Stolen Innocence

by Beverly L Anderson

  “He... He is right... He said...he told me I should not go down there... He said I had to stop... He said... He said...” Kieran whispered, trying hard not to get lost in his own head. What everyone else said was rattling about with everything he had heard from the time he was a small child. Lauren reached up and put a hand against the cheek not buried in Devan’s chest.

  “Listen, Kieran, I don’t know you very well, but I know something about things like this. I’ve worked for the FBI for fifteen years. In that time, I’ve seen a lot of things. One thing I know for sure is you are not at fault in any way for what happened to you. The only people at fault are the men who kidnapped you and Callaghan. What that doctor is spouting is victim blaming bullshit, and not one word is true,” she assured, smiling at him softly.

  “We’re going to get you out of here before the today’s over. I’m waiting on approval for a safe house off the grid. I’m sure it will come through. I’ve checked it out, and the location is secure, easy to surveil with cameras and limited manpower on my office’s part. No one is going to know where you are, not even the police or the FBI in my own office. The only people who will know where you are is me, the two agents who are going with you, and the people who are going to protect you.”

  Kieran shook his head insistently. “But... But... I... I do not want to leave the hospital...I do not want to leave them...” he stammered. “I cannot... I cannot leave my work, what can I... I am no good...”

  This time Devan spoke up. “Look, Cutie, we either go so deep into hiding no one can find us, or we’re all dead. And he will take you back,” he said seriously, squeezing him tightly. “I know how he works. And he’s already issued the hits, hasn’t he?” he assumed, looking at Lauren.

  Lauren didn’t speak, but Kieran imagined Devan knew what he was talking about. “Look, this is going to be tough, but we’ll be together, okay?” he spoke, pulling him into him even tighter but keeping the pressure around his shoulders so he did not push into his ribs.

  Kieran had never been so frightened and unsure of himself in his entire life. Everything he thought he knew was falling apart. Thomas was not doing what was best for him; he was doing what was best for himself. Mary was just like him. Could he have been so ignorant for so long? What else was not what he thought it was?

  Thomas had been there as long as he remembered, from the time he was eight or nine. He had been the one to insist on ABA therapy, and the entire experience had been miserable for him the entire time. He had eventually done what they wanted just so they had gone away and left him alone. He complied because if he did not, he would have to keep doing things over and over again. Very quickly he found out the best ways to manipulate the therapists. If he did what they wanted the first time, they questioned it, but if he allowed himself to be “punished” during the session once... They would stop. He got to be very good at acting “normal”.

  Thomas had been the one to say the special school was best for him, and he had been miserable there as well, never fitting in, and finding no one he could connect to among the children there. Most of them had been autistic children who struggled with day to day functions, and only a hand full of children had been like Kieran. The way they treated the children who needed intensive interventions and help bothered Kieran from the start. To him, it felt like they were training them like animals. The ones who were somewhat able to be on their own like Kieran still received similar treatments, but even among them, Kieran was different. And he never learned enough there, with everything focused on behavior. Always training, always training away the very behaviors that showed his autism to the world. He had to stop stimming. He had to replace the behaviors and do things like a ‘normal’ person.

  Thomas had told him not to rock when he was anxious. He told him needing pressure was wrong and he needed to stop because it was not normal. Thomas had told him he should not play games on his tablet when he was stressed. He said it was not normal to do that. Thomas had told him his desire not to be touched was abnormal and he needed to go outside his comfort zone because it was normal. Thomas had told him there was no reason to avoid certain foods because he did not like the texture. He said he had to eat things he did not like because it was normal. Thomas had told him to stop being so sensitive when he said he was upset over something, because normal people did not get upset over those things. Thomas had told him he needed to stop being weird or else no one would like him. He said he had to be normal. Thomas had told him he had to do these interviews because it was good for him. He had told him writing the book would help. He had told him he could not take medicines to help with his anxiety or he could not do surgery. Thomas had said if Kieran did anything he deemed unacceptable he would stop him from doing surgery.

  Thomas had said a lot of things...

  “He... He said it was for...my own good,” he stated suddenly, causing Devan and Artemis to look at him.

  “What was?” Devan asked, a deep frown lining his brow.

  “For me not to act like...me...”

  Kieran was starting to wonder exactly who he was after all this time.

  Chapter Ten

  The PIs and the Safehouse

  Morrigan Seath unlocked the front door with a subtle smile. She had arrived just before the others because she could hear the car coming up the drive. She was happy to be back here, even if the reason was almost as difficult as the reason this house had been built in the first place. She reached down and scratched Shane’s white head. The large dog was mostly white shepherd, but there was a bit of wolf in his line. Shane sat and waited for a command while she stood in the doorway, a million thoughts running through her mind. She reached up and slipped the band around her long dark hair to get it off her neck. It certainly was going to be a long day.

  She glanced back and saw Sherlock’s tall and imposing figure making its way up from the car with Severus and Tiberius following, chatting as they walked. She noticed, as usual, he was pulling a black pilot case with his go-bag sitting on top of it. Sherlock was smiling as he looked up at the house and paused. His dark green eyes roved the place and one hand slipped through his long, red hair. She imagined he was reminiscing. Despite being called at eight in the morning and catching the first flight from San Francisco, he looked awfully spry for his old age, even if he hadn’t put his hair up yet. She might have to fix that.

  “Well, this should be fun,” he said, smiling down at her. “Like the blue, by the way, didn’t say when we videoed yesterday.” He reached out and fluffed her blue-colored bangs where she’d missed pulling them back into her high ponytail.

  “Who got you first, Marco or Mischka?” she asked as she move just inside the door and peeked in. She knew the boys were raring to get into the house and set up, but she liked taking her time. Plus, the weather was nice; it had been cool all day, and now as the sun was slipping lower in the sky and it was beginning to get chilly. Perhaps it was the part of being here she loved best. The hot weather lately was annoying. If she wanted heat, she’d go stay in the fucking golden state.

  “Actually, Mischka beat Marco by half an hour,” Sherlock smirked. “I was surprised to get a call from both. Marco called because he wanted let me know how things were going to go down. You know the paperwork on us is a bitch, so he wanted to make sure I knew how much paperwork he has to do. Doesn’t matter since I am looking forward to some much-needed time with my wolf pup.”

  Morrigan shook her head and let out a dramatic sigh. “Why, Mr. Macintyre, are you propositioning me? Well, I’m sure we can put the playroom to good use,” she winked at him.

  Her stomach flipped when Sherlock smirked at her wickedly. “Yeah, well, I’ll put that ass to good use...” he muttered as he moved past her and further into the house.

  Tiberius pushed around her and followed Sherlock. “Donnae feckin’ wanna hear it...” he mumbled, completely and totally uninterested in hearing about his sister’s antics with her boyfriend.

  He glared around the foyer, ignoring the snort
from Morrigan’s twin, Severus. He ran a hand over his short dark hair and crossed his arms over his chest. Severus came up beside him, smirking in amusement.

  “Ya know, you’re gonna hear that and a lot worse, Ti,” Severus commented as he smiled and then walked out of their eyesight.

  Tiberius sighed, glaring at his slightly taller sibling. “Feck yeh,” he growled. Morrigan smiled because Severus couldn’t help but say something every time Tiberius let his accent slip so obviously. There was a reason he ran the dojo instead of working in the PI office all the time.

  Stopping in the foyer, Morrigan looked around. Everything looked to be the same as the last time they were here. There was always a worry in the back of her mind that someone who shouldn’t be in the house would come in while they were away. She turned to Sherlock. “Lock, want to go down with Ti to get everything to prep the house?”

  “Sure.” He leaned his carry-on suitcase against the wall. “How many rooms you thinkin’ we need?”

  She sighed. “Mischka said there were four protected, and two official FBI agents, so figure they’ll need three of the rooms. Put them up in the east side, we’ll take our usual down here, and lodge the agents down here, closer to the door. Might as well equip all the rooms. We can put Sev and Ti down here since they’re not staying the whole time, and you know those two will want their old room. Lyric too.”

  Sherlock nodded, running a hand though his deep red hair again as he looked thoughtful for a moment. He patted Morrigan on the head with a smirk. She glared at him as he headed over to the basement door. Tiberius stuck his tongue out at her as he followed. Sherlock pulled out the keys and opened the reinforced and alarmed outer door. He punched the code into the second door, reinforced like the other, and it popped open. He jogged down the stairs with Tiberius on his heels, ducking as he went down. He cursed the fact this place was not made for people over six feet tall, hence both of them ducking. He was about to remind Tiberius when he turned and smacked his head into the overhang.

  “Lock, how many times yeh gonna hit yer head on that? I swear,” Tiberius muttered, ducking the overhang with a smirk.

  “Shut up, Ti, or I’ll take your ass to the mat again.”

  “Hey, I’ve been workin’ on my take downs lately,” Tiberius muttered. “Yeh’ve been away for a while, y’know.”

  “Nah, I’ll still drop every one o’ yeh lil’ shits on the square, and yeh know it,” Sherlock said as he walked through the dark gym.

  Tiberius snorted as Sherlock punched in the code for the weapons’ room. After he pulled open the heavy door, Sherlock reached in and slapped the wall switch to turn on the florescent overhead lights. The room lit up and the three large gun racks that dominated the left wall. There was a fourth rack on the right wall, and there was a large table with a pair of chairs that filled the center of the room. The room was windowless and contained only the weapons for the household.

  Approaching the left side of the room, he used the master key to unlock the first gun rack to get the handguns they’d need. Reaching into the small cabinet beside the rack, Sherlock pulled out one of the folded duffel bags inside. He snapped it open and set it down on the central table. He sighed, pulling out twenty of the Glock 22s. There were more in the rack, and he’d pull them if he had to. All the guns were licensed and registered, of course. It was mostly a matter of ease they equipped the house with the same model of gun. That way the kids all knew how to use any gun they picked up. He glanced at the rifle cabinet and figured he’d let Morrigan handle the sniper rifle situation. She was the sniper of their family after all. He handed the gun bag over to Tiberius and grabbed another bag.

  He pulled out a few clubs, sheathed knives, and a couple sets of knuckles from the other cabinet. He’d keep one of the brass knuckles and give the other to Artemis. Not that Sherlock really needed them, but in case of a serious fight, it would help. They were useful to Artemis since he didn’t have the weight to put behind a punch like Sherlock himself did. He grabbed a couple .45 mm for himself and Mischka and a few boxes of .9 mm bullets for the others. The reason he liked Glock 22s was they could use either type of bullet. It was extremely handy when it came to keeping bullets in stock. He looked around to see if there was anything else before they went back up.

  He over glanced to see Tiberius waiting patiently. He smiled to himself. He’d been serious if the boy got lippy. He’d practically raised this bunch of brats, with a little help from his brothers. It had been him who trained them for the most part, and he knew how to take them all down if necessary. Tiberius was the dancer of the crew, long, thin muscles, and a lot of core strength. Boy had a glass jaw, though, and it was always a way to lay him out fast. Running the dojo was Tiberius’s main occupation, and he could train people to fight really well, especially in fast, striker styles of fighting. It didn’t mean his “Uncle” Sherlock couldn’t flat out put him down without breaking a sweat.

  After locking up the gun racks, and the doors on their way out, the pair headed back up to meet with Morrigan again. They got to the first of the upstairs bedrooms and found Morrigan and Shane.

  Morrigan was checking over the window seat. The window seat was made to conceal storage, with a latching mechanism in the back, invisible from the outside. The only way to find it was to know it was there already. She looked up at him as she closed it again.

  “Could you get the bed holsters in the downstairs rooms while Ti takes care of the safes, and I’ll handle everything up here with Sev?” Morrigan inquired. Shane sat beside her feet and watched every move they made.

  “Fair enough, split the work,” Sherlock commented, dropping the bag down on the bed and pulling another out of the closet. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this a few times or anything. He split the weapons and nodded to her before he took off with Tiberius.

  Each bedroom closet was equipped with a small safe inside. This safe could be popped out and thrown in a go-bag quickly. Usually, they kept their papers and a gun in there. The headboards of each had custom holster built to go on the sides, and there was a hollowed-out portion of the box springs where a knife, billy club, or anything that might be needed quickly could be placed. Besides the weapons, rolled into each of the window seats on the second floor were fireman’s ladders. There were three vehicles concealed in the general vicinity, each with two sets of plates, one on them and one stored in the trunk. The keys were hidden in a box under the front driver wheel well which had to be released with a catch.

  Aside from the bedrooms, each bathroom had a dry compartment in the toilet tanks for a gun and knife to be hidden. The kitchen, of course, already had accessible knives, but there was a special holster under the lip of the kitchen island, and another under the small overhang which extended a bit over the sink. The dining room, study, and living room all had similar set ups, several locations where guns were secreted as well as clubs and knives. The couches and chairs in most the rooms had a quick access door built into the side that could only be released if someone knew what they were looking for. Needless to say, Damian had spent a lot of money on the customizations for this house and everything in it.

  Morrigan stopped as she was slipping the last of the weapons in the last bedroom and wondered what life must be like not to have to do these sort of things. Shane watched her intently with his big, deep blue eyes. When he looked like that, she thought he looked very puppy-like. She shook her head and ruffled his fur on his neck. She was still contemplating when Sherlock came in and wrapped arms around her.

  “What’s that weird look for?” he asked, giving her a gentle squeeze.

  “Oh, just thinking, it’s so strange coming back here, and be setting it up again. When’s Mischka bringing these guys?” she wondered, turning around and looping her arms around his neck.

  Sherlock glanced at his watch. “About eight tonight, he said. I’m wondering exactly how deep we’re in this time. He said it was ‘Family business’ so who knows... He wants us all here just in case. I brought the
bag with all the dye and phones and shite. He said Artemis is going to blow a gasket over his hair...”

  She sighed. “He’ll have to deal, you know how he is.” She shrugged. “I guess this is someone important, otherwise he wouldn’t have pulled out all the stops, eh?”

  Shrugging in response, he shook his head. “No idea, Mischka was tight lipped on the phone, as usual. Marco didn’t add much to what he’d said, just sayin’ he didn’t want to talk on the phone for obvious reasons. Ti and Sev went down to get something to eat, so we got a few minutes alone... Well, relatively.” He glanced at the large dog staring at him.

  “Y’know, I missed you while you were gone,” she muttered. “Find anyone interesting to play with while you were in Santa Cruz this time?”

  He looked thoughtful. “Nah, not really. Mostly work and little play out there this time. But, if I’m stuck in St. Louis with my wolf pup, I’m gonna take advantage of it,” he whispered, nuzzling into her neck and biting her collarbone lightly.

  A soft laugh escaped her lips as she wriggled out of his hold. “Ah, now, now, they’re going to be here soon. Come on, Ti’s already getting worried he’s going to see more than he wants while he’s here.” She smirked as she ran down the stairs because she could hear Sherlock growling behind her. Boy, she knew she going to regret being a naughty thing later... Of course, that was the way she liked it.

  KIERAN WAS NOT IN THE best of moods as the day wore on. For one thing, the main FBI agent, Lauren Richmond, had come and taken all three of the others out of the room somewhere else to discuss arrangements for their families and they had not come back. He guessed Artemis had gone with them too, but he was not entirely sure. He was annoyed by this fact for a reason he had yet to understand. The presence of those who were willing to comfort him had become familiar and something he desired.