Safe Hands

7. Consequences

Alex walked into the room after the sounds ceased, the tension palpable in the air. Damien leaned against the desk chair, while Grayson sat on the bed, hands cuffed like a criminal. The sight was unsettling, even for Alex.

He tossed the bag in the center of the room, letting jewelry and wallets spill out. Damien scoffed, his expression hardening.

"What's the meaning of all this?" Alex demanded. Grayson tensed, looking like he wished he could vanish.

"Well, I'm not deaf. But I know about you, Grayson. Maybe you want me to come check?" Damien said in a threatening tone.

"Did you steal from the shop and those people? And did you cause the alarm trouble?" Alex asked.

"Yes," Grayson responded almost silently.

Alex sucked in a breath, sharing a look with Damien.

"Let me get this straight, Grayson. You're a liar, a thief, and a rebel?" Damien reached for the belt again, his voice dripping with menace.

Grayson refused to meet their gazes. "Fine, I'll just get it out of you already." Damien grabbed the belt, pulling Grayson to the wall.

"We're just getting started, Grayson. Your sentence isn't pronounced yet. From now on, you only respond with 'sir.' You've lost all privileges." Damien's voice was icy. "Hands above your head, this instant."

Grayson reluctantly obeyed, his defiance unwavering.

Alex felt a pang in his chest. "I've warned you not once but a million times about your attitude and all this nonsense. I don't understand why you're doing this, Grayson, or why you think it's okay. Do you want to end up in jail or juvie? This has to stop." He exchanged a look with Damien.

"Get going already. I haven't got all day," Damien said. Alex started to the door.

"We're not keeping that on, are we? I need you to feel this and think about what you've done," Alex heard Damien say as he shut the door. The sound of the belt followed by a stifled groan was muffled by the walls.

Alex walked into Russell's room where he was talking with Julian. They went silent as soon as he entered.

"How's your arm, buddy?" Alex asked, sitting next to Russell.

Russell glanced at him. "Fine, it ain't that bad."

Julian sat by his father's side. "Dad?"

"Yeah?" Alex stared at his son, who seemed worried.

"What's wrong with Gray? He's different. It's like he doesn't want to be here. Why don't you let him go back to his parents?" Julian asked innocently.

Russell rolled his eyes. "I told you he doesn't have parents."

"Then where was he before this? Is he adopted?" Julian returned.

"You should all do your homework and come down for dinner. We'll talk about this tomorrow." Alex ruffled Julian's hair before leaving, looking slightly worried.

He got to the study and switched on his laptop, opening Grayson's file.

"He used to live with his stepfather in Chicago. He can be a handful, but it's not his fault. He'll come around, with time, hopefully," he recalled Peter saying.

Alex pressed on, studying the file but finding nothing valuable except two expulsion letters—one from elementary school, the other from middle school. There was something to worry about, and Alex could feel it. Was it safe to keep him around the boys, seeing that he attacked Russell?

The door of the study flipped open, letting Damien in. The man tossed his jacket and belt softly on the modern sofa.

"That kid is a tough one," Damien said, sitting on the sofa.

Alex watched him. "That was long. I hope you weren't too hard on him, now, were you?"

Damien met his gaze. "Hard kids need hard punishment. I measured it and gave it to him as deserved. He wouldn't cooperate, not after he almost dropped—"

"Damien, I didn't ask you to traumatize him," Alex hissed.

"I didn't traumatize him. He looks like he's traumatized you. It's not his first time anyway. The boy didn't shed a tear. I could see it wanting to spill, but he just wouldn't let it out. Even when I beat an apology out of him and made him talk, it didn't change a thing. He looked used to harsh way, more like a kid who's been emboldened in crime."

Alex opened his mouth to say something but stopped. "Why is he like that?" he finally said instead.

Damien spread his arms on the sofa. "Negligence, little to no parenting. He acts like he's lived on the street all his life, like a ghetto kid. Are you sure he lived with his stepfather?"

"Yeah, he didn't fight for custody, though. I signed all the documents, and I didn't meet him once," Alex stated as he scrolled through the document.

Damien peeked at the screen. "Got expelled twice. This should be raising concern. Plus, he must belong to some gang or something. He's got all those scars and burns, and some are very fresh."

Alex huffed. "You sure gave him a hell of a beating, he would be dead scared of you now."

"Stealing, lying, aggressing his cousins, and giving everyone a hard time—do you think it deserved a love pat? I was halfway through, but he seemed like he couldn't stand any more lashes, so I let it go. But we might just resume where we stopped tomorrow if he wakes up with all that aggression," Damien added.

Alex sighed softly. "I'll look into therapy if it gets worse."

Damien peered at his brother. "Yeah, do that. And don't forget to return the stolen objects to the store."

Alex groaned in annoyance as he closed his laptop. "I better check on him." He rose. "If he's still alive."

Damien grunted. "I'll be leaving now. I still have to look into the mafia's affairs. Some of them were spotted downtown by members of the police department. The detectives are on the drug affairs. We have to look in the east tonight. I might not make it back tonight."

Alex nodded. "Be careful out there. And you better go check on Russell."

Damien paused. "I'm sure he's just fine. The glass wasn't thick enough to cause serious damage."

Alex sighed as he left, traveling the hall while thinking of the relationship between Damien and his son. He got to Grayson's bedroom door, gently twisting the handle and pushing the door open just enough to slip his head in.

He scanned the room, finding Grayson's small frame entwined with the sheets. Welts crawled into the sheets that covered half his back. The teen was peacefully asleep, his thick raven hair a mess, shading his forehead.

Alex hadn't realized how skinny Grayson was. His collarbones looked like they would pop out of his flesh.

He ran a hand over his face as he watched the boy. Grayson's hoodie was scattered across the room, as were his trousers. His old van shoes with holes lay in different parts of the room.

Alex made a mental note to bring in writing materials to keep Grayson distracted. He left the room, shutting the door slightly. He couldn't help but think of his twin sister and wonder how it had come to that.

A/N

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