Chapter 14
Fourteen
Carver’s phone rang right as he took another bite of the sandwich one of the old ladies had made him. She’d been passing by his open office door a few minutes earlier and his stomach growled loud enough to hear. When she asked to help, he agreed a sandwich would be plenty.
He regretted eating at all when he heard the panic in Hex’s voice. “Need you now!”
Dropping everything, Carver left his office at a sprint. People jumped out of his way with shouts and questions. He ignored it all, not wanting to stop until he got to the boy. Hex never panicked. He kept his cool even in the worst situations. For him to be upset meant shit was bad. Real bad.
At the entrance to the room, Fury stood waiting for him. Slayer was also at the door, his large form blocking anyone from getting in.
“Move,” Carver barked.
Rather than shifting to the side, Slayer looked to Fury. What the fuck? Did he not hear the direct order he’d been given?
“Carver.” At Fury’s hesitant tone, his head whipped over. “Before you go in, I need you to understand this isn’t Hex’s fault. He went in as soon as he heard what was going on. Doc is in there checking him over.”
“Checking him over?”
“Yes,” Fury answered.
“Why did he need checking? And why the fuck am I still out here? Let. Me. In.”
Fury reached a hand out to press against Carver’s chest. He hadn’t even realized he’d stepped forward, as if to intimidate the man.
“You have to calm down first. He’s not going to react well if you’re a well of anger. And I need you to promise you’re not going to lose it the minute you see him either. Repeat after me: It’s not Hex’s fault. Doc is trying to help. Everyone is going to be ok.”
He repeated the words with a touch of bitterness. While he didn’t want to force himself to calm, he could see the truth in Fury’s words. Carver was a scary fucker when angry.
“I’m going to let you in now. I’ll be right behind you, Prez. If you give me any indication you’re going to attack anyone, Slayer and I will have to subdue you. Understood?”
Carver frowned at the no-nonsense tone. It wasn’t like Fury. Something else was going on.
He took a deep breath, then nodded. “I’ll keep my cool.”
It was a promise he was barely able to keep once the door opened and he stepped inside. The scene before him would haunt his nightmares, much like the vision of when he’d originally found the boy.
A still form laid on the bed, obviously sedated. Doc checked his arms and legs as Hex sat on the floor by the bed, his head in his hands. Those two things were innocuous alone. It was the state of the boy’s body and the open closet door that bothered Carver.
Deep bruises on his pale skin.
Broken wood lined the floor of the closet.
Together, he knew what the picture painted. The boy had tried to hurt himself again. It was then Carver took in more details.
The bowl of food from earlier was still full, though it was shoved to the side. There was a sheet wrapped around the broken pieces of wood. Hex’s heavy breathing. Doc’s concerned gaze.
“What happened?” Carver asked, his voice whisper soft.
Hex’s head rose, revealing red eyes and tear stains down his cheeks. “I’m… I’m sorry, Boss. I came in as soon as I heard the noises. It was—”
“Almost too late,” Doc finished. “This was a close fucking call. I’m half tempted to suggest we send him to a hospital no matter what you say. How the fuck are we going to stop him if a sheet is a weapon?”
Carver recognized the helpless tone. He felt the same pain in his own body. This shouldn’t have happened. They’d brought the boy here to help him. Instead, he’d managed to make two attempts at his life. What kind of protectors were they?
“This isn’t any of our faults.” Fury’s words drew everyone’s attention.
“You sure? Because I feel real fucking responsible for this right now,” Hex said.
Fury moved over to him, then dropped to a squat. “I’m sure you do, but that’s not the case. Whatever is going on in this boy’s mind, it’s deeper than any of us can understand. He sees ending his own life as a better option than living. That type of trauma takes time to heal.”
“Then how do we stop him from doing it again? I’m with Doc on this. Even the idea seems impossible,” Slayer grumbled.
Slash backhanded his brother in the chest. “Stop being a dick. Can’t you see Prez is still upset.”
All eyes turned to Carver. He practically vibrated with the restraint he had to force himself to maintain. Fury had warned him to keep his cool. While he knew lashing out would bring temporary relief, the idea of being forced away from the boy made him miserable.
“Well, shit. That’s another issue entirely,” Slayer noted after looking Carver up and down.
Fury left Hex’s side to move closer to Carver.
“You’ve got to make some big decisions now.
I have ideas of what we can do to help, but you’re not going to like it.
Honestly, I don’t think anyone here will.
But it’s either trying these things or sending him on his way. There’s no in between anymore.”
Carver was nodding before the other man even finished his words. He’d do whatever it took to get the boy better. There was no request too off-putting. Fury had helped him navigate his own trauma. He trusted the other man to be right about this too.
“Tell me,” Carver demanded.
Fury looked each man in the eye before he sighed deeply. “His life before this was spent essentially as that woman’s pet. It’s all he knows. All he understands. We took all of that away from him. Even though it’s shitty, I think we have to take a few steps back in that direction.”
“Which means what?” Hex rasped. “Are we going to put him in a cage?!”
“If we have to, then yes. He needs a collar too. I know we’d planned on getting one before, yet we never did.
Now it’s a must. While we don’t need to treat him badly like they did, we do need to simulate what he knows as normal.
At least for a bit of time. Once he’s stable, then we can continue to wean him away from this type of life.
It will be a slow process though. I don’t want any of you to consider this easy in the slightest.”
“Nothing about this feels easy, Fury. We’re all fucking aware of what failing at this means.” Slash’s words had the other man’s brows rising.
“And what does it mean?”
“It means one of two things. The boy either succeeds at ending himself and it destroys Prez, or we send him away for help, which also destroys Prez.”
Carver growls at both options. “He’s not fucking leaving.”
With heaving breaths, he stomped over to where Doc kneeled at the bedside. He watched as cream was applied, and bandages redressed. Some might have thought he was judging Doc’s movements. Everyone in this room understood it was more about him learning the process.
Because from that moment forward, the boy was Carver’s to care for. He wouldn’t leave the other’s man’s sight for longer than it took to shower and shit. Even then, Carver thought about leaving the door open in case something went sideways.
As soon as Doc was done, he moved out of the way. Carver slid into his spot. He itched to trail his fingers over the boy’s bruises. While it would serve no purpose in helping, Carver knew it would make him feel better. He might even catch a trace of the boy’s pulse as well.
He wanted the reminder. No, he needed it.
Instead of going for his neck, Carver grabbed the wrist laying in front of him. In seconds, he felt the steady, rhythmic beat signaling the boy was still with them.
“What do you want to do, Prez?” Slash asked in the silence.
It was in that moment Carver made his decision. Releasing the boy, he stood and faced his men.
“Slash, go find some type of containment system that will work for him. Nothing too big but not too small either. Buy three of them. One for my office, one for my room, and another for outside. Hex and Slayer, go find pillows and blankets that are thick. Nothing he can tie or hurt himself with. If one is weighted, that’s even better.
Doc and Fury, write up a care plan for him.
Work together to assess the best steps ahead for us.
I’m going to put in a few calls to people I think might be able to help. Together, we can figure this out.”
The men agreed easily. Several of them appeared to be in better spirits with a plan of action ahead of them. Carver knew it helped him as well.
Once they all left, he sat on the bed beside the boy’s still form. Trix had been called to come stand outside the door to give Carver the privacy he needed while he made the calls. Since his face recognition program could work all by itself, he didn’t need to monitor it all that much.
Plus, all the Angels knew he had access to his systems on his phone. The man wouldn’t miss a beat if there was a new development.
With the wheels in motion, Carver dialed Royce for help first. They answered on the third ring.
“Don’t tell me you already need my help again. I can’t fathom all this communication, Carver. I’m starting to think you like me.”
He snorted at their tone. It managed to have him cracking a smile when the discussion wasn’t anything worth smiling at. But that was Royce’s charm. They simply made others feel good.
“I’m calling because there have been some developments since we last spoke. Our guest has now attempted twice.”
Carver didn’t need to explain any further than that.
Royce would understand what he meant. They’d worked together long enough to get the point across without excessive detail.
Besides, it would only anger Carver to have to go through it all again.
He needed to remain calm if he wanted to get the information he hoped to.
“Fuck. How awful. I’m sorry, Carver. Are you needing me to take him on?”
His growl was instant. “No.”
“Oh-kay then,” Royce drawled, their Southern accent deepening. “Then how can I assist?”