PART 2 – SACHA’S POINT OF VIEW

Sacha was scared, but not as scared as he'd been for the last few days. He was on his way home; at least, the place he’d been told was his home. He had no memories of it, even though it was where he'd spent the first nine years of his life.

It was good to get out of the hospital. There was nothing worse, he thought, than being in hospital when you weren’t ill. He hadn’t felt ill since the first day. The rest of the time he’d just been bored and frustrated.

He'd thought he’d be going home the day after he got there but the psychiatrist had had other ideas. After talking to him for half an hour she'd pronounced he was suffering from PTSD, whatever that was, and might be a suicide risk. Was she serious? He didn’t want to die. He really didn’t want to die, although he was preparing himself for it because the likelihood was he wouldn’t live for too much longer. Ryland wasn’t going to give up until he was dead, but as soon as he 'd told her he was resigned to death she'd decided he’d go looking for it.

She'd also said that he’d ‘normalized’ what had happened to him, whatever that meant, and he might be a danger sexually. She'd said he had an unhealthy image of sex. That was the most ridiculous of all. Of course he didn’t have an unhealthy image of sex. His images of sex were fine. He smiled, calling up a few of those images.

The stupid doctor even suggested he might be into kids. That wasn’t true. It was Ryland and his clients who were into kids. He’d never thought of them sexually, and none of his daydreams had ever involved kids in any way at all. He liked his men big and rough – the rougher the better He liked to be hurt, but there was nothing wrong with that. He’d seen videos; read books. It was called BDSM and was perfectly normal and acceptable.

Ryland was proud of him, because of that. He was the only kid who was allowed to leave the house and go to clubs and parties. He liked the looks he got when he entered a club, walking right to the head of the crowd with his escort. He’d been allowed to choose his own clothes and apply his own make-up. He’d studied the videos and photographs carefully and re-created his favourite looks. Not all the books were the specialist ones Ryland bought. Some of them were big, glossy things with articles about pop stars and fancy houses. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

The psychiatrist obviously thought there was. She was a real prude and had tried her hardest to convince him those practices were wrong and unhealthy. She was an idiot, and Sacha wasn’t about to lie. Some of the kids on the ward had told him to lie; to tell them whatever they wanted to hear, but that wasn’t Sacha’s style. And so he’d been therapied, drugged and talked at for three weeks.

In the end, they talked about putting him in a ‘facility’. That scared the hell out him. No matter how much they told him it was for his own good, he knew the score. If he went in there they’d mess with his mind worse than Ryland ever had. He hadn't helped himself when he'd freaked out completely, but hey, they could do with a bit of shaking up, the smug, self-satisfied know-it-alls.

Thank God for his father. He’d stepped in at the last minute and refused to give consent. Good old Dad. He'd told them Sacha would be better off at home with his family, who could look after him better than some ‘facility’. And so here he was; free.

They were worried though, his family, He could tell from the way they looked at him, and he was sorry about that. He didn’t want to worry people who were so nice to him, especially Lacey. He liked Lacey best. Not that he was attracted to her, girls weren’t his thing, but she was the closest to a mother he could remember, and he liked that. He liked that she held him when he was feeling bad, the way she stroked his hair, and best of all, how safe he felt when she sang to him, which was crazy, because a song wasn’t going to help him when Ryland came.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

What was there to need, riding in a car? It was an amazing car – big and black. He’d never seen anything so fancy in his life, all soft grey leather with an actual bar on one side. Lacey said it was a surprise for him. He wasn’t to expect it all the time. As if. 

“No thank you. I’m good.” And he was. For the first time in ages, he felt good.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want a drink?”

It looked like she wasn’t going to leave him alone until he had something. She was like that. Insistent. He always gave in to her. He had to. He had to make sure these people liked him. If they sent him away, where the hell would he go? He had to be careful not to put a foot out of place. It was something he’d thought about a lot at the hospital – when he was in a fit state to think at all. He had to be neat and quiet and helpful and hope it would be enough. After all, he was starting at a disadvantage – who wanted a freak like him in their home? He didn’t blame them at all for being distrustful and nervous about taking him there. It was clear in their eyes and it scared him. He had to get this right.

Lacey leaned forward and opened a cupboard under the bar. She took out a can and handed it to him. It was freezing cold. Hell, it wasn’t a cupboard; it was a fridge. What kind of freaky car was this?

Sacha was so fascinated with the cold can of soda, he didn’t notice Lacey getting sacks and was startled when she dropped them in his lap. They were delicious, especially after the hospital food, and he couldn’t stop eating. Lacey took a few, but most of them disappeared down his throat.

“Do you always eat that much?” Lacey said, startling him. “How on earth do you stay so slender? Where do you put it all?”

Sacha dropped the biscuit he was about to start nibbling, fear fluttering in his stomach. Was he messing it up even before he even got there?

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to be greedy.”

Lacey laughed. “Don’t look so worried. It’s fine. That’s what they’re there for. Besides, you’re too skinny; you need feeding up.”

Sacha looked at her carefully. She didn’t seem angry. He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

“I eat plenty.”

“Hmm, we’ll see. It looks like three weeks of hospital food has made you even smaller than you were when I first saw you.”

Uh oh. Sacha was nervous again. Was that a bad thing? She didn't look too pleased. It wasn’t as if he could help it.

“Stop looking so worried,” Lacey said with a grin, then it faded. “You’re not scared of us, are you? I know this must be difficult for you, scary, but you don’t need to be scared of us. We love you, Sacha, all of us. You’re part of the family. You always have been. Families tease each other. They scream at each other. Sometimes, they say harsh words, but they take care of each other. Do you understand?”

“Kind of.” The kids had felt like a family to him. Even Ryland. He was the father figure. But you didn’t cross him. You didn’t put a step out of place, because if you did his punishment was swift and harsh. If someone pissed him off enough, they’d disappear. Sacha liked to think he sent them away, but he didn’t know where. For all he knew, they could be at the bottom of the well in the garden. It always had a lid on it. No one was allowed to take the lid off.

“You’ll get used to it. You’ll get used to us.”

Maybe. He smiled and nodded and hoped he was doing it right. He was relieved when she let him sit back and stare out of the window again.

He must have drifted off, because he woke suddenly, confused about where he was. His head was on something soft and there was something resting on his head. A voice called his name softly and he sat up, still groggy with sleep. Blinking, he looked around and realized with horror his soft pillow had been Lacey’s lap.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

“That’s okay. It was nice. I fell asleep too. It’s so warm and comfortable in here.”

“Yes.” Sacha was still embarrassed, and he surreptitiously glanced at her leg, hoping not to see a pool of drool. It seemed okay.

“We’re nearly there. I’d have let you sleep longer, but I love the very first glimpse of the house. It’s so beautiful, and I wanted you to see.”

“Okay.”

“Come over here. Kneel on the seat, if you want to. It’s okay.”

Lacey, herself tucked her legs under her and knelt on the huge leather seat, to get the best view possible out of the window. Nervously, Sacha did that same, starting when Lacey put her arm around him and drew him in close to her side.

All Sacha could see was open country, and it made him decidedly nervous. It was so exposed.

The wall appeared from nowhere. It was really high and stretched into the distance, strangely out of place in all the greenery. In the late afternoon sunshine, the sandstone soaked in the light and looked as if it was made of gold.

The car stopped and Sacha caught a glimpse of enormous iron gates. A pang of fear shot through him. Had they brought him to some kind of facility after all? If they had, he’d be lost here. Abandoned. No one would know where he was. No one would get through those gates. He just knew there was a guard. He’d heard voices.

Slowly, the gates swung open and Sacha swallowed fear as they drove through. There was a sense of finality about passing those great, solid, iron gates as if no one who went in ever came out again. That was ridiculous. Lacey came out, so did his father. Or did they? Was this really their home? Would Lacey go with the car, leaving him here?

“Look.”

Lacey sounded excited, so he looked. The building totally took his breath away. Set on a slight rise, it dominated the skyline. It was…imposing. Made of the same soft sandstone as the wall, and with the sun behind it, it glowed. It didn’t look like a house. It didn’t look like a house at all.

As they approached, Sacha got the impression of blinking windows, and huge white pillars, supporting a porch accessed by a set of wide steps. Sweeping lawns sloped down to meet the car, which purred to a stop just in front of the steps.

“You live here?”

“We live here. This is your house too.”

By the time the door opened, and the uniformed driver set the steps for them to climb out of the car, Sacha was shaking, more convinced than ever he’d been tricked.

Stepping down from the limo, Sacha’s feet crunched on gravel. He looked around, shivering in the biting wind that tugged at the light jacket he wore. New, like the rest of the clothes Lacey had given him, and too big, so it flapped around him. 

There were people standing at the top of the steps, waiting. From the way they stood, they were staff. There had been staff at the farmhouse, too – a cook and a secretary, who dealt with all the business. They didn’t look like doctors and nurses, but this was obviously a private…whatever it was.

Taking a deep breath, Sacha closed his eyes for a moment and struggled to compose himself. There was no way he could escape. If he ran they’d hunt him down. He’d never get over the wall so he couldn’t run far. Better he face his fate, whatever it was, with some kind of dignity.

Lacey bounced ahead, racing up the steps to throw herself at a small, round woman who was almost knocked over, but hugged her back. Sacha was shocked. Lacey obviously knew these people well. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this wasn’t a hospital after all.

More curious than afraid now, Sacha followed in Lacey’s footsteps and crunched across the gravel to the steps.

“Come on, Sacha. Come meet everyone. They’re freezing to death out here.”

Lacey ran back down the steps and grabbed his hand, towing him up so fast he tripped over the too long jeans and almost fell.

“This is Emma, she’s our cook, and she’s awesome. She can make anything. She’ll feed you up in no time.”

“Good grief, boy, you’re skin and bones,” Emma exclaimed, taking him by the shoulders and looking him up and down. “Don’t you worry, I’ll get some meat on those bones in no time.” She smiled warmly and Sacha found himself giving her a shy smile of his own. Suddenly, without warning, she threw her arms around Sacha and hugged him, pressing his face into a large, soft, breast. “It’s so good to have you back, Master Alex. You have your mother’s eyes.”

“Sacha, Emma,” Lacey said firmly. “His name’s Sacha now and we have to call him that.”

“You’ll always be Alex to me, chicken,” Emma said, “but I’ll do my best.”

Lacey proceeded to introduce Sacha to five other people. He was reeling and didn’t take in much of what she was saying, so he couldn’t have told you the name or station of any of them. This was a house. This was really a house. This was his home. No, it wasn’t real. It just wasn’t. This building was way too grand to be a home, especially to someone like him.

Lacey chatted non-stop as she led him beneath the enormous white pillars and into a hall that could have held the whole farmhouse. - well almost. Sacha gazed around, feeling stunned and overwhelmed. Polished wood floors stretched out before him to the bottom of a graceful set of stairs with white marble spindles and warm, russet-coloured carpet.

Apart from the grand stairs, the décor was understated, even somewhat stark. White walls set off dark wood doors and black leather sofas with straight backs and clean lines. The chandelier that hung high above looked like an enormous, spiky snowflake and fascinated him as Lacey led him across the hall and up the stairs, naming rooms as they passed. North Wing, South Wing, sitting room, music room, study, library. His head spun with them all.

The second floor consisted of a U-shaped corridor with doors leading off all over the place. He assumed they were bedrooms. Lacey had stopped naming rooms and, instead started naming their occupants.

“That’s Dad’s room. No one goes in there, especially in the morning. That one’s Adam and Amy’s when they’re here. James’ is there. Don’t even bother going in there, especially when he’s home. It’s a mess. Mine and Luke’s is here. Yours used to be next to Dad’s but we thought you’d be more comfortable in the attic. It’s huge, like a whole flat. You could live here and never see the rest of the house if you wanted, but where would be the fun in that? There are lots of things to discover down there.”

They paused at a door at the end of the corridor. “You can lock it if you like. If you need to shut yourself off for a while. Dad has a key, too, so you can’t hide from him.” She smiled, but her words had a sinister ring to Sacha. He tried to hide his shiver, but he thought Lacey saw it because she gave him a funny look. “Here. This one’s all yours.” Lacey had unlocked the door and handed him a small, silver key. “You’ll have a lot more keys. I’ve got you a keyring. It’s upstairs. You can work out what all the keys do by yourself. It’ll be an adventure.”

The stairs were a lot less grand than the main staircase. Just plain wood carpeted in dark red. They were quite dark, with a closed door at the top. Lacey opened the door and swept out her arm in a flourish. “Welcome to your new home.”