by Wolfe, H. M.
Hayden came out of the room, abruptly stopping Daniel's train of thought. The boy looked much better than he had when he went inside the room, he thought, examining his kid brother's face. Relief, relaxation and a tinge of sadness were the emotions Sebastian's older son could notice in Hayden's expression.
"How's your friend? Any signs of improvement? Is he still in pain?" Tarquin asked, his voice worried.
”Yes, he is much better now,” the answer came. ”He wants to talk to you,” the boy added, looking at the blond.
”Are you sure your friend wants to talk to me, and not to Daniel? Maybe this is what he meant when he...”
"I am, positively sure," Hayden cut Tarquin short. "You see, he doesn't like or trust strangers, but when I told him how you put Lytton and his minions in their place, and when I mentioned you being an FBI agent, he insisted on talking to you."
"OK, then, let's go inside," Daniel said, leaving the chair.
Just when the two husbands were about to enter the hospital room, two young men walked down the corridor, between the two lines of guards, heading straight to them. Both of them hugged the two husbands tightly, then they went next to Hayden, giving him warm, welcoming looks.
”Thanks for joining us, guys, and sorry for ruining your Saturday plans,” Daniel turned to the two newly arrived men. “Say hello to my little brother. Hayden, these are our cousins, Martin Cornelius and Liam.”
"Hi, kiddo, nice to meet you, I'm Liam, and I have the feeling you and me are going to be good friends. In spite of what your grumpy older brother may tell you, there's a lot of cool stuff you could learn from me."
"Don't you ever, ever listen to him. Otherwise, you could end up in big trouble," the other young man, who looked so much like Daniel, playfully warned him.
"OK, little brother, now, that you know the crazy side of the family, it's time for me and Tarquin to talk to your friend if he didn't change his mind," Sebastian's older son said, lightly touching his younger brother's cheek.
When Daniel turned the light on, Arnett blinked a few times rapidly, trying to adjust to the new situation, but he didn't dare ask the man to turn it off. He started to shift uncomfortably, pulling the blankets up to his chin. Then, the boy took a look at the blond young man, deciding he could trust him.
The other one, though, with his soul-piercing, dark-blue eyes, gave the boy chills down his spine, until he realized the man was Hayden's older brother. Letting out a heavy sigh, Arnett drew his legs to his chest, hugging them tightly. Then, he closed his eyes, waiting for the two men to ask him anything they would want to know. The boy was ready as he could be for that moment, probably the most important of his life.
CHAPTER 11
Daniel pulled one of the two chairs in the room over, bringing it as close to the bed as he could. The young man sat, then started to examine the kid on the hospital bed. Judging by his exposed arms, he was pretty well-built, maybe a little on the lean side. His light-brown hair hung in long strands over the shoulders, in dire need of a cut, as Daniel noticed, smiling.
There was not much else to see of Arnett, tightened into a ball, legs hugged to his chest as he was. The boy's chin rested on his knees, eyes tightly shut. Most likely, the young man thought, the kid was making significant efforts to stay calm, to not show the two of them how scared he was. Tentatively, Daniel lightly touched Arnett's back, causing him to flinch.
"Relax, little one. We are here to help you. I am Hayden's brother, and this is my husband, FBI special agent Tarquin Bloom-Ballard," he gently spoke, continuing to massage the boy's back.
At the mentioning of Tarquin's name and rank, the kid raised his head. "I'm Arnett," he said in a flat voice. "Ask me anything, I will answer honestly."
"Are you all right, Arnett? Do you think you could handle this, in your state?" Daniel asked, worriedly. "Doctor Stuyvesant, the doctor who examined you, said that the wounds healed remarkably well. I was relieved to hear that, especially since your chances of survival were so slim." Saying that the young man mysteriously smiled.
"I ain't stupid," the boy spoke in a hostile voice. "I didn't go to school, but I recognize a trap when I see one. I'll answer any question related to Hayden or Miss Shannon, and that's all."
Daniel lowered his head, realizing how intrusive his question might seem, and probably it was so. "I am sorry, Arnett, I am. You can keep your secrets. I'm never going to bother you again. Promise."
From where he stood, Tarquin could see the boy's expression and, judging by it, he wasn't entirely comfortable in his husband's presence. After exchanging glances with the young Bloom, he took the lead.
"Tell us everything you remember, it doesn't have to be in a specific order," the blond gave Arnett an assuring smile. "We will protect you against anyone who would want to harm you."
"After we left our great-uncle Alastair's apartment, he messaged me, saying that Mister Grant mentioned a certain Sydney as being the one who tortured you. Is there anything we should know about him?" Daniel asked in the gentle, but firm voice Alastair used when he talked with him or his cousins.
Arnett huffed. "Sydney was a mean bastard, but in the grand scheme of things, he was just a pawn, maybe even less. They only used him to get to Miss Shannon and Hayden. From what I've heard, that guy Carter was the big bad boss. And there were also the Italian fellows." The boy stopped as if he would have waited to see the effect his words produced on the two men.
Indeed, the mentioning of Italians made Daniel flinch a little. ”What about the Italian fellows? Do you know who they were?”
After thinking intensely for a moment, Arnett nodded. "Once, when Sydney was wasted, he told Martha not to worry, he wouldn’t stain his hands with her sister's blood, he would let his Detroit Mafia friends do it." The boy balled his hands into fists, his beautiful green-brown eyes full of resentment.
"Why did the boss, that Carter guy, wanted Hayden's mother dead?" Daniel's curiosity increased, and his anger got stronger, with each new revelation of the boy.
"I already told you, it's a bigger, more complicated scheme. Once, I sneaked under Sydney's office window, peeking inside. There was no one in there, so I jumped into the room. There was a briefcase on the floor. I opened it and took a look inside." The boy stopped talking, hanging his head low in shame.
Tarquin sensed Arnett's internal turmoil, so he discreetly signaled to his husband to give the kid a break. Daniel nodded in understanding and started to rub soothing circles on the boy's back. Gradually, he relaxed, leaning into the touch and raising his head. The kid stared into the young Bloom's dark-blue eyes, still undecided if he should trust him or not.
However, the hesitation only took one moment, until Arnett noticed the remarkable resemblance between the man who tried to make him feel comfortable and his beloved. Hayden's brother would never reject or misjudge him. He would be supportive and understanding, the boy thought.
"There were a lot of papers in the briefcase," the kid continued his story. "Official documents, as far as I could tell, like birth records, contracts or something, and a lot of photos. Young guys' photos, attached to files that probably contained personal information of sorts. And there also was some kind of list, I think, with names." After blurting out everything in one go, the boy stopped.
Daniel lightly ran his fingertips through the teenager's long, light-brown strands. "We could take another break if you like. Just let me know if you feel tired or anything. I'll go out for a sec, to check on Hayden, OK?"
”OK, go ahead,” Arnett nodded. Tell your brother that...never mind.” A tinge of sadness shadowed his face.
"I’ll tell Hayden that you care about him, although I think he already knows. He will spend the night at our cousins' house," Daniel said gently.
While the older of the Bloom brothers went outside, the boy on the hospital bed debated if he should tell the young men that the list was in his possession. Also, he was thinking about whether he should reveal the other information. After a short, but intense in
ternal struggle, Arnett finally made up his mind.
"The list I saw in the briefcase," he started to talk as soon as Daniel came back into the room, closing the door behind him, "it's now in a safe place. I took it and hid it. Thought it was important."
The black-haired young man was startled by the revelation. "Where is it?" he asked in a low voice.
"Someone's keeping it for me," Arnett answered. "His name is Colin Rafferty, you can ask for him in the Irish section of the Bronx, he owns a pub named The Gambit there." The boy fell silent, studying Daniel's reaction.
"This Colin Rafferty fellow seems to be an interesting man," Tarquin remarked. "At least, his pub has quite an unusual name," the blond continued, a thoughtful expression on his face.
”I think he is the highest in their ranks, higher even than Carter. And I also think he is as good as he is dangerous,” Arnett said. ”Once, before Miss Shannon took me in, Colin caught Sydney hitting me and beat the bastard so bad that he stayed in the hospital for three straight weeks,” the kid added with satisfaction.
"He seems a great guy, if you ask me," Daniel grinned, "someone I would be honored to shake hands with. Get some rest, kiddo, I will send one of my men to pick up the list from your friend first thing in the morning."
”I will do that,” Arnett nodded. ”You two do the same. Thank you both for everything you are doing for Hayden,” the boy added in a grateful voice.
"As I said, both of you are very important to us all. I promise that you won't spend a single hour in jail, you are a good kid who deserves the best."
With those words, the two husbands left the hospital room, after giving Arnett a last warm hug for the day. During the almost one hour-long drive to the mansion, neither of them said anything, thinking about what they had just heard from Arnett.
First, Tarquin and Daniel would have to figure out what relevance the list had, and then, together with the guys from the team, they would have to find a way to alert Carter's potential targets before arresting him.
"I don't know about you, but I'm drained," Daniel suddenly broke the silence. "All I want is a hot, quick shower and a few hours of sleep."
"Same here," Tarquin approved. "However, I still have some energy left, so I'm up for other...activities if you are interested," he grinned.
"I am sorry, not this time. But I'm sure that there would be plenty of other opportunities," his husband regretfully turned down the offer.
”Of course, you know better,” the blond smirked.
Tarquin went straight into the master bedroom, while Daniel stayed downstairs for a little while, calling Eugene and checking on Hayden. After spending about an hour in Arnett's company, the kid was now at the apartment building, where his Stark cousins and the other guys from the team were holding a welcome party for him.
A small smile playing on his lips, Daniel headed to his and Tarquin's room, when the blond crossed his way. Wrapped in a black, long, silk robe, he was swaying his slim hips right under the black-haired man's nose, pretending not to see him.
It was too much for Daniel who extended a hand, wrapping it around his loved one's waist and stopping him in his track. Without giving Tarquin time to react, his husband pushed him against the wall, capturing his mouth in a hot, passionate kiss. No matter how hard the blond tried, it was Daniel who won the battle for dominance, greedily sucking his lover's lower lip and tongue.
Then, in a swift motion, the raven-haired shoved his man against the wall, peeled the robe off of him and pinned him with his hands above his head. For a moment, the two lovers got lost in each other's eyes, Daniel admiring the flawless perfection of Tarquin's body. Without a single word, the blond wrapped his legs and arms around his husband's waist and neck, needy whimpers escaping from his slightly parted lips.
Eyes darkening, Daniel closed the space between him and the man he loved so much. Spitting into his hand, he coated his cock and thrust two of his wet fingers into his husband’s hole after scissoring his fingers, and quickly stretching him, Daniel started to thrust into his hot cavern. With each new movement of his husband's hips, Tarquin was getting closer and closer to his personal heaven.
Smiling evilly, the raven-haired man pounded into the blond's tight ass even harder and deeper than before, nipping at his tender skin and leaving hickeys behind, all over his sensitive neck and chest. In response, his husband dug his heels deeper into his muscular back, starting to let out quiet moans of pleasure.
Sensing that Tarquin was already on the brink of orgasm, Daniel gave him the attention he deserved, grabbing and stroking his cock with one of his hands. Then, gently disentangling the blond's legs from around his waist, the young Bloom changed the angle, putting one of his husband's legs on his shoulder. Tarquin started to moan louder, tilting his head backward and rolling his eyes.
After a series of long, intense, rough thrusts, Daniel shot his load deep inside his husband, while the blond came hard between them, splattering their bellies and chests with cum. Entirely spent, Tarquin laid limp in his beloved's arms, who then carried him into the bathroom, gently putting him in the tub.
About half an hour later, the two men lay in bed, arms wrapped around each other, a warm smile spreading across their faces.
"Listen, Mister Ballard, if you ever pull a stunt like that again..." Daniel started, only to be interrupted by Tarquin, who placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
"You will do what?" the blond cast a knowing glance in his husband's direction, darting his tongue over his sinful, plump pink lips.
"I will punish you so badly, you won't be able to leave the house for an entire month," the young Bloom said in a low, husky voice.
"You could never hurt me, Daniel, and that is why I love you so damn much," Tarquin replied, losing himself into the dark pools of blue his lover's eyes were.
"I love you more than life, my angel," Daniel answered, hugging the blond closer to him.
**********
"It's not good, Carter, not good at all! Our associates are very unhappy with your activity, or the lack of it, to be more specific," the man spoke, discontent noticeable in his voice. "They are about to lose what little patience they still have, and I can't blame them."
"Come on, father, when have I ever disappointed you? I need some more time, that's all," a man in his early to mid-thirties replied nonchalantly. "As for those arrogant bastards, they better be patient and trust us like before. After all, it is you and me who do the hard work and put money into their pockets, not the other way around," the man named Carter concluded, irritated.
"I must admit you are right, at least on this one. However, you are starting to get too sloppy, son, and that won't do us any good," the older man said, in a considerably softer voice.
"Sloppy? What do you mean by that? Everything is going according to plan, father, and I have things under control." The younger man smiled. "You always said that I get my intelligence from you."
"Flattering me won't get you anywhere, son, you should know that by now," Carter's father warned him. "Why isn't Jeremy V. Grant dead by now? Why is his heir still out there, somewhere, instead of being in your custody? And, above all, why isn't the list containing the name of our targets back in your possession?"
When he heard his father mentioning the list, Carter became tense. The old man was right, leaving the briefcase in Sydney's office, even if for a short while, was an act of inexcusable negligence on his part. After he realized the list was no longer with the other documents, Carter interrogated the lowlife, who vehemently denied the accusations.
Sydney suggested asking Arnett, the half-brained kid living with Hayden, their target, and his mother, one of the obstacles in the way of his plans. He didn't know to read or write and, if the list were in his possession, the retard would turn it over to them. But the waste of space denied it, in spite of Sydney roughing him up.
Carter sighed in frustration. Getting back the list was his number one priority; otherwise, the entire operation would be compromised. On to
p of that, the fucking retard at the racehorse farm took down seven of the ten armed men their Mafia friends sent to kill the bitch and the old stockbroker. Seven seasoned assassins eliminated by a kid with a gun. How the hell was that even possible?
No matter how good of a psychiatrist he was, Carter couldn't hide from his father, the man knew him better than he knew himself. At the age of sixty-one, Isaac Williamson was one of the most respectable estate planning lawyers from Boston. His dark-brown hair was cut short, the white strands appearing here and there giving him an air of distinction.
Well fit for his age, Isaac Williamson didn't spare any expense when it came to clothes. The most famous designers created his suits, the impressive number of shirts he had were all hand-made, the accessories were of the most exceptional quality. But the luxurious lifestyle the Boston lawyer was accustomed to drained his considerable resources in no time. So, instead of giving it up, he made his wealthy clients pay for it.