by Kenzi Bond
Malcolm knew that was a forgone conclusion. “I’m not worried about that. My concern is we go out and discover it’s all been a fantasy. Maybe we’ve built up our feelings up over the years based on emails. What will happen then? Will they stop reaching out? Will we lose them for good? Damn it, how do we even know they still think of us that way?”
Drake stood up. “After all this time, they still wear our collars. That has to mean something, right?” he asked.
“Let’s give it a few months. The boys will be twenty then. I know it doesn’t make a huge difference, but I would feel better,” Malcolm said.
“And what if they find someone in that time?” Drake asked.
“They won’t,” Malcolm responded. He hoped it was true.
11
Drake
H
e had just finished sending an email when a news bulletin flashed across the second monitor he had left on the news station. Drake felt like he was going to be physically ill. His stomach rolled and twisted with anxiety. Eyes locked on the screen, he yelled to Malcolm.
“The boys have been taken!” Frantically, he reached for the remote and turned on the television. His heart racing, he watched the report again on the larger screen.
The presenter’s expression was one of concern, highlighted with excitement as she spoke. It was always the same. Drake believed they generally cared about what they were reporting, but news was money. Especially stories about the twins.
“We have footage of the abduction of Dean and Beau Xavier earlier today. Some of the images may be distressing. Viewer discretion is advised…”
Distressing didn’t even begin to cover how Drake felt as he watched the footage. A gut-wrenching panic he’d never felt before took over his senses. The screen changed to the footage showing Beau and Dean walking in a busy part of the downtown shopping district. They looked happy. One of the boys laughed as the other spoke. They were dressed casually, like the many people around them, in chino shorts and matching striped polo shirts.
When the white van pulled up onto the curb near where they were walking, one of the twins noticed and tugged his brother closer to the entrance of a shop. He probably thought it was paparazzi, Drake thought. It wasn’t until three masked men jumped out and ran toward them that the boys showed signs of alarm. They put up a good fight, but it wasn’t enough. The next scene was the hardest to watch. One of the attackers pulled out a crowbar, swinging it toward one of the boys’ heads. Drake was pretty sure it was Beau. As Beau raised his arm to protect himself, the crowbar slammed into his forearm with sickening force. Drake was grateful the footage was silent as he watched the arm connect with the metal bar and the boy’s face contort in an agonized scream. The boys were dragged across the ground and thrown into the back of the van. People around them tried to help until a gun was drawn by one of the men.
All-consuming rage colored Drake’s mind as the boys were driven away in broad daylight. Continuing her report, the Presenter mentioned Beau and Dean’s charity work and provided background into how they were rescued as children, then adopted by Jackson Xavier. “As of now, no ransom demands have been made. Police are asking for any information to assist in the safe return of the twins.”
Drake’s gaze locked on his brother. “They’re still wearing the collars. We have to phone Jackson. We can find them.”
Malcolm was already walking toward the safe. “You bring up the program on your tablet; I’ll get the codes.”
With shaking hands, Drake tried twice to bring up the correct web address. He almost sobbed when the login page appeared. He handed the tablet to Malcolm and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. What if it didn’t work?
“I’m in. I have their location. What should we do? Call the police? Go to where the boys are being held?” Malcolm’s features were set in harsh lines as he stared at the tablet.
Drake was already shaking his head. “We can’t go and attempt a rescue; we’d never forgive ourselves if we fucked it up. We’re not trained for this. The way I see it, we give the information directly to Jackson, or we can call the cops, give them an anonymous tip and hope they take it seriously.”
Malcolm still hadn’t taken his eyes off the tablet screen. “Let’s try calling Jackson first.” Locating Jackson’s business card, he put the phone on speaker and dialed the number.
“Yes?” a deep voice asked.
“I need to speak to Jackson. Tell him it’s Malcolm Tallon.”
There were words muffled in the background. “Jackson is unable to speak to you at the moment, but he thanks you for your concern.”
“Wait, don’t hang up. We have a way of tracking Beau and Dean. We know where they are. Tell Jackson the collars have trackers,” Drake said before the man could disconnect the call.
There were more low voices. “You stay right where you are. We’re coming to you. I mean it. Don’t go anywhere, and don’t do anything stupid. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes. Who are you? Don’t you need our address?” Malcolm asked.
“My name is Detective Sergeant Jason Steele. I know where you are. Do you think we wouldn’t be tracing this call?”
A dial tone indicated the phone had disconnected. Malcolm stared at the phone still clutched in his fist. “It might have been the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with, but you may have saved the boys’ lives.”
Drake and Malcolm knew all about Jason Steele. The boys held him in high regard, describing him as a warrior. He was apparently a very direct man with no time for fools. He was married to a hacker by the name of Kaden. From what they knew, Kaden was to be avoided at all costs. Although, Drake didn’t believe half the things the boys had told them about Kaden’s antics.
Drake thought of the trackers. At the time, Drake didn’t know what made him agree to the inclusion of trackers in the creation of the collars. When the designer had made the suggestion, he had found himself saying yes. It wasn’t as if they used the trackers to stalk the boys. In fact, this was the first time they had even used the program. He placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We’ll get them home.”
Waiting was the hardest thing Drake had done in his life. He couldn’t bear thinking about the boys and what might be happening to them.
“They’re here,” Malcolm said, moving away from the monitor where he had been watching the security feeds covering the outside of the building.
Together, they went outside and waited as the dark sedan came to a halt in front of the entrance. Drake didn’t know what he expected, but the first man to step out of the car was not it. Drake got the feeling he wasn’t law enforcement. He was too average, and his light brown hair was too long. Another man got out of the car and stared at Drake and Malcolm. He was solid muscle and had an aura of danger about him as his eyes swept over them. This was a man you didn’t mess with. Drake was pretty sure the man was Jason. The last person to hop out of the vehicle was Joel. The boys had explained how Joel had turned his life around. This was the first time they had seen him in person. He looked nothing like the drunk from the club. For starters, he was wearing his police uniform. He looked healthy and fit and had added muscle to his previously too-thin frame. Even his eyes were bright and focused.
Joel pointed to the first man who had hopped out of the car. “This is Kaden. You will give him everything he needs, and then you and I are going to have a talk,” Joel said.
Malcolm handed the tablet to Kaden and stepped back to allow everyone inside. “It’s a simple program. The GPS tracker shows the location on the map. Nothing more. No audio or visual.”
“Yeah, good, I’m familiar with the program. Let’s go inside,” Kaden said.
Jason walked up to Drake, crowding his space. Apprehensively, Drake took a step back.
“Where’s your office? We’ll set up in there.”
Drake froze under the glare of the massive man.
Malcolm pushed between them protectively. Placing a hand on Jason’s chest, he gave a small shove. “
Back off. We’re trying to help. You can use my office.”
Drake was stunned that his brother would challenge the man. He watched as they eyed each other.
“Quit it with the pissing contest. The twins need us. Follow me, Jason. I know where the office is,” Joel said.
It wasn’t until Jason looked away that Drake was able to breathe easier.
In the office, Kaden wasted no time. He sat down and started opening programs and muttering to himself.
Jason turned and gave them a menacing look. “You two sit down and tell me how you happen to have trackers on the boys. I’m aware of your history; Jackson filled me in. But that doesn’t explain why you’ve been spying on them.”
Jason’s words were almost a growl, and Drake felt a shiver run through him. There was no forgiveness in the cold, gray eyes staring at them. Drake wondered just how much trouble he was in.
“Malcolm had nothing to do with it. Yes, we gave the boys the collars. I agreed to the option to include a tracker, but we’ve never used it. When we met them, they were always taking risks. I can’t explain. It was like a security blanket of sorts. It was just there, you know? We never spied on them,” he insisted.
Malcolm stood and got in Jason’s space. “It doesn’t matter. Without us, you would still be sitting on your ass waiting for the kidnappers to call. You should be grateful,” Malcolm said.
Kaden picked up a stapler and threw it across the room where it sprung open, staples flying everywhere. “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to work,” Kaden rumbled. “I know where they’re being held. Lucky for us, it’s an unused office building, but the security feeds are still active. I might be able to piggyback their security cameras to give us eyes,” he muttered.
“I don’t have visual on the room where the boys are being kept, but I believe it’s this room here or the one beside it.” He pointed at a spot on the monitor screen where he’d pulled up the building plans.
Malcolm sat down abruptly, as if his strings had been cut. Drake moved closer so that he sat alongside his brother. “Do you think they are alright?” he asked.
Malcolm gave a small smile. “I’m sure the boys are giving the kidnappers hell. They’re smart and resourceful. We’ve got to have faith; they’ll be fine.”
Joel sat down opposite them. “A team is on their way to the location. With the information provided by Kaden, we have a high chance of rescuing them without either of them getting hurt.” He glanced at Drake. “I still want to know why you’ve been spying on the boys.”
Drake went to respond, but Malcolm cut him off. “We told you, we haven’t been spying on them.”
Jason approached. “I don’t want to hear it. As far as I’m concerned, you’re both perverts. You had no right going anywhere near the twins.”
Drake felt himself shrink under Jason’s glare. He wanted to explain that it wasn’t like that. But maybe it was? They had been continuing a relationship with the boys, even if it was via emails.
“Do you know who took them?” Malcolm asked.
Joel gave a small shake of his head. “It could be anyone. They get hate mail, fan mail, threats, and offers. Some people think of the twins as a prized possession to be owned; they get death threats from groups who find their relationship a sign of the devil, people who target them because their adoptive father is wealthy. It would have taken us forever to narrow down who was behind the abduction. Thanks to you, we have hope that everything will work out fine.”
What must their life be like? Who could they trust? Drake wanted to step up and protect them, but it wasn’t his place. His brother made a distressed noise beside him. “I need to step away for a bit,” he said before lurching to his feet and racing from the room. Drake chased after him, finding him pacing the hall.
“They’ll be okay. We have to believe Beau and Dean will be okay, you know?” Drake whispered.
“I know, I just never thought about how difficult their lives must be. They put up a good front, but it’s just an act.” Malcolm let Drake pull him into his arms.
“Were we wrong to let the boys continue to connect with us?” Drake asked.
Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t know. There was never anything inappropriate in our emails. But from the outside looking in, maybe it does look suspicious. I really don’t know.”
Drake took in the pallor of his brother’s white face. “Are you up to going back inside?” he asked.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
As they entered the room, Jason’s eyes focused on them. “We’ve got ‘em. They’re on their way to the hospital for treatment. They have multiple contusions, cuts, and abrasions. One of the boys has a broken arm, but we don’t know which one because they’re not speaking,” Jason reported.
Drake couldn’t believe how fast everything went down. Hope spread through his heart. Was it really over? “Can we come and see them?” he asked.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea. The place is going to be swarming with reporters. It will be hard enough getting Jackson and Lucas through the gauntlet. What would you say when they asked what your relationship was to the boys?”
“We could tell the truth. We’re friends,” Malcolm said.
Joel shook his head. “Thank you, Drake, and you too, Malcolm. I don’t want to think about what could have happened if you hadn’t contacted us. I will call you later with an update, but you and I both know you need to stay away.” Joel turned his back, dismissing them.
Drake watched as Joel and the other men collected their gear and walked out the door without a backward glance.
12
Dean
W
rapped in a blanket, Dean sat beside his brother in the back of the ambulance. The paramedics had tried to separate them so they could assess Beau’s injuries, but Beau lashed out whenever they got near.
Dean was so cold; he couldn’t stop shaking. With one arm around his brother, he curled into his side, his breathing harsh to his own ears. He closed his eyes and tried to shut the world out until Beau started to struggle beside him.
“Don’t you dare. Get away from me,” Beau snarled.
Dean’s eyes flew open in alarm. He watched, frozen, as a paramedic expertly stabbed a needle into Beau’s arm.
“My name’s Debbie. It’s just a small sedative to relax you while we tend your injuries. Your arm needs to be stabilized. Can you tell me your name?”
“Leave us alone. Back off.” Beau cursed in pain.
Dean pulled Beau tighter against his side until Beau was almost in Dean’s lap.
Beau’s grip on Dean’s hand bordered on painful.
“Take us home,” Beau demanded.
Dean’s breathing hitched up another level. Debbie’s eyes flew to his. “You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you. You need to calm down.” Her voice was soft with understanding. He felt the pinch of a needle. While his focus had been on Debbie, the other paramedic had given him an injection also.
The drug must have knocked Beau out because he slumped heavily against Dean.
Feeling the effects of the sedative dragging him down also, he fought to stay awake. “Stay away from us. Don’t…you… No, don’t take ’em.” Dean’s words became slurred as he pushed against Debbie, who was trying to separate them.
Dean felt weightless as he was suddenly lifted and placed on a gurney and strapped in. His panic grew, making it difficult to breathe. Pain spread across his lungs.
“Shh, your brother is right there,” a male voice said.
The man guided his head until he could see Beau on the other gurney. He reached across the distance, wanting to connect with him. A sob broke free when his arm felt too heavy to lift. Father said they had to be the same. Beau’s arm was bad. Father would have to break Dean’s arm, too, so they could stay the same, and he would be so mad at them.
“Hey, buddy, you’re safe. Look at me. Can you tell me your name?” Dean focused on the kind eyes of the man staring at him. That wasn’t his father. Where was
he?
“That’s it, buddy. Focus on my voice. My name’s Vic. Can you tell me your name?”
Why did the man keep asking that? “Beau-Dean…” No, wait, that wasn’t right. He was Dean. They weren’t with their father anymore. They were free. “Dean. I’m Dean. I want my brother.”
Vic took Dean’s hand in a gentle grip. “Debbie’s helping your brother right now. Let’s focus on you.” He glanced over at his partner.
Dean looked toward Beau, anxious when Debbie blocked his view. “I can’t see him,” he whispered. Despite the calm of the drugs, a tight vice squeezed his lungs again.
“Deb, can you move over a little? I think it will help if they can see each other,” Vic suggested.
Debbie quickly moved, and Dean let out a breath when he could see his brother again.
“Dean, does that hurt?” Vic asked as he carefully moved his hands over Dean’s limbs, looking for injuries.
“I wasn’t hurt. Beau…he…his arm. There was so much blood. I didn’t know what to do. And the bone…” He gulped. The thought of the bone had his stomach twisting. “I tried to wrap my shirt around it, but he screamed.” Dean let out a whimper. “I want Papa and Dad. I want to go home. Please, we’ll be good.” He fought the confusion of the drugs. He knew they weren’t little children anymore, but he needed his parents.
It all happened so fast—this wasn’t the first time someone had tried to hurt them, but they believed they were safe. Being able to break away from untrained men had made them cocky. Their basic training had been useless against the determined men who took them.
Through the frantic sound of his heartbeat, he heard Vic speak. “You’re safe. Just focus on my voice. Can you hear me, Dean?”
Terror filled his mind as he relived the moment the metal bar connected with Beau’s arm. He had never before heard his brother scream so loud. The sound the bone made as it snapped echoed over and over with the memory.
