Timeless Masters | boyxboy | (Book Two: The Master Collection)

Chapter XVIII - France

The side of Oliver's face was still tender from the hard collision he'd had with his bedroom floor. Nerves shaken and mind unsettled, he could only imagine what Quinn was feeling at the moment. They were separated for now, the dark-haired boy up at the top of the coach, guiding the two horses along. The plan was to run away in the dead of night, and although they'd succeeded in the running department, Oliver was sure having Mr. van Zant discover them had not been the intention. Scared of the possibilities that could follow in the wake of Mr. van Zant's anger, Oliver's only hope now was that no one would ever find them. If the man was fraught enough to find and punish them, Oliver considered the possibilities of Mr. van Zant sending people after them. To be found, to be returned to that place, the blond boy feared the worst of it.

He hadn't any idea of exactly where they were at the moment, but they'd been traveling for four hours, stopping for only an hour after the distance between them and Southampton proved assuring. Deciding to dispatch from England on a vessel at the southeast end of the mainland, Quinn chose wisely to embark first from Dover, and then ride the rest of the way into France. Doing it that way meant they wouldn't have to stay in Southampton any longer than necessary. Once they reached Dover, a boating city along the coast, they would stay in a hotel until morning.

For a minute, Oliver wondered what his own father's reaction would have been. Would he have lost every piece of love and respect he'd had for his son? Would he have struck Oliver for the first time in his life? He should have considered losing the bonds made over time with his family, he should have been prepared for any resentments, but, honestly, Oliver hadn't expected to feel this fear following their leave. In this time of dread, Oliver needed someone to tell him that everything would work out.

Pulling the blanket given to him over his body, Oliver lay down on the cushioned bench of the coach. If he could just rest his eyes for a little while, then maybe the internal shakiness would subside.

After a great distance had been put between them and the Dollins manor, Quinn had taken the time to change from his regular noble attire, and into a butler's uniform he'd found in the servants' laundry room. Until they were both in the clear, he would act as Oliver's personal servant. His entire body was still sensitive after the horrible encounter with his father, but he tried his best to put it all behind him. Without ever having any sort of loving connection with the man, Quinn wasn't the least bit surprised to be immediately loathed and disgusted by him.

Sure, he hadn't expected to take a beating the way he did, endure such harsh treatment that came with hammering fists, but nonetheless, he wasn't too affected to know he and his father were cutting all ties. Growing up, no one besides Oliver and Mr. and Mrs. Dollins acknowledged him as someone. If anything, he felt more sentiment about Oliver leaving behind everything instead of himself. He felt like the only person right now who was leaving completely, while Oliver, although the boy had been ready to abandon his home life, he would be leaving half of himself here in England.

Nothing but the darkness of midnight surrounded them, the distant hoots of owls off in the trees, the crunching of wheels rolling along the lonely path through a vast forest. Quinn had two lanterns set up dangling at the top of the coach with him, but their light was weak compared to the pitch blackness all around. He wanted to hurry up and get Oliver into some better shelter, but the City of Dover was still about thirty minutes out.

Once he steered onto the main road leading into the shoreline city, Quinn searched for a suitable hotel out in the center of the marketplace. There was only one that appeared open at this late hour, a five story building founded out of red brick. He rolled the coach around the back, locking it and the horses in a stable connected to the hotel. He rounded it, then, and opened the door. Oliver was asleep inside, curled up on the bench with a covering over him. Gently nudging the blond boy, Quinn said, "Come, my love, we will rest here until the sun rises."