Under Your Care

Chapter 20

Greyson

It was approximately an hour and a half after our text conversation when I checked his location. The tracking chip I’d previously put in him allowed me to feel comfortable enough to let Lane go out of the apartment on his own. I frowned when I saw on the GPS map that Lane was out of the city limits. I tried to stay calm, coming up with various reasons that my boy would be in the middle of nowhere without mentioning anything to me. They weren’t sound reasons, but I didn’t want to lose my temper with him if he had gone on a spontaneous nature hike. Still, it was unlike him to not update me on his plans. I called his phone after double-checking that I hadn't received another text from him. No answer. I continued calling as I left the office, shouting to Amelia that I had an emergency. She’d need to reschedule my next client.

I ground my teeth as I hurried across the parking lot to my car. As I sped out of the parking lot - heading towards Lane’s location - I called my brothers for backup. Luckily, they were available and nearby. I could hardly focus on the road ahead of me. I felt in my gut that something had gone wrong. Lane had been doing so well lately - he was the perfect boy. Oliver had gotten in his head last time, but there was zero possibility that he was involved in whatever was going on now. From what I knew about my brothers, he was being kept under lock and key.

My knuckles turned stark white from the grip I had on the steering wheel. I didn’t feel good about the fact that Lane’s dot on the map hadn’t moved at all during the last thirty minutes. If he was on a hike - which I highly doubted - his location would have been steadily moving as he walked through the woods.

I parked a fair distance away from Lane’s location, wanting to have the element of surprise on our side if necessary. My skin felt tight as I waited for my brothers to pull up. I pushed up from where I was leaning against the door of my car, making the decision to go in alone. They’d catch up.

I followed the coordinates deeper into the underbrush until I spotted a decrepit structure about fifteen yards away from where I stood. Glancing down at my watch, I confirmed that Lane was in there. As I stepped closer, I recognized that the building was an old, dilapidated barn. Yeah, there was no way my princess willingly was hanging out in this tetanus trap.

I paused as I heard a stressed voice leaking out of the barn.

“I know, fuck , I’m sorry. Why does it even matter? He’ll heal.” A short pause occurred before the man spoke again. “Fuck. You should’ve said something before ! How the fuck was I supposed to know that? I need you to take him. He can still be used while he’s healing. Sure, he’s not the prettiest to look at now, but he has a perfectly fine mouth and ass! C’mon, man! We had a deal! Shit!”

I continued to listen as the man ranted. He began to sound increasingly frantic and enraged. I heard what sounded like rotted wood being hit over and over. I lifted my gun and spun into the barn. The man - maybe early thirties, stick thin, matted blonde hair, a crazed look in his eyes - turned towards me and froze as he clocked the weapon pointed at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He spat.

“I’d like to ask you the same question,” I demanded, stepping further into the rundown space. “Where is Lane?”

The man’s eyes went wide before his brows lowered and he sneered, “Who. The. Fuck. Are. You? Answer the damn question and I’ll answer yours.”

“I’m his husband.” Soon-to-be, at least.

He flinched back, obviously thrown off. “Lane doesn’t have a husband.”

I used my gun-free hand to gesture up and down my body. “Well, here I am. The husband.” I shook my head in annoyance. “Now, where the fuck is Lane? I know he’s here.”

The man cursed, “Did Williams send you? You guys can’t just take him for free! Fucking bullshit.”

I growled, “Where is he?” The man was fuming, glancing to the small bench behind me where his gun was laid.

“Ugh. Fine, man. He’s in the third stall - keys in my pocket. This was such a fucking waste of time,” he raged, face red.

Responding wasn’t necessary at this point. I lowered my gun slightly and fired a shot into his left calf. He fell to the ground, screaming and cursing. I walked over to where he was squirming in the dirt and kneeled, one knee on his throat. I quickly found the keys and stood, leaving him.

The stall door creaked as I pulled it open. What I saw when I took a step into the small enclosure made my heart stop. I rushed to the corner and fell to my knees, overlooking the battered and broken body of my baby boy. My hands shook as I tried to wake him, as I begged for him not to leave me. My lungs suddenly expanded as I felt a pulse. I tried to gather him in my arms as gently as possible, but tiny groans left his lips when I lifted him off the ground. I gaped down at his bruised and bloodied face; my veins froze over as I looked at streaks of dried semen on his chest and chin. I gripped his body tighter in anger, loosening my hold when his face scrunched in discomfort.

“What the fuck happened here?”

My head jumped up as I recognized Hayes’ voice. My brothers sauntered into the barn, curious looks on their faces. As they came closer and saw Lane limp in my arms, small frowns appeared on their faces.

“Is he alive?” Hudson asked, head tilted. I nodded roughly, stepping around my brothers to leave the barn.

“I’m taking him to the hospital. The guy who did it is inside. Single gunshot wound to his left calf. Keep him alive and contained. I’ll deal with him later,” I snarled.

“Of course, brother. We’ll keep in contact,” Hudson confirmed as they walked further into the building, ready to get to work.

***

“He has a concussion, bruised ribs, a fracture to his left ankle, a fracture to the right orbital, and potential permanent damage to his right eye. We’ll need to do some further testing, but it’s possible he won’t regain sight in that eye. We did check for any signs of a sexual assault. I can confidently say that he was not anally penetrated, but we’re not able to determine if he was assaulted in other ways.”

“Okay. Will he… be okay? He’ll wake up?” I hesitantly questioned.

The ER doctor sighed but nodded. “He should wake up soon. I assure you that we’re doing everything we can for him. The orthopedic surgeon will be down within the hour to discuss treatment options for Mr. Bennett’s ankle.” After throwing a quick glance to Lane, the doctor added, “He’ll need to speak with the police once he wakes. Just warning you, but you’re not going to be allowed to sit with him while he’s interviewed. You seem… very involved in his care, so I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Thank you, doctor. It’s appreciated,” I gave him a tight smile. He nodded, then left us alone in the small room .

I fiddled with the thin hospital blankets covering Lane. The young nurses had giggled and looked at me with hearts in their eyes when I asked for several more blankets. I overheard them gossiping amongst each other about how I’m “such a perfect husband” and “if he were straight I would literally fight to the death to have him as my boyfriend.” I didn’t quite understand how requesting extra blankets and sitting at his bedside made me so attractive. I mean, sure, I may have bought a few teddy bears at the hospital gift shop, but Lane deserved softness after what he went through.

Lane looked like a broken doll laying in the hospital bed. He looked so small, so helpless. His normally perfect porcelain skin was marred by black, blue, and yellow bruises. Selfishly, I was almost as mad that he had been so thoroughly marked by another man than at the fact that he was in pain. I would never cover his entire body in bruises like it was now, but I was addicted to seeing my marks on him. Now I had to wait until these bruises faded before having my beautiful blank canvas back.

While I looked over Lane’s battered body, I was hit by the urge to permanently mark his skin. I got lost in thought while contemplating different ways to achieve my goal that I missed the moment his eyelids fluttered open.

“Daddy?” He whispered, his voice strained. My head whipped over to look at him. His eyes seemed foggy, like he wasn’t all there yet. I supposed that was the concussion.

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here. You’re safe now,” I told him softly. I carefully placed his hand in mine, stroking soothing circles into his skin. I reached over to push the call button with my other hand. A nurse entered the room, smiling brightly as she saw that Lane was awake. She spoke encouraging words to him while taking his vitals. When he complained of pain, more medication was added to his IV bag.

Over the next two hours, Lane’s hospital room was a revolving door of nurses, police, and doctors. After giving his statement privately to officers, he called for me to come in.

“Hey, princess. How did it go?”

“Okay, I think.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “We need to talk, but not here.”

I frowned. “Okay.” He couldn’t have known that we had his attacker, so I wasn’t sure what required discretion. Lane tried to give me a reassuring smile, but we both ended up laughing about how awkward it looked.

Unfortunately, Lane’s ankle needed emergency surgery due to the severity of the injury. The orthopedic doctor explained to us that Lane’s ankle bone had been shattered into several fragments. Lane stared down at one of his new teddy bears while the surgeon noted that he had only ever seen such a severe ankle injury in car accident victims. The more I heard, the stronger the urge to pulverize the man who hurt Lane.

Luckily enough, the surgery was relatively quick with no complications. Groggy from the anesthesia, Lane joked that he now was part robot since he now had a metal ankle. I rolled my eyes but was beyond pleased that he was joking and laughing, considering what he’d gone through just hours earlier.

I felt drawn in two directions. Part of me needed to comfort Lane and stay with him to guard him from anyone or anything that could harm him; part of me needed to drive over to my brothers’ house and kill that bastard. Thinking about what Lane needed from me at that moment, I chose to stay. He was too fragile.

I definitely needed to teach him how to shoot.

After staying overnight in order for the hospital staff to monitor for any post-op complications, Lane was cleared for discharge. As I drove us home, I couldn’t hold back the need to understand how all of this had happened.

“I know it might be hard to talk about right now, but I need you to tell me what happened. I want you to understand that I am not mad at you. What happened isn’t your fault. It was my responsibility to protect you, but I wasn’t there when you needed me. I’m so sorry, princess. Can you talk to me, please?” I glanced over to where he was seated in the passenger seat. His gaze was downcast, focused on his hands wringing in his lap.

I took a deep breath, hoping to coax him into speaking, “We have him.” Lane startled and lifted his head to look over at me. I continued, “He’s alive and in the twins’ basement. I wanted to wait to hear from you about what happened before we decide what to do with him.”

I reached over to hold his shaking thigh. Almost instantaneously, I felt Lane’s hand cover my own.

He hesitated, shoulders tensed, before squeaking, “Tate. It was Tate.” Upon hearing that name, I immediately pulled off the road and parked. Lane asked, “Why did you pull over?”

I adjusted my seat as far back as it could go. “You need to be in my lap for this conversation. Crawl over here, baby,” I instructed. He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and clumsily climbed over the center console, careful to keep his injured ankle from bumping into anything. He seemed to relax as soon as he was in my arms. He nuzzled his head into my chest and breathed me in.

I stroked soothing circles onto his back as I spoke, “Tate is dead, honey. There’s no coming back from what I did to him. Maybe your brain replaced this man with Tate? You do have a concussion.”

He shook his head, silky curls bouncing around below my chin. He breathed, “It was Tate. He said that you killed his friend.”

My brow furrowed. Lane placed a hand on my chest and pushed out to look me in the eyes.

He spoke with no doubt in his voice, “Listen to me. I know that I’m sick in the head. We all know that. This is not that. It was Tate. I would bet Chloe’s life on it.”

“You’re that sure?”

He huffed, “A million percent, Grey. Just ask him, he’ll tell you.”

“Alright, I believe you, baby. I’m so sorry. Oh, baby.”

Lane whispered, voice cracking as he tried not to cry, “I-I was so scared, Daddy. I– He–” I rested my chin on the top of his head as he began sobbing into me. It was several minutes before the tears dried up.

“I’m so sorry, baby. You were so brave without me. You did so well holding out until Daddy could find you. I’m so proud of you,” I praised, placing a kiss on his head.

“It’s not your fault, Daddy. But I don’t think I’ll feel comfortable going out without you for a while,” he shrugged.

Over the next half an hour, Lane explained how Tate had taken him, what Tate did to him, and what may have happened if I hadn’t arrived when I did. My boy was exhausted by the time his story was over. We sat in silence for a few minutes before Lane spoke.

“How did you find me?” He curiously asked, head tilted.

“You don’t know?” I questioned, somewhat shocked that he hadn’t known about his tracker. Lane shook his head. “You have a GPS tracker at the base of your skull.”

Lane’s head reeled back. “What? No I don’t!” I chuckled and nodded. “Since when? What the heck! Jesus, how did I not notice?” He started feeling around, trying to pinpoint the little device.

I tenderly laughed and guided his hand with my own. “There. That little bump. Do you feel it?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just– Like… What the fuck, Grey?” Lane laughed, an incredulous look on his face. “I’m glad it’s there, obviously, but I’m just… I don’t even have the words. Fuck. Okay, when did you put it in there? How did you put it in there?”

I grinned, holding him close to my chest. “Right after your little escape incident. I sedated you, numbed the area, made a small cut, and voila. I thought you knew about it but just weren’t going to bring it up.”

He pouted, “You should know by now that I wouldn’t be able to not bring that up.”

***

It was another hour before we pulled into my brothers’ driveway. Lane’s hands fidgeted in his lap as he peered through the windshield at the house in front of us.

“Are you sure that you want to do this?” I patiently asked. “You don’t have to see him, sweetheart. Maybe it could wait until you’ve healed?”

Lane took a deep breath and straightened in his seat, chest out and shoulders back. “No, I can’t wait. I have to do this, Grey. I’m… I want to do this. I can’t explain it, but when you told me you had killed him… I felt upset, almost jealous. I was glad he was gone, but there was this feeling that you took the chance I had for revenge. I wish I didn’t have to be beaten within an inch of death, but I’m sorta relieved that I can do this.”

“Okay,” I accepted.

I helped Lane out of the car, forgoing his crutch by having him lean on me instead. We walked up to the home’s front door. To my surprise, the door swung open once we were a couple of feet from it. They never greeted me at the door. Hudson loomed in the doorway, watching us with a blank look on his face. Within moments, his mask slid into place and he warmly gestured us in. Lane huddled into my side, gripping my arm, a look of distrust aimed at my brother as we passed him into the foyer.

“Any issues with him?” I asked Hudson as the three of us walked through the house to the door that led to the basement.

As he punched the code into the keypad, he shook his head. “Not really. He kept whining so we gagged him. Since then, we’ve been able to just ignore him.” The door’s lock disengaged, allowing us to go through and walk down the stairs. As normal, the door automatically locked behind us.

Lane was eerily quiet beside me. He raised his eyebrows when he realized we were walking towards another locked door. I pulled him even closer into my side as the entrance opened, revealing the cement walls of the twins’ torture room. His steps stuttered when his gaze found who it was searching for. I was ready to stop and turn around without a word if he wanted. My lip twitched up as he took a breath and continued walking forward, a certain confidence now exuding from him.

He only faltered when he saw his friend in the corner of the room, sitting at Hayes’ feet. The two locked onto each other. But while Lane began walking over to him, Oliver fretted and seemed to lean into my brother’s leg for support.

“Hey…” Lane said tentatively. Hayes ran his hand through Oliver’s hair, catching his attention.

“Go ahead,” Hayes instructed. Lane frowned and looked back at me. I shrugged, knowing he was concerned for his friend. Oliver seemed well-enough. He was alive, so that was all that really mattered.

Oliver stood on shaky legs and opened his arms, grunting when Lane limped forward and threw his arms around his tiny figure. The strength of Lane’s hug lifted Oliver’s feet off the ground for a few seconds. As his feet returned to the ground, he kept himself buried in Lane’s chest.

“I’m so sorry,” Oliver mumbled, voice barely audible to anyone except Lane.

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve been more open with you. Can we go back to being best friends again?”

Oliver nodded and squeezed his arms tighter. “I would’ve contacted you sooner, I promise. It’s just that…” He glanced at Hudson who was now leaning against the basement wall. Oliver swallowed before continuing, “I’m supposed to get my phone back soon. We can text like normal. Oh, and we can ha ng out again like normal. Okay?”

Lane frowned again, clearly unsatisfied. He bent down so that he was speaking directly into his friend’s ear. I shared a look with my brothers as our partners whispered to each other. Our partners . That was weird to think about.

Lane turned to face me, seemingly done with his whispered conversation. “I’m ready.” His gaze flicked over to the center of the room where his cousin was strapped to a gurney.

Oliver returned to Hayes’ side, sliding down to the floor once more. Hudson sauntered over to stand on his other side. It was oddly thoughtful for my brothers to be hands-off this kill. Maybe we had Oliver to thank for that.

I held my hand on the small of Lane’s back as we slowly walked to Tate. As we stopped next to the gurney, Lane looked down at his cousin, while I kept my eyes focused on him. His eyes were pools of immeasurable sadness. He stood completely still, the only movement being his eyes raking over the bound body below him. I watched - transfixed - as he stared down at his living nightmare. I wondered what was going through his mind. The man who had caused him so much fear, so much pain, lay completely helpless just inches away.

My breath faltered momentarily as those eyes filled with misery met my own.

“I love you,” he murmured.

I pulled him to my chest. “I love you too, little fawn.”

“Forever?”

“Always.”

He smiled shakily up at me, tears brimming in his eyes. “I’m not sure if I should say something to him first.”

I placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. “You can do this however feels right.”

Lane gently pulled out of my embrace and stepped over to where he was standing near Tate’s upper body. I made no move to remove his gag. His eyes were panicked but glaring daggers up at Lane.

The room was dead silent when Lane began to speak. He held Tate’s gaze as he did so.

“I’ve made countless speeches to you in my head over the years. I never expected to be able to actually recite them to you. It’s so weird being able to speak uninterrupted like this… Do you still remember the last time? You said that you’d gotten a girlfriend so you didn’t need me anymore. That you weren’t a homo. It felt so strange…” Lane seemed to wander into a memory.

He spoke clearly and concisely; he looked calm. “I’d gone so long thinking that it would never end. I was a kid, Tate. I was just a kid …” He closed his eyes for a moment as he breathed deeply. “And when you said you didn’t need me anymore, I felt destroyed. It was so confusing, you know? I hated every little thing you did to me. I hated even looking at you or hearing your name. So why the fuck was I upset that you were letting me go? I couldn’t figure that out for years. I went through highschool thinking I was sick and perverted. But, no… No, I felt that way because you had killed my motherfucking soul and then thrown away the husk of my body. I was a fucking child who was made to believe no one would ever want me but you, and then you fucking left? I’m glad you did. I’m even grateful for it. But I felt so messed up. I felt like maybe I wasn’t actually a victim since I wasn’t jumping for joy when you abandoned me.”

A glance over to the corner showed me that Oliver was quietly crying into Hayes’ leg. My eyes met his. For a moment, we were just two people who mourned for the life that was lost, and the life that was made.

Lane continued, “I wish there was something I could say that would make you understand, but there’s not. You’re the exact same now as you were back then. In your eyes, your preteen cousin was obviously seducing you and you just had to rape me. Although, you probably don’t consider it rape, do you? How deranged are you that you truly believe I wanted it? I’ve tried so hard to understand why . I’ve tried to make excuses for you in my mind. I’ve gone back and forth for years in my head about whether or not those two years actually happened or if I had made it all up. I questioned my very reality because of you.”

We all watched as he circled the gurney to reach the array of weapons my brothers had laid out for him. He spent no time deciding, picking up a butcher knife. My princess had seemingly developed a taste for knives.

Lane placed a hand on the edge of the gurney, pushing it to see if it’d move. When it didn’t budge, he held the blade of the knife between his teeth and climbed onto the gurney to straddle Tate’s abdomen. I bristled at Lane being on top of another man, but the sight of him with that knife between his plush lips was worth it.

Once he was settled, he took the blade from his lips and held it at his side. He stared down at his abuser, having forgotten our presence long ago.

“I’ve been thinking about how to kill you. I thought about torturing you. I thought of a lot of inventive ways of murdering someone. But now I’m just tired of spending my time thinking of you. I want to go home, have my boyfriend pamper me, order sushi, and fuck. I want to watch a movie in his lap while my cat sits in mine. I want to forget you ever existed. And I will. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not even a month from now, but eventually. You won’t control me any longer. I’ll no longer want to throw up when I see your name. I’ll be able to drink the brand of beer you always made me drink.”

“The reality, Tate, is that you have done nothing in your life to be remembered by,” Lane said. “I stabbed another guy to death recently. I don’t remember most of it, but apparently it was pretty gruesome. Honestly, I think I took out all the violence meant for you on him. You could consider yourself lucky, or you could piss yourself thinking about how slow this blade will pierce you. I’m going to savor every second of it.”

Lane held the knife just above the right side of Tate’s chest. He steadily pushed the blade into his skin. We watched as centimeter after centimeter disappeared. When a little over half of the blade was in, Lane twisted the knife and plunged it to the hilt. He then smoothly and quickly pulled the knife from its sheath. Blood flowed freely out of the wound, cascading down Tate’s sides onto the gurney.

I stepped around the side to stand facing Lane. He lifted his head and met my eye contact, sharing a moment of silence with me. He sat, slightly panting, on the now dead body of the man who had plagued his thoughts for years. His hair brushed against his shoulders as they rose and fell in time to his breaths. Those expressive eyes of his displayed a storm inside of him. It was just him and I when I stepped forward, leaning slightly over the top of the gurney. Lane’s eyes closed as he surged forward and kissed me. My hands came up to cradle his head between them. As I deepened the kiss, Lane’s lips parted for me, a small, needy whimper escaping.

It didn’t escape me that we were passionately making out just a foot or two above Tate’s head. Lane gently nipped my bottom lip before pulling back an inch and resting his forehead on mine.

He breathed, “Thank you.”

“For what, baby?”

His eyelids fluttered open, long auburn lashes framing his ocean eyes. He spoke, his gaze not leaving mine, “For letting me really live again.” I brushed my thumb over his cheek.

I murmured curiously, “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“Before we met, I was just going through the motions. I felt so broken, Grey. I was alive, but I wasn’t living. You didn’t need to give me his life for me to feel alive. I’m glad he’s gone, but right now, I don’t feel any different from how I felt before his heart stopped. He didn’t need to be dead for me to feel complete. You complete me, Grey.”

“Baby–”

“I’m not done,” he grumbled, bringing an adoring smile to my lips. “I just don’t want you to think that I love you only because you gave me justice. I love you so much, Greyson.” Lane’s voice caught in his throat. He whispered, “Can we get married?”

I was not expecting that. A laugh bubbled out of me, actual joy flooding my system. I shook my head in disbelief. “Baby, are you proposing? And here I was, planning a whole thing, just for you to ask me from on top of a dead body.”

He happily giggled while rolling his eyes, “I guess it was a silly question. Your “proposal” would have just been you telling me that we’re getting married.” Lane’s mouth dropped open as an idea popped into his mind. “I need to buy wedding lingerie!”

I lovingly chuckled, holding up my hand to help him step down to the floor. “I have to get you a pretty, little ring first. Maybe some other pieces as well… First things first, let’s get you home. I believe you mentioned pampering, sushi, fucking, and watching a movie?”

A brilliant smile accompanied his laugh, “Maybe it can be pampering, fucking, sushi, fucking, watching a movie, and more fucking?”

“Whatever you want, princess,” I grinned.