Stolen Innocence

by Beverly L Anderson

  Devan stared for a moment. “Keith, sorry about your brother. Connor wasn’t a bad guy, but he was fuckin’ stupid to do what he did.”

  Keith agreed with him. “Yeah, well, ‘e thought he could buy his way out. I told him he couldnae. I guess yeh found out Rian has a new treasure?”

  “I told you if it happened again, I couldn’t handle it. I can’t fuckin’ watch it again. I won’t.” Devan’s hands flexed into fists several times just thinking about it. He swore he wouldn’t watch someone else be tortured to death like this.

  Keith heaved a deep breath, running a hand over his hair. “He’ll kill yeh, yeh know that,” he stated. “Yer just as stupid as me brother Connor was. Yeh can’t leave, Sully. Yeh just can’t, y’know it.”

  “Well, I’m fuckin’ going to fix this.” Devan stared at the other man. “Are you going to stop me?” It was not so much a question as a demand.

  Glancing up at a point over Devan’s head, Keith chewed his lip for a second. “Just...make it quick. I know yeh can do it in one hit. Maybe ‘e won’t kill me if he thinks I tried to stop yeh.” He spoke softly before moving to attack Devan. Devan resisted the urge to smile since Keith was a doctor and had no idea how to fight. Him seriously attacking anyone was laughable.

  “Thanks,” Devan whispered, grabbing him easily and landing a hard blow to the back of his head. He gently lowered him to floor.

  As the immediate danger had passed, Devan stood up straight and breathed out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He turned back to see both Carmine and Varick staring at him with a look of disbelief. He smirked at them. “What? You think fucking is all I know how to do?”

  The two of them exchanged a look and went after Devan as he headed for the stairs. They followed the huge staircase up and around, headed down the hallway, and passed several closed doors along the way. Devan noted the almost deathly silence of the place at this time of night. They came to the office door with both a keycard and code lock. Devan pulled a card out of his wallet and used it unlock the door. He quickly opened the door and closed it as soon as they were all in the room. Devan’s nose wrinkled, and he closed his eyes, knowing exactly what the scent was. It must not have been long. He couldn’t help but thinking if he’d gotten his head right sooner maybe he could have gotten here before...

  “Hey, aren’t we in a hurry?” Varick whispered in the dim light. The room had skylights, so the slivered moon and stars showed through enough they could see without additional lights.

  “Sorry, just I had hoped we’d get here in time.”

  He led their trio to a door on the other side of the room. He looked over the code lock and bit down on his lip. It was time to see if he could get inside the mind of the twisted mother fucker. Devan took a breath and typed in a code.

  “Incorrect Code,” read the green glowing readout.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “I thought that would be it.”

  “You gotta know, Devan,” Varick whispered. “Just think. You know this fucker.”

  “I tried his wife’s birthday since that’s the code for the office door,” he replied just as quietly. “Maybe...”

  He muttered numbers to himself as he put in another code. “Fuck, not his oldest kid’s birthday,” he growled, resting his forehead against the door.

  Not his wife. Not his kid. He only had one more chance before the thing locked him out and wouldn’t open without the master key. After coming this far, he couldn’t let this stop him. He had to figure this out. He had to. This was where he kept the boys he abused as a substitute for the little boys he wanted to hurt. This was where he hid his greatest shame. He blinked and stood up. Of course. He wouldn’t want this room connected with his family. This was connected to the idea he was saved.

  “Wait...”

  He leaned over the keypad again. “2, 5, 17, 18,” he said slowly as he pressed the numbers. There was an affirmation beep and it read “Entry Granted.”

  Varick over looked at Devan. “What was it?”

  “Second Corinthians, chapter five, verses seventeen and eighteen. ‘Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation’.” Devan paused, thinking over the scripture. It was ridiculous to think the answer had been about his forgiveness. “He thinks he’ll be forgiven because he believes what he’s doing is in God’s name. He’s fucking stupid. If his God is real, he’d never forgive someone like Callaghan, no matter how much of the Bible he quoted.”

  As he pushed open the door, Devan realized there was no light in here at all. After fumbling with his phone for a minute, he got the flashlight app to come on. His chest ached with a heavy twinge of regret.

  “Fuck,” he exclaimed. This was the very thing he had hoped to avoid. He moved into the small room and reached for the chain attached to the wall.

  The other two followed him. Outside the intense light from the LED, it was hard to see much. The bed and its occupant were clearly visible. Devan figured this was indeed their doctor. There wasn’t enough room for Varick and Carmine to move closer by the bed with him. Devan put the phone in his mouth, focusing the light on the attachment point in the wall above the bed. He picked the lock which secured the chain with skillful ease. Fucking easy lock, he thought and put the chain down quietly. Their doctor was in a fitful sleep, but as soon as the light hit his face his eyes opened. He jerked away from Devan and the light, pulling the clinking chains with him as he pushed himself against the wall. The pink blanket wrapped around him slipped down, revealing his bruised upper body.

  “Kieran!” Varick slowly moved forward enough so he could sit down on the end of the cot. “Hey, you remember me?”

  Kieran blinked rapidly for a few seconds, staring at Varick with a blank look. Devan could tell he was trying to focus on Varick’s face. After a minute of silence, the doctor nodded at Varick, apparently recognizing the other man. Devan swallowed against rising bile, clearly seeing him for the first time. It was obvious why Callaghan had taken him as a treasure. He had a cherub-like face with a buttoned nose. His dark blue eyes were large, but had a slight almond shape. His hair was a frizzled nest of black on top his head with strands sticking out at every angle. A few of the unruliest pieces of hair fell into his eyes. He was exactly the type Devan would expect Callaghan to take.

  “I’m going to get you out of this, okay?” Devan reached around the doctor’s head and unbuckled the bit gag. He pulled the implement out of his mouth, noting Kieran had a busted lip and crusted blood around his mouth and chin. Kieran opened and closed his mouth several times as he stared between Devan and Varick, obviously unsure about what was happening. “Let me see your hands.”

  Glancing down at his wrists, Kieran nodded and held up his arms. It took Devan a bit longer to get the lock on the handcuff open since his hands had started shaking. He managed to get the left wrist free, and it was enough for now because Devan needed to get of here before he fell apart.

  He looked up to meet Kieran’s eyes. “Did he cuff your ankles?”

  Kieran just nodded at him, remaining unnervingly silent. Devan wished he would speak or at least make some noise; it would alleviate a small degree of his current anxiety to know he was capable of speech right now. Devan pulled up the edge of the blanket just enough to expose Kieran’s feet. He noticed the doctor had one sock and one bare foot, but he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. The oddity of it would have been a bit comical were it not for the purpling bruise on the outside of his bare foot. Devan ignored it and got one of the handcuffs on his ankles to unlock. It annoyed Devan it was taking longer because he was shaking even harder.

  This wasn’t good. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to have a full-blown panic attack before they even got out of this damn room. He was about halfway there when he jerked, feeling Carmine’s hands on his shoulders. He bit his bottom a
nd resisted the urge to punch him. He heard Carmine shush him and felt a squeeze his shoulders for a few seconds before letting go. Devan glanced behind him to see Carmine giving him an encouraging smile. Devan took a deep breath and knew he could do this. He had to do this.

  “Okay,” Devan breathed out as he stood up and turned back toward the door. “Now we just have to get out of here and hope those bastards haven’t come to yet.”

  “I...I do not have any clothes,” Kieran mumbled, looking between the three men. “He...he took them...” Devan felt a bit of relief since he’d finally spoken.

  “Figured as much,” Devan groused, shrugging out of his suit jacket.

  Once he wrapped the jacket around the doctor’s shoulders and helped Kieran get his arms inside, Devan looked at Varick. “Carry him with the blanket. You said he had issues with his legs anyway. We’ll move faster that way. If we’re really lucky, by the time they wake up, we’ll be at the hospital he works at, and hopefully, I won’t be in jail,” Devan instructed Varick.

  Varick leaned over, easily scooping up the lighter man. Kieran grabbed Varick around the neck tight enough for Devan to see the bigger man wince. Then he and buried his face in Varick’s shoulder. Devan put a hand on the doctor’s back, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under his fingers. He looked up at Varick’s pinched face, then glanced at Carmine who had opened the door for them to leave.

  “Let’s go.” Devan led them back out the way they came with as much haste as they could muster.

  To their surprise, and luck, the three men near the entrance were still out. Devan hoped Keith didn’t have too much of a headache tomorrow. The other two goons, he really didn’t care how they felt. As they came to the door, Devan stopped and looked up at the closed-circuit camera over the door. He stopped for a second in the entry and flipped it off with both middle fingers and walked out.

  As they came outside, another thing in their favor was the fact Devan’s car was still there. He hadn’t mentioned the possibility to the guys, but he was glad no one had decided to move it for any reason. He dropped into the front seat and started the car while Carmine opened the rear driver to let Varick put Kieran inside. Varick slid in after Kieran and Carmine jogged around and got in on the other side of Kieran. Devan took off the moment the doors were shut, pausing only to open the gate before he sped up on the highway.

  As he drove, Devan could hear the panicked breathing from the doctor so he tilted the rearview so he could see in the back. Kieran’s face, which previously had been expressionless, was beginning to pale and he was coming dangerously to hyperventilation.

  “Can...can...can...” he stammered. “I...need...I need...” he panted.

  The early morning meant there was little traffic, so Devan was able to glance back and forth between the road and the back easily. Varick pulled Kieran’s smaller body into his arms, crossing his arms over the doctor’s chest and squeezing. Devan recalled Varick had said he liked being squeezed when he was anxious. This definitely qualified as a situation a person would be anxious in.

  “Don’t...do not let go,” he heard Kieran whisper as he leaned his head back on Varick’s shoulder. “Just do not let me go.” Devan heard the sound in his voice, the barely contained panic which was too familiar for words. He swallowed down his own emotions because they were not helpful to anyone right now.

  “I won’t, promise, I won’t let go.”

  Devan’s heart clenched as he drove. Kieran would be safe there, he knew. Varick’s arms were big, thick, and muscled, but they were gentle. There was no safer place, Devan knew. There was a huge piece of Devan’s heart aching, wondering what would have happened if there had been someone like Varick for him when he needed it. Maybe he wouldn’t be in the situation he was in with two Irish mob bosses.

  “Why are you...all of you... What are you doing this for?” Kieran’s soft voice asked.

  Carmine cleared his throat. “Well, that’s a loaded question.” Devan caught Carmine’s eyes in the rearview for a second before he looked back at the road. “Um, so Varick saw the guy take you today...err I guess yesterday, haven’t slept yet so still my today. Anyway, so he had to go all hero and want to go get you out. He, um, called Devan, as you saw, turns out he knows these guys. Well, Dev and me, we been hanging out, with Varick too. So, when we heard what the fucking bastard was like, I couldn’t let anyone go through it, and neither could Varick, so we had to get you out of there. The cops were shit cuz they didn’t catch the bastards who had you, so we decided to take care of it ourselves.” Devan looked up just in time to see Carmine reaching out and tracing a finger over Kieran’s bloody lip. Again, the strange feeling in his chest rose up.

  There was a shake to Kieran’s voice when he spoke. “But...he is going to kill all of you.” Devan couldn’t argue with that. “He...he killed those two guys like nothing...like they did not matter, like he was doing an everyday thing.” The fear in his voice was no doubt genuine. Devan wasn’t surprised he’d been made to watch him murder the other two. “He will come and kill you. He said...he said he had to have me so he did not hurt anyone else...”

  Devan snarled from the front seat. “Fucking goddamn perverted fucking pedophile, how could I fucking not do something before now, I knew it would happen, one day, while I was there, I knew it would happen, fuck,” he growled.

  “Don’t,” Varick order, leaning over Kieran’s form to reach over the seat and brushing it over his head. “Don’t. You’re doing something now, okay?”

  “Too late,” Devan whispered. They spent the rest of the drive to the hospital in silence.

  Chapter Eight

  The Patient and the Distance

  “Sir? Sir, wake up,” came a voice from outside Liam O’Brien’s dreams.

  Muttering nonsensically, he swam up from the depths of a deep, drug-induced sleep. He blinked sleepily and looked up to see Flannán Kearney, his right-hand man. He shook away the sleep, knowing it if it was Flannán, then it was important, and he needed to see to it.

  Dressed in his usual style of a formal gray three-piece suit, Flannán was leaning toward him holding out the red phone. Liam took a minute to get his bearings and sat up to squint at his second. He smirked because Flannan was always in gray or black suits, and with white button-down shirts and solid color ties. The ties alternated between teal green, emerald green, sapphire blue, and very rarely, a deep red. In the entire time the Kearney family had been a part of their organization, Liam didn’t think he’d ever seen the man without a suit and tie.

  Glancing toward the window, Liam saw it was still dark outside. He shook his head at his right-hand’s always pristine appearance and took the phone. As he fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses, he noticed his clock flashed over to 3:48. Who would be calling the emergency line at this time of night?

  “This is O’Brien,” he answered cautiously.

  “Boss, hey.” Liam frowned because the voice belonged to Sully. For him to be calling at this time of the morning, something major had to have happened. The boy was perhaps one of his most trusted people despite his young age.

  Thankfully, Liam had gotten to the young man as a teenager. Sully had gotten mixed up in some drug dealing on the Callaghan side of the river, and very nearly got a bullet in his head for it. Jacob O’Fallon had been an O’Brien Family Captain who was meeting with Rian Callaghan. The meeting had been over an unauthorized incursion by one of the Callaghan boys which lead to the unfortunate death of one of the O’Briens. O’Fallon had recommended a trade with the young man’s life in exchange for disregarding the issue entirely. Instead, he brought Sully back to the O’Brien compound to meet with Liam. The boy had been a Sullivan in name, as had Liam’s late wife. There was no direct relation to his wife’s family, but Sully was still a Sullivan. A Sullivan was still Family to them, even if he wasn’t really blood. He had an Irish temper and penchant for fine Irish whiskey so he fit right in.

  Back then, he’d been nothing but a scared sixteen-year-old cover
ed with bruises he refused to talk about. Liam couldn’t let something like that go, so he asked him to come work for him as a messenger. As hesitant as he had been, Sully had agreed. Perhaps Liam’s manner indicated the boy didn’t have a choice, but Liam could tell he was suffering in some way. Liam knew fear when he saw it. Something was going on with him, and he refused to let him go without knowing what it was.

  Once again, the boy on the phone sounded like a scared kid.

  “Feck me, Sully, what on earth are yeh callin’ at this hour for? And on the emergency line?” Liam felt his worry mounting.

  There was a silence where Liam could hear quiet voices in the background. “Um, yeah, I wanted to give you heads up, but...I gotta flip.”

  Liam’s eyes went wide. “What? Yeh aren’t turning on me, are yeh, boy?” he asked, not believing what he was hearing. Sully wouldn’t turn on him. There was no way someone this devoted would

  “No, Boss, not you. Callaghan, and the only ones who might be able to protect me are the Feds.” The deep sigh on the other end of the phone gave him a sign of how serious this was.

  “Why?” He knew Sully struggled with working close to Rian Callaghan, but that was why Liam wanted him there. He knew Sully couldn’t be corrupted; he knew he wouldn’t turn on him.

  “I stole from him, Boss, and he ain’t gettin’ back what I stole, not ever.” The quiet voice on the other end was more childlike than Liam had ever heard from him.

  “What did yeh steal?” Liam could hear the loud thump of his heartbeat in his ears keenly. He already knew the answer before Sully answered.

  “His treasure.”

  Liam put his hand on his forehead. “Oh, m’ boy, I’m sorry.”

  Five years ago, when Sully first started working as a liaison between the O’Briens and the Callaghans, he’d had the misfortune of walking in on the grotesque scene of the cleaners disposing of a body of a young man. Sully had found out what Callaghan had done and came back to Liam to fall apart. He’d spent a good hour in a near panicked state, telling Liam he didn’t even know there was someone in the panic room. He swore if he’d known, he would have gotten him away from Callaghan at all cost. Sully had blamed himself for not realizing what was going on, and he had sworn to Liam he wouldn’t let it happen again. Liam had assured him he doubted Callaghan would have the virility to continue with his behavior. After all, the old man was pushing seventy. Apparently, his once friend was far more virile than he himself was.