’t know if you loved and needed me the way I needed you. You never said you loved me, except once, in the grip of passion. I didn’t know if you loved me and just assumed I knew it, or couldn’t say what would be a lie. Bart used to torture me about that.” Liam mimicked Bart. “‘Did he ever say I love you while he was sober and didn’t have your hand on his dick?’ It hurt more than it should have because you never did.”

“Never didwhat ? Please clarify,” Milo asked abruptly. “As I told you before, except for that one time, you only said you loved me when your dick was in my ass,” Liam replied, angry that he needed to say it again out loud. “You’re right, I didn’t. It was deliberate. Liam, you can’t possibly understand how I reacted to you back then. I worshiped you. I lived every day just to come home and hold you. You held my heart in your hand and you didn’t even know it. You made hard and fast friendships and completely excluded me from them. I was scared of what I felt for you, ashamed of being gay, I tried to have it both ways. I wanted to keep you a secret. I was wrong. I lost everything the moment you walked out the door. I’ve told you a dozen times since you arrived yesterday, and I’ll tell you as many times a day as you need to hear it for the rest of our lives. I love you, baby, only you.” Milo sat on the chaise next to Liam. “Can you forgive me?” “Forgive you? I should be begging your pardon. Yes, I flirted. I wanted your attention anyway I could obtain it. I didn’t shut you out of my friendships so much as I didn’t invite you to join in them. I made friends of ordinary people, for the most part, and I feared you’d look down your nose at them.” “We should have talked more. But every time I saw you all I wanted to do was throw you down on the nearest flat surface and fuck you till you screamed my name.” Milo whispered. Both men began to nod off. “Liam, baby, we need to get under the portico or we’ll burn. We can sleep on the chaise inside.” The lovers rolled the chaise until it sat just out of the reach of the sun, then, exhausted from the emotional outlay as well as the physical exertion, they fell asleep in each other’s arms for the second time in twenty-four hours after years apart.

****

A few hours later, Liam opened his eyes and found Conchita standing at the end of the lounge and staring at their naked bodies. He poked Milo. “I knocked. You didn’t answer,” she said. “Go away,” Milo groaned. Liam made a grab for his pants, but Milo pulled him back to the chaise. “I will stand here until you get up, Mr. Milo. Mr. Sam says it is important that I get you out of bed. You too, little one. Sam says he needs you both downstairs.” “Milo,” Liam growled, “we are exposing our bare asses to your housekeeper. Conchita, I apologize. Would you hand me one of those towels near the pond? Then I’ll go somewhere and dress more appropriately.” Conchita padded off to get him a towel. “Damn it, you said no one had the key to this courtyard, that it was private.” “No one has a key but Conchita. She does have to clean it. She said she knocked and we didn’t

answer.” “Maybe she should have knocked a bit louder,” Liam retorted. “Probably, but since I’ve never had a lover in the house, I didn’t think of asking her to knock. I’m sorry it made you uncomfortable, baby. You never used to be so uptight about public displays of affection. As I recall, I was the ass in that department.” Milo smiled at Liam and kissed his nose. “Damn you. How can I stay angry when you go and do that to me? I like public displays of affection, but not public displays of my manly attributes or lack thereof,” Liam said with a trace of annoyance. “Are you officially out of the closet?” “I don’t know what you mean by officially. I don’t date women. I’ve always loved you. End of story.” “But you have a solo career now,” Milo persisted. “Have you told anyone that you are gay?” Liam shrugged. “No one has asked. I think they all assumed I was. I’m not the manly type. Besides, I don’t usually give interviews unless it is about the music. The paparazzi buzz around, but I never paid much attention. They never got anything on me because I’m a pretty boring guy.” “More like you have made yourself a prisoner in your own home because of a stalker, and because I had shit for brains,” Milo shot back. Liam threw his hands up in exasperation. “What does this have to do with Conchita seeing my dick? I’m trying to show your housekeeper some respect here.” “Oh, then you don’t object to Conchita knowing you’re gay and that we are lovers?” Milo asked in a mild voice. “Milo,” he answered, his patience hanging by a thread, “I never objected to being known as your lover. I would have shouted it from the rooftops, if you let me. I was proud that you loved me. Why the fuck are we having this argument?” “We aren’t having an argument, only a discussion. I wanted to make sure you still felt that way. Go put your pants on. I need to speak to Sam.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Dying in the Light”

Yesterday dawned dark and dreary

I walked alone in the shadows of night My heart felt tired and weary Needing someone to hold me tight I died there in the light Dying in the light I’m alive in your arms tonight I’m all aglow in your love so bright I’m finally doing something right I’m alive in your arms tonight Not Dying in the Light

—Milo Stamis, March 2009(work in progress)

****

Milo popped into Liam’s room and caught him coming out of the shower. “Baby, put on some clothes. There’s a friend of mine downstairs I’d like you to meet.” “Who is it?” “Esteban, the priest I told you about. He knows about us, and he’s an important person in my life. I’d like you to meet him before we talk to Sam. That is, if you don’t mind.” “I hate to sound like a cliché, but any friend of yours—” “Thank you, baby. We’ll be in the studio. I need to get out of here. Looking at you with just a towel wrapped around your middle is too tempting.”

****

Twenty minutes later, Liam came up to the studio, having showered, shaved and changed into a clean T-shirt and pants, but still barefoot.

“You really didn’t bring any good clothing, did you?” Milo asked. He looked down at Liam’s feet. “Do you own shoes?” “What kind of clothing do I need? You always wanted me naked before, and when I did dress you didn’t care what I wore unless I was supposed to be on stage and in costume,” Liam teased, “And yes, I own shoes. I just don’t like to wear them.” Liam turned and saw the back of an older man’s head. He blushed. “I like seeing you blush, baby. However, you don’t need to be embarrassed by Esteban.” The gentleman in the chair stood up and turned to face Liam. Liam’s face turned white with shock. “Father Steve,you’re Milo’s Esteban?” The older man walked over to Liam, took both of his hands, and kissed him on both cheeks. “You know Esteban?” Milo asked. “Yes,” the priest answered, “although I’m surprised that Liam remembers me. The last time I saw him he was only five.” “Father Steve used to come to my house with Mr. Cheever to visit Dad,” Liam sputtered. “Walt Cheever acted as the lawyer for the Princeton parish where I worked as an assistant pastor. We became friends and he introduced me to Frank. It shocked me when Frank was murdered.” “Murdered? Someone murdered my father?” “Lily never told you?” “Mom told me she moved us to Hazlet to get away from her memories of Dad’s death.” “Your mother moved away for many reasons. She feared the suspect, Bart Henderson. When Walter died, I suspected Bart’s hand in the supposed mugging, but the Trenton police could never prove anything, just as the Princeton police didn’t have enough evidence to nail the bastard when your father died. He ran him off the road.” Liam collapsed into the blue leather chaise. “Who the hell is Bart Henderson? Why didn’t Mom tell me any of this?” “I suspect she didn’t want to frighten you. You were so young, and after she died, it was too late. I spoke to Walt the night before he died. He planned on going to Carnegie Hall for the Shattered Glass concert on your eighteenth birthday. He never made it. The police found a ticket in his pocket.” “BartHenderson? Jesus, Milo, I hope this is a coincidence.” “Esteban,” Milo said, “you never told me you knew Liam.” “I didn’t say anything because of church policy. I counseled Lily, so the information became privileged. I also needed to make sure you meant him no harm. When Paco came to church today and told me Liam

arrived here and the danger you faced, I felt I must come visit and tell you what little I knew. I hope I haven’t lost your trust, Milo.” “No, Esteban, protecting Liam has always been my first priority. I wish I knew this years ago.” “Walter told me he planned to tell you about Bart on the night of the concert. Lily didn’t want Liam to know, but after her death when Liam attained his majority, Walt felt he discharged his obligation to Lily and thought he should let you decide what to tell him.” Liam interrupted. “Father Steve, please. I’m confused. Who is Bart Henderson, and why would he want to hurt my dad?” “Bart was the son of your father’s former girlfriend. Frank ended the relationship soon after he met Lily. Bart kept calling Frank, claiming that Frank was his natural father. Although Frank felt sorry for Bart, they had no biological relationship. Frank finally reluctantly reported Bart for stalking. I believe Bart did some time in Jamesburg, the New Jersey juvenile facility. They released Bart a few months before your father’s murder. When Paco told me that a man by the name of Bart stalked Liam, I hurried over here to see if a possible connection existed and to offer my testimony to the police if it did. Do you have a picture of Bart Hedge?” Milo, who paced the floor, went to a drawer and pulled out a publicity shot of the band. He pointed at Bart Hedge and asked in a strained voice, “Is this the same man?” Esteban looked at the photo with care. “Yes, my friend, I believe it is.” “Shit.” “Father Steve,” Liam asked, “how did you wind up in New Mexico?” “Let’s just say that my views on certain issues diverge from the Vatican’s. Milo and I have discussed this. I’ve spent twenty years in this small parish, trying to make things better for my Latino and Native American congregation. I believe the Church thought I would be able to do some good here, and yet be without an audience where I could potentially cause the diocese embarrassment.” “Esteban, I think you need to speak to J.B., our security consultant. Would you mind going downstairs to the kitchen and asking Conchita to introduce you? I need to speak with Liam.” “Of course. I’m here to provide whatever help you need. I loved Liam as a child, and you have become a close friend over the last months, and well as the parish’s chief benefactor.” The priest went over to Liam’s chair and kissed him on the forehead. “Bless you, son. You have a wonderful man. You two need to communicate better. If you need couples counseling, I would be happy to help.” “Thank you, Father Steve,” Liam said, almost on autopilot. When Esteban left the room, Milo sat at the end of the chaise and took the now weeping Liam into his arms. “Why would Mom hide something that vital from me? Or from you, for that matter? She knowingly put you in danger.”

“No, Liam. I believe Lily thought both of you were safe after she disappeared from Princeton. I always thought it strange that none of her friends from your old life ever visited. However, I put it down to Lily’s desire to get over the hurdle of her grief. She hid you well. But, you’re right, she should have told us. It would have been better to be forewarned.” He sighed. “I didn’t expect this when I arranged the gig with Sam this afternoon.” “What gig?” “Let’s go down to the courtyard and meet with Sam. I was going to ask you about this before Esteban’s visit, but you may not want to do this now. Could you put on some shoes just in case?” Liam and Milo walked down the stairs in silence, each of them lost in thought.

****

Downstairs…

“Before our conversation with Esteban, I arranged a gig for us,” Milo quickly said. “A gig? I haven’t played with you and the guys for years. I thought you said it would be different. We should talk about these things. Wait, Sam said a few tour dates, but I’m not ready to perform with you guys yet. We just started working out our problems. You should have asked.” “Baby, this isn’t something you have to do. This is something I’m going to do, and I’m sort of inviting you along. I’d like to have you there with me,” Milo said in soft voice, “when I crawl out of the closet.” “What are you talking about?” Liam, looking a bit befuddled, sat on the lounge on which they’d made love only a few hours before. “I have an interview scheduled by satellite from the Albuquerque television station that carriesThe Ellen DeGeneres Show . I plan on outing myself on national television. If you come with me, Bart will have nothing to hold over us ever again.” “What about Sam and Rick? They also have reputations to consider.” “Sam made the arrangements. He thinks Rick will be free to break away from Bart if we have no more secrets to hide. Besides, both of them are straight.” “The press will ask tough questions,” Liam said. “I know Ellen is sympathetic, but you had custody of me for years. Bart always threatened me with going to the press and telling outrageous lies. How do we prove it isn’t true?” “We know the truth, I don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore. We had enough witnesses, the roadies and groups who traveled with us, they all knew I refused to go near you that way. After all, one

of your favorite games was to throw yourself at me and wait for my reaction.” Milo grinned. “I should have known better.” “That doesn’t answer my question. I have to do two things. The first is for me—actually, for us—and that is to be honest with myself and everyone around me about who and what I am. “The second thing I need to do is for Rick. Rick did many things wrong, but some of those things he did because he tried to protect the band. Sam and I talked about this and we realized that we marginalized Rick. It became obvious to Rick, even before you joined the band, that you held first priority in my life. Then, suddenly, you became a priority in Sam’s life, too. We think Rick felt like you took his place. But he adapted. He became your friend. Until Bart came along and—” Liam interrupted. “Bart was poison. What’s more, he came to us with a personal grudge and a plan to destroy me, us. He succeeded in destroying the band. Hell, he succeeded in destroying us. And after what we heard from Father Steve, I know it’s him stalking me.” “Is this an exclusive party, or can anyone join?” Milo turned to see J.B. entering the courtyard. “If it was a private party, it isn’t anymore,” Milo answered. “Come on in. I suppose Sam is right behind you?” “Yeah, he’s getting anxious for an answer for the network people,” J.B. said. After a pause, he continued. “I have a few things both of you should know before you agree to speak on television. I don’t want you to be blindsided.” “What are you talking about?” Liam and Milo asked, almost in unison. “Bart Hedge. My operative back East did a lot of digging. Truthfully, Mr. Hedge didn’t try very hard to cover his tracks. Like many sociopaths, he apparently left a trail on purpose because it amused him. Our Mr. Hedge is quite the mystery man, and a potentially explosive problem. Bart Hedge is Bart Henderson.” “Father Sanchez just told us,” Liam said. J.B. held up his hand in such a Lily-type gesture that Liam backed off to let him continue. “Bart was born in 1964, not 1974. He’s also the only suspect in your father’s murder, Liam.” “Esteban said he was pushed off the road over an embankment. Do you know any more about what happened?” “Frank O’Shea drove a Honda Civic, the perp, a Land Rover SUV. The Land Rover weighed over four thousand pounds. Frank never had a chance. The SUV headed straight for the driver’s side of the vehicle and pushed Frank over an embankment. The perp swiped the Land Rover from a dealership in Northern New Jersey. According to the police report, they found it dumped on a side street in Newark two days after the accident. The police found no prints inside the vehicle. Only paint from the Honda proved it to be the murder vehicle. Since it was stolen, it couldn’t be traced back to an owner. The local police didn’t have anything to go on. They suspected Bart Henderson, but never gathered enough evidence to present to a grand jury. The story made headlines in the Trenton area.”

“I don’t understand.” Liam looked confused. “Why would Bart kill my dad and want to hurt me or my mother? I already know his mom had a relationship with my father, but why would that inspire murder?” “Frank O’Shea had a life before he met your mother, Liam. Frank had fifteen years on Lily, and his entanglement with Bart’s mother went on for seven years. They even lived together for a while. Chrissy Henderson led a promiscuous lifestyle. Never even knew for sure the name of Bart’s father, but from information my guy got from the neighbors, she always told Bart he belonged to Frank.” Liam’s mouth dropped open as his shoulders slumped. J.B. said, “Liam, you aren’t related. If I didn’t have a blood test that proved that, the neighbors would testify to that truth. Chrissy didn’t stop screwing around when Frank moved in, and he didn’t like it. Frank left, not knowing how attached her then adolescent son became to him, or why.” “So Bart was my father’s ex-girlfriend’s son.” Liam shook his head. “It’s quite a stretch to say that a kid would commit murder because of someone with whom his mother had a relationship, and from what you said, Frank was only one of many. What would that have to do with Mom and me?” “Your father dated Bart’s mother on and off for seven years,” Milo observed. “That’s more than enough time for Bart to become attached to Frank and jealous over the attention someone new would receive. Do you remember how fast we became friends? Maybe Bart felt that way about your dad.” Milo pulled Liam a little closer in his arms, as if sensing Liam needed the security of the familiar at that moment. “Even if he didn’t,” J.B. continued, “Chrissy encouraged him. She wanted a firm hold on Frank O’Shea and Frank’s money. She knew Frank longed for a son. She put Bart in the position to be the son Frank needed, or so the neighbors said.” “So maybe,” Milo supposed, “Chrissy forced Bart to attach to Frank as a father figure. It’s not like the kid had another alternative. Am I right, J.B.?” J.B. held up his hand. “Before you guys do the profile, let me give you what we have. One, Bart Hedge is Bart Henderson. Father Sanchez confirmed that from a sheaf of photos Sam produced from his briefcase. Two, he was a suspect, but never arrested for the murder of Frank O’Shea. And three, he inserted himself into Liam’s life under false pretenses and did damage to Liam under his assumed identity. Anyone in their right mind would assume under these circumstances that Bart meant Liam harm. However, the court system doesn’t assume. The additional testimony that Father Sanchez can provide will be helpful. Even so, all of the evidence we have so far is circumstantial. The courts will only deal in facts. We have some facts, but none of them indicate that Liam is in physical danger, especially since he neglected to report the earlier incidents.” J.B. threw Liam an arched look. Liam stared him down and said to Milo, “You said something before the hordes descended. What did you want to do for Rick?” Milo looked around. “This is kind of a public place to discuss this, baby, and I did want to discuss it. I don’t want to put you in a bad position or do anything to damage the tentative trust we’ve established. I won’t do anything that you don’t want to do. I can’t lose you again, even for Sam.” Milo looked over at Sam, who’d just entered the courtyard. “I’m sorry, buddy. It’s just the way it is.” “It’s okay. Liam has to have a say in it, too. I would have preferred not to spring this all on him at once.” “Lily always said, ‘needs must when the devil drives.’ Now out with it, both of you.”

Milo and Sam looked at Liam in amazement, then Milo said, “Do you know how much you sounded like Lily right then?” “Maybe I did for a reason. Lily always got straight answers. Now, please,” Liam said. “What does Rick need?” “How did you know that I wanted to do something for Rick?” Sam asked. “I sure didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes. You told us Rick needed the money from a tour and Rick was always emotionally needy and no one ever noticed. I’m angry at Rick, but he’s been in rehab four times this past year. He needs something more than rehab, so tell me, what does Rick need besides financial help?” “When I confronted him about Bart this morning, he confessed it all to me and wanted me to tell you he bad he felt. He knows he did this to himself, the band, his physical condition, everything.” Sam continued. “Rick felt like Shattered Glass would be his only legacy. He pinned his whole sense of self on that image, singer in a rock and roll band. That is why he fought you so hard against outing Bart as a dealer. He thought it would break up the band. When Bart promised to take him along to a real hard rock band, instead of a pop group, Rick jumped at the chance but only lasted a few months. After that, it was bubble gum, and it killed him. Shattered Glass disintegrated right before his eyes no matter what he did. It seemed to him he fought a losing battle.” Sam sank into one of the lounge chairs. “Rick didn’t know Bart worked at cross-purposes to him. He knew Bart wanted Milo, but Rick figured if Bart could get him, then Liam’s relationship with Milo was worth shit anyway, and Liam would be better off,” Sam explained. “At least that’s what he said on the phone this morning.” “You knew this?” Milo fumed at Sam. “I only know what he told me after I confronted him with what we found out.” “Hush, Milo,” Liam said. “In that respect, Rick was right. If I couldn’t hold you and keep you by my side, then I shouldn’t have been with you, nor you with me, Bart or no Bart.” Milo broke in. “I think everyone in this room knows by now that if Bart told you to get an umbrella for rain, you should break out the sunscreen. The man is a pathological liar and a cheat. We’ll get him, but in the meantime, please, Liam, forget anything he said that pertained to us. He lied. He lied to both of us.” J.B. said, “I understand that Bart had psychological problems, but Rick? Why did Rick betray you and Milo?” “You answered that yourself earlier today.” Milo said. “Rick felt jealous of Liam. When Bart came along and made Liam’s life a little harder, it took no skin off Rick’s nose.” Liam put his hand on Milo’s arm. “I did need to be taken down a few pegs. I became arrogant. I wanted to flaunt a relationship that could be detrimental to the band’s semi wholesome image. I presented a danger to Rick’s sense of self and his livelihood. On top of that, he couldn’t think straight. Hedge drugged him up.”

“Thank you, Liam,” Sam added. “You don’t need to defend him. I know Rick fucked up, and I’m ashamed of what he did, especially if he played a role in keeping you and Milo apart.” “What’s done is done,” Liam impatiently said. “Now, will someone please tell me what it is that Rick needs?” Sam answered, “A farewell tour for Shattered Glass. I think I mentioned this when I talked to you earlier. The band dissolved with a whimper. Everyone just left. Milo and Liam weren’t the only ones who dealt with the fallout. After Liam recovered, he went out of his way to help the roadies and support personnel. Milo did what he could for the back-up musicians and singers—” “But no one looked after Rick.” Milo said. “Bart just brought him further down into the gutter and left him there, only showing his face when he needed help to torment Liam.” Sam said, “I harangued Rick about the drugs and never looked into the why of it. Lily told Milo and I that we needed to take better care of Rick, but we didn’t hear her or didn’t listen. It doesn’t matter which, either produced the same result.” “We didn’t listen because Rick never complained,” Milo countered. “Everyone else made their needs known. Liam pouted, I roared, and as for Sam, he just needed to ask. Bart had studied each of us in turn and learned which button to push to get whatever reaction he needed to get his way. Everyone had a method or means to get what they wanted—everyone but Rick.” “What would a tour give him?” Liam asked. “Closure,” Sam replied. “If the four of us—you, me, Milo and Rick— could make one last tour, then Rick could leave the rock world with a bang instead of a sputter. It would also provide him with a little financial security.” “Of course, I’ll do it,” Liam said. “Rick needed us, and we all turned a blind eye. We didn’t act like the brothers we promised to be, remember? We made a pact. Rick did his best under very difficult circumstances. I want to be there for him.” “Security will be a nightmare,” J.B. protested. “Especially with Bart stalking Liam. We can’t even get a restraining order because Liam’s never filed a complaint.” “Cut the crap, J.B.,” Milo said. “We’ll pay the freight, whatever it is. And if, sometime during the tour we catch this bastard either trying to entice Rick into using, or torturing small animals to make Liam crazy, we’ll get him. Then this will be over and we’ll be free to live our lives in peace.” “Deal,” Liam agreed. “What do I tell the network people about the interview?” Sam wanted to know. Liam answered, “Tell them they are getting a twofer. I’m going on the air with him. It’s my story too, mine and Lily’s as well as Milo’s. I might as well be a part of telling it.” J.B. piped in, “You both know you can’t accuse Hedge of murder. The only thing you can prove is that he tried to pry the two of you and the band apart.” “That and the drugs. That’s not hearsay. I saw that with my own two eyes.” Liam’s eyes shot fire.

“I’m afraid you can’t go there either,” Sam added. “Why can’t I?” “Because, as your lawyer, I’m telling you that you will open yourself up to a huge lawsuit that will ruin you, Milo, and Shattered Glass.” “Okay, then.” Liam sighed. “We’ll bait the trap. I guess I just became a bit of tasty cheddar.”

Chapter Nineteen

Untitled

Lover, goddamn you, Liam, where are you? You know I didn’t mean it!

—Milo Stamis, 2002(song notes, unrecorded)

****

The reporter for NBC news arrived. Liam and Milo spilled their hearts out on camera to interviewer Joe Menendez. “So what happens now, Liam?” Joe asked. “You have two successful solo albums. Milo, you have a bestselling book of poetry. Where do the two of you go from here?” Milo shrugged. “We’re reuniting Shattered Glass for one last tour and album. After that, Liam and I will go where our music takes us.” “But wherever that is,” Liam added, “it will be together, as a committed couple, out in public. We are who we are. We are as the gods made us. My mother saw that. If by coming out today, we inspire one parent to rethink their stand on their child’s sexuality, or one kid to come out and tell their parents the truth, then we have done something decent and worth the hassle.” Milo continued. “Our own secrecy left us vulnerable to blackmail and vicious lies. You can only

blackmail someone if they are ashamed, or made to feel ashamed of who and what they are.” His voice choked with emotion. “I am a gay American male, and I am proud of who I am. I am no more and no less than any other American. My sexual orientation is in my genes. It is not a disease or a psychiatric state. As an American, I am entitled to all the same rights and privileges that other Americans enjoy. If there is one thing our blackmailer has accomplished, it has been to make both Liam and myself activists in the cause of GLBT rights. I will not let anyone, ever again, deny me or deprive me of my right to be with Liam and his to be with me.” “Are you worried you will lose fans because you came out?” “I used to be, but not anymore. I don’t think Elton John is hurting for fans. Melissa Etheridge is selling records. There are GLBT recording artists, actors, comedians, lawyers, doctors, and carpenters. We are everywhere you are. We constitute about eight percent of the population. That is a larger portion of the population than some of our country’s most vocal minorities,” Milo stated. Liam took up their cause. “I have always given American music fans more credit than most. They are usually on the leading edge of any new musical direction, yet they insist on both technical expertise as well as artistic merit from their talent. Music is sold by the appeal of its sound, the purity of its line, merged with melody, harmony and lyrics that can invoke any human emotion with only a refrain. When you listen to music, you hear the sound as it caresses your ears and fires your imagination. It doesn’t really matter who wrote it. The music endures. “I think our fans will hear our music. If they love it, then they will download it, buy concert tickets, and ask other artists to cover it. The music, the melody plus the lyrics that make the song, are there long after the artist, be he an angel or a rogue is gone. The music is what matters in the end.” “Thank you Milo Stamis and Liam O’Shea. There you have it an NBC Magazine exclusive, inside one of the century’s hottest pop-rock bands, Shattered Glass. This is Joe Menendez saying goodnight for NBC.” Joe Menendez took off the mini microphone attached to his suit and the stage hands removed those on Liam and Milo. “I just want to let you guys know that none of the interview will end up on the cutting room floor. It will not be creatively doctored to make it seem as if you said something you didn’t say. I personally guarantee it. Let me re-introduce myself. My name is Joe Menendez, and I volunteered for this assignment because I am a gay man. Your story makes me angry. It makes me want to say never again. Here is my card. Call me, and we will talk about educating the populace on the meaning of the words tolerance and acceptance and civil rights. You did a very good thing today, but I think you also threw down the gauntlet to your blackmailer. You know who he is, don’t you?” “Off the record, yes we do,” Milo answered, “but we don’t have enough to put him away. He was a suspect in the murder of Liam’s father, and he forged a new identity to become a member of our band when Sam went to law school.” “Bart Hedge, the missing piece of the puzzle,” Joe said. “I knew whomever did this to you must be someone in the band or close to the band. Is there anything I can do to help?” “If you really want to help,” Milo said, “ask J.B. what he needs in the way of research. You have more sources than we could ever find, especially in fields other than entertainment.”

“Thanks, Joe,” Liam said. “I didn’t know what to expect, but gaining a friend is a pleasant surprise. Your offer of help is gratefully accepted.” “I’m a cat lover, you guys. I’d like to get that bastard in a room and find out what he did to Minor and Major. And then I’d break his goddamned neck like he did to the poor kittens. What a psycho.” Joe stood to leave. “Have a good afternoon, guys, or what’s left of it anyway. Call me.” Fifteen minutes later, the TV personnel, their wires, cameras, lighting, and equipment vanished from the house and loaded on the trucks. Milo, Liam, and Sam watched them from Milo’s second floor bedroom suite.

Chapter Twenty

“A Promise by Starlight”

Milo: In the depth of the night, by starlight bright I gaze upon your sleeping face So comfortable in my embrace I touch your hair, I kiss your eyes I lose myself between your thighs You waken and you turn to see Right through my skin to what I need You offer up your body sweet Which I devour till replete

Liam: You make my body glow, a gift only you bestow Can’t you see my body quake?

Anticipating every touch you make Only for you does my body sing To you forever, it does cling When we are intertwined I go from mundane to the sublime Only you can cause this heat Only with you I am complete

Milo and Liam: We can see there comes a time To make the pledge, forever mine My lover, my partner, and my best friend Mine until the universe ends Mine, my love, mine forever Our pledge now, let no man sever The gods approve of lasting love We have a blessing from above So here and now we take a stand Let love be, wherever it lands Women to women, man to man Let love be, wherever it lands.

—Windows to Forever, Shattered Glass (reunion album)

****

As they watched the trucks pull out of the drive, Liam turned to Milo and Sam. “It’s past time to bring Rick home. We should all go to pick him up, so he knows we love him and forgive what happened.” “You are way more forgiving than I could be,” Sam remarked. “But for my brother’s sake, I’m glad you are. Do we all go, Milo? It’s up to you.” “Yes, we all go. This time, rent a jet. Rick will need the privacy.” “Oh Lord, how the mighty have fallen,” said Liam, as he keeled over with laughter. “Baby, you are so going to pay for that. Sam, make sure the damn plane has a bed.” Conchita served dinner at five. J.B., Sam, Liam, and Milo all sat at the table with Joe Menendez, who Liam invited back to supper. Conchita surprised Liam by serving a savory all-American beef stew with root vegetables. She blushed a deep rose when Joe informed her that her sweet rolls were better than those hisabuela used to make. “Watch it, Joe,” J.B. warned. “In about five minutes, she’ll start plying you with good booze, and you won’t have a secret left to your name. Then she’ll start matchmaking. You poor sod, you don’t have a chance.” “My brother’snovio has a cousin, and he happens to be a reporter for—” “Wait a minute. Who told you I’m gay? I don’t hide it, but how did you know?” Joe asked. “You’ll find I have my ways, Mr. Joe,” Conchita answered, a bit smug. “She sure does, Joe,” Liam agreed. “I wasn’t here twenty-four hours before she managed to catch me in my birthday suit. Took a real good look, didn’t she, Milo?” “She surely did, baby, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Unless of course you want me to cut off our supply of sweet rolls.” “Nooo!” The table as a whole roared, laughing. “Hmph, whatever,” the lady in question said in dismissal. “Eat that stew, Mr. Liam. You will need something to stick to those skinny ribs of yours if you are going back east. Hopefully, you have enough sense not to stay there. You belong with Mr. Milo, but I tell you nothing you do not already know.” She swept back into the kitchen, the mistress of all she surveyed.” Liam had the good grace to blush and enough sense to keep his mouth shut and concede victory. Sam said, “We should all get some shut-eye after supper.” “Joe,” asked Milo, “are you sure you want to travel with us?” “Yeah, I’m sure,” Joe answered. “If there is going to be trouble, I want to be right there with you guys.” “To help them or to get your story?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“Why both, Sam. Both.” Joe grinned. “Joe,” Liam said, laughing and clapping him on the back, “you are going to fit right in.” “Yeah,” agreed Milo, “but do you happen to play the sax?” The whole table burst into laughter while Joe looked about in confusion. “I do,” he answered.” What’s wrong with that?” The laughter got louder. When some of the hilarity died down, Milo took pity on Joe and let him in on the joke. “Baby, here,” he said, pointing to Liam, “plays the saxophone, very well, in fact. But once he opened his mouth and sang like an angel, he became the lead singer of the band.” “Can’t sing with a saxophone. Anyway, they never let me play the sax,” Liam whined. “And just because he’s a brat, Liam put a saxophone into every piece of music he ever wrote for Shattered Glass,” Sam said. “And at the kick-off press conference for each album, some smart ass would always ask if we shot the sax player,” Milo added. “I don’t care what you idiots think, and that includes you, Milo. It would have sounded better with the sax.” “Why don’t we find out?” Milo suggested. “You up to it, Joe?” asked Liam. “Sure, as long as you don’t expect me to be Clarence Clemons.” “J.B. plays a bass guitar,” Sam piped up. “He could do Rick’s music.” “Sure, as long as this is just for fun.” Joe broke into a big grin. “I can drink for free forever on telling the story of how I jammed with Shattered Glass.” “Let’s get started. I have all the necessary instruments and music in the studio.” “What would you like to try, Joe?” asked Liam. “The tune I’d like to hear you guys sing is a cover you did that was always my favorite,Lover’s Suite . Does that have a part for a sax?” “Menendez, you nailed it,” Sam said with a smile. “Liam wrote that arrangement for Milo’s birthday the day our original singer left the band. He did his audition with it.” “I did,” Liam affirmed. “And Sam acted like a pokey bastard about both me and the sax until he heard me sing. Next thing, he ran down to Lily with Milo, asking her if I could join the band.” Liam stopped cold for a moment, and then softly continued, “Although I think you heard that tale once already today.” Joe answered, “It means even more now. I never would have associated it with my favorite track. It makes sense now. It’s the only cover Shattered Glass ever did. The arrangement is a thing of beauty,

genius, I always thought. You wrote it as a love song to Milo, didn’t you?” “Fuck, after all these years, finally someone figures it out,” Liam grumbled. Milo came up behind Liam and kissed him on the back of the neck. “I knew, baby. I always knew. That’s why it was the one song I never played all the time we were apart. So let’s do it now and see what Joe can do with a sax between his teeth.” They playedLover’s Suite first for a sound check and a second time to set the beats and cues. To Sam, Liam, and Milo it was déjà vu. To Joe and J.B., it was magical. Milo played the cord combo that repeated four times and slid his mellow voice over the intro.“Turn around...” Liam picked up his cue exactly three beats after Milo. “Know that I’m in love with you.” Then the lonely sound of a sax floated round the blended voices as they reached a crescendo. Liam hit the last stanza full voiced, and the sax made its own statement in conjunction with his voice.

Turn around look at the view Know that I’m in love with you, Waiting for the time you see That you can be in love with me It’s way too early to feel this way But I need you to let me stay Until the day you see me The lover who will set you free

“Fuck,” exclaimed Sam, “when we finally threw in the sax, it sounded even better than the original.” “I kept trying to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen,” Liam said, wagging his finger at his friend. Milo and J.B. laughed at the two of them until tears ran down their cheeks. Joe sat on his stool in astonishment that he actually had a part in making that awesome sound. A wake-up call became unnecessary. They jammed right up until it was time to leave the house to catch the plane. As Milo locked up and set his auto-timers for the gardens’ drip watering system, Liam looked around. “Milo, you’ll invite me back?” “Baby, this is your home now, too. You know, I sold the house in Rumson, but after a few years, I

bought it back. I couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else being there but you and me. That is also your home, if you want it to be. I don’t know how many ways I can say it. I love you. I need you, and I want you to be mine forever. Those words aren’t song lyrics, baby, they are my personal truth.” Milo pulled Liam back against him. Liam could feel Milo’s hard cock rubbing against his ass through the worn material of his blue jeans. “I was always yours, Milo, and it was always forever. This time, let’s just take the forever and add together,” Liam replied. “Brat.” “Yours.” “Always mine.” Milo, as usual, had the last word.

****

Five tired but happy men boarded the Gulfstream 550 taking off from the Double Eagle airport on the west side of Rio Rancho. It didn’t have the promised bedroom, but it did have seven divans, so that five men could be comfortable during the seven-hour flight to New Jersey. They landed at the Farmingdale/Belmar airport mid-afternoon. Sam arranged for the party to be met by a limousine and a private car. The car would carry Joe—who, with the permission of his producers, joined the entourage—and J.B. to the Rumson house to check on its security in preparation of Liam and Milo’s arrival. They also decided to stop at Liam’s place to determine if there were any additional presents left at his door or in his mailbox. The limousine journeyed to rural western New Jersey, the home of Redbrook House, a residential drug treatment center that offered a two-pronged rehabilitation program. Rick initially spent five weeks in the Redbrook facility in Pennsylvania, where he spent his time in detox while receiving a matrix of interdisciplinary therapies using a holistic approach to the treatment of his addiction and hepatitis. After five-week treatment, Rick then transferred to a second, transitional facility tucked away in Upper Freehold Township. This part of Rick’s rehabilitation was designed for those patients who faced severe physical disability and whose condition shortened their life span as a consequence of their drug habit. Sam studied many brochures since placing Rick in his first drug rehab stint at Betty Ford. Since then, he’d been through this cycle too many times. Redbrook appealed to Sam because the atmosphere was both private and luxurious, but not designed with celebrity residents in mind. The program, though unusual in its approach, successfully treated patients with a long history of recidivism. Sam needed this treatment to take because Rick would soon run out of the physical stamina needed to survive an ongoing drug addiction. Although Sam hadn’t told Milo, Rick experienced over the last year an AIDS scare from a dirty needle, two incidents of hospitalization due to “accidental” overdoses, and a case of hepatitis C. The hepatitis C sent Sam to Milo and Liam, and led eventually to Redbrook. He’d previously felt that his friends were responsible for Rick’s physical and emotional state. He’d been so very wrong.

Liam and Milo were victims, and Rick part of the problem. That his friends stood ready and willing to help, despite what Rick did, stunned him. He’d forgotten in the intervening years how the four men bonded back in the beginning. How they regarded each other as brothers of the heart, which held a far deeper obligation than mere blood. Sam was glad that he turned to them in his fear for Rick, because it brought back his early realization that these two men became his friends forever, no matter what occurred in the past six years. Sam determined never to let them down again. Now, with no one else around but the three of them, it became time for him to divulge how bad Rick’s condition had become. Milo and Liam sat across from him, sprawled on the bench seat. Milo couldn’t seem to let go of Liam. They touched each other constantly. While they walked, Milo held Liam’s hand, and in the plane Liam and Milo shared a divan. Milo’s arm never left Liam’s waist. Here in the limousine, Liam sat between Milo’s legs, leaning back against his chest. Milo’s arms snaked around Liam, pulling him close. They exchanged whispers and kisses. Milo’s open displays of affection for Liam floored Sam. Milo’s phobia about sissy-like behavior had continued even after he admitted he loved Liam and fucked him exclusively. Sam thought that would change when Milo’s old man died. Milo got worse instead of better, and Sam felt that Milo’s paranoia in part led to the debacle. Now that Sam knew Bart and his brother fed Milo’s paranoia, Sam had no idea how he could ever make it up to Milo. “Hey, you two,” Sam said. “I hate to interrupt the party, but I need to tell you guys a few things before you see Rick.” “Sure, Sam. Shoot,” Milo answered. “This is hard for me. Very, very hard.” Sam swallowed. “You don’t have to tell us anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Liam said. “Or if you just want to talk to Milo, I understand. I’ll get the driver to stop, and I’ll run in for some soda, so you guys have a chance to—” “Please stay. Well, like you said, Milo, no more lies for any of us. Rick’s been diagnosed with hepatitis C. He’s doing as well as can be expected. He’s ineligible to take the antiviral drugs that could have bought him more time because he was still using. Now there is considerable liver damage. We’re talking months, not years. He wanted to be on stage one more time so he can go with some dignity.” “Fuck.” The word came out simultaneously from both Liam and Milo. “Does he know he’s terminal?” Liam asked softly. “Yes, he knows. He doesn’t think you could forgive him. He doesn’t know about the tour or my machinations to shame you guys into helping me. You are already aware of how horrible I feel now that I know the truth. Rick won’t be expecting your generosity of spirit. I think he’s going to be a bit overwhelmed.” “Don’t worry.” Milo moved across to his bench seat and gave him a bear hug. “We’ll be there for both of you, no matter what.” “I hope Bart rots in hell for this,” Liam said through clenched teeth. “He is probably responsible for my dad’s death, Mom’s fear, Milo and I splitting up—anything rotten that happened to any of us, Bart stood

behind it.” “We all carry our share of remorse here,” Sam said. “Our only recourse is to do the best we can for the rest of the time we have, both with Rick and with each other. I don’t remember who said it, but living well is still the best revenge. We’re approaching the gate.” Sam stiffened his spine and put on a smile. Liam and Milo did their best to do the same.

****

Redbrook looked like any other of the many large farmhouses in the township. Although the outbuildings looked newer, they didn’t seem out of place in their surroundings. Horses grazed in the meadow on the early March grass. They had been turned out from the barns at the end of the field. Men in heavy winter clothing chopped wood. Liam looked up and saw at least six chimneys on top of the three-story home. Six chimneys must eat lots of wood , he mused. As they came down the long drive, other men exercised horses in a second field that sported a training oval. Liam heard the cacophony of barks as they pulled up to the house and rightly assumed that they kept dogs as well as horses. Their party came up the steps, and the director of the facility greeted them. As he spoke to Sam and Milo, Liam looked around the huge reception area. At least three cats draped themselves around the room as if they owned the joint. Sam had told them that Redbrook’s matrix of therapy included using companion animals to give the residents a sense of responsibility. Sam would be taking an animal home with him, along with Rick. That wouldn’t go over too well in Sam’s New York apartment. The idea of the Rumson house in early March held no appeal to Liam, and he thought of the bright healing sun and fresh mountain air of Milo’s New Mexican retreat. In a matter of days, it became home. He stepped up next to Milo to hear the rest of what the director said. Rick’s prognosis remained poor. The concert tour would be abbreviated, they knew that for certain. Liam decided he would speak to Sam. They also didn’t need confrontation on this tour. He wanted to play at most three or four cities, and they should to be known as gay-friendly. Liam didn’t want this tour to be sullied for any of them. He pulled Milo aside and grabbed Sam before they could follow the director to see Rick. “I propose a change in plan. The jet is still available, right?” “Yes,” answered Sam, albeit with caution. “Let’s take Rick back to the mountains. The sunshine and fresh air would have to be better for him than Jersey’s damp and dank March weather. J.B. has already set up an excellent security system there, and Joe can get Rick’s story. I think with our permission, Joe could get a book deal. It doesn’t have to be a tell-all to sell books. In our case, the truth will do. It would be of some consolation to gay teens and serve as a caution to kids tempted to do drugs. Even as a love story, it would sell. True love wins in the end, that much advance publicity might keep Bart away from us.” “What do you think, Sam?” Milo asked. “Are you up for your third bi-coastal trip in five days?”

“As long as we’re not flying commercial, smart ass. I’m up for anything,” Sam replied. “Then call the guys. We’ll pick them up in Rumson and stop at Liam’s so he can get some clothes. You do have more clothes, don’t you, baby?” Milo teased. Liam smiled back at Milo. “Honey, I never liked shopping like you did. I loved clothes, just hated the hassle of the stores. I haven’t bought anything in a store since we split. I bought my jeans online and T-shirts in airports when I found one I liked while waiting for a plane. Any clothes I have are in my duffel. What’s left never got unpacked since it arrived from the Rumson house. I couldn’t face it.” “Shit, Liam, now he’ll want to go to the mall. Security will be a nightmare,” grumbled Sam. “No,” answered Milo. “We won’t go shopping until we get home. Baby’s going to get some cowboy gear.” Liam’s mouth dropped open and he sputtered in protest. “Pipe down, Liam,” Sam said. “You’re going to wear what he wants you to wear anyway, because if it’s important to him it is to you, so just go with the program. Besides, I see Rick coming down the stairs. Don’t look too shocked.” Liam looked up. The man coming down the stairs seemed to walk in slow motion. His swollen belly hung over his belt, and his skin had a yellowish tinge. When he moved closer, Liam noticed his skin looked dark piss-yellow, dry, flaky, red and irritated from constant scratching. Behind Rick followed a lively, gorgeously groomed Irish setter pup. Sam walked up to his brother and embraced him. Milo and Liam followed, each hugging Rick in turn. Rick shrank away at the sight of them. “I never expected to see you guys here,” Rick said. “After all I did to you, I figured you’d sooner shit on me than come to see me.” Liam answered for both Milo and himself. “Hush. We’ve come to take you home. Milo has this neat new house with a complete suite for each of us. It will be like old times.” Liam bent down next to the pup with the huge paws and caressed her shiny red coat. “Rick, you need to be reminded of your manners. You haven’t introduced us to this lovely lady.” Rick almost managed a smile. “This is my baby, Kathleen. She’s a pure bred Irish setter. Part of the program here at Redbrook House is to give recovering addicts responsibility for something other than themselves. When Sam found out that all the dogs were labs, spaniels, or golden retrievers, he went out and bought me an Irish setter. He knew I always wanted one.” Rick slowly knelt on one knee and hugged his canine beauty. “Jeez, Rick, if you wanted a dog, why didn’t you get yourself one?” Liam asked. “Because I couldn’t take adequate care of myself as an addict, and I would have badly neglected an animal. It would have been cruelty. I’ve had enough of that in my life already.” Milo, unable to ignore Rick’s self-criticism, stepped in. “Rick, we all made mistakes, big ones. And we all paid the price for our arrogance and foolishness. All that has to be put behind us now. We are

brothers, brothers of the heart, just as we pledged almost twenty years ago. It’s time for us to pull together and take care of each other and punish the person responsible for attempting to tear us apart. We’re going home to New Mexico. You, Sam, Liam and I and two others you’ll meet later.” “Are you and Liam sure you want me along?” “We’re sure,” answered Liam. “Bart took apart all of our psyches and knew just what buttons to push. J.B. has a report. Bart had it in for Liam all along. His mom was Frank’s girlfriend before Frank met Lily.” “Oh my God, Liam, even drugged I suspected there was a reason why he wanted so much information about you and Milo.” Rick hugged Liam and sobbed uncontrollably. Milo guided him over to one of the seating areas inhabited by the cats. He kissed Rick gently on the forehead and said, “Mi casaissu casa .” “He said,” Liam added, “My house is your house.” “Milo, I know that you probably feel like you have to have me as a guest for Sam’s sake. You don’t. Sam has no idea of the full extent of the unhappiness I caused the two of you. If he did, he wouldn’t ask you to put me up.”

****

Milo spotted a small conversational grouping of furniture off in the corner of the big room. There were four chairs and a few end tables. “Would you two mind getting us some drinks? I want to speak to Rick alone for a minute.” With the other men off to their assigned task, Milo sat Rick in a chair opposite his. Rick began to speak, but Milo held up his hand. “Not another word. Not until you let me havemy say. You can try to hog the blame for what happened to Shattered Glass and our friendship, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t take all the credit or the blame. I’ll give you the short version. One, I chose to believe Bart instead of Liam.” Milo used his fingers to tick off his points. “Two, I didn’t listen to Liam when he told me Bart dealt drugs. Three, if I hadn’t been hiding so far in the closet that I couldn’t tell if it snowed or rained, Liam would not have been so needy. And those are just a few of the things I did. Bart Hedge wasn’t who or what he said. Yet none of us so-called responsible adults did more than a cursory check on his background and credentials, thus putting Liam in terrible danger. There is more than enough blame to go around this table multiple times. We need to heal, together. Can you do that?” “I can do that.” Rick smiled, and a heavy burden seemed to lift from his shoulders. “I’m long overdue for some forgiveness. May Kathleen and Mort come along?” “I’ve been introduced to the lovely Kathleen, but who is Mort?” He pointed to a nurse bringing a cat carrier down the stairs. Inside lay a solid grey alley cat with green

eyes. “I adopted him. He keeps Kathy company.” “The more the merrier. I know Liam will lobby for kittens soon anyway.” “About the kittens—” “I don’t want to know, and please don’t tell Liam. He’s just started to smile again. We all have our burdens to carry. Let that one be yours.”

Chapter Twenty-One

“He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”

—Windows to Forever, Shattered Glass (reunion album)

****

Sam and Liam came back with coffee and some juice for Rick. “Time’s wasting,” Milo announced. “We have to get a move on.” “Milo,” Liam said, his voice laced with exasperation, “you asked for drinks.” “We’ll drink them on the road to Rumson.” Liam went to the kitchen to get lids for the cups while Sam gathered the rest of Rick’s things. The limousine driver piled everything into the car. Kathleen jumped up on the seat between Rick and Sam, and Mort got out of his carrier and landed on Liam’s lap. Within fifteen minutes, they were on the road to the Rumson house. “How far out in the wilderness is your new house, Milo?” Rick asked. “It’s not really in the wilderness at all. We are in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains, within fifteen minutes of three major Albuquerque hospitals and numerous doctors of all specialties. Sam told us about your condition. We wouldn’t bring you to our home if we had no medical care readily available. Albuquerque is a small city, but it has better medical facilities than Long Branch or Red Bank. Plus, the hospitals have affiliations with some of the best teaching medical centers in the country. We will make sure you get every kind of help you need.” “Milo, Sam, Liam—I’m going to be blunt here. I have a type of hepatitis C that is difficult to treat.

Because up until twelve short weeks ago, I severely abused alcohol and every drug I could get my hands on. My liver is losing its function, and I’m dying. My only real hope would be a transplant. Rick patted his brother’s knee. “Don’t start, Sam. I’m not fighting anyone for anything. I’ll not stand in the way of a child who never had a chance at life, or a father with responsibilities. Now, if knowing that, you still wish me to go with you,” Rick said, tears trickling down his face, “I’ll be forever in your debt.” Liam slipped across the aisle separating the two bench seats. “There are no debts between brothers. I still owe you for saving my life.” Liam gave Rick a light kiss on the forehead and tucked him in next to Sam. “Whenever you need us, we’ll always be there.” The rest of the ride proceeded in silence. The shrill ring tone of Sam’s cell pelted its song into the air. “Notice it isn’t one of our hits on that damn phone,” said Liam. Milo, Sam and Rick chuckled. They decided not to stop at Liam’s house. Since had never unpacked anything, his clothes would be hopelessly out of style and his instruments could be packed and sent later. The jeans and T-shirts he carried and wore would do. It was better than looking like an Elvis impersonator. Of course, Liam took exception to the huge slur on his taste by mentioning his name and Elvis’ rhinestone-clad hide in the same sentence, and the general teasing and horsing around continued until Sam finally got a cell signal and attempted to reach whomever made the last call as they turned into the long driveway, pulling up to the front door. It was Menendez. “Why won’t Joe answer his phone? He knew we were coming,” Liam remarked. “Oh fuck, shit, piss, and corruption. Sam, give me that phone.” Milo pushed a few buttons and found a terse text message. Hedge at Rumson, has J.B. Call cops. He pushed the phone into Sam’s hand. “Sam call 911. Bart’s at the house. He has J.B. I’m going in.” Sam immediately dialed 911 and had a quick conversation. “I won’t let you go in there alone,” Liam said. “No matter what you may think of my man skills.” Milo and Liam climbed out of the limo. Liam told the limo driver to take off down the drive to await the police and paramedics. They didn’t need more potential victims. Liam whispered to Milo, “Use the key. If you knock, he’ll think something is wrong. I’ll shout for J.B.” Milo made a lot of noise with his supposed fumbling with the key and the lock. “Damn it, Liam, it’s been a long time since I’ve used this door. I don’t remember the trick to it.” “Give it to me. I do.” Milo went in first to check the lay of the land before Liam entered the house as the police pulled into the drive. “Baby, you don’t get it. I’m used to New Mexican weather. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here,” Milo said, keeping up the pretense. “Yeah, got it,” Liam said. “Go on in and get warm while I try to extract the key. J.B. must have made cocoa or coffee.”

Liam watched as Milo ventured into the foyer. After a minute he followed, a bit hesitant at first, but when nothing happened, he picked up his step. Suddenly, someone struck from behind with a heavy blunt object. The excruciating pain almost floored him, however he found the situation more terrifying than the pain. Liam’s eyes clouded over and his head throbbed, but he could see two men grappling on the floor. One of them looked like Bart. Though out of shape, Bart outweighed Milo. Milo was stronger but didn’t have Bart’s reach. Liam tried to crawl to the great room wondering if he could find J.B. He grabbed Bart’s gun from the tiled floor. Five minutes had passed. Milo and Bart still struggled, and neither looked like he would surrender soon. Liam had to put a stop to the fight before something happened to his lover. Still dizzy, he couldn’t stand, so he crawled to the kitchen. There on one of the big butcher blocks, he found J.B., naked and tied to the table. Liam was in shock. “He didn’t—” “No,” J.B. retorted, “he didn’t. He’s been saving that particular treat for you and Milo.” Liam managed to get upright and grabbed knife to cut J.B. loose. “Fuck, I left Milo alone with him. They were fighting and I went to find you. The sooner we get everyone together, the better. Where is Joe?” “I believe he hid in the basement,” J.B. answered. “You go find Joe, and I’ll help Milo. The cops should be here soon.” “I heard them coming.” “Here, take this,” Liam shoved the gun into J.B.’s free hand. “Maybe you should keep it for protection until the cops arrive.” J.B. whispered. “I don’t know how to use it, so I’m safer without it,” Liam answered. J.B. pulled on his jeans and headed for the entry. Liam went to the basement door. He heard the cops at the front. Spying a carving knife on the counter, Liam slid it carefully off the counter and crept to the basement door. He hated the basement. In all the time they’d lived in the house, Liam had never entered the basement. Milo used to tease him about it, but Liam remained adamant. He’d been accidentally locked in a basement as a small child and spent hours alone in the dark before Lily and Frank found him. Even so, now was not the time to give in to his fears. In Milo’s words, he had to man up. Liam twisted the door handle and reached for the light. It didn’t work, so he grabbed the flashlight kept by the stairs and started down. The house was old and had been renovated many times, but not one renovation had ever touched the basement. The stairs creaked and the air felt damp and musty. Liam kept the flashlight on and quickly searched for Joe. “Joe, are you down here?” Liam whispered. “Is that you, Liam?” Joe asked. His voice sounded weak.

“Yeah, Milo’s upstairs fighting with Bart. J.B. is on his way to help him. The cops are here.” Liam heard the click of a flashlight. “Yes, they are here, but they are busy looking for us upstairs. Shame it is such a big house.” A man held the light under his chin. Bart’s voice sounded frighteningly calm. “And you are wrong as usual, Liam. Milo is fighting my cousin Barry, former Irish Extreme Fighting Champ. The cops will be too busy trying to tame him to get down here right away. It only takes a few seconds to cut your throat, baby.” Liam bolted for the steps. Bart grabbed him from behind, using his forearm to maintain a choke hold. Bart dropped the flashlight in the struggle and Liam was able to get a better look at Joe. He was naked and bloody. Liam didn’t need to ask the question he’d asked J.B. He just drew in a deep breath and shuddered. If we ever make it out of here, I’m going to kill the bastard personally. Bart dragged Liam away from the steps. Liam surreptitiously felt for the knife he’d stuffed under his belt. It hadn’t slipped and remained hidden by his shirt. Liam took a deep breath and tried to sound reasonable. “Bart, would you please tell me what I did to you to make you want to hurt my friends and me so badly?” “You didn’t. Our daddy did. He left my mother for Lily. He lived with Mom and me. Mom planned on marriage, and I would have had a real daddy, just like everyone else,” Bart answered in a sing-song cadence. “Then Lily came along. I didn’t do anything right away, because Mom looked so much prettier than Lily. But Mommy got really really bad after she heard Lily was pregnant. Mommy said the baby would get everything that should have been mine.” “You know, brother,” Liam choked out conversationally, “the police are upstairs. It might be a good time for you to beat feet.” Bart paid no attention. The arm across Liam’s throat neither loosened nor tightened. The man’s actions seemed eerily robotic. Joe looked to be in bad shape and until the cops showed Liam had to stave off disaster. Bart continued his sicko sing-song saga in his ear. “By that time, I became desperate. Mommy drank and did drugs. She had me dealing, but she used so much I owed them money instead of making money. I had no one to turn to. I wrote to Daddy again, and this time I threatened Lily and baby brother, if he didn’t come home and help. I got a visit from the cops for my trouble and got caught with the shit in the house. When I got home from Jamesburg Correctional, Mommy was dead.” Bart let out a sick laugh. “No one disses Bart Henderson and gets away with it. Not even Daddy. It took a while, but I knew where you lived. I hung out at the garage where Lily got her car fixed. They began to give me small jobs. By the end of three months, I earned a job as a regular employee, and Lily came in to have her oil changed. The problem came when Frank drove the car the next day, not Lily.” The room was deadly quiet as Liam listened to Bart’s twisted story. He didn’t dare interrupt. The longer Bart kept talking, the closer the cops got to finding the entrance to the basement.

“I stole a SUV from a North Jersey lot. I watched the Honda skid and I drove that sucker right into the driver’s side like a four thousand pound bullet. I jammed the gas and hit it and I had the pleasure of watching Witchy Lily go off the road and up in flames.” “You didn’t get Lily, Bart. It was Dad,” Liam stated in a calm voice. “Lily escaped and put poor Daddy in the car. I found out the next day. They came to get me, but they couldn’t prove a thing. But Lily knew I did it.” Bart’s sing song rhythm ended the story with his voice hitting an eerie high note. “With the car burned down to scrap metal and all the employment paperwork burned to the ground along with Sully’s garage, murder couldn’t be proven. Fire is so satisfyingly thorough. Things got pretty rough for me though. The cops said I was their chief suspect, and they kept watching me, waiting for me to slip up. I knew that sooner or later they’d find a way to extract more evidence, so it was time for me to move on. “Lily knew that I would get her, especially since she deliberately put Daddy in that car. I wouldn’t have killed you, brother. Daddy could have brought you home with him and I could have been the one fucking your tight little six-year-old ass instead of Milo.” “You fucking bastard!” Liam shouted as he made a grab for the knife. He managed to startle Bart, who had expected no resistance. Liam took the knife and stabbed Bart in the left side. Unfortunately, the wound was neither deep nor debilitating. Bart grabbed for the knife, but it flew free and Bart punched Liam in the face. Liam’s screams brought footsteps to the basement door. Bart grabbed and held the now-limp Liam by the throat as if nothing had happened and continued telling his tale. Liam moaned. Bart shook him. “Now, baby bro, I’m telling this whole story just for your benefit because you asked me nice. The least you can do is stay awake for it.” Liam opened his eyes and attempted speech. He couldn’t get a sound out of his swollen mouth. “Yep. I laid low for a while, then changed my name and got back into shape to give off a more youthful appearance. I didn’t want Lily to recognize me, so I shaved my beard and lost about twenty pounds. Instead of looking like I was twenty-two, I looked about sixteen. By that time you were twelve. It would have been pretty easy for a guy of sixteen to befriend a twelve-year-old kid. Isn’t that what your faggot friend Milo did?” Liam again attempted to struggle against Bart’s hold, but Bart pulled his arm tighter, choking Liam. “I only fucked up when I forgot about Walt Cheever. He called the studio, looking for Milo, and said he would be attending your eighteenth birthday celebration. I got lucky and answered the phone when he called. I told him that Milo would be available after the concert. I knew what he wanted, he planned to tell Milo about me. I couldn’t let him. It was Sam’s last night drumming. I told Milo I’d to be late so I had time to kill Cheever at the railroad station and make it back in time for the party. Milo never asked where I’d been. I got lucky that night, Old Man Cheever had my picture and file in his briefcase. I took the money, the file and the picture, but I left the wallet and the briefcase for the cops with no prints.” Bart giggled, sending shivers down Liam’s spine. “I wore latex gloves, just like I will for you as Milo watches you die. I’m going to rape you bloody, just like I did six years ago in the club to which Rick so kindly escorted you. Then I’ll torture Milo with the fact that you are dead. He’ll be begging me for death by then. He doesn’t do well without you.”

Liam said, “You knew everything because you had Rick do your spying for you.” “You fucker!” Milo screamed from the top of the stairs. Bart casually dumped Liam to the floor, drew a gun from his waistband, cocked the trigger, and took aim at Milo. Liam couldn’t help himself. He started to vomit where he lay. He heard the cops yell, “Drop your gun.” Milo started down the stairs with the cops right behind him. Bart crossed the room and pointed the gun between Milo’s eyes. “Go ahead, you fucking son of a bitch, bastard,” Milo said, enunciating each word. “What do you mean by that, you fucking queer?” Bart screamed. “Exactly what I said,” answered Milo, sounding strangely calm even with a gun pointed to his head. “Your mother was a bitch, so that makes you the son of a bitch. She never married your father. The technical term for a child whose father didn’t sign the birth certificate is a bastard. That makes you a son of a bitch, bastard. I threw the fucking in because your only interest is fucking with other people’s heads.” Milo casually picked at the dirt under his nails. “If you’re going to kill me, let me wash my hands first. Unlike you, I have an aversion to appearing disheveled in public. You stink.” Bart became more and more enraged. The gun shook in his hand, but his finger never left the trigger. “Don’t you care, faggot, that Liam is going to watch your head being blown off your shoulders?” “I care. But I’m sure you have something worse planned for him,” Milo answered. The cops inched closer. “Yeah,” Liam piped up, “What did you do to Joe? Why is he naked and bleeding?” “Because he didn’t stay out of my business,” Bart snarled. “He nosed around and found out who I was, and told you and most likely the cops. But it isn’t him or Mr. Mouth here that I really want to hurt. It’s you, Liam. You are responsible for taking away everything in my life that held any meaning.” “Bart, you’re nuts. What did I ever really do to you, except try to avoid your stench?” “Your mom stole my daddy. Milo should have been mine, too. I knew then I needed to permanently separate you. I moved your clothes out with a few of my buddies who owned a moving van. Those two cats were wailing, so I cut their throats. When he came home, any trace of you disappeared.” Hearing about the cats, Liam clenched his fists. But Bart seemed driven to finish his story. “You know all the rest. I suppose Rick spilled his guts. You and he didn’t know that I gave him an infected needle that night after the bar for you. The stupid bastard took the dope himself and earned his hepatitis C for not doing what he was told.” “So you forced Rick to hurt us to get his drugs. What did all this buy you, Bart?” Milo asked. “It didn’t

get your father back. You had fame and fortune with Shattered Glass, but you blew that off when you destroyed the band. What was more important than fame and fortune?” “Revenge,” Bart answered flatly. When Bart took his eyes off him to answer Milo, he spotted the cops starting to move in. Liam dove at Bart to get him away from Milo. The sound of a gunshot pierced the air.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“No Hero Tonight”

I don’t need conquering hero Coming at me to make my day All I need is my own sweet lover Holding me closer in every way My sweet lover, hold me close Help me touch the sky In your arms my dreams are real Flying so hard and high Helping me touch the sky Bringing my dreams alive Riding me hard tonight Holding me till the light Holding me through the night Making my dreams shine bright Nothing was ever so right As being in your arms tonight

—Windows to Forever, Shattered Glass (reunion album)

****

Suddenly, the basement filled with cops. Milo looked around frantically.Liam? Where was Liam? In a panic Milo began to shout, “You have to find Liam, he’s been shot. Stop, fucking around, where is he, he’shurt !” Milo wrenched a flashlight from the hand of one of the state cops and pointed it in the general direction of where he’d last seen Liam. He spotted him. Liam lay crumpled in the corner, bleeding profusely from a wound in his shoulder. Milo reacted like a wild man. He tore off his shirt and pressed it against the wound in Liam’s shoulder while screaming for a medic. The paramedics rushed in the door. After a quick examination, they loaded Liam onto the stretcher. Milo didn’t notice he was crying, didn’t care that he was bruised and bleeding, he never let go of his baby’s hand. “I love you Liam, don’t leave me now, please Liam, I can’t make it without you.” Milo alternated between shouts and whispers, pleas and demands, promises and threats until Liam squeezed his hand and whispered Milo’s name. They put Joe on a second stretcher behind them, accompanied by J.B. With the ambulance full, the medics wouldn’t let Milo and J.B. ride with the patients. As the ambulance took off, Milo saw Bart in the front yard, surrounded by uniformed officers. Milo didn’t care. He plowed right through them and jumped the bastard and began to beat him. All the frustration, anger, and fear of the past six years came pouring out with each punch. When he added those years to the fact that his baby was hurt and bleeding, Milo couldn’t control his frenzy. It took four cops to pull him off Bart, and they were only able to do so because Sam kept calling his name. “Cut the crap, asshole. Liam needs you at the hospital, not in the local lockup. The scum will be locked away until he dies of old age for the premeditated murder of Liam father. Fucking stop now, Milo. Liam needs you!” At the second mention of Liam’s name, the red fog of anger began to clear from Milo’s brain and he stopped punching. As if in dreamtime, he watched Sam expertly deal with the police who, after seeing the condition of the hostages, were inclined to turn a blind eye to Milo’s transgressions. Milo kicked the bastard once more, just because he could, as Sam herded the party over to the limousine.

****

The men rode in the limo and followed the ambulances to the hospital. Rick looked at Sam and made a gesture toward the front of the car. “I would say it hasn’t been this fellow’s average day.” Sam laughed out loud at Rick’s weak joke. “I see you’re recovering your sense of humor.” “We’re both going to need one while Liam convalesces. Milo’s going to be all over him to take it easy, and Liam isn’t going to like it one bit,” Rick said. “Conchita’s going to need earplugs,” Sam answered hoping to get a response from Milo. Milo huddled in the corner of the seat, silent, visibly tense and shaken. “I’ll get them to start writing music for the tour. That should keep them busy,” Sam said. “If there is going to be a tour, I won’t be on it,” said Rick “But we wanted to do it for you!” Sam cried. “I know, Sam, and I love you guys for it. But I’d rather spend some quiet time with my brothers, just being together like we used to, hanging around in our garage. That is more appealing than enduring the rigors of the road, which I wouldn’t handle very well anyway. I’ve gotten my priorities straightened out. You, Milo, and Liam are what matter to me, not the band, the money, or the fame. I can’t take any of them with me. But your warmth and caring will get me through this with some dignity and purpose.” “Are you sure that is what you want?” “Yeah, I’m sure.” “Okay then. Let’s tell James to speed it up so we can stop Milo from giving himself an ulcer.” As soon as they reached the ER, Milo tried to reach Liam, but staff refused to let him in. He accosted the two cops standing guard. “My partner is in that cubicle. You have no right to keep me from him. He is my family.” A subdued and grey-faced J.B. tried to talk Milo down. Sam quickly sized up the situation and headed over to speak to the chief security guard.

****

To Liam’s great misfortune, they took the whole party to Monmouth Medical Center, which did not have a lockup ward for dangerous patients. Bart lay handcuffed to a bed in the cubicle two doors away. Liam feared that when Milo noticed, he would go ballistic. Liam was freezing. His body shook. He could not pour himself a glass of water without spilling it all over the floor and gurney. The triage nurse evaluated him when he first arrived, but two heart attack patients and one stroke victim came in on his

heels. His shoulder hurt like hell and still bled sluggishly. The wound seemed jagged but not deep. He needed stitches, even so, if he waited much longer without Milo being able to get to him, he imagined Milo would have a stroke, heart failure, and a mental meltdown. He could hear the commotion in the waiting area and he could easily to pick out Milo’s voice. He shouted louder than anyone else in the place. He had to do something before they arrested his lover for disturbing the peace. “Nurse,” Liam called in a pained voice. “I would appreciate being able to see my partner, Milo Stamis. Milo will be out of control until he actually can see with his own eyes that I am alive, if not well. If you ask one of the attending physicians, I’m sure they would give permission, just to restore order.” The nurse went running out to the corridor and whispered to her supervisor. Through the gap in the curtain, Liam could see the head nurse—who could have modeled for the Iron Maiden—stride with determination over to where the young doctor argued with Milo.

****

The head nurse cornered the young doctor and said, “Dr. Wallace, this is an emergency room. Because this is your first rotation through my department, I have cut you some slack. However, at the moment, you are disturbing my patients and causing one of them great distress. Your job is to treat the patients, not police their visitors. If you feel incapable of doing your job, I will call the attending and see what he has to say.” The head nurse started to walk away, then turned back. “Oh, Dr. Wallace, if you don’t let Mr. Stamis see his partner, every gay doctor and nurse in this hospital—and there are more of us than you know—will be out after your balls. I am making myself clear?” Dr. Wallace stared at his head nurse in shock. Milo took the opportunity to beat feet into Liam’s room. Liam was still laying on the gurney, fully dressed and shivering. “Sam, J.B.,” Milo shouted. Both men made a beeline for the cubicle. “I don’t care if you have to get the head of the hospital, get someone in here to take care of my baby, and while you are at it, get a blanket. He’s cold. Has anyone checked on Joe? J.B., take Rick with you and make sure Joe is all right and that he gets seen right after Liam.” Milo turned his attention to Liam. “As soon as we get you released from this hell hole, we’re going home.” Then Milo started kissing his cheeks, eyes, and forehead. “Baby, if you ever put yourself in harm’s way like that again, I’ll personally kick your ass.” “Milo, he was going to hurt you,” Liam pointed out quite logically. “Liam, hedid hurt you and that almost killed me.” A much older doctor, whose countenance conveyed experience and authority, opened the curtain. “Mr. O’Shea and Mr. Stamis, I’m Doctor Andros, Chief of Staff. I apologize for this series of fuck ups. If you could step away from the bed, Mr. Stamis, I’ll have a look at that wound.”

“Thank God,” mouthed Milo to Liam.” “The bullet is no longer lodged in Mr. O’Shea’s shoulder. I think we’ll find it either in the bed or on the ambulance floor. You are a lucky man, Mr. O’Shea. It hit the bone at an angle and ricocheted away from your chest. That explains why the wound is so ragged.” Dr. Andros stuck his head out of the curtain and said, “Nurse, I need a sterile wound tray, stat.” The doctor removed Liam’s T-shirt and washed the area with an antibacterial soap. He painted it with iodine and applied butterfly sutures without having to resort to a needle. “Will there be a scar?” Liam asked anxiously. “Nothing that can’t be covered on stage by a bit of pancake makeup. By the way, I love the music you guys made together. Is there a possibility we will be seeing any more?” “I was just about to ask when you arrived, doc.” “Please don’t let me stop you, Mr. Stamis. Consider me a fly on the wall.” Milo chuckled. “As I told you, there will be no more stunts of that kind. I don’t manage very well without you. I’ve decided that you’re not leaving my side for the next seventy years.” “Would you say that was a marriage proposal, Dr. Andros?” Liam asked. “Sounded like it might be one, son. But I’d do a little dickering just to make sure.” “Are the guys coming home with us? Rick’s going to need us and so will Sam when Rick passes. Joe is pretty traumatized, and J.B. feels guilty for not being able to stop the bastard.” “Baby, how do you know this shit? I was out in the waiting room with them, and no one said anything to me.” “I just know, Milo. Oh, we should build the guys separate accommodations away from the main house. I’d feel kind of self-conscious chasing you around naked if the guys were lurking round every corner. Conchita is bad enough.” “Baby, are you coming home with me?” Liam winked at the doctor. “Can we have cats and horses? Will Rick be able to bring Kathleen and Mort?” “Don’t patronize me. I’m dead serious. I can’t live without you. I’m taking you home, and we’re going to get married like a nice normal couple. I’ll have Conchita’s relatives come and put up homes for the guys. We own over twenty acres and I have an option on three hundred additional acres. I’ll even see about getting a shrink to come up a couple of times a week. I think Joe is going to need one. And the rest of us have issues that need to be worked out.” “Yes, Milo.” “Yes, what?” Milo came back in impatience.

“Yes to everything. The guys, the animals, the three hundred acres, but most of all, Milo, yes to you. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. When I first laid eyes on you, I thought you were a golden god come down from the mountain, just for me. Time hasn’t altered my opinion, much.” As Dr. Andros quietly closed the curtain, Milo pulled Liam into his arms, taking great care not to disturb his wound. It wasn’t long before the tears came, tears for all they’d lost and would lose in the future, tears for what they’d missed, and lastly, tears for what they would never have.

Epilogue

It was a warm June morning on the Jersey shore. Two figures walked along Interlaken Beach, arm in arm, stopping for an occasional kiss. An Irish Setter ran ahead occasionally stopping to fetch the stick they took turns throwing. They reached an outcrop of rocks and sat down, dangling their feet in the water while the dog waded through the low tide. “Rick would have been proud of the tour, baby. The songs you wrote for him were evocative. If anyone doesn’t know that friendship is as necessary as love for the human psyche, it’s not for your lack of trying to spread the message.” “In the end, when it counted, Rick proved a true friend,” Liam said. “His work with Joe brought Joe back from the brink. The funeral was quiet, but dignified. I’m glad he decided to be buried in New Mexico. He was happy there those last few months. Do you think Sam should be going back to New York?” “Sam needs time to heal. He needs to lose himself in his business for a while. I can’t believe that you actually got J.B. and Joe to join the band.” “J.B. got bored with the security business, and Joe, I think he got tired of telling stories of life’s seamier side,” Liam answered. “So you finally got your sax player.” Milo laughed out loud. “Yeah, but we still need a drummer.” “I don’t think so,” Milo answered. “Sam will be back. He has his priorities straight now.” “What about us? Do we have our priorities straightened out?” “We just got married in Cape Cod, and we’re on our honeymoon in New Jersey, where we built a new beach cottage. How could you ask?” “I guess I’m asking if you still love me after all this time, or am I just a habit?”

“Baby, you’re not a habit, You’re an addiction and have been since the moment we met.” “I’ll race you home,” Liam teased. “I’ll race you to bed,” Milo countered. Milo carried Liam into the bedroom. He undressed Liam slowly, kissing and licking each part he uncovered. Liam was more in a hurry. He pushed the T-shirt over Milo’s shoulders, followed swiftly by his belt and jeans. Liam placed his mouth exactly over his silk boxers. He carefully pulled down the boxers, with Milo’s help. He crawled to his knees and began to work his way up Milo’s legs with his mouth, kisses and soft caresses. When he finally reached the apex of his thighs he started licking the underside of Milo’s balls while moving his hands from their gentle caresses to a firm hold on Milo’s ass. He turned his lover and began to lick and bite Milo’s perineum. Soon his fingers began to roll Milo’s balls. Lost in his lovemaking, he didn’t hear Milo’s groans of pleasure. “Take me, Liam. I want to feel you so deep inside me that I can taste your balls.” They’d both been tested, so there was no need for protection. Liam grabbed the lube from the side table. Using his mouth, his thumbs and his fingers to open the golden ass that held sexual ecstasy, he pushed in slowly. “Faster, harder! I love you so much, Liam, do not ever let me go!” They lay together in the aftermath. “Lord, Milo, I thought what we had before was wonderful. Hon, you are still hard.” “Yeah, that's for you. Baby, you surpassed my highest expectations the night we first made love.” He began to stoke Liam’s back, his touch turning sensual. He kissed his mouth and the nape of his neck. He kissed down the still-hairless chest and nipped and sucked Liam’s beautiful nipples. He moved further down and rolled Liam on his back. “I can always cum just watching your face.” Milo grabbed the lube from the side of the bed and lubed his huge cock well. Then he reached for more lube and began to ready Liam to take him. As he pushed inside he rubbed the hair on his chest over Liam’s. Liam roared with pleasure. “You can’t cum yet,” Milo teased. “Milo!” Milo reached under the pillow. He slipped something on Liam’s finger, a brilliant gold ring with a square cut diamond flanked by two heart shaped rubies. Milo started to pound into him. Liam didn’t even have a chance to look. He came with an explosion that made Liam cum too without Milo ever laying a hand on him. They lolled in bed for about an hour until time for their walk before dinner. As they walked down the beach in silence, arms around each other, obviously in love, two teenage boys stopped to look.

“Isn’t that Milo and Liam of Shattered Glass? Yeah, it is. God help me, I want to be that much in love when I marry. They fought for their love, just as someday, we will have to fight for ours, Murphy.” “Tag, you’re it,” yelled one of the boys as they ran down the beach. The two celebrities watched from the rocks. Milo said, “I hope it’s easier for them.” Liam kissed him full on the mouth. “It will be, my darling, because of your bravery. I love you so.” Milo answered, “And I love you so much more.”

THE END

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About the Author

AC Katt was born in the Greenwich Village Section of New York City; the only child of older parents. Summers were spent eating ice cream in Washington Square Park; playing in the fountain and listening to the bongo drums and folk guitars until the family bought a house in New Jersey when she was ten. After the move, AC found boxes and boxes of novels in the garage and that was it, she became a bibliophile, and so she has remained. She now lives in New Mexico with her husband and a superior cat, who rules the roost. She started to write when her husband slashed her book budget, and she had to make up her own stories.

Website: http://ackatt.com

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