Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

wrote down the number. “You‟re left-handed like
    Saunders,” Conran remarked.
    “Daddy says more gays than straights are left-handed,” Angel said. “He knows
    everything; he‟s so smart.”
    “Yes, he always was,” Conran agreed. “He‟s a brilliant man.”
    “Daddy said you were a snotty little fuck at school.” Angel forked up a
    mouthful of pie. “On second thought, I probably shouldn‟t have said that.” He met
    Conran‟s eyes. “Sorry.”
    The man did not seem to be offended. “He‟s right. I was. I‟m not nearly so
    insecure now. But Saunders was a bit of a prick himself. I don‟t suppose he told you
    that.”
    Angel laughed. “No, but I have no trouble believing it. Are you gay, Mr.
    Conran?”
    “No,” he said quickly. “I‟m a married man. I always wanted to be married.”
    “Then what is it with you and Daddy? I‟m not jealous or anything because I
    know he loves me best. And masters often have more than one slave. But I think
    you love him.”
    Conran blew out a long breath as if the whole subject was far too complicated
    to explain. “I have certain needs, and he fulfills them perfectly. It‟s harmless
    enough. And you‟re right. He loves you more than anything in world.”
    “Mr. Conran, I‟m really worried about him. I love him so much.”
    “Is he good to you?” Conran looked intently at him as if he desperately wanted
    to know.
    “Yes, sir. Daddy is the best thing that ever happened to me. No one ever gave a
    shit about me before him.”
    “Is he strict at home?”
    “Not like he is in the dungeon,” Angel said, and Conran‟s cheeks grew slightly
    pink. “He‟s strict, but no one ever cared about me enough before to be strict. No one
    made me go to school or do homework. No one made me brush and floss twice a day.
    No one taught me how to fire a gun or defend myself if I got attacked.” He finished
    his milk.
    “I hear you‟ve turned into a crack shot.”

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    133

    “Yes, sir, and with my amazing night vision and my steady hand, I would
    make such a good sniper.” Despite Daddy wanting to keep him out of SIS, Angel
    wanted it so badly that it would do no harm to put in a few hints with Conran.
    “Would you indeed?”
    Angel nodded. “Mr. Conran, please find Daddy. I can‟t live without him.” He
    looked at his empty plate and stood up. “I‟d better go. I keep thinking he‟s going to
    be home any minute. Or at least I keep hoping he will.”
    “Let me call you a taxi,” Conran said. “I‟d drive you, but there‟s no one to stay
    with the children.”
    “No, it‟s okay,” Angel said, but Conran had already picked up the phone.
    They walked to the front door and waited. “Did Saunders leave you money for
    food and so on?” Conran asked.
    “Yes, sir. All the household bills are paid directly out of Daddy‟s bank account,
    and he set up an account for me. I get the same amount to spend every month, but if
    I go into overdraft or bounce a check, I have to pay the fees myself so I‟ll learn to be
    responsible.”
    “Very wise of him.”
    Angel was surprised when Conran placed his hand gently on Angel‟s shoulder.
    “Everything will be all right. I swear that man is indestructible. We‟ll find him.”
    A car horn sounded outside. Conran opened the door and walked with Angel
    down the steps to the street, where the taxi waited. “Go home and try to sleep. I‟ll
    phone you when I have news.” He handed money to the driver to pay Angel‟s fare.
    Suddenly overcome with worry and fear for Daddy and gratitude to this man
    who he knew would help him, Angel wrapped his arms around Conran‟s neck and
    pulled him close. After a brief hesitation, Conran held him for a second or two
    before releasing him. “Off you go now, Angel. Go directly home and try not to
    worry.”
    An hour later, Angel climbed into bed and turned out the lights. He pulled his
    blankie from under his pillow and held it to his chest. Mr. Conran would help find
    Daddy. He really cared about him even though they had had that falling out in the
    park last year. He rolled over onto Daddy‟s side of the bed. Then, unable to hold it
    back any longer, he curled up on his side and began to cry quietly. Daddy, please
    come home.

    * * *
    That bloody man! He’s been an utter bastard as long as I have known him, and

    now he’s taken to rescuing children. What the hell has got into him?
    Conran sat at his desk in Vauxhall Cross waiting for