Page 16 of Memories of the Dark

He went to the door, cracking it. “That’s it, guys, you can come in. Take this piece of trash out of here and get him in the basement in the company of the rats. Flint, I want to talk to you. The boys won’t need your help anymore.”

The young man nodded, closing the door behind the two henchmen carrying Greenwood downstairs. “I wanted to talk to you, too, brother. You are worrying me. Did this Fergus guy really mean so much to you? I mean, you hadn’t even met him in person, all you have are some photos and still, I haven’t seen you so affected by someone’s death since...” Flint stopped, covering his mouth with one hand. “Sorry, brother, I didn’t want to...”

“Since mom passed away because I couldn’t offer her the best medical care money could buy. It’s not the same, I know, but Fergus didn’t deserve to die, either. He didn’t harm anyone. Besides, I was going to marry the guy, did it ever occur to you that I may have feelings for him?” Seamus spoke in a melancholic voice, his eyes clouded with sorrow.

“I thought it was an arranged marriage, no feelings involved, a contract where each of you keeps his part of the deal, and that’s all. What’s love and affection got to do with it?” Flint shrugged, his expression a little confused.

“It has very much to do. A spouse is someone you should take care of, protect and respect, in and out of the bedroom. Abuse of any type is out of the question, you have to learn what they like and give it to them.” Seamus let out a sigh, pausing for a moment. “One of these days, we’re going to have an extensive discussion on the subject. You’re going to get married at some point, and there are still a lot of things you need to know.”

“Like you said, it can wait. I’m not ready, and I don’t think I could walk in your shoes, either. I can deal very well with managing the legit companies you created, but I don’t think I’m the best choice as Tobias’s guardian. I know he’s our little brother and needs to be protected, but...” Flint shook his head, speaking in a regret-filled voice. “Sorry, I can’t do this.”

“Running a company is all about communication, and if you consider yourself fit for this job, reaching your younger brother, your own flesh and blood, shouldn’t be that difficult. You never made a secret of the fact that you can’t stand Tobias, but if I’m going to be convicted, you only have one another. He’s angered, pained, lost, vulnerable, and in need of help. Talk to him and find out what makes him act the way he does.”

“I will if you also promise me to take care of you and start looking for a good criminal law attorney who can help you in the eventuality you are accused of something. We need you out of jail, all of us.” Flint went next to his brother, hugging him tight.

Seamus nodded, then ushered his younger brother out of the room. After taking one more look around, he stepped outside, too, moving to what all those working for him knew as the office, a little room with a desk, a computer and a few chairs. There, Paddy Flannagan, the drug dealer’s right hand, was waiting for him, bringing quite interesting news.

Apparently, the Steel Riders, the biker gang that unknowingly carried out Seamus’s plan of getting rid of almost all drug dealers in the city, was about to forge an alliance with Ardan MacNamara. One Fabian Bloom, who acted as The Base’s leader’s secret advisor, was going to visit the bikers’ bar the following day for preliminary negotiations.

MacAtee frowned at the mention of the advisor’s name, which sounded familiar. After a few seconds of thinking, a wide smile appeared on his face as he recognized it as belonging to one of Cortez’s associates, who was in fact an undercover agent of sorts. He manipulated the Colombian into helping him to escape from jail and pretended to offer his own son to the drug lord to win his trust.

Fabian Bloom and Ardan MacNamara, now that’s what I call a winning team,Seamus MacAtee thought, smiling. Seeing his boss’s good disposition, Flannagan told him the other news he was bringing. Apparently, Fergus Trevellyan had a child, a son named Nico, whose existence was kept secret for seventeen years by the family’s lawyers.

Until a few weeks earlier, the kid and his mother lived in England but moved to New York City and were currently under Fabian Bloom’s protection. From what the man spying on him could tell, the teenager was very friendly, ready to help, polite and always with a small smile on his face but quiet and shy at the same time.

At that point, a thought crossed MacAtee’s mind: he’ll wait until Nico Trevellyan comes of age, then will ask for his hand in marriage. The drug lord had learned from his mistake, and he was going to go straight to the boy’s loving, protective uncle Ardan instead of dealing with the pile of garbage Godfrey MacNamara was.

But first, he had to go and see Ian Saint-Clair, the hotshot special prosecutor running the DA’s Office and convince him to go for a plea bargain. MacAtee had enough information to put half of the city’s drug dealers behind bars and was hoping to get a maximum of two years in prison. In the meantime, Nico Trevellyan would come of age, and, once out of jail, he’ll start to properly court the boy.

“Thank you, Flannagan, and sorry for not letting you know more often how much I appreciate your loyalty. I’ll make sure it gets properly rewarded.” MacAtee left his seat, patting the other man on the shoulder. “And now, I would like you to accompany me to the basement. I have a surprise for the rat in there.”

“Sure, boss. And don’t worry about me not getting rewarded. I’d happily do it for free because I know your mind and heart.” The short, freckled man smiled, his eyes filled with devotion and admiration.

Ten minutes later, the basement’s door opened with a loud creak, and the two men let themselves in, making Greenwood wake up from his slumber. “Hey, prick, I have news for you.” A satisfied smile appeared on MacAtee’s lips as he advanced into the improvised prison cell. “My beautiful husband-to-be, the one you murdered in cold blood, has a son, who is the spitting image of his father.”

“It... it can’t be, you are a bloody liar! I had the pathetic wimp on a very short leash. There was no way he could fool around, the drivers and bodyguards were on my payroll. I don’t know who told you that, but it’s bullshit!” In spite of the efforts he made not to show it, Greenwood’s voice was shaking, doubt and fear mixing in his eyes.

“Tell him, Flannagan.” MacAtee turned to the short man, who nodded to the prisoner. “You know, I intended to beat you to death, like you did to poor Fergus, but I’ll let you live and witness the day I and his son become husbands.” With these words, MacAtee, followed by his right hand, left the basement, slamming the door behind him.

CHAPTER 14

Fergus shifted in bed for the hundredth time during the last half an hour but sleep still eluded him, although it was way past midnight. He lay in bed, hands on his chest, staring at the ceiling and thinking about his and Everly’s situation. It had been a week since everything had started, since both of them felt out of place in that house, among those happy people.

From the first second he’d seen Xavier and Dehaan stepping into the kitchen, smiling and holding hands, Fergus knew the days when he could spend time in Dehaan’s company were over. The man had a boyfriend, someone who deserved his undivided attention and affection. Everly felt the same, so they tried to avoid the happy couple as much as they could.

At some point, Fergus even considered moving out, but with no money to pay for the rent or qualifications that would allow him to get a job, he dropped the idea almost immediately. Besides, the Mills would have wanted to know why he made such a decision, when he had a safe, warm place to stay, and he would have nothing to say to them.

Fergus shifted again, sighing. All he ever wanted was a man who called him his own, someone he could give himself wholly to, and who would show him affection. The innocent, naive nineteen-year-old boy he once was had thought Greenwood could give him what he so desperately craved, but it was an illusion.

Then Dehaan had appeared in Fergus’s life, shy, taciturn, so much like himself, and he’d believed they were destined to be together at some point. Everly saw in Xavier the man who could take care of his needs in that special, different way he craved but didn’t dare to admit.

For many years, he had been in charge of Fergus’s life, making decisions in his name, signing contracts and negotiating deals, the embodiment of the alpha male, always in control of the situation. Deep down, he wanted to take a break from all the responsibilities and rest his head on a man’s thigh, kneeling at his feet, eyes closed.

Fergus’s idea of love included romantic, candlelight dinners, long walks under the moonlight, holding hands with the man of his dreams, sweet words whispered in his ear in a gentle voice and tender lovemaking. Had the circumstances been different, he could’ve received everything he yearned for and then some from Dehaan.

Everly, on the other hand, wanted someone who would possessively growl in his ear, running a big, rough hand through his thick, silky, dirty-blond hair, grabbing a fistful and locking eyes with him. The man Everly dreamed about would tie him up and take control of his body, making him beg for his cock.

Their lovemaking would be rough, quick, urgent, turning his blood to hot lava, or painfully slow, taking him to the edge, only to pull him back, again and again. Everly longed for the kind of man who would always remind him who’s in control, but who would also generously reward his obedience with kisses and cuddles. In another time and place, Xavier could’ve given him everything he yearned for.

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