Disclaimer: Not true, never happened, not meant to hurt anyone, eat more veggies, drink more water.
The Story:
Davey murmured. This, Adam saw, was why Davey continued to replay his memories through a distorted, blurry mental loop. His memories of that fateful day were not complete. He remembered only the pieces. . .
�No!� Davey, staring out the back of a car window, hands pressed against the glass, desperate to touch the retreating figure of his Adam as the car sped away. �Adam! Adam! Please! Don�t let them take me!�
�Davey!� Adam�s faint cries through the cage of the vehicle, �Davey! Please don�t go! Come back! Please, don�t leave me alone! Come back!� Adam running after the car now, his young, athletic legs not able to compete with the horsepower of the car�s engine. . .
. . .and shards of memory. . .
He stood in front of the kitchen. His feet shifted and the broken pieces of a dozen shot glasses ground further into the carpet and linoleum under his sneakers. The smell of Brandy as strong as if his mother were breathing it into his face. But the woman wasn�t there. She was. . .
. . . left fragmented in his weakened mind. When he came to a part he didn�t remember, or was too confused to understand, he simply returned to the beginning and began the entire events over and over again.
�Fight it, Davey.� Adam whispered. They lay still on the bed, Davey huddled within Adam�s arms, both clutching each other tightly. �You HAVE to fight it! It can�t control you like this.�
�I can�t!� Came Davey�s reply, but it wasn�t out loud. It was the weak, small cry from what little thoughts he had left to himself, his true self. �It�s too much! I can�t stop it!�
Adam grit his teeth while the hands holding Davey close became tighter. �Yes, you can! I�ll help you. Now, don�t start over again! Go back! Go back, to when mom and dad found us out. Go to there, Davey. Relive what happened next. What happened next?�
�I don�t know!� the cry was becoming more distant as Davey began to give in to his memories, letting them take over.
Adam was nearly desperate. �Yes you do!! Davey! Come back to me! Listen! When my mother, Wanda. . . She hugged you! Do you remember? After they found out, about Frank, she hugged you, and said,�
Davey�s trembling body grew still as Adam shared his memories with him, reinforcing the ones Davey thought he himself had lost years ago. And as the memories came to life in his mind, Davey found he could actually keep up with Adam�s memory.
�She said,� Davey said softly, ��Jake, we have to do something,��
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�Jake, we have to do something.� Wanda looked pleadingly at her husband. She had Little Davey in the protective enclosure of her arms and was soothing his head and back while his tears soaked into her apron. Her voice was steady but with much effort. �They�re also beating him. He can�t live like that. He even tries to hide the bruises from me, but. . . I saw them.� She looked down at the blond head with sorrowed eyes. �God, I wish I had done something before. But. . . oh, I�m sorry, Davey, I�m sorry! I didn�t think it was any of my business.�
Jake, still trying to overcome the truth of what had been going on under his very nose, then to come across an act of child abuse so hideously horrific it was giving him a sick feeling at the bottom of his stomach, nodded slowly. �Yes, Wanda. Yes, I think we�re going to have to do something about this. Little Davey can�t go back there. Not when he�s in so much danger.� He paused, then looked around, trying to figure out if the police would be the best choice or. . .
He spotted Adam watching Davey cry in his own mother�s arms. But instead of jealousy or envy, Jake saw only compassion and. . . love. He knew his son well enough to recognize at least that in his eyes. Adam looked like he wanted to go over there himself and give Davey a hug or two. To comfort him awhile.
Not wanting to encourage the two boys� togetherness any more than it already was, Jake straightened and turned to his son. �Come on, Adam, we�re going to go make a few phone calls.�
Adam gave his usual, quiet scowl, but went along to do as his father said. �Who are we going to call? Davey�s mom and dad?�
Jake shook his head. �No, they�re lucky I don�t go over there and kick their. . . well, no. We�ll let the law handle them for us. No, we�ll be making a call or two to the police and CPS. The Child Protective Services will definitely want to hear exactly what�s been going on at Davey�s house.�
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The calls went out and many people responded. Police officers in uniforms and suits came and went, asking questions and writing things down, asking Davey, Wanda and Jake to repeat what others before them had already asked. Adam wasn�t asked anything much, but he DID hold onto Davey�s hands through the entire time.
Not that Davey was going to let go anytime soon. He spent the afternoon talking to complete strangers he was told by Wanda and Jake to trust completely about his private life. The only one who really stayed by his side was a woman in a business dress.
Her hair was swept artfully and professionally away from her face. Her nails were manicured and showed not a single flaw. Her mannerisms and attitude were the exact same way: business and nothing else.
�Now, Davey,� she said, looking down her nose at him. He got the feeling she did this to everyone. �I�m going to ask you a few more questions, then we�ll be done.�
Davey nodded slowly, face still burning pink from when she had asked him to take off his shirt while she took Polaroids of his bruises not but five minutes ago. �Good. Now, Davey, can you tell me, do any of your grandparents or aunts and uncles live nearby? We�re having a difficult time reaching anyone related to your parents. They didn�t have a phone book with names and addresses, did they? Did you ever see one?�
Davey shook his head. �N-n-no. No, ma�am. I. . . I was told I had an uncle once, but I was supposed to say that about all my dad�s friends.�
The woman waited, but when it was clear Davey wasn�t going to add more, she shifted impatiently. �No one at all? Didn�t you ever ask about your grandparents or any cousins? No one ever stopped by for the holidays or even unexpectedly?�
Davey frowned, thinking back. �No. Not that I can remember. Just that lady on the phone.�
The woman, whose name not even Adam remembered, was about to write something in her notes but froze. She looked up at Davey with raised eyebrows. �Lady on the phone?� her voice dropped the words like lead. It almost wasn�t a question.
�Uhm, yeah.� Davey�s grip on Adam�s hands tightened, their skin slipping slightly from the sweat. �She calls sometimes and asks how I�m doing. She asks me all kinds of questions. And she gave me her phone number in case I need her.� He paused and looked up at the woman. �Do I need her now?�
The woman�s frozen, stone-like facade suddenly leaked a brief spurt of compassion as pity flashed in her eyes when she looked at Davey. �Yes, David, I think you need her now.�
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The police car stopped along the curb. There were other police units parked in front of Davey�s house so they had to walk a bit in order to get to the house. Along the way, Adam noted the gawking neighbors watching the commotion from the safe distance of their porches or kitchen windows.
As soon as Davey reached the lawn, he knew something was not right. What clued him in? The front door was wide open. Never mind that there were three cops conversing on the porch, or that two more were coming out of the house, carrying boxes of labeled bags of evidence, it was the door itself that unnerved Davey.
That was the front door. The front door was always supposed to be closed and locked when Davey was at home. He wasn�t allowed to have the door open any longer than he had to. And sometimes, when people came knocking, holding papers in their hands, he was supposed to hide and be very quiet until they left. If they knew he was there alone, Frank would tell him, they would do awful things to Davey. And then Frank would have to punish Davey, and we all know how much Davey dislikes Frank�s methods.
He paused on the porch. Adam was no longer holding his hand, as the woman in the business dress had her hand on his shoulder and was leading him in. But he knew Adam was there. Every now and then, he felt Adam�s presence just outside of his mind, offering the comfort his touch would give.
�It�s all right, Davey, there�s nothing to be afraid of. No one�s here to hurt you. We�re just going to get that phone number, then we�ll be off again.�
He nodded but didn�t look up at the woman. As he passed through the doorway, his eye was catching things that made him even more nervous. A few of the plotted plants lining the porch were tipped over, a couple smashed on the hard dirt beyond. With that many officers going in and out of his house, they had left a dust trail in the carpet. And, as they entered the living room, Davey spotted one more thing that could get him punished: Frank�s recliner chair was toppled over and laying on it�s side.
Frank was particular about his environment when he came home after work. First off, he had to have a chilled beer, then two more. Then some food as he sat on his recliner and watched tv. If anything was missing, or out of place, all hell broke loose. And usually on poor Davey.
Davey would have moved quickly to try and straighten the chair, but the woman�s hold on his shoulder was tight and gripped like steel. She steered him through the living room and to the start of the hall. There, she did let go of him, but to give him a little push to the stairs. �Go on, go fetch that number, David. We�ll wait down here.� She wrinkled her nose disgustedly from one thing to the next, clearly not wanting to witness any more of whatever that might be upstairs.
Behind her, Davey saw Wanda holding Adam back. Adam came for Davey; Wanda came for her son, but also for the little boy she had always wished was part of her family, also. She cared for Davey as much as a mother would for her son, and in effect, Davey was already part of Adam�s family. There was love there. There was comfort, care and trust.
Why, just one look at the love shining at him from either member of the Carson Clan and Davey felt his will strengthened ten fold. He gave them a small nod and turned to head up the stairs. But the kitchen came first.
He took a few steps, then paused, hearing the glass crunch underneath his sneakers. He looked down. Shot glasses. He recognized some of the still unbroken rims strewn with the rest of the rubble across the floor. He shifted his feet and glass creaked and whined in protest. That sound. . . it sent shivers down his spine. He knew immediately he hated that sound.
Davey turned slowly and faced the open doorway to the kitchen. Things were a mess in that direction, too. Dishes and cups alike were tossed about in a hectic tornado of furious commotion. And suddenly, Davey could see just exactly what happened. . .
The crazy bitch had come down from her room in order to refill her glass. She wore her usual dirty, limp house robe while her hair sprouted from her head in a crazy, knotted set of tangles. Perhaps she had a cigarette stuck between her lips. Perhaps she was about to light up when the knock sounded at the front door. The knock, grudgingly answered by Frank who had been busy lounging on his recliner.
As soon as Frank opens the door, he knows he made a mistake. And not his last. Nor was it his first that day. His first, he realized as the police officers in their crisp blue uniforms moved forward to take him in, was that after he left for work that day, he came back home.
The crazy bitch watches vacantly from the kitchen doorway as the police struggle to subdue her husband. They knocked over his beer, the plate of sardines and crackers he had been munching on, and his recliner, all in an attempt to slap the handcuffs on his wrists.
Now two of those officers began making their way toward the crazy bitch. She watches them, eyes still gone like her mind, and not hearing any of the soothing words they try to tell her. At last, at almost the last moment, the crazy bitch comes to her senses and realizes the same fate is set on her own head. She shrieks and tosses the drink in her hands at the oncoming police. As they duck and re-plan their strategy, the mad woman in the kitchen backs up, still screaming at the top of her lungs, until she is stopped by the sink. Frantically, she looks about for her salvation. Her way out is not clear, it is not there. She screams of her frustration, the unlit cigarette falling from her mouth to land on the floor.
Her hands, they find the neat and orderly shot glasses Little Davey has dutifully set to dry on a tea towel on the kitchen counter after scrubbing them clean just that morning. With a mad scramble, the crazy bitch takes up the glasses with both hands and begins tossing them at the men. They duck and even retreat briefly behind the protection of the wall. But not even the glasses last long. When they are gone, the police move in and subdue the shrieking lunatic as they did her husband. . .
Little Davey was pulled out of his thoughts by a hand on his arm. He looked down and saw that hand was not the large hand of the lady who had lead him back to the scene of the disaster, nor was it the warm, worn hand belonging to Wanda. It was small, like his own, but carried more warmth, love and tenderness than Davey would ever know in his lifetime.
�Don�t think about it, Davey,� came Adam�s whisper, �if it hurts, don�t think about it. I. . . I�m here for you. I won�t let anything happen to you, okay?�
Davey can�t say a word. All he can do is nod. He looks up into Adam�s gaze and understanding passes between them. Silently, Adam lets Davey go as the little boy runs upstairs.
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They are in the kitchen now. The woman in the business dress has the paper and receiver in one hand while she dials with the second hand. There is a pause and in the silence, they can hear one, two and three rings before someone answers.
�Hello?� came the familiar voice Davey remembered.
�Yes, this is. . .� But that was as far as the social worker got. The line cut off in an abrupt CLICK!
She scowled, then dialed the number again. This time, there were two rings, but no woman answered. �Hello?� the social worker asked, �can you. . .� CLICK!
A third time. �Don�t hang up!� CLICK!
The woman, almost undone by the refusal to hear her out, began to dial a fourth time when Wanda interceded. �Perhaps,� she spoke calmly, almost as if she were dealing with a five year old amidst a tantrum, �perhaps Davey should be the one to call. The woman on the other end might be thinking it�s his mother.�
The social worker blinked, finger frozen in mid air above the key pad. She looked at Davey as if for the first time. She nodded slowly, just as the first two rings sounded from the receiver. �All right, then.� she said, then handed the phone to Davey.
He brought it to his ear just as the line on the other side picked up. He waited, but it wasn�t until Adam silently mimicked talking that Davey realized he was supposed to speak first. �Uhm. . . hello?� His voice was small and meek, asking for some kind of reassurance that he was doing the right thing.
�Oh!� came the familiar voice of the woman, the one who had called occasionally and listened to his twelve year old ramblings with interest, �Davey! There you are! Goodness! You had me worried, dear. I was having the worst time trying to figure out who the he. . . I mean, who that woman was. Was that your mother?�
Davey looked up at the woman and saw that she was looking at him, eyebrows arched in surprise. �Uhm, nope. That�s the lady who brought me back home. She says I need you now.�
Silence. Then: �Tell me what happened, Davey. And tell me everything.� The woman�s voice had lost its humor and spoke strangely calm.
Davey related all that he could, without blushing terribly with all three pairs of eyes on him and four pairs of ears listening to him. He left out the part about Wanda finding Adam on top of him, and most of what Frank did to him, but he made sure to tell about the glasses on the floor and the recliner over on its side. The social worker looked like she felt these were trivial things to have mentioned, but the woman on the other end listened with just as much interest as when Davey would tell her about something that happened to him at school.
�ALL the glass?� she asked. He realized he could hear noise in the background. Familiar noise but too distorted through the phone lines that it was nearly impossible to tell what it was. �On the floor?�
�Uh huh,� Davey turned away to look at the counter to make sure. He didn�t want to exaggerate to the woman. �ALL the glass. I think the crazy bitch threw them all when they came and got her.� he paused, then went on. �Do you know what happened to them?�
The woman on the other end gave a sigh. �Davey, honey, if they haven�t told you yet, your parents are in jail. How they were treating you was wrong. Why didn�t you tell me they hurt you? Why didn�t you say something?�
Davey glanced around at the others, then hid as much as he could in the corner. With one hand cupped to the phone, he whispered, �You�re a nice lady. Just like Wanda. I. . . I didn�t want you to worry like her.�
�But that�s what I�m for, Davey.� In the background, the noise became louder and he realized what it was; a car engine. �I�m your aunt. I�m SUPPOSED to worry about you! Ahh, but don�t worry about it, not anymore. Davey, listen to me carefully. That woman there, does she have police with her?�
Davey nodded, then realized she couldn�t see him over the phone lines. �Uh, huh.�
�Okay, hard, but we�ll try anyway.� What she meant by that, he had no idea. Instead, she related her orders to him and hung up.
Davey set the phone back on the hook, then ran out of the room and upstairs. The social worker hurried after. �David! David! Come back here! What was all that about? Tell me! Come back here!�
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�She wanted me to show you these papers.� He told her. He stood in his parents� bedroom, the bottom drawer of their bureau pulled out and tons of paper strewn every which way. Davey, of course, got it out just as his aunt had ordered him to.
�She said they were important and that you�d want to see them before my parents can get out of jail. She said. . .she said I had to show you.� Davey�s voice went back to small and meek. He shifted nervously as the woman in the business dress gracefully knelt down and picked up the nearest paper. As she read, her eyes lit in wonderment. She picked up another paper and gasped. A third paper made her hands tremble.
�Not. . . not possible!� she began scrounging up at all the other papers, �all this time. . . right under our noses!� But Davey had already edged around her and snuck out of the room.
His aunt had told him to do that, to show those mysterious papers, those incriminating papers to the social worker. And while she was busy with those, he was to hurry and pack a bag. For what, the woman didn�t say. Nor did Davey ask. He already knew this would be the last time in this house for him. Frank and the crazy Bitch wouldn�t be there that night, and probably not for many nights after.
Davey grabbed his school bag and shoved as many things into it as possible. It wasn�t much. And he found he had room enough for a few more things. Just a few more.
He rushed back into his parent�s room and moved around the little group gathered there. The social worker was now joined by three police officers, all searching the papers in deep scrutiny. None looked up to see Little Davey swiping his mother�s bottle of perfume and his favorite pieces of jewelry.
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Adam stood at the bottom of the stairs. Wanda wasn�t with him.
�She went outside to wait.� Adam said at Davey�s unspoken question. �My dad says he�s gonna come talk to the police to see if we can�t take you home with us.�
�Okay,� Davey smiled. �My aunt is gonna come in a few minutes, she said. You can meet her. We�ll all go to your house.� His blissfully ignorant expression brightened even further when they heard a car come down the street. �She�s here!� Davey cried out. He excitedly grabbed his best friend�s hand and hurried out, bag swinging wildly.
Two arrivals came, actually. The first was Jake. He strolled up the porch and took hold of Wanda�s hand just as the shiny black Cadillac came to a stop in the driveway.
The two adults turned their attentions to the car. The two adolescents stood hand-in-hand, watching as the driver�s door opened. A man Davey would later come to identify as Grindo, his aunt�s chauffeur, stepped out, his height making Davey�s neck hurt. He came around and opened the back door.
Out stepped a woman, graceful and neat as well as pretty and young. She wore a dress of some dark red that matched not only her shoes but her earrings, purse and scarf that tied off her braided hair. She looked about the place uncertainly, then spotted Davey. Her expression turned to sun-warmthed happiness.
�Davey!� she said, coming over.
Davey ran out to meet her, dragging Adam along. He stopped a few feet in front of her and waited until she knelt before him. �Are you. . . m-my aunt?� he asked softly.
The woman looked apologetic. �No, no, sweetie. I�m Scarlett, your aunt�s assistant. Your aunt couldn�t be here. She tried very hard, but there�s too many cops here.� she saw the puzzled expressions on the boys� faces. �Cops make her nervous. But don�t worry! Your aunt isn�t very far away. As soon as we can get you in the car, we�ll be on our way to meet her.� she spotted his bag and smiled. �Ahh! Packed already? Good boy! Come along now. We�ll get in the. . .�
She stopped. She had taken a hold of Davey�s hand and began pulling him along to the car when she noticed he still had a hold of Adam. �Oh, no dear, we can�t take him.� Scarlett said at the same time Wanda and Jake made it over from the porch.
�Wait a minute!� Wanda cried out.
Jake rushed over and took not only Adam�s hand but Davey�s as well. �These boys are not going anywhere, thank you.� His words were polite but his tone was gruff.
Scarlett paid no heed. �Of course, that must be Adam, your son. No, I didn�t mean to take him, I only meant to take Davey. His aunt is waiting for him. And we mean to leave very soon, so if you don�t mind. . .� she stepped forward to take Davey�s hand again. Jake pulled him back further.
�Actually, I DO mind.� He glared. �Who are you? What proof do you have that you have guardianship of this boy? I think you should wait for the social worker to come out and get everything sorted out.�
Scarlett looked like she�d rather take on Jake than to wait for a social worker. �Oh, here.� she rummaged through her back and reluctantly brought out a set of papers. �I didn�t want to do this, but I simply MUST get little Davey away from all these police officers. Especially after they�ve found out what Frank and Dolores have been doing all these years. Go on and read that. Official US documents that show who Davey�s aunt is. And Why she can�t come herself.�
Jake read through a paragraph of legal crap, then hurried through five papers to get to the last page and the name scrawled at the bottom line. Wanda peered over his arm. Both of their jaws unhinged. They looked up at Scarlett. �Her? HER?!� Jake�s voice became high pitched and disbelieving. �She�s his aunt!?�
Scarlett nodded. �Now you see why she can�t come. And why we need to leave now.�
Jake looked from the paper to Little Davey, then back again, head shaking in wonderment. He stopped, then looked up at the woman. �But, how can he be safe with her? He would be better here, under the law system. If he went with you, he would be like her, running for his life.�
Scarlett�s expression turned grim and sorrowful. �And how long would they let him live? He�s HER nephew. If not the government, then an assassination plot. He was fine here, years ago. No one knew who he was, no one cared. But with the police invloved, it�s only a matter of time before they find out all their names are fakes. Then the real questions will be asked. They�ll find out sooner or later. But until then, we need to get Davey away from them as soon as possible.�
Adam looked from his parents to the woman, and back and forth. He gleaned only little from their talk. But what he figured out was something important: his parents were trying to decide whether or not to let this woman take his Davey away.
Adam looked across at Davey, who now took shelter in Wanda�s arms, looking up with a dazed expression at Scarlett. Davey. . . leaving? No, it couldn�t be. . . he wouldn�t. . .
�Stop!� came a sudden shout. Jake and Wanda whirled around to see the social worker now standing on the porch. In her hand she clutched a fistful of papers as she glared out at them. �Just hold it right there!�
By the time Jake, Adam and Wanda turned around to face Scarlett again, they realized several things. One, Grindo had started the car again. Two, Scarlett was not there. Three, neither was Davey.
She had gotten Little Davey to the car door before he began to struggle. �No, wait!� he pulled up short and began to frantically turn around, eyes catching Adam�s. �Adam! I can�t leave Adam! He�s my best friend!�
He would have gotten free but Scarlett�s strength was frightening. She gently, but forcefully picked him up and pushed him into the open car door, which Grindo assisted. Jake immediately ran forward, two steps behind Adam.
�Davey!� father and son cried out as they came to the rescue. Adam, small enough, dodged past Grindo and hurried to the car. However, Jake wasn�t so lucky. The force of Grindo�s punch sent him flying back into the dirt.
�Jake!!� Wanda shrieked and ran to her husband�s side. Adam paused, looking back to see his parents on the ground and the social worker hurrying across the yard to them. It was enough time, Adam realized later, that gave Scarlett and Grindo enough time to make their getaway.
The Cadillac pulled out of the driveway and started down the street. Adam ran after it, desperate and crying out Davey�s name. The back window showed him his heart�s desire, crying and banging hands on the glass, calling out his own name.
For three blocks he ran after the black Cadillac, but even after the first block, he knew it was no use. They had taken his Davey, and he knew he would never get him back.
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Grown-up Davey opened his eyes and sighed at the precious sight of his Adam holding him protectively. He smiled beautifully, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening. �Never?� he whispered, �If it means a few years past ten, then it�s not very long. Not when we have forever.�
Adam smiled and nodded. In a moment, that smile slipped and worry found his eyes again. �Davey, WHY did that come back? Those memories. . . they�re the past. Just shadows. Why now?�
Davey looked away, then changed his mind and determinedly found Adam�s gaze with his own. �Because. . . because for me, it�s not just shadows. They�re real. And I�ve spent years trying to figure out who I am and what exactly happened. Adam. . . do you know who my aunt is? Your memories seem vague.�
Adam shrugged. �I was thirteen. I barely understood what was going on! She was. . . an outlaw, wasn�t she? Someone running from the law?�
Davey nodded. �Aunt Celeste, yes, she was. . . IS an outlaw. She has very strong ties to the mafia. You could almost say she IS the mafia. Or was, twenty years ago. Then the FBI almost caught up with her. She�s been living in different countries since then. And for a few years, I was with her.�
Davey fell silent, his memories of recent years running in his mind but still blocked off from Adam. Adam watched him for a few minutes, then let his gut-jumping solve his questions. �You still mean to go after your parents, don�t you?�
This startled Davey, especially since he himself hadn�t realized that was his plan until Adam spoke it out loud. He pressed his lips together, then nodded. �I have to, Adam. You probably can�t see why, but I have to. I learned a bit about my family from Aunt Celeste and Scarlett, as well as others who work for her, but there are some things that only my parents can tell me. Things Aunt Celeste doesn�t want me to know about. Things she knows I NEED to know.�
Adam looked at those fierce, dark brown eyes and finally nodded. �All right, but I�m going with you. And no but�s about it. Either we go together, or you don�t go at all.�
Davey smiled at Adam with pure adoration. �Of course, Adam. Thank you.� They shared a kiss, then slowly got up from their comfortable sprawl.
�Think it�s about time we headed back out to the party.� Adam said as they stood and started for the door. �No telling how long we were out of it.�
�You mean, how long I kept you tied down.� Davey said. In the hall, he stopped Adam. �Adam. . . thank you.�
Their eyes met time stood still, sped up, then slowed to a crawl again. Their surroundings dissolved and all they could see were each other�s eyes. All they could feel was the other�s heart slow heart beat, in sync with their own. All they heard was the soft inhalation of their lover�s breath. Wild, chaotic patterns flashed before Adam�s eyes and glorious, angelic singing reached his ears. . . and then he realized it was just because he was kissing Davey.
He broke off the kiss, reluctantly, and the world came back for both of them. They let out shaky breaths at the same time, and with the same yearning passion. But the look in each other�s eyes told each that their time together would have to wait for later. They had a party to get back to.
Adam held onto Davey�s hand and pulled him out of the kitchen, not caring if anyone remarked on their behavior. He had his Davey back again, and he�d be damned if he lost him again. Davey was thinking along the similar lines, until he and Adam both took a look at what had been going on outside.
The two stopped short, their jaws hanging open in shock. �What the fuck. . .?� Adam managed, but got nothing beyond that. There really were no words for it. . . .
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