Page 7 of Memories of the Dark

“Hang in there. My friend is going to call the ambulance. We’ll take you to a good hospital where you’ll get the best available care. Don’t stress over the details. I’ll take care of everything.” Dehaan’s voice was low and reassuring, but the man shook his head.

“No hospital... please. Help Everly. I can’t reach to him. He... is in great pain... is dying.”

CHAPTER 6

“How is he?” Roger ‘Sarge’ Mills, a solidly built, bearded man with cobalt-blue eyes, asked Dehaan, who stepped into the kitchen of Xavier’s parents’ home looking exhausted. “Did you manage to find out anything about him other than his name? What or who is he afraid of, and where is the guy he keeps saying is dying?”

“Otis said he has never, in his entire career as a military surgeon, seen something so horrible, so cruel. You should have seen the look in the poor man’s eyes. He was horrified.” Agatha, Roger’s wife, shook her head, compassion written all over her face. “Otis also told us that whoever did that to the poor boy wanted him to die in pain.”

“After Doctor Garner left, the patient told me his name was Fergus, but he doesn’t remember anything else. I suspect he’s amnesic because of the shock, although he could also be deliberately hiding information from us. I also have the name of the one who did this to him, a certain Blair he’s terrified of.” Dehaan's quiet voice made everyone turn their heads in his direction.

“Son of a bitch! Wait until I get my hands on the rotten bastard. I’ll make him beg me to kill him.” Sarge hissed through clenched teeth, balling his fists under the table as images from eight years before flooded his mind. “What about the other guy? Did he tell you what happened there? The boys searched for him everywhere but didn’t find him.”

“Everly is right here, lying on the bed in your guest room. He is a projection of Fergus’s mind, someone who is very protective of him and steps up every time he’s in danger. I think that Blair bastard drugged Fergus to bring Everly into his power. The matter is far more complex than that, but I’m not qualified to establish a diagnosis.” Dehaan shook his head, a defeated expression in his ice-blue eyes.

“I think you should stay here overnight and possibly also over the next few days because, as you mentioned earlier, he refused to talk in Doc Garner’s presence. I noticed how quick the two of you bonded at the warehouse.” Xavier spoke the last part in a slightly saddened voice, but no one noticed.

“Yes, you’re right. Ma Agatha will give me a sleeping bag, a pillow and some blankets because Fergus’s state makes cuddling impossible. Besides, I don’t think he’s as warm as you were back when I came to live with you.” Dehaan smiled weakly, and that time, it reached his eyes.

“I’ll have your mobile lab installed in the garage by tomorrow evening so you can start working the day after.” Sarge directed a grin to his son’s best friend, who cast him a gratitude-filled look. “I’ve come to know you pretty well. I know you need to keep yourself busy all the time, and the truth is we need your expertise now more than ever.”

“Yes, the situation is complicated, to say the least. Seamus McAtee is a mean, suspicious bastard. Fooling him won’t be so easy. One way or another, he’ll bring the small-time drug dealers under his influence, changing the rules of the game in his favor. Keeping the addicts clean by replacing their stuff with ours and casting a shadow over his reputation won’t be enough. I have to figure out a new way to...”

At that point, Xavier left his seat and stepped out of the kitchen, letting out a long, loud sigh when he thought no one could hear him. As much as he admired his father and the others in the gang for keeping the streets free of drugs, the man hated the idea of Dehaan being so deeply involved in the scheme Sarge devised.

However, they needed someone with solid knowledge of chemistry and pharmacology in order to succeed. The young man, who had inherited a pharmacological company at the age of seventeen when his entire family perished in a fire, volunteered, becoming a permanent source of worry for Xavier, who, over time, had developed deep feelings for him.

He chose not to voice those feelings, fearing he would be rejected by Dehaan, who saw him as a very dear older brother, but that was all. He came out at eighteen, first to Xavier’s parents, then to the biker gang but never mentioned dating or having a boyfriend, although he admitted once his heart belonged to someone.

Eyes clouded by sadness, Dehaan had added that the two of them couldn’t be together, and that was the first and last time he’d brought the subject into the discussion. This evening, in the warehouse, something had changed, Xavier thought, remembering how his best friend had reacted in the presence of that poor Fergus guy. The connection formed between the two was instant and intense, almost tangible, although Xavier doubted either of them realized.

A faint sound coming from the guest room brought the man back from his thoughts, getting his attention, and he decided to go in and check on Fergus. Carefully opening the door, he stepped inside, just when the victim of that horrific act started to thrash his head on the pillow, whimpering, and talking rapidly and incoherently as tears streamed down his face.

Xavier’s heart wrenched in pain at the sight, and he felt an overwhelming need to protect the man lying on the bed, to wrap his arms around that bruised, battered, tortured body and whisper words of comfort and reassurance in his ear, soothing his pain and calming him down. Xavier looked at Fergus’s swollen lip and bruised face and couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was.

From the doorway, Dehaan was watching how his best friend lightly touched the cheek of the man lying on the bed, then placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.This can’t happen, he thought, shaking his head.I can’t let Xavier get too close to Fergus; otherwise, they will end up broken-hearted.He advanced to the bed but turned around and walked back to the door as his friend also headed that way.

“Please, wait. I... have to... I want to ask you something.” Xavier could barely hear the words, the defeated voice of the other man constricting his chest in pain.

“Sure, go on. I promise you that I’ll do my best to help you. For instance, do you want me to get in touch with your family? Maybe they are worried about you, and...”

“No, please, don’t! There is no one but Blair, and... he... he wants Fergus dead. If that... bastard... finds out he survived... Please, help me... to... to protect him.”

“You are Everly, right? Thanks all the gods of the Pantheon you came back from... wherever you were. Are you alright?” Xavier shook his head, mentally facepalming himself for the poor choice of words.

“I’ll get over it, I have to. But Fergus... his world fell apart when... when the only man he loved... told him he... he hated him and wanted him... dead. He thinks no one else will ever want him and sees himself as unworthy... and...” Everly took Xavier by the hand, squeezing it convulsively.

“It’s time for you, sweet boys, to go to sleep. My friend here is tired, too. He should have gone to bed by now. I’ll keep you company for the night. I’m one of those quiet ones, who doesn’t snore or talk while sleeping.” Dehaan’s soft, melodious voice made his friend turn his head, a smile appearing on his face.

“Everly here and I talked for a little. He asked me to help him protect Fergus, and I promised to do so. Good night, fellows, sleep well.” Xavier ran the pad of his thumb over the back of Everly’s hand, carefully placing it on the bed.

“Before you slide into the land of dreams, please go to the kitchen for five minutes. Mister Mills wants to talk to you. I’d appreciate it very much if you didn’t give him a hard time over me being involved in the gang’s activities.” Dehaan spoke the last part in a whispered, pleading voice.

Xavier nodded, then left the room, carefully closing the door behind him. He braced himself for the lecture on respecting his friend’s choices and decisions his father was most likely going to serve him.Maybe Dad is right. Dehaan is no longer the shy, reserved, scared kid he brought home eight years ago. Maybe it’s time to stop mooning over him so much and admit he has his own life now, one that doesn’t have to include me,Xavier thought.

To his great surprise, his mother was also present in the kitchen, sitting at her usual place next to her husband. The woman’s small hands covered her husband’s, almost twice as big, in a protective, almost maternal gesture. The scene was painfully familiar to Xavier, reminding him of the time they found out about his mother’s cancer diagnosis and the spouses tried to deal with the new situation the best they could.

Indicating one of the free chairs, Sarge started to speak in a gentle but tired voice. “Sit down, son. As you suspect, we’re here to talk about Dehaan, who is like a son to me and your mom. The past few days have been hard for him, and the following ones are going to be even tougher. He needs space, now more than ever, but I’m also going to ask you to keep an eye on him.”

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