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Page 1 of Memories of the Dark

CHAPTER 1

Fergus Trevellyan opened his eyes and stretched his arms above his head, then shifted a little, letting out a small sigh of contentment. Ever since he was a little child, the moments right before he woke up were the ones he treasured most and, nothing, not even the years spent under Blair Greenwood’s harsh domination, changed that.

Folding his hands under his head, Fergus chased away the image of the man threateningly towering over him, always ready to inflict some kind of punishment on his fragile body. Instead, he focused on what he had gained during the almost six months since they had separated, a small smile gracing his attractive features.

First of all, it was the friendship he’d forged with his protector, Fabian Bloom, whose sensibility, mild manners and understanding helped him put his old life behind him and start building a new one from scratch. Fergus also appreciated very much the company of Lance Hansen, who, in spite of his somewhat rougher appearance, was a very cultivated man with an affectionate, caring nature.

Fergus’s smile grew wider and brighter when he thought about Rowan, the slim, blond, long-haired teen whose antics amused him and who brought a lot of light and warmth into his life. He also admired the kid for his brilliant mind and the passion he put into studying and deciphering the fascinating code the human genome was.

The affection Fergus had for Rowan was more of a paternal nature than brotherly, the kid himself considering him an uncle of sorts. On the other hand, Dunbar, the other protegee of Fabian, who spent eight years in prison before coming to live with them, made Fergus’s protective instincts kick in, and he saw the man as the younger brother he never had.

However, the biggest changes in his life happened in the little over two months since he’d gone to live with his twin brother, Ardan, and his family, per his protector’s advice. There, almost seventeen years after his adoptive parents passed away, Fergus felt part of a family again. He experienced the feeling of being surrounded by the love of those who shared the same blood.

The many toddlers at The Base, but especially his niece Paisley and nephew Axel, represented a continuous source of happiness for the man, whose husband’s malevolent actions deprived him of the joy of parenthood. The children’s giggles as they burrowed their heads into his chest were sweet music to Fergus’s ears, always bringing a smile to his face.

Back in London, in spite of his wealth and connections, the man was less than the dirt under his husband’s and his associates’ shoes. At The Base, everyone respected him and sought his friendship, giving him space at the same time, something they’d learned over the years of interacting with scared, abused kids.

His younger brothers, Caleb and Brennan, together with their partners, embraced Fergus and made him part of their life right away, but it was Ardan who showed him the most affection. He had a special manner of doing it, very discreet, through small gestures of kindness that reminded Fergus very much of Fabian.

Taking a look at the clock on the nightstand, the man decided to get out of bed, heading to the bathroom where he started his morning ritual that invariably ended with a quick shower, making him feel invigorated and refreshed for the whole day. While the hot droplets of water cascaded over Fergus’s body, relaxing his muscles, his thoughts took another turn, focusing on his twin.

With his gentle, low voice and soft gaze, Ardan had won his heart in a matter of seconds, and he’d felt, almost instantly, that connection only twins shared. However, distrustful as he was, the man had hesitated to leave the cocoon of comfort and safety Fabian had created for him at his mansion. When he’d finally accepted his brother’s invitation to come to The Base and live in his house, Fergus had regretted he hadn’t taken that step earlier.

Everyone in Ardan’s family, from the man himself and his red-haired husband, Alasdair, to the two always happy, smiling toddlers, surrounded him with warmth and affection. His twin, Fabian and all the other men at The Base, Fergus realized, lived in a crazy, dangerous and cruel world, dealing with horrible things on a daily basis, and that house represented a safe harbour, an oasis of calmness in the middle of a desert of fear, anger, ruthlessness and madness.

As he stepped out of the shower and started to dry, Fergus’s stomach grumbled in protest, reminding him that it was breakfast time. Most likely, the man thought, smiling inwardly, Ardan was already in the kitchen cooking for the whole family with Alasdair as his trusted help.

Indeed, downstairs, the master of the house finished cooking the omelet while his husband was busy setting up the table. From time to time, Alasdair eyed the other man’s swaying hips and his perfectly-shaped ass with a hungry look, images of their previous night’s lovemaking fresh in his memory. In spite of the peaceful atmosphere, the redhead had a very bad feeling about the day ahead, and he couldn’t shake it off, no matter how hard he tried.

“Good morning, lovebirds! Mmm, it smells divine. What an epic feast for my epic hunger!” Fergus stepped into the kitchen, wearing a pair of light grey, comfortable sweatpants and a black turtleneck shirt.

“Good morning to you, too, brother! It’s Mister Grant’s special omelet recipe with some minor modifications. I cook it quite often because it’s one of the kids’ favorite breakfast meals.” Ardan’s turquoise eyes were shining with paternal love when he spoke about his teenage sons and their friends, his smile radiant.

“Morning, Fergus, you look great! Did you bring Everly too? Or is he still having another lazy morning? Not that these aren’t necessary too.” Alasdair examined his brother-in-law’s face, trying to detect the slightest sign of distress at the mentioning of his protective, strong, determined alter-ego.

“He’s sleeping. The long hours of being awake during the past decade and a half has taken a heavy toll on him. Taking care of me wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, especially when my husband was around.” Fergus inhaled sharply, managing to keep the bad memories away. “Is the little ones’ breakfasts ready so I can bring them here?” The man’s eyes, lifeless until then, brightened when he mentioned his young niece and nephew.

“Not yet, but you can go into the nursery and spend some time with them. Paisley’s eyes were already wide-open half an hour ago when we checked. Axel must also be awake by now. They’ll be happy to see Uncle ‘Gus and cover him in sticky kisses.” Alasdair grinned as a very excited Fergus stepped out of the kitchen, heading to the nursery.

“What was that about? You never delay the little ones’ breakfast, not without a rock-solid reason. Are they unwell?” Ardan’s eyes were troubled, his voice filled with concern.

“Both Paisley and Axel are healthy and strong, but I can’t say the same thing about their papa. There is something you’re hiding from me, and it’s eating you alive. I called Mister Bloom, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea, either.” Alasdair put both hands on his husband’s shoulders, staring deep into his magnificent, suddenly saddened eyes.

“My father called me yesterday morning and asked to see me this morning at his headquarters. He wants us to talk about Fergus, says he wants to see him, and I can’t deny this sacred right to him. In spite of everything that was said between us, he is still my father, and it’s my filial duty to obey him. Within certain limits, of course.”

Alasdair was about to reply when Fergus came back to the kitchen, the twin toddlers safely cocooned in his arms, cutting him short. Shaking his head and muttering some not-so-nice words about his father-in-law’s attitude, the redhead started to prepare the children’s breakfast. Ardan helped his twin put Paisley and Axel into their highchairs, the barely there smile reappearing on his lips, even if only for a short while.

From the corner of his eye, the man studied the redhead, sighing inwardly when he saw his tight jaw and darkened, almost black eyes.Now the Spitfire will worry unnecessarily, exactly what I’ve tried so hard to avoid,he thought, chest constricted in pain. The relationship between Alasdair and Godfrey MacNamara hadn’t been cordial for about eight months, but the coldness the man showed to Ardan for defending his brothers’ life choices created a huge rift between the two of them.

Paisley’s chirping voice calling for her papa’s attention brought the man back to the happy reality of his peaceful family life, and he pushed aside all the worries, at least for the time being. A couple more hours and this meeting will be over, allowing me to focus on the really important things, Ardan thought, listening to the funny conversation between his children and their uncle Fergus.

****

An evil, satisfied smirk on his face, Blair Greenwood took one more look at the long message on his phone’s screen, then pressed the delete button. Plopping on an armchair that creaked under his weight, the man muttered a long, complicated curse.Who knew everything was so goddamn simple,he thought, frustrated.All this precious time wasted in the company of the worthless wimp when everything could have been solved so quick and easy.

Greenwood cast a disgusted look at the motel room with its threadbare carpets, creaky floor and furniture that threatened to fall apart every time it was used according to its designation. With his assets from England and Scotland blocked again by a police investigation and his US accounts frozen by the order of that Ian Saint-Clair devil, that shithole was all he could afford at the moment.

Forty days. He just had to sit on his ass and wait for forty more bloody days and the huge Trevellyan estate would finally belong to him like it was supposed to have been from the start. Several billions of dollars in stock, liquid assets, jewelry, antique cars and real estate properties. The right compensation for the almost seventeen long years he spent in the company of that fucking little whiner, Greenwood thought hatefully.




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