The Alchemist's Son - Ch. 10 - Declan (Patreon)

Chapter 10

Declan

Randall Miles looked back and forth between Ezra and Declan like he’d been asked to perform a complex math equation without pen and paper, a sort of befuddled look that was appropriate on a man like him. Despite what movies would have people believe, the world’s foremost expert on safecracking didn’t look like someone out of The Italian Job. No, Randall Miles looked like the guy who would fail you on your driving test for not knowing how to parallel park.

He was…rumpled.

It was the only word that came to mind. Not just his khakis and button-down that looked like he’d scraped them off the floor before throwing them on, but his general appearance. He had round glasses that sat slightly askew, like one of his ears was higher than the other, and just enough facial hair to prove he was someone who shouldn’t try to grow facial hair.

None of that took away from his genius. Miles was a legend, and the way Ezra beamed at the man would make you think he was Batman. Declan fought not to snicker at the thought of Miles in a Batman costume. Not all heroes wore capes. Some wore cardigans and smelled like Doritos, Yerba, and flop sweat.

Declan might have been jealous of Ezra’s obvious worship if not for the way he was inching closer to Declan in a way he thought was inconspicuous but very much wasn’t. He didn’t mind. He’d told Ezra their relationship ended on the other side of their bedroom door, but he was failing miserably at that, too.

It was obvious to the others that there was something going on between them. How they construed that was their problem. It was hard not to touch Ezra casually. His hands just gravitated towards him without thought.

How could they not? He was so pretty, and he stared at Declan so intently, like he was thinking dirty thoughts about him right there in a room full of people. Which led to Declan doing the same. Even now, Ezra was distracting in the best possible way.

Declan sighed, looking around the somewhat seedy space Miles called a workshop. It was part locksmith company, part security system sales floor, but the part that interested Declan was in the back. That was where they would put Ezra’s bragging to the test.

Miles fixed his glasses only to have them slump back into the same place. “Why are you here?” He looked past Ezra and Declan to the others. “All of you?”

Declan looked back at his rag-tag crew and realized he had no room to talk about Miles’ style. Rune looked like she was auditioning for the role of Wednesday Addams, Olivander still had bite marks on his nose, Salem was once again shirtless, and Coven looked like he’d gotten dressed in the dark. He shook his head.

Declan cleared his throat. “Ezra here told us about his…special talent.”

Olivander snorted, earning a glare from Declan.

“Special talent?” Miles said, frowning.

Miles was so smart that, sometimes, he was dumb.

“Safecracking?” Declan reminded him. “We’re here to put him to the test. Seeing as how you’re his mentor, I figured you’d be fine with us borrowing your back room?”

Miles blinked at him as if churning this information over in his head, then turned to Ezra, confused. “I thought you’d been kidnapped.”

Declan had wondered if Miles knew about that. It was a huge risk bringing Ezra out of the safe house, but it was worth it. Miles wouldn’t turn them in. Worst case scenario, he’d tell Abel, and if Miles knew where Abel was, that could only help them.

“I was.” Ezra side-eyed Declan with a smirk. “By Declan.” At Miles’ startled expression, Ezra hurried to add, “It’s a long, complicated story.”

“A love story…” Rune crooned to Salem.

“Fuck off,” Declan muttered without looking back.

Once more, Miles stared at them, then leaned into Ezra’s space, his stage whisper slightly conspiratorial. “Is this some kind of subtle cry for help because I’m not very good with context clues. Do I need to call 911?”

Ezra turned and studied Declan like he was contemplating his answer. He loved pushing Declan’s buttons. He’d say the little shit was going to pay for it later, but Ezra loved his punishments. Too much. It led Declan to research some more creative options.

Finally, Ezra shook his head. “No. It’s fine. Really. We’ve…worked it out.”

Rune snorted. “I’ll say,” she muttered under her breath.

Declan turned, giving her a stern look. “Do you have something you’d like to share with the whole class?”

She grinned, batting false lashes at him. “Do you want me to share my thoughts with the…whole class? Because I can.”

Declan huffed out a breath through his nose. When had he lost control of the situation? Had he ever had it? Abel had always been able to control them with a look, a glance, but somehow Declan, who considered himself a fairly terrifying person, didn’t frighten them at all. He didn’t have time for the existential crisis threatening.

“How’d you know he’d been kidnapped?” Olivander asked, floating closer, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans.

“Abel called me,” Miles said, circling back behind the counter to grab something out of sight.

For a split second, Declan worried it would be a weapon of some kind, like this had all been some kind of set-up. But it was simply a Star Wars water bottle. The man slurped loudly, frowning when he realized they were all gaping at him. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Abel called you?” Declan asked at the same time Ezra said, “My dad called you?”

Miles frowned. “Yeah. What’s the big deal? Why are you guys all acting so weird? Where is your dad anyway? I haven’t seen him in months, and wherever he is, the rest of you usually follow. Well, not you, obviously,” he concluded, pointing at Ezra.

Declan couldn’t ignore the way Ezra flinched at the reminder that his dad didn’t ever make an effort to see him.

“What did he say?” Declan asked, ignoring Miles’ inquiry.

“He wanted to know if I had heard from Ezra. If he was still ‘training’ with me,” Miles air-quoted.

“How did my dad know I was training with you?” Ezra asked.

Once more, Miles frowned. “Was it a secret? Maybe Nessa told him before she passed. He didn’t hear it from me.”

Declan frowned. That was suspicious. This whole thing felt wrong, off somehow. Could they really trust Miles? Maybe Declan was just spooking himself now. “What exactly did Abel say?”

“That he was worried. That he’d heard a rumor someone had kidnapped Ezra and he was concerned.”

Ezra’s startled gaze darted to Declan. He pulled him in front of him and wrapped his arms around him from behind. The gesture went unnoticed by no one. Declan didn’t give a shit. Let them stare. The last thing he needed was for Ezra to spiral, thinking he was being disloyal to a man who’d never given a shit about him.

“Concerned?” Ezra asked, his voice just hopeful enough to make Declan’s insides twist.

Miles nodded. “Yeah. He seemed pretty sure that whoever took you was using you to get to him.”

Ezra’s face fell at his words, devastated yet again. “Yeah, that tracks.”

What the hell was Ezra going to do when they finally came face to face with Abel and Declan put a bullet in the man’s head? Would that be the end of them? He couldn’t let the man live or they’d spend their whole lives looking over their shoulder, waiting for Abel to strike again.

“What else did he say?” Salem asked.

“Not much. He just wanted to know if I’d heard from Ezra and if I knew if the cops have any leads.”

“He didn’t know who had me?” Ezra said, seemingly snuggling closer to Declan without thought.

Miles studied the two. “He had his suspicions. Which I guess were correct.”

“Are we doing this or what?” Coven grumbled, earning a smack from his brother. He gave Salem a hurt look, rubbing his head where his brother had hit him. “What? I’m hungry and this is taking too long. I want to see him crack open some safes and then I want to get breakfast.”

“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon,” Salem reminded him.

“We’re in Vegas. I can get breakfast anywhere. I wanna go to Vickie’s.”

Declan rolled his eyes. But Coven was right—not about breakfast but about wasting time. The longer they stood there talking about Abel, the more likely it was that Ezra would start having regrets and doubting where his loyalties should lie. And selfish or not, Declan refused to share Ezra with Abel. He hadn’t earned that consideration.

They went to the back where there were several safes lined up in a row. Miles went through and reset the locks just so the others knew Ezra hadn’t somehow simply memorized the combinations after all this time.

As soon as he was finished, Ezra grabbed a stethoscope from Miles and sat with his legs criss-crossed before the first safe. He placed the ear pieces in his ears, then pressed the listening device to the door and closed his eyes.

They kept their distance. People outside of the industry didn’t realize how truly difficult safecracking was. In its purest form, lock manipulation required three things: determining the contact points on the lock, parking the wheels, and mentally graphing the results. It was more than just listening for some clicks.

Safecracking took years to master for most, but there were some—a handful, maybe—who were naturals. People who could not only hear the tumblers click but could feel the microscopic changes with their fingers. Abel was a natural.

The door of the safe before Ezra popped open. Ezra threw a smug look over his shoulder, then wiggled his butt to the next safe to do it all over again. It seemed Ezra was a natural, too.

As they watched, Ezra moved down the line. Some safes took longer than others, but, eventually, they all gave up their secrets to him. Each time they did, he shot another triumphant look at Declan, beaming at him like he was proving something.

But he wasn’t. Declan hadn’t doubted Ezra’s skills. Not really. He’d had no reason to lie to him. But he’d seemed so determined to show he could earn his keep. And maybe to show off a little. Declan would never say it to Ezra, but he seemed to share his father’s ego, just a bit. He wanted the applause. The rewards.

Declan would be happy to reward him anytime he liked, but after they pulled off a job. An easy job. Just to start.

###

“This is our big heist?” Ezra said, tone pouty.

Olivander chuckled. “Now, now. It’s not the size that matters. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

Declan checked his watch. Three in the morning. They didn’t have time for Ezra to start bratting now. They stood in the back of a strip mall in bum fuck nowhere just outside of Vegas, dressed in all black, balaclavas in place. The scent of diesel and rotting Chinese food from the nearby dumpsters were making him nauseated, and the strobing effect of the only working street light overhead was giving him a headache.

Declan didn’t know what Ezra had expected for his first job, but it was clearly not Mike’s Check Cashing Emporium. In any other matter, Declan would have babied him, but this shit couldn’t happen on jobs. Not when jail was always a real possibility.

Declan locked an arm around Ezra’s neck and pulled him in until their foreheads touched. “Don’t worry about the where,” Declan said. “That’s my job. Your job is to crack the safe and get me what’s inside. That’s it.”

“But it’s… How much money could even be in there?” he whined.

“You’d be surprised,” Declan said, earning an even poutier expression.

Declan refused to explain himself in front of the crew. Mike’s might look like a regular check cashing place, but it wasn’t. It was a front for a gang who used it to launder their drug money. There was a fuckton of clean cash sitting in that safe, just waiting for Ezra to do his thing.

“Just do what you’re told, kid,” Declan said, smashing their mouths together for a brief kiss.

Ezra’s lips parted and his eyes went hazy. “Yes, Da—”

Declan cut him off with another kiss before he accidentally said something the crew would never let either of them live down. “Good boy,” he whispered, so only Ezra could hear him.

That seemingly nullified whatever conflicting emotions Ezra had about Mike’s. He nodded towards the back door and the others moved into action. After years of pulling jobs together, he didn’t need to tell the others what to do. Rune busted the door lock with a crowbar. Salem immediately began disabling the security system. Olivander and Coven took up watch in the front while Rune monitored the back door.

“This place reeks of weed,” Ezra muttered, wrinkling his nose.

He was right, but Declan said nothing, opening a door to the right that turned out to be the booth where the employees dealt with customers. He quickly closed it, nodding to the only other door.

Ezra pushed it open, giving a triumphant cry when he saw the office with the safe embedded into the wall behind the desk. He hurried towards it, pulling his stethoscope from his backpack and settling in.

“Time?” Declan called.

“Three minutes,” Rune answered.

It was unlikely they would be interrupted now that Salem disabled the alarm, but that didn’t mean they could afford to languish there for any real amount of time. He also wanted Ezra to feel the pressure. He needed to be able to do this with chaos erupting around him. He needed to understand there was always a sense of urgency.

Ezra didn’t look stressed. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, long fingers deftly turning the knob one microscopic movement at a time. Declan knew that face. It was the same blissed out expression Ezra wore when he slipped into sub space. When the pain turned to anesthetic, when the endorphins made him high…

Declan adjusted himself as discreetly as possible but he was rock hard behind his zipper just watching Ezra. The way his tongue darted out to lick over his lower lip, the way he tilted his head, the way his lashes fluttered when he got a number down and scribbled it in dry marker on the safe face.

There was nothing about the process that should have been sexual but Declan had never been so turned on in his life. “T-Time?” he asked, faltering.

“Six minutes and twenty-eight seconds, twenty-nine…thirty…” Rune called from the doorway.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go.”

Ezra ignored him. Or maybe he was too far gone to hear him. Either way, he stayed on task, manipulating the dial this way and that until he finally gave a little shout, jotting down the last number before standing back and resetting the lock.

They all floated closer to see Ezra turning the four digit combo with confidence, hopping on the balls of his feet when it clicked. He threw the door open for all to see. The small safe was stacked to the brim with wads of money as well as various bags of pills.

“Leave the drugs, take the cash.”

Ezra frowned at the safe, looking from it to Declan. “What… Why are there drugs in there?”

“Not our problem. Move out of the way,” Coven said, grabbing the cash and flinging it into the first empty bag.

Ezra stalked towards him. “What kind of check cashing place has drugs, Declan?”

Declan glanced down at Ezra, chucking him under the chin. If he didn’t give him some kind of answer, they’d never get out of there. “The kind that is a front for a gang’s operation. Now, let’s go.”

Ezra allowed Declan to snatch him by the arm and escort him from the building towards their black van. Only once they were all inside the vehicle and safely away from the job did Declan let go of Ezra’s arm.

“You could have just told me,” Ezra sulked.

“I shouldn’t need to tell you. I’m the boss. Just do as I say,” Declan murmured, dropping his voice to add, “I know you know how to do that.”

All the fight seemed to leave him then. He sank against him in the seat, wrapping himself around Declan’s arm and dropping a head on his shoulder. “Did I do good?” he asked, his voice soft.

Declan clenched his jaw until his teeth ached. Ezra knew exactly what that tone did to him. “Hm, aside from the temper tantrum you threw before the job.”

Ezra looked up at him, making his eyes wide. “Do I get a reward?”

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that in public, you’re going to get a punishment,” he promised.

“This whole fucking conversation is a punishment,” Coven muttered from behind them.

The others burst out laughing. Declan sighed. “Just…shut up. All of you.”

Ezra snuggled closer. “But not me, though, right?”

How did he do it? How did he go from brat to submissive to heartless monster in seconds? How was this the same boy who wanted to use a man’s own children against him to make him talk? How did they all live so easily inside one person’s psyche?

“Especially you, troublemaker.”