Intimate Stranger

Intimate Stranger 5

By Diana

Author's Notes: Whew! This piece was hard work! Sorry for the delay, but it took me DAYS to iron out the mess I made in this chapter! Due to lack of actual facts, I've been forced to extrapolate hypothetical information from standard situations. In other words, I have no idea how Justin Timberlake really feels about his parents' divorce, and I definitely made up that bit about Christmas Eve. But I hope it's credible nonetheless. And don't forget to check out the prologue to my new story, "Bad Boys"! It focuses on a different band, but I hope you'll all enjoy it anyway!

Justin stared at the mahogany door before him, brow furrowed in thought. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had crept out of this place, out of his "home", afraid, ashamed and angry at what had been done to him.

And now he was right where he'd started. At the mouth of the lion's den.

But he didn't really have any other place to go. He wasn't ready to face his family yet, and his friends... no, he had no friends. He wasn't in N'Sync anymore, Britney had betrayed him... And then there was JC. His best friend. His hero.

The memory of last night's events evoked nothing but anger in Justin's mind. JC had duped him. That much had been obvious when Justin tried to kiss him. In some ways, it was worse than a lie: JC had raised Justin's hopes up, and then cruelly shot them apart.

At least Jack, with all his faults, was honest. At least when Jack said "I love you", it meant just that.

And Jack DID love him. More than anyone in the world. Justin knew that, despite the other night. It had been his own fault; only he could turn his sweet, gentle lover into a monster. Jack had lost control because he'd been insane with worry. If there was one thing Justin believed in, it was that Jack would never, COULD never hurt him deliberately.

Justin reached out and turned the knob. The door was unlocked and immediately swung open, as though it was welcoming him home.

This time there would be no return. This time, when Justin walked back into Jack's life, it would be for better or worse, for richer or poorer.

And nothing would ever tear them apart again.

He stepped through the door without a shred of hesitation and called out: "Jack! I'm home!"

No response was forthcoming. Justin frowned slightly. Jack had to be home... the door WAS unlocked, after all. The blonde shut the door behind him and walked into the kitchen.

Jack was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. A plate with scrambled eggs sat in front of him, untouched.

And on the other side of the table, a plate of spaghetti and a bowl of cereal.

Justin couldn't help grinning. Jack had known all along that he'd come back. He understood the power of their love. Take that, JC.

"Good morning." Jack said, not even looking up from the paper. His voice was flat, but not cold or hostile.

"Hey, hot stuff." The blonde walked over to Jack and sat in his lap, kissing him on the nose.

"Justin..." Jack shifted uncomfortably, and Justin could see pain in the older man's eyes. "Don't. Please?"

Justin caressed Jack's cheek gently. "It's okay, Jack. I understand why... why you did what you did. You were worried about me."

Jack shook his head. "No. No more excuses, Justin. I lost control, and I hurt you. Nothing can make that right."

Justin's hands lowered to Jack's chest. "We can just pretend it didn't happen. Who knows, maybe it really didn't."

"No!" Jack abruptly bolted up, forcing Justin to get to his feet. "I can't play that stupid game, Justin! I can't act like the truth doesn't mean anything!" Jack's lip quivered. "I love you. You know that. But I did it, and nothing can change that."

"I can take it, Jack." Justin wasn't even aware that he was sticking his chest out, as though to prove how tough he was.

"Yeah, you can take it." Jack shook his head sadly. "You can take the beatings and the rape and everything else... until you can't anymore. And then what?" He lowered his gaze to the floor.

Justin's eyes widened. This was the last thing he'd expected. "Jack, I..." He reached out to take his boyfriend's hand, but Jack drew away.

"Get out of here." the black-haired man pointed to the door. "I'm letting you go."

Justin's frown suddenly deepened into a look of anger. "You're... LETTING me?!" He grabbed Jack by the shirt and pulled him close. "Who the hell are you to be LETTING me do anything?" Jack tried to avoid Justin's eyes, but the younger teen grabbed his lover's chin, forcing those onyx orbs to look at him.

"You listen to me, Matthews. You accepted me when no one else would. You taught me the meaning of true love. And I'm NOT going to throw that away." Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Justin cut him off. "We're not breaking up, Jack. I'm going to help you. I'll save you, just like you saved me."

Before Jack could move, Justin kissed him once, briefly and lightly. Without another word, he then turned around, walked into the living room and flopped onto the couch.

Jack remained standing in the kitchen, surprise and confusion vying for dominance in his heart. He knew that if he followed Justin to the living room, he'd be welcomed. They could sit down, talk, watch TV... maybe even make out a little.

It would be like that night had never occured. Like the rape had been a nightmare, and now they were awake.

But Jack could never forget. Those memories were seared into his brain: Justin's choked screams of pain, and how good it had felt to CAUSE those screams. Jack shuddered as he remembered his boyfriend's cries, begging him to stop.

And he hadn't. He had forced himself onto his lover, had blasphemized their most sacred ritual. All because of his paranoid fear of losing Justin. All because he knew he was incomplete without Justin.

A part of him understood that what he did to Justin didn't really matter. The blonde had been abused in every possible way, and he was still here. He would always come back, because as far as Justin Timberlake was concerned, Jack was IT. The only one for him.

Jack shook his head. Justin would keep coming back, but for how long? How long until enough was enough? How long until he'd walk out that door and never come back?

Things couldn't stay like this. Justin deserved better, but he didn't WANT better. He wanted Jack, so Jack had to be worthy of him. Starting today.

The 24-year-old headed for the bedroom and got his address book. Last year, his friend Molly had given him the name and number of a psychologist up in Montreal who worked wonders for people with temperment problems. He hadn't felt that it was necessary, but promised to make an appointment. She eventually realized he was only stalling, that he had no intention of actually going, and stopped asking.

Now the time had finally come. Jack would go to Montreal. Justin could come with him... but no, that wouldn't be right. Jack wanted it to be a surprise. He wanted to walk out of Justin's life and return a new man, the RIGHT man.

Besides, it was too soon to leave Orlando. After Jack learned to control his anger, he would take Justin away from all the bad memories this place held. And they'd start over.

And this time, they'd get it right.

"Montreal?" Justin repeated in disbelief.

Jack grinned as he stuffed the last of his shirts into his suitcase. "Montreal. I can't tell you why. It's a surprise, I don't want to spoil it."

Justin rubbed his eyes. He felt like his life was slowly unravelling, spiralling out of control. In the past two weeks, he'd fallen in love and lost his virginity to a man who was NOT JC. He'd been hit, put through a window, raped... and the two people he trusted most had decieved him. His life had always been in turmoil, but Justin had hoped that being with Jack would make the rest of the world just fall into place.

But the fragments of reality were simply spinning around faster and faster, smothering him. And it was getting harder to maintain any kind of grip on his own life.

"So... how long will you be gone?" Justin asked, swallowing hard.

Jack paused, seeing how hard this was on the younger teen. Ducking forward, he placed a soft kiss on Justin's lips. "It's only for a week. And I'll call every day." Jack abruptly lowered himself to his knees, looking up into Justin's eyes.

"I love you, Justin. More than anything. But I've done some really bad things to you." He smiled softly. "When I get back, I'll make it up to you. All of it. I swear."

Justin grabbed Jack tightly, not willing to let him go. Jack had been his lifeline, the one thing he could ALWAYS rely on. And now he'd really be on his own.

Finally, Jack broke away, brushing his hand against Justin's cheek. "You'll be fine, Just. It's only for a week." Rising, he picked up his suitcase. "I'll be back before you know it."

And then he was gone.

Justin was impossibly, mind-numbingly bored.

It was amazing. Jack had only left three hours ago, and already Justin was ready to start clawing at the walls. There was nothing but brain-rotting infomercials on TV, his throat hurt from singing and if he had to lie down for another second, he'd put HIMSELF through another window. At this rate, he'd be in the wacky factory long before Jack came home.

Going out at first seemed like a plausible option... but where to? Not the mall or anyplace public; if he got recognized, he'd be mobbed, and he wasn't in the mood to meet any fans. Maybe he could call someone, just to talk...

A slight tremor of anger ran through him. No WAY. He wasn't going to call JC or Britney or Chris. They were all the same. Lying, scheming, plotting behind his back. He couldn't trust them anymore. He couldn't trust anyone.

A series of shrill beeps startled him out of his musings. Justin blinked once, realizing his cellphone was ringing.

He frowned deeply. Had his thoughts of N'Sync and Britney triggered something? Was that one of them now, "just calling to say hi"? And maybe proposition him at the same time?

The beeping continued. Justin ignored it, but after three minutes, he finally lost his temper and grabbed the phone, turning it around.

The caller was listed as one Lynn Harliss.

Justin immediately felt his cheeks flame with guilt. His mother. He'd wanted to visit her since N'Sync arrived in Orlando, but somehow he hadn't even gotten around to calling her.

Without another second's delay, Justin turned the phone on. "Mom?"

"Hi, honey!" Lynn greeted pleasantly. "How are you?"

"Okay, I guess..." Justin stammered. He hadn't really expected her to CALL... "Is everything okay?"

There was a slight pause, and Justin could practically hear his mother's next line before she said it. "Actually... I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"

Justin smiled bitterly. God forbid she'd actually just want to check up on him. Nope, not Lynn Harliss. She had two little kids on her hands, and Justin? Oh, Justin could take care of himself just fine.

"Sure." he replied, keeping his tone as neutral as he could. "What's up?"

"Well, Jonathon has a dentist's appointment in half an hour, and Steven fell asleep. He's been a little feverish lately, I don't want to wake him. Could you come over and keep an eye on him?"

"Why can't Paul do it?" For a moment, Justin was horrified at the apathy he was feeling. He loved his mother, and on any other day, he would jump at a chance to see his baby brother. But he was so tired, so hollow... like Jack had taken all of Justin's emotions with him.

"He's out of town, remember?" Lynn sounded surprised that Justin didn't know that. As though she'd bothered to tell him in the first place. But Justin found that he didn't really care where his stepfather was. It just didn't seem important.

"Whatever. I'm on my way." The teen swept his hand across the coffee table, grabbing his keys with nerveless fingers. Without waiting to hear his mother's response, Justin turned off the cellphone and rose, stretching for a moment before putting his jacket on and leaving his apartment.

The Harliss home hadn't changed much in the months Justin had been touring. As always, he felt more than a little bizarre at the thought of this house being his and yet not his. He'd felt that way for a long time, ever since Paul Harliss married his mother. Maybe it was because some part of him refused to acknowledge that the Timberlake family had really been destroyed by Lynn and Randall's divorce.

Justin's eyes glazed over as a particular memory came to mind: Twelve years old. His father was gone. The fact had registered with astounding swiftness, and the pain was almost unbearable. He'd called JC, and when the older boy arrived, Justin had immediately fallen apart in his arms. He'd buried his face in JC's chest, not wanting to face the world, not wanting anyone to see him so weak and pathetic. He had been terrified of the unknown, terrified that he would only be half a person without his father.

And JC had held him silently, letting Justin cry and scream and laugh from the sheer madness of it all. And then his friend had looked down at him, smiling, and said four words Justin would never forget.

You'll always have me.

Christmas Eve two years later. Paul and Lynn somewhere else in the house, Jonathon fast asleep. Justin and JC admiring the tree. Then the sudden urge to look up, and lo and behold, a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

JC had followed Justin's gaze upward, and upon spotting the greenery, he giggled. "Mistletoe."

Justin immediately felt his cheeks flame. He was under the mistletoe with JC. But he was being stupid, of course; that was just a dumb tradit...

JC dove in before Justin realized it, pecking him ever-so-gently on the lips. Justin's knees almost gave out, and for a split-second, they stared at each other, JC's goofy look giving way to a more serious expression. The air was practically charged with electricity, and inwardly Justin was whispering and screaming at the same time: Do it again, Josh, but slower. Stronger. Put your arms around me, don't ever let me go. I love you.

The older boy seemed entranced, captured in a moment he couldn't define. Licking his lips, he had slowly moved his head down to meet Justin's mouth once more...

"Justin! Joshua!" Lynn called from upstairs.

Just like that, things were as they had always been. JC backed off, grinned widely and took off, Justin right behind him. All remained unspoken, the Christmas tree their only witness.

They never talked about that night. Justin hadn't even thought about it in years.

The blonde teen blinked, banishing the specters of the past. They were meaningless now. The past was dead.

Composing himself, Justin walked up to the front door and knocked. After a few seconds, there was a click from inside and the door swung open. No one was there to greet him.

Puzzled, the teen walked into the house. "Mom? Jonathon?"

The door slammed shut behind him, and Justin whirled around just as Joey Fatone grabbed him.

Justin roared an angry denial as Joey picked him up and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The blonde squirmed around, fists clenched, howling in indignation at being tricked yet again.

Joey's stride didn't falter despite Justin's wild kicking. He walked into the kitchen and deposited Justin in a heap on the linoleum floor.

As Justin climbed to his feet and focused his eyes on the occupants of the room, he went pale.

Three people were sitting at the kitchen table, staring at him with unreadable expressions. To the right was his treacherous ex-"girlfriend" Britney Spears, nervously rubbing her hands together. JC sat to the left, eyes cast downward at the floor.

And between them, looking like she'd just recieved the shock of her life, was Lynn Harliss.

Chris, Joey and Lance suddenly moved into view, blocking the exits. Ensuring that Justin would have no escape.

Justin looked at the three, alternating between his mother, JC and Britney. Finally, he said: "Let me guess. Steven doesn't really have a fever."

Lynn nodded. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. At last, she managed to say: "He's... with Paul and Jonny. They went to... to the park."

Justin narrowed his eyes, glaring at JC murderously. "You sick freak." He snarled through clenched teeth. "You lead me on, and then you call my MOTHER?!"

JC opened his mouth to answer, but Justin threw a hand out. "Shut the fuck up! I don't want to hear any more lies!" He turned to his mother. "What did this bastard tell you, Mom?"

"We told her everything, Justin." Britney said softly. "We want..."

"I don't CARE what you want!" Justin screamed, causing Britney to jump slightly. "Answer me, Mom! What dit they tell you?!"

Lynn shivered slightly, but suddenly she was all business. "Sit down, Justin."

"But..."

"I said sit down, Justin." Mrs. Harliss' tone was laced with steel, and Justin found himself sitting opposite the three despite himself.

"Is it true?" she asked.

Justin was caught off-guard by the question. "Is what true? That I'm gay? Yes."

Lynn narrowed her eyes. "Justin, honey, you KNOW that doesn't matter to me. You're my son, and I love you regardless." She made a steeple with her fingers. "Still... accepting you in a relationship with a man is one thing." Her tone grew deadly-serious. "But an abusive relationship..."

Justin leapt up, slamming his hand on the counter as he rounded on JC. "Who the hell gave you permission to tell her?!"

"You don't think I have a right to know if my son is being beaten?!" Lynn was horrified. She couldn't reconcile her sweet Justin with this calloused, angry young man.

"Stay out of this, Mom. This is between JC and me." Justin glared at his former best friend. "You mean nothing to me, Chasez. Do you understand that? You can't tell me how to live my life!"

JC suddenly rose. "Dammit, Just, don't you get it?! This isn't about YOUR life anymore! This is about US!"

"Are you brain-dead?! There is no us!"

JC walked around the table, approaching Justin slowly. "That's not true, and you know it."

Justin stepped back, keeping a distance from his friend. "What are you talking about?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

JC stopped, staring at Justin from across the space between them. It was like staring down the corridor of time, searching for that glimmer, that forbidden possibility that had existed so long ago. Joshua Chasez and Justin Timberlake, bodies and hearts entwined. For that fantasy, for that hope, he would have done anything.

"Justin... I love you." he finally said. A more simple or real declaration of love never existed.

But as expected, Justin was skeptical. He snorted and said: "You tried that last night, Josh."

And he was correct, of course. JC had been given a chance that night, and he'd fucked it up royally. What right did he have to ask for another?

But the truth had to count for SOMETHING.

"I'm not lying, Justin. I'm in love with you."

"I don't believe you." Justin spat defiantly. He would not be weak again. Last night had hurt too much, and he didn't ever want to go through that again. He loved JACK, because Jack was real, Jack was genuine, and JC was nothing but a suffocating web of deception and manipulation.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. And I wanted to tell you so many times." JC came closer, but Justin moved away warily. "But I was too scared. I didn't want to lose you." He reached out, and Justin retreated again, like touching JC would be some sort of unspeakable crime.

"Please... please believe me." the older teen pleaded quietly. Justin had backed himself up against the sink and had nowhere else to go. "Look at me, Justin."

Their eyes met. "I love you." JC said again.

The emotional impact of those three words could be compared to a baseball bat swung at Justin's face. He could read his best friend like an open book; they were still that close in spite of everything. Or maybe BECAUSE of everything. And JC's statement was true.

For a moment, Justin had a vision of himself and JC embracing, kissing, making up for all the time they had lost. And they were happy, so happy... it would be impossible to achieve such bliss on their own, or with any other. Only together.

But the vision faded. It was just a dream. Jack was the reality, and nothing could change that. Not even JC.

"It's too late." Justin said, more to himself than to JC. "I'm with Jack now."

JC's face fell. Justin had never seen his best friend look so crushed in his life. "So... what I feel doesn't matter? You'd... you'd rather be with someone who hits you than be with me?"

Justin ran a hand through his hair. "It's not like that, Josh. It's just... I..." He paused, trying to put into words the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling. "When I'm with Jack, I never have to worry about anything. I was scared and alone before I met him, and he made everything just be RIGHT. No one else can do that."

"Let me try..."

Justin shook his head, heading for the door Lance was blocking. "No. I'm sorry, Josh, but... no." He turned to the door, and that was when JC made his move.

Unlike the previous night, there was no desperation, no frightened panic, no burning need to make Justin stay. Only the calm knowledge that if he was ever going to lay it all down, now was the time.

Taking three giant steps across the kitchen floor, JC caught Justin's shoulder and spun him around. Before the startled blonde could react, JC grabbed his friend by the back of his neck and pulled him in, pressing his mouth to Justin's.

Justin's eyebrows shot up in stunned surprise as JC kissed him. He stood rigidly for a few moments, not really understanding what was happening to him.

But understanding came with absolute clarity: Joshua Chasez was kissing him. Justin's instincts took over, and he relaxed, sagging just a bit. His arms came up, but rather than push JC away, they drew him closer. Justin opened his mouth, and his tongue engaged JC's in a ferocious, passionate duel.

The kitchen of the Harliss house ceased to exist; the two teens were lost in the power of their desire. JC's arms lowered to Justin's waist and lifted the younger teen up, setting him down on the kitchen table. They clutched at each other, strained against each other, devoured each other in their burning need.

Finally, inexorably, the kiss ended. Both teens were left gasping for air as they rested their foreheads together, eyes closed and lips tingling. The darkness faded; they weren't alone anymore. Lance had turned away subtly, but Chris, Joey and Britney were watching them with rapt eyes. Lynn herself seemed to be fighting embarrassment and relief: embarrassment at witnessing such an intimate moment of her son's, relief that at least it was JC he was sharing it with.

For a long moment, the kitchen was as silent as a tomb.

"Give me three days." JC whispered, his hands lightly caressing Justin's face. "If nothing happens between us, I'll let you go."

Justin's eyes opened hesitantly, like he was afraid of waking up in bed, alone and more miserable than ever. But JC was there, holding him, waiting for an answer.

He nodded slowly, and some small part of him swelled with happiness as JC's eyes lit up with hope. It was official now. A long-dead dream had just been given a second chance to come true.

Maybe this time they'd get it right.

Night had fallen, and Britney tiredly climbed up the stairs to the guest room Lynn had prepared for her. On her way, she passed Justin's room. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she stuck her head through the open door.

Justin was on the phone, staring out the window with his back turned to her. "So you'll be in Montreal tomorrow? That's great. Me? Oh, I'm..." The teen bit his lower lip. "Keeping busy. Yeah, the reciever just broke when I picked it up... That old, huh? I'll buy a new one tomorrow. Just call the cellphone, I'll keep it on." He paused, very clearly giving a lot of effort to keep his lies convincing. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'll visit my Mom, see how Steven's doing. It's been a while... Nah, I wouldn't worry about them. They're probably gone by now."

To Britney's surprise, Justin's nervousness suddenly melted away, just like that. He smiled. "I love you too, Jack. Good night." He lowered the phone and tossed it onto his bed.

"Are you okay?" Britney asked before she could stop herself. Justin jumped up and whirled around, but visibly calmed at the sight of her.

He smirked slightly, a bitter travesty of the old Justin's sunny grins. "Aside from the fact that I'm probably crazy? Just fine."

Britney stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. "I don't think you're crazy, Justin."

"I'm sacrificing a great boyfriend for a pipe dream that'll just end up disappointing me. What would you call that?"

The pop star shrugged. "I'd call it love."

Justin sighed sadly, sitting down on the bed. "Love. You know, Brit, I'm starting to think I don't know what that is anymore. Everyone says my relationship with Jack is wrong, but it feels so right to me..." He shrugged helplessly. "And even my mom says JC is the man for me, but I don't know if I still love him like that. So either everyone else is wrong, or I'm the one with the problem.

Britney sat down next to Justin. "Well, I'm no expert, Just. But I can give you some advice, if you want it." At Justin's nod, she continued. "First of all, you definitely have feelings for JC. Platonic friends can't kiss the way you two did." She stopped for a moment, letting that sink in before moving on.

"Second of all, I don't think ANYONE really knows what love is. I guess we all have to figure it out on our own. But just because you think you have an answer, doesn't mean it's the RIGHT one." She put her hand on his thigh. "That's why you should give JC a fair shot. Otherwise you'll never know what could've been."

Justin looked down at the floor for a moment, lost in thought. Then, catching Britney off-guard, Justin pulled her into a tight hug.

"Thank you." he whispered. "For everything. For being my friend even after what I did to you..."

Britney smiled and hugged him back. "It's okay, Justin." She moved her head back and kissed Justin on the cheek. "You can pay me back by following your heart."

Justin nodded and rose, taking one last look at her before walking out the door.

"Umm... Josh?" Justin called meekly, standing at the threshold of JC's room. JC was sitting up in bed, shirtless, leaning against the headboard with a magazine in his lap. The sight of his best friend's smooth, muscular torso sent a jolt of arousal through the young blonde.

"Hey, Curly." JC seemed surprised to see him there. The awkwardness was tangible, and justifiable: They weren't just best friends, not anymore. They had kissed. For better or worse, things would always be different between them from now on.

"Can..." Justin began, but his breath caught in his throat. It hurt JC to see his friend so subdued. "Can... Can I... I mean, would it be okay if..."

JC immediately shifted over to the right side of the bed with a small grin. "Hop on in."

Keeping his gaze on the floor, Justin timidly climbed into the bed and slid under the covers. JC's skin felt like acid; when he accidentally brushed his hand against the older teen's leg, he jerked back, almost catapulting himself off the mattress. It wasn't fair: he was finally in bed with the man of his dreams, with The One, and all he could think about was Jack Matthews and his promise.

When I get back, I'll make it up to you. All of it.

Justin was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, absolutely terrified. JC, fighting tears himself, said: "It's all right, Just. We don't... we don't have to DO anything."

"H-hold me, Josh." Justin whimpered. "P-please..."

JC slid an arm under his friend and rolled over on his side, laying his other arm on Justin's chest. He could feel Justin's breathing start to accelerate.

"Shh... don't be scared, Justin. Nothing's going to happen. I promise." JC murmured.

Justin didn't cry. He shut his eyes tightly, as if trying to will the universe to leave him alone, and snuggled closer to JC's body. A few minutes later, the look of forced concentration faded, and Justin fell asleep.

When JC was sure Justin was asleep, he finally stopped struggling and began to cry. He didn't dare make a sound, but the flow of hot tears went unabated.

This was all his fault. He was so goddamned ignorant. He, who had always prided himself on knowing Justin inside and out, had been magnificently in the dark about his best friend's feelings. They'd slept in the same house, in the same BED for God's sake! And it had taken this crisis to wake JC up.

But that wasn't the only thing that hurt. Justin had changed so much. He was distant, cold, defensive... all of his energy had been drained out of him. And not overnight: even a vampire like Jack Matthews couldn't accomplish that. No, this change had taken weeks, maybe months. And JC had been completely unaware. Until it was quite possibly too late.

If only he'd caught it sooner... if only he'd told Justin the truth back in the MMC... if only he hadn't chickened out last night, or any of the nights he had lived in the Harliss residence... if only, if only, if only. There were so many ways this could have been avoided, and JC had missed them all.

"I'm sorry, Curly." he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

A determined look flashed across JC's features, and he wiped away his tears with his free hand. This was it. No more lies, no more feelings hidden in the dark. Tomorrow, he would undo Jack Matthews' work. He would bring the old Justin back.

And then... and then he'd win back Justin's heart. They would have a happy ending.

No matter what it took.

To be continued...