Into The Light

by Wolfe, H. M.

  ”Excuse me, what?” Christine asked, still under the impression of her daydreaming moment.

  "Who's captured your heart? I was asking you something two minutes ago, but you were busy daydreaming of one of the two. Or maybe it was another man? Sorry for assuming things," Eugene sincerely apologized.

  "I was thinking about your family, indeed," the young woman replied, "but not in the way you thought."

  ”Oh,” was everything the man said.

  "You are quite an interesting bunch because there are little to no similarities between you and the others. I mean, the only one who seems to be related are Elizabeth and the redhead. What's his name, again?"

  "Liam," came the answer. "You are right, I am not their relative by blood, but I see all of them like that. Nine years ago, another of their cousins, Daniel, saved my uncle's life and he adopted him. But the bond he and I share is tighter than that." Eugene had a melancholic look in his eyes as he finished the sentence.

  Christine looked at the man who was leaning against the counter, seeing him from an entirely different perspective. He was not a threat to her friend, as she initially thought, based on Elliott's reaction. Instead, Eugene Brentano was all about helping the blond, freeing him from his fears and insecurities, though his reasons remained unclear.

  ”Why are you so set on helping my friend?” Christine curiously asked, hoping to hear the real reason.

  "I have nothing to hide," the answer came. Eugene faced her, eyes vacant. "Have you ever watched someone dying, only three feet away from you? Have you ever felt helpless, because, in spite of knowing what to do to save their life, all you could do was hear their agonizing screams, to see how monsters inflicted wound after wound on their body?"

  Christine was utterly shocked. "When did… when did that happen?" she managed to ask in a shaky voice.

  Eugene inhaled sharply, trying to control the emotions roiling inside him. "Sixteen years ago. I was fourteen at the time, and he was fifteen. We were in love, and they made us both pay dearly for that crime." The man's look was troubled, his voice broken.

  The girl felt her chest constricting. Eugene's pain was almost tangible, so intense she almost felt it herself. "Your boyfriend's killers... were they convicted? I hope they are rotting in prison for the rest of their wretched lives!" Christine spat.

  "Oh, no. They are not in prison. The bastards are rotting six feet under." The man kept himself busy with the pot of soup and the pan with stew so the girl couldn't see the look in his eyes. However, something in his voice gave her cold chills.

  "So, you only want to help Elliott as a way to make up for not being able to save your boyfriend's life? Or do you have another reason?" Curiosity sparked in Christine's eyes as she waited for Eugene's answer.

  "I want him to be happy. He reminds me a lot of someone I admire and care about very much," the man smiled warmly. His sadness was suddenly gone.

  ”Do you also happen to love this special someone?” the girl winked knowingly.

  ”Yes, I love him, he is the younger brother I never had.”

  In the living room, the children were busy watching a documentary about the life of pelicans. After more than an hour of playing hide-and-seek in the yard with Mallory, the young boys were tired and a little hungry, so they waited for their uncle to finish cooking. The twins had started to miss Elliott, to whom they felt instantly connected so they couldn't wait for him to get up and join them at the table.

  Seeing how relaxed and quiet the children were, Mallory left his comfortable spot on the couch, heading to the kitchen. There, he was welcomed by the subtle aromas of soup, vegetable stew, and roasted meat.

  "Girlfriend, if I knew you could cook so well, I would have proposed to you ages ago," he said while helping Christine set the table.

  "Sorry to disappoint you, boyfriend," the girl smirked, "but all this is Eugene's doing, not mine. I wish I could cook half as good."

  "Well, someone will be fortunate someday," Mallory grinned, "our friend here makes perfect husband material."

  "You better tell that to Elliott, I bet he would be thrilled to find out," Christine replied.

  "The guy has my blessing, not that he would need it."

  ”What guy? Who are you talking about?” Mallory asked.

  "This one here. He's expressed his interest in Elliott, and I agreed."

  "Oh, really? And how is he going to do that? What does he know about our friend's needs? Christine, I thought you cared about Elliott." Disappointed, Mallory turned around, intending to leave the kitchen.

  "Wait! If you are so desperate for answers, why don't you ask the right person?" There was nothing provocative in Eugene's voice, so the younger man plopped down on a chair.

  "Speak, then. I'm all ears," he said.

  "I intend to be in control of everything regarding Elliott; his emotions, fears, state of health, needs. Of course, first I'll have to..."

  "Do you hear yourself talking, man? Controlling the most intelligent, caring human being I know? Over my dead body!"

  "Mallory, listen to me, please! Taking control of his life is not the same as controlling him. Elliott would be able to manage his finances by himself, to buy the things he would consider necessary. I also won't interfere in his professional life. He could make whatever decisions he would see fit. I was just about to say that, first and foremost, I would have to gain his trust."

  Meanwhile, in his room, Elliott finally managed to calm down, and he was back to his usual self. Not exactly typical, because he didn't dread going downstairs and facing his friends and their worried looks. On the contrary, it was like the blond was drawn there, he couldn't wait to join the others.

  Or maybe it was only one person he was fascinated by, the man with the crystalline blue eyes whose presence was assuring and threatening at the same time. Elliott couldn't see himself with another man, he knew what dreadful consequences his reckless behavior would have. The blond didn't doubt that one day, Carter would come to claim his possession, dragging him back into the ocean of despair and helplessness.

  Elliott went downstairs and was about to head into the kitchen when he heard Mallory speaking. His best friend must have been angry or troubled because he raised his voice at whoever his partner of conversation was.

  "And how exactly are you going to do that? Or is it classified information?"

  "No, it isn't. I have the feeling someone mistreated poor Elliott, to the point he can no longer tell the truth from lies, illusion from reality. I need your help to built a support network around him." The voice, authoritative and gentle at the same time, belonged to Eugene.

  ”A support network?” Christine said, somehow confused.

  "Yes. People Elliott could rely on when he felt threatened. People he could trust and open up to. Elizabeth is a psychologist and a woman. Liam is the best sniper in the city. Mickey and Aristarco would be honored to guard him. I could arrange for a professional chef to come and cook for him. And of course, there would be me."

  "What's your role in all this?" Mallory wanted to know, his defensive attitude gone.

  "I would be the one Elliott would leave all his worries and fears to, the one who would calm his mind, heal his broken spirit and keep him safe. I would kill and bury with my own two hands anyone who even thinks about harming him."

  Slowly, Elliott slid to the floor, back against the wall. Safe! The word echoed in the blond's head, giving him a state of euphoria he didn't want to end. A man, a stranger, was willing to fight with all he had to make him feel safe. For years, Elliott only thought of Carter as being the predator who tore him into little pieces, devouring them one by one. This time, instead of destroying the blond, the predator would bring him into the light, ripping Carter apart.

  CHAPTER 9

  "Do you…do you mean it? About letting Arnett live with you? At your house?" Hayden said in a shaky voice.

  "Of course he will live with us if the two of you are the good friends I think you are. Where else should the g
uy go, if he doesn't have anyone?" Daniel was surprised by his younger brother's words.

  "But... you are going to hit him? Beat him with the belt? Make him sleep on the cold floor? Because if you do, I'm not coming either."

  Daniel's eyes darkened. "OK, we are going to have a little talk, right here and now. Tell me everything I need to know about the poor soul. Where is he now? Who mistreats him? How old is he?"

  Vincent cleared his throat. "Look, Daniel, you shouldn't worry about Arnett, focus on Hayden. I will take care of everything. I have enough money to bail him out and get him the best lawyer in the city."

  "Wait a minute, is this Arnett guy in prison? What is he accused of? Excuse me, Mister Grant. But since the fellow is so important to my brother, anything related to him is very much my business,” Daniel replied, his voice laced with determination.

  "He wanted to keep mom alive. To protect her." Hayden raised his voice, looking straight into his brother's eyes.

  "So he attacked the one who killed her?" Sebastian's older son nodded. "I see. Don't worry, little brother. We will get your friend out of prison. We will make sure he never gets there in the first place."

  From where he sat, Vincent studied Daniel, making no effort to hide his interest. The young man, in spite of the remarkable physical resemblance with his father, had a completely different psychological structure. Determined, strong-willed, confident, independent, everything Sebastian would have wanted his son to become. However, he couldn't put Arnett's fate in the young man's hands, not when Alastair still influenced him, one way or another.

  "I appreciate your good intentions, Daniel, but you better not make promises you can't keep," Vincent shook his head, saddened. "Arnett will be charged as an adult, in spite of being only seventeen. Most likely, he will be sentenced for life, maybe more than one term."

  "Come on, Mister Grant, what could that kid do so bad to deserve something like that? Whose side are you on?" Daniel passionately spoke, his eyes darkening.

  "We will put together the best defensive team. No expense is to be spared. You don't have to worry about anything, Hayden," Tarquin suddenly spoke, smiling gently to his young brother-in-law.

  "I appreciate your good intentions, boys, I do, but I'm afraid you won't be very willing to get Arnett out of prison once I tell you that they are accusing him of killing seven men."

  "What?!" Daniel was the embodiment of disbelief. "A kid took down seven armed men? Is that what you are trying to say, Mister Grant?"

  "Yes," Vincent nodded. "He is now at the hospital, out of surgery, but the prognosis is not good at all. Arnett may not survive," the man said, turning to Hayden. "I am sorry, my boy."

  "Nobody dies, Mister Grant, not on my watch, and certainly not on Daniel's," Tarquin spoke in the same voice as earlier. "What hospital is the boy in?"

  "Angels of Mercy," the answer came right away. "It's a little clinic on..."

  ”Thank you, sir, I know the place,” the blond replied, quickly tapping on his phone.

  Alastair stared in awe at Tarquin, his heart swelling with pride as he watched how collected the young man was, how promptly he acted. Then, the former Supreme Dragon turned his attention to Hayden, studying him. The kid looked very tired and sad, but that was understandable, given the loss he had experienced. But there was something else in his eyes, something Alastair couldn't put his finger on.

  ”What did you do?” the kid asked Tarquin, as the blond turned off his phone with a long sigh of relief.

  "I activated a code," the young man smiled, caressing his brother-in-law’s hair. "From now on, Arnett is one of us, and we will do everything in our power to protect him."

  ”What about you?” Hayden turned to Daniel, locking eyes with him.

  ”What do you mean?”

  "Don't you hate us, me and Arnett? For barging into your life and complicating it?" The kid's eyes brimmed with tears, threatening to spill any moment.

  "You are my brother and that kid laying on a hospital bed is your best friend. End of story." Daniel's words were flat, but Hayden could feel all the love and gentleness in his voice.

  ”Hey, big boys, how about moving your asses and getting in the car? We are going to pay our hero a little visit.”

  ”What hero?” Hayden asked, a little bit confused.

  "Arnett, who else?" Daniel protectively wrapped an arm around his younger brother's shoulders, pulling him closer.

  ”But you need to notify the police hours in advance, and even then...”

  "Tarquin took care of everything, he is a brilliant guy," Daniel cut his younger brother short, patting his shoulder.

  "The three of you go ahead, I will stay a little longer to keep Alastair company unless he wants to kick me out," Vincent smiled to the small group.

  "Yes, my boys, go your way, my friend and me here still have a lot to catch up with," the former head of the CIA also spoke.

  The two older men spent some time in silence, lost in their thoughts, casting short glances to one another once in a while. Alastair wanted to ask Grant about Arnett, as everything about the kid's story intrigued him. Who was the one who had oppressed him? Why didn't he ask for help? How was it possible for a seventeen-year-old to kill seven armed men and so on.

  Vincent, on the other side, was still under the impression of Daniel's and his husband's presence. There were so many things the man wanted to ask about the two of them, but he doubted Alastair would answer them. In the end, Hayden's well being was the most important thing, and Vincent could rest, assured from now on because the kid's future was secured. There was, of course, the other matter.

  ”So, what do you think of the boys? Daniel and the delicate blond he is married to?” Alastair wanted to know.

  "Delicate blond?" Vincent raised his brow. "I don't remember seeing a delicate blond in this room. There was only Tarquin. Unless, of course, Sebastian's son is married to another man."

  "So you liked him, and I don't speak about Daniel," Alastair replied, a smile of satisfaction starting to form on his lips.

  ”Yes, I liked him a lot, those two are perfect together. I bet both of them are loving, protective fathers,” Vincent also smiled.

  ”They will extend the love and protectiveness over Hayden and Arnett. Not to mention the kids, who will be thrilled at the perspective of having another uncle. Two, actually.”

  "Look, Alastair, I don't expect them to treat the kid as one of their own. All I want is to give him warm food, a bed and some clothes on his back."

  "Vincent, be honest with me. What's wrong with Arnett?"

  The other man didn't answer. He just stared blankly into space. After a while, he started to speak. "I don't know, Stark, I wish I knew. That bastard Sydney treated him worse than an animal, but the kid never complained. Shannon pitied him, but he didn't seem to care, didn't seem to feel the pain."

  "Who was this Sydney guy? I don't remember you mentioning his name before," Alastair asked, frowning.

  "He is Shannon's brother-in-law and the owner of the neighboring farm, where Arnett lived. Sydney was a total bastard, I wanted to kill him a couple of times," Vincent grimaced as he spat the last words.

  "Brother-in-law? Hayden's mother was married after she gave birth to him?"

  "No, her sister was the lowlife's wife. Arnett appeared at their farm about five years ago, scared and almost naked. Sydney abused the poor kid from day one, never sent him to school, worked his bones off."

  "Why didn't you reported the bastard to the police and social services?" At the mentioning of the abuse, Alastair felt anger rising inside him, threatening to take over.

  ”Shannon wanted to, once. Sydney beat Arnett badly, and the wounds got infected. However, Arnett cried his heart out, asking her to change her mind. From then on, she took the boy to her farm, where he befriended Hayden.”

  "How close are the two of them?"

  Vincent had so much pain in his eyes that Alastair felt it like a punch in his stomach. He hated himself for asking that qu
estion, but the need to know was so strong, that he couldn't help it. However, the former Supreme Dragon also wanted to let the other man know that he was no longer the blind, insensitive bastard from three decades earlier.

  "Relax, Grant, I just want to know everything that is to know about the boys, that's all," Alastair warmly assured the other man.

  "Good, because if you try to break their hearts, to separate them as you did with me and Sebastian... so help me, Stark, I won't be merciful like I was a couple of years earlier. I will bury you so deep, you will never recover, especially now, that my poor lover is gone forever."

  "I give you my word. I will not try to interfere in their relationship if they have one. It's only that..." Alastair abruptly stopped speaking, a gentle smile playing on his lips.