Page 32 of Memories of the Dark

“Seamus shouldn’t have told Mom to keep that useless little snot. He shouldn’t have loved and pampered him like he did. The little pesky thing needs to go, so I can finally enjoy what’s mine. I was, and still am, very sorry for what I had to do to you, but it was the only way of neutralizing you. Neither of you gave me any options.” Flint shrugged, his voice flat.

“I suspected a long time ago something wasn’t quite right with me, but I didn’t expect my death sentence to come from you. In a strange way, it’s liberating to know I don’t have to do it myself once Seamus goes to prison. That’s why I’m going to make you a proposition. I already thought about two ways of avoiding your brother being hurt by your actions, the choice is up to you.”

“I’ll go for the easy one, of course, although something is telling me I’m not gaining anything either way. Let’s hear your offer.” Flint spoke in the same indifferent voice from earlier, but Flannagan detected the tinge of curiosity in it.

“All you have to do is tell me what points of The Base are going to be attacked first. Then on the day of the attack, you’ll have to lure those so-called allies of yours there and deliver them into Ardan MacNamara’s hands. This will bring the respect of our men and will make you a hero in your brother’s eyes.” Flannagan fell silent, patiently waiting for Flint’s answer.

“A dead hero because you have no idea who those people are. Getting on their good side is a wiser, better choice. If this is the easy way, what does the hard one involve? I mean, what can be worse than gruesome torture?” Flint huffed contemptuously, an ironic smile twisting his lips. “I ain’t no fool, old man.”

“Very well, then. I have here a letter, addressed to Seamus, in your handwriting. It says you decided to take a long vacation, as you need to reflect on your future. You apologize for all the trouble you created and say you realized running the legit companies your brother established is a responsibility you are not prepared for.” Flannagan sighed, shaking his head.

“Wh—what will happen to me, in fact? Where will you take me?” Suddenly, all Flint’s confident, defiant attitude vanished into thin air, replaced by sheer terror.

“In a dark, godforsaken hole in the ground with only rats, bugs and the occasional snakes to keep you company. For my remaining time on earth, you’ll get food and water once a day, and the bucket serving as toilet will be also emptied daily. However, I can’t guarantee that will continue to happen once I’m no longer among the living.”

Flint stared in disbelief at Flannagan, but the expression on the older man’s face remained impassable. “You really mean it, don’t you? I... I choose the easy way. I’ll give you the address of the hotel where the Warthons are staying, is that enough? These two are not fools, they’ll suspect something is wrong if I go there out of the blue.” To Flannagan’s great satisfaction, Flint’s voice became pleading.

“Sounds good. Here’s a piece of paper and a pen, write down the name of the hotel and the number of the room, then you are free to go. I’ve had enough of you for one day.”

Flint nodded, did as told and then stepped out of the room without a word. Hearing the sound of the door closing behind the young man, Flannagan let out a sigh of relief. That was easy, he thought, that worthless creature is even more coward than initially estimated. And because he is stupid and arrogant, he won’t see it coming.

Flint MacAtee’s fate was sealed from the moment Flannagan found out about his plans to eliminate his own younger brother. He couldn’t let one’s greed affect innocent lives, not after what happened with Godfrey’s children. A car accident, a robbery gone wrong, a revenge of his former allies—there were so many creative ways of arranging Flint’s death without arising suspicions.

One last problem to take care before I’m gone, one last obstacle to remove from Seamus’s and Ardan’s way. Once everything was over, The Base would continue to offer food, shelter, love and hope to those poor souls who endured the unspeakable. The one who established the place, together with his twin Fergus and their younger brothers, would be finally able to enjoy the peaceful, happy life they deserve.

CHAPTER 27

“Please, sir, give me the money we agreed on! I... I performed to my best abilities and didn’t give you any reason to complain. Please?” The young prostitute spoke in a shaky, desperate voice, bringing his hands together in a pleading voice.

“Get lost, whore! How dare you to ask money for such a lousy performance? Leave while I’m still in a good mood.” Nigel towered over the boy, who cowered in a corner, eyes wide with fear.

“Where’s the slut? The pill kicked in, and I’m in the mood to ride that tight ass of his.” George Warthon appeared from one of the bedrooms, his cock fully erect.

“He’s still here. Can you believe the pathetic little whore had the nerve to ask me to pay him?” Nigel let out a low, humorless laugh. “Strip and get back to work, bitch! My father doesn’t like to wait.”

“I changed my mind, I don’t need any money, just let me go.” The kid got to the door and unlocked it, then opened it wide before the Warthons could react. “Wh—Who are you? Please, let me go. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear!” The poor boy started to stutter, looking at the small group of men blocking the entrance.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart. You won’t get hurt. We are here for the men occupying the room. My name’s Ardan, nice to meet you.” The stranger’s soft, low voice instantly calmed the boy, who looked in the man’s strange, turquoise eyes.

“Can you please tell them to pay me? I—I did everything the young one asked me to, but he didn’t want to...”

“What happened, bitch, did you change your mind? Get back in here and get ready to have that small, tight ass by Father’s hard cock. Who are you talking to there?” Nigel’s venomous words made the boy flinch, and he turned to Ardan, seeking for protection.

“Lothier, take the poor kid to The Base. He is in great need of food, a hot bath, and, most likely, medical attention. The police should be here any minute. There will be nothing for us to do here, once the two useless piles of garbage are arrested.”

“Arrested? Us? Who is going to do this and under what accusations?” Nigel spoke in an ironic, defiant voice, heading to the entry hall. “Ardan-fucking-MacNamara! How the hell did you get here? It doesn’t matter. I’ll have you arrested for threatening a British aristocrat with diplomatic immunity.”

“You always underestimated the potential of your victims, their strength, iron will and thirst for justice. This, and the low quality of those you chose as allies, brought the downfall of the two of you. Traitors don’t have diplomatic immunity, boy.”

Gasping in shock at the sound of that voice, George Warthon came from the bedroom, where he’d impatiently waited for the boy, and stared at Fabian Bloom, who stood protectively in front of Ardan. The old man offered a grotesque sight with his hard cock tenting his underwear, in stark contrast with the other man’s stern, distinguished, decent posture.

In the blink of an eye, George Warthon understood everything: with all the brainwashing and the other things Alexander Kane subjected him to, Fabian Bloom was never one of them, everything was just an act. With the proverbial patience of the men in his family, he spent years gathering evidence against those who ran the child trafficking ring from the shadow, namely he and his son Nigel.

Then, Bloom joined forces with the most dangerous, revenge-thirsty monster Alexander’s obsession created: Ardan MacNamara. George wondered many times how Kane’s former fuck toy knew where and when to attack, especially over the past years, when all the security measures where doubled and those working for the child trafficking ring were periodically rotated.

Now he had the answer, in the person of Fabian Bloom, who was ready to protect MacNamara with the price of his own physical integrity. Suddenly, George Warthon remembered that one thing he was sure Fabian, Ardan, and the others didn’t know about, and a triumphant, defiant smile appeared on his face.

“You are nothing like a bunch of fools who barged in here like you own the place, playing hotshots and threatening us with this and that, while that goddamn place all of you are so proud of crumbles like a castle of cards.” The smile grew wider, evil satisfaction adding to the man’s facial expression.

---