by H. M. Wolfe
Smiling, Alasdair left his comfortable spot on the bed, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Once in front of Ardan’s room, he let out a long breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then softly knocked on the door. No sound whatsoever came from the room, so the redhead turned around, intending to go back to his room.
“Sorry, I wasn’t ready. I just finished showering and was undressed, so...” Ardan’s voice made Alasdair turn around and head back to the man’s room.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” the redhead spoke in a reassuring voice, examining the man’s expression. He had a troubled look in his eyes, his jaw clenched, arms rigid, hands balled into fists. “You need a massage,” Alasdair remarked as neutral as he could.
“I know you have a lot of questions,” Ardan said, looking straight into the kid’s eyes. “And I’ll answer all of them but not tonight. Let us put all this behind us, even if just for a few hours. I need that time, but I’ll also understand if you...”
“Let’s cuddle,” Alasdair replied, climbing onto the bed and sliding under the covers. “I’m sleepy,” he smiled weakly. “I might snore.”
“I’ll throw you out of the window if you do that.” Ardan playfully shook a finger at the teen, a spark of amusement in his sad and tired turquoise eyes. “Let’s sleep, little redhead.”
After only a few minutes, Alasdair’s back relaxed against the man’s chest, and judging by his even breath, the boy was fast asleep. Indeed, just as he’d warned about half an hour earlier, a little noise escaped from time to time through the teen’s slightly parted lips, making Ardan smile and caress his soft, curly, red hair.
Alasdair shifted, so the man unwrapped his arm from around the kid’s waist so he could move freely. In his effort to roll to his back, the boy got himself tangled in the blankets, pulling them down. Ardan waited for a while, then carefully straightened the covers, tucking Alasdair in.
Ardan thought he’d fall asleep right away and wake up in the morning, if not completely recovered, at least ready to start a new day without looking back. However, he couldn’t be more wrong because Derek’s words roiled inside his mind like a hive of furious bees, making him doubt anything and everything.
The pale, white-haired boy had been found by his associate’s men, abandoned somewhere outside of the city and left there to die like he was an animal. When he was finally able to talk, Ardan’s associate found out his name, Bailey, and the fact that he was the slave of his archenemy. That man was also the one who, indirectly, orchestrated Derek’s attempted coup.
What if the boy had volunteered to be subjected to that cruel treatment, only to make his story more credible? After all, there were a lot of slaves who got emotionally attached to their masters, even if said masters were sadistic bastards. However, none of them would’ve gone as far as to let themselves branded and humiliated like that.
Ardan hated himself for what he was going to do to that poor soul, but he needed to be sure. No matter how innocent and broken Bailey looked, the man couldn’t trust him based only on his appearance, not after what happened earlier. He had to make sure, and with that thought in mind, Ardan slowly got out of the bed, careful not to wake Alasdair.
Sometime in the night, the redhead woke, surprised to see the other half of the bed empty. At first, he thought the man had gone to the bathroom, but there was no light coming from under the door. Patting the spot next to him, the redhead felt it was cold, meaning Ardan had been gone for quite some time.
Alasdair tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t. He had to find out where the other occupant of the bed had gone and why it was taking so long for him to come back. Getting out of bed, the redhead left the room, walking down the empty corridor. It was dark everywhere, except the room at the end of the hallway.
Remembering what room that was, Alasdair sped up the pace, his heart hammering in his chest. The door was cracked open, so he could peek inside without being noticed. And there, he saw them. The white-haired boy, Bailey, laid on the bed, naked, legs spread, whimpering while Ardan was touching his navel, crotch and scrotum. Then, he turned the boy onto his stomach, running his finger between his ass cheeks.
It was more than Alasdair could endure. As quietly as he could, he went straight to his room, changed into jeans and a t-shirt, looked around the room once more, then left. The redhead had a precise destination: Leon’s home. He was going to ask his protector to take him to his family. No matter how bad they might be, he never intended to come back to this place of betrayal and heartbreak.
CHAPTER 11
After spending a couple of days at Leon's, Alasdair finally decided to give a chance to his family and asked the man to take him to them. There he met his father's younger brother, Rayne, a brilliant medical researcher, who was a single father of two, a thirteen-year-old boy named Gerrard and a cute, six-month-old baby girl by the name of Sophia. The redhead felt an instant connection with the man, who took him into his heart and home.
Alasdair laid in bed, in Rayne’s house, reading a medical book he’d borrowed from the impressive library of his uncle. According to his cousin Gerrard, it was nothing compared to the huge one they had at the family mansion in Connecticut. The redhead heard so many great things about it, from so many sources, all the stories making him very curious and eager to visit the place.
Checking his notes again, Alasdair decided it was time for him to take a short break, so he put the book aside and went to the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich. With Rayne leaving early to go to work and Gerrard spending time at his cousin Daniel's place in the company of Daniel's older son Gabriel to study intensively, Alasdair had the house at his disposal all morning and most of the afternoon.
He used the time to read a lot, mainly but not only medical books, wander around the property or visit his uncles and cousins living in the area. When he didn’t do any of those, Alasdair spent hours analysing his feelings or meditating on the most recent changes in his life as he did that morning after eating the sandwich and washing the plate.
In the two weeks since he left The Base, the kid had realized what a great family he had and how much time he’d wasted by not getting to know them sooner. First, it was Alastair, his loving, wise, supportive grandpa, who always made time for the redhead, listening and talking to him. Also, he was fiercely protective, demonstrating that only two days after Alasdair landed in his care.
Out of the blue, his older brother Allen, the same one who abandoned him in New York two years earlier, appeared at the Stark clan patriarch’s doorstep, all milk and honey, concerned about his little brother’s well-being. Not knowing that Alasdair was living with his grandfather, the goddamn liar had the nerve to invent a story about how his brother, a bad-tempered, disrespectful brat, ran away from home.
After listening to him, the former CIA director revealed the redhead’s presence to a petrified Allen, ordering him to leave the penthouse and never return. Then, he took Alasdair into his arms, assuring the boy that as long as he and the others had living breath in them, he was safe.
Another thing the kid realized was that he had great uncles and cousins. Rayne always made time to discuss with him, to explain unfamiliar notions and concepts. And there was also Sebastian, who, just like Alasdair’s grandpa, radiated protectiveness and affection. He was the best pilot of the elite special ops division known as the Black Scorpions.
Last but not least, the army of cousins showed the boy kindness, affection and support, helping him to start afresh and to put everything behind him. Not everything because the kid missed the guys at The Base: Landon, in whose presence he always felt safe, Armand, who reminded him so much of Ezra, and Ross, who was so compassionate and understanding, yet so lonely.
And during those weeks, Alasdair realized he missed Ardan. A lot. He missed seeing the man’s face, listening to his voice, missed everything about him. And it was frustrating because the guy’s betrayal hurt like hell, even after two weeks. No matter how hard he tried, the redhead couldn’t erase thos
e images from his memory: the man he had started to have feelings for, roaming his hands all over the naked, white-haired boy.
And yet, Alasdair thought, his grandfather was right; he should’ve talked to Ardan before he left, should’ve confronted him instead of disappearing into the night without a word. The redhead realized he’d acted foolishly, but there was nothing he could do to turn back time, no matter how much he wished it.
“Hello, Alasdair? Are you home?” Seymour’s familiar voice made the redhead flinch as he wondered how the man had known he was there. Then, the kid came to his senses, realizing that it was probably his uncle Rayne who shared the information. Yeah, those two have an even more complicated relationship, he thought.
“I was in the kitchen, just finished eating. Come on in.” The redhead opened the door wide, letting the young man into the house. “Do you want something to eat? Uncle Rayne won’t be home till late in the afternoon, but I don’t mind you hanging around, waiting for him together.” Alasdair smiled shyly.
“Actually, I came here to talk to you about something very important,” Seymour said, looking into the kid’s intense green eyes. “It’s something I want to ask from you as a personal favor.”
“No, don’t even go there!” The redhead cut him short with a gesture of his hand. “If he cared, he would’ve come in person instead of sending messengers. Look, Seymour, I respect you a lot, but I’m afraid this time we aren’t on the same page. Go tell your friend...”
“Ardan wants to see you, Alasdair, but he can’t just barge in here, uninvited. That’s why I’m here. My friend needs both your permission and Rayne’s blessing, that’s why he sent me first.”
As Seymour spoke, the redhead examined him closely, and what he saw made his little heart ache. The man was in bad shape, the dark heavy bags under his eyes marking the countless nights he’d spent staying wide awake. His whole appearance spoke of despair, utter defeat and a deep, heavy sadness. But above all, Seymour was concerned, and most likely, not for his own well-being.
Almost without realizing it, Alasdair started thinking about Ardan. How did he feel? Did he sleep well at night? Did the white-haired boy make him happy? Was that why the man wanted to talk to him, to let the kid know it was over? What else could it be?
“Well, I don’t want to see him,” the kid said again after a long pause. “There’s no place here for Ardan and his lies. You can tell him those exact words. I don’t have anything against you, Seymour, but please, don’t mention the name of this man in my presence, or else I’m not going to be your friend anymore.”
“Ardan is my friend, just as you are. In fact, no. He’s more than anyone will ever be for me and the others he’s rescued, whose life he protected by giving up on almost everything: his physical integrity, self-esteem, sanity... You have no right to ask me not to mention his name, in front of you or in anyone else’s presence.” Seymour’s voice was a combination of ice and fire, sternness and passion, leaving Alasdair surprised.
“Why does he want to have this talk? Why now, after two weeks, and not sooner? Does he need my blessing to go and fool around with the white-haired kid, to touch him all over? Permission granted!” The redhead was on the verge of crying, the memories of that night painfully engraved in his memory.
Seymour looked at the boy. He was hurt and angry, a dangerous combination. The man was hellbent on making him agree to meet Ardan, so he had to use every weapon in his arsenal. “My friend is only a shadow of the man you knew, each day worse than the previous one. The spark of life in his eyes is gone, there’s only pain and emptiness there. I’d gladly take his burden and carry it myself, but he doesn’t let me. He always takes everything upon himself.”
Alasdair was shocked by Seymour’s words and the tone they were spoken in. He never would have imagined that Ardan suffered so much because he’d left The Base without an explanation, without leaving a note behind. While he understood why the man killed so easily in cold blood, the redhead couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried, find a justification for what he saw that fateful night.
Looking at Seymour, who patiently waited for him to start talking again, Alasdair had an idea. He would agree to meet Ardan on one condition, he thought, smiling inwardly. The redhead couldn’t wait to see how the other one would react to it, so he finally spoke.
“You and my uncle Rayne have feelings for each other, don’t you, Seymour? I’ve noticed the signs. I think you love him, and I know for sure he loves you back.” Alasdair winked.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the young man replied, but his voice didn’t sound very convincing. “Besides, what’s that have to do with you meeting Ardan?” Seymour frowned, confused.
“It has very much to do with it.” Alasdair grinned. “If I agree to meet him, you have to talk to my uncle, tell him what you feel. And if the two of us get together again, you and Uncle Rayne have to form a couple too.”
“Listen, I like Doctor Stark a lot, I really do. It’s something I’ve never felt before with anyone. But I have a very dark and complicated past behind me, and it’s the last thing Doctor Stark needs...”
“Why don’t you let Doctor Stark decide for himself what he needs and what he doesn’t?” Rayne spoke in a deep, somehow raspy voice, making the two men flinch violently. Engaged in their conversation, they hadn’t noticed the man standing in the doorway, listening to what they said.
“Um... hello, Uncle Rayne.” Alasdair was the first to react. “When did you come home? How long were you listening to our conversation?” the kid dared.
“Long enough to know both of you are right,” the doctor replied, amused by how his nephew hadn’t lost himself. “And long enough to message Leon, telling him to come here and give you a ride to wherever that Ardan guy lives. Meanwhile, you and I have to talk, Seymour, and since the house will be at our disposal...”
Casting a suggestive look in Alasdair’s direction, Rayne ushered him out of the house where Leon was already waiting for him. The man wasn’t alone, Ezra and Darien greeting the redhead when he climbed inside the vehicle. The kid’s heart melted at the sight, mentally thanking his former protector for bringing the guys along, in case he needed moral support.
Seymour must’ve called Landon when they were heading to The Base because the guy was waiting for Alasdair. Giving the redhead a warm welcome hug, the guard led him through the huge yard to a part of The Base he’d never visited in all the months he’d lived there. Stopping in front of a door, Landon softly knocked three times and cracked it open, gesturing for Alasdair to go inside, then left.
“Welcome to where everything started,” a voice the redhead barely recognized as belonging to Ardan greeted him. “Sit down, please.” He gestured to a chair. “Thank you for coming. I want to make it clear from the start: I don’t want your pity. I don’t even ask you to forgive me. All I want is for you to listen and try to understand.”
“I’ll do that.” Alasdair nodded, shocked to the core by the man’s appearance and the efforts he made to hide the shake in his voice.
“I ceased to exist at the age of twelve when a man appeared at our house, examined me from all angles, then, with a look of satisfaction on his face, gave my father three big rolls of bills. He returned the next day, bringing more money and taking me with him. That’s when I found out that my parents had sold me to that man.”
“Sold? Like a piece of furniture? Like a dog or a horse?” Alasdair looked petrified atthe man in front of him, who just nodded.
“I was auctioned off a couple of times more, then me and another six boys, all first quality merchandise, were taken to a facility outside of the city. I don’t remember exactly what city it was, though. There, they told us that we were bought to serve the rich and powerful, to become the perfect instruments of pleasure for their most depraved fantasies.”
“You were... they... when you were twelve?!” At that point, Alasdair’s little heart wrenched in pain. He would’ve forgiven Ardan even if he had caught him
in the act.
“No, not then. A year later. During that time, they taught us all kind of things, made us watch videos but never touched us. However, the smallest sign of defiance, of disobedience, was severely punished. There were some boys who fought back, and they sent them to the lab, a hellish place where they were subjected to horrible experiments. That goddamn place still exists, the lab of horrors, and it is run by Conroy Winters, a so-called scientist, in fact, one of the sickest, most perverted and twisted-minded bastards I’ve ever met. I was terrified at the idea of being sent there, so I obeyed every command. A few days before my debut, another lot of boys were brought in, Seymour, Landon and Carlin among them. Carlin was the youngest, he was barely nine.”
Alasdair left his seat, went to Ardan and, without a word, put his hands around the man’s neck, resting his forehead against that of his friend. The redhead wanted to kiss all that pain away, to soothe it with sweet words and caresses, but he also was aware that Ardan wouldn’t allow that until he was of age, and now he knew why.
“One night, the guards got drunk and entered the small boys’ dorm room, taking four of them, Seymour included. They were too drunk to hurt them, but one of the scumbags poured brandy on one of the young boys, setting him on fire just for fun. That night, I decided to run away. However, I realized that it was going to take some months, even years.”
“The boy they set on fire was one of your friends, the boys who accompanied you, isn’t it?” Suddenly, realization hit Alasdair. “Seymour? They set that poor soul on fire?”
“Yes, it was him. I took care of the burns as good as I could, but I had to think of another way of protecting him. In the meantime, at the auction, I hit the jackpot, drawing the attention of the big bad boss himself; a sick, perverted, black-hearted bastard known as BB. He did horrible things to me, and I started to cry and begged him to stop. Apparently, he liked it because he kept me around.”
