Chapter 10
Ten
Carver slept for several hours in that awkward position, waking later with pain radiating through his neck. Knowing that it wouldn't get any better, and he likely wouldn't get any more sleep, he rose and took a look at the boy.
He was still knocked out, which was good and bad.
Carver decided to take the chance to shower and freshen up. The day would not wait on him. While he could sit and stare at the boy for hours more, he knew he had to get things done.
Going back into his room, he stripped free of his clothes and hopped in the shower. He moved on autopilot, washing his hair and getting clean. After he got out, he threw on some jeans, a white shirt, and his cut. He even put on his boots because being barefoot felt somehow wrong in all of this.
He was the leader of the Angels. The big boss in charge. The Butcher.
Being soft wasn't something he could afford at the moment.
As he went to leave, he decided to check on the boy one more time. When he opened the door, he realized something was wrong. The bed was empty and there was no sign of the young man.
Since he hadn't heard anyone leave or move down the hall, he suspected the boy was somewhere in the room. Moving slowly around the bed, he spotted a form curled up on the floor beside it. The way he was positioned, the boy couldn't see him — or at least Carver didn't think he could.
When the boy began to shake as if terrified, Carver noticed the small space between his arms where his eyes had peeked through. He backed up until he was further away, slowly lowering himself to a kneeling position.
"Hello," he said to the boy. "I'm Carver. You're here in my home."
He nearly scoffed at the phrasing. While this was his home, it wasn't anything like a normal house. Then again, the boy had been kept in a literal mansion with an evil woman. This had to be somewhat better.
The boy pulled his arms away to reveal his face. Carver smiled. That seemed to relax him some more because he slowly pushed up.
Carver decided to take a chance and say more. "Me and my guys helped you get away from that lady."
He didn't dare say Mordecai's name. He worried that it would be triggering.
The young man blinked at him, like he didn't quite understand. Was he choosing not to respond?
Or maybe he's mute, Carver thought to himself.
Then he remembered the screams.
Carver shook his head to clear away the confusing thoughts as he continued on. "We brought you here. We're safe. We want to help and protect you. Do you have family that we can take you to? People that would help you or miss you?"
Carver hated that he had to ask the question. It was only right to check in. Since Trix had been working hard to pull up what he could about the boy, Carver understood there was a high chance not everything would be sunshine and roses.
But he still hoped he could get some intel from the boy. Maybe something he said would make him want to talk back.
Instead of speaking, the boy moved even further into an upright position and began to crawl towards Carver where he was kneeling. Carver kept still. He worried any type of movement would stop the approach.
"It's okay if you don't remember," he said. "We don't mind you being here. I don't mind. I'm the boss here."
His voice trailed off as the young man reached out towards him.
"What is your name, sweet boy?" Carver whispered as the young man's palm touched his cheek.
The boy didn't reply. He tilted his head to the side as if memorizing Carver's features in some way. His gaze was measured. It burned and it soothed all at once.
When his hand dropped away, Carver cautiously lifted his own. "May I?" he said.
The boy dipped his head just the slightest bit since Carver was watching him so intently. He saw it, and he took the chance. Moving slowly but earnestly, he raised his hand and pressed it against the boy's cheek. The boy leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.
A part of Carver's heart that had been damaged from his past soared. He felt this sort of completion within him, this locking into place.
He wanted to stand up and shout his joy. But no. That would likely startle him.
When the boy opened his eyes again, they widened, and he scurried away from Carver. His brow furrowed as he turned to look behind him. It was then he saw several of his men standing in the doorway.
Carver growled and the men scurried to leave. Only Slash stayed behind, appearing from behind the group as if he had only just walked up.
"Boss?" he questioned.
Carver shook his head, then turned to the boy who had tucked back into himself.
"It's okay, sweet boy," he said. "I sent the men off. None of them will hurt you. I wouldn't let them."
The boy continued to quiver as if he couldn't overcome the fear that had taken hold.
Carver turned back to Slash and said, "Go get Fury. I know he's already awake somewhere."
Slash didn't respond. He merely took off down the hall to do as he was ordered. Carver dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor. He began talking again, this time spouting random nonsense about the men.
“Slash, who was just here,” he started, “is my second-in-command.
He's a good guy and my best friend. He makes sure that I don't lose myself to this club.
You'll get to meet Hex too, though you saw him yesterday.
He's Mr. Friendly. The guy who can make pretty much anyone laugh.
He also knows about a million languages.
There's a story behind that that you might get to ask him one day.
“Of course, there's Trix, who's our computer nerd. He does all our behind-the-scenes stuff to make sure each mission goes off without a hitch.”
Carver paused to take a breath. The boy hadn't moved, so he pressed on.
“We also have Doc, that's who was helping you in the med bay.
He's the one who takes care of all our wounds and shit.
Slayer is another you should know. As his name suggests, he's one of my enforcers.
He doesn't have to do too much enforcing these days, but when we have a mission that goes wrong, he's prepared to take control. I wanted him to be higher up the food chain, but he swore he didn’t want to take the lead.
He's also Slash's twin. Not that it really matters because they look nothing alike, and you wouldn't know they were brothers other than their occasional freaky twin moments where they are so in tune with each other, it creeps me out.
“Then there's Silver, my sergeant at arms. He is the Casanova of the group.
While Hex makes people laugh, Silver can pretty much melt someone's clothes off with his eyes.
It's really fucking annoying, but it’s come in handy over the years.
Bookie is the only other person you need to know about for now.
He's a good guy. He and Knight are our current probies. The two of them are pretty much shoo-ins to become full Angels. I should probably explain what a probie is,” Carver pondered at the end of his rant.
A chuckle from behind had him turning. Fury strode into the room with Slash behind him. They moved to close the door, and the boy squeaked.
"Don't shut it," Carver said quickly. “He doesn't need to feel caged in.”
They nodded and left it open. Carver's immediate reaction seemed to have appeased the boy.
He untangled himself a bit from his cocoon and faced the three men.
His hand moved to his neck. It wasn't in a way that looked as if he would hurt himself, more like he needed the comfort of stroking the area.
Fury appeared to take note of the movement and of Carver's position. He walked over and sat beside the prez. "Hey there kid, I'm Fury. I hear you're our newest Angel."
The boy's gaze didn't change, but his shoulders dropped slightly.
Slash sat down on Carver's other side. The three of them looked like something out of a small children's classroom the way they sat lined up in front of him.
Slash chuckled. “It figures this guy gets a one-way ticket straight to being an Angel. Do you know how hard that is, kid?"
Carver laughed as well. "Yeah, Bookie and Knight, those two probies I told you about, had to work endlessly night and day to earn their spot.”
The boy tilted his head again. Carver now recognized it as his way of asking for further explanation.
Fury must have noticed it, too, because he went on to explain, "Probies are what we call probates, the new guys.
They basically get to take care of everything we don't want to take care of as a way to prove their loyalty.
Once we know we can trust them, they become full Angels, get a cut, start earning profits, and running on missions.
For now, they're pretty much stuck here taking care of things unless we send them off to run errands like get groceries or something. "
Carver nodded, adding on, "We're not like some of the other clubs though. Our probies aren't treated badly. If anything, we work extra hard to make sure that they're just as welcomed as the rest of us. To be an Angel means to be a warrior. You're fighting for the good of things, not the bad."
The boy finally untangled himself the rest of the way and mimicked their positions. His hand remained on his neck, and Fury spoke aloud to inquire.
"Are you missing something?" he said. "Something you used to wear on your neck?"
The boy didn't respond, nor did he tilt his head. His thumb continued to stroke along the column of skin.
Something about the movement made Carver angry. He wasn't sure what it was. It didn't make sense.
Slash hummed, which drew Carver's eye his way. He leaned as if to whisper, but Carver shook his head.
"Say it out loud. We're not keeping secrets from him."
The boy's movements froze at the words.
Slash nodded once. "Understood, Boss. I think maybe the boy is thinking about the collars. Wasn't there one on his neck?"