The courtroom was alive with whispers and muted conversations as the entire audience was engaged in mass confusion and intrigue. Every single pew was slam-packed with eager looky-loos, everyone waiting impatiently for court to come back into session. It was difficult to tell which people in the audience were there to support which side, and maybe that was because each side was equally at fault. Each side was equally villainous and deceptive. It took Rod and I far too long to figure that out, but at least we had gotten there eventually.

Considering the heaping pile of old grudges and prejudice and pure testosterone-fueled rivalry between the two of us that we had to overcome, it was no surprise that it had taken some time to come to our senses. The Fixer and the Bulldog were inherently at odds, and after the ridiculous scene I caused at that attorney convention weeks ago, I could understand why all these people had crowded into the courthouse for every day of this pointless trial. They were all the same kind of people who got their rocks off gawking at car accidents, who egged on bar fights and watched hockey purely for the beatdowns.

On one hand, I was disgusted by it. But on the other hand, well, I was human, too. I understood the allure of watching two good-looking, whip-smart, doggedly stubborn attorneys go head to head and toe to toe in a real-live courtroom drama. Hell, we were even more entertaining than most of those embarrassing reality television shows. This was real life, unfolding in gory, juicy detail right in front of a live audience of courtroom junkies.

No wonder Delaney and Southwestern First Bank had sought us out to represent the two sides of this farcical case. They knew that all they had to do was ramp up the drama and pit us against each other, and the tensions would ride so high as to cause a mistrial. They wanted a big, dramatic, disastrous scene to take the media publicity and eye of the law off of their misconduct. They wanted a huge, theatrical-- but classic-- redirection. And they had gotten pretty damn close to getting it, too. It still gave me a shudder of self-loathing to realize how shrewdly they had cherry-picked Rod and I for these roles. They knew what they were doing.

But unfortunately for them, we knew what we were doing, too.

And what was more, we knew what they had in mind and how to unravel the whole shebang. These folks had crowded in here hoping for a show, and by God, they were going to get one. Rod and I had done all we could. We had handed over all of our carefully-uncovered evidence, our top-secret information. We had gone to Judge Ramirez hat in hand, egos brushed aside, to lay bare our intentions and our indiscretions. Now, it was up to the judge as to how things would proceed from here. My handsome, sexy opponent and I could only hope that Judge Ramirez would see the same ugly portrait of the situation that we saw, the one we painted for him back in private chambers.

Either way, it felt awfully great to finally be honest about something. To stretch out the ugly truth to be literally judged, rather than shuffling around behind the scenes in secret, trying to stow away the truth and perpetuate more lies. I was done living in the dark. I was done lurking in the shadows. No matter what happened in court today, I was ready to stop pretending to be something I wasn’t. I was fully prepared to walk out of here a free man-- even though right now it felt like I was the one on trial, not Mark Delaney.

And I knew with one glimpse of Rod’s strained, worried face that he was thinking the exact same thing. Both of us had presented ourselves like lambs for the slaughter, admitting our mistakes, coming together against the bigger enemy, the true bad guys behind the curtain.

Our respective clients were on edge, too. They both knew that something unplanned was afoot. Their carefully-laid plans were coming unhinged from all angles, and none of them knew who to trust anymore. That was kind of satisfying to behold, honestly. Bill Marriott had scooted his chair all the way to the opposite end of the table we shared, and he was pointedly refusing to look at me. He was pissed, and I knew why. It didn’t bother me. In fact, I kind of liked it.

And of course, Mark Delaney was looking similarly panicked. He was gnawing at his fingernails with crazed eyes, like a wild animal caught in a trap. He was jiggling his legs nervously, tapping his fingers on the table, sighing dramatically every few minutes or so. Clearly, the anticipation was killing him. Rodney sat back in his chair, staring straight ahead, patiently waiting for the judge to come back, just like I was. There was nothing more either of us could do.

The members of the jury trickled back in and quietly took their seats, all of them wearing expressions of bewilderment and mild annoyance. This case had dragged on much longer than any of us wanted it to, and I knew the jury members had to be pretty damn exhausted with the whole thing by now. I hoped that their suffering would be over by the end of this session. I hoped that the truth would bear out.

I could just feel that somewhere on the other side of the world, my duplicitous father was raging and fuming about my complete reversal. He was the king of lies, the sultan of deception, and he always expected me to be the same way. I suppose, for a while, I kind of was. But not anymore. Regardless of what happened in court today, I was a changed man, and I had Rodney Barrington to thank for that.

A door at the side of the courtroom whined open on squeaky hinges, alerting everyone in the room that someone important was entering. The judge. He came marching in with a book under his arm and a harried look on his somber features. The chatter around the courtroom slowly but surely trickled down to silence as everyone shushed each other and paid rapt attention. Judge Ramirez got back up into his seat and looked out over the audience with hawkish eyes. I held my breath without even meaning to, and I got the distinct sensation that everyone else was doing the same. You could’ve heard a pin drop as Judge Ramirez slowly got to his feet and looked up to address the courtroom at large. He looked pissed.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have a vital announcement to make,” he said, pausing to clear his throat and compose himself. “There has been a major development in the proceeding of this case. Some new, pertinent information has come to the surface just now, information that paints a much different and much broader portrait of the situation than was previously presented on these current charges.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening in itself as he took a breath and went on.

“And as such, I have reason to believe that this is a case of bank fraud that extends far beyond the scope of the case as presented in this docket. It is larger than Mark Delaney. It is larger than Bill Marriott. And it is larger than these two fine attorneys standing before me. This is a peculiar predicament in which it would appear that the plaintiffs, the executives from Southwestern First Bank, along with the defendant, Mark Delaney, are responsible for gross abuses of the law and miscarriages of justice.”

There was a collective gasp throughout the room, and I felt my heart pounding so fast it might just burst out of my chest. I wanted so badly to look over at Rod, but I forced myself not to. Not yet. There would be time for that later.

Judge Ramirez continued. “As such, I move that the men responsible for this elaborate plot to commit fraud are arrested on charges of fraud, forgery, perjury, and contempt of court.”

Guards came marching over to put Bill Marriott, Mark Delaney, and the executives of the bank who were seated in the front row right behind me in handcuffs. The audience watched in exhilaration as they were led away out of the courtroom and into custody. Judge Ramirez turned to the jury.

“I am dropping this case in light of these developments. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you are dismissed. Thank you for your patience and your service to the state of Nevada,” he announced. Then he looked at Rod and me. “I thank you both, Mr. Barrington and Mr. North, as well, for your dogged pursuit of justice and the truth. Good work. Court is dismissed.”

As soon as the gavel struck, Rod and I rushed over to each other to embrace and shake hands. His blue eyes were sparkling with victory and joy as he leaned in and whispered, “You, me, tonight. The Sentry Casino.”

“The Sentry?” I repeated incredulously.

He nodded and winked. “Yes. We’re going to celebrate.”

POP!

The cork of the champagne bottle went soaring through the air and one of the many men seated at our booth in a quieter corner of the nightclub reached up to catch it. It was the one called Zane, I realized, who caught it. The solid catch elicited a string of cheers and whoops from our group, as we were all at least halfway to shitfaced by now. Rod had brought me here to meet his coworkers, as he headed the legal team for the Sentry and La Torre. It felt a little bit like going to meet the parents, so I was kind of nervous, and therefore had tossed back probably one too many shots of tequila.

But so far, everything seemed to be going smoothly. The DJ was playing the best, most upbeat music, the bartenders did not water down our drinks one bit, and the energetic vibe of the place was invigorating my exhausted body. It wasn’t until now that I had begun to realize just how great a toll this case had taken on me. I had barely slept in two weeks, and the stress had really started to wear me down. But that was only yet another reason to kick back and let loose tonight, for once.

Even though the case we’d been assigned to had gotten totally scrapped and thrown out in favor of a much larger case, it still felt like a win-- for both of us. Maybe I had only gotten into law in the first place because it was expected of me, because I was meant to follow in my father’s footsteps.

But this? This was the real reason why being an attorney thrilled me. I was getting back to my roots, remembering that the true reason for being a part of this system was the adrenaline rush of doing the right thing. Of uncovering the truth and presenting it to the world, even if it was ugly and hard to look at. The truth was the most important thing in the world.

Well, maybe the second most important thing in the world. Second only to love.

And that was a new thing for me, too. Because on top of my decision to finally start living as an out, openly proud, gay man, I had also decided that I was tired of being lonely. I was finished with hiding out in my home gym and trying to sweat out my desires. Now, I knew there was a better way. Maybe it would mean alienating those who thought of me a certain way. I knew for a fact it would alienate my father, who was definitely not ready to embrace the new, true me. But it didn’t matter. Because this was my life and I was going to finally live it the way I wanted to, rather than following some arbitrary, stupid set of rules that didn’t matter.

I was free. Finally. And what was more… I was happy!

Rod was regaling the group with his account of the case and how it went down, and I was content to listen, smiling a goofy grin as I watched his handsome face light up. The Sentry guys were all captivated by the tale, and so was I-- but for a totally different reason. They were listening to the details of the story while I was paying attention to the details of Rod’s face. His sharp cheekbones, his cleft chin. His straight nose and Cupid’s bow lips. How white and straight his teeth were. How bright and shining his blue eyes were under the low lights of the nightclub. He was impossibly good-looking, and I knew, without even having to ask, that he was mine.

Lucky, lucky me.

“You guys should’ve seen the faces of the jury when Judge Ramirez dismissed the case. They all looked so relieved,” Rod was laughing.

“Yeah, we may have screwed things up for our clients, but at least we made the jury’s day,” I agreed, chuckling. Rod slipped an arm behind me, leaning in so that I could feel the warmth and energy radiating off of his body. He smelled intoxicating. Like booze, cologne, and unending self-confidence. There was nothing sexier in the whole world, in my opinion.

“Oh, Delaney’s face was priceless, too!” Rod added happily. “It was so nice to see that smug smile wiped off his stupid face. So glad I don’t have to put up with that prick anymore.”

“Me, too. I mean, Bill Marriott is a useless lump, but Delaney? That man’s so abrasive he could strip varnish,” I joked. The table erupted in laughter.

The man I vaguely remembered was called Mick grunted, “You two really found a way to turn this case on its head.”

“Yeah, this could’ve gone in such a different direction if you two weren’t so damn clever. I know I wouldn’t have seen it coming,” said Bart.

“It’s good to know that the justice system is going to be prosecuting the right people for once. Thanks to you guys,” added Devin warmly.

“Man, it’s gonna feel good seeing Delaney and the bank all sent to trial for fraud. Turns out Southwestern First was up for an audit, so they tossed this case together to throw off the scent and make themselves seem more legit. Such a scam,” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh, even better: I heard from a friend with connections that the court is even tossing in a conspiracy charge,” quipped Rod, grinning at me.

“Makes sense,” said Gage. “They were the masterminds of the whole damn plot.”

“Yep. But the true masterminds are Hudson and me,” said Rod proudly, which made me laugh. He leaned over to peck me on the cheek, and I felt my whole body go warm.

“Too bad we can’t prosecute the case ourselves, but we had to recuse ourselves for, you know, obvious reasons,” I lamented. Rod shrugged.

“Yeah, but be honest-- did you really want to have to look at Mark Delaney’s stupid face in person again? I know I don’t want that,” he laughed. “Besides, we need a break.”

“Right, take your well-deserved break,” said Bart, “but when you’re all refreshed and ready to get back in the game, I’ve got another troublemaker for you to sink your teeth into. There’s this damn card-counter we’ve been dealing with lately around here, and we’re going to need all hands on deck. Good-looking bastard if ever there was one, but slippery as all hell.”

“Sure sounds like a job for the Fixer,” I quipped, and everyone chuckled. Rod’s face was blushing pink from the alcohol and the compliments, and I just couldn’t resist leaning in to plant a big kiss on his lips. He tasted like tequila and victory, and I couldn’t wait to taste a little more later, when we were finally alone. For now, though, I would tame the monstrous beast of lust inside me and just enjoy our pleasant company here. After all, we had all the time in the world.