Page 6 of The Homecoming: The Island

“No,” Ardan’s answer came in a somewhat harsh voice, “I’ll stay right here. I’m feeling dirty on the outside and inside, I need time to clean myself, to purge the evil from my body and mind.”

“I’ll help you, just let me know why. We’ve been there, done that more than one time; we can do it again, if you let me take care of you, my Ardan.” Alasdair’s emerald eyes were glistening with tears, his hands brought together in a pleading gesture. I don’t want to lose you.’’

“You won’t. I won’t go anywhere, I’ll be right here, enjoying every minute in our sweet children’s company, supporting Lorcan, Cian, and Tarrin, encouraging them to follow their dreams. And I’ll be by your side, fighting your battles and doing my damnedest to help you win. But don’t ask me to be with you that way, because I can’t give you that.”

Ardan’s words, spoken in a soft, pained voice, made Alasdair’s heart bleed. The redhead decided to try one more time to change his husband’s mind about sleeping on the floor, hoping to convince the other man to join him in bed. “From the age of sixteen to well after my eighteenth birthday, we shared the bed, and nothing sexual happened between us. We can do that again, for how long you will need.”

But Ardan didn’t answer; instead, he became tense again, his body posture signaling he wanted to avoid physical contact. Alasdair got the message and, with a heavy heart, moved back to the bed and rolled on one side, head propped on one elbow, watching his husband. To his great relief, the man relaxed after a few minutes, his even breath a telltale sign he was sound asleep.

The redhead waited for a while, to make sure Ardan wouldn’t wake up, and left the bed again, a blanket and a pillow in hand. He gently lifted his husband’s head, placing the pillow under it, then covered him with the thick blanket. Letting out a small sigh of satisfaction, Alasdair sat on the edge of the bed, reflecting on his husband’s situation.

He expected Ardan to react one way or another after the rescue mission on that goddamn island but didn’t think it would be so soon and so drastic. Running a hand over his face, Alasdair made a mental note to talk to his cousin Daniel and the other men who took part to the rescue mission, ask them if they experienced the same emotions that were wreaking havoc through his husband’s mind and soul.

Ardan had to put everything behind him, he had to come back from that state and be the old self as soon as possible, he couldn’t get drown in the sea of sorrow and despair which almost swallowed him once. At that point, Alasdair abruptly stopped, disappointed in his selfish attitude. The redhead realized how much he’d gotten used to the comfortable, happy life he and Ardan had lately, and how wrong he was about what his husband wanted.

Alasdair let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head, disappointed in his selfish attitude. Suddenly, his emerald eyes brightened, shining with renewed hope, and he stood, took his phone from the nightstand and left the room, closing the door behind him. As he passed through the corridor taking to the stairs, the redhead felt grateful that all Ardan’s sons who were kidnapped came home unharmed.

Once downstairs, Alasdair went into the living room and, plopping on a comfy armchair, dialed his uncle Fabian’s number, hoping the man was still awake. A few seconds later, the familiar, gentle voice answered, relief flooding every cell of Alasdair’s body. The more he listened to the words of the older, wiser man on the other end of the line, the more confident he became that everything would be all right.

I’ll be waiting for you to come back, my love, and when you do, we’ll be stronger than ever.The redhead smiled at the thought.

CHAPTER 5

Fabian wished his nephew good night and turned the phone off, climbing upstairs, a tender smile on his face. He stopped in front of Ira’s room, and, after a moment of hesitation, cracked the door open, peeking inside. The kid he and Lance encountered at the Montana cabin and later adopted was sound asleep, his arms protectively wrapped around Tarrin’s slender form.

Fabian’s smile became even brighter, and, after carefully closing the door behind him, the man headed to the master bedroom. On the way, he hoped the buzz of his phone didn’t wake Lance; his poor husband must have been sick with worry while he and the rescue team were away, and he deserved a few hours of quality, uninterrupted sleep.

“Who was that?” Fabian’s heart ached a little when he heard Lance’s raspy, worry-filled voice. “Is there something wrong with one of the boys?” Without waiting for his husband’s answer, the man sat forward, fully alert.

“It was Alasdair. Ardan refused to sleep on the bed with him and moved on the floor. My nephew was a little agitated, so I told him everything is going to be fine.” Fabian spoke in a calm voice, soothing Lance’s tensed nerves.

“Why would Ardan want to do that? What happened on the island, to affect him like that? You were with him all the time, and so was Alasdair.” The other man frowned in confusion. “Or was the other team, the Sanitini gangsters, the ones who created problems? Brennan was right, after all, we shouldn’t have associated with them,” Lance mumbled under his breath.

Fabian gave his husband an amused look. “Slow down, please, my head is spinning. As I understood from what Alasdair told me, Ardan wants to put distance between him, and the image of sex object Alexander forced into his mind. According to my nephew, his husband promised him he won’t go anywhere.”

“I see now.” Lance nodded, relief washing over him. “Ardan wants to take a break from everything that reminds him, one way or another, of sexual activities.” After a brief pause, the man stared in his husband’s sapphire eyes. “You didn’t answer to question about the Sanitini family’s enforcers and the men accompanying them,” Lance said, his voice anxious.

“They are good men, most of them just a little older than Gavin, Lorcan, and Cian. Their leaders, Clint, the cowboy, and that massive Egyptian guy named Cochise are men of honor, you would have liked them a lot.” It was Fabian’s turn to pause a little. “Was not for the two, Ardan and I would not have been among the living, that island would have served as our grave.”

“Wh—what are you talking about? Did the fucker want to eliminate you? Is that why he lured you in that godforsaken place? Son of a bitch, tomorrow is the last day of his life,” Lance cursed between clenched teeth, balling his hands into fists.

“And rob Ardan of the revenge he waited for almost two decades? I don’t think so,” Fabian’s reply came in a calm, but firm voice. “Plus, the situation was more complex than you think,” the man inhaled sharply.

Using simple words, without dramatizing the situation, he started to tell Lance about the tangled affair the kidnapping was. Eyes wide with shock and surprise, mouth slightly agape, the former CIA agent listened to his husband’s story, so focused on his husband’s words, that he started to visualize everything in his mind, like the scenes from a movie.

As Fabian’s story progressed, Lance experienced all kinds of emotions; at first, he was confused, then enraged by the evilness of the human-faced monsters’ cruelty and their machinations. In a mix of English and Yiddish words, he cursed Ames, Alexander, and that freak everyone knew as the cyclops, whose twisted idea of revenge affected so many innocents.

When the story ended, Lance was grateful everyone, the gangsters’ boys included, was back home, physically unharmed. He also expressed his great respect for Parker and Shane, who helped the kids and kept them safe, away of the predators’ claws. At that point, Lance remembered about Alexander’s sons, and his enthusiasm died down.

“What will happen now with these boys? From what Zachary told me today, when the two of us met, they have no idea about the atrocities that fucking monster committed. I think someone should tell them, because if not, devoted how they are to the memory of their father…” Lance shook his head, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“I talked to Ardan,” Fabian’s answer came in a small, pained voice. “Elias, the oldest, is still in critical condition. Alasdair decided to put him in an induced coma. The younger one, Abernathy, although unharmed physically, is not in a good mental state.” The man turned to Lance, tears glistening in his eyes. “Those boys are my nephews. My own flesh and blood.”

“I understand and, if you intend to adopt Alexander’s sons and bring them here, at the mansion, I’ll talk to Ira and explain him the situation. However, they have to know what kind of a devil fathered them,” Lance insisted.

“They won’t find out from us.” Fabian’s pleading gaze rested on his husband. “You know the secret of Riley’s birth; does it make to love him less? Rowan is Conroy’s son; if he wouldn’t know how crazy, twisted-minded and cruel that goddamn bastard was, would you want to be the one who tells him?”

Lance put his arms around Fabian’s torso, planting a kiss on the top of the man’s head. “My husband is not only the most handsome man in the world, he’s also the wisest,” he purred in a seductive voice, sending shivers of pleasure in the other man’s groin.

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