Assignment -Part 13:

 Family Ties

Justin opened his eyes and smiled when he felt Brian’s hand slide down his stomach and cup his uncovered cock. 

“Morning,” the blond offered as he rolled on his back, giving Brian easier access.  He immediately stopped, wincing at the pain caused by his ribs.

“You ok?” Brian immediately asked, alarm showing on his face.

Justin smiled again, touched by his lover’s concern for his well-being.  It took Justin a while to convince Brian that it was ok for them to have sex again, although the blond was more than grateful that his lover took it easy and slow every time they made love, making sure Justin wasn’t hurting or uncomfortable.

But being babied could get old pretty quickly.  Being made to feel like an invalid wore off its charms as well.  Although, at times, it was easier to focus on the physical injuries that Justin endured instead of the emotional ones that he knew concerned Brian as well.  His lover would rarely voice his concerns, but Justin knew what bothered Brian. 

To Brian’s credit, he was usually subtle about it, casually asking Justin how his therapy sessions were going, never once mentioning Justin waking up screaming at night from the nightmares.  And if that was possible, Justin found himself falling even more in love with Brian for just being there for him without asking or demanding anything back, without pushing Justin to do anything, especially “talk” about things.  Brian was just there for him, whenever he needed him.

“I’m fine,” Justin replied, holding back the slight annoyance he began to feel.  He didn’t want to think about anything this early in the morning aside from Brian’s mouth on his cock, or better yet, Brian’s cock inside his ass.  He told his boyfriend as much.

Brian seemed to get the point fairly quickly and eagerly proceeded with their morning activities.  He lowered his head down, his kisses creating a wet trail down from the blond’s belly button to his pubes.  A low, quiet moan was his cue to continue. 

Moving down, he traced the inside of Justin’s left thigh with the tip of his tongue.  Satisfied with the effect it had on his lover, he repeated the action on the other thigh.

His plan to continue on with the torture was halted with a pleading “Brian” escaping Justin’s swollen lips.  It seemed his younger lover had even less patience in the mornings than he did at night. 

Smiling, Brian reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a tube of lube and a condom out of the top drawer.  He moved away from Justin to put the condom on. 

Justin didn’t like in the least the distance between their bodies, even if it was very brief.  Reaching out for Brian, he pulled him back down, molding the taller man’s body against his own. 

Brian slammed his mouth against Justin’s, for the moment taking pleasure in assailing it with his tongue.  That, of course, didn’t last long, their need for each other so overpowering, they couldn’t contain in. 

Justin once again felt Brian slip away from him.  The brunet didn’t go far this time, though.  Justin watched with his half-opened eyes as Brian carefully lifted his left leg and slowly slid inside of him, pausing when Justin whimpered to make sure that the blond was not hurting. 

Justin managed an encouraging smile, his eyes fluttering close with the incredible feeling of ecstasy he felt every time Brian was inside him.  Another moan escaped his lips as Brian began to slowly move in and out of him.  While Justin felt almost a surreal need for Brian, wanting him, no, needing him to push harder and deeper, he knew that Brian wouldn’t do it.  Not because the brunet didn’t want or need it just as much.  Justin knew that for some reason Brian got this ridiculous idea in his head where he believed that he was supposed to protect Justin – whether it was in or out of bed and refused to do anything that could potentially hurt the blond.

Not that Justin would really complain at having to make do with slow, gentle, and intimate love making instead.

After they both came, Brian helped Justin up and led them into the shower to clean up.  The one thing that Justin loved about his bathroom and Brian didn’t was that it actually had a bathtub instead of just a shower stall as it was the case in Brian’s loft.  It worked very well, because if they felt like taking a nice long bath, along with a nice bubbly fuck, they stayed over at Justin’s. 

The thing that Brian was complaining about was that it wasn’t as convenient to have a quick fuck while taking a shower in Justin’s bathroom.  Of course, Justin proceeded to disprove that concept to the man, over and over and over again. 

Finally, when the water turned cold, the two men decided it was time to get out.

They didn’t get farther than the bed.

“When are you seeing the doctor?” Brian asked as they lay on top of Justin’s duvet, propped against the sea of pillows.

“Tomorrow,” Justin replied, hating that every conversation they had had was about him seeing a doctor or taking a pain medication or anything else that was in any way connected to his capture and torture.  He just tried to forget about all of it, but other people, and by those he meant Brian and everybody else at the CIA, seemed too fucking set on making him remember it.  “It’s just a routine check up,” he added, hoping that it would prompt the brunet to change the subject.

It did.  Brian rolled on his side, the palm of his left hand immediately going to work on freeing Justin’s cock from the confines of the white cotton towel. 

Unfortunately, for Justin’s cock, just then Brian’s beeper went off. 

Groaning, Brian rolled away from him and picked up the small object from the nightstand.  Looking at the number, he sighed.  “So much for a day off,” he said, offering an apologetic smile to his lover. 

They both quickly got dressed – Brian in his suit and Justin in sweats and a t-shirt - and left the room.

“Do you want to take any food with you?” Justin offered, even though they were already at the front door.

“No,” Brian shook his head, smiling down at him.  “I’ll grab something on the way.”  He opened the door, then turned back to give Justin another kiss.

Turning back, they came face to face with a FedEx guy.

“Justin Taylor?” the man asked.

Brian pointed to Justin.  “That’s him.”  He glanced at Justin one more time before squeezing in between the doorway and the FedEx guy.

Justin watched him walk quickly toward the Jeep, then turned his attention to the stranger still waiting at his door, holding a letter-size envelope.

The man held out an electronic device for Justin.  “Sign here, please.”

Justin did as told and then was handed the envelope.

Closing the door, Justin walked back up the to the second floor.  He quickly opened the envelope, curious as to what it was or who it was from.

Tossing the cardboard cover on the kitchen counter, Justin proceeded to open the smaller, regular size envelope that did not have a return address as well.  With the white envelope ending up on top of the FedEx one, Justin unfolded the piece of paper that he found inside, his breath catching in his throat immediately, realizing who the letter was from.

His father. 

~~~***~~~***~~~

It was four hours later that Justin heard a car pull into the driveway.  Brian had called him a half an hour earlier to tell him that he was coming over.  Since he left the door unlocked, Justin remained on the couch in the living room, waiting for the other man to get inside.

“Hey,” Brian offered as he closed the door behind him and walked down the stairs and into the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Justin asked, getting right down to business.

Brian stopped, waiting for Justin to explain himself.

The blond raised his gaze to Brian’s face.  “About my dad.”

Justin was grateful that Brian didn’t choose to pretend that he didn’t know what he was talking about.  The brunet sighed as he looked away. 

“So, it’s true.”  It was more of a statement rather than a question.  Of course, it was obvious that the clarification wasn’t required.  Yet, Justin felt compelled to ask. 

He watched as Brian pulled his lower lip in between his teeth and gnawed on it nervously before looking over at him.

“How did you find out?” Brian asked.

Justin’s response was to hold out the letter he had read and reread about a hundred times in the last four hours.

Brian took a couple of steps toward the couch and took the piece of paper in his hand, reading it quickly, his frown deepening with every word.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Justin repeated his question.

Brian let out a loud sigh and walked over to the couch, flopping down next to Justin.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react.  After everything that’s happened, I…”  He looked away. 

“You should have told me,” Justin insisted. 

Brian returned his gaze to his lover.

“Why did you meet with him?” the blond inquired.

“He said he knew how to find you.  I didn’t have a choice,” Brian responded.

“Yes, you did.”  They both knew what that choice entailed – Justin dying. 

Brian held Justin’s gaze for a few seconds.  “I didn’t have a choice,” he said again.

Justin knew that he should have felt good about his lover willing to go as far as working with a known terrorist to ensure his rescue, but somehow he just didn’t feel as excited about it.

“Are you gonna do it? Meet with him?” Brian asked when Justin didn’t say anything.

Now it was the younger man’s turn to look away.  “How can I?”

“He IS your father,” Brian pointed out – a fact that Justin would have loved to forget.

“He’s a wanted terrorist,” Justin replied.  “I’m supposed to report this.”

Brian nodded.  “You are.”

“Did you?” Justin asked, glancing up at him.

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth and pressed them together.  “No,” he finally answered.

~~~***~~~***~~~

Later that day, after Brian left, Justin still couldn’t decide whether he should meet with his father or not.  So, he got in his car and drove to the only place where he could find the answer to that question – his mother’s house.

He realized that his visit would raise more questions than answers – what happened to his face being the biggest one of them all.  Justin still couldn’t believe he had managed to keep his mother away for the past three weeks while he was healing.  And while the bruises were gone now, the cuts on his right cheek were still fairly visible.  Even so, his mother was the only person he knew who could give him the answers regarding his father. 

Turning off the ignition in his car, Justin climbed out of the Porsche, not surprised that his mother was already at the door waiting for him.  She smiled widely as he walked toward her, the smile fading quickly when she got a good look at the cuts on his face.

“What happened?” she exclaimed, taking his face in her hands and studying the wounds.

“It’s nothing, mom,” he tried, pulling away from her.

She, of course, didn’t believe him.  “Did Daphne’s dog scratch you again?” 

Justin winced, realizing that his mother knew he had lied before.  “No,” he offered.  “I was in an accident.”  He knew he had to tread waters carefully here.

“Accident?  When did it happen?  How could you not tell me?”

“Mom, it’s nothing.  Really.  I swear.  It was just a car accident.  No big deal.” 

“No big deal?  You could have been killed and nobody even felt the need to contact me.”

Justin looked away guiltily.  She was right, of course.  But there was nothing he could do.

“How could you not tell me?” she asked again.

“I just didn’t want you to worry, that’s all.”

She stared at him for a moment, then let out a loud sigh that Justin took as a sign that she didn’t really believe him but decided to leave it at that for the moment, and went inside the house, with Justin following closely behind.

There were no words said as they made their way into the kitchen.  Jennifer went straight to rummaging around the stove while Justin tried to decide how to start the conversation.  Instead, he quietly took a seat at the table and watched his mother.

“Hey, Jus,” he heard as his sister walked down the stairs.  He took in the clothes she was wearing, in disbelief at how grown-up she looked.

“Got a date?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” Molly shook her head.  “Just going out with my friends.”  She finally took a look at him.  “What happened to your face?”

“Nothing.”

She moved closer, staring at him.  “It looks like somebody used your face as a punching bag.”

Justin had to bite his tongue in order not to tell her to mind her own business.  The last thing he needed was for his sister to bring up the subject yet again.  “I was in an accident, ok?” he replied, annoyed. 

“No,” she shook her head.  “Looks like you were boxing or something.”

Justin inhaled sharply as he glared at his little sister.  “How’s Frank?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

The young woman shrugged.  “We broke up.”

“What happened?  He got tired of your talking?”  He couldn’t believe how easy it was to fall back into ‘big brother – little sister’ routine they had perfected over the years. 

“No,” she stuck her tongue out at him.  “He was just getting too serious.  I’m too young to settle down.”

Justin could only shake his head at that, biting back a snicker.

Finally, they heard a honking outside.

“Oooh, that’s Sarah,” Molly exclaimed.  Grabbing an apple from the fruit plate, Molly rushed out of the house.

Justin watched her retreat in slight amusement.  Even though Molly was a grown up now, to him she was still the same seven-year old who aggravated him during his teen years.

When he heard the front door close, Justin raised his gaze to meet his mothers, realizing now that all this time she was watching him.

“You’re working for him, aren’t you?”

The question was surprising and confusing at the same time.  “Who?”

“Your father.”

Justin’s eyes widened, in surprise and shock that his mother would even think that.  “What?  Of course, not.”

“No, it all makes sense.  The extensive absences, the cuts and bruises.  The lying.”

He wasn’t sure how she got to this conclusion, but he knew that no matter how hard the truth would be for her, whatever she had imagined in her head was a million times worse.

Justin stood up and moved closer to his mother.  “Mom, I swear to you, I don’t work for dad.”

“Then what?  How did you get those cuts?” she asked, her expression pleading with him.  “I deserve the truth, Justin.  After everything that’s happened, I deserve to know the truth.”

The blond looked away, unable to meet her eyes.  She, of course, was right about that too, as most mothers tended to be.  But the problem was, Justin had no idea how she would react to the truth she so wanted to know.  It appeared, though, that the decision had been taken out of his hands.  He couldn’t continue to lie to her any longer.

Raising his gaze to hers, he nodded, resigned to the fact that he had to tell her.  Turning away, he walked back over to the kitchen table and sat down, his hands clasped nervously together.  “I work for the CIA.”  Surprisingly enough, it was easier to say than he had imagined.  Letting out a loud sigh, Justin looked up.

The look of complete shock on his mother’s face was not at all surprising.

“What?” she managed to utter.

“I work for the CIA,” he repeated.  “I’m an operations officer.”

“Like…like a spy?”

In any other time, Justin probably would have laughed at how preposterous it sounded.  But the truth was – that exactly what he was. 

“Yes,” he said.

He saw his mother’s face turn white. 

“Mom?” he tried, unsure of what else to say.

“I need to sit down.”  She walked over to the table and sunk down on one of the chairs, her breathing heavy.  “I…” She turned to him.  “CIA?”

Justin nodded. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

The blond sighed.  “I just…you had enough to deal with.  I didn’t want you to worry.”

“But it’s my job to worry, Justin.  That’s what mothers do.  They worry.”

“I know.  I guess I…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

“It’s because of him, isn’t it?  Your father.”

Justin’s reply was to look away. 

“Justin, he is not worth it.  Risking your life like that.  He doesn’t deserve…”

“He saved my life.”  Justin was surprised by that revelation as much as his mother was.

“What?”

Justin took a deep breath.  “I was captured.”  He hesitated when he heard his mother gasp.  But knowing that he had to say it, Justin continued.  “He helped the CIA find me.  He saved my life.”

He knew what this admission was doing to his mother, yet knew no other way to make it easier or better for her.  This was the reason why he had kept this all a secret for years from her and the rest of his family.  It was just too hard for them to handle and completely unfair to put them through the ordeal. 

“He wants to see me,” Justin added, looking up at Jennifer. 

“He’s here?”

Justin shrugged, honestly not having an answer to that question.  “I guess.  I don’t know.  He sent me a letter.”

“Are you going to meet him?”

Justin blew out a puff of air.  Another question that he had no answer for.  “I don’t know.”

“He wants you to join him,” Jennifer said.

“I know.”

“That’s why I left him.  Because I knew that one day he’d want you to do what he’s doing.”

As surprising as this revelation was, Justin nodded.  “I know.”

Just then his phone rang.  Taking it out of the pocket of his jacket, he answered it.

“Where are you?” It was Brian.

“My mom’s.  What’s going on?”

“Can you come in?” came the question.

“Uhm…”  He glanced over at his mother.  Justin hated leaving her alone after the conversation they just had, but he knew that Brian wouldn’t have called him if it wasn’t something important, especially since officially Justin was still on leave.  “Yeah.  Give me twenty minutes.”

Hanging up, Justin turned to his mother.  “I’m sorry.  I have to go.”

“It’s them, isn’t it?  The CIA?”

Justin could only nod in response.  Closing the gap between them, he leaned down and placed a kiss on the woman’s cheek.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“Be careful, Justin, please.”

Justin managed a smile.  “I will.  I promise.”  Kissing his mother once again, Justin left.

~~~***~~~***~~~

Twenty minutes later Justin was already walking out of the elevator, being met by Brian.

“What’s going on?” he asked his lover as the two walked quickly toward the conference room.

“I’m not entirely sure, but it’s regarding Kissilyev.  I thought you’d want to sit in on the briefing.”

Justin nodded as they walked through the door of the large room and found their seats.

When the last of the agents involved were seated, Melanie stood up. 

“Thank you all for coming in.  The reason we called this briefing is because of a new Intel that we had just received.  We are still trying to confirm this information and...”

“What is the new intel?” Brian asked, voicing everybody else’s concerns.

Melanie picked up a remote control and directed it at the screen.  A picture of Sergey Kissilyev flashed on the large screen before them.

“As most of you know, Sergey Kissilyev had been on the CIA’s most wanted list for years now.  And while agent Taylor was successful in bringing down his brother, Kissilyev had been elusive.  Until now.”

Surprised, Justin found himself sitting up straight, his full attention focused on the brown-haired woman before him. 

“We received unconfirmed information that Sergey Kissilyev had been killed,” Melanie finally said.

Justin’s eyes widened in shock.  The man that they’d been searching for for years.  The man that had him tortured for days.  He had now been killed. 

“How?” he asked, already knowing the answer before Melanie even opened her mouth to respond.

“We’re not sure.  We’re still trying to confirm the authenticity of the Intel and the source.”

Justin, however, did not need any confirmation.  One didn’t have to be a genius to figure out who was able to get to Kissilyev when the CIA couldn’t – and who would want him dead. 

The moment the debriefing was over, Justin walked out of the room and headed down to the garage area, his decision already made.  Taking out his phone, he dialed the number.

“Tell him I want to meet him,” he said when a voice answered on the other end of the line.

~~~***~~~***~~

Justin was instructed to drive to a local park and walk toward the middle.  There he was met by four large men that checked him for weapons and tracking devices, then lead him toward their car.  In it, they blindfolded him so that he could not reveal Craig Taylor’s location to the CIA or any of the man’s enemies, of which he had many.

He had to remind himself to remain calm, trying to control the anxiety and panic that began to overtake him as soon as his father’s men surrounded him in the park.  The panic only increased, since he had no idea where he was being taken.  He took deep breaths.  There was nothing to be anxious about.  He was not being kidnapped, Justin reminded himself.  This was his choice to meet his father.  These were just the precautions men in Craig Taylor’s position had to take. 

Justin believed they drove for about an hour before the car finally came to a stop and he was dragged out of it.  Removing the blindfold, Justin was escorted, or rather pushed, inside a large house, coming to a stop only when they reached what looked like an office or a library.

There he was left standing in the middle of the room, with three remaining guards standing against the walls while the fourth one went to let Craig Taylor know that he had arrived, Justin assumed.

Justin looked around the room, taking in every little detail – the bookshelves, the titles of the books, the letter opener on the oak desk in the corner of the room, the papers scattered across it, the fact that there were two exits – one through the door he had used and the other leading out into what looked like a winter garden. 

Justin’s attention was directed at the first entrance when he heard footsteps, hating the fact that he was actually nervous.  He hadn’t seen his father in over eight years and up until today Justin believed he wanted nothing to do with the man.  That still was the case, up to a point.  But learning that his father had assisted Brian in finding him, in saving him along with what he had learned earlier that evening about the fate of another terrorist who had captured him, Justin couldn’t fight the urge to meet with his father, if only to hear what the man had to say after all these years.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as Craig Taylor walked into the room.  He looked very much like he did the last time Justin saw him, only with gray hair and more wrinkles.  But the man was his father, of that Justin had no doubts.  And while on the inside he felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest, Justin did everything in his power not to let the other man know that he was in any way fazed by this meeting.

Craig paused in the doorway, returning Justin’s stare for a moment.  He then turned his attention to the guards.

“Leave us,” he ordered.

One of them was about to object, but Craig repeated his order more forcefully.

Justin swallowed hard, his mouth dry as a desert, as he watched his father slowly cross the room after closing the door behind the last guard to leave.

“You’re not concerned with the fact that I could have been sent here to kill you?” Justin finally asked.

A tiny smile crossed Craig’s features.  “That would be awfully biblical of us, don’t you think?”

He circled around Justin, looking him over.

“I can’t believe how much you’ve grown up,” Craig finally commented.

“Eight years can do that to a person,” Justin shot back.

His father smiled once again. 

“You look good,” Craig said.

“Look, you mind if we skip the pleasantries?” Justin snapped.

“I haven’t seen my son in eight years, I would like to know how he’s been doing,” Craig replied.

Justin sneered.  “Your son?”  He shook his head, trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking coming here.  “Something tells me you know how I’m doing.  You know everything.  What I do, where I do it, and who I’m doing it with.  So why don’t we skip the bullshit and get right to the point?”

“And what is the point, Justin?”

“You wanted to see me.  I’m here.  So tell me what it is that you want so that I can say no and get on with my life.”

“You never were this angry when you were a kid.”

“Well, finding out that your father is a murderer tends to change one’s perspective on life,” Justin answered.

The comment seemed to have the intended effect and Craig visibly winced at the words.

“I’m not a murderer, Justin,” he said.

“Don’t,” Justin shook his head.  “Don’t try to justify what you do to me.  I know all about it.  Every single thing, every person you killed.  Including Kissilyev.”

Craig was startled by this revelation.  “Kissilyev?”

“You were the only one with the resources and the knowledge to have him killed.”

“And a reason,” the other man added.

Justin knew what he was trying to tell him.  He did it for him.  He killed Kissilyev because of what he had done to Justin.  But it wasn’t enough.

“Is that what this is all about?  You’re expecting a ‘thank you’ from me?” he asked.  “Well, don’t hold your breath.  It doesn’t even begin to make up for everything that you’ve done over the years.  For what you’ve put us through.”

“Us?” Craig wondered.

“Mom, and me, and Molly.  Did you ever even stop to think about US?”

“Justin,” Craig moved closer.  “Everything I’ve ever done was for you.”

“Bullshit,” Justin shouted.  “You did it all for yourself.  For your fucking ego and need for power and money.  Even this – helping Brian find me – you did it for yourself, to have me owe you something.  Well, it won’t work.  I don’t feel obligated to you, nor will I ever be.  You don’t exist for me anymore.  My father died eight years ago.”

“If that’s true, then why did you join the CIA?  Surely, it wasn’t for all the wonderful benefits and perks on the job.”

“I joined because unlike you I wanted to do something good with my life,” Justin responded.

“That’s very touching,” Craig responded sarcastically.  “Did Kinney teach you that?”

Justin clenched his fists as he glared at his father.  “You leave him out of it,” he ground out.

“You think he’s so much better than me?  You don’t know him.  He’s not what he seems,” Craig warned.

Justin chuckled bitterly.  “No one is.”  With that said, he turned to leave.

“Justin,” his father called.

Turning around, Justin stared at the man that he once admired and loved.  “Stay away from us.  I mean it.  Just leave us alone.  Mom and Molly and I – we don’t need you anymore.  So, stop watching us and checking up on us.  We’re better off without you.”

With that, Justin turned around and went back the same way he came, stopping in front of the car and letting the guards blindfold him before taking him back to the park where they picked him up.

Once there, Justin made his way toward his car – the same one his father had given him on his eighteenth birthday.  Sitting in it, Justin remembered all the times he had spent with his father when he was a kid – finally letting himself mourn the loss of that man.

Go to Part 14

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