Date: Tue, 19 Jun 2001 10:37:07 -0400 From: Michael Raburn Subject: Daniel's Love Chapter 2 THIS WORK IS FULLY PROTECTED BY U.S. COPYRIGHT LAWS. NO PORTION OF THIS WORK MAY BE COPIED OR REDISTRIBUTED BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT THE EXPRESS CONSENT OF ITS AUTHOR. THIS WORK DEALS WITH A FICTITIONAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN TWO MEN. IF READING ABOUT HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS OR SEXUAL CONTACT BETWEEN TWO MEN IS EITHER ILLEGAL IN YOUR AREA OR OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READY ANY FURTHER. ANY SIMILARITIES TO ANY PERSON LIVING OR DEAD ARE PURELY COINCIDENTAL. THIS WORK IS ENTIRELY FICTITIONAL. Guys I really appreciate all the great responses you've sent me after that the original posting of DANIEL'S LOVE. Because of these letters and the multitude of requests I have written the sequel. I broke the first posting up into two shorter chapters so they would be more manageable. This version of the first two chapters has been reedited but nothing substantial has been changed from the original posting, just a few grammatical errors. Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart. DANIEL'S LOVE Michael A. Raburn Chapter 2 "This evening a suspected bomb destroyed the studio and home of Mr. Paul Jamison, a well-known Atlanta artist. A security guard that had been posted at the home was killed in the blast. The police are not sure at this hour who is responsible for the bombing, but they say they are following several leads. Mr. Jamison who is represented by River Park Galleries is said to have received some threatening letters over the past six months. Attempts to locate Mr. Jamison for comment have failed. No one seems to know where he is at this time. We will have more details as they become available." "The doctor says he's in shock. A few days rest and he'll feel better. But, Nina, I'm so worried about him. The painting was one thing, but somebody died. How will Paul ever get over this? You know how he feels about people. And the house. He told he how long he had worked to get it just like he wanted it. I can't imagine..." "Daniel! Where are you?" "Hush, baby, shhh, I'm coming. I'm right here." I felt his strong arms surround me. I laid my head on his chest, again drifting into unconsciousness. Sometime later I began to fight my way clear of the fog that had surrounded my mind. I opened my eyes to see Daniel watching me, tears streaming from his crystal blue eyes. "Oh Daniel, I love you so much. I'm so sorry for dragging you into all this..." "Paul, hush, you didn't drag me into anything. I'm right where I want to be. Okay, so it's probably not the best way to start a relationship, but I'm not sorry I met you. I just want to get through this and find the bastard that is harassing you. Then we can get on with our lives together. I love you, Paul." Daniel was stroking my back, holding me near. "Let's get up and see what's going on." "But, baby, if we hadn't been on that flight, we would have been home. We would be..." I could not finish the sentence. The thought that Daniel and I could have been killed was more than I wanted to comprehend. We would have been at home having dinner probably about that time. Someone was killed though. We padded off to the bathroom, relieved ourselves and washed our faces. Nina's grim face met us as we left the bedroom. She tried to smile but was having trouble. Her emotions were so easily read. "Oh Paul, I'm so sorry." She grabbed me into a hug. "Agent Lewis, Barry, anything new that I should know about?" "No, nothing else. We're pretty much locked down here for tonight. The Atlanta PD is working on what little evidence they have. ATF and the FBI have joined the team, but so far they're not saying much. Michael's family has been notified." Barry answered quietly. "Mr. Avery called me earlier. Robb and Mikey forwarded his call when he reached them at the gallery." Nina explained. "I assured him that the triptych was safe and that we would be ready for delivery in a few days. He offered any kind of help that we thought we might need from him." "Nina, I don't care about the paintings. Someone died at my house. Who could be doing this?" I ranted. "Paul, the paintings are your life. Of course you care about them. Avery cares about them." "That's reassuring. At least he hasn't been scared off yet. I hope he doesn't regret his decision to have me do the work." "Paul, he is one hundred percent behind you. He has loved all the preliminaries that we've sent him. Don't worry about him." "What are we going to do now? I've got to talk to the insurance people about the studio. Where are we going to live, baby?" I turned to Daniel. "Doesn't matter to me. Wherever you are, I'll be there." "How about dinner?" asked Alan Parker. Dinner was a somber affair. Nina and the security team were talking at the other side of the table. Daniel was quietly eating, trying to not be too obvious that he was watching me. I was still reeling from everything that had happened but with Daniel's encouragement managed to eat something. Nothing tasted right; everything seemed bland, tasteless. I wanted to get to the restorers and see what was being done to my canvas. My customers were so important; without them I would have never gotten to where I am. I needed to make sure that WaterLilies was being taken care of properly. I also wanted to apologize to the client for all the trouble. "Paul, great to see you. Sorry about the circumstances." Roland met us at the door of the run-down warehouse that the restorers called home. The building had been converted into lofts for all types of artists and craftsmen. "Come on in, I want to introduce you to everybody." "Roland, good to see you. This is Dan Scott, my umm, lover?" "Paul, you don't sound quite sure there." He laughed at me. "Dan, great to meet you. Paul taking good care of you?" he asked as he shook Daniel's hand. "Actually, right now he's taking care of me." I interjected. "Have you heard about the studio?" Barry and Alan had positioned themselves near the doors to the workspace. "Yes, we heard the news earlier. Seems CNN has done a little bit of publicity for us, you know. I'm sorry that it happened, but you're now a household name, worldwide." "Well, I hadn't thought of it like that." I chuckled grimly. "Mrs. Garland, this is Paul Jamison." Roland introduced the blonde that was standing behind him. "Paul, this is Mrs. Cornelia Garland. She bought WaterLilies." "Thank you Mrs. Garland. Let me apologize for all the trouble." I took the proffered hand. She had a strong grip for such a diminutive lady. Probably about sixty years old, she appeared to be the quintessential genteel society matron, even down to the bleached blonde hair and the Chanel suit. "Nonsense, my dear boy. It's not your fault what that damned idiot did. Come see what these geniuses have done with our painting." Well, maybe she was not so genteel after all. The restorers had done an exceptional job. Only with a spotlight shining at a certain angle could you even tell that the damage had occurred; two very thin lines crossed the canvas diagonally. The paint had been so closely matched that no one would ever notice that it was not intact. The great sense of relief I felt must have showed on my face as everyone around me began to smile. "Thank you gentlemen." I shook hands with the two restorers. "It's wonderful." "Mr. Jamison, we've completed the documentation of the repair. If you'd just sign off on these authentication papers, we'll be done here." Several documents were presented for my signature. "Mrs. Garland, I'm going to send you the preliminaries for this work. It's the least I can do for your understanding." "Paul, you don't have to do that. But, I'd love to see them, to see the creative process as it developed." She seemed genuinely pleased by my gesture. "This calls for a celebration. Roland we need some champagne." We spent the next couple of hours discussing my paintings, art and the events of the last day. Mrs. Garland offered me another commission when I had the time to do some sketches for it. Her husband's company was completing their new headquarters in Houston and she was in charge of the acquisition of art for the buildings. She had already purchased some pieces but wanted me to do several custom pieces for the grand entrance space and for the boardrooms. She promised to have the plans and elevations to me via courier by morning. Barry and Alan escorted us to our armored car when our little party wound down. "Nina, I've got to find some place where I can paint." I mentioned on the way back to the hotel. "At least until the house is rebuilt." "Yeah, leave it to you to turn crap into a million dollar commission." She laughed. "A million?" Daniel asked, amazed. "I guess, that's about right. Isn't it Nina?" "Actually, a bit more like two." She shrugged. "Oh, my god! How much was the Avery commission?" he asked. "Seven hundred thousand." Nina answered. Daniel stared at me in disbelief. I was not sure what he had thought my work was worth, but he definitely seemed surprised. "No, baby, you don't have to go back to that deli, ever again." I hugged him to me. "I guess your job now is holding my hand and taking care of me and working on that novel you want to write." I whispered in his ear. "I know just how to take care of you." He grinned at me wickedly. "Hmm..." I could hardly wait to make love with this incredible man. He had become my world in just three short days. All my doubts about our age difference, my looks, my insecurities seemed to evaporate at that moment. All I could see was Daniel. We returned to our suite, complete with security guard ensconced in the other bedroom. Daniel and I both seemed to be nervous about he next step in our relationship. We stood for a long while, side-by-side, staring out at the lights of Dallas before I pulled Daniel to me. "I love you so much Daniel." I kissed him passionately, running my hands through his hair. "Oh, Daddy Bear, I love you too. I never knew I could feel this way about anybody." His fingers were busy unbuttoning my shirt, his hands teasing in my chest hair. His fingers found my hardened nipples as I reached to pull his tee shirt over his head. I ran my hands up his lightly haired chest and gently caressed his pectoral muscles, pausing briefly to tease his nipples. Daniel leaned over and began to lick my left nipple, lightly nipping it with his teeth. "Ummpf" I felt my knees buckling from the pleasure he was giving me. My nipples had always been one of my most sensitive parts. The electric jolt I felt as his lightly bit into me caused my dick to start to throb. "Like that, did you?" he asked, switching to my right side. Again, I took his nips with my fingers, pulling and teasing him. "Yeah, pull your Daddy's tits, baby." We both were painfully excited by our play. "Baby, chew on those fuckers." Daniel's teeth bit down on my nipple as his tongue began to flick it lightly. I ran my hands down his stomach and began to unbuckle his trousers. I eased my hands around his body and down into his slacks, under the boxer shorts. The twin mounds of his hunky ass perfectly fit in my large hands. I could hardly wait to explore that luscious butt of his. "Yeah, Daddy, play with that butt. I know you've been looking at it for a couple of days now, wondering how it felt. I can't wait to have you make love to me." He cooed. "Baby, Daddy's going to love you like no one ever has, like no one ever will." I eased his pants down and off his legs. His fingers were busy undoing my slacks. I almost came when I felt his fingers teasing my erection. Kicking my pants off, I bent down to pick up my boy. His arms wrapped around my neck, his legs around my waist. I climbed onto the bed with him. We ground our bodies together, rubbing our staining dicks together. We were both leaking massive amounts of precum that helped lubricate our frottage. Untangling our arms and legs I slid down his body, kissing and nibbling my way down. I treated his nipples, one at a time, to a long tongue bath, followed by some light chewing. Daniel's moans were music to my ears. I knew I was doing the right things to make him moan and thrash around the bed like he was doing. I pulled back and looked at my lover's beautiful cock. It was straining, glistening with its coating of slimy precum. At about seven, hard, thick inches, it was crowned by an incredibly beautiful mushroom shaped head. I only paused a moment before I engulfed the entire cock deep in my throat. Daniel's moans increased in volume and energy. I moved into a rhythm of up and down strokes, teasing his head on each pass up with my tongue. "Turn around Paul. I want to suck you too." He moaned. Obliging his request I aligned our bodies on the mattress. Immediately he deep throated my thicker nine-inch beauty and started to suck me. The fingers of my right hand paused to play with his low hanging nuts, pulling and stretching them in their hair-covered sack. My left hand reached around him to tease his furred buns. His mouth moved more frantically over my cock when my fingers grazed into his furrow. Yes, he had a real sensitive ass, everything I had ever dreamed about in a lover. I pulled his legs back towards his chest so I could get my mouth into his steaming trench. His natural musky smell greeted my nostrils when I pried those hot cheeks apart. His pink pucker twitched and seemed to wink at me right before I buried my tongue up into his body. If he had not had my dick down his throat, Daniel probably would have screamed. I felt his body buck under me each time I stuck my tongue deeper into him. This man's ass was created for me rim. My tongue would plunge into him then pull back and circle around his loosening anus. Each time I drove my tongue back in I managed to increase the amount of saliva I was dripping into his asshole. I wanted to fuck my boy with only my spit as lubricant. Pulling back from my dick, he pleaded, "Daddy, please fuck me. I need you inside me. Now please." I turned us back around and pulled his legs over my shoulders. "Daniel, this is going to be so good. Let me know if I hurt you. Okay?" "Now Paul, now." He begged. The angry looking head of my hard cock found its place at his pucker. I had done a thorough enough job on his hole that it seemed to reach back and grab at my dick. I eased through his sphincter with no trouble. The look in his eyes told me that he was experiencing only pleasure. I proceeded with the next couple of inches gliding easily into him. Daniel reached back and grabbed at my butt cheeks, trying to pull me totally into him. At last I felt my balls push into his buns as I bottomed out. I leaned back on my knees and eased Daniel's legs off my shoulders and around my waist. Grabbing his hands I pulled him up to sit astride me. This position drove my hard cock even further into him. He wrapped his arms around my neck and began to passionately rape my mouth with his tongue. Together we established a rhythm of him bouncing on my lap, followed by me forcefully lunging up into him. I wrapped my arms around him to hold him upright when he removed his arms from my neck. Again his fingers found my hard nipples. He started to really dig into my nips when I began to lose the rhythm that we had established. I was so close to cumming even before he started the nipple work. "Baby Bear, I'm gonna cum. Daddy's gonna flood your ass with his cum." I moaned into his mouth. "Come one Daddy Bear, I'm right with you. Fuck it out of me, Daddy." He moaned loudly. "Here it comes baby!" I pushed up into him hard and started to squirt my hot load into his ass. Daniel's cock strained and then exploded huge torrents of hot sperm on my chest and belly as he came hard. "Oh God!" Daniel screamed as his orgasm overtook him, his arms trying to pull us even closer, into one singular writhing mass. We had just begun to regain our breathing from the hottest orgasm that either of us had ever had when the door to the bedroom burst open and Barry appeared, gun drawn. "Is everybody alright? What's the matter?" he asked. The room was flooded with light when he reached to flip the switch. I am sure that what he saw was not what he expected. Our naked, sweaty bodies were glued together with Daniel's cum, our arms firmly wrapped around each other, my cock still buried high in my lover's butt. "Oops, sorry." He stammered. "I thought one of you was in trouble." He was clearly embarrassed by the scene he saw in front of him. I began to laugh as he quickly shut the door to our room. "Oops, indeed." Daniel laughed hysterically. "Poor man." "His fault, he should have knocked first." I chuckled back. "Come on, let's get in the shower. I don't think we should sleep like this. It might pull out too much hair in the morning when we try to peel ourselves apart." After a quick shower and toweling each other dry we returned and crawled under the covers. Daniel scooted back into the spoon pattern of my body and I wrapped my arm protectively over him. His fingers entwined with mine, pulling me closer. "Paul, I love you so much. Thank you, that was a lovely first time." He cooed, not far from sleep. "I love you too Daniel. I will never forget this night. You are so special to me." I whispered into his ear. "Good night." We emerged from the bedroom the next morning to Nina, Barry and Alan in the living room having coffee. "We would have waited on you, but we didn't know when or if you'd even get out of bed this morning." Nina laughed. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." I feigned innocence. "Not from what Barry told us. Seems you taught Agent Lewis a little more than he wanted to know last night." Nina could hardly contain her laughter. "Well, he should have knocked." Daniel joined in the fun. "We would have let him watch." He kidded. "Ah, thank you, no. I saw way more than I wanted to. Sorry about barging in like that, guys. Instinct, I guess. When Daniel screamed I really thought someone was hurt, not getting the fuck of a lifetime." He blushed as he explained. "S'all right. No harm done, I guess." I grinned at Barry. "Still friends?" "Sure, no problem." "Oh, Paul, the courier just dropped off the drawings and the outline for the pieces that Cornelia is interested in. The note says she would like to see preliminary sketches for the pieces as soon as possible. Looks like you're going to be busy for a while." Taking the package from her I settled back into the sofa. Daniel was serving us both coffee. "Somebody, call down and order breakfast. I want to read through this before we head back to the airport. What time is the flight?" Spreading the papers around the coffee table, I did not hear the answer. I was engrossed by the elevations and my thoughts of what would look right in each area. I knew already that the events of the past few days would come into play in the themes of the paintings. Taking notes in the margins of the drawings I calculated that there would be six large groupings on the scale of the Avery piece and approximately twelve medium sized works and about sixteen smaller pieces. Mrs. Garland's notes indicated that she wanted the same thematic concepts to guide all the works. Luckily no mention was made of colors. Thank goodness that nobody wanted a painting to match their sofa. I had heard enough of that kind of talk when I was just starting to sell a few pieces. A quick calculation of the price for each piece and the added expenses of preliminaries, crating and transportation revealed that we had been seriously underestimating the value of this commission. I must have been staring into space when Daniel nudged me. "Baby, breakfast is here. Are you going to stare at those drawings all day?" "Ah, ah, where's Nina?" I looked around the suite. "Right there beside you, Paul. What's the matter?" Daniel looked at me cautiously. "Nina, we were wrong. This is not for the number of paintings we had discussed. The commission is not for two million." I trailed off. "Oh well. Paul we'll work up to those kinds of numbers as we go. Remember at the beginning I told you we had to set the benchmark then move up from there. We've done that." She tried to soothe me. "Nina, you don't understand. This is way more that we expected. With what she has asked for we're looking at..." I trailed off as I nudged the figures towards her, then I leaned back expectantly. "Oh! My! God!" she screamed. Daniel hugged me hard. "Oh Paul, I'm so happy for you." I grabbed him to me and kissed him passionately for several minutes. Leaning back from him I noticed Alan grinning at us. Barry looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Paul, the FBI wants to talk to you. I'm having them meet us at the Magestic. It's easier for us to secure the suites there than anywhere else in the area." Barry explained as we were leaving Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport. "I don't know anything. Barry, what can I tell them?" "You can only tell them what you know. You're not a suspect. But, you may know more than you think you do." He explained. "Okay, whatever. I won't feel safe again until they arrest whoever it is that's doing this." We arrived at the hotel and were again escorted through the back entrance and up the freight elevators. Four black-suited agents of the federal government met us when we exited the elevators. We were each assigned an agent and dispatched to separate rooms for the interviews. The questions were pretty routine. I was amazed at how much information they were able to gather about my personal life. They seemed to know everything about me, both positive and negative. We spent a lot of time talking about my relationship with Tony and the threats that he had made during our breakup. They asked about each of my friends, by name, about how Daniel and I had met, about my parents and grandparents even about the students that had been in my classes. Two hours later my agent seemed to have all the answers he needed from me. He did tell me that they had questioned Tony already and that he had an alibi for both when the painting in Dallas was slashed and when the house was bombed. Other than that, the agent was not very forthcoming with information. He said he would be in touch, then left. I wandered back out to the living room. Nina was there with Barry and Alan, but Daniel had not been released yet. What was taking them so long, I wondered. I asked Barry about the agent that had been killed and his family as well as his funeral arrangements. He was the father of two young children, both under five years old. They would have to grow up with only memories of their father. There was really nothing that I could do for them, but I had to try. I pulled out my planner and started to make phone calls. My attorney was supportive and offered to help me deal with the insurance agent and any media related problems that I might run into. I asked him to have a check cut from my personal account for the agent's family and to have it delivered to me at the hotel. I knew it was not equivalent to having their father, but at least the kids would be able to grow up and not worry about money problems. The insurance guy was equally supportive and told me that since I had been ruled out as a suspect that the check would be ready for the replacement value of the property whenever I was ready for it. I spent about an hour talking to Amy about the house and who we could find to build it back, as it was. She also agreed to help find a place where Daniel and I could live and work until the house was finished. As I hung up with her Daniel returned to the room. He had obviously been crying since his eyes were red-rimmed, his hair disheveled. "Baby, are you okay? What happened in there? Did they hurt you?" I was concerned about Daniel, but also pissed at the agent that had questioned him. "What did you do to him?" I demanded from the FBI agent. "I had to ask him some pretty hard questions. See the bomb was found in the guestroom, under the bed. His clothes and books were in that room before the explosion. We had to clear up that he was not the one who placed the bomb. I'm sorry that it was so rough in there." He attempted to apologize. I pulled Daniel into a bear hug and attempted to calm him down, whispering how much I loved him in his ear. What the agent said had shaken us both pretty badly. Someone had been in my house to set the bomb. No one had been there recently except Daniel and me; at least no one that I was aware of. That meant that someone had broken into the house, but when? Daniel's things? Oh, no. "Daniel, was the picture of your mother..." I could not finish the question. "No, Paul. It and the photo album were in the backpack I took with us." He seemed comforted by the thought that the only thing he had left from his mother was safe. We needed to get out of this hotel and to some place that was less institutional for a while. Nina was planning to go back to her house and take Barry along for protection. I still had an inkling that she had other plans for that man, but that was her business after all. I approached her with my idea. "Nina, since you're going home, can we come over for dinner?" I asked her. "Paul, I'm not sure I'm up to cooking right now." She explained. "No, not what I meant. We could call in for Chinese or something. I just don't want to spend all my time cooped up in this hotel. We need to go by the funeral home and pay our respects to Michael's family and then I was hoping we could have a nice cozy dinner with you and Barry." I hinted. "Sure, we could do that. What time you gonna be there?" Looking down at my wrist, I replied, "Let's see, it's four now. How about seven, seven-thirty?" "Sounds good. We'll be waiting for you. Come on Barry, I've got some house cleaning to do." She pulled him towards the door almost running over the courier from the attorney's office. "Don't go to any trouble for us." Daniel countered. "Alan, would you take us to the funeral home, it's over on Tenth Street." "Sure, let's go." We approached the front of the funeral chapel where Michael's wife and children sat. Flowers were banked around the closed casket at the front. Innumerable people were milling around talking in small groups. When a break opened in the crowd of people surrounding the family, I pulled Daniel along behind me towards them. "Mrs. Spencer, I'm Paul Jamison and this is Daniel Scott. We're so sorry about what happened." She leapt up from her chair and engulfed me in a warm hug, tears streaming down her face then turned and hugged Daniel. "I appreciate you coming to pay your respects, gentlemen. It means so much to me, to us. I know I should be upset because it was your house and this madman was trying to kill you, but I always knew that this could happen, that Mike could die on any assignment he accepted." She was amazingly calm in light of what she had been through. She had obviously been crying but she was holding up very well. She introduced us to her two children, each shaking our hands and thanking us for coming. We chatted for a few minutes before the crowd again thickened. I pressed the envelope into her hand with my best wishes, hugged her again then slipped back into the throng of people with Daniel. We gathered Alan from where he was talking with some of his colleagues and headed out to Nina's. "Baby, what was in the envelope you gave Mrs. Spencer?" Daniel asked. "Half a million." I replied simply. "What?" Allen asked. I did not reply but turned to gaze out the windows as we passed through Nina's neighborhood of upscale homes. I know that if they spent it right, and with his hazard pay the Spencer family would never have to worry about money, that the kids could go to college. It was the only thing that I could do to make their lives better. I felt Daniel's hand take mine. "I really love you Paul. You are so kind and caring. I hope everyone understands that about you." He nuzzled and kissed my neck. "Obviously one person doesn't" I mused. The three of us tromped up to Nina's front door and were greeted by Barry, ever-present gun in hand. "Man, you've really got to chill out some." I joked at Barry. "Sir, just trying to do my job and not let anybody get hurt. Come on in." he stepped back. I lead the way towards Nina's kitchen. She is a wonderful cook, always preparing lots more food than was really necessary for any occasion. Her repertoire of specialties includes traditional southern delicacies, Cajun dishes, lots of oriental dishes and her fabulous fried chicken. Her busy schedule with running the various galleries and pampering her artists often keeps her from the one true love of her life, cooking. All our friends tended to congregate in the kitchen, generally making nuisances of ourselves as she worked preparing the food. Many evenings during the breakup I had curled up on her sofa, my belly full and my wounded spirit tended. "Nina, who's coming? Why are there eight place settings on the table?" I wandered through to the kitchen, noticing she was stirring something on the stove. "Well, there's five of us. Robb and his new girlfriend, Carole are coming. And, Mikey, of course. That's eight, right?" "I didn't mean for you to go to all this trouble. We could call for takeout." I tried to apologize. "Nonsense. We stopped at the store on the way home. No problem at all." She smiled at me. "You know, you're fried chicken always was my favorite. Daniel just wait till you get a taste of this." Daniel was at my elbow, as always. He never seemed to get more than a few steps from me. We had already developed that sense of knowing where the other was at any time. Several times I had turned to speak to him without even checking to see where he was standing; he was always where I expected to find him. The doorbell rang again and Barry trotted off to answer it. I heard the introductions being preformed in the foyer. "Is Barry on your menu for tonight, Nina?" I whispered the question. "Hmm, that's none of your business, Mr.-I'm-In-Love." She jabbed me with her finger, giggling. We looked up to see Barry ushering the others through the door. "Everybody, this is Alan Parker." I introduced our Texas agent. "Alan this is Robb and Carole and this young man is Mikey." I noticed two pair of arched eyebrows when Alan and Mikey were shaking hands, their clutch lasting longer than was typical for an introduction. Nudging Daniel and Nina, I nodded my head in the direction of the men. Looked like we had a mutual attraction thing going on here. "Barry, honey, could you get drinks for everybody? The foods done." Nina asked, placing special emphasis on the "honey". She passed platters heaped with her delicious food to Robb, Carole and myself. "Let's go sit down and eat." "Sure, Nina. Daniel, want to help me?" Barry asked, grinning shyly at our hostess. During the dinner conversation we explained to the Atlanta crew all that had happened during our trip and talked about what had been happening here. Robb, Mikey and Carole had all been questioned either by the police or the FBI, but no one had gotten much information back. We discussed everyone that we could think of that might have been involved; no one seemed to have any motive to want to harm me. I passed along the information about Tony's alibis, opening another discussion of the bastard himself. Several times I noticed Nina and Barry whispering to each other. Alan and Mikey also seemed to be sharing some private moments together. Interesting, interesting how this evening had turned out. When I glanced down at my watch I realized that it was already approaching two o'clock. Explaining how Daniel and I had to go house hunting and shopping for clothes and supplies the next day, I rose to say good night to everybody. We hugged everyone and praised Nina immensely on the fabulous food. I thought we were going to have to use a crowbar to pry Alan away from Mikey. As we were heading out the door, I looked back to see them exchanging phone numbers. Yes, there was definitely something going on there. "So Alan, what did you think of our little crew." I asked as he drove back towards the hotel. "Everybody seems so nice." He answered, smiling. "You and Mikey seem to have quite the little mutual admiration society thing." Daniel laughed. "Oh, man. He's so cute, nice too." Alan murmured. "But, I can't see him socially until this mess is all worked out. It wouldn't be very professional. And, on top of everything I live in Texas" "Alan, he really is a nice guy. There's so much love bottled up in him. From what I know about you two, it could be pretty special." I tried to encourage Alan to not give up on Mikey. "Give him a call, see what happens. The other details you can work out as you need to." "Yes, mother. I'll call him." He laughed back at me. Back at the hotel, Daniel and I undressed each other then snuggled together under the covers. We were both so tired from the hectic day that we barely had time for a few kisses before we were both sound asleep, happy in each other's embrace. When we awoke late the next morning, I explained to Daniel that we had an appointment with Amy, the real estate agent at noon. She would be taking us around to the properties that she thought would meet our needs temporarily. "Paul, it's only nine thirty now. What do you think about a little loving in the shower?" He was pulling me out of the bed and towards the bathroom. "Hmm, sounds good to me." I grabbed him around the waist and pulled him to me. "Thank god we don't have to worry about running out of hot water." Our lovemaking was slow and easy, we were in no hurry. We both explored our lover's bodies with our hands, pretending to be washing each other. After lots of teasing and caressing, we settled into a steady rhythm, a standing version of the position we had used the last time. Daniel had his legs firmly locked around my waist, leaning back against the shower wall. My cock was again buried in his delicious hole. He was grinding his throbbing dick against the hair on my belly, pleasuring both of us. Our mouths were locked together, our breathing quickly becoming ragged. We were so closely synchronized that when his cock began to spray me with his cum his clutching anus brought me over the edge. I eased us down onto the tiled floor so we could catch our breaths. Amy was waiting for us outside her office when we pulled up, Alan and another security agent in tow. The security team felt that since there were two of us to guard that we needed to increase our coverage. We had stopped en route for breakfast and arrived right at noon. "I guess you guys aren't taking any chances." She looked worriedly at Alan when he stepped out of the front passenger seat to open the door for her. "Hop in. Where are we off to?" I stepped out to allow her to sit between Daniel and me. I thought Alan was going to knock me down as he tried to shield me from some unseen enemy. "Paul, you can't just do that. You can't get out of the car in public until we check the area." He seemed genuinely concerned for my well being, not just doing his job. "Sorry, I forgot." I smiled sheepishly at him. "Paul, we don't want you, or Daniel to get hurt. Let us do our jobs. Okay?" After Amy and I were settled into the back seat with Daniel, Alan closed our door and positioned himself back at shotgun. I introduced everyone then turned back to Amy. "Well, Paul, I had picked out several spaces for you to look at. But, with everything that has happened, I think we'll skip the first three. The spaces are livable and have everything we talked about, but they're not very secure." She explained and gave the address of the fourth apartment to the driver. Soon, we arrived at what looked to have been a small warehouse at one time. The building had three floors, lots of windows and double steel garage doors at the street level. Amy handed a remote control to Alan and indicated that he should aim it at the building. One of the doors rolled up into the space, allowing us to drive into the building. Another quick flick of Alan's finger closed the doors. When we had all piled out of the vehicle, Amy began the tour of the building. The ground floor was garage space and a small workshop type space. A freight elevator and stairway were located at the end of the parking area. The only entrance other than the sliding doors was a heavily bolted steel door, secured with an electronic lock. A keycode had to be punched into the controls to activate the locking mechanism. All the windows on that floor were heavily barred. The agents seemed please and wandered off to inspect the property. Daniel, Amy and I took the stairs up to the second floor. This area was mostly open space but had large freestanding lockers on wheels scattered around the floor. This would be the studio and Daniel's writing area if we decided to take the building. There was a small bathroom complete with shower tucked into one corner. The living area of the building was on the third floor. The light-filled loft area had not been built out into rooms as such but had rolling dividers that could be moved around. This would allow any number of configurations in apportioning the space. The partitions had been arranged to create two bedrooms, each with it's own spacious bathroom. There was also a comfortable den area that opened to the modern kitchen and dining areas. The building came fully furnished except for electronic toys. We would have to purchase a new television and stereo system, linens and clothes and our new home would be complete. "Daniel, what do you think?" I asked when we got to the master bedroom area. "Could you be happy here for a while? At least until we finish rebuilding the house." "Paul, it's wonderful. You know me, and where I used to live. It's your call. I'll be happy anywhere you are." He seemed reticent to tell me his feelings about building. I was sure he was concerned about the money. I pulled him into a hug and whispered to him, "Baby, we're together now. You have an equal say in what we do and where we live." "Paul, I don't have anything. I can't make this decision as an equal. It's all yours." He sobbed into my shoulder. "Daniel, I thought you understood. I love you. What is mine is yours. Granted after the bombing, I don't have much, but it's ours not mine. I told you a few days ago that all you had to do was tell me what you wanted, what you needed and I'd find a way to make it happen. What do you need?" I asked, forcing the issue to try to make him truly understand how much I loved him and wanted him in my life. "I want and need you, only you." He clung to me even tighter. "Okay, baby, I'll make this decision and a few more as we go along." I was rubbing the knots out of his shoulders. "You can make more decisions when you're more comfortable. Okay?" Daniel nodded to answer my question then started to lick my neck up to my earlobe. Nibbling it with his teeth he whispered, "I can't wait to christen this bedroom with you." Giggling. "Amy, where are the agents?" I called back towards the kitchen where we had left her. "In here with me. Why?" The agents approved of the building and the security measures that had been installed. So we came to an agreement about the renting the warehouse for six months. Amy figured that the contractors would be done with the house by then, and we could move back to the bungalow I was so fond of. We spent the next hour finalizing all the details that would allow us to move in immediately. Alan and Amy took care of reprogramming the electronic sensors and door locks to our personal codes while Daniel was on my cell phone ordering the entertainment center and a new computer system for our apartment. We called Robb and his movers to pick up Daniel's purchases. "Alan, do you have Mikey's number?" I asked even though I knew the number. "Sure, why?" "Call him. See if he'll meet us at Amy's office. We'll drop her off and take him with us. We've got to hit the mall and do some shopping for clothes." I grinned at Alan. Yes, I was playing matchmaker, but I really liked Alan and I loved Mikey like a brother. They would be good together. Fate had introduced them; I was not going to let it fail. At the mall Daniel and I had picked out a basic selection of clothing and shoes. We had enough for several days before we had to do laundry. We stopped off at the drug store to pick up toiletries and managed to totally embarrass Alan and Mikey when we were discussing the pros and cons of different personal lubricants and condoms. With a wink and a jerk of his head towards the other couple, Daniel placed an extra bottle in the shopping cart. "You never know." he whispered. In the produce aisle of the grocery story Daniel again taunted the boys with a discussion of the merits of one sized cucumber over another. We decided to cook dinner for the gang that night so we loaded down the shopping cart with the fixings for spaghetti, salad and garlic bread. Four hours later we returned, the back of the SUV loaded with necessities. Robb and Carole had already installed the entertainment center and computer in the living room. They both quickly jumped in to help us unload our stash, make up the beds and stock the bathrooms. Nina and Barry arrived a little later and jumped in to help us arrange our new home, or The Fortress as Nina had begun to call the warehouse. Daniel took firm charge over his new kitchen, shooing everyone out when they offered to help. Dinner was uneventful; no one had heard anything from the police. No more notes had arrived at the gallery. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. I began to wonder if we had not gone overboard with all this Maybe it would die down quickly and we could get back to a normal life. Daniel and I had not had much time to just be together without all this mess. We needed to settle into a life that was comfortable and that offered us what we wanted. I was sure our love would continue to grow but how much stress could we handle. About eleven o'clock the party started to wind down. Nina and Barry left first, closely followed by Robb and Carole. We had to figure out the logistics of getting Mikey home and then getting the agents back to the warehouse. "Mikey, why don't you stay here tonight? Alan can run you back to your car in the morning." I hinted. "Agent Graves can sleep here on the sofa and you can bunk in with Alan. I don't think he would mind. Just don't hog the blankets." "Paul, I don't think that's such a good idea." Alan started. "Oh, sure it is. That bed's big enough for all of us. You don't mind do you Mikey?" Daniel added. He seemed to be lost for words. "Okay, then that's a plan." I said. "We're off to bed." I took Daniel's hand and started for our bedroom. "Wait till they turn back the covers in there." snickered Daniel. "What did you do?" "Under the pillows are some condoms and a bottle of that lube we bought." he laughed. Over the next few days Mikey spent as much time as possible at our house. It seems that our little meddling was successful. Alan, although the consummate professional, was never far away from his new lover. Nina and Barry also appeared to have been bitten by the same bug. They were always sitting together, sharing private thoughts and giggles. The arts supply store had been to the Fortress twice with loads of the supplies I needed to work on the sketches for Mr. and Mrs. Garland. I had set up the second floor with a large worktable and new easels. Daniel and I used the rolling locker units to partition off a space for his study. We could see each other while we worked but were not so close that we would not get anything done. Having this man in my life had answered so many of the nagging doubts that I had dealt with for many years. Daniel many times told me that he had never been happier, that he felt complete. We continued to develop our relationship, exploring as much with our minds as our bodies. I was sleeping much better as the nightmares that had haunted me for so long had not resurfaced since that first night sleeping with Daniel on that ratty sofa. The police came by on Wednesday afternoon with some photographs from the mess of my old house. They wanted to see if we knew any of the people standing around watching the firemen fight the blaze. Something about perpetrators liking to watch the aftermath of their actions, seeing it all play out in front of them. Daniel and I scanned the photos and were able to identify several people from the neighborhood and the shops along Monroe Drive. There was one face that seemed familiar to me but I could not place where I knew him from, probably someone that I saw every day and had not met yet. In addition to the Garland commission I was secretly working on a painting for Daniel. I had sneaked the picture of his mother downstairs one day when he was at the library. I feverishly transferred it to a three by five canvas and started the color studies. I knew if he found the picture missing he would be full of questions so I was careful to have it back in place before he returned home. I hid the canvas among several others and would work on it when he was making dinner. I wanted to be finished before his birthday party in August. After several meetings with the police and the security detail we decided that the Avery triptych would have to be shipped to Manhattan under armed guard. Mr. Avery's plane would be in Atlanta to transport the paintings. He had agreed to supply his own people to escort the works on their trip. Daniel and I would travel separately with Alan and Mikey, Barry and Nina. We would be there for the dedication but the hanging would be hired out. Daniel knew I was uneasy about letting anyone else handle the works until they got to their final destination but he convinced me that it was time to let others handle that duty. Nina also weighed in on the issue saying I was beyond that at this point in my career, that I should concentrate on the painting. I had always handled all the details of my work from stretching the canvas to the final placement of the paintings so I was still not used to this celebrity. The media was relentless in their pursuit for an interview. They had been flooding the switchboard at River Park with phone calls and were always hanging around the gallery. Luckily no one had managed to find out where we were living so at least they weren't bothering us there. We finally agreed to one interview at the gallery. Nina handled all the arrangements so all I had to do was show up and answer a few questions. I was flabbergasted when the reporter asked me about the Garland commission. I was not sure who had leaked the information until Mrs. Garland strolled into the gallery. After a quick hug and peck on the cheek she quickly took the spotlight, relieving me. We explained briefly about the slashing of her painting and its restoration. She went on to describe the scale of the work that she and her husband were expecting for their headquarters. The reporter already had a brief interview with Mr. Avery about the triptych and was going to splice that into the final copy. Daniel eased over to hug Mrs. Garland while the reporter and cameraman packed up the equipment. "What are you doing here? This is a wonderful surprise. You've got to come back to the studio with us. I think you're going to love what Paul has done." "Daniel, honey, Roland told me about the interview yesterday. I felt like I needed to be here to help my two boys. You two are so cute together. Let me get my bag and I'll be ready to go." Nonstop Cornelia, at it again. On the way to the warehouse I kept looking back to see if we were being followed. I had noticed the reporter eyeing us when we were talking about Mrs. Garland accompanying us home and I had mentioned my suspicions to Alan. The last thing we needed was the press hounding us there. Our little stalker would only have to watch the news to know where we lived. No way I was going to allow him any more access to our lives than he already had. Alan took a circuitous route to our neighborhood and it appeared that we had not been trailed. Mrs. Garland was completely fascinated by the initial sketches and color studies that I had completed. The images were largely abstract but had some elements that were literal. We further discussed the colorways that would be used to accent the lobby areas and made minor adjustments to several of the hues selected. She found the portrait when she was flipping through some of the medium canvases. "What's this?" she asked quietly. "Daniel, why don't you get us something to drink?" I tried to get him distracted from the canvas Cornelia had discovered. He did not seem to notice my fidgeting and trotted upstairs to the kitchen. "Mrs. Garland." I started. "Cornelia, honey." She corrected. "It's his mother. She died recently and he's been kind of lost without her. I wanted to get it ready for his birthday. It's not finished yet." "Paul, it's wonderful. How much more do you need to do?" "Just a few touches here and there. I'd like to introduce some more saturated color. The photograph was a little faded, so I'm having to guess at the true colors." "He'll be so happy. I would love to be here when he opens this." "Well, consider yourself invited. The party is August fifth. He knows about the party but doesn't know what all it will entail. It'll be quiet, just a few close friends." "Count me in. Can you think of anything he needs? I'd like to get him something special. He's such a special boy, both of you are. I feel like you're the sons that I never had." She pulled me into a quick hug. "I'll think about it and let you know. Are you coming to the Avery dedication?" I really wanted her there. She felt like family and it was important now that we did not have any left that Daniel and I rebuilt a sense of family for ourselves. "You couldn't keep me away, darling. Old grumpy butt won't, but I will." She was referring to her husband, Mr. All Work and No Play. But, she surely enjoyed spending his money and I was not one to complain. "When are ya'll flying up?" "Friday morning, I think. That is if Alan and Barry can get everything arranged. I want to be in the office Saturday when they hang the paintings even though I'm not involved with the work. The dedication is at two o'clock Sunday afternoon. We'll probably fly back Monday or so." She reached for her handbag and extracted a simple white card. "Here's the address to our apartment. Stay there, there's plenty of room. That way you don't have to worry about hotels. I'll call ahead and tell them that you'll be in Friday night. I won't be up until Saturday afternoon. You'll have the place to yourselves. Except for the guards, of course." "Cornelia, you don't need to do this." I tried to explain. "Yes, I do. You're family now. I adopted you, remember? Any news on when they're going to capture that damned maniac and you can get rid of the extra baggage?" "We haven't heard anything yet. Either they don't know who it is or they're not telling us." "Maybe soon." The flight to New York was long, boring and the airplane was completely packed. Granted getting a block of seats for our entourage was not easy. I never had to worry about anybody but myself, now I had at least five other people surrounding me at all times. I know that Daniel at times felt as claustrophobic as I did. When would we be able to just be anonymous again? Would our lives ever settle down to normalcy? Mr. Avery's limousine met us at the airport to transport our group to Cornelia's apartment. It was much easier than trying to squeeze Nina and Barry, Alan and Mikey and Daniel and myself into one cab or having to split up into two. We settled into the five-bedroom flat overlooking Central Park. Mrs. Garland's taste and Mr. Garland's money were plainly evident in the apartment. Even though she had said they spent very little time here, she had spared no expense in decorating to the hilt. Just before we left the next morning for Mr. Avery's building the phone rang. Robb was asking to speak to Barry. Several minutes later he emerged from the study. "Paul, another note arrived at the gallery this morning. Robb called the police before he called me. They think that the newscast must have triggered it. Atlanta PD and the FBI don't want you to go to the dedication. They say it might be too dangerous." "Damn it, Barry. I can't live my life like this. I have obligations, you know?" "Paul, I know. This letter explicitly threatened to kill you and Daniel. Whoever it is knows us too well. How else could they know his name? Someone has already leaked it to the media. They will be swarming around this dedication tomorrow." Barry pleaded with me. "Look, I don't care if you have to put me in Kevlar. I'm going. You keep everybody else here. I don't want them to get hurt." "Bullshit, Paul! You're not going without me. My place is at your side. If you really want to go do this we'll go, together." "Daniel, baby, I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you." I wrapped my arms around him. "Daddy Bear, I won't live if I'm not there for you. Like you said, we can't live our lives in fear." Alan was getting clearly agitated. "Guys, you don't understand what could happen to you. This nut is serious. The notes were one thing, but he blew up your fucking house!" I had never seen him loose his cool before. The phone rang again, Mr. Avery's head of security. He and Alan spoke for several minutes concerning details about the dedication. The guests would have to show their invitation and pass through metal detectors before they could enter. We would indeed be wearing bulletproof vests under our suits, just in case. Everyone felt that we should just hole up in the Garland's apartment and not venture out to the city. We all agreed to forego our planned night out in the city. I would not get to see that the paintings were hung correctly, but we would all be safer this way. We heard keys rattling outside the apartment. Barry and Alan drew their pistols, ready for whatever came through the door. "Oh my god, don't shoot!" Cornelia screamed. "Well, I guess you've heard the latest then? It's all over the radio. Turn on the television somebody." "We know." I answered dejectedly. "I'm so glad you're here." Daniel and I both voiced at the same time. "WCJC News has just learned that another threat has been made in the Paul Jamison case. River Park Gallery received another letter this morning stating that Mr. Jamison and his companion, Daniel Scott, would be killed tomorrow at the dedication ceremony of Mr. Jamison's paintings for the Arthur H. Avery Foundation. Police sources say that they are still not sure who is sending these letters, but they have several leads. They also have not stated a motive for the harassment that Mr. Jamison has received recently. You may remember that one of his paintings..." The newscaster droned on. "We've got to get you out of here and back to Atlanta or somewhere safe. Let's go back to Houston. They won't think about looking for you there." Cornelia pleaded. "No, Cornelia, we're going to the dedication tomorrow. We can't live like this." Daniel stated. "But, you can't." she began to cry. "That's what we've been trying to tell them." Alan and Barry both said. "I'm going." I answered. "We'll be okay, you guys know what you're doing. I trust you." "I'm with him." Daniel grabbed my hand. "Then I'm going too." Cornelia hugged us both. "Fuck him." Told you she was not as genteel as she appeared to be. Eventually Daniel and I escaped from the crowd of people to the bedroom. I needed some time alone with my lover and Daniel felt the same way. We said very little, just slipped off our clothes, climbed onto the bed and met in the middle. This was our favorite way to spend time together, cuddling, no rush to do anything. We were so comfortable in each other's arms that soon we were asleep, exhausted from all the stress and worry. Throngs of people surrounded our car as we approached the Arthur H. Avery Foundation building. It looked like everyone in New York had turned out to see what was going to happen. Barricades had been erected to keep the mob back from the entrance. What had started out as a quiet somber ceremony had been turned into the media circus of the year. NYPD cars lined one side of the street; news broadcast vans, the other. When our car finally reached its destination we received last minute instructions from the agents. "Do not stop and talk to anybody. Get into the building as quickly as possible." Alan and Barry beseeched us. The short walkway from the car to the door was lined with police officers and reporters. I could feel the heavy padded flak jacket pulling under my suit. I reached for Daniel's hand and pulled him out of the car with me. Mr. Jamison, Mr. Scott." I heard the reporters call as Daniel and I sprinted to the door, hand in hand. I caught a quick glimpse of Carole in the crowd. No one had told me she was coming. The guards pushed us into the building. Mr. Avery and Cornelia Garland met us inside the door, greatly relieved that we had made it unscathed. There hanging on the walls of the lobby were the culmination of the last year's work, three colorful canvases, each six feet tall and five feet wide. They were breathtaking, even if I had painted them. The focal point of the area, they would be visible through the glass wall facade for a block in any direction. I could not control the surge of emotion that swelled through me. My eyes clouded over and tears began to run down my face. Seeing them in the studio was nothing like seeing them in their final home. Daniel knew what had happened and moved to caress my back and wipe my tears. When my vision began to clear and I regained control I took a more critical look at their placement. Always the perfectionist I could see some things that I would change now that they were in this magnificent space, nothing that anyone but their creator would understand. A brush stroke here, a slightly different shading there might improve the images, but it might also destroy the whole effect. "Mr. Avery. Let me apologize for all the trouble. I'm so sorry for all this." "Paul, don't worry about it. It's not your fault that some idiot is after you. Let the police do their job. Think of the great publicity that this is giving both The Foundation and you." Obviously he was trying to deflect my concern about the mess. "Come on, there are several people I want you to meet. Everyone loves the paintings. Don't be surprised if your phone starts ringing off the hook. Looks like you're going to be busy for a while." He chuckled. "No, no. He's mine for the next little while." Cornelia interrupted. "We've got this new building in Houston that he's working on." "Already?" Mr. Avery turned to me. "Yes, sir. The sketches have been approved. Now it's on to the hard work, doing the preliminary mockups. Thank you so much for putting up with me. A part of me is hanging up there in those." I gestured to the wall. "I know, my boy. That's why you got the job in the first place. I could see how dedicated you are to your art and how much your care about our cause." We were introduced to so many people over the next hour that I scarcely remembered one name. I deflected everyone that was interested in purchasing a painting to Nina. She was the businessperson here, not me. I was just the painter. The actual ceremony was very simple. Mr. Avery made a short speech about the work that The Foundation was undertaking in educating underprivileged children all over the world. He then introduced me. I spoke for a few minutes about the great honor of being able to do the paintings and for several more minutes about how important I felt art education was to a well-rounded child. The mayor spoke along similar lines. Then it was over. We spent another hour shaking hands and meeting the movers and shakers of philanthropy. Alan signaled to me that our car was approaching and it was time to go. We sought out Mr. Avery and thanked him again. Cornelia escorted us to the door. "Take care, my loves. I'll see you back at the apartment soon." I paused before exiting and took Daniel in my arms. "I love you, baby." I kissed him quickly. He took my hand as Barry pushed us towards the car. "I love you, Daddy Bear." "Pandemonium broke out today at the Avery Foundation. WCJC has learned that Paul Jamison and his companion, Daniel Scott, were both shot as they were leaving the ceremony dedicating Mr. Jamison's paintings. Early indications from St. Mary's emergency room are that at least one person was killed in the attack. Police say they apprehended the suspected sniper as he attempted to leave a building located across from The Foundation. Reporters waiting at the hospital have been unable to confirm any more information at this time." The eyes in the portrait before me seemed to be staring straight into my soul. I had been standing barefoot painting and crying, working on the rendering of Daniel's mother. I had begun to talk to Mrs. Scott as if she were in the room with me and not just paint smeared on canvas. I needed to try to explain what had happened and why I had brought Daniel into my world, into harm's way. I heard Cornelia shuffling down the stairs and across the hardwood floor of my studio. "Paul, what are you doing? Why are you still up at this hour? It's almost four thirty." "I know. I just couldn't sleep. I thought that working would tire me out. I used to paint late in the night after I had one of those horrible nightmares." The studio had always been my escape, my way of pushing the world away from me. It was an obsession that kept me from having to face the life outside my door. Daniel had shown me a way to balance that obsession with the rest of my life. His love had healed me in so many ways. Now again I had picked up the brushes to try to find relief from the grief and guilt I felt. I looked up at her standing with her arms crossed over the floor-length dressing gown she wore. She had been ensconced at the Fortress since we returned from New York, her maternal instincts working overtime. At least we were able to get rid of the security patrols. "Honey, you've got to try to take better care of yourself. It wasn't your fault that he died." She hugged me from behind. "You know, after I met Daniel the nightmares never came back. It was like he chased them away. Now every time I lie down all I can hear is the gunshots, all I see is blood everywhere." I sobbed. "Why did this have to happen?" "Paul, it will take time. I know it's not easy." She tried to comfort me. "Cornelia, two people died because of me, because of my actions." "Shut up, damn it! Don't say that. Two people died because of Tony; it's his fault, not yours." She was adamant. "If he hadn't been fucking around with that guy, none of this would have ever happened." "Hand me that frame, will you. This is finished." I turned, pointing to the table beside Cornelia. No matter what she said, I knew that I the guilt I felt was with me to stay. I was partly to blame that two people were dead. Eric had destroyed so many lives in a senseless act of retribution. He had plotted his vengeance for the two years since I had broken up with Tony, all because he felt I ruined his career. "Honey, it's incredible." "This is Gene Howard reporting from the Fulton County Courthouse. The jury in the murder trial of brother and sister, Eric and Carole Newcomb, has found them guilty on all charges. As we have reported throughout the trial evidence pointed to Mr. Newcomb as the person who bombed the home of Paul Jamison that resulted in the death of security guard Michael Spencer. Ms. Newcomb was charged with conspiracy after the police learned that she began dating a member of the staff of Mr. Jamison's gallery. Newcomb and his sister are also charged in planning the attack outside the Avery Foundation in Manhattan that caused the death of agent Barry Lewis. They have been extradited by the governor of New York and will be stand trial there in a few weeks." "Paul, it's a little crooked. Move it just a bit to the right." Cornelia instructed. She was standing back giving directions as I tried to hang the portrait over the fireplace. "Perfect. That's it." Stepping back from the hearth I felt myself being pulled into a powerful hug from behind. "Happy birthday, baby." I whispered. "I love you Daddy Bear."