Eclipse Of The Moon ~ Book 1 of Aaron
Chapter 29
Hope Is A Virtue

Tuesday 24 June 2003

The day has flown by and yet, it felt like it dragged on until the moment I settled at the island counter of the kitchen and started a lonesome dinner. Contrary to what Ivan said, I didn't have much to do, he didn't leave me with specific tasks or chores, so I quickly got bored. I offered help to Anita while she was here, and she did let me help her cook the risotto for lunch, but it was quite fast.

After lunch, and once I was alone, I busied myself with a thorough tour of the house. That place is freaking amazing!

Of course, I had already seen most of the ground floor: the large entrance hall with its closets and the staircase; the huge main room with the U-shape couch, the dining area and the open kitchen.  Everything is so sparkling clean and bright thanks to the bay-window wall, the white furniture, the white-tiled floor and the other walls painted in white!

In the kitchen, two doors give access to first, some sort of stock and laundry room, and then to restrooms, but I was mostly curious to discover the two rooms on each side of the living room. The one where Anton stayed earlier this morning is a library, but not only.

Two sections of wall are covered with shelves and shelves of books that made me wonder whether Ivan has a keen interest in literature or if he even has time to read. The room is also equipped with two very comfortable black leather armchairs, a black round table with four chairs, but the most interesting is the snooker table, the pinball and the media unit with its television, a PlayStation, games, DVDs, a stereo and CDs. I actually spent a couple of hours there playing Need For Speed and then trying the pinball a bit later in the afternoon.

I also peeked into Ivan's office, and although I didn't dare to venture in, I still got to see that it was modernly furbished with a long black desk and chairs, a sofa, a meeting table and plenty of closets.

Upstairs, I checked again the obviously unoccupied bedroom across from mine. This one has a walk-in closet and a bathroom and is decorated in blue. Further into the corridor and right after the bathroom I already used is another bedroom which is a perfect copy of mine in terms of setting except that it's decorated in black and white. Across from this one was a locked door, so I couldn't visit there. And finally, at the far end of the corridor was Ivan's bedroom.

I barely stepped in, not daring to invade his privacy, but it was enough for me to see that it perfectly matched the man's personality. Despite the dark shades of black and red of the walls and furniture, a full window wall that leads to a terrace gives the room a certain brightness in daylight. The bed, larger than a king size, is majestic with its bedside tables, and the black satin sheet made me want to sprawl over the mattress, so before I did something I shouldn't, I quickly escaped without opening the two other doors inside the room.

In the later afternoon, once it was less hot under the sun, I also performed a long tour of the outside. I couldn't get into the garage since it was locked, but I managed to walk into the building in the backyard and it turns out to be a gym with various machines. Hadn't my body still been quite sore, I would have gladly used the big muscle-building unit. Instead, I took a quick dive into the swimming pool – in my briefs for lack of bathing trunks – though not for long for fear of slowing down the healing process of my scratches.

As I lazed and even napped on a deckchair, I realized how much of a great place Ivan's property is and it's such an extreme contrast to my homeless condition that it's quite hard to take in.

Now that I'm done eating the leftovers of risotto, I don't really know what to do. I wish Ivan had been here, we could have continued our conversation. There's so much I yet have to ask him, so many questions about him, his likings and his activities. I wonder what could keep him so late at work if his nightclub doesn't open on Tuesdays.

It's barely 9pm and I'm not even tired. Sighing, I hop off the stool and head to the living room, feeling like I'm missing something. I know what it is. I would actually love a cigarette to complete the delicious meal I just had, or even better, a joint. Unfortunately, I don't know where my backpack is, but...

Remembering that I didn't entirely smoke my cigarette last night, I rush out to the terrace, only to dramatically discover that the ashtray has been emptied.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Now that the idea has creeped inside my head, the urge to drag on the roll and to feel the smoke invade my lungs becomes unbearable, turning into an obsession that has me shivering despite the heat. I have been dealing quite well so far with the privation, that's for as long as I was busy enough, so that's it. I need to think of something to do. Something that will drag me away from an impending whirlwind of despair.

That's when I realize that I haven't spoken with my best friends in over a week now. In fact, I was about to call Cam on Sunday morning before drama kicked in.

Thinking about the guys now sure is the best thing to do, Ron!

Crap! What am I going to tell them? I can't say a word about Jaden's death or its circumstances, that would reveal too much about the supposed life I've created for them, and they would worry to death. That means breeding new lies, but then again, what lies? Shall I tell them about Ivan and his offer? I'm not sure as they might find it weird. Such a mess... It's such a mess!

And yet, even if only to hear their voices, I would love to speak with them now, it would distract me from my other urges. There are two minor problems though. One is that it's past midnight on the East Coast now, much too late to call them; and then, I don't have my phone. The device is in that fucking backpack that Ivan has kept from me. The bag in which I should find my cigarettes and cannabis...

Well, I no longer give a shit about the privacy of his office. That bag is mine and I'm pretty sure it's there, so that has me instantly fly back through the house and barge into the study.

And there my bag is indeed, more or less concealed between two closets! Yes! At least I'll be able to have a smoke!

Not willing to stay inside this room where I feel like I shouldn't be, I grab my bag and hurry back to the living room where I empty the contents on the couch. Baby wipes, my notebook, two pens, my phone with its dead battery and the charger, my flask, a few other trifles and that's it. Where the fuck is my pack of cigarettes? And where's the last chunk of cannabis I had? I can't even find the plastic bag in which I had secured my most important documents and my wallet in which there was the rest of my cash, which I could have used to go and buy cigarettes!

Fuming, I rush back to the office and start feverishly searching the room for my belongings. Sadly, whether it's the closets or the desk, all the doors and drawers are locked.

No... No... Noooooooooo!!!

Raging with anger, I leave everything in the lurch on the couch and scurry upstairs, in the hope that a shower will soothe my nerves and help me to relax. In the beginning, it does. The warm water slowly unties the knots in my muscles, allowing me to breathe a little more steadily, but it's only short course.

I can't help but feel terribly lost and hopeless. I should have reread Ivan's agreement as per his request, given some thought to it, but I haven't. What should I do? The offer is undoubtedly appealing, and in the end, my major concern is whether I will be able to handle the counterparts. I can understand all the accepting and surrendering, it's just that I believe I could grab my shit together without his help and his stringent conditions.

Of course, you could, Ron. You're no weak guy deep down. It just might take ages to reach what you could achieve in a few months or years under this Samaritan's guidance. Let him take control of your life!

Yeah, because that's what it's all about at the end of the day. That's what he wants.

Mr. Vargas wants to take control of my life like he certainly does with his employees' work, except that it's my life we're talking about. Am I game to put it within a stranger's hands and trust him with it? Am I ready to bear with his authority and give up on certain things I actually love? Wouldn't I rather leave this house tomorrow morning and start a new life on my own?

I'm sure I could manage. Like Ivan said, I have a strong personality, I could tend to myself, and I have already made suitable decisions in the past. On the other hand, I can't deny that some of these decisions led me toward a painful downfall. Now that I think about it, it seems like I need adequate motivation to function properly, and that motivation lies in the people surrounding me, like my best friends in New Jersey.

Taking my mistakes on Jaden would be utterly unfair, because I should have been strong enough to decline the first joint he offered to me. I let myself fall into the addiction spiral and I was the one who got us into prostitution. And yet, I must admit that Jaden wasn't the best influence and he put us in fucking trouble. I didn't push him to steal Miguel's drugs. I wasn't unfaithful to put a loot into his bag.

True, but you deserted him...

As if losing the sole semblance of a friend I had here wasn't enough, my guilty conscious has to rub my cowardness in my face and that has me collapse on the floor of the cabin. While my tears begin to mingle with the water sprinkling from the showerhead, my nails that had already started to dig into the palms of my hands find their way to my thighs and sink into their tender skin. Engulfed in a spiral of self-pity and doubt with so many thoughts swirling in my head, I just wish I could fall into oblivion.

Staying?

Leaving?

Staying?

Leaving?

Make the right decision, Ron...

* * *

The following morning, I wake up with a revived determination.

I don't know how long I stayed weeping and scratching my legs under the shower stream last night, but it was long and lasted until I became aware of all this waste of water. Even if they had stopped bleeding, my thighs were in a poor state and quite red. The pain didn't bother me. As a matter of fact, it kind of soothed my anxious mind and helped me to think clearer. By the time I had wiped myself and slipped on clean briefs, I had made my decision which allowed me to fall asleep as soon as I hit the bed.

Yes, I believe I'm going for the right option; staying here and surrendering to Mr. Vargas, since that's the word he used. It's not only about enjoying the luxury of a beautiful house – I would accept too if he lived in a less amazing place. I don't want to go back living on the streets, period. I don't want to start it all over again. I don't want to risk sinking further into my additions.

I want a better future. A future I had started dreaming of when I was in New Jersey, and I'm pretty sure that Ivan can help me on this path. Now, that doesn't mean I'm going to yield so easily to just anything and if that communication-rule goes both ways, I well intend to use it.

To be honest, I'm a bit upset that he left me alone yesterday. I do get that he has a job and can't dedicate more time than he already does to me, but leaving after he threw me that contract, telling me that I should provide an answer today, was quite harsh. I haven't really had a chance to get to know him much and I have a ton of questions for him too.

He did spend a bit of time with you to explain, though...

Yeah, I'm a bit unfair, but it's not fair either that he knows more about me than I do about him. But that's going to change. Now.

With much resolve, I get off my bed, wincing at the way the skin of my thighs painfully stretches after what I inflicted to them last night and from the remaining soreness in my limbs. On the chest of drawers, I see the pile of clothes that Anita laundered and left for me to put away, which I was supposed to do yesterday, but that will wait a little longer. Once I have grabbed decent jeans to cover my thighs and a tee-shirt, I head to the bathroom for my morning routine and to dress up.

It's very quiet when I head downstairs and although it's only 8, I am expecting to meet Mister Ivan Vargas in the kitchen. However, he is nowhere to be seen, probably still asleep if he turned in late last night. Great. Fucking great.

Oh, well, since he said I should make myself at home, I decide to uplift my spirits by cooking my breakfast. A couple of fried eggs and toasts later, I feel satiated, but my craving for a cigarette returns. Unfortunately, the situation hasn't changed since last night, I don't know where my pack is, and I don't have cash to buy a new one.

As the minutes pass, brooding on my stool at the island counter, tension builds up within me and an hour later, when he eventually deigns showing up, I am more than ready to snap at him. If he thought that wearing only pajama pants and exposing a beautiful, nicely-chiseled, perfectly toned and gorgeous chest would ease my mood, he was clearly mistaken.

Or maybe not. My cock had to react in front of such handsomeness, but that's fine. I can hide my emotions too.

"At last..." I grumble when he meets me at the counter, and the discreet smile he was bearing instantly fades away.

"I beg your pardon?" he asks dryly.

"It's 9:30. I thought you'd never get up."

The bitterness in my voice has his stance stiffen right away, his eyebrows draw together as his eyes narrow, and I can tell he is trying to contain his own annoyance.

"You'd better watch your tone, Aaron," he warns me in a low voice before he heads further into the kitchen.

"I've been awake for two hours! We were supposed to talk this morning, but I assume you'll be gone to work soon and I'll have to wait again," I exclaim with bitter accusation, almost shouting at him.

Exhaling very slowly, Ivan walks back around the island counter, his eyes locked with mine, and firmly grabs my jaw, forcing my head to tilt up and to hold his glare.

"Do. Not. Aggress. Me. Upon. Waking. Up. It's the second time I'm telling you to watch your tone in less than a minute, there'd better not be a third time," he says very calmly although his voice clearly perspires with annoyance. "And since you don't seem to have understood that respect is a fundamental value, I know exactly how to drill the message into your thick skull. You'll copy our agreement five times, that should keep you busy this afternoon."

"Wh... What!?"

"You heard me well. Don't make me repeat myself. Now, if you will, I'm going to have breakfast."

With that, he lets go of my jaw and heads to the main counter where I, once again flabbergasted and speechless, watch him prepare tea and toasts. When he returns a few minutes later, words are still stuck in my throat, so I just remain quiet and contemplate that gorgeous guy spread fig jam over his bread before he fetches a pill organizer from a cupboard.

"By the way," he suddenly resumes, "you didn't assume right. I'm not leaving until 2pm today, so we'll have plenty of time to talk as you can see."

"Oh... I thought..."

"You thought wrong. Obviously."

Way to go, Ron! What a great start! Now you've pissed the bear. You'd better buy yourself back if you want him in a better mood.

"I apologize," I mumble in the sincerest voice I can muster.

"You're still getting your punishment. And while we're at the reprimanding part," he then adds, nodding at the living room and I suddenly remember that I had left mess on the couch last night, but quickly turning around, I see that everything has disappeared, "I know that I said you should make yourself at home, but that excludes my office and my bedroom. Let's consider these as my private spaces and you aren't allowed in there without my permission. Is that clear?"

"Very clear, sorry about that... I... I was just... I just wanted my backpack."

"Then you should have asked, I told you there's my phone number on the counter. Then I doubt you truly needed anything from your bag seeing your old phone was still on the couch. Were you looking for your cigarettes and the cannabis?"

"Yes... Can I please have them back?" I ask gently.

"No, you can't. I don't even know why you're asking. That's unless you've decided to leave," he states, raising his eyebrows. "Have you thought about the offer?"

"Yes, I have..."

"And?"

"And I think I'll stay, but..." I reply hesitantly, trying to focus on his stern expression rather than on his taut chest. "But there are a few things I'd like to discuss first."

For a couple of minutes, only silence echoes in the room except for the small noises he makes while munching his toasts and sipping his tea. His eyes never leave mine, so I guess I should carry on.

"And also... It's not fair you know so much about me when I barely know a thing about you," I accuse, and I hate that my tone sounds so childish.

"I've never forbidden you to ask questions," he retorts with a shrug of his shoulders before he hops off his stool.

Ivan goes to fill a glass of water from the fridge dispenser and when he returns to the island counter, he opens a compartment of the pill organizer that says Wednesday and swallows a bunch of pills.

"So? What did you want to know?" he asks as he gets back to his breakfast.

"Let's start with basics..." I say more cheerfully, happy that it's finally my turn to ask questions. "How old are you?"

"39."

"Holy shiiiiiiit! You're old!!!" I exclaim, immediately realizing the double mistake I've just made from the glare he throws at me. "Sorry... I didn't mean it this way... I mean... You don't look like you're 39... Are you sure you're that old?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I'm 39. I was born on March 13th in 1964, so do the math yourself if you don't believe me," he grunts yet with a glint of humor. "And it's not old."

"Still a bit," I mumble playfully. "That's still more than twice my age."

"Glad to see you can count. Next question, Menino?"

"What does that menino thing mean by the way?"

"That's equivalent to little boy in Portuguese. It's an affectionate nickname, a bit like chum, buddy, or little dude in English. It suits you well actually since I'm so old and you're so young..."

"I'm not a baby."

"Meeeeh... a bit sometimes..." he argues, for once laughing wholeheartedly.

"Bulsh... Rubbish! Anyway... Why use a Portuguese word?"

"Brazilian origins, Menino," he replies with a wink.

"Were you born there?"

"Nope, I was born here in Cali."

"Your name doesn't sound Hispanic, though."

"Because it's not," he chuckles. "It's Slavic."

"So... You also have origins in Eastern Europe?"

"Yeah. My mother was Ukrainian and my father was Brazilian," he explains with a bit of nostalgia, pausing for a few seconds before he goes on. "They'd both emigrated to the US in the late 1950s; my mother because she wanted to break away from her ultra-conservative family, and my father because he just wanted to live the American dream."

"Are they..." I whisper warily after another whole minute of silence.

"They died in a home accident," he states in a blank voice.

"Goodness... I'm sorry..."

"Not your fault," Ivan blows softly, smiling warmly at me. "They had a rather crappy little house that my father was trying to do up; he wanted to impress his parents who were quite rich. My grandparents were visiting for a few days, so my parents had given their room to them upstairs while they used the convertible couch in the living room. There was a boiler failure and they got poisoned in their sleep."

"Didn't they smell anything?"

"Unfortunately, carbon monoxide is odorless and it's very deadly. Hadn't my grandfather needed the restrooms in the middle of the night and found them, the rest of us might have died that night."

"Wow... so sad. Must have been a shock to him..."

"Definitely. For a long time, he felt guilty he hadn't woken up earlier, but he saved us and that was already a lot."

"True. I'm still sorry to hear..."

"It was in 1968, I was barely four when it happened and I don't have many memories of them," he replies in a low voice, just before a bright sparkle lights up in his eyes as he begins to roll the ring around his finger. "After that, my grandparents settled in the US to take care of me and they were wonderful. My grandmother was very motherly, and my grandfather taught me a lot... perseverance, honesty, fairness. We were very close."

"I can see this in your eyes."

"Yeah," he chuckles. "Once I had grown up and turned into a responsible adult, they returned to Brazil, but I often visited them there. After my grandmother passed away in 1989, I wanted my grandfather to move back to California, but that old stubborn mule never accepted to leave his wife alone. He just couldn't help visiting her grave almost daily."

"That's quite understandable."

"Well, that was just his idea."

"What's yours?" I ask, perplexed by his rather bitter tone.

"To me, one doesn't necessarily need to visit their close relatives' graves. The most important is here and here," he says with another warm smile as he taps his right temple with the tip of his index finger, then his heart with the palm of his hand. "I still often think about my parents and my grandmother, and since my grandfather died earlier this year, I haven't visited their graves once, but there's not a day I don't have a thought for them. But that's enough for the sad topics," he then cheers, grabbing his mug of tea. "Next!"

"Okay... Are you really gay or... bi?"

Alright. So that one was out before I could use the filter between my brain and my mouth, but far from upsetting him, it makes him spit back part of a mouthful of tea and burst out laughing.

"If that ain't straightforward!" he exclaims, soon recovering his seriousness. "I'm gay, Aaron, and that makes me think I should perhaps punish you for what happened in the car a couple of weeks ago, and..."

"Wow, wow, wow! I hadn't agreed to anything back then, you can't do that cause the agreement's not retroactive!" I exclaim, scowling at him. "I'm sorry for the cash I stole, though, because I can't give you more than a hundred bucks back... that's all I have left, so..."

"I wasn't talking about that, though now you're mentioning it, I could add that to the list. That and the other time it happened at the hospital."

Fuck!! I had totally forgotten about that one! The money was in my jeans! I could have gotten cigarettes yesterday!

"Forget about it, Aaron," he smirks before I have had time to say anything. "I took the cash back when I undressed you."

"I'm sorry," I reply meekly, quite ashamed of myself to be honest.

"As you should be. Now, to get back on what I was saying before, about what happened in the car..."

"Hey, the slap was enough, I got it about the safe sex," I grumble. "I don't need another lesson."

"Still wasn't talking about that, but you're right, that adds to the long list of mistakes and trust me, if you stay here, you'll hear about safe sex again. It's important, Aaron," he says very seriously, giving me a hard time to not roll my eyes. "Can I finish what I was saying or will you interrupt me again?"

"Go ahead..."

"I was talking about your age."

"Oh, that..."

"Yeah, that. Picking you up was risky enough, but it could have put me into serious troubles. Legal age consent is 18 in California, and I don't do minors."

"But you still go to prostitutes," I mutter under my breath and casting my eyes down as a deep rumble echoes from his chest.

"No, I don't."

Peeking up to test the waters, namely to see if I can push him further, I only get to witness disbelief in his expression, as if what I said was utter nonsense.

"You still did that night," I retort cautiously, confused by the way he shakes his head.

"Remember the part where I own several nightclubs?" he asks rhetorically. "Don't you think I get to meet enough guys whenever I want to hook up? I didn't intend to fuck you. My initial intention was to speak with you and offer help, so I was just testing you and your personality."

"But why? I mean... Why me?"

"I don't really know..." he says awkwardly, leaning his elbows over the table and staring at his laced fingers before his eyes peer up at me. "I felt that the young man I saw walking on that pavement, had nothing to do there. I just wanted to help him. I'm glad I was given a chance to meet you again, Aaron. You know... Anton patrolled Santa Monica Boulevard quite a few nights to find you again. Without success, obviously. And by the way, sending that young girl to warn your friend... that was well thought," he chuckles.

I'm at a loss for words again. I am once more flabbergasted by this revelation, and somehow, I feel like he even withheld part of the truth. I can't believe he went as far as sending his friend to search for me. Had I seen the black SUV in the area, I would have fled for fear he'd ask for his money back.

"Again, I apologize for the money I stole," I whisper since I can't think of anything else to say.

"To be honest, I didn't mind that much if it helped you to feed yourself, but I'm pretty sure most of it went into drugs, and that's what upsets me," Ivan replies rather dryly. "I just wanted to help you, get you out of this shit, so what pissed me above all was that you ran away without even giving me a chance to explain."

"I couldn't have guessed..." I mutter contritely.

"I know, but you're here now, safe and sound, so it's all that matters," he says with such a warm voice that a pleasant tingle runs down my spine.

"By the way, what happened on Sunday exactly? How did you find me?" I chip in, avid to change the subject.

"I didn't find you, you found me," he chuckles. "It turns out that you were mobbed across from one of the clubs I own. The incredible coincidence is that I rarely visit that one and I was there for a quick inspection. Anton was outside speaking with the bouncers while I was finishing a tour of the club with its manager. I was just meeting him when he noticed a bunch of guys chasing another one and he recognized you. I wasn't sure since I could only see your back, but whoever it was, we just couldn't not interfere when we saw the gang corner that guy in an alley.

"So, Anton and I grabbed a few more security guys and hurried there. There was a bit of tension, but in the end, those rascals quickly caved in and fled for fear the cops might show up, and that's when I found out it was you. Once we'd called an ambulance, Anton went to get the duffle bag you'd dropped while I checked on you. I don't think the fight lasted for more than two minutes, but I was afraid there'd be serious damage, and that's how I found the plastic bag in the waistband of your jeans.

"By the time the ambulance arrived, I had gathered all your belongings that Anton took to my car and had already drawn a little plan. It was easy to pretend I was your uncle, so the paramedics allowed me to follow you in their car, and at the hospital, it wasn't any more difficult. I gave my ID, but then again, as long as the bill gets paid, they don't really ask questions."

"Wow..."

That's all I can manage when Ivan concludes his explanations. Should I say I was extremely lucky? I guess I was. Somehow, it's like another sign I should accept his offer. It's like Fate is pushing me in his arms.

With the most honorable intentions, Ron, right?

Hmm, yes, of course!

"Thank you, Ivan," I eventually blurt out. "Thank you for saving my life. Not sure I would have survived if you and your..."

"That's fine, Aaron, you're safe now. Truly safe. Besides, Anton dealt with the gang problem, so they won't bother you anymore."

"What did he do?" I ask curiously as a less pleasant shiver courses down my back.

"Don't ask."

"Please! Tell me..."

"You don't need details, just to know that it's sorted out," Ivan replies firmly, but my curiosity has been aroused.

"What is Anton exactly? I mean... to you."

"He told you. He manages the security in all my establishments. Each have their own security manager, and Anton's their boss. Above all, he's one of my two best friends. The other one's called Marcus, and you'll get to meet him too at some point. The three of us met in high school and have been friends since then. And since I work with Anton, he's the one you'll probably see the most."

"Hmm. Okay. Are you two...?" I ask with a chirpy wink that has Ivan burst out laughing again – and it's so good to hear him!

"Anton's straight as a pole!"

"Oh, okay," I mumble, cursing my gaydar for failing me on that one, but since Ivan seems in a better mood and I am truly enjoying our conversation, I push the next question up. "What does your job consist in? You said you'd tell me about your schedules."

"It's quite vast, but to make it simple, let's say that I have a guy who manages 90% of my businesses, a bit like a counsellor, so I don't have much to do on these ones except for a few official visits once in a while and regular business reviews. I entirely trust him with that," he exposes briefly, his body and expression tensing for some reason. "I spend most of my time working at my largest nightclub because... that's the part I like the most in my job."

"Aren't nightclubs open only over the weekends?"

"Not necessarily. The Heaven Water operates Thursdays through Sundays."

"Why did you have to go last night then?" I insist, and somehow, it seems like my question makes him nervous.

"I wasn't there, I was at another nightclub where I had to solve a minor issue... and it was quite unusual. So about my schedule, in general, I'm off on Mondays, ... either work with my counsellor or visit my businesses on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, then... I'm at the Heaven Water for the rest of the week," he explains rather awkwardly, however, it's not the main information I hold back.

"Does that mean you'll never be home all these nights?"

"You got it."

"Could I go with you this weekend?"

"Nope. Not until you turn 18."

"Why!?"

"Because the legal age for all my clubs is 18," he chuckles.

"Ugh, that's not fair. I've been to a few rave parties since... I arrived here..., but I've never been to a nightclub and I'd love to go sometime... especially if I get to meet guys," I add, wrinkling my eyebrows.

"Yeah... when you're 18," he retorts in a tone that clearly dismisses further argument. "Now let's talk about something more serious. Shall I understand that you're willing to sub-rrender to me, to follow my guidance and to abide by my rules?"

His voice has now recovered its whole strictness, and yet, it also holds some sort of expectation, it's almost pleading. Well, I had already made my decision in any case. I can imagine that it won't be fun every day, his rigidity might become a pain in the ass, but if I manage to make him relax like I have this morning, perhaps it won't be too difficult.

"Yes, I accept your offer, Mister," I reply with a grin after a long minute of silence.

"Good boy," he chuckles before he once again takes a stern expression, straightening on his stool. "Let's make something else clear then. Like I said, you may enjoy the entire house except for my bedroom and my office. Should you need anything, you'll just have to ask. Don't steal anything or use my personal accessories like my toothbrush or razor, understood?"

"Why would I do that?" I deadpan with a snort.

"Humpf, you never know with teens. Also, Anita is not tidying slave, and neither am I. You're responsible for the mess you make, we're not here to clean after you. You may eat to your heart's content, Anita will cook most of your meals when she's around, but you should clear up your mess afterwards. I like my house tidy and clean, so you'd better put some effort into this. Is that clear?"

"All clear," I sigh as he gets off his stool, bringing his dishes to the kitchen.

Great... Another cleanliness freak...

"Hey, c'mere," he then says once he's back by my side and I soon find myself engulfed into a tight hug. "Thanks for accepting the offer, Menino."

"I should be the one thanking you," I reply in a whisper, becoming a bit emotional. "I was getting hopeless..."

"Never stop hoping, Aaron, there are always solutions to problems, and without faith or hope, you just can't succeed. Hope is virtue you'll learn."

Hmm. If he says so.

His embrace feels so good that my own cuddly self revels into his arms. Damn! If he's as tactile as I am, we might get along even better!

However, the contact with his bare chest and his taut muscles gives rise to weird sensations within me. Well, that was expected.

Come on, Ron! Be serious! That guy could be your father!

And? The man is absolutely gorgeous and he doesn't look like he's close to 40! Nonetheless, he clearly looks like one of those alpha males and I doubt he'd let me top him. Sadly.

In order to avoid any form of embarrassment, I make sure that my middle section doesn't touch his and just enjoy the hug. Although I am almost his size, I happily let my chin nest against his collarbone, suddenly feeling small and as if I was becoming a child again. It's like finally living the adolescence I partly missed, even if I still wonder how things will go around Ivan.

After a brief stop by our respective bedroom to change into shorts, Ivan takes me to the gym outside. There, he teaches me how to use some of the equipment like the treadmill, the rower and the multi-gym machine that looks super cool. Except for my last coach who was a real jerk, I have always loved PE, so the part of our agreement that says I'm supposed to exercise at least an hour each day shouldn't be a problem.

Despite my sore body and Ivan's warnings, I make a point to try each of these instruments, appreciating that the pain they incur somehow soothes my anxieties, and after two hours sweating on the machines and a good shower, I must admit that I feel better. And hungry as a wolf.

The good thing is that Anita has arrived meanwhile and prepared our lunch that we enjoy in the dining room. Ivan explains that her schedules aren't regular and vary according to her availability and his needs, but she comes nearly every day, at least for a few hours.

Obviously, we also talk about my future and that includes returning to school. To be honest, I'm not too keen on spending another year in high school, not mentioning the fact that there's no way I can enroll into any school or apply for any official exam until I turn 18 without risk of revealing my location to my parents. However, Ivan comes up with a fantastic option.

"You could take the GED too."

"What's that?"

"It's a high school equivalency certificate that opens doors to nearly all colleges and universities. I'll have to check how it works, but unless I'm mistaken, it's just an exam that you need to prepare in advance and take in dedicated centers," he explains.

"Sounds cool! Though I still wouldn't be able to take the test until mid-October..."

"No problem, that'll give you three months and a half to study and prepare it. I could even get a private teacher to tutor you..."

"That's not necessary, I can study on my own."

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

The rest of our conversation goes around my childhood again and I'm just beginning to tell him about my best friends there, but that's when he receives an important phone call and retreats into his office. Then, all too soon, it's time for him to go to work. Oh well, I guess it'll be for another time, most probably tomorrow morning.

"Aaron, please come here for a minute!" Ivan calls out just before he leaves.

I am speaking with Anita in the kitchen, answering her questions on my food tastes, so I excuse myself and hurry to meet Ivan by the entrance door.

"Yep?"

"I'm leaving now, so be good and don't forget to copy your lines," he says in his authoritative voice.

"What lines?" I ask with mock innocence.

"You'll quickly learn not to play these games with me, Menino. As a consequence, five times has just turned into seven."

"I was just kidding!!!"

"And I'm not. Not with discipline. And you'd better not complain or I'll make it ten times," he warns me. "You can use the library. I've left the agreement there and you'll find everything you need on the table. Also, I'd like you to pick a book from the shelves and start reading it. That'll keep you busy until I figure out that GED thing."

"That much?"

"Did you have anything else to do this afternoon?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow, but my silence is enough of an answer. "That's what I thought. Don't forget to call me if you need anything, I have a business dinner tonight, so don't wait me up again and go to sleep by 10:30 the latest as I'll wake you up early tomorrow."

"Are we going anywhere?"

"Yes. I've made an appointment for you with my doctor for a complete check-up, then we'll go shopping. Have a good afternoon, Aaron," he says, pulling me into a brief hug.

And then he's gone. Without even giving me a chance to ask why I should see a doctor. Apart from these few bruises, I'm in good health!

As I remain planted in the hall after his departure, what I register above all is how my anxieties quickly creep back in now that he has left. What the heck is this man doing to me? I'm pretty sure I made the right decision staying here, I feel like I can trust Ivan more than anyone else here in Los Angeles, but I must admit that all these weird emotions scare me a bit.

What scares me even more is the next conversation I will have with Joshua, Camden and Mark. What the fuck am I going to tell them? I won't be able to postpone this call forever, though, and once I have recharged my phone, I'm certain I will find quite a few messages since I haven't spoken to them in almost two weeks.

So much stress...

I really, really, really need a fix.

Published on 27 November 2019

So you've finally discovered a bit more about Ivan, and I must say, it was a really pleasant chapter to edit for me (other than the fact that the first draft was crappy and I had to rewrite everything) because I had developed his character so much while writing the rest of the book and half of the next, that I had a lot to add with his background being much clearer.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and that you're not missing smut too much. Don't worry, there'll be some quite soon and once Aaron starts his submission phase, there'll be plenty to catch up on.

A little note about the title of this chapter: again, it's one of a long series of chapters with similar titles that will be scattered now and then until the middle of the next book. The reference is made to chapter 74 of Twisted which was partly in Aaron's POV (during Noah's rescue). If you remember, at the end of that chapter, Aaron kind of hears Ivan's voice hammering the virtues he taught him. So, although I'll change that list later when I rewrite TM to make it match all the virtues that Aaron will truly learn, hope is the first one.

That's it for today. The next chapter will be a little more painful as you can easily guess from the end of that one, but it also has a fun part since you'll get to meet Ivan's other best friend. Well, fun... it was fun to write, naughtily funny actually, but I'll let you discover that next week. And if you're wondering about the guys, don't worry, you'll hear them very soon too!