Kept Boy to Made Man - 24. Come Together

Roger Cicero sat in stunned disbelief as Dominic De Luca and his great-grandsons, Elio and Emilio, followed the large bodyguard from the gym. He was given no time to process the confounding conversation.

“Okay, what just happened?” Thomas asked the question, but three expectant faces waited for the answer.

“You just met the man that may or may not run the Italian mafia,” Roger said flatly before trying to break the tension with a little humor. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

The joke was not well received.

“I’m serious Roger. That car pulling up scared the shit out of me.” Thomas looked quickly towards Sandra. “Sorry, but it did.”

“This time, I think that word is appropriate. Start talking Roger. Was Brendon the brother or the boyfriend in that man’s parting remarks? I think I would remember giving birth to twin boys.” Sandra’s attempt at humor was far more successful than Roger’s had been.

Sandra looked more concerned than the teenagers, but Roger didn’t blame her; Interacting with the Italian mafia wasn’t new to him, but he could understand how a mother may find it difficult to accept that her son had been roughhousing with the great-grandsons of one of the world’s most powerful criminals.

“Dom De Luca is very dangerous to his enemies and rivals. As one last poisonous gift, being Eddie’s heir apparently comes with a mafia membership. According to Mr. De Luca, I'm family.” Roger held up the cards the man had given him. “He has offered to help track down the men Charlie worked for. As a show of good faith, he has given us the first two Cards. In return, he asked me, or us rather, to take the twins.”

Silence.

It was Brendon who finally spoke.

“Wow.” His flat tone didn’t match the word.

“Okay,” Thomas said simply.

“I get wow, but okay?” Roger expected the teen to agree to the man’s request, but the one-word acceptance was a surprise.

“Yep. Okay.” Thomas turned to Brendon and Sandra. “I was rescued by a man people keep calling a mob lawyer. He’s the best man I’ve ever met. Emilio and Elio aren’t criminals. They are sad and scared kids. I can see it in their eyes. It’s the same look I saw this morning on the faces of the boys from Charlie’s farm. Those two boys have no idea what's going to happen to them.

“Emilio said their mom died when they were little, just like mine, and their dad is in prison for killing a bunch of cops. Their great-grandfather might be powerful, but he is older than dirt. They tried to act tough, especially Elio, but they are just as terrified as I was last week.” Roger was once more astounded by how quickly Thomas was able to connect with other traumatized kids.

“Wait, you can tell them apart?” Brendon was smiling at his boyfriend who continued to put others first.

“Not until they talk or move. Elio is stiff and guarded, but Emilio is loose and spontaneous.” Thomas shrugged when he realized the others were staring at him.

Roger looked at the watch he was trying to think of as his and grimaced. He had spent the last several hours making phone calls and shifting the plans he had already made to incorporate Thomas and Brendon’s inspired vision. They still hadn’t decided where the boys would sleep that night, but the next step in the plan was to enlist help now that they knew better what they needed to accomplish.

“Our guests will be here at two, which means we are quickly running out of time to prepare.” The statement shifted the thoughts of Sandra and the teens from the nine-year-old great-grandsons of Dominic De Luca to the nearly spontaneous pitch they planned to make to their new and ever-expanding circle of family and friends.

“Let’s see if we can pull these bleachers out the rest of the way.” Thomas had been introduced to Roger Cicero’s purposeful and theatrical approach to persuasion in courtroom seven; while the upcoming meeting was happening in a gym instead, both Thomas and Roger were approaching their audience much like the attorney would a jury he hoped to sway.

. . .

Although they only lived two hours from downtown Chicago, Billy and Sally Morrison seldom found the need or desire to drive into the city. Billy fingered the visitor badge clipped to the pocket of his plaid, western-cut shirt and glanced nervously first at his wife Sally and then at the retired Army Major who had become a second father.

Special Agent Jim Thompson smiled as he remembered his first, rocky encounter with the man he now thought of as a friend. While his departure with Oliver from the Morrison farm had been rushed, Jim had promised to keep Billy and the Major updated. Both had jumped at the invitation to meet the boys they had helped save.

Following a quiet ding, the elevator door slid smoothly open. Jim stepped out and held the door for his guests. Several federal employees turned to stare at the three people who didn’t belong as they made their way towards Daniel Janick’s office.

“Come in,” Daniel’s voice prompted in response to Jim’s knock.

The agent ushered his guests through the door as Daniel stood to shake their hands.

“I am glad you were all willing to make the drive. Oliver and Jim are headed out soon, but I know the boy will be glad to see you all again. He and his brothers have had a long day, and I am sure they could use a break.” Daniel waved to the chairs he had arranged beside his desk. “Before we go meet the boys, I wanted to say thank you. I’m still waiting for Jim’s official report, but from what he has told me, ten boys are safe today largely because of your actions yesterday, Mr. Morrison.”

Billy looked surprised.

“I’m not sure I did all that much. If anything, I waited far too long to act.” The man allowed the guilt he felt to accent his words.

“That’s bullshit, Mr. Morrison. Apologies ma’am, but it’s true.” Sally smiled as the small man with graying temples set her husband straight. “You didn’t hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way in order to get Oliver White to safety. I’d like to think my influence is at least partially to blame for Special Agent Thompson’s rash and creative problem-solving skills, but it was you that pulled off a daring rescue without endangering the other boys. There’s a medal out there somewhere with your name on it. As soon as I find it, I’ll let you know.”

Tony slapped the younger man on the shoulder, beaming with pride as Billy's bravery was recognized and praised. Jim was smiling as well. He hadn’t thought much of Billy when they first met. His opinion changed when the man walked unarmed into a hostile situation to buy the agent both time and the distraction he needed to pull Oliver into the back of the man’s pickup truck.

“Now, the only reward I have to offer at the moment is the appreciation and respect of the Bureau and a chance to meet the boys you helped rescue.” Daniel paused as he tried to determine how best to prepare them.

“We’ve talked about the boys on the way here,” the retired Army Major said, anticipating the man’s thoughts. “I was with the 6th AD and was a part of the Buchenwald liberation in ’45. I warned Billy and Sally already. We all met Oliver, but I believe that young man is exceptional. We aren’t expecting to meet happy and grateful kids, young man.”

Daniel nodded as he looked with respect at the experienced, capable, and perceptive man.

“Then let’s go say hello to the boys before Oliver and Jim have to leave,” Daniel said as he stood.

. . .

Dom was seated in the back of the large car. His great-grandsons sat beside him trying to pretend they weren’t hurt, confused, and afraid. The ride home had been tense and emotional as he tried to explain to the boys why he wanted them to meet Roger and Thomas Cicero.

It had become Emilio’s job to present the questions both boys wanted to ask. Elio’s role as eldest brother made it difficult for him to say the things that were on their minds.

“Did we do something wrong, Bisnonno?” The boy’s voice shook, breaking the old man’s heart again.

“No boys. Neither of you has done anything wrong.” Dom understood their confusion but wasn’t sure how to explain the difficult choice he had made hoping to provide a brighter future.

“Then why do you want to send us away?” Life had begun to feel more stable over the past several days; the boys had relaxed significantly once they realized their great-grandfather didn’t have the same expectations as their father.

“My beautiful and strong boys,” Dom started. “You know who I am and what I do. You see the men coming and going as well as the frequent calls I must take. I am too old and too embedded in this life to be who you need me to be. I love you both more than I thought possible, and that is why I asked Mr. Cicero to accept you both into his care.”

Elio began to shake, first in anger and then in distress. He had always known what was expected of him, but now he no longer knew where he fit. The brothers had discussed their great-grandfather’s refusal to allow them into the family business. Days ago, knowing they wouldn’t be asked to do the things they had watched their father do had been a disorienting relief. Today, however, the man’s decision felt more like a rejection than an escape.

“I don’t understand why we have to move away.” Again, it was Emilio who spoke their feelings. “We won’t be any trouble. We’ll stay out of the way.”

Dom sighed sadly as he looked at the boy, five minutes younger than his brother but equally brave in his own way. He hoped they would eventually come to see his difficult choice as the benevolent blessing it was meant to be, but it was clear that they both were feeling abandoned yet again.

“What did you think of the older boys?” He knew nothing he could say would ease their pain, so he sought to momentarily distract their sad thoughts.

“They were nice and fun, I guess.” It was clear Elio was struggling with something, and Dom was pretty sure he knew what.

“I liked Tommy and Bren.” Emilio was struggling to, but his sad confusion was with his great-grandfather rather than the older boys he already idolized. “Tommy’s mom died when he was really little, too.”

“You may speak your mind, Elio. I promise I won’t get mad.” Dom waited to see if he was right.

“They’re faggots,” Elio whispered in confusion rather than the hate he had grown up with.

Dominic De Luca sighed. The organization had its own moral code. That fact was confounding to those on the outside, but there were strictly enforced rules about what was allowed and what was not.

Homosexuality was seen as an abomination, an affront to both masculinity and God, although most Capos chose to ignore what their soldiers and peers did in private. There were some, like Dom’s grandson, who would not ignore two men together intimately. Dom was old enough and secure enough to see that Roger Cicero and the gay teenager he had taken in were good men. He didn’t understand their orientation, but he didn’t hold it against them.

“Perhaps it would be better to ask if you felt safe with them or not.” Dom could see the boys thinking about his words. “Are they boys who would help you or hurt you? That is much more important than who they love.”

Like most children, Elio lived in a dualistic world. He had liked the older boys, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to. Dom had given the boy a different measurement that still worked in his black and white way of seeing the world. Tommy and Bren had made Elio and his brother feel very safe.

Elio reached out and touched Emilio’s hand, before wrapping his fingers around his brothers. They hadn’t held hands in years. Not since their father started scolding them for touching in ways he believed inappropriate.

Emilio looked at his brother in surprise before smiling softly. He didn’t share his brother's need to understand everything or to always think about what he was or was not supposed to do.

“I love you both very much,” the man said, smiling at the almost immediate effect his words had on the boys beside him. “I want you both to be safe and happy, and I do not plan to let you go completely. You will be my beautiful ragazzetti gemelli for as long as I live, even if you live in a different home safe from bullets and blood.”

. . .

Oliver’s hand rose as he offered a weak and nervous wave to Jim and the people who had helped free him from the farm. He watched Daniel, whom he had met earlier in the day, unlock the large conference room's door with his access card.

It was emotionally exhausting answering the FBI agents’ questions. They made him look at photographs and describe Willis to a person who had drawn a picture that looked almost exactly like the evil man who had hurt him so often. For hours he had been asked about the farm, the men who ran it, and the boys who were no longer there.

Talking about his lost brothers had been the hardest thing of all. A man told him that police dogs found a bunch of buried bodies. Tears fell again as Oliver thought about the brothers he hadn’t been able to save. Some had been sold away, but Cal and Bobbie had broken the rules. None of the boys who had been on the farm at the time would ever forget what happens to boys who break the rules.

“You okay, bud?” Jim asked.

“They found the place they buried them. There were more than the two I knew.” Sally Morrison started to cry as she pushed Jim out of the way for the second time in two days.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver.” She said through her tears. “You shouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”

The woman had been living with and amongst combat veterans her entire adult life. She cried easily, but Sally had a quiet strength that had supported her husband and many of his brothers through the nightmares of their trauma.

“Hello, Oliver,” Billy forced his own dark emotions back as he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder; Oliver forced himself not to flinch away. “How was the helicopter ride?"

Oliver almost smiled as he remembered the thrill and terror.

“Jim told us about the shootout in the condo,” Tony joked, hoping humor would lighten the mood. “I wish someone would have taken a photo of you holding your gun on the dirtbag. We’re so proud of you, son.”

The older man’s words broke through Oliver's sad emotions as he was reminded of the moment he had saved nine of his brothers. While not proud, he was satisfied. The boy knew he was used up, but many of his brothers had survived the farm.

“Will you introduce us to your brothers, Oliver?” Sandra felt the boy’s body relax as the boy thought about the commitment he had made and kept.

The other boys were as tired as Oliver. As the retired Army Major predicted, they were not nearly as responsive or communicative as the boy they looked up to.

“I’m sorry it was such a long drive for such a short visit,” Jim apologized fifteen minutes later. “Reliving their experience will hopefully help find other kids and the people exploiting them, but it is hard on everyone. I wish we could give them time to recover, but time simply isn’t something we have a lot of.”

“Thanks for letting us come, Jim.” Billy would sleep better having seen that Oliver and the other boys were well protected with his own eyes. “I think I needed to see them safe.”

Jim watched as Sally slipped under her husband’s arm, somehow holding him up through her submissive act. The closeness between them and Sally’s unconditional and understanding support created an unfamiliar ache in the relatively young agent’s soul. These were all good people, and he would miss them.

“Actually, if you don’t need to get back right away, Oliver and I are heading over to a meeting where the lawyer representing all of the boys is going to share his plan for their care.” Jim hoped Roger Cicero wouldn’t mind if he brought a few friends with him.

. . .

“Hello? Anyone home?” An older, more masculine version of Melissa peeked into the gym.

“You must be Melissa’s father. I’m Roger Cicero,” Roger said as he realized they were out of time.

“Peter Motts. Roger Cicero, I presume?” Peter recognized the man he knew to be Melissa’s boss from the news he had seen and read over the years.

“Welcome to Liberty Academy,” Roger said as he held the gymnasium door for the man. “This is Thomas, his boyfriend Brendon, and Brendon’s mother Sandra Mack.”

The man tried to hide his reaction, but everyone saw him flinch. His earlier conversation with his estranged daughter had set the tone for the afternoon. He was determined to be authentic with Melissa’s boss and friends.

“I’m sorry. I was surprised to hear you boys are a couple. I’m not sure how open Melissa has been about our relationship. I have not been an understanding or accepting man or father, but I am trying to change.” Sandra was the first to react to the man’s vulnerability.

“I can relate, Mr. Motts. I have said and done unforgivable things to my son because of my unwillingness to accept that love for him looks different than how I was raised to define it.” Sandra smiled sadly as she looked Brendon in the eyes.

“I love you mom. You know I’ve forgiven you.” The simple but heartfelt hug that followed impacted Peter Motts deeply, giving him hope that one day his eldest daughter might also forgive him.

. . .

Roger and Sandra left Peter Motts in the gym with Thomas and Brendon. They were waiting by the front entrance when Juan’s unmarked squad car pulled into the lot followed by a black SUV. While he had expected to see the young detective, the six people who stepped out of the FBI Suburban were a surprise. Roger waited, holding the door open for the latest wave of friends.

“Roger, you’ve met Qian Chang, I believe. That’s my mother, Rosa Ramos. This is John Renkin who is graciously allowing Micah to stay with my mother in his home. His children, Mary and Joshua are here to help get Micah out of the house.” Roger shook John Renkin’s hand as he let the spring-loaded door close.

After a short conversation, Roger asked Qian to stay while Sandra escorted Juan, John, Rosa and the three children to the gym.

“I’m wondering if I can impose, Agent Chang.” Roger slipped the playing cards he had been given from his jacket pocket. “I would ask Juan, but I’d like for him to stay for the meeting if possible.”

“Please call me Qian.” Roger nodded as he handed the defaced playing cards to the man reverently; The agent’s eyes grew as he realized what he was holding.

“I was hoping you would be willing to deliver these to Daniel. Before you ask, I can’t divulge my source, but I believe they will be providing additional information as it is learned.” Qian nodded, although the rumors he had heard about the man in front of him gave him a guess as to where the information had originated.

“Please let Juan know he is responsible for Micah until I return. I’m looking forward to seeing the boss’ face when I tell him you are still several steps ahead of him.” Roger laughed as he watched Qian move quickly back out into the afternoon sun.

. . .

“John?” Peter Motts asked in surprise as he wiped tears of sorrow from his eyes. “Thomas and Brendon were just telling me about themselves and the boys they hope to help. I certainly didn’t expect to see you and the kids. Is Rebecca here as well?”

“Hello Peter.” John weighed his words. “Rebecca is otherwise engaged this afternoon, and I don’t actually know Thomas and Brendon, although I have heard their names.”

The man’s careful response and guarded expression reminded Peter Motts that Melissa wasn’t the only person he had been unfair and unkind to. John Renkin hadn’t come from money. Despite having done extremely well for himself, Peter had always held that fact against his son-in-law. Status mattered much more before his wife’s death left him alone with a demanding business and an empty house.

“It’s good to see you, son. I’d like to find some time to talk soon, but right now I need a hug from my grandchildren.” John stood, open-mouthed as he watched his often-demeaning father-in-law turn joyfully towards Mary and Joshua.

A thin body passed between the men. Thomas cut in front of Peter, kneeling before the three kids who had just arrived with his arms held out wide.

“Micah, I am so excited you are here!” His words were quiet but intense as he hugged the uncharacteristically responsive boy. “I’m sorry Bren and I haven’t been able to visit, but Juan has told us all about your new friend Mary.

“Hi Mary. I’m Tommy and this is Bren,” he said.

“Micah told me you are really nice and give good hugs.” Thomas gave the girl a hug so she could judge for herself.

“Mary, I want to warn you that there will be a lot of people here soon. If you get scared, just come get me and we’ll find a quiet place to take a break okay.” Thomas winked at the girl before he whispered the same thing quietly into Micah’s ear, causing the boy to nod his head slightly.

“Hi grandpa! Are you here to see the new school too?” It hadn’t taken Peter Motts long to realize the frightened boy was one of the abused kids the teenagers had just been telling him about.

“I’m here to see how I can help,” he said as he hugged both Mary and Joshua. “It’s nice to meet you, Micah. You have some very special friends.”

Unknowingly, the man used the word Micah responded best to. The boy visibly relaxed but didn’t verbally respond to the older man he didn’t yet know.

. . .

Melissa was grateful that the Bureau had not only provided Devon Jones as an escort, but that the man had an SUV at his disposal as well. The nervous woman was in no state to drive, and the five of them fit in the large vehicle much easier than they would have in her small car.

“Relax, Mel. You’re right. It is weird he is being nice after so many years of being a complete assh-ah, I mean jerk. I hope your dad has really come around, but if he hasn’t, you aren’t any worse off than you were before.” Sam turned to look at the boys who were engrossed in their own whispered discussion behind them.

“I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I’d like the boys to have a grandfather.” Melissa kept her voice low as her leg began to bounce, and she bit at her lower lip.

Samantha knew how it felt to be rejected by family. Until Monday afternoon when she watched Thomas, Roger, and Melissa walk away from the courthouse together, Sam had given up on the idea of ever again having a family to call her own.

The time she had spent with Melissa and the twins throughout the week made it impossible not to dream that they might all one day belong to each other. Peter Motts had never been a part of her budding fantasy. Samantha James hoped the man wouldn’t hurt Melissa all over again, and meeting Sandra Mack had showed her change was possible. She had seen firsthand that some parents who reject their kids do later decide to set aside their beliefs in order to restore broken relationships.

Devon tried not to listen in on the conversation behind him. It was his job to protect the twins while impacting their lives as little as possible. Initially, it had been easy to remain professional and detached around the petite, blond, white woman and the young white boys, but the more he got to know them, the more human they became. Fair skin hadn’t made the lives behind him any easier than his had been. He realized that he had it easier in some ways, with parents who loved him and a sexuality that was acceptable to the world around him.

Beyond the initial, curious stares from the boys who had never known a black man personally, Devon felt accepted in Melissa’s home. He saw how close she and the boys were with Qian Chang as well. For Devon, differences in race were something he always had to be aware of, but the color of his skin didn't seem important to Melissa Motts.

He found himself smiling sadly as he thought about the painful ties that bound them together. It had taken a kidnapping and murder, but Devon had no doubt that he would feel a deep, personal connection to the two women and two boys he saw in the rearview mirror for the rest of his life.

He exited Lake Shore Drive onto East 47th Street. Several quick turns later, the man was parking next to several other vehicles in the cracked and pitted lot of an old school.

. . .

“Welcome to Liberty Academy!” Roger smiled as he watched his long-time assistant and her forming family step through the door. “Several people are already in the gym. Straight down the hall and through the double doors on the right. You father is already here, Melissa.”

“Thanks, boss.” Melissa’s nerves were evident; Roger gave her a hug.

“He seems genuinely excited to be here. We had an encouraging conversation when he found out Thomas and Brendon are a couple.” Roger gave her a final squeeze before waving the small group forward.

Feeling slightly more confident, Melissa re-acquired two small hands and focused on her breathing. All too soon, she was stepping into the old gym. Her scanning eyes quickly found her father in a small cluster of adults, all with their backs to the door.

“Dad?” She asked nervously, gasping as the man turned, revealing her niece and nephew standing amongst the adults. “Mary? Joshua?”

“Melissa?” The overwhelmed woman followed the voice to find her brother-in-law as well.

“How?” The one word, expressed as a question, was all that escaped her mouth as Melissa’s mind struggled to make sense of the many emotions suddenly drowning out all other conscious thoughts.

. . .

“Roger Cicero! Who would have thought I’d be willingly and publicly meeting with a mob lawyer in an abandoned building in Kenwood on a Saturday afternoon?” Mike Schultz held out his hand to the man he had only known professionally and by reputation eight days before.

“It seems we will need to add building security to the to do list,” Roger joked as he greeted the Cook County District Attorney and their mutual friend, the Honorable Christopher O’Malley.

“Thanks for calling, Roger. I hope you don’t mind that we invited a few friends after hearing a little about what you had in mind,” the judge said cryptically.

“Don’t worry, we cross referenced the invites with the list of socially elite scum Charles Miller provided.” Roger sent the men on, wondering how many people would find their way onto the old bleachers.

Over the next several minutes, Roger began to consider uninviting the judge and the DA. ADA Radcliffe and Chris’ bailiff Sid arrived next, followed by Juan’s former Police Chief escorting the Commissioner and his wife. They were joined by representatives from almost every arm of local government and several other prominent Chicagoans. Fortunately, Samantha James remained the only journalist in attendance.

. . .

Roger looked at his watch. It was just after two o’clock. It was time, but they were waiting for one more special guest and his plus one. He stepped out into the parking lot in time to see the people he was waiting for pull into the lot, a second car following the official-looking sedan.

After another quick round of introductions, Roger escorted the five new arrivals down the hall and through the double doors. The attorney smiled as he saw the much larger than planned collective of talented and passionate people turn towards him.

“All rise for the Honorable Roger Cicero,” came a loud and playful voice from somewhere in the crowd.

“Thank you, Sid, but I don’t think your current boss wants to give you up.” Roger joked as he waved everyone towards the bleachers.

“Damn right. I’ll support whatever it is you have in mind, Roger, but you can’t have my bailiff.” Chris O’Malley planned to enjoy his role as a spectator and heckler in the day’s proceedings.

Thomas approached and claimed their last VIP and the boy's entourage, steering them towards the front row where Brendon waited with Micah who Roger saw was visibly overwhelmed.

. . .

“If you haven’t heard me say it yet, welcome to the future home of Liberty Academy. I had planned to keep things informal before my team and I lost control of the invite list. Thank you each for making the time to be here, and thank you as well to those who brought friends. My name is Roger Cicero. I am an attorney, but I hope you won’t hold that against me.” Roger paused to allow the snickers and catcalls to fade.

“I want to tell you all a little about myself, or my past rather. I have never been open about my personal life, but I hope that in sharing you will better understand what we are trying to do and why. You will also hear from the young man who insisted we begin our efforts in this old, used up building.” Roger saw the words register in the eyes of the boy sitting between Thomas and a woman the attorney had only just met.

Roger didn’t go into details, or talk much about the mob, but he described being a frightened and bruised teenager who ran away after his father beat him up. He shared the relief he felt when Edward Vitale pulled him from the rioting crowds in Greenwich Village almost twenty-three years earlier. He also told those in attendance how his relief quickly turned to horror as the man broke Roger’s will along with his body.

“I’ve lived a secret life, held as an emotional prisoner by a man who did much worse to other boys who were less fortunate than me.” Many on the bleachers found themselves trying to understand how Roger could consider himself fortunate after surviving the things he had quickly and calmly described. “Recently, I met young man who needed my help. In return, he has helped me find some amount of freedom from the past I just shared.

“His story isn’t mine to tell, so I invite him to come up and share what is on his heart and mind. Thomas?” Both Thomas and Brendon stood, holding hands as they approached Roger, who stepped aside after a quick round of hugs.

“Hi.” Thomas said with a grin. “This is my boyfriend, Brendon.”

The people who knew the teens smiled. There were some in the crowd who were shocked by the plain declaration, but only a few that found the teenagers’ relationship disturbing.

“We won’t be too offended if you want to leave. Just, please don’t try to kill us like my dad did last February.” Thomas looked out into the crowd as Brendon picked up the narrative.

“Or beat us up, like my father did to me last weekend.” Brendon let his words reverberate, erasing any thoughts, good or bad, about the boys’ sexual orientation. “Like Roger, we consider ourselves fortunate.”

Even Roger was surprised by the boy’s presentation. He knew the teens had discussed what Thomas should say, but it was clear they had put a lot of care into the words they decided to share together.

John Renkin looked to where his children sat with his sister-in-law and the twins she was caring for. He didn’t know if the kids should be hearing the things being said, but then his eyes fell on Micah. Suddenly, he realized why Roger and the teens considered themselves fortunate. Mary spent her days with a boy who had been through much worse.

“The monster in Roger’s life was named Eddie. My monster is my former uncle Charlie Miller. I say former, because I am a Cicero now rather than a Miller, thanks to Roger and Judge O’Malley.” Thomas paused wisely.

“Happy to help, Mr. Cicero!” The large redheaded Irishman didn’t disappoint.

“As Roger said about his abuser, the things Charlie did to me are nothing when compared to what he did to a whole bunch of other boys.” Thomas grew too emotional to continue as he looked at the four boys whose lives had been ruined by his uncle and organization the man worked for.

“Also like Roger, we too recently met several young men who needed our help. Thomas has found a father in Roger, but he has also found over a dozen brothers bound to him through their shared trauma.” Brendon looked lovingly at his selfless boyfriend after delivering an adapted version of what was meant to be Thomas’ line.

“This building in used. Some might even say used up.” Thomas looked into Oliver’s focused eyes and spoke directly to the boy who had become a brother. “It has been abused, beat up, emptied, neglected, and abandoned, but it is NOT used up. You might look at this place and think starting over makes more sense, but I look at this place and see a past that has proven its worth and strength.

“Roger said something to me recently when I felt used up and worthless. He said nothing can change the fact that my dad tried to kill me because I was in love with my best friend or that my uncle was a monster. He said my difficult life is what made me who I am. He said I am special, partly because of my past.” Thomas nodded ever so slightly at Oliver who was soaking in his words.

“Wow. Roger told Thomas he could talk for few minutes. I bet he won’t do that again.” The crowd laughed as many wiped away tears. “So yeah, I was ready to tear this place down, but Thomas got all doe-eyed and declared this was the perfect place to help his brothers rebuild their lives. That’s why we’re here, and we hope that’s why you’re here too.”

Thomas and Brendon clasped hands again and returned to their seats as several people clapped and a few others cried.

“Damn, Roger. Just tell me who to write the check out to already.” Chris O’Malley wiped his cheeks as he tried to get ahold of his spiraling emotions; Thomas had a unique and uncanny ability to make the large man cry.

“Who invited the obnoxious judge?” Roger asked as he took the floor once more. “Okay, Chris, here it is.”

The attorney spent several minutes explaining the non-profit organization he intended to create when the state offices opened the following week. The foundation would support abused or traumatized boys who needed a safe and supportive place to heal, live, and grow. The attorney disclosed that the school building and several other buildings close by, as well as a significant cash endowment, had already been pledged in support of the cause.

Several knew, and the others guessed that Roger was the source of the new foundation’s immediate wealth.

Sam sat in the corner, inconspicuously taking notes. Daniel Janick had made it clear he didn’t want anything published that would expose the ongoing investigation to the ring they were hunting. She was happy to protect the boys with her silence for as long as necessary, but someday she would be allowed to tell this story.

“Are you considering further donations, board members, and volunteers?” Melissa asked the question, already knowing the answer.

“We are, and I will be around all afternoon for those who wish to get involved in some way. While money is always helpful, Thomas and Brendon’s dream is to create the best home and school possible, right here on this little block in Kenwood. As you can see, this place needs a lot of love and nurturing just like the boys who will eventually walk these halls.” Roger’s attention was drawn to the open doors when a middle-aged man in fatigues walked into the gym.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m looking for First Sergeant Ramos,” the man called out; Juan was already moving towards the door.

Realizing he was in danger of losing his audience, Roger set aside his curiosity and turned back towards the bleachers.

“We are anxious to get started, but the priority need is actually somewhere nearby for ten boys and as many adults to stay starting tonight. We will figure out how make this place livable before beginning renovation of least one neighboring building, converting the currently occupied apartments into dorms for students and condos for staff and affected families.” Roger was now to the part of plan that had yet to be charted.

“What would it take to make this place livable by this evening?” Juan asked from the door.

“Beds for one,” Thomas answered.

“We’ve got that covered. What else?” Juan’s grin and the Marine standing beside him told Roger he had called in some of his own reinforcements.

“Maybe Thomas and Brendon can give anyone interested a tour and you can see for yourself. I’ll stay here and mingle with anyone wanting to talk.” Thomas and Brendon nodded as they practically dragged Oliver towards the door.

. . .

Daniel stared at the cards Qian had placed on his desk. Names, addresses, aliases, and known rackets for the Two and Jack of Spades.

“Roger’s job is figuring out how to take care of and protect the boys,” Daniel joked. “Why is he doing our job instead?”

“He’s doing his job too, don’t worry.” Qian was glad to see his boss smiling.

“Has he figured out where the boys are going to sleep tonight? The slumber party was fine last night, but it would be difficult to explain to DCFS if they found out we were housing ten boys in a two-bedroom condo, even if it is huge.” Daniel considered dusting the cards for prints in hopes of learning exactly who was feeding Roger information faster than the FBI could discover it.

“I’m not sure. I skipped the meeting he was having to get those cards to you.” A knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

“Come in,” Daniel said.

Robert Fenton poked his head in.

“I don’t suppose Jim is back with Oliver yet?” he asked.

“No, they just left forty-five minutes ago. Why?” The psychologist sighed as he looked at the two men sitting on either side of the desk.

“The White family is in the lobby.” The man had been expecting and dreading this moment. “Not only do I have to figure out if they are ready to see their son without damaging him or themselves, but I also have to explain that he’s not available right now.”

Daniel smiled.

“I believe in you, Doc. Take Agent Chang with you. I’ve had enough of his teasing.” Even though he was excited to be closing a missing persons case and reuniting a family, Daniel was as nervous as the doctor; Oliver’s future would be greatly impacted by the first few moments with his parents and younger brother.

“Actually, that is a good idea. Qian, your perspective would be extremely valuable if you’d be willing to share it.” Qian was no longer smiling as he realized Dr. Fenton was referring to his perspective as a victim and survivor rather than a Federal Agent.

“Is that furlough still on the table, boss?” Qian asked, only half joking as he stood.