by Kenzi Bond
Dean looked toward his brother again. Forcing himself to breathe through his fear, frozen with panic at being separated from his brother, the exhaustion consumed him as he felt himself drifting off. Dean came to slowly, trying to work out why he felt so tired. His body wouldn’t obey as he attempted to sit up.
“Dean, honey, it’s Papa. I’m here. You’re at the hospital. Beau is right beside you.” He felt Jackson lift his hand and place it on Beau’s. He latched onto his brother’s ice-cold hand. Why was his hand so cold? That wasn’t right. He fought to open his eyes.
He spotted Jackson leaning over the bed. “Hey, you.” Jackson spoke in a soft voice. He had clearly been crying—his eyes were red and swollen. Lines of worry etched his face, and his mouth was pulled tight. Lucas came into view, his face leached of color. He gave Dean a small smile. “Hey, Dean. Welcome back.”
“What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe now, you’re both safe.”
Dean’s memories came flooding back. He remembered everything—he remembered the men that had taken them. Beau’s arm had been bleeding, and bone had broken through the skin. He rolled over, grabbing for his brother with both arms.
“Careful now. He needs surgery.”
Beau and Dean were lying in the same hospital bed. Dean stared at Beau, watching as he slowly woke up. Unlike Dean, Beau came awake fully aware. His fist connected with Lucas’s face as he leaned in too close.
“Get the fuck away— Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry! I thought we were still being held. Dad…” Beau sobbed as Lucas embraced him.
“I’m fine. It didn’t hurt too much, but that was quite a punch, given it was your left hand.” Lucas rubbed Beau’s back soothingly. “Hey now, no need for tears.”
It was some time before everyone calmed down. Dean lay with his head on Beau’s chest, counting the rhythmic beat, while Beau ran his fingers soothingly through his hair.
“We thought it was someone from the auction. That they had come back for us,” Dean mumbled against his brother’s skin.
“It was money they wanted, but they made sure to let us know we would be sold if they didn’t get the cash,” Beau snarled. The heartbeat under Dean’s ear increased with Beau’s words.
Lucas leaned forward to comfort Beau, only to jump back as Beau gave him a shove. “Don’t touch us. Just back up and give us some room. Don’t—just… Leave us alone.” Beau’s arms tightened around Dean.
Beau’s voice scared him. It was almost unrecognizable, filled with venom and anger. But what frightened him the most was it reminded him of their father.
“Beau, it’s just Dad. He won’t hurt us. Calm down. Look, you’re upsetting them.”
Lucas was staring at Beau in shock. “I won’t touch you, Beau. I promise,” he said, his tone calm and even.
“Don’t use that shrink voice on me. I have every right to be upset. Once again, some fuckers thought they could just take us. We were nothing but objects to them. We knew Drake and Malcolm could track us, knew you would come for us, but it didn’t change the fact that we couldn’t do anything.” The words were thrown out in a furious storm of self-loathing.
“Don’t talk to your dad like that,” Jackson said. “We know you’ve been through a lot, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to hurl abuse at him.”
In a blink, Beau’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Dad. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so mad. When anyone gets near us, I panic and want to lash out.”
“No harm done, son,” Jackson said, watching Beau closely.
Dean reached for his collar for comfort. It wasn’t there. His eyes flew to Beau’s bare neck. “Where are our collars?”
Jackson placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “They cut them off when you came in. We can get them if you want,” he said.
Dean’s eyes filled with tears. He hated that it was gone.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Lucas asked.
Dean looked at Beau. It was one of those times that he knew what his brother wanted. “Can we use your phone? We want to call Malcolm and Drake and say thank you.”
Jackson frowned at the request. “Do you want to explain why they had trackers on you?”
“You asked what we wanted, and then you give us grief. Either give us the phone or get out,” Beau argued.
Jackson’s expression closed off as he wordlessly handed over the phone. “Let’s give them some privacy,” he said, leading Lucas out of the room.
Dean sat up and stared in shock at his brother.
“What?” Beau asked.
“What? Are you serious? Can you hear yourself? You’re being an asshole.”
“Sorry, but I don’t give a fuck right now. I’m tired of being treated like a commodity. I’m tired of men thinking they can own us. I thought…” He broke off and cleared his throat. “I thought we could protect ourselves. We’ve done it before. I was such a fool. And if it weren’t for Drake and Malcolm, we wouldn’t have been found.” Tears filled his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.
“Do you even know their number?” Dean asked.
“No, I’ll try their office number first. It’s listed on their website.”
13
Malcolm
I
t was late in the night when the call came through. Drake had fallen asleep beside him on the couch but woke instantly. The number was unlisted, but Joel had said he would call, so Malcolm expected to hear his voice when he answered.
“Hello, this is Malcolm,” he said as he put the phone on speaker.
“Hi, um, it’s Dean. Beau’s here, too. We hope you don’t mind us calling. We just wanted to say thank you,” Dean said in a flat voice.
Malcolm didn’t like how quiet and emotionless Dean sounded.
“Dean, are you both alright? Where are you?” Drake asked.
“We’re in the hospital still. Beau’s arm’s badly broken, and he has to have surgery. I think they’re coming to get him soon, but we wanted to call you first.” Dean stopped speaking, and the silence was unnerving.
“It’s our fault. We begged Papa to cut back on our security detail. We thought we could take care of ourselves. We were naïve and stupid, and helpless to do anything to defend ourselves,” Beau said bitterly. “We tried to fight, but there were three of them. They didn’t even care if they hurt us.”
Malcolm had never felt as helpless as he did at that moment. He wanted to break every bone in the bodies of the men who had hurt Beau. Never in his life had he felt such murderous rage.
“We’re sorry for calling so late. Guess we failed at staying out of trouble, huh?” Like his brother’s, Beau’s voice was quiet, but it was also bitter. “We knew you had a tracker on us. We were babysitting at Kaden’s home, and he has alarms set up in his office that pick up these types of things. We didn’t tell anyone at the time. Anyway, we knew we just had to hold on and you would get help for us. It gave us hope.”
Malcolm thought about how he could ask what he wanted to know without upsetting them. Deciding to be direct, he took a deep breath. “Did they harm either of you in any way aside from your arm, Beau?”
Dean let out a broken laugh. “Lucky for us they just wanted money. But they let us know that if our dads didn’t pay, we would be sold to the highest bidder. It brought back memories, you know? Anyway, the one in charge took great pleasure in telling us we were only good for money or sex. He said we were too old for the usual market, but the buyers would overlook our age due to our notoriety.”
Malcolm’s grip on the phone closed tighter. He tried to relax his hold. “You know that’s not true, right? You’re both amazing. Look at how far you have come in your life. You’re not even considered legal adults, and you run a charity. You have family who loves you and so many people around you who care. Surely you both know that?”
Neither boy spoke. Malcolm glanced at Drake in concern. What could they say that would make the boys see their worth?
“If you don’t believe in an
ything else, believe this,” Malcolm said firmly. “You both mean more to us than sex and money. Do you hear me? You matter to us. We care very much for you both.”
“You’re not just saying that? We don’t even have your collars anymore. They cut them off.” The sound of Beau’s words showed how much this had upset them.
“Malcolm and I don’t say things we don’t mean. We are your friends. If you want, we can get you new collars, with or without the tracker,” Drake said, trying to get them to laugh.
“No,” Dean said with finality. “If we ever get collars again, we want it to be real, not because we forced someone’s hand.”
“Do you want us to come up there to see you?” Drake asked.
“No, there’s too many people watching us at the moment. We’ll contact you soon. We just wanted to say thank you and to hear your voice.”
There was noise in the background as someone asked a question. The words were mumbled, as if Dean had covered the phone with his hand.
Finally, a voice came through. “Hi, guys, Jackson here. Beau has to go in for surgery, and we’re having trouble getting them to let go of each other. I’ll get them to call you again tomorrow.” Jackson didn’t wait for a response, before disconnecting the call.
“It feels like they’re pulling away,” Malcolm said as he put his arm around his brother’s shoulders. Neither knew what the future would hold.
14
Beau
B
eau lay on the bed, staring at the white ceiling. He was so tired. He was sleeping so poorly that he had started having catch-up naps in the afternoon; he could barely function.
Dean was no better and currently snored softly beside him. They had slept together since their return, reverting back to protective behaviors from when they first came to live with Jackson. Beau knew it wasn’t rational, but he couldn’t seem to let Dean out of his sight.
His phone vibrated against his leg where he had left it on silent. Joel and Beth had been texting them all week. They had both explained how terrified they were for them when they heard of their abduction, but Beau didn’t want to hear it.
“You gonna get that?” Dean asked, slowly waking up. Absently, Beau realized that Dean had felt the vibration of the phone between them.
“No, I’m sure it’s just Joel or Beth, and I don’t feel like talking right now,” he said.
“Why? They just want to know we’re okay. They want to come see us.”
Beau gave a noncommittal huff. He didn’t want to see anyone. It took too much energy to pretend that everything was alright when it wasn’t.
Dean reached down, grabbing for the phone. “Well, if you’re not gonna answer, I will.”
Beau grabbed Dean’s wrist. “If I wanted to respond, I would have. I don’t want them here. If you feel so strongly about it, go see them yourself.”
Dean let go with an apology when he noticed the look of hurt spread across Dean’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay. You know, we’re going to have to speak to them sooner or later.” Dean paused before speaking quietly. “Everyone’s worried about us. We’ve hardly left the room in weeks.”
Dean was right, but Beau didn’t feel like seeing anyone. He scratched at his arm where his skin felt too tight around the cast. The cast was another heavy reminder of the incident. Unlike the decorated ones he had seen on others, his sported no signatures or drawings from friends.
A hesitant knock sounded on the door. Dean didn’t say much of anything these days, leaving Beau to take the lead in conversations. But when Beau didn’t respond to the knock, Dean called out, “Come in.”
Beau felt pressure building. He hated it when anyone entered their space.
Lucas poked his head in. “Hey, guys. Joel and Kasey are here wanting to visit. Should I let them come in?”
What the hell? He couldn’t believe they had come over when he clearly didn’t want visitors. Were they phoning them from the next room? “No, tell ’em we’re asleep.”
Lucas pushed the door open and carefully approached the bed. “You want me to lie to them and say you’re asleep? Do you think that’s fair to your friends?” He went to sit on the end of the bed, so Beau kicked his foot out, blocking him.
Beau felt panic building under his skin. Just the thought of leaving the room made him feel uncomfortable. Sometimes, his mind went over the abduction like a movie. He asked himself, what could he have done differently? Why didn’t he fight harder? He fought to keep his breathing even. “If we wanted them to visit, we would have agreed the first bazillion times they asked. We want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask for? We don’t want to talk about it.” He could see Lucas was gearing up to argue. His face was pulled tight, and his mouth was a harsh white line.
“They care about you. We all care about you, and we’re worried.” Lucas reached out and took Dean’s hand in his. “What about you, Dean? Do you want to come out and see them?”
Beau hadn’t realized he was grinding his teeth until he felt pain across his jaw. Forcing himself to relax, he tried a different approach, speaking before Dean answered.
“Please, Papa, it’s too much at the moment. Give us a little time. Can you tell them I’m sorry, but I will contact them soon? Please, Papa, I promise I will speak to them, just not now.”
Beau tried not to flinch when Lucas reached out and ran his fingers through his hair. Everything in him screamed to push the hand away. That was another thing that made him feel angry—he flinched every time someone touched him. It wasn’t as if they had been molested. Why did he suddenly hate to be touched? He hated how helpless he was when his body reacted.
“Alright, I will speak to them. They need to see for themselves that you are alright. The longer you keep them away, the more they will think something is wrong.” Lucas stood and left the room.
Dean waited until they were alone. “Talk to me, Beau. Why are you so mad all the time?”
Beau didn’t respond. He looked around their room, suddenly feeling exposed. It was a master bedroom and comfortably fit two double beds, desks, and an entertainment area with television and games console. He stared at the space that once held the cabin Jackson had built for them, wishing it were still standing.
“Remember how we used to hide in Dad’s walk-in closet? It felt so safe in there,” he said.
Dean smiled. “I don’t think we’d fit in there now. I miss our cabin, although you’re right, I don’t think we’d fit in there anymore.”
The memory helped relax Beau’s tight muscles. They’d loved that cabin so much. One of the first things Beau had written in his journal was about the cabin. He had wanted Malcolm to understand what a wonderful father Jackson was. He felt a wave of nausea as he recalled the way he had yelled at Jackson earlier that morning at breakfast.
“Are you mad at me, Beau?” Dean asked, his voice sounding uncertain.
How could he ask that? Dean was the one thing that was right in his life.
“Not mad at you. It’s you and me against the world. Nothing will hurt you again, I promise. I just wish everyone would leave us be.”
His thoughts wandered to Malcolm and Drake, and he wondered what they were doing. Beau hadn’t looked at his emails and wasn’t sure if Malcolm and Drake were still reaching out to them.
Picking up on his thoughts, Dean blinked back tears. “I miss talking to Drake and Malcolm. I can’t help wondering what would have happened if we had taken our collars off. Would we have been found?” His voice broke with deep emotion.
Beau pulled Dean toward him until his head rested on his chest, the damp tears falling onto his skin. “Shh, don’t cry.”
Dean sniffed. “I can’t explain it. It’s not like we were in a relationship or anything, but I liked their emails. I thought we were getting close. It was something real, you know?”
“I think they were just being kind. They made it perfectly clear that we were just friends. If I thought for a minute we had a chance with them, I
would phone them right now. It’s me and you, Dean. We don’t need anyone else.”
Beau was so lost in his thoughts, he never noticed that Dean didn’t respond. Running his hands rhythmically through Dean’s hair, he went back to staring at the ceiling, his thoughts going back over the abduction.
It had felt like hours, but they had only been missing for a little over two hours. Beau glanced down at his arm. When the bar had connected with his forearm, the pain had been intense. He had stared at the bone pushing through the skin, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.
His stomach had lurched as he was thrown into the van, every jolt causing pain to shoot up his arm. Mindlessly he had reached for Dean, screaming when the sudden movement of the van jerked his arm.
One of the men had held a knife to Dean’s throat. “Shut ya trap, kid, or I’ll cut your brother.”
Dean’s frightened eyes had widened with alarm. Beau had worried he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet, but he knew he had to try.
“I’ll be quiet. Please don’t hurt him,” Beau had promised.
The man had laughed. “That’s a good boy,” he said, releasing Dean.
The men had worn masks, and Beau had hoped that meant they were planning to let them go eventually. Holding his arm against his body, he had to bite his lip to hold back the screams each time the van went over a bump or made a sharp turn.
Dean had leaned into him. “The collars…” he had whispered.
They had known the collars had trackers in them. He had wondered how long it would take for them to be found.
“No talking,” one of the men had said before turning to his companion. “This is going to be our biggest score yet. Jackson Xavier is loaded. He’ll pay anything to get his precious boys back.”
He was right. Beau knew that Jackson wouldn’t hesitate to pay for their safe return. But what would happen to them in the meantime?
