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“I’m glad.” Syren sat back down in the doc’s chair. “Relationships are tricky things when it’s between just two people. I imagine it’s even more so when it’s three of you.”
Eyes narrowed, Scotty asked, “So you’re my new therapist now?”
“I am whatever you want me to be.” Syren spread his hands. “I’m intimately familiar with being vulnerable, with not knowing who you can trust, with being afraid.”
Scotty couldn’t see it. He couldn’t imagine the man sitting before him, as beautiful as he was, as fragile as his features falsely made him appear, ever being weak or afraid.
Syren chuckled, having obviously read Scotty’s mind. “Sit.” He motioned to the couch where Scotty usually sat during his sessions. “Join me and I’ll tell you a story.”
Scotty hesitated at first, but Syren hadn’t hurt him. Maybe keeping him talking would prevent him from doing anything that would give Zander cause to retaliate. So Scotty sat, if a bit apprehensively, and Syren began talking.
He told Scotty of the boy he’d once been. A little boy whose entire family had been murdered, a boy who’d then been stolen and sold, who’d been used and abused, a young man who’d betrayed his fellow captive, the only person who’d loved him at that time. Then he shared about being homeless and all the things he’d had to do to survive, and of his plans for revenge. Doing whatever it took to find the people responsible for all of it. How he’d become powerful with a face that so many feared.
And then he shared about being a father, falling in love, and building a family.
Through it all, Scotty barely breathed. He was riveted. It was a story that didn’t fit what his eyes saw before him. But maybe that was the entire point. Underestimating Syren was a deadly mistake. When Syren finally finished his story, Scotty just stared at him.
And Syren smiled, though this one was not as exuberant as those previous. “Shocked you, did I?”
“Uh.” Scotty coughed. “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse. “A little.” A whole lot.
Syren nodded. “I see myself in you.”
That had Scotty’s eyes widening. How could that be? Syren was Syren and Scotty was…not.
“You’ve been through some things, and you’ve been cast aside.” Syren leaned forward. “You’ve been vulnerable, and I want to make sure that you are safe. That you are where you want to be and for the right reasons.”
Ah. Now it was making sense. In his own fucked-up fashion, this was Syren’s way of checking that Scotty was okay, that he was happy, and that Vince and Zander weren’t taking advantage of him. Something in him softened and his shoulders relaxed, lowering from where they were perched near his ears. He pressed his lips together. “They take care of me. And I take care of them.”
Syren kept watching, studying him.
“I imagine you know my story?” Scotty asked, because Syren looked like a man who knew everything about everybody.
“I do.”
Scotty didn’t even want to know how he did. “Right, well…” He exhaled. “For the first time, I feel like I can breathe. Because they insisted I do therapy, I was finally able to fully grasp that it’s not my fault that my uncle killed my mother in front of me. Zander made my boogie man disappear without me having to ask and now I can sleep at night. Vince gives the best hugs and they’re both so protective of me.” He choked up. “I didn’t even know what it meant to have goals until I met them, so you can stand down from whatever this role is that you’ve appointed yourself. I am happy and I am loved, not because they speak the words but because I feel it and see it in their actions, big and small, every day.”
Just thinking about it filled him with a fresh rush of gratitude. He really had that. After everything he’d endured, he had it.
Syren’s eyes did that glittering thing again. “Good.” He stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If that changes, you know how to contact me.” He turned away.
“Wait.” Scotty got to his feet, taking a step toward him before stopping. “So all this is what, your twisted way of looking out for me?”
“You could say that.” Syren cocked his head. “You ever been to Costa Rica?” Scotty stared at him drolly until Syren grinned and touched his face fleetingly. “I meant what I said; I see a lot of me in you.” He winked. “Take care of yourself and your men, Scotty.” He opened a door that led into another area of the office and disappeared from view.
Scotty stood there for a good minute or so, trying to absorb what just happened. How was it that he had one of the most dangerous criminals around worried about his well-being? And how would Zander and Vince handle hearing about this?
He blew out a breath and took some time to gather himself. It was time to leave since Doctor Esai was obviously indisposed. After a while, he left the office and made his way back to where his bodyguards stood around waiting for him.
“Ready?” Lobo asked. He’d appointed himself as somewhat of the spokesperson of the trio.
“Yeah.” Scotty nodded, taking his backpack and phone when Lobo handed them over. He kept his mouth shut about what just happened, but on the drive home, he sat in the back of the black BMW and replayed every word Syren had spoken.
When he got home, he made his way out to the back patio where Vince and Zander were waiting. They sat on one of the lounges they’d put out there, Zander laughing softly as Vince nuzzled his neck. They looked so different from the men they’d been the night they all met. They looked relaxed, at peace.
Just the sight of them made Scotty smile.
He’d meant everything he’d told Syren. Those men were his and he was theirs.
