Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

Kim who was investigating the Delaware family finances. A note high up on the comment section stated that the only way anyone could get that kind of information was from someone on the inside of the family, and that was obviously never going to happen.
    Sebastian turned off his computer and headed back to the bedroom. He wanted to wake Gerald up right then and there and demand answers, but that wasn't likely to go well. He'd have to tread carefully, but maybe he could get Gerald Delaware to talk.
    ****
    Sebastian fed Daren one of the last of the antibiotics and some more Tylenol. It was less than ideal as far as pain management went, but Daren hadn't complained. He'd woken a bit groggy after a few more bad dreams, but he seemed to shake them off pretty quickly.
    "So, I was watching the news last night," Sebastian started casually. "And the third item was about this rich party boy who's been missing for a week."
    Without a second's hesitation, Daren flung himself from the far-side bed. It wasn't his usual nightmare-induced flailing; it was an honest attempt to run for his life. Sebastian reached him just in time to grab Daren as his leg gave out from under him.
    Daren pounded at him and kicked despite his broken arm and bad knee. "It's okay." Sebastian did his best to hold him tight, cognizant of the broken ribs. "You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you."
    Daren continued to thrash. "You're safe. It's me; it's just me. I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe. I promise."
    Finally, gasping for air, Daren calmed down enough for Sebastian to wrestle him back to the bed. He checked the bandages on Daren's arms first. "Okay, it doesn't look like you ripped anything open again." Daren was still fighting for breath. Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed and waited. When Daren finally calmed down, he turned and looked at Sebastian, fear still in his eyes.
    "So, Gerald, who's trying to kill you?"
    Daren's face went sour. "Don't call me that."
    "What? Gerald?"
    "It's an awful name. Gerald. My father put it on the birth certificate while my mom was still drugged up. She wanted to call me Daren. That's what she always called me when no one else was around."
    "Okay, you seem more like a Daren to me anyway."
    "So… what did the news report say?"
    "That you're missing. That your grandfather is putting up a lot of money for you to come home." Daren snorted. "There were some side notes on your cousin and some financial investigation."
    Daren sharply turned his head away. "You know, I was there that night." His voice was so small, Sebastian had to lean forward to hear. "I was in the room, watching him do that to that girl, watching his friend film it. I was coming down off a speedball. I couldn't move. Half the time I was hallucinating. I didn't even know what I was seeing. It wasn't until the next day that I even put together what had been going on." There was a hitch in Daren's breathing.
    "You posted the video."
    He shook his head, eyes still glued on the far wall. "Not right away. In my family, we don't…" Daren took a deep breath. "It was maybe a week later at another party. I heard my cousin tell his friend that he'd gotten the girl deported. They laughed. And… People talk about having a line . Something they won't cross. I didn't think I had one. I waited until people were drunk, took the phone, found the file, and hit share. Took less than a minute."
    "That was good of you."
    "Don't," Daren snapped.
    "Don't what?"
    "Whatever good thing you're thinking about me, don't. I am as bad as the rest of them."
    "I doubt that, but okay."
    Daren didn't reply. Sebastian was watching the slivers of sunlight start to creep across the floor. Daren rolled his head back to look at him. "When I was five, I was given a new nanny. Well, bodyguard. Richard, ex-SAS, but they told me he was my nanny. He'd read to me before bed. Tintin and Asterix , exciting stuff. Then he'd tuck me in and go down the hall and have sex with my mother." Daren's voice didn't change in the slightest at those last words.
    "I'm… Sorry?"
    "It's okay. Dad was screwing half the help. Mom and Richard actually liked each other. When I was in eighth grade, Richard helped me get an A in English with an essay on Hamlet . It always stuck in my head. A powerful family crumbled because people got greedy or paranoid or just went nuts. My dad found out about my mom and Richard after that, or at least finally, started caring. Dad fired him and then got his visa pulled. That was the