Carver

Chapter 18

Eighteen

Tracking down Stephanie Gatz was more work than any of them thought. While Trix was talented with computers, there was only so much that could be done with a trail this cold.

While Carver wanted answers, he also wasn’t all that bothered at the silence. Having Gideon’s history meant he knew more about the boy and how he’d been treated. It helped him navigate their roles together.

The day he’d returned upstairs after finding out the truth, he’d found Gideon dressed and sitting on the bed. Carver’s pillow was still in his grasp. His face wasn’t buried in it, though it was pretty damn close given his position.

Carver hadn’t said anything to him. He’d moved to the edge of the bed and sat on the floor with his back against the side. They sat in silence for several minutes as Carver tried to think of what to say next.

In the end, it didn’t matter. The boy never responded to any questions, nor did he seem all that interested in conversation as a whole.

Rather than pushing him past his comfort levels, Carver chose to embrace the silence between them anytime they were alone. He could feel the bond between them building in a way he couldn’t explain. Every moment of them merely existing together created another layer of trust.

Days turned into weeks before Carver knew it.

The pair developed a daily routine. It involved baths, proper teeth brushing, and lessons in grooming.

Visits to the doctor told him Gideon’s eyes and ears were fine.

His throat and vocal cords were too. The doctor called it selective mutism.

Carver looked it up later and took note of how people learned to communicate without their words.

Simple gestures became the means after several attempts with other notions. Gideon only stared at him when it came to ASL and writing. Even texting seemed to bore him.

But hand gestures were fine. Carver could mime eating and get a nod. He could move as if scrubbing his body for a bath and Gideon would make his way to the tub. The simple process became highly effective.

More than that, it invigorated Carver. The first time Gideon nodded his way, he nearly shouted his victory. He wanted to run through the building telling everyone what he’d accomplished. What his sweet boy had accomplished.

Despite knowing more about Gideon, Carver couldn’t help but think of him as his sweet boy still. The notion wouldn’t leave his mind despite his better judgement.

It worked in his favor too since Fury had mentioned not saying his real name yet. “We don’t know if it’s a trigger for him. I’d rather see him continue to progress with what is comfortable rather than push for too much too soon.”

Having taken those words to heart, Carver avoided anything about the boy’s past. In fact, he made it his mission to only be in the present. He didn’t even bring up future things for fear of it disturbing anything.

This plan worked for a while. Gideon seemed content.

He spent more time outside of his cage, though he still slept inside it every night.

And he never ventured outside of Carver’s bedroom.

While he didn’t mind Doc, Fury, and Hex, there was some hesitation with Slash and Slayer.

Trix’s arrival was met with a mix of emotions.

Sometimes it was fine and other times, it seemed to bother him.

Carver started to observe what the differences were. After a few instances, he noted the way Trix styled his hair was the trigger. He spoke to the other man about it and from then on, Gideon was ok with his visits.

Other small details also became clear the more the boy opened up. His favorite foods were Italian. Spaghetti, pizza, and anything with loads of garlic. He wouldn’t necessarily smile, but he would eat far more of it than he did anything else.

Doc gave the approval for the I.V. vitamins to come out about a month into the process. Gideon sighed with relief once the needles were gone. He was given a bandage to cover the spot, and Carver recalled a time when he was covered in the same kind of material.

They’d already come such a long way in a short span. At night, when he couldn’t sleep and would sometimes watch the boy in his cage, he would contemplate what came next. How much time did the boy need before he felt safe enough to speak? Would he ever, really?

And what about relationships? Would Gideon want to leave the Angels once he was well enough to? Did the future he pictured include Carver or was it away from anything and everything that could remind him of his past?

The thoughts plagued Carver during the night.

When morning came, he’d always put on a calm, friendly face for Gideon. He never wanted the boy to worry over his troubles. Even when club business happened and it was obvious he was struggling, Carver never let Gideon know. At least, he did his best not to.

Everything was going well until Carver got a call while he and Gideon were eating dinner.

He looked down to see Orion’s number. He was one of Tank’s guys over at NightShade Security.

It was rare for them to call, yet they’d done so twice now.

He had all their numbers saved in case he couldn’t reach the big man.

It was only luck his curiosity made him answer.

Annoyed at the interruption, he gave a gruff, “What do you want?”

It was then he heard two other voices on the line. The first said, “To what do we owe the pleasure of this call?”

The second immediately grunted and said, “Yeah, what do you want, Orion?"

“Well, gentlemen, I have a little problem. I was going to see if either of you would be able to help me. There’s this guy here who stole my boyfriend's son to turn him into his own personal sex slave.

We already got the boy, no worries. But he bought another one already.

We returned him to his family earlier this week.

Oh, and our little problem is also connected to those really bad guys we've been hunting down. So I need him dead. While I could get messy, I thought maybe one of you would like to have fun with him first.”

Carver chuckled darkly. “I would have a good time with that one. I call dibs.”

The other pair let out noises of their own, as if to protest Carver’s claim. “You can't call dibs. I want in on this. It's been too long since I've shed some asshole’s blood,” said one.

His partner interrupted to say, “You get two for one if you pick us. We can be there sooner than this other guy as well. Whoever he is.”

“Name’s Carver. I bet you can figure out how I got it.”

“Yeah, and I'm Preacher because people pray to me right before they die. Big whoop about your fucking name dude. How close are you? If you beat us, then you can have dibs I guess.”

The sound of keys jingling echoed over the line. Carver clenched his jaw at the thought of missing out on this. Quickly he told them, “Don't worry about how long it'll take me to get there. By the time you show up, I'll already be having my fun.”

Whoever the Preacher guy and his partner were, Carver would show them how to properly torture someone who was as fucked as Orion said. Remembering who he was with, Carver looked over to Gideon. The boy watched him with a curious glint in his eye.

Carver wasn’t sure how much of the conversation he heard. Even more, he had no clue of knowing how much he understood. It was apparent Gideon was smart despite his silence. He said more without words than some did with hours to talk.

He disconnected the call, not only because he needed to get to the NightShade offices quickly, but he also needed to check on Gideon. Once the phone was back in his pocket, he leaned forward a small amount.

“I need to go take care of something. You’ll stay here with the men. When I come back, I’ll explain everything.”

Gideon nodded.

“Who do you want to stay with you? Trix or Hex? Doc and Fury are probably deep into a poker game, but I can get them for you if you’d like.”

The boy reached over and tapped his arm twice. Hex it was.

“Be good for him. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Before he could rein himself in, Carver pressed a kiss to Gideon’s forehead and stood. He nearly staggered as a blush hit the boy’s cheeks.

Turning away, Carver practically ran from the room. Slayer made as if to stop him, though from whatever expression Carver wore, he chose not to.

After notifying Hex he had to leave and getting Slash to ride with him, the pair took off for the NightShade offices. He didn’t know how close the other men were. With his bike and speed, he managed to make it there far faster than he suspected anyone else could.

Taking the elevator up, Carver and Slash made it to Tank’s office in no time. “I hear you need some muscle,” he boasted.

Tank smirked. “Should have known you’d be first. They’re at the warehouse.”

At the address he rattled off, Carver turned to go back downstairs. He understood why they couldn’t give the location over the phone. Still, he was frustrated to know he’d have to make another trip to finally get to the man in question.

When he and Slash revved their bikes again, a car screeched to a halt across the lot. A couple in head-to-toe black climbed out. It was obvious at first glance this was Preacher, and the man sent to help him.

Carver threw them a wave, then sped off with Slash on his tail.

Rather than go inside, the others climbed back in their vehicle and followed them.

He didn’t blame them for taking the easy way about it.

Besides, it wasn’t like they’d beat him inside the warehouse either.

Carver would get the first lick at this piece of shit no matter what.

He’d earned the name The Butcher long ago. Though he didn’t do a ton of grunt work anymore, he knew how to deliver pain to those who deserved it.

After parking the bikes out of sight of the main road, Carver and Slash climbed off. Carver was removing his tools from his side bag when the car that followed them parked near though not too close. When the men climbed out, he called out, “Which one of you is Preacher?”

The bigger of the two nodded. “That’s me. You’re Carver.”

“Usually yes. Tonight, I’m The Butcher. Come watch me have some fun.”

Carver busted through the door with a confidence no one would miss. The others followed him as Slash stayed outside to keep an eye open for any law enforcement. He doubted they would show up, but he never let his guard down.

He was too far away to note who the person was being beat to shit. Not that it mattered. The bastard deserved this much and more.

Orion stood slowly, turning to face us. “I see you all arrived at the same time. Guess you'll have to duke it out.”

Carver laughed as he slung a bag down on the ground. He opened it up to produce an array of tools with very sharp edges.

The man who came with Preacher had a similar bag that he pulled out. They glanced at each other and looked at their weaponry with a shared smile.

“I think my boy just made a friend. Crazy life we lead, huh?" Preacher said.

Something about the words made Carver shiver. Could these men be the alternate universe version of him and Gideon? Would his sweet boy ever want to come with him when he had to play his role as Butcher?

Carver shook his head. That was a pipedream. His boy was too traumatized for such. Maybe they could talk about it one day. He never envisioned anything like this though. It was too unrealistic.

Takeshi and Ronan, more of Tank’s men, took off toward the door, leaving Orion alone with the three murderous fools and the asshole they had their sights on.

“Whatever you do to him, make it hurt. We've also got a cage you can put him in for a while if you get tired or need to run to get food or something.” Orion motioned to the device at the side of the room. All three men nodded in understanding. “I'll leave you to it.”

The minute the door closed, his calm facade dropped. He stepped closer to the man bleeding out on the ground and kicked him hard.

“Jackie Varr, you sick fuck. How perfect is it that you’re now under my watch?”

Preacher cleared his throat. “You know the guy? Is this personal? Dante and I can offer support only if so. We don’t want to encroach.”

Carver appreciated the other man. “It is personal. My… Gideon was taken by Varr as a child. He wanted to make him a sex slave, but things didn’t work out. He still suffered because Varr is a piece of shit.”

He punctuated the word with another hard kick. Then Carver bent down to grab one of his saws.

“I would actually love help on this one. It is personal, but I have a feeling since Orion called you both that you do good work as well.”

Preacher smirked. “I earned the name, that’s for sure. And my boy is better known as The Monster.”

“Ah, yes. I have heard of him through certain channels.” Carver knew Trix would absolutely lose his shit to find out he’d missed out on the chance to meet the mysterious Monster. He’d mentioned the name more than once in passing throughout the last year.

“Then you know we’d be honored to help you,” Dante added.

After that, the three men worked as one unit. There was no need to talk or question Varr. He was already guilty beyond measure. It wouldn’t change a single thing for them to engage him.

Instead, they took turns slicing away at his body and breaking his bones. Each blow delivered felt like a weight was being lifted from Carver’s shoulders. Varr was only one piece of the puzzle in Gideon’s story. To be honest, he hadn’t intended to go after him until Straube was settled.

But fate saw fit to spoil him otherwise.

When it was all said and done, there was barely anything recognizable about Jackie Varr. His blood coated the floor and all three men, creating a grotesque picture. While Carver would have cleaned up right away, one glance at his phone told him he’d been gone too long.

“I need to get back to Gideon,” he said abruptly. “It’s shitty to leave the cleaning to you two —”

“Don’t think anything of it. We don’t mind.” At Preacher’s words, Carver grinned.

“Besides, this was kind of fun.” Dante shrugged. “Is it weird to want to be friends because we commit murder together? Can that even be a bonding thing?”

Carver and Preacher chuckled at the suggestion. It was a strange notion, however, the look the two men shared was one that said they agreed with Dante. What was friendship other than finding things in common and celebrating it?

“I’ll be in touch.” Carver thanked them once more and left. As soon as he stepped outside, Slash’s gaze whipped his way.

“Fuck, Prez. You’re coated in blood. Even with the black it’s kinda obvious. We gotta get you home and cleaned up.”

Normally, Carver wouldn’t track blood home. It was too messy to leave a trail like that.

But he needed to check on his boy.