by H. M. Wolfe
Roderick flinched before the image of a red-haired, green-eyed man with a piercing stare. His features had an innate distinction, common to Alastair and his sons, but that could also be noticed on Ramsay's and even Duncan's face. The same dignified, almost stern expression, with the warmth in the dark-green eyes, fully compensating for it.
Anthony's portrait had been done several years before his marriage with Zoe, a visible veil of sadness surrounding him. In spite of it, the man's soul, the emotions he kept inside, were perfectly captured on the canvas, making Roderick find a lot of similarities with his situation after losing Vivian, the mother of his three children.
''Santa and his elves will be coming in a few.'' Alastair's mild voice and soft smile made Roderick turn to him. ''The kiddies are a sight to behold around them.'' he gestured to one of the massive, arched windows.
''But...that one is Tarann!'' Duncan exclaimed, spotting his younger brother in the middle of a large group of children. ''And there's Tessie, too!''
''Most likely, the voice of the blood is bringing them together,'' Alastair spoke again. ''The little ones are related to your grandchildren, one way or another.'' he faced Roderick, who smiled in approval.
''The young blond man over there and the two redheads near him are real magnets for the kids,'' Ramsay commented, amused. ''Just look at the poor blond! He's almost disappeared under that pile of children.''
''Oh, that's Ardan. He's one of the noblest souls I have had the privilege to meet.'' Alastair.s eyes were shining, his voice thick with emotion. ''The one next to him is Alasdair, Tyler's son. There are no words to tell how proud I am of that young man.''
''Wait a minute!'' Ramsay exclaimed, pointing to the window. ''What's Raven doing here?!''
''O
h, that one over there?'' Alastair feigned ignorance. ''He's one of the FBI's top undercover agents, and I'm keeping him hidden here until after the danger he's in passes. Do you know the kid?'' he spoke in Ramsay's direction. ''The poor kid is a loner. I'd assumed he has no family or friends out there.''
''How...how did the two of you meet?'' Roderick asked, feeling his legs would give out at any minute. ''Can we go someplace where I could take a seat?''
''Of course.'' Alastair agreed, casting a discreet, worried glance in the younger man's direction. ''Let's go back to the library.''
''Dad, are you alright?'' Mattie stepped next to her father, offering her arm as a support, with Ramsay imitating his sister almost instantly.
''I'll be okay, as soon as I get to the bottom of this, and I'm counting on your help to do that.'' Roderick gave Alastair a pleading look.
''I'm going to tell you everything I know on the subject.'' the former CIA director started once they were comfortably seating into the library. ''A few days ago, Ardan asked me if he could bring Raven here because his cover was blown and his life was in serious danger. I don't know what case was assigned to him, but I'd guess it is human trafficking-related because that is his specialty.''
''Since when does Raven...since when did my son become active in this field? Do you have any idea?'' Roderick ran a hand through his hair, then slid it down over his face.
''You are not going to like my answer, brother.'' Alastair shook his head, sadness taking over his handsome face. ''Please leave it at that.''
''But I want to know.'' Roderick stubbornly insisted. ''I want to know what the extent of damage my inability to express what I felt that fateful moment, did to my poor son's soul. Please, brother?''
''Raven called the agent in charge of his kidnapping case the very night he came home. The discussion took place in the presence of a psychologist, and it was recorded. Judging by the kid's voice, he didn't care if he lived or died. My heart broke when I listened to it.'' Alastair lowered his head.
Roderick shut his eyes tight, wishing he'd never seen that goddamn video. He wanted to erase the images of Raven being whipped and beaten with the belt from his memory. The man wished he could unhear the boy's pleas for mercy and cries of pain, while the torturers kept hitting his pale, scarred body. He wished he would have told his wife and children about the video, preparing them for when their son and brother came home.
Instead, he played the hero, the tough guy, the one who could deal with everything by himself and using Elinor's heart condition as an excuse. Roderick hadn't hugged his younger son because he was afraid the boy would have been hurt, but it was his rejection of the physical comfort that had made Raven suffer. And then, there was the drug thing. At that point, Roderick's blood froze as a terrible suspicion started to arise in his mind and to grow to epic proportions.
''The drugs...'' he stuttered, looking into Alastair's eyes, ''the ones I found in my son's room...they were in fact...''
''Yes, you destroyed evidence in a federal case, and you were this close to being put on trial for it.'' the former CIA director gestured with his fingers. ''Only God knows how Raven managed to convince his superiors to drop the charges. Most likely, by accepting the assignments that posed the highest degree of risk.''
''I have to talk to him.'' Roderick articulated the words, after a great effort. ''I have to tell him everything and to apologize. No, not that, I have to beg for his forgiveness.'' he covered his eyes with his hands, unable to look at his son. He'd probably recognized the cars and was hugging a tall, muscular man who was offering him solace.
''No.'' Alastair gently said. ''Let him get used to you and him being under the same roof again. Give the two of you a little time. That's why I called you here before Christmas to give the magic a chance.'' he smiled through tears.
''So, you are a miracle worker, older brother?'' Roderick tried a smile, looking at his older children, who'd started to interact with Tyler, Rayne, and Ava. ''Because at least two of my three children could use a good one in their life right now.''
''I saw Tarann when you arrived and look at him now.'' Alastair pointed to the teen, ''He's laughing, such a joyous sound and surrounded by the children and with Kellin Braginsky following him everywhere. Liam is right, this place is magical for those in our family, and I hope your grandson can rediscover the unbounded freedom of expressing himself through painting.''
''Maybe you are right, brother.'' Roderick nodded. He decided to give the word a try, and it sounded right and natural. ''It's been a long day for me, is there a room where I can lay down a bit until dinner?''
''Of course, let me take you to your room.'' Alastair went ahead, taking the stairs. I'll send someone to get you twenty minutes before dinner.'' he said, opening the door. ''You'll have more than an hour to take a nap, watch TV, read or do whatever else you may want.''
''Thank you, brother.'' Roderick headed to the bed, laying down with a soft, gratitude-filled sigh. ''I'll see you at dinner, and I'll set the alarm for in an hour.''
He slid under the covers as soon as Alastair closed the door behind him, falling asleep almost instantly. However, the man woke up after only a few minutes, listening intently to the whispers coming from somewhere very close to his room. One of the voices, soft and defeated, belonged to Raven. He would've recognized it from a thousand others; the other one was raspy, but tender nonetheless.
Then, his son started to cry, and the sound pierced through Roderick's heart, tearing it apart. Carefully, the man got out of the bed, tiptoeing out the room and down the corridor. He stopped in front of the place where the sounds came from, peeking through the cracked door. The muscled man from earlier was sitting with his back against the headboard. He was hugging Raven, who was naked from the waist up and had his head buried in the other one's shoulder.
''Shhh, don't cry, little one. Seeing you like this breaks my heart.'' the man was stroking Roderick's son's long, red locks, and lightly kissing his forehead and temples.
''He detests me, Lothier. He can't stand the sight of me for more than ten minutes. My father rejected me that day; he thinks I'm dirty, stained, and a whore. He couldn't even touch me that day.'' Raven was saying between sobs. ''My father blames me for letting
myself get kidnapped, and he's probably right. Cause I couldn't fight more, I should have let them kill me, instead of...''
''Stop doing this to yourself!'' Lothier said in a stern voice, making the younger man raised his head. ''Please, calm down. I'll massage your shoulders and back, so you can relax and sleep a bit.'' he continued, taking a bottle from the nightstand.
''How is it?'' Raven asked, and Roderick suspected he was talking about his back and the scars those savage bastards had inflicted on him.
''Healing nicely.'' Lothier ran his palm over the whole surface. ''the skin is very smooth and soft to the touch. I'm so tempted to kiss you all over! May I?''
''Are you sure? I mean, I would understand if you had second thoughts.'' Raven's voice started to sound empty again.
Contrary to Alastair's advice, Roderick decided to take the decisive step, and talk to his son once and for all. It was about time to free him from his insecurities and fears to restore his confidence and self-esteem. This Christmas, he decided, was going to be one filled with joy, happiness, acceptance, and, above all, forgiveness.
But that was only after the big guy with a heart of gold would finish the ritual meant to heal Raven's hurting body and aching heart. He would politely ask the man to stay close, in case his youngest son would need him afterward. Maybe even assist in the discussion as moral support, Roderick decided. He had nothing to hide; after all, the man thought, softly knocking at the door several minutes later.
''Raven, can I talk to you for a moment? Your friend can stay, if you want and are more comfortable that way.'' the man peeked inside.
''Sure, come in, please.'' the young man said tiredly, tying his hair into a loose ponytail. ''I really appreciate you letting Lothier stay to assist in our little talk.''
''Son, I've been acting foolishly, and I understand if you don't want to talk to or see me ever again. But I did that because I didn't want you to suffer, or to hurt physically. When they emailed the ransom request, a video was also attached to the email, showing how you were beaten and tortured. I've kept everything hidden from your mother and siblings, and I was going to explain everything later that night.''
''"Yeah, but I'd already called Agent Collier and disappeared into the night. And then, it was the drug situation, that I should've informed you about, so we are even, I guess.'' Raven shrugged. ''Look, if you came to me looking for forgiveness, I never ever blamed you for anything. You were, and still, are, my father and I couldn't hate or resent you, no matter what.''
''I'm immensely proud of you.'' Roderick brushed a few rebel, long strands out of his son's eyes. ''And I think a million years wouldn't be long enough to tell you how much I'm sorry for wasting these past four years, and for hurting you as I did.''
''Dad, I need you to hug and hold me tight. I want you to squeeze me hard and leave me nearly breathless. Can I have that, please?''
Roderick nodded, unable to talk, and, sitting on the edge of the bed, he opened his arms wide, like he should have done years before. Raven came, tentatively putting his arms around his father's waist, keeping one or two inches between them. The older man pulled his son closer, cuddling and lightly cradling him, whispering words of comfort into his ear.
From where he stood, Lothier looked at the scene, his feelings mixed. Of course, he was happy for Raven, grateful to the deities who allowed the father-son reconciliation. At the same time, however, he felt his arms and heart empty and cold, because Raven wouldn't need him anymore, now that he had his dad back. It was an ugly, selfish thought, but, for a split second, he wished the reconciliation hadn't happened.
''Thank you for everything you've done for my son. Offering him solace when no one else did.'' Lothier heard Roderick speaking, and it took him several seconds to realize the man was talking to him. ''Because of his job, I can't be with Raven all the time. So I'm asking you to do that for me.''
''Do what?'' the base's chief security asked, his pulse quickening.
''What you did before.'' the answer came in a soft voice. ''Take care of my son's body and soul. Protect him, be his rock.'' the older man gave Lothier a melancholic smile, continuing to stroke Raven's long, silky locks.
''Thank you for trusting me with that, sir.'' the guard spoke solemnly. ''I won't disappoint you.''
''Dinner, anyone?'' a teen's voice asked from outside. ''Mister Stark sent me to show you the way to dinner.''
''In a second, Lazarus,'' Lothier answered. ''Wait for Raven to put something warmer on. Earl Stanford will accompany us, too.''
The three of them stepped out of the room, Roderick holding his son close to him. The hybrid let out a sigh of relief at the sight, marking another well-done job on his to-do list, Christmas edition. The most challenging part of his and Gaspard's mission was accomplished, he thought. Now it was time for some fun.
Reaching the dining-room, or better said the dining hall, Roderick let out a gasp of surprise when he saw the vast number of people gathered around the table. He wondered if they were all part of his newfound family. A little disoriented, the man was searching for his place, when Alastair spotted him.
''Over here, little brother.'' he raised his voice a little, to cover the buzz of conversation. ''Please, sit down.'' he indicated the spot next to Zoe, who, together with Mallory, were flanking him.
''Thank you.'' Roderick looked around. ''Could you tell me who's who? I have to confess I'm a little overwhelmed here.''
''Sure,'' Alastair smiled. ''These three here are our Bloom nephews, Thaddeus and Sebastian, and their sister Willa. My three children who've you already met. Then there are my grandsons, Alasdair and Gerrard, their boyfriends Ardan and Claran. That's Sebastian's husband, Joraan, with their life partners Vincent and Nicholas. Next to them is our good family friends Rosa and Claudio Brentano. Then there is Hugo, Willa's oldest son, with his wife, Regina. Next is Hugo's sister Ariana, with her soon-to-be-husband Richard. Your son Ramsay and Richard are co-workers. The rest of them are expected to arrive tomorrow.''
''The rest of them?'' The excitement was pouring from Roderick's voice, while his eyes widened in surprise. ''Are they also related to you, to...us?''
''Of course, they are.'' Alastair smiled, amused by his brother's reaction. ''All of the younger generation, the great-nieces and great-nephews, with their respective husbands, wives, life partners, and soulmates, plus some other loyal family friends.''
''Speaking of the younger generation, I don't see Tarann and Tess.'' Roderick cast a worried look around the table, searching for his youngest grandchildren.
''They are having dinner with the other kids in another dining room. They are under the supervision of Sue Ellen Milkovich, our trusted and loving nanny. She's an angel of patience.'' Alastair grinned. ''Knowing the blondies, they are probably charming their way into Tess's and Tarann's hearts. However, in case of your grandson, it's not going to be easy, as they have a serious opponent in Kellin Braginsky.''
''Yes, the boy who was chasing that mistletoe-stealing bat.'' Roderick smiled, remembering the incident. ''Poor thing, he would have tumbled down the stairs, breaking his neck, had Tarann not caught him.''
''Yes, that's right.'' Alastair slowly nodded. ''Well, I guess the Fates work in mysterious ways, and we, as mere mortals, should put our trust in them.''
Roderick nodded in approval, starting to eat. The smell and taste of the food were delectable for both his palate and nostrils. Contrary to what he expected, the dishes were not sophisticated but simple and savory. They reminded him of a lot of Elinor's favorite recipes. Thinking of his wife, the man's chest constricted in pain.
She would have loved the atmosphere at the mansion, Roderick thought. It was the idea of being part of a big, loving, and happy family. Just like him, the woman was an only child, and, although the center of her parents' universe, she'd always longed for brotherly affection. She'd also wanted nieces and nephews who could play with her children, and whom she could spoil rotten.
After dinner, Roderick spent a couple of
hours in Alastair, Mallory, and Zoe's company, pleasantly chatting about anything and everything. Ramsay, Mattie, and Duncan were hanging out with Tyler, Ava, Rayne, the Van Houten-Bloom brothers, and their significant others.
And then, exhausted, but happy, the man went to bed. Down the corridor, his son was held by strong, safe arms. He was cradled against a muscular chest that sheltered a caring, gentle heart. His other son and daughter were spending quality time in the company of their cousins, and his grandchildren's smiles were brighter than ever. They were finally home, Roderick thought, drifting asleep.
''G
ood morning, dear boy! Isn't it a little early for you?'' the voice asked, a hint of worry in it. ''Did you not sleep well?''
''G' morning.'' a sleepy Tarann said to the gentle giant he immediately identified as Uncle Thaddeus, the children's favorite. ''No, I slept like a log, but this is the hour I usually wake up at home. I used to go to school really early; that way, I avoided being picked on. It was tranquil at school, the only time when the voices in my head went silent, and I liked it.''