by H M Wolfe
Daniel trusted Ardan with his life, and the bloody whore used his influence on everyone in that house, little Elian included. Every time that goddamn man came back from wherever he had been, Brennan became nonexistent for the little boy, who made the other man the center of his universe. Of course, the bastard grabbed the opportunity with both hands, taking advantage of it and injecting his presence in the middle of the family even more.
One of these days, Brennan made a mental note, he would have to talk to the whore, and show him his place. He would use whatever argument and method it would take, even the less simple ones, to make sure his message was correctly understood. Once that was established, the young man shoved the thought in the back of his mind. He started to think again about the possible cause of the nightmares' return.
After spending about a minute staring at the ceiling, Brennan gasped in shock at the realization: his birthday, which coincided with the day his mother and stepfather were murdered, was coming in two weeks. This one supposed to be unique. It was the day he would finally open the box; his stepfather had given him for a birthday present, that fateful morning.
In that box, the man said, was the whole truth about his birth and the identity of his father. However, the one who raised Brennan like his own son warned, opening it while he was still a helpless teen could attract the predators lurking in the shadows. That's why his stepfather insisted; the box must remain closed until after his twenty-first birthday.
That must be it; the young man shifted in bed for the ten-thousandth time over the last hour. The dreams, nothing more than manifestations of his subconsciousness, were trying to send him a message. They were most likely related to the upcoming event. Although relieved at the thought, Brennan still couldn't sleep, so he decided to go to The Base's kitchen area and pour himself a glass of milk, the only remedy for his tense nerves.
As he got closer to his destination, a weak noise got his attention, making him stop and listen intently. It sounded like a child was crying, and it was coming from the kitchen. So Brennan hastened, prepared for the worse. The kitchen was left open, so the kids could grab a bite if they got hungry after dinner time. All the sharp utensils were under lock and key, but accidents could still happen.
For the second time that night, Brennan gasped in shock, the reaction provoked by the scene before his eyes. On the floor, knees hugged to his chest, curled in himself, the most delicate-looking of Tarquin's triplets was sobbing his heart out, surrounded by his brothers, Lorcan, Cian, and Jeroen, the white-haired kid. Except for the one who was crying, all of them flinched when they saw the man.
"Hello, kiddos." Brennan raised his hands in surrender, first kneeling and then sitting on the kitchen floor. "How come you are here so late at night? I left you at the mansion, and since you aren't sixteen yet..."
"I gave them a ride." Lorcan's turquoise eyes met the man's. "Julien was in distress and needed to talk. The mansion is not safe for private discussions, so I brought them all here. Emery and Lochlin insisted they come too, so here they are."
"Look, boys, I'm not the enemy here," Brennan started in a soft voice, so uncharacteristic for him. "I want to help, and no, I'm not a snitch, but I have to know what's going on. I swear on my mother and stepfather's graves, your secrets are safe with me."
"Julien?" Cian gently touched the delicate blond on the shoulder. "Because of what happened, you probably didn't see enough of him to make an opinion, but Brennan here's a good man, one you can trust. I, Cian, and Jeroen can vouch for him, can't we, boys?"
"Okay, I'll tell him." The boy raised his head, the sight of his reddened, puffy eyes, making Brennan's heartache. "You can also tell Papa and Dad if you want. I'm as good as dead anyway."
Chapter 16
A fter a minute of silence that felt like an eternity, Julien started to talk again. "A couple of months ago, just before our fathers' accident, the three of us were invited to a birthday party. It was the first social event outside the family we'd attended, and we wanted to just...you know...blend into the crowd. Instead, bad things happened."
"What kind of...bad things?" Brennan's voice hesitated at the last two words, fearing the worst. "Were you harmed in any way?"
"No, at least I don't think so." Julien shook his head, a hurt and confused look in his sky blue eyes. "We only had one soda each, but after a while, Emery and Lochlin started to feel sleepy, and the host took them into one of the spare rooms. I, on the other hand, became very horny and completely lost control over my actions."
"A week or so after the party," Emery continued the story, while his brother fell silent, hanging his head low in shame, "we got an email containing photos of Julien, naked and in lewd poses. We were asked to pay one hundred thousand dollars, or else the photos would be posted everywhere on the internet, so we agreed."
"That's a lot of money." Brennan frowned. "Where did you get it from?" He gave the three blond boys a scrutinizing look.
"Our mother's brother raised me as his sole heir," Julien started to talk again, his voice low and a bit ragged. "He died when I was about seven, and then my mother, who was appointed as my guardian, followed him three years later. In her will, she set up an account for me, with three hundred thousand dollars. Money I got access to once I turned fifteen. I could use it; however, I saw fit; no one else had control over it."
"Let me guess; you are now penniless." Brennan pressed his lips together. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, crying your heart out. The bastards made you drain the account, didn't they?"
"Yes, you're right," it was Lochlin's turn to speak, "and this evening, they called again. When Julien told them he didn't have any money, they suggested an...alternative method of payment." The kid swallowed hard. "They gave him two days to decide," the boy added, defeat creeping into his voice.
"There is still time; you don't have to despair." Brennan tentatively caressed Julien's rebellious, golden curls. "I promise you I'll think of a way out, one way or another. But you also have to promise me you won't try anything reckless. Deal?"
"Deal." Julien nodded, a little spark of hope in his beautiful blue eyes.
Although he'd only slept for a couple of hours, Brennan woke up feeling fully refreshed and ready to start what was going to be a very long day. Since Daniel had started to use crutches, about a week earlier, his presence as caretaker wasn't required as much as before. However, the black-haired man had asked him to keep a close eye on everyone at the mansion, especially Quinlan, which he happily obliged.
Gabriel's boyfriend was going to stay there over the weekend, and as that was only two days away, Brennan had a strange feeling about it. Since that man had set foot in the mansion for the first time, Daniel's state of mind had changed considerably.
He was often sad, almost depressed, and also very tense, flinching at the faintest noise or sudden move, no matter how small. The man's sapphire blue eyes, so full of life up until then, had become dull and troubled, almost permanently clouded by sadness.
For the first time in years, Brennan didn't know what to do or who to turn to. Talking to Tarquin wasn't an option. Most likely, he was oblivious to the changes in his husband's behavior. He'd asked Daniel once what was wrong, but the man denied he was having a problem and made it clear he wanted the discussion to stop at that point.
With all the thoughts roiling inside his head like a hive of mad bees, Brennan parked his small car on the driveway and went straight to the master bedroom to help Daniel with his morning routine. As he still didn't have enough stability to stand by himself in the shower.
"What's on today's schedule, boss?" Brennan grinned when he appeared in the bedroom, once Tarquin finished helping his husband getting dressed. "Ready to get your lazy ass going on a nice, long morning walk?"
"Of course." Daniel nodded, his enthusiasm genuine. "That's exactly what I need before sticking this said ass into an office chair and burying myself in reports. However, before that, I'm going to have a long, interesting talk with my good friend Arda
n." The man smiled, extending his arms, so the other one could help boost him to his feet.
"Oh, that one!" Brennan made great efforts to hide the displeasure hearing the name provoked in him. "Actually, I would like to talk to him a little after we've done with your walk," he continued, offering Daniel his arm for support as they were stepping outside the house. "I've heard a lot of interesting things about him."
"Actually, Ardan also expressed a wish to talk to you." The black-haired man enthusiastically nodded. "You kept missing each other at The Base and didn't get to meet here, either, with him always on the run and you performing your caretaking-related duties..."
Brennan didn't reply, so the two of them walked in silence, enjoying the fresh, cool breeze, the warmth of the sun on their skin, and the beautiful show nature was generously offering for the men to enjoy. Gradually, Brennan's nerves relaxed, allowing him to focus on the other man, ready to intervene if he took a wrong step.
Daniel, on the other hand, was absorbed in his thoughts, some of them happy, while others not so. For the first time in months, the triplets, especially Julien, were a little more relaxed; they joined everyone for breakfast and even smiled a little. On the other hand, no matter how hard he tried, the man couldn't get rid of the feeling that Gabriel's boyfriend was bad news.
The man behaved impeccably on every occasion he was there, always polite and respectful, still treating Gabriel with consideration. Saying the right words at the right time...The sound of a child's laughter made Daniel raise his hand, a smile forming on his lips at the sight of Elian, who chased a seemingly exhausted Ardan through the portion of tall grass, that was only occasionally mowed.
"Here they are," he said in a relaxed, almost happy voice. "By all gods, dead, alive, and unborn, that blond kid gives my poor friend a hell of a run for the money."
"Hi, Brennan." The boy waved shyly, grinning with all his teeth. "Uncle Ardan is here. Come and play with us." With that, he hid behind the man, peeking out from time to time.
"Finally, the man of the moment in person," Ardan, the detested man spoke, his strange, turquoise eyes shining brightly. "The biggest idol of all children big and small, Peyton's trusted helper and the greatest caretaker in the world, according to my good friend here. An honor to meet you at last." He extended a hand.
"Let me take the boss man into the house, help him settle at the office, then we can talk." Brennan ignored Ardan's friendly gesture.
He performed his duties with the same care as ever, making sure Daniel was seated comfortably, despite the man protesting and reminding him that he wasn't as helpless as a few weeks earlier. While listening to his employer and nodding in approval, Brennan boiled on the inside, thinking about that whore's nerve. Soon, the pathetic excuse of a human being would be put into his place, he thought.
"Here you are." Ardan's smile was friendly. "Let's talk. You can ask me anything; I'm an open book. Of course, I don't expect you to reciprocate, although it would be nice to..."
"I despise you with every fiber of my being," Brennan spat, making the other one flinch violently. "Someone with a soul as tainted and perverted as yours doesn't belong here! So close to someone as innocent as Elian."
"After periods of intense physical activities, the little angel here tends to sleep very deeply for a couple of hours, but right now, he's on edge, so wouldn't understand why I no longer hold him," Ardan spoke softly. "He feels real safe when he listens to someone's heartbeats."
"See, that's what I hate about you." Brennan shook his head in disbelief. "The sly ways you use to worm your way into these decent, loving people's hearts. Is that what you did with the others, before ruining their lives? Did you take advantage of the bits and pieces of knowledge acquired from here and there and then deliver the final blow?"
"Hate..." Ardan started, examining the face of a very sleepy Elian, "it's a powerful word. Ever since Daniel told me about you, I knew that, under that tough exterior, you are a lost, hurting kid. If one of the scums I put into the ground is related to you, I'm deeply sorry for your loss, but they deserved it."
"So, you admit to being a dirty little whore who destroyed the lives of so many people, and you are saying it to my face." Brennan let out a revolted huff. "Do the others know what's behind the mask you're wearing? Have they seen the ugliness?"
"A man's life is the sum of the decisions he makes. Yes, I whored myself out to everyone who would want to fill me, and yes, I used my natural advantages to seduce people and destroy them afterward. In the twenty-one years that have passed since I made that decision, I've faced a lot more disapproval and judgment than what you throw at me right now. But you know what? I regret nothing."
"You had a choice! Everyone has one! You could've fought like I did when I was thrown into juvie at fourteen, and the bastards wanted to rape me! Or at the other place, which was far worse! But I've resisted, I've fought off beasts two or three times bigger and stronger than me," Brennan hissed. "And on top of that, you are proud of it!"
But Ardan didn't answer, his gaze far away, as he gently caressed Elian's curls, the child sound asleep. Someone had put ideas into Brennan's head, riling the kid up against him. That was daylight-clear, and that someone had not-so-good intentions. Barring his soul in front of a stranger wasn't something he usually did, but it was necessary for the much younger man to understand.
"How much do you really care about Elian? Because if you do, I want you to use your imagination for a moment."
CHAPTER 17
"W hat kind of question is that? One of those twisted games you play with your victims? Wrong man, buddy," Brennan hissed again. "This is a waste of time, he was right this time: you are a filthy, disgusting whore, and I'm going to take you down."
"You must care about this tiny, blond boy, deeply even, and that explains why you want to protect him from me or anyone else who would want to hurt him. You would fight tooth and claw, to the bitter end; you'd even die for him, wouldn't you?" Ardan's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes clouded with sadness.
"My mother and stepfather died seven years ago, most likely protecting me from something or someone," Brennan blurted out, "so yeah, I'd do the same, instead of opening my legs to every man who crossed my path."
"Twenty-one years, minus two weeks or so," Ardan started, staring blankly into space, "that long it is since my innocence was stolen away. When he sent for me for the second time, I'd decided to kill myself, but the night before, the guards set Seymour on fire. He was eleven and in pain. Then, in the morning, they brought in Carlin. He was nine years old and forty pounds, soaking wet. He was crying and asking for his parents. It only took me a second to change my mind."
"Seymour? The guy in charge of The Base's supplies? And Carlin, the one who smiles all the time and is adored by all the children? Gaspard's husband, boyfriend, or whatever the two of them are to each other? You are talking about them?" Brennan's eyes widened, shock, and disbelief mixed on his face.
"As I said, it's all about the decisions you make," Ardan continued, ignoring the other one's questions and his reactions. "So yeah, I'm a whore, I served as a sex toy for those men, and, if I had to choose my path in life again, it would be the same. Let me be the one who lives in shame, head hanging low, as long as the innocent are spared. Let me cry bloody, bitter tears and scream in pain, as long as they giggle and smile."
"Still, I can't...I mean, you were thirteen. Where did all that strength and endurance come from?" Brennan asked in a thick voice, the emotions he was experiencing threatening to overwhelm him.
"I don't know. What I do know for sure is that you would have done the same, had you be given a choice." A small smile played on Ardan's face. "And now, you'll have to excuse me. I have to go to Daniel."
He wanted to caress Brennan's short, blond-brownish strands, but instead, curled his fingers one by one, an unreadable expression in the strange, turquoise eyes. The man got to his feet, the blond child wrapped in his loving, protective embrace, and headed to the mansion,
disappearing inside.
Only after Ardan was entirely out of sight, did Brennan realize the real dimension of what had happened there, on that patch of tall, silky grass. All the bravery he foolishly paraded out there meant nothing compared to the immense sacrifice of the man who'd so calmly and softly spoke to him, telling that horror story only that it wasn't a story, but a piece of him, real, tangible.
By calling him a filthy whore, he did to Ardan the same thing Fabian had done to him over the last four years, Brennan thought, shame washing over him. Unlike the blond man with the warm, soft voice, he'd never tried to look past those labels. Never. Not once. Back in juvie, he only kicked and fought when he was attacked, but had never defended others, weaker and more helpless than him.
It was the same at the lab; he'd acted in the same selfish, disgusting way. Brennan balled his hands into fists, barely containing the urge to punch himself in the face. He heard the other boys' desperate pleas and blood-curdling screams, saw the ugly scars marring their pale bodies, had witnessed some of the horrors they were subjected to, and had done nothing.
He had not one, but two opportunities to escape and went alone each time. He could at least have opened the other cages on his way out but chose not to. So much for his stepfather's teachings about being generous and helping those in need, Brennan thought, disgusted with himself. But everything happens for a reason, and that was the message of the dreams.
The man scrambled to his feet, raised his head, and straightened his back. There was still time to redeem himself, he thought, heading to the mansion. There were always people to protect and ways to make the wrongdoings right. He had work tonight.
The house was accurate as Julien had described it, grey and unwelcoming, but with a manicured lawn in front of it. Most likely, Brennan thought the parents were away on business most of the time, and they paid someone to take care of the job. The four cars chaotically parked on the driveway screamed luxury, and he didn't doubt that the owners were some rich, spoiled brats, like those living in that imposing edifice.