TABOO: THE COMPLETE SERIES(8)

“Mr. Ross, did you read the contract?”

I realized he must not have gone through the documents like he said he did. I made him sign them last night and told Benner it meant I had custody of his son. The man was a professional drunk, and the few brain cells he still had remaining were being utilized in useless scheming. What people like that were doing with children of their own, was something I’d never understand. “Mr. Ross, your son will be with us… indefinitely.”

His face fell. Was that concern for his son? There was no way that’s what the man felt. It was probably something to do with the money aspect, I was sure of it. “Indefinitely?”

“As mentioned in the contract which I suggest you read,” I said. “You will be compensated. Think of us as your allies, Mr. Ross. If your boy is with us, your family is insured. You need anything, I mean anything, talk to Stoll and he will help you out, rest assured.”

It didn’t take a lot to convince him apparently. There was no reason for a man like that to worry. It was as I thought—the concern was for his own shit, not for the boy. Concerned fathers don’t sell their sons to the highest bidder. I had a half a mind to remind him of that, but it would be useless and a waste of breath, explaining the logistics of family and compassion to a man like him. Those words were for people who gave a shit about boys they gave birth to and didn’t just abandon them. People who didn’t use their children as an ATM. But the implications of love and loyalty were lost on people like Benner Ross.

He should have left, I was waiting for it but something kept him standing there without a word. He must have known I don’t do a lot of talking, so what was keeping him here? My patience was wearing thin.

“What is it, Mr. Ross?”

“Why can’t I see your face?”

I almost laughed.

“Is that actual concern I hear in your voice, Mr. Ross?”

He didn’t speak.

I wasn’t expecting him to. “Are you showing concern because you think you have to,” I said. “Or because you’re concerned?”

“I know you must think I’m an awful person…”

“You are.”

He clearly wasn’t expecting that. The clarification bothered him. “He’s my son.”

“I’m aware of that,” I replied. “Just as you were, when you were signing him off to me.”

He was too embarrassed to say anything. Good. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Ross?”

“Thank you, sir.” He said and left the room.

On the screen, I saw Jake stir in his sleep. That beautiful boy didn’t belong in a place like that, with a father who didn’t deserve him. No. He deserved to be with someone who doted on him, who appreciated every single breath he took. Jake belonged with me, even though he didn’t understand that right now.

But I have all the time in the world to make him see.

And I want him all to myself.

I don’t care what comes between us.

Jake will be mine.





JAKE


When I heard someone calling out my name, it was impossible to tell if the voice was in my head or part of some nightmare, or something that happened in the real, tangible world. But then I heard it again, a low sound, almost a whisper. Someone was shaking me, not that gently. It felt awful because I badly wanted to go back to sleep. “Jake!”

I blinked to find myself in a world I didn’t recognize. The man was familiar but I didn’t know why because I couldn’t remember his name or who he was. My mind was drawing a blank and it scared me. “You need to wake up, Jake.”

Without getting an answer from me, the man started to untie my wrist closest to him, but he was struggling with it. “Come on Jake, we have to get out of here.”

The haze on my memory lifted long enough for me to remember. “Dad?”

My father finished untying my hands, and spoke in a low voice. “We’re getting you out of this place. You’re going to be okay.”

“Dad… what about Colton?”

“We’ll take Colton and buy bus tickets to wherever we want, I have enough money for all three of us.” Can you believe that was as close to an apology as I would get from my father? I didn’t even know if I could trust him. But it sounded like I had no choice. He untied my legs and I straightened up, tried to put my shoes on, but my arms had been tied for so long they were still numb. Dad came over and helped. I knew he wanted to say something, maybe something closer to an actual apology but the words didn’t come.

“Hurry,” he said and stood, reached for the door. My legs weren’t doing that much better than my arms and I had trouble walking but I managed to make it out the door and into the empty hallway. I had no idea where to go from here but Dad seemed to know what he was doing. There was a good chance he was making it up just now, but it was better than no plan. At least he seemed to be aware of this building and where the doors and hallways led. Some doors he avoided while others he entered with certainty. We walked for about ten minutes when we encountered our first hurdle. There were two guards standing in the distance and they were both carrying weapons. My father reached for the Glock he always kept on his nightstand. I had seen him carrying it sometimes, when we met new clients but I had never actually seen him use it. I had no idea he had brought it here but I guess it made sense. We hadn’t moved when a phone started to ring and one of the guards left their station and disappeared somewhere inside the maze-like hallways of the building.