CHAPTER 25 #3
I nodded, suspecting he wanted a moment to gather himself before he told me the details of his past. He kissed me again, then slid from the bed, headed for the en-suite.
I got up too and cleaned up as much as I could with what I had on hand, then slipped Cal’s t-shirt over my head and straightened up the bed before climbing back into it.
I had just settled into the pillows and pulled the duvet over me when Cal emerged from the bathroom in his boxers. In the dim light from the lamp I saw the hesitant smile he gave me as he climbed in beside me and instantly pulled me against his body.
“Is it that bad?” I asked nervously, resting my head against his bicep and looking up at him.
“It’s a long time since I spoke about it,” he told me.
“Arran and I…we didn’t have a normal childhood.
We lived on a farm outside of Glasgow which was owned by our grandfather on our mother’s side.
It had been in the family for decades, and was once a working farm, but not when we lived there.
Our Grandfather was a criminal. He dealt in guns and drugs which were shipped in illegally through the Shetland islands.
He was powerful in his own right and not a man anyone would ever dare to cross.
He dealt with several gangs and crime families throughout Britain, but the largest was a gang out of Glasgow.
They were the biggest drug importers and dealers in the area back in the eighties and nineties, and they had a nasty reputation for plenty of other disreputable side businesses too.
Our father was a member of this gang, and met our mother during a trade. ”
“Your mother was involved?” I asked, shocked.
“Very involved. She was like her father’s right hand woman.
She dealt with most of the imports, set up trades and deals, even got her hands dirty if the occasion called for it.
She was raised to live in that world and it had made her cold and hard.
When she married our father, who was also heavily involved in the criminal world, it was a match made in heaven. ”
“And they had kids? In that world?”
“Yeah,” Cal scoffed. “Insane, right? I think to them though, they never saw us as children, they saw us as the next generation, there to be trained to take over when they got too old, maintaining their legacy, much like Marcello did with Rafe.”
“That’s what you meant…at Jewels…you said it was who you were raised to be,” I said as it came together.
“We were trained young, had a gun in our hands before we were five. We learned to fight, to shoot, to track. Arran had it worse because he was older. Our father taught him how to survive interrogation from the age of ten. How to use a long range sniper rifle. His driving lessons included losing a tail and evasive manoeuvres when he was a young teen. Our parents wanted us to be unbreakable machines and to do that, they tried and succeeded in breaking us over and over. They beat us, tested us in ways I won’t even speak of.
Arran went through so much worse, but it happened to both of us on some scale.
They made Arran into the machine they wanted him to be, and I was on my way.
Only the fact we had each other got us through. ”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered tearfully as I pressed my face to his chest and held him. I hated the words. They were useless, but what else could I say?
“I’m not. Not anymore. I’m glad I have the skills I have, now that I can rely on them to keep you safe,” he told me, kissing my head.
“Anyway, things changed. When Arran was around fifteen, my grandfather died of a heart attack and the business passed to our Mum, with our Dad at her side. Within six months they’d tried to expand, always greedy for more money, and they fucked it all up.
We never knew the exact specifics because we weren’t deemed ‘ready’ to be a real part of the business yet, not even Arran, but things started to go bad.
Deliveries got ambushed and stolen. Men who worked for the family got killed or just disappeared.
They lost customers because they became unreliable, so Dad went looking for new buyers. One of those buyers was Marcello.”
“Bad move,” I uttered.
“Yeah. Two months of supplying the old bastard with guns and drugs, then a missed shipment. Our father took the money, but the goods never arrived in Shetland. He and Mum strung Marcello along for a while, telling him the goods were coming, but of course, they weren’t.
The incoming shipment had disappeared and with how badly our parents had messed everything up, they didn’t have the means to bring in more. ”
“What happened?”
“Marcello was not a man you could trifle with, but our parents were cocky. They believed they were in a good position. Marcello needed the shipment so he wouldn’t do anything until he got it.
Marcello’s men came late at night. Arran and I were sleeping out in one of the barns, another test of endurance.
Arran heard the cars first, then the men.
We both considered trying to do something, but I was still a kid, and Marcello sent over a dozen men.
We had no choice but to run and hide. The gunshots started when we were running through the woods behind the farm.
They lasted a few minutes. Loud and relentless, then there was just silence. ”
“I’m so thankful you weren’t in that house, either of you,” I admitted shakily.
“We hid for a while, deep in the woods, but there was no sign of anyone looking for us. Eventually we both walked back to the farm. The cars were gone and it was so silent. Arran told me to wait by the front door, but I couldn’t.
I had to see. They were both dead, of course.
Our Dad at the top of the stairs, a shotgun laid out beside him, multiple shots to his body.
Our Mum was in their bedroom, laid out across the bed, multiple bullet wounds.
The house had been annihilated too. There was nothing left, but blood and death. ”
“Marcello was a monster.”
“He was, but my parents knew that and chose to fuck with him anyway. They brought their deaths on themselves,” Cal pointed out. Still I heard some pain in his voice.
“You miss them?” I questioned.
“No,” Cal laughed dryly and looked to me.
“They were monsters too. The way they treated us, the way they broke us over and over, all in the name of succession, and never a thing to do with love, they were definitely their own brand of monsters. I didn’t cry when I saw their bodies.
Arran didn’t either. I think we were sort of numb really.
There was relief that they were gone and we were free.
But also this weird sense of anger, that we had been trained to feel, because the family legacy was over.
While I learned to hold onto the relief and freedom, Arran grabbed onto the anger to get through. ”
“Anger?”
“He wanted revenge. After the way he had been conditioned, he felt like it was his duty. He packed bags. We had no money, the house was looted by Marcello’s men, but it didn’t stop Arran.
We left Glasgow with what we could carry, most of which was weapons.
It was a shitty journey. Arran had to earn money, so we stopped everywhere, and I had to hideout while he did jobs, both illegal and legal but paid cash.
We slept rough, barely ate. I got ill with a nasty chest infection made worse by sleeping in the snowy streets and we couldn’t go to a doctor because we were very obviously too young to be alone.
Arran was terrified social services would be brought in and separate us.
I was at deaths door by the time we made it to London.
It had taken weeks and we were both weakened.
Arran had lost so much weight trying to keep me fed and cared for.
By the time he broke into the De Santis estate, ready to take Marcello out, he could barely hold a gun up, but he was determined. ”
“Fuck, Cal! Did Marcello catch him?” I gasped in horror.
“Marcello was dead. Rafe caught Arran, but not before my brother held a gun to the head of yours.”
“Thank God Marcello was dead!”
“Rafe stayed calm, explained that the old bastard was dead, and that he was relieved for the fact. He talked Arran down. Arran was just lowering the gun from Rafe’s head when I blacked out, unable to hold on any more.
Rafe got me a doctor and took care of both of us.
Arran was distrustful at first, but also grateful that he and Dario basically saved my life. ”
“And you stayed?”
“It took time. Arran didn’t trust anyone and he was so messed up after what our parents did to him. He started working for Rafe as a driver, and Rafe got me into school when I was well enough. We lived with him, but stayed out of his way most of the time.
Arran made friends with Dante and that helped, because Dante sort of got what Arran had been through, since his father had done much the same to him.
In time Arran settled some, and I was happy at school and with a safe place to sleep when I got home.
Then someone at school called social services.
It was obvious Rafe wasn’t my father. He was too young. Questions were asked and calls made.”
“They would have taken you away?”
“Of course they would if I didn’t have a legal guardian. I was living with only young guys, some with criminal records. I was definitely getting taken away.”
“So what happened?”
“Arran was already packed and ready to run with me, but Rafe came up with something better. Terza. He had papers forged with my parents signatures, listing Terza as my and Arran’s guardian should something happen to them.
By the time social services came to the house, Terza answered the door with the official proof that Arran and I were in her guardianship.
It was all legal as far as anyone could see and the file on us was closed.
After that Arran stopped suspecting Rafe and they became close.
We were safe, then when Arran turned eighteen, Rafe helped him get custody of me.
We stayed and found our odd family here, and the rest, is history. ”
“And you and Arran? You must carry scars from what your parents put you through?” I pushed.
“I was younger. I didn’t get quite so indoctrinated as Arran did.
I was relieved when they died, and I learned to let go of them and the past as I got older, mostly, anyway,” he shrugged.
“It was harder for Arran. He had a lot of counselling, both professional and from Dante. He doesn’t feel anything for our parents any longer.
Hates them if I bring them up, and I think that’s for the best. It took time, but he’s built a life for himself outside of his past now, a life he’s happy in, even more so since we got you.
I think he still struggles at times. His scars are deeper than mine, but we have each other and now we have you. We’re okay.”
“It terrifies me to know how many times I almost lost you both before I even found you,” I admitted as I clung to him as tight as I could.
“Just proves how hard we are to get rid of, babe,” he smiled. “We’re not going anywhere any time soon.”
“You better not.”
“Enough talking now. You need to try and sleep. Do you feel tired?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“Then close those beautiful eyes and just relax. I’m staying with you right here. You’re safe. Sleep,” he told me gently. I was going to argue, but as soon as my eyes closed they felt heavy and that was the last thought I remembered having.