As they stood up to leave, Baran felt a sense of relief and gratitude. Despite the pain and turmoil of the evening, Darien’s kindness and support gave him hope that things would get better. Together, they walked out of the shelter, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Chapter Seven
Darien
Darien parked his caroutside the medical center, the neon lights flickering against the darkening sky. He glanced at Baran, who was trying to put on a brave face despite the pain. They walked inside, the antiseptic smell and hushed conversations of the waiting room enveloping them.
They found seats and settled in, the tension between them thick. Darien could see the worry etched on Baran’s face. He placed his hand on Baran’s arm. He planned to find Hawk and return Baran’s suitcase to him.
“How are you holding up?” Darien whispered.
Baran shrugged, wincing slightly. “I’ll be okay. Just hurts a bit.”
They fell into a thoughtful silence before Baran spoke again.
“Hawk…I never expected this. I mean, I knew he didn’t like me, but I never thought he’d get violent.”
Darien’s eyes hardened. “What he did was plain wrong. I’ll deal with him, but right now, we need to focus on getting you better.”
Before long, the nurse called Baran’s name, and they followed her into a small examination room. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow. Baran sat on the examination table, his legs swinging nervously.
The doctor entered, a kind-looking woman who introduced herself as Dr. Patel. She examined Baran’s injuries with gentle hands, her face a mask of professional concern.
“Well, Baran,” Dr. Patel said after a thorough examination, “the good news is you don’t have any broken bones. Just some bruises and a split lip. You’ll need to rest and let your body heal.”
Darien nodded, relief washing over him. “Thank you, Doctor.”
She turned to Darien, “Two Tylenol every six hours is all he needs.”
“Will do. Thank you, Doctor.”
As they left the medical center, Darien kept a protective arm around Baran’s shoulders, guiding him towards the car. The drive to Darien’s home was quiet, but the tension of the day had lessened somewhat.
“Here’s my house. I hope you like it,” Darien said, breaking the silence.
“Wow! It’s all decorated for Christmas. It looks like something on a book cover or postcard.” Baran smiled a sweet smile, and his eyes sparkled with happiness.
“Will you be okay spending Christmas with me?”
“Yes! It will be my first one. Do I have to go to church?”
“No. I practice my faith in the real world. You’re safe.” Darien grinned and rubbed the top of Baran’s head.
During Christmas, Darien’s three-story, New York City brownstone was a magical wonderland of twinkling lights and decorations. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood in the front window, its ornaments glistening in the early winter evening. The front steps, flanked by wrought-iron railings wrapped in sparkling fairy lights, led to a sturdy wooden door crowned with a lush wreath. He held Baran’s hand to make sure he was secure. Holding hands with Baran didn’t appear to bother him at all.
“Did you decorate all of this?”
“No. Some boys from the shelter did. Even Hawk helped.”
Inside, the home was a cozy haven of holiday cheer. The foyer opened into a spacious living area, where a massive Christmas tree was decked out in an array of colorful ornaments, tinsel, garland, and twinkling lights.
“That tree is so tall!”
“It’s a real tree. I cut it down myself at the tree farm.”
Stockings hung from the mantle above the marble fireplace, which crackled with a warm, inviting fire. The scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air, mingling with the sound of holiday music playing softly in the background. Everything was set to a timer, and luckily, it was perfectly timed for their arrival.
He walked Baran to the dining room. “My dining room. I don’t use it much since I’m alone here. I have Miss Charlotte, who lives on the third floor. She takes care of the house and cooks. I told her you were coming so you might see her tonight.”
