Chapter 20 #3
“My brothers and I were raised in the worst part of London’s slums,” he said. “We were the sons of a whore and God only knows who. We have had to fight for every scrap of bread and every meager joy in life we were granted.”
“Thomas told us,” Jonathan said stonily. “I am not inclined toward pity, so you may skip the sadness of your youth and advance to the part of the story where you and Hammond formed your first criminal gang and the club that accompanied it.”
Brutus and Titus exchanged another look, this one surprised.
“How much did Thomas tell you?” Titus asked just as Valentine returned to the room with a tray laden with tea things and cakes.
“Not much more than that,” Jonathan said, his tone softening as he watched Valentine set the tray down and pour tea.
“There was not much time for more. He merely said that the three of you are criminals, you began a club, which I am certain was a brothel, together, but that Hammond had selfish aims, whereas the two of you are supposedly Robin Hoods.”
Brutus laughed quietly. “I suppose you could describe us as Robin Hoods.”
“Thomas was correct to say that Charles wants only to advance his own interests,” Titus added.
“I cannot say that our interests are entirely pure, but we are more interested in giving advantage to the sort of young people that we were and the people from the world that birthed us rather than hoarding everything for ourselves.”
Charlie smiled. He understood what they were saying.
He had seen how healthy and happy the young men of The Zagreus Den were.
He understood now what Valentine had meant during that first visit when he’d said the young men were given an education.
Brutus and Titus were trying to make their world a better place, whereas Hammond was out for no one else but himself.
Jonathan still wasn’t convinced.
“You expect me to believe that you lot are a good sort of criminal? That you obey some higher law of community and morality?” he asked.
“Yes,” Brutus said with a shrug. “That is precisely what I expect you to believe because it is true.”
“We have never pretended to be saints,” Titus said. “The activities of the Den are diverse, and most of them are not legal. But the people we help and the lives we seek to save mean more to us than our own self-interest.”
Jonathan’s mouth continued to hang open as he stared at the two men in utter disbelief.
As he did, Valentine stepped quietly up to Charlie, handing him a warm cup of tea. He then flicked a look at Jonathan.
The moment should not have made Charlie grin and hold a giggle in his throat, but it did. Because he knew what Valentine was asking of him.
Without pause, Charlie cleared his throat, nudged Jonathan, and when Jonathan turned his head to look at him, he smiled and handed over the tea.
Jonathan’s eyes widened. “You accept all of this?” he asked, his voice wavering on the edge of defeat.
Charlie nodded, moving the teacup closer to him.
“You think I should drink tea, eat cake, smile, and forget our lives were nearly forfeit in someone else’s family feud?” Jonathan asked, taking the teacup without looking at it.
“This is a good place,” Charlie said quietly. “I felt it the first time we came. I feel it now.”
“You could have died.” Jonathan’s voice was hushed and strained, and his eyes turned glassy. “You could have been taken from me like Fabian. How can I forgive anyone for that?”
Charlie shrugged. “I am safe now. Safe with you.”
“We can keep you that way,” Brutus interjected gently. “You have earned your membership in The Zagreus Den, and we care for our own.”
“You will be given rooms here, if you’d like, until all danger from our brother and his allies has passed,” Titus added. “We are prepared to give you anything you ask for as compensation for the troubles we did not expect you to encounter by assisting us.”
He glanced to Brutus, who nodded in agreement.
Jonathan ignored them. He lifted his eyebrows slightly at Charlie, as if asking if this was what he truly wanted.
Charlie had never wanted anything more in his life.
“I do not know what to say,” Jonathan said sullenly, then drank his tea. He even accepted a piece of cake when Valentine handed it to him.
At last, after all the terror of the last few days, Charlie felt peace embrace him.
They would be safe in the care of The Zagreus Den.
Jonathan did not have to like it at first, but Charlie was certain he would appreciate it in time.
And he would find something in the Den that Charlie suspected he had been missing from his life for some time.
He would find like-minded friends who would appreciate him for who he was.
They continued with their tea as if sitting in a palace somewhere without a care in the world.
Brutus and Titus told them more about their pasts and how they had built The Zagreus Den from a loose affiliation of street gangs they had all been part of into an institution with multiple houses across London and all of England.
They spoke a bit about their charitable endeavors, the school for boys that Valentine had mentioned to Charlie, and about their continuing efforts to rescue young people from the workhouses.
Charlie found it all incredible and, after an hour of listening, was summoning the courage to ask questions when one of the Den’s attendants rushed into the room.
“Master Brutus, Master Titus,” the man said, bowing his head respectfully once he was inside the parlor.
“What is it, Fineas?” Titus asked with concern for the young man’s agitation.
Fineas lifted his head and looked first at Jonathan before turning to Titus. “If you please, Master, a fire has just been reported.” He glanced at Jonathan once more.
Charlie’s chest and stomach squeezed and he grasped Jonathan’s thigh, turning to him with wide eyes. He did not need Fineas to go on to know what had happened.
Jonathan stiffened, a look of grief and hopelessness, but not surprise, filling his eyes.
“Go on,” Brutus told Fineas.
Fineas nodded, clasped his hands behind his back like a soldier making a report to his superior, and said, “The photography studio is on fire. The police have been told that the chemicals housed inside ignited, but several men were seen throwing torches through the windows.”
Jonathan’s shoulders sagged. “I knew they would come.”
Charlie felt sick, but also incredibly proud of his master. “You knew they would come,” he said with a weak smile. “You knew, so you developed the photographs at once and took us away from there.”
“He’s right,” Brutus said. “You were clever to act at once, without delay.”
“Is there any indication that Hammond knew Jonathan and Charlie had returned to the shop to develop the photographs or does he think they have yet to return?” Titus asked.
“I do not know,” Fineas said. “I can endeavor to find out.”
“Please do,” Titus said. He nodded to Fineas, who turned to go, then glanced at Jonathan. “It seems our offer to give you shelter here at the Den might be needed more than any of us could have anticipated.”
“In which case, I will accept it gratefully,” Jonathan said, sounding more exhausted than grateful.
Charlie squeezed his master’s thigh, hoping his confidence that they were in the right place would give him hope. There were so many things they could do nothing about, but at least they had landed safely among people who would help them.
“I suppose you are happy about this,” Jonathan said later, once they’d been shown to the small suite of rooms deep within the warren of the connected buildings that made up the premises of the Den.
Charlie had already started unpacking the few bits of clothing they’d managed to bring with them. He couldn’t help but smile contentedly at Jonathan as he worked.
Jonathan huffed a laugh and sank into a large, comfortable-looking chair that sat near a window that looked out onto a courtyard garden. “I suppose I should be happy that at least one of us is content.”
Charlie glanced at Jonathan over his shoulder, almost but not quite rolling his eyes at him, put the folded shirt he held on a shelf in the wardrobe, then abandoned his unpacking to cross the room and kneel between Jonathan’s legs.
“You will be happy here,” he said, resting his hands on Jonathan’s legs.
Jonathan arched one eyebrow. “And you are certain about this?”
Charlie grinned and nodded. “You will have many young men to photograph.”
Jonathan laughed out loud at that. He leaned forward, cupping the side of Charlie’s face and kissing his lips lightly. “You never cease to amaze me with your impishness,” he said, then kissed him again, longer and sweeter.
“I am right, though,” Charlie said breathlessly, once their kiss faded. “I can feel it. You will have a purpose here. You will help and be happy, but you will not have to change yourself in any way.”
Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted as he considered that. “I suppose you are right,” he said. His smile warmed. “Then again, you have always been right thus far.”
Charlie could only smile in reply.
Jonathan leaned in and kissed him again with even more passion than before.
“I do not care where I am or what I am doing with my sorry self,” he said, gazing deeply into Charlie’s eyes. “As long as I am with you, I will be content.” He paused for a moment, then said with feeling, “I love you, Charlie.”
For a moment, that special moment, they were not master and slave, or whatever twist of that relationship their connection would become.
They were two men whose hearts and souls beat in harmony with each other.
They had each seen triumph and failure, each been cast out of the lives they’d been born to, and they had landed safely together.
“I love you, too, Jonathan,” Charlie said, resting a hand on the side of Jonathan’s face.
The feelings between them felt strong enough to conquer any evil that came their way, and Charlie was certain they’d found the home that both of them had always longed for, together.