Into The Light

by Wolfe, H. M.

  "In here," Colin said through the opened door, thinking that it was Elias, bringing the twins home. "Oh, it's you," he said, somehow disappointed, looking at Vincent who stood in the doorway. "Come in, and close the door behind you."

  The man did as he was told then sat down on one of the chairs across the desk. "Look, Colin, I'm here to apologize for earlier, maybe I overreacted. The thing is, I still see us together, but..."

  "But on your terms, or isn't that what you were about to say? Well, I'm not interested in that kind of relationship. Not now, not ever," the bar owner said in a dull tone.

  "Colin, listen to me," Vincent pleaded, "I wanted you from the first second we kissed. I felt you were the soulmate I thought I would never meet again. I still feel and think the same way, but it won't work if others keep interfering in our lives, telling us what we should or shouldn't do".

  Leaving his seat, Colin went to the other side of the desk, leaning over Vincent. With a seductive, yet dangerous smile, he ran both his hands over the other man's jacket "You say you want to be with me, but never show it. Never do something in that direction. Well, it's about time to teach you a lesson, don't you think?"

  Hands, clenching the jacket, Colin suddenly pulled Vincent to his feet. He started to kiss him urgently, heatedly, passionately, dominating him with every fiber of his body. Surprised by the bar owner's actions, the other man started to struggle, trying to free himself from the strong arms holding him captive.

  Putting both his hands on Colin's chest, Vincent tried to push him off, with no success whatsoever. Eventually, he succumbed to the fire the kiss spread inside him, responding with the same passion. Taking it as encouragement, Colin stripped Vincent out of his jacket, sliding his cool hands on the man's heated skin, under his shirt.

  Without breaking the fiercely passionate kiss, the bar owner undid the belt of Vincent's pants, unzipping them and yanking them down to his ankles, along with his underwear. Then, Colin freed his cock from the confinement of his jeans and boxers, coating it with lube from a little bottle he retrieved from a corner of the desk.

  Vincent stopped the fight altogether, hypnotized by the two blue pools of darkness that were Colin's eyes. He knew what was about to happen, but was unable to react in any way. He was a rag doll in the other man's hands. Chuckling darkly, the bar owner turned Vincent around, bending him over the desk. He pushed himself into the other man, without prep, and started to piston furiously into him. Vincent's howls of pain soon turned into moans of pleasure.

  However, after a few deep, long thrusts, Colin changed the pace, moving slow and gentle. It was like his body remembered Vincent and decided to act by itself, treating the man underneath with love and care. Sensing the change of rhythm, Vincent started to move his hips, meeting Colin's thrusts, becoming one with the alpha male on top of him.

  Alpha male...At that point, Vincent didn't see him as such anymore. The anger and fury vanished in thin air, replaced with tenderness. Colin started to place butterfly kisses on his lover's back. He soon licked and sucked his way up Vincent's neck, marking him, whispering words of love and comfort into his ear and taking care of his needs.

  They came simultaneously, their cries of victory reverberating through the room. Drained to the last drop of energy, the two men let themselves fall on the carpeted floor. There they laid for a good while, lost in the other's embrace and eyes. Using the pad of his thumb to trace the contour of Vincent's face, Colin gave him a look filled with love and guilt at the same time.

  "Will you ever forgive me?" he asked in a shaky voice. "Because I don't think I could. My behavior was inexcusable. I was a brute, I almost..."

  "No, don't do this to yourself, Colin, don't think like that. I reacted to the kiss, and that encouraged you to continue. I could have told you to stop, and you'd have listened to me, I know you would," Vincent smiled gently while running his fingers through the other man's short, raven-black strands.

  Colin propped his head on one elbow, resting the other hand on his lover's chest. "One of my friends was forced by his fiancee to sleep with him, in spite of being virgin and underage. I almost did the same thing to you."

  "No, you didn't." After being silent for a minute, Vincent spoke again in a pain-filled voice. "I had a friend who experienced the same horrible thing. I made the bastard pay by taking his pathetic life," he smiled ferociously.

  ”Good. I hope he suffered,” Colin returned the smile. ”What did you do to him, by the way?”

  "Burned the motherfucker alive in his car and watched him from afar. I hope he burns in hell for the rest of eternity." Vincent's voice was cold as stone as he said the words.

  ”I would like to spend some more time in your company, right here, on the floor, half naked, but the kids will be home soon, so...”

  Colin was cut short by the beep of Vincent's phone, who checked the caller ID, frowning when he saw the name on the screen.

  "Hello, Daniel, what's wrong? How do I know? So, something is wrong, after all. What?! Are they all right now? I'll be there as soon as I can. Yes, I'll drive safely, of course. See you."

  "What is it?" Colin asked, instinctively feeling worried, and uneasiness was pouring into him. He also had the nagging sensation something very wrong had happened, especially when he heard the name of Daniel, the young man he'd become strangely attached to.

  "Hayden and Arnett were shot and wounded. A doctor who was there when the shooting happened treated them. According to the doctor, they are stable now," Vincent let out a long sigh of relief.

  "Take care of you and let me know if you or the boys need anything," Colin said while helping the other man into his jacket.

  Through the bar's window, he watched Vincent get into the car and leave, then resumed the afternoon routine. But, no matter how hard the man tried to distract himself from the thoughts wandering through his head, they kept coming back.

  Sebastian's presence was stronger than ever as if his best friend was trying desperately to tell him something, To point him in a specific direction. As if that wasn't enough, every time Colin heard Vincent mentioning Daniel's name, he thought about the son he felt he had, the one who'd died. The bar owner knew the boy had died. Otherwise, he would have appeared by now, wouldn't he?

  These thoughts and others like them continued to keep him company for the rest of the day and most of the evening. Even late that night, when he finally fell asleep, Colin dreamed of Sebastian and his Vincent being finally reunited, happy in each other's arms.

  **********

  Alastair smiled as he waited for Mallory in what became one of his favorite places in the city, a discreet, elegantly decorated, cozy cafe. Initially, the two of them should have come together, but the young lawyer messaged him some minutes earlier, saying he would be late by about half an hour.

  In a way, Alastair was grateful for the delay, because it allowed him to analyze the evolution of the relationship he and Mallory had built over the past few weeks. Seeing the adoration in the young man's eyes when he looked at the former CIA director was very flattering, it made him feel young again.

  On the other hand, Alastair couldn't stop wondering if he was good enough for Mallory, who was young enough to be his son. Of course, the lawyer needed guidance, mentor-ship, understanding, and affection, all of these generously provided by Alastair. Only Mallory fell hard for him, opening up completely, in a way the former Supreme Dragon hadn't anticipated.

  Driving the young man away because of the age difference would be the same as crushing his heart, failing him in the worst possible ways. But he was an expert at that, Alastair thought bitterly. It wasn't only about Sebastian, but also his son, the fruit of a night of wild, unprotected sex when he was only sixteen.

  For three years straight, after being abandoned by the mother, whose religious family made her carry him, but also to give him away, Alastair struggled to raise the baby by himself. Eventually, he had to surrender him to social services, who almost immediately found him a home. Years late
r, encouraged by Sylvester, Alastair tried to get in touch with his son, to no avail.

  There was also, of course, the possibility of him having another child out there somewhere. One with that woman he'd slept with while his husband was in England on business. Crazy, unleashed, drunken, unprotected sex. When the woman confronted him, some months later, in the presence of Sylvester, Alastair denied ever seeing her. Now, after more than three decades, he still couldn't stop and wonder what if...

  "Sorry it took me so long, it was an emergency," Mallory said, taking a seat. His usually impeccably combed hair was disheveled, and he was in an apparent state of agitation.

  “What's wrong, my boy?" Alastair worriedly asked, when the beep of his phone cut him short. "Hello, Daniel," he smiled, only to frown the next second. "When was that? In what part of the city? Are the boys all right now?" he kept asking, with a look of dismay on his face.

  "What's happening?" it was Mallory's turn to ask, sensing the bad news he was bringing wasn't the only bad news for that day.

  "Hayden and Arnett were attacked today, not far from the high school where Daniel's brother goes. They..." The beep of the phone abruptly interrupted Alastair again. "Hello, Selma, long time no talk," he said after the caller introduced themselves, then started to listen, without saying anything, holding his breath. "We will find him, I promise, and he'll come back to you unharmed. Of course, I'll keep you posted, Selma, as soon as I have news."

  ”What happened?” Mallory asked, as soon as Alastair ended the call. ”Who was that?”

  The older man let out a long sigh. "Selma Redmayne, my nephew Benjamin's ex-wife. They had a son together, born after their divorce. His father did not know of him. The boy disappeared from home about two months ago, and no one's seen him since."

  Mallory frowned. "Elliott was also attacked today, but he is all right now, I went and talked to him, that's why I was late." His expression became thoughtful, as he continued to speak. "First the boys are attacked, then Elliott, and now you found out about your nephew's son disappearing... Something's wrong here, if you ask me."

  "I couldn't agree with you more," Alastair nodded, with a gloomy expression. "Well, if some bastards think they can pull a stunt like that without consequences, they are damn wrong about it. They better be prepared for a long, dirty war."

  "You will not fight alone," Mallory spoke with determination, taking Alastair's hand between his own, "because I am going to be by your side every step of the way."

  CHAPTER 24

  Carrying a grocery bag under each arm, the man headed straight to the seemingly abandoned structure at the end of the street. He walked on the cracked driveway, climbed the three squeaky steps to the unkempt porch and opened the front door, stepping in.

  From inside, the house looked much more welcoming, comfortable even. The walls freshly painted in a warm tone of beige the hardwood floor, was well maintained, the tiles in the hall also looked in good condition. A delicious smell of food came from the kitchen, making the man's nostrils flare and his mouth water.

  "I hope you took off your shoes? I just cleaned the tiles, and now I'm cooking dinner. There is no time to clean the tiles again because afterward, I'll have to study for my math test tomorrow. Which you don't care about, thinking I'm here to slave for you day in and day out," a kid's voice yelled from the kitchen.

  The man smiled, stepping inside, grocery bags in his arms. "Hello to you, too, kiddo," he said, ruffling the boy's fiery red hair, after putting the bags on the counter. "I was lucky today and thought to restock the fridge. How about that?"

  The teen gave the bags an indifferent look. ”Good,” he said, in a flat voice. ”Now, do you expect me to put them where they belong?”

  "No, I just..." the man didn't continue. He just started to empty the bags of their content, putting everything into the fridge and cupboards. "Here we go," he said.

  "Dinner's ready. Go wash your hands and let's eat." The teen's green eyes were darker than earlier, and he looked drained.

  "I'll be ready in a minute," the man nodded in understanding. Instead of going to the bathroom, he stopped in front of the kid, gently putting the hands on his shoulders. "What happened today at school, Alasdair? You know I'm here to listen to you, if..."

  "It's getting late, Leon, and I don't have time for things like this," the redhead replied, removing the man's hands from his shoulders. Of course, something happened at school, math test tomorrow, but you never listen, do you?"

  "Sorry," the man named Leon said, going to the bathroom. "I'll do the dishes tonight, so you can have more time to study," he added after coming back into the kitchen. And don't worry, you are going to pass that test with flying colors. There's no better student in that goddamn class."

  "Of course I will pass, and I know I am the best, but this doesn't mean I don't have to study," the teen said, smiling a little.

  After they finished eating, the kid went straight to his room, letting Leon do the dishwashing and cleaning up. While the man's hands were busy with the chores, his mind wandered to the green-eyed boy he shared the house with, who was like a little brother to him.

  Alasdair was a sweet, loving, intelligent, friendly kid, who dreamed about being a doctor. Unfortunately, he lacked financial means to support himself through college, because his homophobic bastard of an older brother, who was supposed to take care of the boy, had kicked him out of the house.

  Once he finished in the kitchen, Leon went to his room to lay down for a couple of hours, before starting work on his second job. He worked as a bouncer at a famous nightclub downtown, Bloom of the Night. However, he couldn't sleep, as his mind was still wandering to the time he and Alasdair met, and even before that, when he was Leonard Nixon.

  That horrible man was no more, he'd died in the cage, as he deserved, paying for every sin he committed. The punches, kicks, hits, and gouges, no matter how many, were not enough to pay for the pain and damage he'd caused. In the beginning, Leonard was furious, thinking he didn't deserve to be punished, hating everyone and wanting to kill every living soul.

  Then he met Francis, one of the most accomplished cage fighters. He could kill him a thousand times but, for some strange reason, decided to spare his life every time the two of them met in the ring. At some point, Francis took Leonard aside and had a long, heart-to-heart talk to him.

  The offer was simple. Freedom in one year, if he was going to change his ways. Of course, Julianna's adoptive son agreed, thinking that he would see a way out of the deal and win his freedom at the same time. But, spending every second in Francis' company made Leonard less and less willing to go back to his old ways.

  He became fascinated by the other man's complex personality. By the way he, with his gentle manners and sweet voice, managed to gain the respect of everyone. Without realizing, Leonard started to want to be like Francis, to have the same effect on people that he had. With every day that passed, imitating the man's behavior, he turned into a version less perfect of the man he admired.

  Francis renamed him, telling that Leonard, the little lion, had grown up, becoming Leon, lion. He appointed the reborn man as his heir, revealing to him the hideout where one million dollars in brand new banknotes, were kept.

  Before that, however, Francis made Leon promise that he would use the money to change his and someone else's life for the better. As a final act, he persuaded their manager to arrange a fight, the last one for Leon, between the two of them. Francis had let himself be killed, securing his friend's freedom.

  Then, when he took shelter for the night in a derelict house, the former cage fighter met Alasdair. A feisty little thing, who started to shoot daggers at him, literally. Seeing the scrawny silhouette of the kid, Leon knew that, from then on, he had a purpose in life, and so the adventure began. That occurred about a year earlier.

  ”Hey, Leon, are you going to work tonight?” the redhead asked, looking at the man through the open door.

  ”Yeah, why?” he answered lazily, dragging the wo
rds a little. ”Are you expecting company? A study group or something?” he asked, without any trace of malice in his voice.

  ”No, not this time,” the answer came almost instantly, in a very disappointed voice. ”On the contrary, I plan to go to sleep in about an hour, so please make sure all the doors are locked when you leave. Good night.”

  ”Good night, buddy, sleep tight,” Leon said, wrapping his arms around Alasdair and kissing him on the cheek and forehead.

  "Sorry about earlier," the kid whispered into the man's chest, "but sometimes, things are complicated even at my age, and... I know I shouldn't have yelled at you, but I cannot stop, it's the only way to let it all out. Soon school will be over for the summer, and there will be no yelling, promise." Alasdair raised his head, looking into Leon's eyes.