Flesh and Blood

by Allison Hobbs

  “While I was doing her, I told her that autoerotic asphyxiation would make it feel better—”

  I groaned loudly when he mentioned the word, asphyxiation. “Why does everything always lead back to your choking and hanging fetish?” I asked with unveiled revulsion.

  “I wish I knew. I don’t have any idea why I’m this way. Do you know?”

  “No clue. You didn’t get any of it from me—or your mother—as far as I know.”

  “So, um, I choked her with the tie I wore to the dance. Gently at first. But I never stuck my fingers inside a girl before, and I sort of got carried away. I pulled the noose so tight, she passed out.”

  “Oh, God,” I groaned.

  “But only for a little while,” he quickly added.

  I pressed a palm against my forehead and closed my eyes.

  “When she went home, she told her uncles what I did, and showed them the mark around her neck. Her uncles are bad people…really dangerous. They came after me, and they were serious about killing me, Pops.”

  “How do you know?”

  “They shot at me! I felt real bullets whizzing past my head,” he exclaimed with a look of incredulity. “And a day later, they started calling my cell phone, threatening to break my ankles, my kneecaps, and both my legs.”

  There was a desperate look in Phoenix’s eyes that he couldn’t have been faking.

  “Is that the real reason why you left Philadelphia in a hurry?” I asked in a compassionate tone.

  He nodded.

  “You told me that you left because of what you did to your mom’s dog—was that a lie?”

  “No, that’s the truth. It all happened within the same time period. My mom was upset that I killed her dumb dog, but her main reason for sending me here was to save my life.”

  Knowing Elle and how much she coddled Phoenix, it made more sense that she’d send him to me for his own protection rather than for something awful that he did. But I resented the fact that she wasn’t straight with me. She could have warned me in advance that our son had a penchant for strangling both humans and animals.

  “Did you get into an altercation with the girl’s uncles when you went home for Christmas break?”

  “No, they didn’t know I was in town. But if I spend more than a week or two at home, they’re bound to find out. Please, don’t send me back there, Pops.”

  “I won’t. But we have to figure out a way for you to work through your issues. You can’t go on this way.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed.

  “But there’s something I need to know.”

  “What?”

  “Were you feeling the urge to hurt Paisley while you were playing around with her in the pool?”

  The guilty look that crossed his face gave me the answer. He sat down at the breakfast nook. Seemingly distraught, he bent over and started rocking back and forth.

  “Tell me! Did you want to hurt Paisley?”

  “I didn’t want to, but when I get that urge, it’s hard for me to control myself.”

  I fell silent, feeling pure compassion for him. I approached him and lay my hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand, Phoenix.”

  He looked up at me, wearing a puzzled expression. “You do?”

  “I didn’t want to get high when I was in my addiction. And I certainly never wanted to engage in any of the crimes that I committed in order to get a fix. So, yeah, I do understand what it’s like to be a victim to your urges. Sometimes I wonder if I passed something on to you when you were conceived.”

  “Something like what?”

  “I don’t know, Phoenix. Maybe somehow I passed on my intense yearning. I was craving heroin on that last night that I spent with your mom…” I paused when he made a face, like the thought of his mother and me being intimate was too revolting to imagine.

  “It can’t be proven by science,” I continued. “But I remember that my mind wasn’t right that night. I was in emotional turmoil and was feenin’ for a hit.”

  “If that’s the case, wouldn’t I be born wanting heroin?”

  “No, only the mother can physically pass on her addiction to a substance such as heroin. As I said, no scientist would back up my theory, but there’s so much we don’t know about genetics, and I can’t help but feel that my state of mind—the way I was craving drugs—had something to do with this thing that you’re dealing with.”

  “Are you saying that you’re to blame for the way I am?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m willing to take responsibility and help you in any way I can.” I glanced out the kitchen window and gazed at Zoe and Paisley as they romped in the pool. “It’s time for Paisley to get home, and I’m going to drive her. I can’t have the discussion I want to have with you tonight because I planned to spend some quality time with Sasha when she gets home from work.”

  Again, he screwed up his face like any mention of adult intimacy was reason to vomit. It didn’t matter that he had divulged having strangled a little dog and killing Taylor, not to mention, his admission of strangling while digitally penetrating his date to the eighth-grade dance.

  “We’re going to have a long talk tomorrow. Together, we’ll figure out some coping skills that you can use whenever you feel that you can’t control yourself. Okay?”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry for being so fucked up. I don’t want to be this way—but there’s something awful inside of me that makes me do the terrible things I do.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” I said, patting his hands that were interlaced and resting on the tabletop.

  CHAPTER 32

  Although I had good intentions, my rendezvous with Sasha didn’t go well. My mind kept wandering as I gave her a massage, and I frequently caught myself rubbing a listless circle on the same area of her back. The edible oil went completely to waste because my mind was too scattered. Plagued by a zillion troubling thoughts about Phoenix, I couldn’t concentrate on giving her oral pleasure. With so much on my mind, I wasn’t capable of the level of commitment that it would take to wholeheartedly give of myself.

  In my mind, I was engaged in a heated discussion with Elle, asking her why she didn’t get Phoenix help sooner—before he was forced to see a shrink after the overdose situation. Certainly there were telltale signs early in his life that warned her that something wasn’t right with him. And why did she send such a damaged and dangerous kid to me without any kind of heads-up?

  “Malik?” Sasha said my name in a soft but firm voice.

  I stopped rubbing her neck. “Hmm?”

  “I don’t think you’re into this. Why don’t we try this again some other time?”

  “Yeah—okay,” I said eagerly, and then scampered to my side of the bed. I turned my back to her, not out of spite or malice, but I needed to disconnect from her in order to mentally sort out what to do about Phoenix.

  Clearly, his therapy sessions weren’t helping at all. I had no idea what he spoke to the therapist about, but a good therapist should have been able to figure out that the boy had serious problems.

  A wave of sleepiness began to overtake me. Realizing that I was exhausted, I allowed my heavy lids to close. While on the edge of a dream, I heard Sasha sniffling. I realized that she was blaming herself for my lack of sexual interest, but it wasn’t her—it was me.

  Unfortunately, I was too drowsy to turn over and put an arm around her or offer some sort of comforting gesture. I was fortunate to have a woman like Sasha, and I didn’t want to lose her.

  Darkness engulfed me and I surrendered to the dream state. Throughout the night, I was inundated with bad dreams. The dream that was the most troubling was one where Phoenix marched me to the edge of a cliff at gunpoint. “Jump,” he beseeched me. “There’s no other way out.”

  I woke up in a cold sweat at dawn. As Sasha slept beside me, I slipped out of bed and dressed hastily in my work khakis and button-down shirt. Intending to get to the casino early and finish the job I’d started, I scribbled a quick
note and left the house.

  Arriving at the casino at quarter to seven, it was too early to bump into Dacy. Hopefully, I’d be finished before his work day started. I wasn’t in the mood for any more chatter about the man the police had in custody. After listening to how helpless Phoenix felt in regard to his deadly compulsion, I supposed that even child molesters—as vile as they were—deserved a bit of sympathy.

  I finished the job at ten o’clock, and was grateful that Dacy hadn’t popped in to say good morning. He liked to hear himself talk and I had no doubt that his morning greeting would have escalated to a long-winded rant about whatever was disturbing him today.

  Inside the casino’s garage, I sat in my car. I pulled out my cell phone to call Elle, but I realized that it was only seven in the morning in Philadelphia, too early to call.

  Fuck it! She didn’t deserve any considerations, and so I called her anyway.

  “We need to talk,” I said gruffly when she picked up.

  “Why are you calling so early? Did something happen with Phoenix?”

  “A lot has happened with Phoenix,” I spat. “Why didn’t you tell me that our son has a proclivity for asphyxiating people and pets?”

  There was a shocked little gasp on her end, followed by silence.

  “Are you there, Elle?”

  “Yes, hold on for a second.”

  In the background I heard a groggy male voice that I assumed belonged to Everett ask who was on the phone. She must have mouthed my name because I didn’t hear her reply.

  “I’m going to put some coffee on,” she said to the male voice.

  I listened to her footsteps as she took me along with her on her trek downstairs to the kitchen.

  “I’m back,” she said when she reached her destination.

  “Was Everett in on your scheme to blindside me with a troubled kid?”

  “No! And Phoenix is not troubled.”

  “He killed your pup, right? Hung it!”

  “That was an accident. He was experimenting. You know how kids are—they’re curious.”

  “About death?” I said dubiously.

  There was silence on her end.

  “Take your head out of the sand, Elle. Early on, you had to know that Phoenix wasn’t like other kids.”

  “I know that he was smarter than most. More articulate. He easily grasped foreign languages and was more inclined in math and science than most of his classmates.”

  “Right. But you’re not mentioning his dark side. Did you tell Everett what he did to your dog? Did you tell him about the girl he almost strangled to death in your basement?”

  “No! Everett doesn’t know about any of that.”

  “Oh. So, in other words, you covered for Phoenix. Made up a story about the dog’s death and about the reason for the death threats he was receiving from his classmate’s uncles.”

  “I didn’t want Everett to form a bad opinion about Phoenix’s experimentations.”

  I gave a wry laugh. “Experimentations, huh? That’s a nice way of describing his destructive activities.”

  “Malik.” She said my name in a world-weary tone. “I hoped that being in a different environment—and living in the same household as his biological father would have a positive effect on Phoenix.”

  “Well, you were wrong. He was too far gone when you sent him for a mere change of scenery to be the solution to his problems.”

  “What has he done, exactly?”

  It was my turn to go silent as I considered whether or not to tell her about Taylor Flanagan. I decided against it. After all, Phoenix wasn’t alone in culpability, and I refused to risk implicating myself.

  “He had his eye on one of Zoe’s classmates. A few months back, he lured her to an empty house in our neighborhood. I caught up with him before he could harm her. After I questioned him intensely, he admitted that he had an urge to strangle her.”

  “No, that can’t be. He wouldn’t hurt a little girl.”

  “It’s true and you know it. What about his date for the eighth-grade dance? How do you think she ended up unconscious in your basement?”

  “They were experimenting with breath control play, and things got out of hand. The girl didn’t tell her uncles that she had asked Phoenix to choke her.”

  “Do you hear yourself? How many eighth-grade girls have ever even heard of getting choked for pleasure? And how many do you think would make such an unusual request? Phoenix talked her into it, and she went along, never dreaming she was putting her life at risk.”

  “That’s not true,” Elle insisted. “And I resent the way you’re portraying him as being out of control and violent.”

  “He admitted being out of control and violent, and asked for help. That’s why I called so early in the morning. I had hoped that we could discuss some kind of treatment for Phoenix.”

  “Treatment? Certainly you’re not suggesting having him put away again.”

  “We have to do something, Elle. Children aren’t safe around him.”

  “You’re exaggerating. Look, if you’re tired of looking after your son, then say so. When that girl’s thuggish uncles started harassing him, it occurred to me to send him to a boarding school in France, where he wouldn’t have to worry about uncivilized people. I should have followed my first mind.”

  “You’re in complete denial, and I was too for a long time, so I understand. Don’t worry about it, Elle. I’ll handle the problem on my own.”

  “Don’t do anything stu—”

  Elle was useless and I hung up before she could finish her sentence.

  Phoenix needed a different shrink—a better one. Someone who could read between the lines without him specifically stating that he was a murderer and was bound to kill again. How I’d find such a person was a mystery to me.

  I decided to Google “Adolescent Psychiatry for Teens in Crisis,” but I hit the local news app on my phone by mistake. My mouth literally fell open when I saw a headline that read: Violent Child Molester Released from Police Custody.

  Both incredulous and infuriated, I read the entire article with a scowl on my face, while shaking my head in disbelief. According to the report, Glen Mathis was released from the county jail after police surveyed footage of him entering a Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting and leaving around the time that Taylor Flanagan was reported missing. He claimed that he stole her belongings from her hospital room when she was admitted after a tonsillectomy last summer. He said that he’d never had direct contact with the child, and had begun driving with her possessions in the trunk of his vehicle to honor her memory after her body was found.

  Now we had two monsters in our neighborhood that were prone to hurting little girls. One monster caused pain in a violent sexual manner, and the other responded to an insatiable urge to kill.

  My phone suddenly pinged with a text, and lo and behold, Phoenix was the sender. He said he didn’t feel good and wanted to come home. He asked if I would call the school office and pretend that he had a doctor’s appointment.

  Since we needed to finish yesterday’s conversation, I decided to do him one better, and show up at his school in person.

  As I drove to his high school, I concluded that the only way to help Phoenix was to convince him to enter a psychiatric facility willingly. I had to get him off the streets, and for his own good, I was willing to risk him inadvertently confessing to a shrink and dragging my name in the mess.

  CHAPTER 33

  A cheerful receptionist greeted me when I entered the school’s office. I told her that I was there to pick Phoenix up for a doctor’s appointment and she paged his classroom right away. Five minutes later, Phoenix came into the office, smiling sheepishly. Furtively, he gave me the thumbs-up sign, as if we had conspired together and successfully pulled the wool over the receptionist’s eyes.

  On our way to the car, Phoenix walked while swiping at the screen of his phone.

  “So, you’re not feeling well—what’s wrong?”

  He looked up from his p
hone. “Nothing. I mean…nothing physical.”

  “Oh? What’s going on? Talk to me.”

  He stopped walking and I halted my steps as well. “It’s those urges, again. They’re really strong, and I figured it’s best if I’m not around other kids.”

  The raw pain that I saw in his eyes made me feel scared and helpless. I had promised him last night that we’d find a solution together, and as we commenced walking, my mind was in overdrive.

  Suddenly struck by a thrilling idea, I grasped his arm, forcing him to a standstill. “You say that you only target little kids because they’re easy to overpower…”

  “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “Suppose you were physically able to subdue an adult. Would choking or hanging an adult give you the same satisfaction as asphyxiating a child?”

  “Definitely. But I can’t take down an adult—unless it’s a midget.” Phoenix smirked and returned his gaze to his phone.

  “But I can.” My announcement was so unexpected, he jerked his head upward and stared at me.

  “What are you saying?”

  “The police set that child molester free. We’d be doing a community service if we got rid of that scumbag.”

  Phoenix’s eyes sparkled with glee. “Really? You’d actually help me kill him?”

  “Yes, especially if it’ll satiate your craving and prevent you from harming innocent little kids.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure it will.”

  “Are you positive?”

  “Yes, I’m positive.” He smiled so broadly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d begun to rub his palms together delightedly.

  We got in the car and I started the engine. Before I shifted into drive, I turned and looked at him.

  “What? Why’re you staring at me? Stop acting creepy, Pops.”

  The pot was calling the kettle black, but I let the creepy comment slide.

  “I have to ask you a question, and I don’t want you to lie to me. Remember, you can tell me anything, Phoenix—I’m on your side.”

  “Okay. Ask the question.”

  “Is Zoe safe in the house with you?”