Into The Light

by Wolfe, H. M.

  "Hey, don't worry, I'm not mad at you or anything. I'm always here when you want to yell at someone," the man said, caressing the kid's soft, slightly curled hair. Now, go to sleep. Otherwise, you'll be tired tomorrow at the test."

  Alasdair nodded, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Leon plopped down on the edge of the bed, thinking about what the teenager just said. So, he had problems at school, after all, as the man suspected from the start. Probably because of his humble social status that contrasted so much with his brilliant mind.

  The rich, entitled, spoiled brats who were his classmates must have been very embarrassed that someone like Alasdair was the best student in the class, in spite of their daddies' substantial donations. Unable to compete with the kid, they most likely bullied him, trying to bring him down.

  Well, it was about time for him to let Alasdair know that he had the financial means which would allow him to pursue his dream of going to college and studying to become a doctor. Also, Leon decided to tell the kid not to be afraid anymore of being discovered and kicked out of the house, as it belonged to them.

  Some weeks earlier, the man talked to a lawyer, one Mallory Ashburn, working for one of the high profile law offices downtown. The guy had helped Leon with all the necessary paperwork, took care of every detail, and, to the man's great surprise, he didn't charge him a single cent for all the work.

  Breaking the trail of his thoughts, Leon checked his watch. It was more than an hour until his shift started, but he decided to go anyway. The man liked his second job, almost all the people he worked with, the manager included, were decent, treating him with respect. There was, however, one Leon couldn't stand, an asshole named Gary.

  He seemed to find great pleasure in chasing away the homeless folks who tried to shelter between the three large dumpsters in the back of the club. They were a pest, not good for the business, Leon agreed with that, but, while he and his co-workers just ushered those people away, Gary hit and kicked them, sometimes very hard. The manager had even warned him a few times to go easy on the folks, or else he was going to get fired, but the man just grinned.

  When Leon arrived at the club, thirty minutes before his shift started, he was greeted by Tim, a tall, hunky, bearded man, who was the first friend he'd made there. He gave the newly-arrived man a bear hug, then headed into the locker room to take off his uniform and put on his street clothes.

  ”How was work today? Anything out of the ordinary?” Leon asked, putting his uniform on.

  "No, the usual stuff, you know, The occasional drunk customers who flirt too much with Mia, the foxy bartender and pretty much nothing else. Oh, now that I think of it, there was something," Tim said after a moment, an expression of displeasure on his face.

  "What? I bet it was that bastard, Gary, again," Leon spat between his teeth. "He is nothing but trouble, should have been fired a long time ago."

  ”I agree with you on that, my friend,” Tim replied in an equally angry voice. ”And the guess was correct, he kicked the shit out of a poor guy,” the man sighed.

  "A customer or a homeless?" Leon asked because he and his co-workers didn't hesitate to rough up the troublemakers once in a while.

  "The second version," Tim answered. This time, he was only a kid, pale and skinny, asking for help. He begged Gary to contact his mother, but the motherfucker beat him instead.

  ”A kid?” Leon flinched. ”Where is he now? Is he still here, still alive?”

  "Yeah, the little pesky thing is still there, near the dumpsters, like the garbage he is," stated an unpleasant voice. Judging by the reactions of the two men in the locker room, it belonged to Gary. "Hey, Leon, don't worry, man, he's not dead, you could take a look if you want to."

  Giving Tim a look, he went outside to check if the homeless boy was still there. He searched around the dumpsters, but there was no one to see, so Leon decided to go back inside when a barely audible whimper of pain stopped him in his track. Going in the direction the weak noise came from, he stumbled across a mass of rags and bruised flesh.

  The person Tim described as a pale and skinny kid didn't seem to be much older than Alasdair, probably in his late teens. Moving as slowly as he could, Leon crouched down, cupping the boy's head and gently raising it, gasping in shock when he saw his face.

  It was full of bruises and little cuts, some of them recent, probably put there by Gary's heavy combat boots, but others were days, even weeks old. He must have been a gorgeous boy once, Leon thought, pain constricting his chest. He still was, with that perfectly shaped face, full lips and long, thick, black, eyelashes.

  Tears were streaming from the boy's closed eyes, leaving streaks on his pale cheeks. After an intense, but short internal debate, Leon made up his mind. He would take the kid home and raise him, as he was doing with Alasdair. There was plenty of money for both of them to get a college education and everything else the two of them may need.

  With this thought in mind, Leon went straight into the manager's office and asked for two days off, explaining the whole situation. The boss gladly approved, even gave the bouncer three days off, happy to get that problem, as he called the poor boy in the alley, off his hands.

  Once he settled the matter, Leon went back to the locker room where, to his great relief, he still found Tim. The two men stepped outside the club, heading to the dumpsters area, where the kid was in the same position Leon had left him. Helped by Tim, he wrapped his jacket around the boy's thin upper body, putting him in the back seat of his car.

  Saying goodbye to his co-worker and thanking him for the help, the man got behind the wheel, driving back home. Once there, he took the sleeping or fainted boy into his arms and carried him inside the house as silently as possible. Surprisingly, Alasdair was in the kitchen, a cup of tea in hand and a textbook in front of him.

  "Oh, my!" he exclaimed, seeing the pale form in Leon's arms. "Where did you find this guy, what's wrong with him?"

  "In the back of the club, behind the dumpsters. That bastard Gary beat the hell out of him. Listen, would you mind staying with him for a little bit, while I run a hot bath?" Leon said in a soft voice.

  "Not at all. I could even remove him out of these rags and run a routine check, to see if there are any broken bones or anything like that," Alasdair offered.

  Nodding, Leon went to the bathroom, collecting everything he needed and gathering the items in one place, requiring them at arm's reach. In the meantime, the redhead took the other kid's clothes off, gasping in horror at the sight of his bruised and tortured body. Sensing Alasdair's hands touching him, the boy opened his eyes, and his lips started to move.

  "Please, don't hurt me. I'll do anything you want, but don't call Carter. I'll be a good boy for you," he said, bringing his palms together in a pleading gesture.

  "Don't worry. You are safe with me," the redhead said with an assuring smile. "I'm Alasdair, what's your name?"

  "E...Ezra", the kid said, in a still shaky voice. "Wh... who's that man?" he asked, looking frightened in the door's direction and pointing to Leon who just stood there.

  He was unable to take a step further, staring shocked into the boy's intense, sapphire blue eyes, disbelief written across his face. "Who's this one belong to?" the man asked himself. "Come on, kid, let's get you bathed," he said softly.

  ”Ezra. His name is Ezra,” Alasdair felt the need to inform the man. Then, he helped the boy to his feet, taking him to the bathroom.

  He was thoroughly bathed, rinsed, dried, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie generously provided by the redhead. With a bowl of warm, soup in his stomach, Ezra was now fast asleep in the spare bedroom upstairs.

  "What are you going to do about him?" Alasdair asked Leon, looking straight into his eyes. "He doesn't have anyone or anywhere to go to," he whispered, lowering his head.

  ”Tim mentioned something about Ezra begging Gary to get in contact with his mother,” the man said with a thoughtful expression.

  "And what if you don't find an
yone?" Alasdair raised the head again, hope shining in his beautiful green eyes.

  "Well, then... I guess you will get yourself an older brother, kiddo", Leon answered, caressing the redhead's strands.

  CHAPTER 25

  "So, let me know if I get it straight, great-uncle," Liam started, still under the impression of the surprise, the news Alastair brought produced. "Uncle Benjamin married this Martin Randall guy, who supposedly was the love of his life, divorced him a couple of years later, married the lady who called you, fathered a child, divorced again and then vanished into thin air?!" The redhead shook his head in disbelief.

  "I know that this doesn't make much of a sense," Alastair calmly spoke, "but then again, Benjamin was the rebel of the family. And no, he didn't vanish into thin air, he is probably out there, somewhere, doing only God knows what. When he left, your uncle made me promise that I would never, under any circumstance, try to get in touch with him."

  "Anyway, I think the main question here is why didn't Miss Selma Redmayne want to reveal the existence of the boy, Uncle Benjamin's son, until now? Why didn't she give him the choice of meeting the family from his paternal side?" Daniel was frustrated and somehow angry at the woman's actions.

  "The thing is," Martin Cornelius spoke in his usually calm voice, "a cousin of ours is somewhere on the streets, scared and alone, with no one to turn to, or worse, locked up in some basement, held prisoner by some sadistic fuck. We have to do something, can't leave him like that," he finished, looking around the room, at all the people gathered there.

  "It would be nice to have a point to start from," Tarquin also intervened. "What exactly did the boy's mother tell you? I'm sorry, I didn't get his name," the blond continued, looking intently at Alastair.

  "Ezra, that's his name, sorry about not mentioning it earlier," the former head of the CIA smiled apologetically. "Well, according to Selma, he was in his freshman year of college. He was studying to become a journalist, when this older guy appeared in his life, making him fall madly in love. At some point, Ezra told her that he would be gone for the weekend, with the boyfriend. No one could contact him after that," Alastair sighed heavily.

  "Great-uncle," Daniel spoke again, "did Miss Selma mention the name of the boyfriend? Because I suspect he is not a stranger to our cousin's disappearance."

  "Yes, she did," Alastair answered immediately, "Selma said his name was Carter and that he was a psychologist or psychiatrist."

  Right then, Rayne came out from Hayden and Arnett's room, intending to go downstairs and inform Daniel that everything was all right with the boys. However, after hearing Alastair's voice, the doctor stopped, deciding to listen to their conversation for a while.

  He wasn't interested in the subject but wanted to see how Daniel behaved in the presence of his almighty great-uncle. The opportunity presented itself sooner than Rayne anticipated, under the form of a beeping phone, that turned out to belong to Tarquin.

  "Sorry, I have to go," the blond said, kissing Daniel on the cheek. "I'll see what I can find out about your cousin. I have a strong feeling that all these stories are interconnected," he added, walking through the mansion's front door.

  "Where is Tarquin going?" Alastair asked after the blond climbed on his motorcycle, and disappearing.

  ”To meet Swinton,” Daniel answered concisely.

  The former Supreme Dragon frowned. "Why would he do that? I thought that everything ended in the courtroom," he continued in a disapproving voice.

  Upstairs, Rayne tensed, waiting for Daniel's answer, that came almost instantly. "Swinton is free. It was Tarquin's idea, and I supported him as any good husband should." The man's voice was cold as stone.

  Anger exploded inside Alastair, making him lose control. "Call Tarquin and tell him to send Swinton back to prison, where he belongs. Now!" he yelled, taking Daniel's phone from his pocket and forcefully pushing it into his nephew's hand.

  Calmly, the raven-haired man put the phone back into his pocket, shooting daggers at Alastair. "With all due respect, great-uncle, you are in no position to give me orders, and Tarquin is no longer a child, in case you haven't noticed. He's a grown man, one who won't be ordered around. Subject closed."

  Hearing Daniel, speaking like that, defying the man who tried to control his life, questioning his decisions, provoked a storm of emotions inside Rayne. He didn't know what to believe anymore, especially when he witnessed the raven-haired man defending his husband with such a fierce passion.

  Should he trust Daniel Bloom, telling him everything about the experiments, and how everything happened? Would baring his soul in front of the man be a wise decision or one with catastrophic consequences? Rayne wasn't afraid for himself or his safety, not as long as Gerrard was sheltered, living a good life.

  Eventually, the doctor decided to leave the things as they were, at least for the time being. The scene from earlier, he thought, wasn't relevant enough to determine a change of plans. Maybe Stark disagreed with Daniel choosing the blond as a husband from the start, and he didn't lose any opportunity to criticize his actions.

  With this idea in mind, Rayne went back into the boys' room instead of going downstairs, like he initially intended. He couldn't face the old bastard who got his poor mother pregnant and rejected her. He just couldn't. Not yet, anyway.

  Meantime, Christine also arrived at the mansion, back from Eugene's, where she’d spent some time in Donna Rosa's company. Instead of taking the car, she decided to walk, so no one noticed her coming. When she was about to open the large door, Martin Cornelius' voice made her stop.

  "My parents are going to be here in a day or two," the young man's calm voice broke the heavy silence in the living room.

  "Oh, they are?" Daniel said, with a wide grin on his face. "Well, cousin, what can I say... it's about time."

  "I spoke with Fabian on the phone the other day," Alastair coldly spoke, shooting daggers in Daniel's direction, "and he didn't inform me about his and Adele's intention of visiting New York. Any special occasion?" he continued, turning to the other Bloom nephew.

  ”Yes, Martin Cornelius here is getting married, and his parents are coming to meet his future bride,” Liam blurted out.

  ”Is it true?” Alastair asked in the affectionate tone he used when speaking to his nephews and niece.

  "Yes, great-uncle," the young man in question answered, blushing and lowering his head. "She's a great girl. I was thrilled when she accepted me with all the good and the bad."

  "I'm glad to hear that, because you are a great boy, too, Martin Cornelius," Alastair said, going to his nephew and hugging him. "Your happiness and well being are essential to me," he added, looking in Daniel's direction, "that's why I reacted earlier the way I did. I exaggerated, and I would like you to forgive me if you can."

  "Of course I do, sir, but you, like all the others, have to be aware that Tarquin is a man entirely capable of defending himself if the situation requires. As for me, I'll always support his choices and decisions, no matter what others may think or say about it."

  At this point, although she was brokenhearted at the news of Martin Cornelius' impending marriage, Christine decided to go inside and congratulate him. Of course, she was going to have to avoid him after that. He belonged to another woman — one who would share his bed and carry his children. The girl fought hard to keep the tears from spilling because she would have given anything to be in that woman's place.

  "Wow, look who's here, Christine Malone herself!" Liam greeted her from the door. "Where is that cousin of mine? He needs to welcome you properly."

  "What about you behaving like a gentleman, my dear nephew, and let the young lady be? Alastair playfully admonished him. "You must be Elliott and Mallory's friend? I've heard many great things about you, but never had the pleasure to meet you in person," he added, shaking her hand. A bright smile appeared on Alastair's face at the sight of the bracelet.

  ”Yo, Martin Cornelius, what are you doing, bro?” Liam shouted to his cousin who c
ame back from the library. ”Christine is here!”

  At the mention of the girl's name, the young man's face brightened, a broad smile forming on his lips. "Hello," he said, hugging her to his chest and inhaling the intoxicating scent she emanated.

  "Hello yourself," Christine answered, confused by the man's behavior, who clung to her as a little kid would do to his mother. She wondered if Martin Cornelius hadn't been forced, like so many, into a marriage of convenience.

  "I'm glad you came, I have something to tell you," the man spoke, looking in her warm, hazel eyes with his deep blue ones. "My parents will be here in a couple of days, and they want to meet you." He looked at her expectantly, all tense while waiting for the answer.

  "I don't know what to say," Christine softly spoke while running her fingers through Martin Cornelius' pitch black hair. "I would like to meet your parents. To get to know them, but they are here to see your future wife, not me. Sorry for eavesdropping, but..."