The Darkest Hour Before Dawn

by H M Wolfe

  "After more than seven years of widowhood, it was about time Godfrey took a new bride; his associates had decided, twisting his hand into marrying the only daughter of a prominent Chicago Irish Mafia boss. After initially opposing the idea, the man agreed, and Caleb was born a year later, at the cost of his mother's life. The newborn needed a parent, so his father didn't spend too much time mourning his wife, focused as he became on raising him."

  Godfrey MacNamara was a clever man, Brennan thought, smiling inwardly. He was already legally married to his deceased wife's sister and knew that the marriage with the hotshot mobster's daughter wasn't valid. By entering it, he'd only bought the necessary time to strengthen his position as a leader. With those thoughts in mind, the young man turned all his attention to Tarquin's story

  "Years later," the blond continued, "when he got the information about Ardan being alive in New York, Godfrey took his youngest son with him. Currently, Caleb worked for the new special team as their forensic expert, together with Erling and Avery. The three of them also had a side business; they cleaned the streets of garbage."

  "Something is telling me that this side business involved sending Phil's daddy dearest to Hades," Brennan smirked.

  "You are correct." Daniel nodded, a smile appearing in his until then sadness-clouded eyes. "It seems that taking care of the innocent and eliminating the monsters who harm them runs in your family. Speaking of, I have a huge favor to ask you," the man continued, his look saddened again.

  "Anything for you," Brennan's answer came almost instantly. "I owe you more than you'll ever know. This house is where I found my brother and made my first real friends."

  "You sound so much like Ardan," Daniel remarked, "the same gentle, soft voice that reaches into the kids' hearts, winning their trust and affection. Will you please talk to Jeroen, the white-haired boy who is good friends with our sons and your nephews?"

  "Oh, that one." A radiant smile started to spread on Brennan's face. "I like him a lot, he's the protective type, especially around Cian and the triplets. Quiet, reserved, a little stern, even, but always there when the others need him. That kid is a lot like you, in more than one way." He turned to Daniel.

  "That's because he's my son," the man said in a slightly melancholic voice. "The second one I conceived in the lab. About seventeen years ago, I was shot multiple times and lost my memories from the shock. The only thing I could remember being my name. A few months ago, I started to have weird dreams about the time I was at the lab, and not very long ago, I remembered."

  "It does make sense; Jeroen's birth date is set during the period you spent at the lab." Brennan nodded in agreement. "It's too big of a coincidence. However, I have to warn you, convincing him that you are the one who gave birth to him is going to be harder than it seems. He's convinced that his carrier didn't survive, and has had enough of being manipulated and lied to by his guardian."

  "That's exactly why I need you to smooth the way," Daniel said in an almost pleading voice. "You have the liberty to tell him anything you consider relevant from my story, to convince him."

  "I'll do so, fingers crossed he will believe me," Brennan said, nodding again, his voice laced with doubt. "No offense, but you Blooms can be pretty stubborn sometimes," he tried a joke, to ease up the tension from the atmosphere.

  Then he fell silent, but the little cogs inside his brain were spinning a thousand miles a minute. Most likely, he thought, good old Fabian intended to eliminate not only his siblings but their whole bloodline, then use Jeroen, the last of his name, to claim the Bloom estate, one of most significant in the world.

  Eyes tightly shut, Brennan prayed that the white-haired kid would want to talk to Daniel. More than that, he would have to believe the man's story and acknowledge him as his father, the only way to turn him against Fabian for good, which brought him back to his great dilemma: to reveal or not the identity of the deadly enemy lurking in the shadows.

  Damned if he did, damned if he didn't, the young man thought, sighing inwardly. In the end, the only way to solve that pressing problem would be to take care of it personally, once and for all. Only then could he be sure that the bastard wouldn't hurt anyone else.

  CHAPTER 25

  "B rennan!" The group of teens spotted the young man and ran to him. "By all the Gods, we thought you wouldn't make it. I'm so happy you are alive and well." Julien sighed, relieved, and content, hugging his protector.

  "I'm happy to be here, kiddies. I missed you all like crazy." Brennan opened his arms, letting himself disappear under the pile of kids hugging him. "Come on, I saved a piece of me for you, too," he said to Jeroen, who didn't join the others.

  "Hey, guys, make some room for this handsome fella here," Lorcan grinned, earning a playful glare from the white-haired, older boy. "What? I'm speaking the truth, and everyone agrees that you and Julien are the most beautiful of the bunch, and Cian is the cutest."

  "It's so good to be home!" Brennan exclaimed, once the collective hug ended and the group dissipated. "What's everyone been up to?"

  "Pater is still recovering, he was very affected by what happened to you, spent days on end at your bedside. He was tense all the time and only calmed down when my...um...mate assured him that you'd live to know your own true love. Thorvald knows this kind of thing; he saved Cian's life." Affection and gratitude mixed in Lorcan's voice when he talked about his boyfriend.

  "I'm here to stay, kiddos. The Base is my home now, and you are my family, by blood and choice." Brennan looked around him, caressing the teens' faces with his turquoise, gentle eyes. "I'm going to take care of each and every one of you, and I'll tell you my secrets. And I expect you to do the same."

  "You bet I will." Julien threw himself in the young man's arms again, which closed protectively around his slender form. "You are the greatest, most supportive friend I've ever had, except this crazy bunch here."

  "I need you to promise me one thing. All of you," Brennan spoke in a thick, low, but firm voice. "No matter how tight our bond is, you also have to talk to your parents about things that bother you. Before or after I take care of the problem, but you have to do it. Keeping them out of your life will create a rift between you, and believe me, that's the last thing you or they want."

  The kids murmured in approval, except Jeroen, who remained somewhat isolated from the rest of the group. Brennan couldn't miss the melancholic expression on the boy's face every time the words fathers, parents, or family were mentioned. Although he was blending well into the crowd, at the end of the day, the white-haired teen was alone, the product of a horrible experiment, with no family whatsoever.

  Examining Jeroen's face, Brennan wondered how the boy would react when Daniel told him about the bond the two of them shared. Would the eighteen-year-old throw himself into the man's arms, melting into the warm, paternal embrace, or would he reject the one who gave birth to him, preferring to believe the lies he was fed? Bringing the two face to face was the only way to find out.

  "Do you have a spare minute." Brennan turned to the white-haired boy, who stood there, waiting, as if he knew about the other one's intentions. "I would like to talk to you."

  "Sure, why not." Jeroen shrugged. "I have nothing better to do, anyway," he said, then covered his mouth. "That sounded...mean."

  "And sadly, true, but we will continue our little talk in Ardan's office. No one will interrupt us there." Brennan pointed in the building's direction. They walked the distance in silence, and, ten minutes later, they were inside the room from where The Base was coordinated. "Sit down." The man indicated a chair.

  "What do you want to talk about?" Jeroen slowly shifted in the chair, feeling a bit uneasy.

  "What do you think about Emery, Lochlin, and Julien? I've watched you interact a couple of times, the four of you seem to get along very well." Brennan tried not to sound too interested.

  "They are pretty cool. Very smart, and always ready to help. Not the most talkative of the bunch, and even when they do talk, it's mostl
y amongst themselves. But I guess it's natural, considering the tight bond they share." Jeroen shrugged again. A gesture meant to hide his loneliness.

  "I see." Brennan nodded, his heart aching for the white-haired kid. "What about the triplets' parents? You were at their house a couple of times; they should have made an impression by now..."

  "I like them. Mister Ballard seems kind and nurturing; Mister Bloom is the protective type. They're probably normal, loving fathers, from what I noticed. I grew up in a foster home of sorts, raised by a man who constantly refused to tell me who my parents were or if I have any living relatives. The only one who showed me affection was your brother, but he has his own children, so...What's the point of this conversation, anyway?"

  "Daniel Bloom wants to talk to you, face to face, whenever you have some time. He asked me to talk to you first, didn't know what your reaction might be. Will you consider his invitation to the mansion?"

  "Sure, why not?" Jeroen's answer came in the same flat voice he used since the beginning of the conversation. "Although I don't see what the two of us could talk about." The kid fought the urge to hug himself.

  "You'd be surprised to discover how many things the two of you have in common." Brennan mysteriously smiled. "I'll call Daniel and tell him you agreed. He'll be thrilled."

  Jeroen nodded, then turned around and left the office, shoulders slumped, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. Alone in the room, Ardan's brother slowly shook his head, sadness overtaking him, as he replayed the conversation from minutes earlier in his head, frame by frame, remembering the kid's small gestures that gave away his profound loneliness.

  Brennan wondered if the knowledge that he was the product of a sick experiment had any impact on Jeroen's behavior, and how much it affected him. Or maybe, he thought, the kid's reserved attitude was the result of the oppressive environment he'd been raised in. With Fabian, anything was possible, but if the pathetic excuse of a human being harmed that boy in any way...Brennan would take care of it.

  Brennan headed to the office's door and opened it, but, lost in his thoughts as he was, the man failed to notice Peyton, who was ready to come inside, so the two of them bumped into each other. Ardan's brother noticed that his good friend looked different, in a not-so-good way, their calm, tender smile replaced by a worried, saddened expression.

  "Can we... Um...go inside, please? It won't take long, I promise. In fact, it might be very brief, because I doubt you will want to talk to me again after what I'm going to tell you."

  "Peyton, what's wrong? What happened to you?" Brennan didn't make any efforts to hide the concern in his voice. "You don't look very well." He hugged his best friend, carefully examining their face.

  "First of all, I want you to know; I'm delighted that you are alive and well. Also, I jumped with joy when Alasdair told me you are Ardan's brother. Except for that crazy redhead and Gaspard, Landon, and Carlin's lover, you were my best and closest friend, and I'll always treasure the moments we spent together."

  "Why are you using the past tense when speaking about our friendship?" Brennan's voice sounded pained, matching the expression in his beautiful, turquoise eyes. "You are still my best friend, and will be like that forever; nothing is going to change that."

  "My brother hurt you a lot, and most likely, my father did too. I'm Conroy Winters's son, Gabriel's and Philip's half-brother," Peyton said, in the same resigned, broken voice from earlier. "You would have found out sooner or later, and I wanted it to be me, the one who told you."

  "No," Brennan said, taking the other one's hands between his own, "you don't have anything to do with those two bastards. For me, you'll always be my exceptional, they friend," he tried a joke, fighting back the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks.

  "Do you really mean that?" Peyton's kind eyes were shining with newfound hope. "Of course, you mean it, for a second I forgot whose brother you are." They smiled shyly, sighing in relief. However, the defeated expression came back after only a few moments.

  "There is something more, isn't it? Something that eats you on the inside," Brennan looked straight into his friend's eyes. "Spit it out. Whatever it is, together we'll find a way out, I promise you."

  "A couple of weeks ago, right after the attack that put you and Ardan in a hospital bed, Ezra started to get some disturbing messages. At first, my husband ignored them, but in the end, he was triggered, and now..." Peyton stared ahead, unable to continue.

  "I always wanted to ask, but now is the perfect moment," Brennan said in a gentle, comforting voice, "what exactly is Ezra's job about? What does he do in Washington?"

  "He is the coordinator of the President Danvers's press staff, and rumors are my husband is also the choice of the President to be his next campaign coordinator."

  Suddenly, Brennan felt weak in the knees. Fabian's excessive, obsessive greed made sense. He wasn't only after the family's money, his main goal was to reach absolute power, and the family's fortune played an essential role in the grand scheme. He was going to support an obscure independent candidate, apparently without any chance, but who was going to become the acting President's primary opponent.

  Fabian would stay into the shadows and rule from there, shaping the country's politics for the next four, eight, or possibly more years. The guy was diabolical, intelligent and patient like that, Brennan had to give him credit for that. In the meantime, the bastard would eliminate anyone he considered an obstacle: his nephews, siblings, uncle, even his son.

  "Don't worry, my friend," Brennan spoke in a reassuring voice, looking straight into Peyton's eyes, "everything will be fine. I will personally take care of the bastard sending those messages, and I'll track him down and bury him alive. As for Ezra, he'll come around in no time and kick ass even harder than before. He's Daniel's cousin, and those Bloom boys are built to last."

  "If you say so." The signature shy smile played on Peyton's lips again, brightening their beautiful face.

  Chapter 26

  "I 'd like to have a word with you." Lothier put a hand on Brennan's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "Now, if you please," the man continued, his tone demanding.

  "Today's the day when everybody wants a piece of me," the younger man tried to joke. "That's the price one has to pay for popularity."

  "You may be the boss's little brother and everyone else's favorite, but I still don't like you," Lothier spoke harshly, giving the younger man a hard stare. "I have the feeling you are the knife that one day is going to stab through Ardan's loving and trusting heart. You are a man of many secrets, and if one or more of them are going to hurt the boss..."

  "Most likely, you have your secrets, too, like everyone else," Brennan calmly replied. "Yes, I am hiding things which, if exposed, would tear my brother's marriage apart and would make him lose friends and allies. I have to go to places and take care of things, so, unless you are going to help me, carrying half of my burden, I suggest to get the hell out of my way."

  "What kind of things?" Lothier blocked the young man's way. "You don't know, Alasdair and your brother. There's nothing in the world that could intrude between them, the bond they share is unbreakable," he spoke passionately.

  "There are secrets so powerful they could destroy even the most solid and harmonious relationship." Brennan shook his head. "So for the last time: are you helping me or not? I don't like you any more than you like me, but you are devoted to Ardan, and I trust you will do anything to protect him."

  "You bet I will," Lothier's voice softened considerably. "Now tell me, what do I have to do? I'm all in."

  "For now, keep an eye on the kids and Peyton," Brennan answered, frowning. "It would be great if you have someone you can trust to help you with that. I wouldn't be surprised if the bastard managed to plant his men inside The Base. I'll go and pay him a visit; maybe I can force a confession from him. I think that, once I have the irrefutable evidence of his machinations, the bastard will have no other choice than to admit them."

  "You still haven
't told me the name of the bastard who's trying to mess with the boss and the ones he loves," Lothier insisted. "Look, I understand if you don't trust me completely; after all, I treated you like an asshole. Tell me what you got and see if I can guess who the fucker is."

  Brennan nodded, gesturing to his car. Once the two of them were inside, he started to tell the older man about the period he spent at the juvenile detention center, unjustly accused of murdering his mother and uncle. Then, a very high-ranking official signed his transfer to the lab of horrors, where he spent another two years, pumped up with drugs designed to turn him into the perfect soldier.

  One day, a man came, took Brennan out of there, and started to train him in the fine art of killing people and making it look like accidents. That man kept repeating to the then-kid that he was nothing but a blood-thirsty monster, who didn't deserve love. The teenager believed that man and obeyed him, eliminating his enemies one by one. That was until the day he met a special someone with a pure soul, who saw him worthy of his friendship and love.

  Eyes brimming with tears, Brennan recalled the moment Daniel said he trusted him. From then on, the young man started to see past the lies his so-called boss had piled on his head. When he confronted the man, that manipulative bastard laughed in his face.

  "He told me no one would believe my story, because his siblings adored him, and the head of the family would do anything to keep their reputation intact. The devil was right; Ardan confirmed everything."

  "Wait a minute." Lothier frowned, an expression of intense concentration on his face. "This fellow was and still is hellbent on harming Daniel? This other sick fuck Philip may be his accomplice? So Gabriel was going to get hurt, too, and now Ezra is being threatened, too? You're right, and no one would believe that Fabian Bloom wants to harm his family." He shook his head.