by Wolfe, H. M.
Meantime, Eugene slid off of the couch, one of his knees to the floor. Unwrapping his arms around Elliott's waist, he pulled a jewelry box from the pocket of his dress pants and opened it while starting to speak.
”Elliott, you are my love, my ray of sunshine on a gloomy sky, my hope, the man I want to raise children with and in whose company I want to spend the rest of my days, the one I will never grow tired of. Will you be my husband?”
The whole time Eugene spoke, the blond looked into his eyes, and all he could see was an immense love and burning passion. He couldn't get enough of the sound of his lover's voice, that wrapped him like a warm blanket, making him feel safe, wanted and valued. When Eugene asked the question, Elliott looked him straight in the eyes, nodding.
”Yes,” he said, ”I want to marry you, to stay by your side until we are both old and gray, and even after that. I want to wake up every morning next to you, to breathe the same air you breathe, to watch over our children together.”
"Excuse me, did I arrive too late?" a shy voice said from somewhere in the crowd, making everyone turn their heads in that direction.
"Mister Van Sloot, what a nice surprise!" Elliott stood up, going to the man and giving him a warm handshake. "I'm so glad you could make it! Guess what, my beloved Eugene just proposed to me, and I said yes!"
”Excuse me, sir,” Daniel said, his face pale and eyes widened, ”did I understand correctly? Is your name Van Sloot?”
"Yes," Elliott confirmed, "this gentleman is none other than my invaluable assistant at the office. I invited him to join us today, unaware that... Daniel, what's wrong?"
But the raven-haired man wasn't listening to him anymore. Instead, he kept repeating the assistant's name, tears streaming down his face. In less than a blink of an eye, Joraan went to his son, taking him in his arms, keeping him from falling to the ground. He gently touched the pitch black strands, whispering reassuring words in Daniel's ear, just like he did when the man was only a small child.
"It's all right, daddy's back, now, and he's going to stay with you forever. I love you, little man," Joraan whispered through tears.
"Is it you? Someone, please tell me that I'm not hallucinating. That everything is not just a product of my imagination, that..." Daniel abruptly stopped, sobs racking through his body.
"You are not hallucinating, son, the man holding you is Joraan Van Sloot, my nephew Sebastian's beloved husband and your adoptive father," Alastair spoke gently. "I only found out a couple of weeks ago, and it took me a lot of courage to pay him a visit."
"But... I still don't understand," Daniel frowned, without disentangling from his father's embrace, "what took so long? Why didn't you let me know that you were alive, that..."
Joraan rubbed his son's back, then let him go. "As soon as I got back on my feet, about six months after the accident, I started to look for you, but the information I came across was contradictory, one dead end after another. About a year after I completely recovered, the doctor who took care of me, and her family moved from the small town in Montana where they'd lived up until then, all the way to Seattle."
"Then, what happened? What made you stop the searches altogether? Or didn't you?" Daniel insisted, wanting to get to the bottom of things, once and for all.
"I did, I looked for you harder than ever. I even found out where you'd been held prisoner. With the little money I had, I put together a rescue party, searched for a house to move into with you, but then..."
"Then you heard about the fire at the lab, didn't you?" Eugene spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "And that Daniel didn't survive it," he continued.
Casting his eyes down, young Brentano was overwhelmed by guilt at the thought that, instead of helping his friend, the fire he set back then complicated everything. He remembered how many sleepless nights he'd spent, calculating everything, taking everything into account, only to fail miserably.
Of course, Eugene managed to get his hands on compromising evidence, to free many of the boys held captive by the twisted-minded scientist and his accomplices, but he wasn't able to set his friend free, and that had eaten him alive for many years.
"Eugene, stop it, please, don't blame yourself for what happened," Daniel patted his friend of the shoulder. "It was meant to happen like that," he continued, finally realizing what mattered.
”Are you my granddad?” a tiny voice asked, startling Joraan, who looked around for its source.
"Yes, he is, my handsome prince," Daniel smiled, picking a young, blond boy from the floor and taking him in his arms. "This is Lochlin," he said, without further introduction.
"I'm Joraan, but I would be honored if you would call me granddad, little one," the redhead smiled, caressing the child's rebel curls.
"And you may call me Sir Chatalot, like Uncle Elliott," the boy replied, making everybody laugh.
That day was for celebration, not only of the two engagements, between Martin Cornelius and Christine and that of Eugene with Elliott. Rayne had things to celebrate, too, not just the reunion with his son, but also the beginning of the reconciliation with Alastair. As for Daniel, his father coming back to life reminded him, once again, that miracles happen. Would it be possible to...?
**********
Leon was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, a letter in his hand and numerous others scattered everywhere in the room. As the man read, his vision became blurred from the tears that threatened to spill any moment. That letter, as most of the others, told the story of friendship and camaraderie between one petty officer and his superior.
The petty officer's name was Derek Stanley, Leon's father, a strong, confident, handsome man, as his son remembered him. Member of one of the famous undercover ops elite units, where only the best ascended, the then-corporal Stanley was captured by the enemy, who'd been informed by a mole about the imminent attack.
When the men had abandoned any hope that they would be liberated a courageous major with a handful of soldiers rescued them all, Leon's father was seriously injured, and the major carried him all the way to the helicopter. The name of the brave officer who risked his own life to save the corporal was Alastair Stark.
Ever since the two men had shared a special bond, fighting side by side, rescuing each other. They were there for each other at the most critical moments of their lives. Both of them committed acts of bravery, were awarded medals and promotions. As the story unfolded, Leon began to wonder how the box, which was found by Ezra while he was cleaning the attic, got there in the first place.
There were only two possible explanations; he thought: either his greedy aunt, the half-sister of his mother took it, and that meant he was currently living in her house, or it was there all the time. If so, he and the boys were living in what was once his childhood home.
Leon never stopped wondering, after he was sentenced to fight in the ring, why he remembered so little from the pre-Julianna period and, the more he thought, the clearer the picture became. Just like Liam, Julianna had drugged him with that goddamn toxin, day after day, year after year.
That explained why Francis' teachings about non-violent ways of solving conflicts echoed in his mind from the start. Leon's need to change, to become a better man, was almost an urge. Like being decent was his true nature, lying dormant inside the beast the drug turned had him into.
The man sighed heavily, shifting his position so that he could pick another letter. But, a little more than a quarter into it, his vision blurred, so he decided to call it a day. Carefully folding the already read letters, Leon placed them at the bottom of the box, putting the ones he hadn't taken out of the envelopes on top of them.
In his room, Ezra shifted in bed, unable to sleep, like he did every night for the past few days. He felt cornered and lost for the first time since he'd been there, under Leon's protection, with no one to turn to. The young man let out a long sigh, wishing he could unsee what he’d seen, but knew that was impossible.
Living with the kind man and his mouthy, bu
t very intelligent and caring protege made Ezra realize the enormous difference between that warm environment and the oppressive atmosphere at home. So, after a week, he talked to Leon, explaining to him the situation and asking if he could stay there for good.
Everything went well, Ezra had all the space he needed, and slowly he got back on his feet. As a way to repay the kindness the man and the teen showed him, the young man offered to do the cooking and cleaning, much to Alasdair's enthusiasm. Everything went well, until that fateful day when Ezra saw the bruises on the kid's neck, arms, and torso.
The first time the raven-haired teen confronted the redhead, the kid denied everything, but then he tearfully admitted the abuse, stubbornly refusing to reveal the identity of the aggressor. More than that, Alasdair swore Ezra into secrecy, forbidding him to talk to Leon about the incident.
However, the kid decided, after an internal struggle spanning over several days, that keeping such a secret from Leon would equal with sentencing Alasdair to death. He left his bedroom, but, before walking into the man's room, Ezra decided to go to the kitchen, to get a bottle of water.
Here, with a mug filled with tea in one hand, sat Leon, who felt something was wrong from the second his eyes landed on the young man's face and saw the troubled look in his eyes.
"What's wrong, you having a hard time sleeping too?" he asked, smiling warmly.
"We have to talk," Ezra blurted out. "I think Alasdair is being abused."
CHAPTER 32
”What?!” Leon almost dropped the mug from his hand. ”What do you mean by that? Alasdair, abused, how?” the man said, unable to form a coherent sentence.
Ezra plopped down on a chair. "I saw it with my own eyes — not the abuse, but the evidence of it. Large bruised areas on his torso and arms, he even had a nasty one on the neck, as if someone tried to strangle him," the young man whispered.
"When was that?" Leon's voice had an edge to it. His protective instincts were kicking in and bringing to the surface a tiny piece of the beast he once was.
"A couple of weeks ago, maybe less. I didn't confront him on the spot, I was afraid he would be scared and would run away or would do something stupid like that. People, especially kids, could react very badly in situations like this. I know, I've been there," Ezra said, his eyes empty.
Leon stood up, went to the teen and took him in his arms. "You were very brave, a survivor, and now everything's over. You are safe, and so is Alasdair, as soon as we get to the bottom of this. It's only my fault. I shouldn't have let things degenerate like that."
"Um... there's one thing I forgot to tell you about," Ezra said, clearing his throat. "When I finally confronted Alasdair, he admitted someone hit him, but refused to tell me who. More than that, he made me promise that I wouldn't talk to you about that. So, if you ask him straight out..."
”He is going to realize that it was you who told me,” Leon finished the sentence. ”I have my suspicions about who the assailant is, and I will bring the matter to an end in a very diplomatic fashion,” he assured Ezra.
"You know who does that to Alasdair?!" The young man's eyes widened from shock. "Why didn't you do anything about it, then?"
Leon shook his head. "All I had were some vague suspicions and, as you pointed out, I couldn't interrogate the kid based on them. It's the bastard from the grocery where Alasdair works part-time but no work for him starting tomorrow, it's over," he said in a firm voice.
"Well, good luck with that, you have all my sympathy in advance, because you're going to need it when the resident redhead starts to scream your ears off about his college funds and so on. Not that he's not right, especially since I am a burden from more than one point of view."
Saying that Ezra lowered his head, hugging his own gaunt form. Leon looked at him, his heart breaking for the poor kid. Inhaling sharply, the man decided to finally reveal the good news, hoping to lift the weight from Ezra's soul and make him smile again. He also valued the young man's opinion, another reason why Leon wanted to share those things with him.
"You are not a burden, in any way, and I mean it. Since you came here, Alasdair has had more time to study, because you took the cooking, cleaning and other chores upon yourself. It also gave me time to take care of...other things," he said, looking in Ezra's dark blue eyes.
"What other things? Like, illegal stuff?" the kid asked, his voice sounded scared. He suddenly realized that, although Leon had quit both his jobs to take care of him after they took him in, there was plenty of money for everything.
"No, don't worry. I'm not a fool anymore," the man answered in a reassuring voice. "Some time ago, I did terrible things and hurt a lot of people, but those days are over now. The things I mentioned earlier are as legal as they can be. I'm going to adopt Alasdair officially."
"Wow, that's great news!" Ezra walked to Leon, hugging him. "You are a great guy. Alasdair will be so glad when he finds out! Of course, this won't spare you from him yelling at you regarding his college fund," the young man added in an amused voice.
"I don't think so," Leon answered. "You see, there's enough money for Alasdair to go to any college he wants, with or without a scholarship. I also set up a fund for you, to use it as you see fit. The house is in my name, and it will go to Alasdair if something happens to me. The rest of the money..."
"Wa...wait! How much money is that? And how did you get it?" Ezra asked, making efforts to mask the uneasiness in his voice.
Leon admonished himself mentally, realizing that he should start with the beginning, gradually preparing the kid for the most challenging part of the story. But that was it, and all the man could hope was that he would be able to straighten up things, by explaining everything properly.
"One million dollars," he said in a low voice. "I inherited it from a man who saw me as worthy to be redeemed. All I have to do is to find this guy Cesare Fenelli, or Brentano, and ask him to revenge the guy's brother's death."
"And that's it? Just find this Cesare, tell him to revenge some dude's dead brother, and then walk away into the sunset? And why has the man two identities? Who's he, Fenelli or Brentano?" Ezra's voice was shaking, his eyes filled with fear.
"Fenelli was his mother's maiden name, and Brentano, Francis suspected, was the name of his biological father. It's nothing dangerous. I have to find the guy and deliver the message, that's all."
"I...I trust you. It's the others I don't trust. All the people who could harm you, those from your past..." The tears pooling in Ezra's eyes threatened to spill every second.
"It will be all right. Everything will be just fine, I promise," Leon left his seat again, taking the kid in his arms and rubbing his back. "Let's go to sleep, buddy, it's late, and tomorrow it's going to be a long, complicated day," he said.
In the morning, the man woke up way ahead of the two boys and left to meet Mallory Ashburn, the lawyer who'd helped him with all the paperwork for the house and adoption, without charging him a single cent. Leon liked the guy very much, not only as a professional but also as a person, meeting with him was always a pleasure.
This time was no different, the two men parting ways in the best of terms. With all the spaces in the law office's parking lot taken, Leon couldn't find a nearby spot to park his car, but that didn't bother him at all. On the contrary, he used the walk from where his vehicle was parked to plan his next move: looking for the Fenelli or Brentano guy.
”Can somebody help me, please?” The voice of a teenager, laced with desperation, stopped Leon in his track. ”Liam, are you there?” the voice continued.
"Oh, sorry for not seeing you earlier," he apologized, when realized that the voice was coming from someone who'd fallen to the ground and was frantically searching for something. "Is this what you are looking for?" Leon asked, picking a white walking stick from the ground and putting it into the young man's hand.
"My stick! Thank you so much, without it I'm so lost. As usual, I trusted my instincts too much, went ahead and..." He went silent, as Leon gently
dusted his jacket.
"Are you alright?" the warm, deep, incredibly sexy voice asked, sending pleasant tingles all over his body. "I'm Leon Stanley, who are you?"
”Dar-Dar, you scared the shit out of me, again!” a redhead spoke, breathing heavily, as he headed to the two of them. ”What happened? Did you stumble and fall again?” he asked worriedly.
"I'm alright, thanks to Leon here," the kid smiled the most beautiful smile Leon had ever seen.
"Liam Stark, nice to meet you, and I mean it," the redhead said, taking the other man's hand and shaking it vigorously.
Liam. Stark. The two words hit Leon like sharp, heavy stones, and, for a moment, he wished he was invisible. The man desperately prayed not to be recognized by the redhead, because, if he was…