Saving An Angel
By Jason Finigan

This story is completely fictional. Any similarities to any persons or events, past or present are purely coincidental. This story may contain scenes which involve sexual situations between young males. If this type of material is offensive to you, or it is not legal for you to be reading this type of material, please do not read any further. This story is copyright © 2007 by Jason. Please do not copy this story for distribution or post on any online server without the author's permission. Please send all your comments to: greywolf_0173@hotmail.com, or jasonfinigan@yahoo.com You can also visit my site at: jasonfinigan.bravehost.com. Thanks and enjoy the story.


Chapter 2

Waking up; at first I didn't know where I was, or how I got there. I was alone in a bedroom, on a fairly large bed, much larger than the beds I was used to sleeping in. Actually, it reminded me a bit of my mom's bed, only, her bed had white pillows and a nice, light colored comforter. Her room always smelled of vanilla, the same scent as the incense sticks she used to burn all the time. The room I found myself in was a little darker. That might have been because the window blinds were closed, but from what I saw, the room itself was a light tan color with several paintings on the walls featuring old sailing ships, much like the ships that were in pirate movies. Beside the bed was a small table where a lamp and an alarm clock sat. The clock read nine-fifty in the morning, so I knew that I had slept for a long time.

Throwing the covers off of me, and swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I noticed that I was only wearing a long t-shirt. I began to panic as I began to look for my clothes, but they were no where to be found.

The bed stood high off the ground and I jumped off it and ran to the closed door and opened it. In the hallway, I literally ran into Ryan, and fell back onto my bum.

"Whoa there, Bud!" he said, helping me up from the floor.

"Where's my clothes?" I asked him. I guess he could tell that I was a little scared.

"I'm sorry. I took them and put them in the wash. I was hoping they would have been done by the time you woke up. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Oh," I said, instantly relieved. "Umm, how did I end up in the bed?"

"I carried you there shortly after you fell asleep during the movie. You definitely needed some rest, so I stripped you down, gave you one of my t-shirts, and tucked you into my bed," he said, laughing lightly.

"But where did you sleep?" I asked him.

"On the couch," he replied simply.

At that moment my stomach announced that it was empty with a low rumble. "I'm hungry," I told him unnecessarily. "But I need to go to the bathroom."

"You go right ahead, the bathroom's just over there," he said, pointing down the hall. "While you're doing that, I have breakfast almost ready. I'm making bacon and eggs, fried potatoes, and toast."

"Do you have raspberry jam? I love jam on my toast."

"Yes I have jam," he said, laughing again. "Now scoot, go take care of your business and meet me in the kitchen when you're done. Make sure you wash your hands though," he told me, lightly swatting my bum. I took off down the hall towards the bathroom giggling.

Finishing in the bathroom, I walked into the kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs cooking in a frying pan assaulting my nose with their pleasant aroma. This of course caused my stomach to growl again. I don't know whether it was my stomach, or if he just turned at the right moment, but he saw he standing there, admiring the smells, and smiled at me.

"Well, hop into the chair, Kyle. Breakfast's almost done. There's some orange juice on the table, and you can help yourself," he said, turning back to the food cooking on the stove.

I went to the table and sat down on the same chair I had the last time. An empty glass was in front of me, as was an empty plate, and a fork, and a knife. In the middle of the table were the orange juice container, and a jar of raspberry jam. Picking up the orange juice, I opened it, and carefully poured some into my glass, almost filling it to the rim.

Placing the juice container back onto the table, I picked up my glass and drank some of the juice. Of all the juices that my mom had ever given me, orange juice was my favorite. I think Ryan noticed this because I saw him standing there smiling at me.

"I see you really like orange juice," he said.

"Oh yeah, I do!" I said, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth.

"Use the napkin beside you for that Kyle," he told me.

"Oh, sorry," I said apologetically, looking down at the empty plate.

"Hey, don't be sorry. You're not used to sitting at a table. You'll get the hang of things eventually."

"What's going to happen to me?" I asked.

"Kyle, I don't know."

"Can't I stay with you?" I asked him, my eyes starting to get wet with tears as the fear of having to go back to the group home threatened to overwhelm me.

"Kyle, I don't know if you can. I'm sure there's someone looking for you right now," he said.

"Just the group home, but I'm not going there, you can't make me," I said defiantly.

"Whoa, calm down there, Kyle. I'm not going to make you go anywhere. Is that where you were living before I found you? In a group home?"

"Yeah," I answered. "But I'm not going back there, I hate it there. I want it to be like it used to be with my mom."

"Where is your mom?" he asked me, kneeling down beside me.

"She's dead," I told him, no longer able to hold back the tears as the fell from my eyes.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Kyle," he said, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. After a while he let me go, but he stayed with me. "You have anyone else that can look after you?" I shook my head.

Ryan was silent for what seemed to be forever. "Kyle, I don't know if it's possible, but if it is, would you want to live with me?" As soon as he asked me that, my head jerked up to look at him and a smile was plastered on my face that I swear could have lit up the city. "You mean that?" I asked him hopefully. "You would let me stay with you? But what if they come looking for me?"

"Kyle, in the short time you've been here, I've grown very fond of you. If I could, I would adopt you and raise you as my son. I just don't know if that's possible."

"What do you mean?" I asked him quizzically.

"Well, if you're going to be staying with me, there is something you have to know about me, and it might change your mind."

"Why? You're nice to me, not like those others in the group home, especially not..."

"Not who?" he asked me.

"Never mind, it's not important. I just want to stay with you," I pleaded with him.

"Okay, you know how a guy falls in love with a girl and they get married and start a family?"

"Yes."

"There are some guys that only fall in love with other guys," he told me.

"You mean, you fall in love with guys?" I asked him.

"Yes I do. I wanted you to know, because if we were to live together, I wouldn't want to hide anything."

"Are you falling in love with me?" I asked him, both curious and afraid. After what Gary did, I didn't want to have to go through that again.

"No, I'm not falling in love with you Kyle. Understand that I do love you, but I love you as a father would love his son. I want to raise you and see you grow up to be the person you want to be." I had never had a dad, and if I did, I would want it to be Ryan. Tears were once more rolling down my face, but this time they were happy tears.

"I love you so much, Dad," I said, and jumped off the chair to give him a hug. When I pulled away finally, I saw that he had tears in his eyes.

"I never thought in my life I would have a son, but if I did, I wish he would be just like you. I promise you, Kyle, I'll do everything I can to try and adopt you, and then I can legally be your dad."

We hugged again, both of us smiling. If it wasn't for my stomach once again growling, I think we would have stayed like that forever. We let each other go and I sat back down on the chair. Ryan had turned off the stove, so the food didn't burn while we were talking. He turned the stove back on to make sure the food was still hot, and put some bread into the toaster.

"All right," he said taking the frying pan off the stove and walking to the table towards me. "Here you go, I hope you like it."

I don't think there was any doubt at all whether I liked the food Ryan served me. The second he finished putting the eggs, and bacon, and fried potatoes on my plate, I picked up the bottle of ketchup that was on the table and squirted some onto my plate. Then I started to devour everything that was on my plate, occasionally coating each bite in the ketchup. As I was eating, Ryan had finished making the toast, put them on a plate, and placed it on the table in front of me.

"I think I'm going to change your name," he laughed.

"What do you mean?" I asked him after I finished swallowing the bite I had taken.

"Your name should be Hoover, not Kyle," and both of us laughed at that comment.

"Hey, I was hungry!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, so no more room for toast then?" he asked mischievously.

"Oh yeah, I love toast!" I said.

For the next half hour Ryan and I ate breakfast together. He told me that he normally didn't cook, but with me here, that'd probably be changing. In fact, he told me a great number of things, only some of which I understood.

"Well Kyle, I think the first thing that needs to be done is to contact the CAS."

"NO!" I yelled. "They'll put me back in that group home and I won't go there!"

"Kyle, can you tell me what happened? If you do, I'll be better able to prevent that from happening, but it's up to you."

"I don't know if I should, you'd hate me, and wouldn't want me to stay any more," I said, refusing to look at him. I couldn't look at him. With what happened, no one would want to be around me. If I told him, I figured he'd be so disgusted, that he'd send me away, just like everyone else has.

"Son," he said softly. "I promise you, there's nothing you could tell me that would ever make me want you to leave. It's up to you if you want to tell me or not, but trust me when I tell you, it will never affect how I feel about you."

I did trust Ryan, but at the same time I was also afraid. I loved him so much and I couldn't bear the thought of losing him too. At the same time, I knew I had to tell someone, that if I didn't, Gary would just do what he did to me to someone else. In the end, I knew I had to tell Ryan.

"Okay, I'll tell you. The last day I was at the group home, I was about to go outside to play with my friend, Greg. I was just in the bathroom washing my hands when a few other boys came in."

"Did you know these boys?" he asked me.

"Yeah. I knew one of them, it was Gary. He came to the group home only a short time ago. I didn't like him, and neither did most of the boys that were on my floor."

"How many floors were there, Kyle?"

"Well, I don't know, but all the boys on my floor were about my age. The ones on the floor below me were no older than about five I guess. Most of the older boys were upstairs."

"So the group home was only for boys then? No girls?"

"Yeah, at least no girls that were kids like me. There was a woman who ran the place. I didn't like her much. She acted as if she never had time for us, always telling us to see our floor monitor."

"So there was an adult who looked after the boys on each floor then?"

"Yeah, I guess so. At least there was on my floor. His name was Mr. Jacobs. He was an older guy, but most of the boys on my floor got along with him well. He always made time to talk to us and make sure we were okay."

"Now, when you said, older, how old do you think?" he asked me.

"I don't know," I said shrugging my shoulders. "Older than fifty at least. He had gray hair and was slightly bald."

"Okay, so let's get back to what happened that made you leave the group home. Gary and his friends came into the bathroom where you were washing your hands."

"Yeah, he came in and saw me, and he had this weird smile on his face, it made me kinda scared."

"Did he hurt you in any way?" This is the part where I knew Ryan would hate me. I hated myself for letting it happen, but I was too weak to stop Gary.

"His friends grabbed me and he undid his pants and took out his thing. It was all big and hairy."

"God no!" Ryan exclaimed, causing me to shrink back from him a bit. "I know this is going to be difficult Kyle. I have a fair idea of what he did, and I want you to know that I don't think any differently about you. Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."

"It was though!" I cried. "I should have been able to stop him, or something. He put his thing in my mouth. He told me if I bit it he would kill me. I was so scared!" I just sat there crying as I felt Ryan's arms wrap around me and pull me into a hug.

"I know you were, Son, but it's okay. We'll fix this together. I promise you, you'll never have to go back there again. I'm going to look after you from now on. I love you, Son," he told me. "There's more though, isn't there?"

"Yeah, there is," I said, wiping the tears off my face with my hand. "He had his friends take off my pants and underwear and they forced me onto my hands and knees. I was scared, and didn't know what he was going to do to me. Then he put something into my bum and it hurt so much. I thought he was tearing me apart inside!" Looking up at Ryan's face, I saw that he was flushed, and he looked really angry. Thinking that he was mad at me, I tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let me go.

"That son of a bitch!" Ryan exclaimed. "Kyle, Son. I want you to listen to me really carefully okay?"

"Okay," I said softly, nodding my head, and still frightened that he was mad at me.

"It wasn't your fault. You could have done nothing to prevent what happened there. You're only ten years old, and they were older than you, and there were more of them. Please try and accept that it wasn't your fault."

"But I should have been able to do something. If I hadn't been in the bathroom..."

"You would have what? Peed your pants? You can't predict the future, Son. Sometimes things happen, and I hate to admit, more often than not, they happen to innocent people like you, but I promise you this. I'm going to help you with this, and you won't ever have to go back to that place ever again. Whatever it takes, you're going to live with me from now on. Now, I'm going to make a phone call."

"Who are you going to call?" I asked him.

"The C.A.S.," he replied.

"They were the ones that put me in the group home," I told him.

"Yes, they would have. Kyle, I know this is going to be hard, but do you think you can remember the name of the case worker who put you in the home?"

"Yeah, I can. I don't think I'll ever forget his name. His name was Tom. I don't know his last name though."

"That's okay, Son," he told me and walked over to the phone that was hanging on the wall, picked up the receiver, and dialed a number.

"Yes, my name is Ryan Chambers... Yes, I'll hold," Ryan looked at me and smiled. "Yes I'm still here. I need to speak to a case worker by the name of Tom. I don not have a last name... Hello Mr Garreth? Yes, my name is Ryan Chambers, I have found myself in a situation that you might be aware of and I need you at my home in a couple hours... Yes, I'm on 4215 Lakeshore Road West... Yes sir, in Burlington... No, I can't say more, not until you get here... Thank you, I'll be here," Ryan finished, and hung up the receiver.

"You talked to Tom?" I asked.

"Yes, and his last name is Garreth. Make sure you refer to him as Mr. Garreth when he gets here. I'm certain that he will want to talk to you as well."

"Okay," I said. "Is he going to make me leave?"

"No, I'm not going to let him take you back. Now, he's going to be here in a couple hours. We need to get you some proper clothes. Those clothes you had are just too worn out. You will have to wear them to the store, but once you get new clothes, we can toss your old ones out."

"You're going to buy me new clothes?" I asked him excitedly.

"Yep, I am, unless you want to go around wearing those old clothes all the time."

"No way!" I exclaimed. "I love you, Dad!"

"I love you too, Son," he said. "Now, let's get to the dryer so you can get dressed."

The washing and machine and dryer were in the basement. Actually they looked somewhat similar to the ones my mom used to have. Ryan approached the dryer, reached in and grabbed my clothes. They were still very warm, but they were dry.

"Okay Son, you go over there to the bathroom, and I'll wait here while you get dressed," he said pointing to the small bathroom that was across the laundry area.

"Okay Dad," I said, taking my clothes from his hands, going into the bathroom and closing the door. It only took me a few minutes to put them back on, and when I came out, Ryan was standing there by the washing machine.

"All set to go, Bud?" he asked me.

"Yeah, Dad," I replied. He headed back up the stairs and I followed him. Before we went to the back door where our shoes were, he went into the kitchen grabbed his wallet that was on the counter, and his keys which he had put on a key rack.

"Okay, let's grab our shoes and put them on at the front door," he said. I picked up my shoes and followed him to the front door. Putting down his shoes, he began to put them on his feet, and I did the same with mine. One last glance at each other, we smiled, and he opened the door, letting me leave first. He closed the door behind us and locked it up.

The front of his house was just as impressive as the back. It had a double garage with a fairly large driveway. In the center, between the two garage doors, was a basketball hoop. I loved playing basketball and I hoped that he and I would get a chance to play some basketball soon. His front lawn was immaculately cut, and looked very healthy. In the driveway, he had a rather sleek looking car. It was much different from the cars I normally see.

"What kind of car is that?" I asked him.

"That's an electric car," he replied, opening the driver's side door.

"Oh wow. You mean you don't need to use gas?"

"Nope, the car runs entirely on batteries which power a big electric motor."

"Cool!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, I think it is," he chuckled.

Walking around to the other side, I opened up the front passenger side door, and climbed inside.

"Make sure you buckle up, Son," he told me, which I did, pulling the seatbelt over my chest and down to the clip beside my hip.

The car silently rolled down the driveway, passed the open gate at the entrance, and merged into the traffic.

"Where're we going?" I asked Ryan.

"Well, we don't have much time before Mr. Garreth gets here, so I thought we'd just go to Zellers to pick up something simple. Later on, we can go to Sears to get some more decent clothes."

"Cool, my mom used to get all my clothes at Zellers anyway," I told him.

"Well, I usually don't like to dress in clothes that are fancy, but I prefer to get something with a little bit more quality. Your mother did well with what she had. You should be proud of her," he said.

"I am. I loved her."

The rest of the drive to Zellers was spent in silence. When we finally arrived, we got out of the car and Ryan activated the alarm system.

"Do you want to visit the place where they buried your mom some day?" he asked me as we were walking towards the plaza.

"Yeah, I do, can we go today?" I asked hopefully.

"I don't see why not, I'll find out from him where she was buried. He should know if he's the worker who handled your case."

"Thanks, Dad," I said.

"Don't mention it. Now, let's get in here and find some clothes for you."

We must have spent an hour going through the whole Kids clothing section. Both of us had fun trying to out do the other in picking out really outlandish styles. In the end, I ended up with about five pairs of pants, five shorts, lots of socks and underwear, and a good selection of shirts and sweaters. Not that I'd be wearing sweaters any time soon. Ryan also picked up for me several different bathing suits for when we go swimming.

When we brought everything to the front counter, and the clerk was scanning all the clothes, I kept looking at the amount as it was added up, and my eyes almost left their sockets when they saw the final price. In total, Ryan spent close to a thousand dollars just on me. I looked up at him, my mouth wide open.

"But, Dad, that's too much!" I said.

"Nonsense, Son, you needed new clothes, so that's what you're getting. I'm not trying to spoil you, but what you have now will not do, and you needed to get some new clothes, especially for when school starts."

"Okay Dad, I'm just not used to someone spending this much on me," I told him honestly.

"I know ,Son, but don't worry about it, I'm not going broke yet," he laughed. I shrugged my shoulders, and watched as the clerk continued to put the clothes into plastic bags. When he was done, I started to grab as many as I could carry, Ryan took the rest, and we left the store.

"We'd better hurry, Son," he said looking at his watch." Mr. Garreth will be at the house in half an hour and I want us to get everything settled, and all this stuff packed away in the spare bedroom."

"There's a spare bedroom?" I asked him.

"Yes there is."

"But why did you put me in your bed yesterday?"

"Because nothing was made in the spare bedroom. I have to put the bed together and the rest of the furniture. They're all from Ikea, so everything needs to be assembled. I just never bothered to put anything together as I haven't had many guests over," he replied.

"Oh."

We climbed back into the car, and headed back to Ryan's house. Our house I should say, for if I am going to be adopted by Ryan, and be his son, it's going to be my home too.

The drive back was as uneventful as the drive to the mall. When we got to the home, it was a different story all together. In the driveway sat two cars, an unmarked police cruiser, and an older model car that looked like it had seen better days. Ryan parked the car behind the beat up car, and got out. Standing at the doorway to the home, were two men in business suits, one of whom I recognized right away as being Tom.

Ryan was not happy at all, I could tell, and he did little to hide that fact from the two people that were now walking towards him.

"Mr. Adams?" the man I recognized as Tom inquired, offering his hand.

"Yes, I'm Ryan Adams," Ryan answered, pointedly ignoring the outstretched hand. "Would you mind telling me who you are and what you are doing on my property?" he asked.

"You invited me," the man answered, lowering his hand to his side.

"I did, did I? And who might you be?"

"I'm Tom Garreth. I'm with the CAS. You contacted me earlier," he answered.

"Yes, I did. However I seem to recall that I had asked you to be here at one in the afternoon, which you agreed to. It's just a little past noon now. Would you mind explaining why you are here now, and why there is an officer here with you?"

"Sir, when you called me, I had a feeling that it might have something to do with Kyle here," he said looking at me. "Hello Kyle, how are you doing?"

"Fine," I replied, hugging closer to Ryan.

"As you can well see, it does have something to do with Kyle here, but you were going to find that out at one, so what made it necessary for you to be here now, and for that matter, what reason do you have for bringing the police to my house?" Tom was obviously not accustomed to someone challenging him in this manner, as he looked a little flustered.

"Very well, first of all, Kyle here is a run-away, and his guardians are worried about him, and second of all there was a disturbance at the group home which Kyle may have been involved with, and that is why the officer is here. Now, shall we take this inside?"

"By all means, let's," Ryan said, leading everyone to the house, with me holding onto his hand, and refusing to let go, even when Tom tried to get my attention.

Once inside, Ryan had the officer and Tom sit in the living room. I went to put my clothes into the spare bedroom. When I returned to the living room, Ryan was serving coffee to the officer and Tom. I sat down on the couch across from Tom, feeling uncomfortable because Tom kept looking at me. Once Ryan had finished pouring himself a cup, he went back into the kitchen and came back with a can of coke for me, which I accepted gladly.

"Well, now that we're all sitting here, I'm going to tell you what we're going to do," Tom started.

"Hold up one minute there," Ryan said, raising his hand to stop Tom from saying more. "I think first of all what you need to do is state your position with regards to Kyle's current status. He has indicated to me that he ran away from the group home, and I think for good reason, and he refuses to go back there, which I don't blame him for in the least."

"The situation at the group home has been resolved, and as the home is listed as Kyle's legal guardians, he has to go back," Tom said.

"Unacceptable," Ryan stated flatly.

"Excuse me?" Tom queried, perplexed by Ryan's refusal.

"You heard me. If Kyle here does not wish to return to that group home, then it would be in his best interest to find an alternative accommodation for him. You are here to do what is in his best interest are you not?" Ryan asked Tom.

"Well, yes, of course. But we have dealt with the reason he ran away in the first place."

"Is that a fact?" Ryan asked. "And what exactly do you know of the reason Kyle ran away?"

"I think I can shed some light on this matter," the officer said. "My name is Constable Ian Cohen. I was contacted by the group home when it was found that Kyle was discovered to be missing. Apparently it seems that some of the older boys had last seen Kyle packing up some of his things, and trying to sneak out of the building. After questioning some of the other children who resided on the same floor as Kyle, we determined that these same older boys had been responsible for bullying a number of the younger boys pretty much since the time they had arrived. One of the younger boys pointed to a boy named Gary as being the leader, if you will, of these bullies.

"Since we were unable to determine any illegal activity on the part of Gary or any of his friends, aside from picking on the younger boys, we decided to leave it in the hands of the group home's administration as to what to do about Gary and his friends. From what I understand, Gary and his friends have received a month of strict curfew, and they are being monitor closely by the staff. Now, since Kyle has been found, we would like to know more about what happened that caused him to leave the group home, and if he was being picked on, why he didn't think he could go to the staff."

"I see," Ryan said. "Seems to me that both the group home's administration, and the CAS have really dropped the ball on this one, and the fact that your own investigation produced so little results is a testament to the lack of responsibility that the CAS and the group home have demonstrated with regards to the children living at that home."

"Now wait one damn minute!" Tom almost shouted, standing up from his seat.

"Excuse me, there is a child in this room, and I am telling you to watch your language around him," Ryan ordered Tom. Tom glared at Ryan for a second before sitting back down.

"You're right. I apologize for my use of language."

"In the one day that I have known Kyle, I have found him to be a very intelligent and honest person. He has told me what happened in that group home the day he left, and I am in full agreement with his decision to leave it, even though I wish he hadn't and would have been able to go to the staff for help. But, the fact is, that he didn't and chose to leave the home for his own protection. To me, that speaks very highly of his ability to take care of himself," Ryan stated.

His little speech made me blush with pride, and I was smiling. I knew that Ryan loved me, but no one besides my mom had thought so highly of me. I liked it a lot.

"And what then do you suggest?" Tom inquired.

"Quite simply, if Kyle refuses to return to the group home, which I know he will, then I am prepared to start the process of adopting Kyle, and raising him myself," Ryan said.



In response to my editor's comments regarding the last chapter of Saving An Angel, I have opted to re-write it, and the above is the result. It is my hope that you enjoy this new version of chapter 1. Keep on sending me those comments. You can reach me at: greywolf_0173@hotmail.com or jasonfinigan@yahoo.com