Chapter 25
Ronan
Kenji better fucking understand. Declan almost lost Xavier because of a security fuckup.
Xavier didn’t think that it was Kenneth’s fault, but it was.
If he had been paying the attention he should have been, Xavier wouldn’t have been kidnapped and tortured before we got there.
That mistake will not be repeated. Kenneth was not happy with his reassignment.
Night duty patrols at a warehouse are a step down from the personal security he had been assigned to.
“I will be inside the house with the permanent guards, and I have assigned four more to the outside patrols,” he explains his plan.
“That’s a lot of guards,” Colton comments. “Do you really think that is necessary?”
“I’m not taking any chances with you guys. You will be with me, and Ollie will be with Kenji when he is not with us. You are not to leave the house for any reason.”
He nods but doesn’t reply. He turns to stare out the window.
I watch his face as we drive through the gates of my childhood home. His facial expression changes. His eyes go wide when the house comes into view, the stone facade rising behind the circular drive.
“Wow, this is where you grew up?” His head swivels on his shoulders as he takes in the manicured lawn and circular driveway; his gaze falls back on the house.
“Yes.”
He looks over at me and smiles. He gives me a view of his dimples. They are mine. I crave seeing them. I’m addicted to watching them indent his cheeks.
“I guess it wouldn’t be a big deal to you since you grew up with this.” He gestures to the house. “But we, less fortunate people, are impressed by it.”
I try to see the house from his point of view. It’s just a house. Mom does remind us all the time how privileged we are to have the lives that we do. I never think about it.
I grab our bags as Colton unbuckles Ollie. Franklin, our chef, and Gloria, the house manager, open the front door to greet us.
“Oh, Master Ollie is back,” Franklin says with a beaming smile.
“I have more treats for you to taste.” He turns his attention to Colton.
I step closer, placing my arm over his shoulders.
Franklin is an older man, but I know he is also gay, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding. Colton and Ollie are mine.
“You must be Mr. Colton. Mrs. Alessia told me all about you. I’m Franklin, the head chef.” He beams at Colton. That’s when Ollie notices Franklin.
“Yum yum yum.” Ollie chants while reaching for the chef.
“May I?” he asks Colton before reaching for Ollie.
“Yeah, I guess he really likes your food.”
Ollie goes to Franklin, who starts explaining the treats he has prepared for him. Ollie babbles back as the pair enters the house.
“Hello, Mr. Colton, I’m Gloria, the house manager. If there is anything that you need, please feel free to ask, and I will take care of it.” She shakes Colton’s hand.
“Thank you.”
I lead Colton into the house. His head never stops moving, taking in everything we pass. We will be using Mom’s office for the time being until this is resolved, so I take Colton there first. He walks over to her bookshelf to examine the items Mom has on display.
“This is so cool. Your mom has stuff from your childhood.” He picks up a handmade Mother’s Day card. I roll my eyes.
“That was from last year.”
“I’m sorry, what? You still make your mom handmade cards? That’s so sweet.” He examines a Christmas ornament that Declan made.
“Not usually. I had to volunteer at the children’s arts and crafts day at the shelter last year.”
“What do you mean you had to?” he asks, placing everything back on the shelf.
“Conor pissed me off, so I had his car repossessed. Mom wasn’t amused. So my punishment was to volunteer during arts and crafts. I handle their computer labs, but since I displeased Mom, I had to do it. She makes us bring her back everything we make.”
Colton starts chuckling like he is trying not to. But then he starts laughing. His eyes light up, and the sound is like music to me. My Dad walks in, and Colton tries to sober his face.
“What’s so funny?”
“Colton found out about arts and crafts,” I tell my Dad.
“He finds out my kids are dumbasses and he finds it funny?”
Apparently, that is even funnier because Colton loses it. By the time Mom comes in, he is clutching his gut, tears in his eyes. She raises her eyebrow at me, then at Dad, before turning back to Colton. He points at the shelf, and Mom smiles.
“They hate it.” She laughs with him. “They volunteer, but usually it’s not directly with the kids. But when they do something, they need to learn from it, so I reinforce it. I’ll teach you my methods. Xavier was a quick study, and I’m sure you will be too.”
“I’ve only got one thing on the fucking shelf. And that was Conor’s fault. I follow the rules.” I grumble. She doesn’t need to teach Colton anything. I’m ready to do his bidding.
“Jackasses, the lot of them,” Dad says again.
“Dear, would you like me to share some of your crafts? I only agreed not to display them. You never said anything about sharing them. Like father, like sons.” Mom winks at Colton.
Dad narrows his eyes and then shakes his head. He turns on his computer and starts working.
“You’re amazing,” Colton says to my mom. Mom is one hell of a person. I step over to Colton and grip the back of his neck. His smile returns to me.
“Let’s get started. The others should be here soon.” I pull his chair closer to mine when we take our seats. We gather information and share it in the file. I see one marked travel and open it.
“Fuck,” I breathe. I look over to my Dad and Mom.
“Yes,” Dad replies to my expletive.
“What’s going on?” Colton asks.
“They’re here in Philly, your parents and three others.”
Before I can say any more, Colton jumps to his feet. “Where’s Ollie? We have to go. Ronan, we have to run.” He’s frantic.
I pull him into my arms. “Calm down, Colton. No one will get to Ollie here. If I thought there was even the slightest chance, I would take you away myself.” I’m shocked at my statement when I hear myself say it.
But I mean it. I would leave my home if I thought that would keep them safe.
But it’s not what we need to do. I take Colton’s face in my hands.
“Look at me, Colton,” I command. He’s still squirming, but he isn’t pulling away. When his bright, too wide eyes meet mine, I continue. “What are we doing? What have we been doing for the past two days?”
He studies my face. “Gathering information.”
“No,” I say. “We are preparing to take them down. To eliminate them.”