by Kenzi Bond
Beau recalled the next words clearly. The thicker built of the two had said that if the money wasn’t paid, the boys would be sold to someone else. He couldn’t go back to that life. He might have wanted that once, but now he knew differently. They would be taken away from their friends and families. Maybe he and Dean would be sold to different people. The thought had terrified him.
The men had continued to taunt the boys with what they had planned for them. Helplessness and despair had filled him. Even after they had been rescued, he couldn’t shake the feeling of utter vulnerability.
15
Beau
A
n intervention. Of all the stupid things Dean and Beau had to put up with—a family intervention! Beau stared at Joel defiantly, since it was his turn to speak. How dare they! He was so angry he wanted to scream. And if he was honest with himself, he was also embarrassed that they felt the need to speak to him and Dean this way. Of all people, Joel should know how they were feeling. Granted, he didn’t look anything like the Joel they had first met years ago. This Joel was happy, confident, and in control.
“Are you even listening to me, Beau? Enough is enough. You don’t leave the house except to put in time at the charity. I know what you went through when you were abducted was hard, but you can’t let it hold you back like this. Do you want them to win? Is that it?”
The rage that was always lurking below the surface since the abduction raised its ugly head. “That’s fucking priceless. How many times did we drag you out of some shithole where you were drinking yourself unconscious? Did you care about anyone else? No. You only cared about being hammered or letting some loser use you. Well, we’re not getting drunk, and we’re not letting some stranger use us as a hole for their load, so leave us the fuck alone!” Beau knew he had gone too far, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was either rage or remember the helplessness.
Joel’s face leached color until his dark eyes were pools of pain in a white face. He blinked a couple of times as if shocked by what Beau had said. Beau wanted to take it back, he really did, but it was too late. He could see it on the faces in the room. Kasey, who had been quiet until now, stood. He was still holding Joel’s hand in a firm grip. “Beau, I never thought I would say this, but what you just said right now was cruel and hurtful. We get that you’re not in a good place right now, but pushing away your closest friend is not the answer. Quite frankly, I’m ashamed at how you’re behaving.” Kasey tugged Joel to his feet and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I think we need to take five. Come with me to the kitchen and I’ll make you a cup of coffee. No arguments, Joel. We’ll come back when Beau manages to pull his head out of his own ass.”
Beau glanced around the room, refusing to admit he was in the wrong. They’d started this, and if they just left him and his brother alone, everything would be fine. Jackson shook his head sadly and stood. That hurt the most, the fact that he had upset his dad. Lucas joined Jackson, and without saying a word, they left the room. Dean remained silent beside him, but his hand trembled in Beau’s grip. While Beau had found himself angry, Dean had retreated into himself even further.
Only one person was left in the room—Jason Steele. During the intervention, he had remained quiet, letting others do the talking. Jason wasn’t one to give useless platitudes. Beau managed to lift his eyes to meet the cold gray of Jason’s.
“Well, that was unfortunate. You managed to push away the people who care about you the most. But here comes some tough love. You’re nothing special. You aren’t the first people to be kidnapped or suffer at the hands of others. And you certainly aren’t the first ones who were dealt a shitty hand in life.”
Beau felt the rage pushing to get free. His skin felt too tight, and his jaw clenched until it was a physical ache.
“Glare at me all you want, but it’s the truth. You don’t think I don’t know what it’s like to be angry all the time? To want to hurt the people around you so they leave you alone? You have choices. You can continue on the path you’re traveling, filled with nothing but hate and anger, or you can let us help.”
Beau’s thoughts ran. He knew what Jason was saying was true. He was so tired of being angry all the time. He missed his friends, and more than anything, he missed not being afraid. It was a harsh truth, but the anger grew out of his fear.
He felt Dean stir beside him. A slight tug on his hands had him looking over to see Dean’s face, which was streaked with tears. “You’re mean and nasty all the time. You push people away, and I’m so scared you’re going to push me away, too. I tried to stay quiet and not upset you, but you hurt Joel. Don’t make me choose between everyone else and you.”
The words were quiet, but they were like knives slicing Beau open with their meaning. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry. I thought you were quiet because you were hurting, but it’s been me all along. Don’t leave me.” Beau didn’t know how to let go of his anger. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore, so much anguish, so much fear. He reached for his brother and held him tight. He couldn’t keep going like this—he had to try. “I’ll do anything, I’ll tell Joel I’m sorry, just don’t leave me alone.
“I won’t leave you, Beau. I love you. I wouldn’t be whole without you. But we need help. I want to feel safe again. I want to see our friends.”
Jason waited until they had calmed down before speaking. “I think the first thing you need to do is speak to someone. Lucas has helped you in the past. If you’re not comfortable speaking with him, ask him to find someone else. I’m sure he can find a professional that you would be comfortable working with.”
Beau clenched his jaw. Lucas had been a huge help when they were younger, but the thought of talking to someone about the abduction cause a cold sweat to break out over his skin. He knew it would help, like it had when they were adjusting to life away from their father, but he just didn’t want to think about the abduction.
“You don’t have to agree now. Think about it,” Jason said.
“The next thing I think will help is to find a way to make you feel in control again. I know you’ve done self-defense in the past, but a friend of mine runs a course that trains you to be aware of your environment, how to break free from various holds, and how to use things around you as a weapon,” Jason said. A smirk broke across his face. “You’ll like Lincoln, the teacher; he’s a truly remarkable person. He received a head injury when he was five, and it caused changes to his personality. He’s different. He doesn’t understand connections or normal behavior. To cope, he started pretending to be other people. He does a scary impersonation of me.”
Beau didn’t care what the guy was like. He wanted to feel safe again. “When can we go?” he asked Jason.
“Lincoln works two jobs, so his courses only run three times a year, and he’s always booked out. Lucky for you, I have connections, and you start the course this Friday.” Jason gave them a smug look.
Dean small laugh filled the room. It was the first one Beau had heard in a while. “Sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“No, I was hopeful. I’m going to leave and let you talk to the others. Kaden sends his love, by the way. He wanted to be here for you.” Jason stood. “I’ll go say goodbye to Lucas and Jackson.”
Dean laid his head on Beau’s shoulder. Their hands were still linked, and Beau was happy that Dean’s hand had stopped shaking.
“Do you think they miss us?” Dean asked.
Beau didn’t have to ask who they were; Drake and Malcolm were often in their thoughts. “I don’t know, I doubt it. I can’t believe how arrogant we were, demanding to be collared. I just liked knowing we were connected, I guess.”
“I should probably go speak to Papa and Dad. I’ve been such a horrible person. Do you think he can forgive me?”
Dean turned Beau’s face toward his. “Papa promised he would always be there for us. Do you remember how patient he was with us when he first brought us home?”
“Hell yeah. We were totally clueless. Everything
we did was wrong.” His throat tightened with emotion. Who knew what their lives would have been like if not for Jackson and Lucas?
“But you listened, and you learned,” Jackson said from the doorway. “I came to see if you were okay.” He ran his fingers through his long, curly hair. “I’m sorry. Maybe an intervention wasn’t the right way to raise our concerns.” He looked at the ground, unable to meet their eyes.
Beau stood and rushed across the room. Throwing his arms around his father’s waist, he held tight. He couldn’t remember the last time he had hugged Jackson. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve just been so angry all the time.”
Tears filled his father’s eyes. “I think you should speak with someone about what happened to you.”
“That’s what Jason said. I want to, it’s just hard. And as much as I love him, I don’t want that person to be Dad. Do you think he will understand? I don’t want to hurt his feelings,” Beau asked.
Dean let out a huff of air from behind him. “We have nightmares. And the scars on Beau’s arm bother him.”
Jackson took Beau’s arm and raised it to look at the faint scars that ran the length of it. Running his fingers over the slightly raised skin, he looked at Beau. “Does it still hurt? It shouldn’t. Maybe we should get you in to see a specialist.”
Beau pulled his arm free and dropped it by his side. “It’s not hurting. I’m just having trouble dealing with being different from Dean. I know we aren’t the same. Logically, I know we’re individuals with our own thoughts, but I look at the scar, and all I can think is that I’m damaged. I know it’s screwed-up thinking. And people look for the scar now. It’s the first thing they do because then they can tell us apart. It’s like the stupid scar is the only way people can tell it’s me.”
Jackson pulled him into a tight embrace. “I could go on and on about how perfect you are, but you’re the one who has to believe. I will speak with Lucas, and we will get someone to work with you. How about Aaron Roderick? He was the psychologist Kaden recommended to help you when you were trying to adjust to living here.”
Beau remembered Aaron. He also recalled that Kaden had tried to bring Aaron in to replace Lucas as their psychologist. The man had been nice to them. “Do you think Dad will mind?”
“Not at all. He loves you and wants what’s best. He’s waiting in the other room if you want to ask. He didn’t want to come in and make you feel like we were ganging up on you.”
Beau felt like such a fool. He knew his parents were only trying to help. “How about Dean and I make a batch of pancakes? We can all sit down and talk the way we used to when we were younger. I miss our special pancakes.”
Jackson pulled them both in for another hug. “That’s a fantastic idea. Let’s go get your dad and let him know what we’ve decided. I’m sure he’s dying to get a hug from you, too.”
16
Dean
D
ean sat beside his brother in the foyer of Hawkeye Defense. When Jason had first told them about the training facility, Dean hadn’t realized it was a subsidiary of Hawkeye Security. Hawkeye Security had been their security detail for years, until Dean and Beau had decided they were too old to be followed everywhere. He noticed Beau running his fingers along the faint scar on his arm. Reaching for his brother’s hand, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
A woman came around the corner, dressed in a dark gray business suit and high heels and carrying a briefcase. She looked professional and affluent. She charged over to the service desk and slammed her case down with a bang.
“I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want my son being taught by a schizo. Surely you have other trainers here. That man in there should never be around children,” she yelled, pointing in the direction she had come.
Glancing toward the area, Dean spotted a man leaning casually against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. Their eyes briefly met, and the man gave Dean a small smirk. He wore loose gym pants and a black shirt with the Hawkeye Security logo, and he was covered in sweat as though he had been working out. Dean didn’t recognize him. He was average height, with ash-blond hair. Dean couldn’t see the color of his eyes.
“Well? Don’t you have anything to say?” the woman screeched.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Danes. I believe I have already explained that Lincoln Adams does not have a mental illness. In fact, he is one of the partners of Hawkeye Security. Now, do you think he would be made a partner if he posed a threat to anyone?”
This seemed to throw the woman for a second. “But that doesn’t explain why he acts like a different person whenever we drop Junior off!”
The man, who Dean realized must be Lincoln, approached.
“Mrs. Danes, maybe I can help explain. My specialty at Hawkeye Security is undercover work. For the various roles I play, I need to be confident in the persona I am using. I practice my personalities so I can move into a role with ease. I watch people around me to get inspiration. Let me give you a demonstration.”
Lincoln shuffled his feet and slouched his shoulders. He wasn’t very tall, to begin with, but this action made him appear shorter. Tucking his hair behind his ears, he tugged on one of the lobes nervously. He dropped his gaze, and the effect was shocking. He looked nothing like the self-assured man who had first appeared.
“G’day, I’m Gary. Friends call me Gazza. You might have picked up from my accent I’m an Aussie. Everyone expects Australian men to be big, tough guys, you know? A man’s man, if you know what I mean. I blame movies stars like Hugh Jackman and Chris Hemsworth for setting high standards us mortals can’t measure up to. The missus, well, she’s a real beauty—a perfect ten in my eyes, with legs that go on forever. She’s also real smart. How she saw anything in me I’ll never know. Well, the problem is, Junior takes after me. I don’t want him to get picked on like I did because he inherited my weak build. That’s why I brought him here. I heard you were the best.” As he spoke, Lincoln continued to pull on his ear and shuffle his feet. He tilted his head to the side, looking past the woman. When he finished speaking, he gave her a shy smile.
Mrs. Danes’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s my Gazza. You sounded so much like him, I got goose bumps. I’m sorry for everything I said. Please forgive me.”
Lincoln resumed his relaxed pose. “Not a problem at all,” he replied softly as she walked toward the door.
Lincoln turned toward them. The change that came over him was so quick, Dean wasn’t sure what happened. He rolled his shoulders back and stood tall as he walked purposely toward them, almost marching in his precise steps. “I heard the Xavier twins would be joining my class. I understand it’s been a difficult year; however, I believe you will benefit greatly from the class. All I ask is for you to put one hundred and ten percent into your training.” Lincoln’s voice was deeply accented with a Texan twang. Hands on his hip, he looked them up and down. Coming to some conclusion, he relaxed his pose. “I’m surprised we haven’t met before now. We have many friends in common. Name’s Lincoln, but you already know that.” He held his hand out. “I doubt I will remember who is who, but I’ll give it a try.”
Dean took Lincoln’s hand, giving it a firm shake. He wondered if this version of Lincoln was meant to be intimidating. With longtime friends like Jason and Joel, it wouldn’t work on him. “I’m Dean, and this is Beau.”
Beau shook Lincoln’s hand when it was offered to him.
“I have a class that’s just started. I left them doing stretches. Come with me,” Lincoln said before walking off briskly.
Dean couldn’t help but smile at the man. He looked at Beau, and they shared a grin before following.
“Just put your stuff over there and join the line when you’re ready.”
The students started whispering when they spotted Dean and Beau. After all this time, it barely bothered them. It was nothing new. When their whole life was displayed in the news, people thought they knew everything about them.
Dean reached for Beau’s hand, trying to i
gnore the whispers as they joined the line. As the others stared, he reluctantly dropped the hand. The boy to the left of him moved, putting distance between them. Dean braced himself for some derogatory comment, but Lincoln stalked across the floor and stared at the boy.
“John-Henry, why did you move just then?” Lincoln was staring at John-Henry coldly, his brows drawn down as he waited for a response.
“Sir, I don’t feel comfortable sharing the floor with the Xavier twins. They’re not the type of people my dad would want me associating with. Maybe I could move.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Lincoln began.
John-Henry smiled triumphantly at Dean. “Thank you, I knew you’d understand.”
“Please gather your things and make your way to the foyer. I’ll have Brock call your parents to pick you up,” Lincoln said.
“What?” John-Henry spluttered. “Why should I leave? My fees are paid. My dad’s a lawyer, he’ll sue you.”
“You have choices in life, John-Henry. Every choice you make has a consequence. You can choose to stay here and be a decent human being, or you can be a judgmental toad and go home to Daddy. What’s your decision?”
John-Henry looked around him for support, but no one would look at him. “I would like to stay, please.”
“Good decision. Now, apologize to Beau and Dean for your actions.”
Dean thought John-Henry was going to argue. Instead, he turned and held out his hand. “I apologize for being rude.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Lincoln wink at him before walking to the front of the group.
“I would like to make something very clear to all of you. This is an accepting and nonjudgmental environment. Any behavior that is deemed unacceptable will result in your membership being revoked. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the students responded.
Lincoln looked at each student as if checking their sincerity. “Now, last week, I asked you to consider a scenario. What you would do if a man approached you and meant you harm. John-Henry, let’s start with you. What would you do?”
