by H. M. Wolfe
“That lowlife is the same one Derek worked for?” For Alasdair, the puzzle started to make sense, more and more pieces falling into place. At that moment, he was convinced that what he saw that night wasn’t what it appeared to be.
“From the position of ‘favorite concubine,’ I was able to protect my friends, to keep them away from auctions, to offer them a better chance. BB enjoyed torturing me, but he also wanted me to look good, to have a sculptured body, so he made me exercise. Sometimes, men with the same tastes attended his organized parties, where they brought their prized possessions to be admired and, for the right price, sampled.”
“It was there where you met the guy who helped you escape?” Alasdair, who had always been a little annoyed by how much respect Ardan showed when he mentioned the name of his associate, was then beyond grateful to the man.
“Yes. One of the men who worked for him came with a quarter of a million, and BB agreed to let me go for a night. My venerable associate hired Colin Rafferty to get me and the boys out. He was a retired pilot and special ops division member with excellent combat and tactical skills.”
“He sounds like my uncle Sebastian. He was also in the military, but then suffered a plane crash and retired, some twelve years ago.”
“At my honorable partner’s advice and with his financial support, we opened a small chain of casinos, luring the bastards who used me and the other boys to come, play and lose their money. Then, I tortured them for days until I finally got tired of their screams and killed them. All the money the casinos produced was and is still used for rescuing innocent lives from BB’s rapacious claws.”
That time, Alasdair didn’t ask anything, he didn’t need to know any more. Guilt and regret washed over him and remembering how he ran away without a word, made him sick. Ardan must’ve been extremely worried. He must’ve felt powerless while I was busy being a brat, Alasdair thought bitterly.
“And now, the final piece of the puzzle,” Ardan’s soft voice brought the teen back to reality. “When he decided to keep me around, BB marked me in certain places on my body. Bailey was the latest pleasure toy of that goddamn bastard. He heard a lot, somehow managed to memorize essential information about his owner’s personal businesses. But before that, I had to check and see if the marks were there. I couldn’t afford to jeopardize the security of my organization for the second time. I chose to do that when you were sleeping precisely because I didn’t want to hurt you. However, all my efforts were in vain.”
“What do you mean by that?” Alasdair was still feeling extremely guilty for the situation he’d created, but he suspected Ardan wasn’t talking about that.
“Bailey is still in shock, refusing to communicate in any way. And now, with BB knowing that we have him, it’s just a question of time until things get out of control and turn into a bad, messy, bloody street war from which we might not make it out alive.”
CHAPTER 12
“No, don’t even think about that.” Ardan shook his head vehemently. “I’m not going and that’s final,” he said in a much softer voice.
“But I spoke with Grandpa. I told him about you and everything you did for the guys and the other children. I also told him about what I feel for you,” Alasdair replied, blushing violently.
“I love you, too, more than my life itself,” Ardan whispered, hugging the redhead to his chest. “That’s why I don’t want you to be rejected by your family for associating with me.”
“Rejected by them? No way in hell,” Alasdair spoke ardently. “You don’t know them. Mine is the tightest knit family in the entire universe, and they can’t wait to meet you,” the redhead continued in a convincing, passionate voice. He’d only known his family for around six months, but he felt like he’d known them forever.
“I still don’t think this is a good idea, my little Spitfire.” Ardan lowered his head. “You belong to one of the most powerful families in the world. I’m only a small-time gang leader, no education, nothing to offer. This is all I do, all I know.” He gestured around the room.
“You’re right about one thing.” The redhead smiled slyly. “Saving children from traffickers’ greedy claws is all you know, and you’re damn good at it. On the other hand, there’s always room for improvement.”
“What do you mean?” Ardan raised his head, an unmasked curiosity in his voice. Not even then, after almost a year of knowing him, could he decipher the complex mechanism Alasdair’s brain was.
“Think about it: my cousin Daniel runs an organization with almost limitless resources, financial and logistical. The Dragons’ House has people working in the social services system, who could find suitable homes for the kidnapped children. They have great therapists, not to mention the highly trained combatants enrolled in different Mafia-like structures.”
Ardan’s brain started to function at warp speed, his heart thumping hard against the ribcage at the thought of bringing BB down once and for all. If he only could convince Alasdair’s cousin and grandfather to support his efforts. Overwhelmed by emotions as he had been over the past few days, Ardan had forgotten about a conversation he and an extremely happy Seymour had, two days after he and Alasdair reconciled.
Smiling warmly, his best friend told him that he and Rayne, the redhead’s uncle, were a couple, speaking very affectionately about the patriarch of the clan, Doctor Stark’s father and Alasdair’s grandfather. According to Seymour, the distinguished gentleman was fiercely protective of children, the feeling extending way beyond his nephews’ sons and daughters.
“Okay.” Ardan raised his hands in surrender, a barely-there smile playing on his lips. “You win, Spitfire. I’ll come with you to Connecticut.”
“Hooray!” the redhead exclaimed, throwing his fist into the air and undulating his hips in a seductive dance of victory.
“I’ll go to inform the boys,” Ardan said, the smile still there. “Since Seymour will be gone, too, I’ll put Drew and Landon in charge.”
“Good.” Alasdair nodded. “I’ll pick Ezra up from Leon’s. I’ll go to the mansion to pack my things, then we’ll meet there.
“Wait a minute! What time is the flight to Connecticut? I’m assuming we’re traveling by plane, is that correct?”
“Of course! But don’t worry, we’re taking the company’s plane. There will be only the family members and the guests of honor.” Alasdair winked. “Anyway, we have enough time,” he added.
Accompanied by Seymour, who was also heading to the mansion, the place everyone in the area gathered at so they could leave at the same time, the redhead stopped for a few minutes at Leon’s where Ezra already waited for them. The young man looked much better. His eyes were shinier, and he didn’t shy away every time someone wanted to touch him.
Darien had taken it upon himself to look after of Ezra so he could get back on his feet. His sharp hearing helped him to detect various inflections in the boy's voice, instantly knowing what he was feeling at any given moment.
Although he didn’t trust Darien to the point of telling him about the horrors he endured, Ezra felt good and safe in the other young man’s company, the two of them talking about a lot of things.
“Wow, look at you! Doesn’t he look great?” Alasdair turned to Seymour after he’d examined his cousin’s all-leather outfit, letting out a low, appreciative whistle.
“Hello, Ezra. You look great, indeed.” The car’s driver turned to the young man who just stepped into the vehicle.
“Thanks, guys,” the newly arrived said, smiling shyly. “Darien helped me choose the clothes.”
“Are you telling me that a blind guy helps one who sees to choose what to wear? Wow, dude!” Alasdair couldn’t help it.
“Shush,” Ezra lightly nudged his younger cousin in the side, smiling. “He insists on doing that, says it helps to visualize things better, to have a better representation. The guy is great, nothing stops him,” the young man continued, admiration in his voice.
Alasdair’s eyes widened, and he gasped in aw
e at the sight before his eyes. From where they were, he could see the majestic Connecticut mansion on the horizon, and it was three or four times bigger than Daniel’s house. The kid let out small sounds of admiration and amazement as he became more and more captivated by the breathtaking landscape and the gracious architecture of the building that became more visible by the second.
Ardan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice any of the wonders nature and man had created. He was busy thinking about the next day; the one that was going to be the last of his life. It was hard to imagine he’d survive after killing the one who destroyed his body and soul. The Fates had played a dirty trick on him because that beast belonged to his beloved Spitfire's family; he was none other than his uncle Benjamin Bloom.
Since Alasdair came back to The Base, he’d filled Ardan’s head with stories about his family, making the man think about BB's identity. All the tiny details he hadn’t paid attention to, the initials and many other, seemingly unimportant things, came to his mind, and the revelation shook him to the core.
He had to speak with that monster’s nephews, not to justify the act he was about to commit, but to beg them to take care of his friends. Also, he wanted to ask them not to hate their cousin for loving him; the kid didn’t have to suffer for something he was not guilty of.
After dinner, everyone went to their rooms, except Daniel, Daniel's father, the father’s partners, his husband, his adoptive cousin and his brother-in-law, the pale boy Alasdair hung around with, and that massive Russian guy with an impossibly complicated name. Without any doubt, they wanted to discuss some important business, although Ardan didn’t see the point of the pale kid’s presence.
Discreetly knocking on the door, the man waited for an answer that didn’t come. The matter was too important to give up, so he tried again. Finally, a man’s voice spoke.
“Come back later, please, whoever you are. We are discussing important family matters here.”
“Later could be too late because tomorrow is the last day of my life,” Ardan replied, defeated.
The door opened wide, a worried Sebastian Bloom examining the younger man’s face. “Why do you say that, son? Who is going to kill you?”
“Before answering that, I want you to know that I’m not going to beg for my life to be spared, or for my death to be painless and quick. I deserve to die because I’m going to kill one of you.” Ardan stared ahead of him with empty eyes.
“Who are you going to kill and why?” Daniel asked, a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach warning him that all of them were going to find out something important.
“It’s an older man, he must be in his early fifties now. He looks a lot like you, sir.” Ardan cast a look in Sebastian’s direction. “He goes by the initials BB. He is a monster, a creature of hell, and I’ll rip his black heart out with my bare hands.”
“BB? That’s Uncle Benjamin,” Daniel spoke, a little surprised by the vehemence in Ardan’s voice. “Why would you want to kill him? Sure, he’s not the nicest man in our family, but you must have stronger reasons to do that,” he continued.
“He has, son, believe me.” Sebastian took the young man’s shaking hand between his own, looking into his eyes. “He didn’t win, didn’t break you, didn’t put you into the ground, not as long as you did something meaningful with your life.”
“Did my uncle harm you in any way?” Daniel finally understood, anger threatening to get out of control. “What did that hellish monster do to you?”
“He ripped my innocence away, took my will, my self-esteem, my dignity and turned me into an instrument to satisfy his sick, twisted, perverted pleasures. He even marked me as his own,” Ardan said bitterly, tears staining his pale cheeks.
Daniel was shellshocked by the man’s revelation, veiled as it was. He found it very hard to believe that someone who shared the same blood as his father and his uncle Fabian could commit such heinous crimes.
“I was only thirteen, still a child, but he showed no mercy, didn’t hold back. He took me again and again until I passed out, but he didn’t stop,” Ardan spoke in a flat, emotionless voice, his mind trapped in that horrible, nightmarish past.
In a trance-like state, the young man told those gathered in the room everything without adding or leaving out anything. The whole time, Sebastian held his hand between his own, tenderly caressing it, trying to calm Ardan down, to comfort him, to take some of his pain away.
As he listened to the story of horrific abuse, Daniel was overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions: hate, anger and despise for the monster who had shattered the soul of the poor kid, brotherly love, respect and admiration for the survivor.
In spite of the hell he had been put through, Ardan found in him the strength to save the others, to protect and take care of them. His young cousin had excellent taste in men, he couldn’t help but smile inwardly. The young man brought his story to its end, then stopped talking.
“You remind me of a poor twelve-year-old boy I used to know,” Sebastian started to talk, still holding Ardan’s hand, while Vincent and Joraan were behind both of them, rubbing circles on their backs and helping them relax. “His brother did unspeakable things to him too.”
“Why didn’t he tell anyone?” Elliott spoke, who, like everyone else except Daniel and Sebastian, hadn’t said a word until then.
“Because, just like Ardan, he had someone to protect too. A younger boy, his cousin, witnessed the ordeal. The twelve-year-old didn’t want the same fate for the child, so he agreed to be the psychotic bastard’s toy.”
“How did everything end up? Did the older boy manage to save the younger one from the predator’s clutches? What became of the two in the end?” Eugene asked, his beautiful, ice-blue eyes darkened from anger.
“They both got away and carried on with their lives.” Sebastian closed his eyes for a brief moment. “The younger boy left the house where he spent his childhood and, most likely, found happiness someplace else. As for the older one, he had his ups and downs, but in the end, his life was perfect.”
During the time Ardan told his story and afterwards, Ezra had started to become even paler than usual, his lips turned almost white, his eyes wide and haunted. Unnoticed, the young man left the chair he sat on, moving into a large armchair where he disappeared almost completely. He just sat there, quiet sobs racking through his thin frame as he fought to stifle them.
When his uncle Sebastian stopped talking, though, Ezra couldn’t hold back the sobs that suffocated him and let out a long, desperate wail, then started to cry convulsively, his entire body shaking badly like he’d been electrocuted. Daniel’s husband, Tarquin, and brother-in-law, Elliott, were the first who went to the young man, making efforts to calm him down.
“Ezra, what’s wrong. What happened to you?” Elliott spoke as calmly as he could, trying to hide his own distress.
Leaving his chair, Ardan headed to him too. “Who hurt you?” he spoke in a soft, compassionate voice, wrapping his arms around the poor boy and cradling him back and forth.
“He did,” Ezra managed to say in a hitched voice before starting to cry again, even harder than before.
“He, who?” the young man insisted as gently as he could, although the answer terrified him.
“He who hurt you too,” the boy spoke after a while, making long pauses between words. “He used to do it in the bathroom when no one was around, but the last time I was in my room, alone, naked. I’d just taken a shower and... That’s why I told you I wanted to go back to Leon’s,” Ezra said, looking in Elliott’s direction.
“Filthy scumbag, bastard, sick, perverted fucker!” Daniel shouted, his hands balled into fists, eyes red from anger. “How could he do that to his own son? I’m going to kill him with my bare hands. I’ll beat him to death. I’ll...”
“Calm down, my friend.” Eugene put a hand on his friend’s arm. “You can’t kill that monster, no matter how much you want to do it because he’s your uncle. Mallory has a plan I can’t share with y
ou yet, a plan to bring the bastard here before your great-uncle. He’ll decide the fucker’s fate.”
“I’ll take Ezra to bed; he’s had enough for one day,” Joraan said, looking worriedly at the young man, who was still shivering from time to time, in spite of Ardan’s efforts of warming him up.
“I want to sleep with Alasdair.” The young Bloom finally reacted. “If you don’t mind, of course.” He raised his head, giving the man who held him a pleading look.
“Of course. I know for sure he’ll be happy to cuddle with you, too, as you did at Leon’s.” Ardan lightly touched the strands on Ezra’s forehead.
“I think we should go to bed too,” Vincent spoke. “The day has been exhausting for everyone, and the last thing we want is for Alastair to see us with dark circles under our eyes on his big day tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 13
The kid paced restlessly around the small room, uneasiness making his stomach clench. Putting one hand over it, he started to lightly massage the area that caused him discomfort, trying to chase away the thought that had terrified him over the past three days since they’d caught him and locked him in that room.
Was there another seed growing in his artificial womb, put there by the men he’d sold his body to in the weeks he’d lived on the streets? Most of them refused to use protection, and the teen had been too desperate for money, so he’d agreed. And then, the Fates seemed to smile down on him as he discovered an abandoned building that, surprisingly enough, provided pretty decent living conditions, including power and running water.
But the kid had to eat, too, and he did it by stealing from the large, completely equipped and functional kitchen in one of the nearby buildings until the day they caught him. To the boy’s huge surprise, all the men did was take him there, to that room, where he enjoyed all the comfort a teenager his age could wish for.
If it wasn’t for the men guarding the door and for the one who came and fed him every day, it would’ve felt like home. Suddenly, the kid’s eyes filled with tears as he recalled the life he’d had before falling into the clutches of the beasts that had held him captive for the last five years, subjecting him to all those nightmarish experiments.