The Alchemist's Son - Chapter 2 - Declan (Patreon)

The winning poll results were: Insta-lust, he does try to escape, dominant alpha, D/s BUT Daddy kink was only 8 votes shy of the winner so we'll just see how these two play out. 

Chapter 2

Declan

Declan left the bathroom, then the room, heading two doors down to the suite where the rest of the crew was congregating. He looked to Coven and Olivander. “Stand outside my door. Make sure he stays put.”

They both grimaced, but Coven gave a curt nod, then they left the room, leaving Declan alone with Rune and Salem. Rune lounged on the couch, her heavy leather boots kicked up on the arm as she chomped her gum obnoxiously, giving Declan a judgmental look from behind heavy black liner.

Salem sat at the table carving the skin from an apple with an irritating deliberateness that told Declan he was waiting for him to ask him what was wrong so he could say his peace. He wouldn’t give him the fucking satisfaction. He was too busy trying to figure out how he’d lost control of the situation in the other room so quickly.

The plan had been simple. Kidnap the boy, sit on him, wait for Able to rescue him, and then trace him back to his fucking hideout. In retrospect, it was a dumb fucking plan. But he’d been half drunk and furious. That didn’t excuse his poor decision making skills. He was in charge now. Whether he liked it or not.

Able had been right about one thing—Declan was too impulsive when it came to getting what he wanted. He didn’t think things through, just rushed headfirst into danger. Luckily, for Ezra. If they’d waited to take out his kidnappers back when he was ten, he’d have been dead. They’d been seconds away from doing God knows what to the boy when Declan had found him.

He shook the thought away, realizing Rune and Salem still watched him.

“What? What’s your fucking problem?” Declan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Salem flicked deep brown eyes upwards, catching Declan’s gaze. “What’s the plan here? Seriously? Did you really think the kid was going to know where his pops was? He could give two shits about the kid. About any of us, clearly. Now, he’s here and he knows we’re the ones who took him. So, what are we gonna do?”

“Jace is right.”

“Salem,” Declan snapped.

“Why? Why do we have to go by these ridiculous code names here in our own secret lair?” she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “He’s not coming back, Decl—Phoenix. He took all our money and he fucking cut and ran. Now, you’ve got his brat holed up in your bathroom. For what? What are we fucking doing here, man?”

Declan’s temper flared, but he tamped it down. He didn’t know where to go from there. He still wasn’t completely certain the plan had failed. Able was a first class prick, but he’d always come back for his son. Always. It was the least the bastard could do given the trauma he’d caused him.

“He’ll come for him. He will. If we have to, we’ll start leaving souvenirs for the news to find. If we start leaving pieces of his kid all over the city, he’ll come.”

No, not a kid. Ezra definitely wasn’t a kid anymore. He was an adult. A fully grown adult who looked up at Declan with those huge green eyes in a way that was most definitely not part of the fucking plan. He hadn’t anticipated that. The last time he’d seen the kid was for a few brief moments when he’d watched Able sweep him from the room before Declan put bullets in the heads of the two men who’d been stupid enough to try to use Ezra as leverage.

Before that, it had been a while. He’d been barely out of high school, an age not even remotely on Declan’s radar. He didn’t play his very adult games with children. But fuck, if he didn’t want to play those games with the now very adult Ezra.

“Yeah?” Rune asked. “You’re gonna walk in there and start hacking off pieces of the kid you’ve been rescuing since he was barely old enough to tie his shoes? Who are you fucking kidding, dude? That’s not who you are. That’s who he was. Besides, you think he’ll still want his son when he’s no longer in pristine condition? That narcissistic bastard doesn’t like broken toys unless he can exploit them.”

She was right. She was usually right. It was fucking annoying. He dropped down into the chair, scrubbing a hand over the scruff on his chin. “Fuck. There has to be a way to find this fucker. I might not be able to chop his kid into pieces, but I’ll skin Caulfield alive before I let him just fuck us over like this.”

There was a loud boom, like someone had thrown something heavy against the wall, then muffled shouts and banging. Rune and Salem looked at him. “Should we go?”

Declan sighed, sagging back in the chair, then shook his head, waiting for the inevitable. Five minutes later, Coven and Olivander burst through the door, dragging Ezra behind them, his hands tied in front of him with an electrical cord.

Coven had what looked like tiny gashes across his rapidly swelling nose and Olivander had the start of a bruise around his neck. They both looked like cats who’d fallen in a bathtub, both sheepish and pissed off. Part of Declan wanted to laugh at the image they made. Coven and Olivander had both done multiple stints in prison with some of the most dangerous men in the world.

Ezra didn’t have a scratch on him that he hadn’t had when Declan left.

“What happened to you two?” Declan asked, leveling a glare at all three of them.

“The kid tried to bite my fucking nose off,” Coven shrieked, furious.

“An improvement if you ask me,” Ezra said, voice droll.

“He tried to fucking strangle me with that goddamn chain you used to lock him up.”

Declan’s gaze flicked to Ezra, who grinned, teeth bloody. “In my defense, they made it really fucking easy. Dimples here has the reflexes of a chloroformed sloth,” he said, poking a finger at Olivander. “And Unibrow needs to watch his six better.”

Coven looked like he was about to smash Ezra’s pretty face into the wall, but Olivander’s expression grew sullen, his tone sulky as he said, “Yo, he’s fucking mean, bro. Find someone else to babysit,” shoving Ezra into the room before turning on his heel and stomping off.

“Everybody, out!” Declan shouted, then pointed to Ezra. “Except you.”

Ezra batted his lashes at him, tongue darting out to lick the blood from his lips like a fucking psychopath. Declan huffed a breath out through his nose, advancing on Ezra the moment they were alone. He slapped his face hard enough to rocket his head back, then slammed him up against the wall, watching his pupils dilate as he did so.

Christ. He was giving him exactly what he wanted. It didn’t stop him from wrapping a hand around his throat, squeezing just enough to get his attention. “Are we going to have a problem? Because I can toss you right back down in the boiler room. Is that what you fucking want?” The barest hint of panic seemed to cross Ezra’s face but then disappeared.

“If you do, you better find something better to tie me up with than those weak ass sex toy ones you used a few minutes ago.”

Declan snorted. “What were you hoping to accomplish with this little stunt? I own this whole fucking building. There’s nowhere for you to go. You’re here until I let you go.”

Ezra arched one perfect brow. “Are you sure about that? Did you really think two tiny locks would keep me where you want me? You’ll have to work a bit harder than that. I am my father’s son.”

The kid was a goddamn lock picker? Jesus. Of course, he was. “Luckily, I have plenty of other things to restrain you.”

“Do tell,” Ezra said, his face turning pink from the pressure Declan was still applying.

He stopped squeezing but kept his hand there, letting the warmth of Ezra’s skin bleed into his, fighting the intrusive urge to smash their mouths together. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“You wouldn’t?” Ezra countered, his gaze locked onto Declan’s lips.

Declan gave a low rumble of irritation. “This isn’t fucking foreplay, kid.”

Ezra pressed harder against the hand around his neck until their lips were far too close for Declan’s liking. “Anything’s foreplay if you’re brave enough. Are you brave enough, Declan?”

Declan tried to ignore the way his cock hardened behind his zipper. “Christ. You’re as crazy as your goddamn father.”

Ezra shivered like Declan had caressed him, his voice softening in a way that sent another shock of awareness straight to his dick. “Don’t look so scandalized, D. A boy can only be abducted and tied up so many times before it becomes a kink.” He gave him his best puppy dog eyes, pooching his lip into an exaggerated pout. “It’s not my fault,” he simpered. “I’m damaged.”

Declan swallowed audibly. What would Ezra look like on his knees, those wide innocent eyes gazing up at him, lips parted, tongue out, waiting for Declan’s cock?

Declan scoffed, irritated with himself. “Yeah, you fucking are.”

He grabbed Ezra’s upper arm, yanking open the door and dragging him back down the hallway to his room. The others weren’t lingering nearby so they must have gone downstairs or to their own rooms. Honestly, Declan didn’t give a fuck. He was too fucking pissed. And horny. But mostly fucking pissed.

He pushed Ezra into his room, once more pulling his knife free, cutting through the electrical cord before shoving the boy back onto his bed. If he was expecting Ezra to panic, he was wrong. The look of lust on his face was almost enough to stop Declan in his tracks.

Did he think Declan had brought him in there to fuck him? One look at the boy told him he could if he wanted to. Yeah, Ezra would let him. He was doing everything but rubbing up against him like a fucking cat. Ezra was making no secret of all the things he’d let Declan do to him. He’d beg for it if Declan wanted him to.

And oh, how he wanted to. He more than wanted to. He was two seconds away from whipping his shirt over his head, crawling on top of Ezra and giving him exactly what he was asking for. Christ. This was a disaster.

He snapped back to reality, opening the closet and reaching into the duffle bag on the floor, tugging the rough but unyielding rope from inside before hopping onto the bed, straddling Ezra’s chest. “Hands on the headboard,” he snapped.

Ezra’s lips parted, his breath escaping in a huff, his arms raising without hesitation. He crossed them at the wrist, docile as a baby fucking deer, gazing up at Declan expectantly as he waited for him to tie him up.

Declan used an exaggerated knot system to secure him to the headboard. The kid might be good with locks, but he wouldn’t get out of these ropes unless he was actually fucking Houdini.

He sat there for a minute, staring down at the boy, fingers itching to trace the lines of his face, slant their mouths together, fuck his tongue into his mouth…but he didn’t do any of those things.

Still, at Ezra’s look of disappointment, Declan couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and pressing his lips against his ear. “Good boy.”

Ezra whimpered, canting his hips like he could entice Declan to move lower, to touch him, to give him what he wanted.

This situation was way out of hand. He hopped off the bed then fell into the chair in the corner of the room.

Ezra glowered at him. “Coward.”

Declan snorted, pretending he had no idea what he meant. “You and I, we gotta come to some kind of understanding or you better get used to rope burn.” A slow smile spread across Ezra’s face, but Declan refused to give him the satisfaction. “I’m serious. Do you want to be tied up until your father comes to get you?”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Do you really want me to answer that?” he countered. When Declan remained silent, Ezra sighed, “Do you truly think he’s coming for me? Or are you just looking for an excuse to keep me here…with you?” he asked.

That was a great fucking question. One he would have been able to answer without hesitation hours ago, but now was something he was unwilling to examine too closely. This was already messy enough. The team thought he was a fuck-up and he was really starting to feel like one. Less than a day with Ezra and he already had him questioning everything.

“Why would I do that?” Declan asked. “I don’t even know you.”

The pain that bled into Ezra’s expression made Declan’s stomach churn, but then it was gone, his mouth forming into a hard line, like someone had slammed a window closed over his emotions. “Right. Sure. I guess we’ll just wait until my dad comes. I’m guessing it will be sometime between now and Hell freezing over. You should probably get used to looking at my pretty face.”

Declan knew he was right. Able wasn’t coming for him. He wasn’t coming back for any of them. But trying to track Able was like trying to chase a ghost. If he didn’t want to be found, they wouldn’t find him. That was what made him so fucking good at what he did.

“I don’t know what else to do,” Declan heard himself admit.

Ezra gave a delicate sniff. “You could just ask for my help.”

Declan frowned, sitting up straight to level a look at him. “You said you don’t know where he is.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t find him. I’ve been tracking down my dad off and on for years.”

Was that true? Declan couldn’t ever remember a time when Ezra had contacted Able, but that was a part of his life he’d kept completely separate. Declan had never truly understood the relationship between Able and Ezra’s mother. They weren’t together, but he was overly protective of the woman, paid for her, paid for Ezra, spoke of her fondly, sent her presents on her birthday. Something he’d never done for Ezra. But in all those years, Declan never remembered either Ezra or Nessa reaching out to him.

“How?” he finally asked.

Ezra shrugged. “His digital footprint.”

“His what?”

Once more, Ezra gave him another eye roll. “His bank accounts, his aliases, his properties. I track them. Well, the ones I manage to find anyway.”

“Bank accounts? Your father keeps his money in offshore accounts and cryptocurrency.”

“My father keeps Able Caulfield’s money in offshore accounts and cryptocurrency. You know how hard it is to pay for gas with Bitcoin? To get through TWA when you’re one of America’s Most Wanted?”

Declan frowned. “Your father is an expert at disguises. He has numerous passports, fake IDs.”

Ezra gave him a look like he’d been hit in the head with the point and had still missed it. “Yeah, exactly. Stop trying to look for Able Caulfield and start trying to look for his aliases. They aren’t easy to come by. Creating fake personalities and documentation takes time and effort. I’m not saying he couldn’t have created a whole new life in Bosnia or the Maldives, but there’s a really good chance he’s using one of the aliases he’s already vetted.”

“He was always really private about those names,” Declan admitted.

“Not with my mother.”

“Your mother knew his aliases?”

Ezra sighed. “Some of them. He couldn’t very well pay her child support under his real name. He had a soft spot for my mom. He let things slip. When he did, she wrote them down. When she was dying, I found them and started doing some research of my own.”

Declan’s brows shot up. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m making it all up in the hope that you’ll slap me across the face again,” Ezra shot back.

Declan snorted out a laugh. “You really want to be roughed up again, don’t you?”

Ezra’s cheeks turned pink. “Maybe. But that’s neither here nor there. Do you want to find my dad, or would you rather keep me tied to your bed for another few weeks?” He gave Declan a thorough once-over, his voice going all soft and breathy. “Be honest.”

Honest was the last thing Declan planned to be with Ezra. Not when he looked so fucking irresistible. What did it say about him that a tied-up boy with a head wound and flesh in his teeth was the most tempting thing he’d seen in a while? Shit.

Part of him thought the best thing he could do was cut bait and run, putting as much distance between Ezra and himself as possible for sanity’s sake. It was the right thing to do. Ezra wasn’t a kid anymore, but he had a life. He had college and friends and money. He had normalcy. Something Declan had never been offered.

But that was the thing. Declan didn’t do the right thing. Ever. That wasn’t who he was. It had never been who he was. His mother had called him trash since before he could write his own name. He’d learned to get away with stealing before first grade and was teaching others by the time he’d reached middle school.

Declan wasn’t a good guy. He’d never been a good guy. So, if Ezra wanted to help him take down his father, he’d fucking let him. If he wanted to betray the man who’d created him, that was their business. Declan raked his gaze over Ezra with his bloody lips and obvious hard-on. And if Ezra wanted to play whore for him while he did it…Declan would let him do that, too.

But not right now. He jumped to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

“What?” Ezra asked, startled. “Where are you going?”

Declan smirked. “To consider your request.”

He flipped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness.

“Don’t!” Ezra cried, his voice raw with panic.

Declan hit the switch once again, the sallow yellow light flaring to life. Ezra’s chest was heaving, his face etched with fear.

At Declan’s questioning look, Ezra’s gaze skated away. “I don’t like the dark.”

“You had a bag over your head for hours,” Declan reminded him gently.

“Yeah, but I could see the purple lights of the sign through the bag,” he said, shaken. “Just…just leave it on.” His gaze dragged back to Declan. “Please.”

The dread on his face made Declan’s heart twist. “Yeah. I’ll leave it on. Okay? But no escape attempts. I’ll be back.”

Ezra gave a stilted nod, then turned his head away to stare at the wall, his once teasing expression now desolate.

Shit. Declan left the room before he could give into the urge to do whatever it took to wipe that look off his face.

What the fuck had he gotten himself into?