Shade's Champion

By Cheryl Headford

Sixteen-year-old Shade has spent years imprisoned in a dark cellar after being snatched as a young child. Events since his release have left him traumatized and desperate to die.

Dory is a lively and engaging seventeen-year-old with mental health issues that make him a slave to his dangerously uncontrollable emotions.

When Shade comes to Eastbrook secure children’s home because no place else wants him, the manager appoints Dory, for better or worse, to be his champion, an appointment Dory takes very seriously indeed.
As friendship turns into something else, something new and exciting, they struggle to find their feet as every step leads to more complications.

When a spiteful act separates them, it seems their love is doomed before it even has a chance. Then Dory falls ill and it’s up to Shade to take up the standard and be his champion, although it might already be too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Nov 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781487413774

Book preview

In a world where normal is an impossible standard, love can sometimes be the only thing worth fighting for.

Sixteen-year-old Shade has spent years imprisoned in a dark cellar after being snatched as a young child. Events since his release have left him traumatised and desperate to die.

Dory is a lively and engaging seventeen-year-old with mental health issues that make him a slave to his dangerously uncontrollable emotions.

When Shade comes to Eastbrook secure children’s home because no place else wants him, the manager appoints Dory, for better or worse, to be his champion, an appointment Dory takes very seriously indeed.

As friendship turns into something else, something new and exciting, they struggle to find their feet as every step leads to more complications.

When a spiteful act separates them, it seems their love is doomed before it even has a chance. Then Dory falls ill and it’s up to Shade to take up the standard and be his champion, although it might already be too late.

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Shade’s Champion

Copyright © 2017 Cheryl Headford

ISBN: 978-1-4874-1377-4

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

Look for us online at:

www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

Smashwords Edition

Shade’s Champion

By

Cheryl Headford

Dedication

To all the Shades and Doriens of the world. You’re never too broken for love and don’t let anyone tell you normal is a requirement for a true and loving relationship. No matter who you are, you’re entitled to your happy ending.

Chapter One

"You can’t be serious. No. It’s out of the question."

Penny, you’re our last option. The hospital won’t keep him any longer. They can’t. His own family doesn’t want him, and no foster family will take him. He can’t go to a children’s home because he’s such a high risk. Frankly, I have no idea what to do with him.

But this is a secure unit, and that kid’s done nothing wrong to anyone but himself. Do you have any idea what kind of kids we have here? We can’t watch him all the time, and half the little bastards would be queuing up to hand him the razor blades.

What else can we do? He’s stable enough for the hospital to discharge him, but he can’t live alone, and no one else wants him. We’re out of options.

Don’t get me wrong, I feel for the kid. He’s in an impossible situation, but we’re just not set up to handle someone like him. Are you sure he wouldn’t be better in a care home or psychiatric unit?

Honestly? I believe that’s where he’s likely to end up, but the kid’s sixteen and has been through the most horrific experience. He deserves a chance.

And you think he’s going to get it here?

Penelope Creedy, Penny to her friends, struggled and failed to keep the incredulity out of her voice. It was evident the social worker was new; she hadn’t had the idealistic desire to help everyone beaten out of her by the system.

No, no I don’t. Not really, the social worker said, but the poor thing has to go somewhere.

I don’t understand why he can’t go to Hillcrest or Maes Y Ffynnon.

They won’t take him. It’s too much responsibility for them, and they can’t give him a high enough level of care.

Care? Penny laughed aloud. "We don’t provide care to our kids, Donna. We provide food and shelter and locked rooms. If we’re lucky, we get them to study now and again, and a couple even go to school. Most of them are under psychiatrists and headed straight for prison. Occasionally, we see one of them turn around, but mostly we’re marking time until they can be unleashed on society and start committing their crimes."

That’s a very bleak view. The social worker had a hint of censure in her voice, which made Penny defensive. Damn these idealistic idiots with their rose-coloured views.

"This is a very bleak place," Penny snapped back.

No worse than his last. The comeback was soft and sincere and made Penny feel vaguely guilty. She sighed and closed the folder that lay open on the desk in front of her. She ran her finger over the name on the cover and sighed again. It’s one prison for another, Donna. Is that really what he needs?

A prison he can handle, Penny. It’s freedom that’s too much for him.

Penny’s stomach flipped at her words. All right, we’ll give it a try. I’ll take him on a temporary basis, while you keep working to find a family. I don’t want you slacking off, thinking he’s going to be settled here. You’re to work hard at it. He’s here for three months, tops.

I’ll see what I can do. I promise.

The relief and triumph in her voice made Penny’s stomach flip again. It was all well and good being an idealistic social worker, but that did the kids no good once the front gates closed on them. To think of an innocent in the middle of all this...

I’ll bring him right over.

Now?

Why wait?

But I’ve nothing prepared.

He doesn’t need much. We’re holding just about everything he owns in the world in two suitcases his family dropped off at our offices.

Why would they do that? Why would any family abandon a child like that? Especially one who needs them so badly? It was an all-too-frequent occurrence, and Penny had hardened over the years, but this time it hurt.

Nine years is a long time. A child goes away and a man comes back, good as, anyway. They did their best, but when he started hitting out, then with the suicide attempt—they have other children, young ones. He was behaving... inappropriately.

And that’s a good enough reason? Your child cries out for help, and you send him away?

I’m not pretending to understand. I’m left to deal with the fallout. Donna’s clipped response was defensive, but Penny was having none of it.

No, Donna, I am.

And I can’t thank you enough. I’m sure Shade will be grateful, too.

I’m sure he won’t. Is Shade what we’re to call him? Penny couldn’t help but groan inside. With a name like that, he was going to be in for some hassle with her lot. As if he didn’t have enough to make him a target.

Given the alternative, I think so, yes. Now it was Donna’s turn to sound incredulous.

I’m not too sure about that either. He hasn’t been Shade for a long time.

I’m glad you understand.

Not enough. Not nearly enough.

As soon as she put the phone down, Penny called for her assistant. Within moments Richard appeared in the doorway.

You called, Milady.

Can you have the staff make up a bed? We’ve got a new inmate.

Tut, tut. You know the lingo. We don’t have inmates, we have residents, just like all the other children’s homes who have trips and outings and sing songs in the evenings.

Whatever. Penny smiled at her assistant. Richard grinned back, his blue eyes twinkling, crinkling in the corners. With his bright red hair and rough beard, he looked boyish and playful, but he was her rock.

So how come we’re getting a new one on such short notice? What’s he done?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Excuse me?

Penny sighed and tapped the folder absently. She opened it again and stared at the photograph.

He looks like an angel, Richard said, glancing over her shoulder. Can I take it his looks are deceptive?

Not as far as I know.

Richard looked down at her with a frown. Are you seriously telling me they’re sending a nice kid here? Here?

That’s what I’m telling you, yes.

What’s his story?

It’s complicated and not pretty.

I’ll get Betty to sort out the room, and another place at the table, then I’ll make some coffee, and you can horrify me with the details.

Don’t joke, Richard. I might well do with this one.

Richard frowned and raised his eyebrows, then disappeared, leaving Penny still staring at the photograph.

The boy looked younger than sixteen. He was staring past the camera, his eyes vacant but haunted. Raven black hair hung in waves to his shoulders, and although he was very pale, his skin had a tone that might be swarthy, if it had seen some sunlight. This, with his general features, made her wonder if he had Spanish ancestry. It must have been way back, though, because his eyes were light—a very striking honey colour. She knew he’d seen precious little sunshine in the last nine years, and it showed. He looked ill and very sad.

Despite the vacant expression in his eyes, there was something about him that made Penny think that, in other circumstances, he could have been a bright boy, doing well at school, with friends and family—a future. Five minutes’ inattention had stolen it all and left behind... something.

Hey, Pen.

She glanced up and smiled. There were seven children in residence at the moment—eight, with Shade. Their full capacity was ten. Ages ranged from eleven to sixteen, and they were all troubled children. Some had behavioural problems, some mental health issues. All of them had been expelled from mainstream schools and had been in trouble for years. Some of them were evil little buggers, but this one, Dorien, was as good as they got.

Hi, Dory. What can I do for you?

Rich says we’ve got a new inmate.

Resident, Dory. Not inmate.

The boy shrugged. It’s a prison, isn’t it?

No, it’s a residential children’s home and a school.

So, I can leave, then? Take the bus home? Oops, forgot, I don’t have a home. Dorien’s comment made Penny wince.

Yes, you do. This is it.

Dorien gave her his big innocent smile. In many ways, Dorien was an engaging child, well, not really a child anymore. At almost seventeen, he was the oldest. Generally, he was sweet, helpful, and bright. However, he had mental health issues, and sometimes he exploded in outbursts of uncontrollable anger when he would strike out at anyone or anything near to hand. Having injured a child and teacher at his last school, he’d narrowly missed a prison sentence and had been sent here. Lucky boy.

On a good day, Dorien brought the place to life. On a bad day, there were sedatives ready in syringes in the locked fridge. Fortunately, bad days were happening less and less often, but still enough to make Dorien dangerous. They were all hopeful, though, that the new medication his doctors were trying would stabilise him permanently. They’d thought that before, too.

If you want to be useful, go help Betty get a room ready.

Which room?

The one next to yours.

Oh shit. Is he that bad?

You know we don’t talk about that, Dory. If he wants to tell you his story, he will.

How old is he?

Sixteen.

Woohoo, I finally get someone my own age to make friends with. The kids are okay but... well, no, they’re not. They’re a load of shits. I hope this one won’t be.

On a sudden impulse, Penny said, Come here a minute, Dory. I want to show you something.

Ooh, er, Missus, Dorien teased, waggling his eyebrows.

I’m serious, Dory. I want you to help with the new boy.

Awesome. You know me, always ready to help.

Sure. Here. She picked up the photograph and handed it to Dory. He gave a low whistle and frowned.

Looking up, he met Penny’s eyes. Are you sure? I can’t promise he’ll be safe.

Safe?

He’s very pretty. The others are all going to want a piece of him, one way or another.

That’s what bothers me. The thing is... this one will probably let them, and that bothers me a lot.

Dorien’s eyes widened. Let them?

He’s very vulnerable, Dory, and I can’t watch him every minute. He needs a champion.

"Me? You want me to be a champion? He shook his head. I can’t do that. I can’t be trusted."

There was an expression close to panic in his eyes, and it hurt Penny to see.

I’m not giving you any responsibility, Dory, don’t worry. I just want you to be my eyes when I’m not there. You don’t have to fight for him, you just have to let me know if there’s trouble.

Why can’t he?

Penny sighed. There was an absolute rule that histories weren’t shared by staff. If the child wanted to talk about their past so be it, but no one else would. On the other hand, Dory would find out soon enough, and by then it could be too late.

I don’t think he can, Dory. He doesn’t talk very much and he’s not... He’s on quite a lot of medication, more than you, and he’s been, well, away from the world for a long time. He can’t read or write very well, and he has no idea about things like television shows, computers, or up-to-date technology.

Oh shit, Dorien said, and Penny saw the calculation in his eyes, running through the trouble the boy was going to get into and with whom. Why is someone like that coming here? They’re going to tear him apart.

I think he can hold his own in a fight if he wants to.

But he doesn’t want to?

Something like that. So, will you do it? Will you keep an eye on him for me?

Dorien shrugged. Sure, if you won’t hold me responsible when they fuck him over.

Watch your language, Dorien.

"What? Everyone says fuck."

It had taken years of experience to keep a neutral expression in the face of Dorien’s outrage. Not when I can hear it.

With one of his mercurial mood shifts, Dorien shrugged again. Whatever. Do we get something nice for dinner, just as a welcome, you know?

You always have nice dinners.

Meh.

I’ll see what I can do.

Dorien treated her to another of his bright smiles, which lit up his lively blue eyes. With his messy blond locks, he looked like an angel but certainly didn’t act like one. She tried very hard not to have favourites amongst the children, but it was impossible not to like Dorien. Although she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Penny had always had a soft spot for him, and it hurt her when he had an episode.

Hey, you. Richard ruffled Dorien’s hair as he passed. What trouble are you getting into now?

None, Dorien scoffed. I’m gonna be a champion. A champion-in-training, at least."

Oh really? There you go, then.

Dorien grinned at him and scampered off.

I may have made a huge mistake, Penny said, staring after him and suddenly realising how much he’d grown lately.

In what way?

I asked Dory to keep an eye on the new boy.

And how is that a mistake?

Let’s hope it isn’t.

So, Richard asked, sitting down, what’s the story with the new boy?

Penny sighed, suddenly feeling old. It’s a tricky one.

Okay, well let’s start with something simple, like his name.

What makes you think that’s simple?

Richard raised his eyebrows. Isn’t it?

Which name do you want?

How many does he have?

Penny unconsciously stroked the folder of notes. Two. The one he was given and the one he answers to.

So, the one he was given?

Shade.

Richard’s eyebrows headed for his hairline, and Penny knew he was, as both she and Dorien had, going through all the ways the kids would find to torture him. Well, that’s going to go down like a lead brick. Scanning her eyes, he said timidly, I have a feeling I’m not going to like this, but go ahead. The one he answers to?

Penny paused. Her eyes flicked down to the file, then raised to meet Richard’s. Slave, she said.

Richard’s eyes widened. Oh shit.

Absolutely.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Penny pretended to read the folder, not actually seeing the words, while Richard pinched his lip and frowned.

Okay, what’s his story? The short version, please.

Short version? Let’s see. He disappeared from a shopping centre nine years ago, when he was seven. Six months back, police investigating a paedophile ring found him in a cellar. It looked like he’d been there for a very long time, being used by the man who snatched him, and anyone else the guy pleased.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

It didn’t take his family long to realise he wasn’t the boy who left, and they didn’t like the one that came back. He was well trained and responds instantly to orders, although he has trouble processing requests. He can’t handle kindness and he... Put it this way, when he tried to show his stepfather gratitude, he ended up in casualty. Shortly after, his parents dropped off two suitcases bearing everything he owns.

Double sweet Jesus. What’s he doing here? Why isn’t he in Hillcrest, or—

Penny continued before Richards could finish his thought. Before he had the chance to leave the hospital, after the beating his stepfather gave him, he got hold of a scalpel and opened his wrists. If he’d been anywhere but the hospital he’d have bled to death.

Oh God, no.

Oh, it gets worse.

Richard leaned forward, on the edge of his seat. Worse?

He was transferred to the psych ward, and for the first three days was restrained and drugged senseless. Three hours after they released the straps they found him in the bathroom, bleeding out. He’d torn out the stitches with his teeth.

He was serious about it then.

Oh, yes. After the second attempt, he was transferred to a secure unit in a psychiatric hospital and given one drug after another until they found one that at least stopped him actively trying to kill himself every time they took their eyes off him. He won’t talk, so therapy’s next to useless, although he’s still to see a shrink daily, at least for a couple of weeks. He’s stable, so the hospital wants to be rid of him, and no one else will take him. He needs careful watching, and we’re the only ones prepared to take him.

Richard leaned back. Are we prepared to take him?

No, but what could I do? I’ve given social services three months to find him another placement.

Three months is a long time, Pen, especially amongst this lot.

God, don’t I know it. She shook her head. One of my main worries is that he’s incredibly vulnerable. He barely speaks, can’t really read or write, has had no experience of technology, and is completely out of his depth in any kind of social situation.

He’ll have fun here then, Richard stated, sarcastically.

That’s not even my biggest concern, neither is the fact he needs direction for everything. What really worries me is that he’s sexually promiscuous. Understandable from his experiences over the last nine years. He has no sexual boundaries at all with men. He doesn’t show any interest in women.

And you’ve given him to Dory? Richard’s eyes popped wide.

"I haven’t given him to Dory. I’ve asked Dory to keep an eye on him."

Knowing Dory, he’ll keep more than an eye on him.

No. Dory’s a sucker for the helpless. He won’t take advantage, and he won’t let anyone else do it either.

Are you sure?

No, but we don’t have much choice. Penny shuffled together the papers she’d unconsciously spread over her desk and slid them back into the folder. She held up the photograph again for a moment. The haunted eyes caught and held her.

Poor kid.

Penny saw the same concern in Richard’s eye that she felt deep in her gut. My thoughts exactly.

Chapter Two

Dorien hovered around the door, waiting for the car. He’d raced off to Betty and told her she had to arrange something nice for dinner. He’d considered helping her make up the bed as instructed, but if he’d done that he might have missed the arrival. Since seeing the photograph, his mind was full of the beautiful boy with weird eyes. He wanted to touch him, but wouldn’t because Penny said he was vulnerable, and he looked so sad. Dorien wasn’t about hurting people or making them do things they didn’t want to do, although Penny said maybe the boy would want to. No, he mustn’t think like that. He was trying really hard to be more responsible and grown up, and that meant not giving in to his emotions when he knew they were inappropriate.

It had been over three months since the anger had taken him—although it was always there, lurking. Laziness was one thing he was always fighting with, and it didn’t really matter if he gave into it sometimes, just not all the time. Lust was a tricky one. He was turned on by just about anything. He’d spoken to Richard about it, and he’d said it was natural for someone Dory’s age, so he didn’t worry about it. Sadness hadn’t been around much at all recently, though neither had happiness, not really, and excited was kind of muted these days. He knew it was the medication and didn’t really mind. He hated being tied down, and it was worth the constant fuzzy feeling to avoid that. Not that he didn’t feel anything. In fact, right now, he was excited.

The appearance of the car had him almost bouncing up and down. There was a fluttery feeling in his stomach, and his heart was beating fast. Generally, that wasn’t good, and Dr. Blake always told him he should walk away from situations that made him feel like this. He didn’t agree with Dr. Blake because he liked the excited fluttering. It made him clearer, but he usually followed instructions, because he was a good boy, and because sometimes they were right.

I thought you were supposed to be helping Betty. In the past, Richard would have ruffled his hair at this point, but he was almost as big as Richard now, so it wasn’t so easy. Dorien grinned at him.

Seeing as I’m going to be his champion, I thought it was only right I should be here to meet him.

Are you sure? You know what Dr. Blake said about getting over-excited.

"I’m not over-excited." Dorien rolled his eyes, and Richard laughed.

Well, okay, but once you’ve said hello, you’re to go straight to the common room, all right? Penny’s going to want to talk to him in private.

Don’t worry, I know the routine.

Richard shook his head, and against the odds, ruffled his hair.

Get off. I’m not a kid anymore.

You are to me.

Everyone is to you, Richard, you’re ancient.

Before Richard could reply, the car had pulled up, and a social worker Dorien knew and didn’t like walked around it.

Special delivery, she said with a smile to Richard. "Good afternoon, Dorien. Behaving yourself,