Michael threw Peter into a chair.

"You have five minutes to explain yourself," he spat.

Peter took a shuddering breath and stared down at his hands.

"I do like Micky a lot," he started, "but I would...I would never do that—"

"He saw you before he went unconscious! You stood over him, unbuckling your belt. He woke up in agonizing pain! You...You..." Michael shook so much he couldn't finish what he was saying. He saw red.

"That...was just an a-act..."

"Don't fuckin' stutter when you're talkin' to me!"

Peter closed his eyes. "Who told you that something was wrong? Micky?"

"No. Davy. He called, sayin' he'd spoken to Micky—"

"That was the signal."

"What?"

"Davy is...he's...very manipulative. We spoke after I came to the bar one night and I'd gotten so drunk, I confessed my feelings about Micky. But he got...so angry...starting spewing stuff about how Micky was 'his.' It was like he'd taken one look at him and didn't want anything less."

Michael stayed silent.

"He threatened to tell everyone I was queer unless I helped him devise a plan to get Micky all to himself. But I told him that'd never work...Micky liked you, he wouldn't go for Davy, plus he was much larger so he could easily get away from Davy if he tried anything. He realized I was right."

"Davy put you up to this?"

"He...He said I'd get my chance to 'be with' Micky too, but he didn't want me to do anything 'til he was there. After he called, I only had a few minutes to knock Micky unconscious, as Davy wasn't very far away. So I pushed and...unbuttoned my jeans...but it...I didn't go any farther than that. Davy arrived and he...he..."

"What the hell are you sayin', Peter?" Michael hissed.

"Davy raped him!" Peter cried. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he threw his hands up in the air. "Davy did! Davy, Davy, Davy! I just...I just knocked him unconscious so he'd be easy to overpower...but Davy, he made me take the blame."

Michael didn't hear anything else.

He was thinking about Micky.

Whom he'd left, alone and asleep, with Davy.