For the Love of a Boy (Father Series Book 2)

by Morticia Knight

  “Which you won’t.”

  “Daddy?” Seth’s voice shook. “What’s happening?”

  Malcolm sighed, a steady pounding taking up a steady rhythm in his head. “Okay, look. I need to have a conversation with Seth in on everything. What else can you tell me?”

  Detective Lopez shared with Malcolm that the videos of the church’s so-called therapy methods had been confiscated. They’d been located in the room where Seth had told them he’d been held. That one discovery alone helped lend credence to the rest of Seth’s claims, ad along with other evidence he couldn’t divulge, would likely secure indictments. Then, they would proceed from there with the investigation.

  “All right.” Malcolm pressed his lips together, dreading the days ahead on his boy’s behalf. “I’ll discuss everything with Seth, then get back to you.”

  “I’d insist on speaking with him now, but I’m guessing you’d insist that his attorney, Mr. Goodman, wouldn’t allow it?”

  “You’re an excellent guesser, detective.” Malcolm made a mental note to get an official agreement set up between Seth and Nate immediately.

  They said their goodbyes, with Malcolm promising Detective Lopez he would call him back once they’d met with Nate. The detective then promised Malcolm he’d notify them if the indictments came through. Malcolm couldn’t begin to imagine the fallout if they didn’t and the church members were set free.

  Malcolm set down his phone then faced Seth. The expression Seth radiated back at him broke Malcolm’s heart. If only he could bear the burden for his boy.

  “Sweetheart—”

  “They arrested him, didn’t they? Were they all arrested? What about the camp? Has it been shut down? Do I have to go to Idaho? I don’t think I can. I want to, but I don’t know. Will they make me? Can they do that?”

  While Seth had been frantically asking all his questions, Malcolm had been rubbing his arms and making soft shushing noises, trying to calm him down so he could not only answer Seth, but reassure him.

  “Baby, you need to take a breath and listen to me. Can you do that?”

  Seth hiccupped on a sob, nodding his head. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll listen. I’m sorry.”

  Malcolm gritted his teeth, taking a breath of his own before he spoke. He didn’t want Seth to misinterpret his frustration. “You have nothing, and I mean nothing, to be sorry for. Now, let me take you through this step by step. But before I start, you have to understand there’s very little info as far as the arrests go. It just happened. There’s a long road ahead while they investigate. And yes, someday, you’ll probably have to go to Idaho to testify in court.”

  Malcolm couldn’t stand it any longer and gathered Seth onto his lap. He made sure Seth was looking into his eyes before he continued. “But I’m here for you. I’ve got you baby boy, no matter what. You’re more precious to me than anything or anyone. Do you trust me?”

  Seth threw his arms around Malcolm’s neck. “Of course, Daddy. I trust you with my life.”

  Malcolm hugged Seth, holding onto him tightly, doing all he could to silently convey how much he was loved. He dreaded what he had to say next.

  “Sweetheart,” Malcolm released his hold and eased back so he could lock gazes with hi again. “There’s something else. However, I need you to know I don’t believe it in the slightest, all right?”

  Seth paled. “Believe what? They’re saying they’re innocent? I already assumed that.”

  Malcolm pressed his lips to Seth’s, determined to keep showing him affection, hoping to dull the sting of what he was about to tell him.

  “No. They’ve made an accusation against you. They claim you stole five thousand dollars from the church. They’re telling the detectives that it’s why you left and why you’ve made up these accusations.”

  Seth’s face crumpled as tears fell. “Daddy, I’ve never stolen a thing in my life. Never! Why…?” Seth’s gaze never left Malcolm’s. “Why won’t they stop torturing me? Is being born gay so horrible I have to pay for it over and over and over again? I still haven’t escaped them, have I? It’ll never be over.”

  Seth fell against Malcolm’s chest, weeping and shaking. Malcolm rubbed his back, but realized nothing he did at that moment could comfort his boy—not really. He’d have to cry it out. Then, they could move on from there.

  Malcolm only hoped Seth wouldn’t give up. That his father would get his wish and destroy the man Malcolm didn’t think he could live without.

  Malcolm buried his nose in Seth’s neck, inhaling his boy’s sweetness. He’d fight with everything he had to make sure that never happened.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Seth hadn’t been able to think straight all week. Daddy had fawned over him more than usual—which had been so sweet of him—but he was beginning to feel like a burden. A broken thing that no one could fix.

  He went back to watering the plants. He’d already gone through and picked out the dead leaves and given them food. Daddy had encouraged him to take over the room and do whatever he liked with it. When they’d visited Florence right after Christmas, they’d found a striking tabletop fountain to add to the décor.

  The natural stone base had been carved into a bowl shape and the middle was filled with quartz crystals. In the center of that, a large amethyst orb spun when the water surrounding it bubbled up. A light beneath that made the sphere glow, illuminating the varying purples and interior of the large crystal ball.

  Seth switched on the power, waiting for the fountain to warm up. Ever since Daddy had told him what his father and the others had accused him of, he’d taken to sitting in the room when he could to try and banish some of his anxiety. He tried not to get too lost in his head, but staring at the fountain seemed to calm his mind.

  Even though they’d done an emergency call with Dr. Clay, Seth didn’t feel as if he could truly continue planning the future he’d been dreaming of with Daddy. Not that he thought Daddy would give up on or stop loving him, just that he was terrified of what the outcome of the whole situation might be. His father had been conniving and lying for years. He was an expert at it. Who knew what he might be able to convince the detectives of?

  Seth lowered himself onto one of the dark wicker chairs with the thick, floral-patterned cushions. He’d already cleaned the house so thoroughly he’d run out of chores. He’d baked a banana bread, spaghetti sauce from scratch—freezing half of it for later—and about a dozen other recipes he’d never tried before. Concentrating on his studies or reading a book was out of the question. He couldn’t even enjoy a movie. Sitting still wasn’t an option.

  Every day, from the moment they woke up until it was time to go back to sleep, Daddy had been there whenever Seth had needed him. Daddy would hold and bathe him, touch, kiss and tell him how much he was loved and adored. Seth still wasn’t convinced he was worth so much trouble. Yet, he knew he wouldn’t have made it through the week without the care of his Daddy.

  But Daddy had needed to stop by Nate’s office to pick up some papers Seth would need to sign. Although he’d reassured Seth over and over that he doubted it would be necessary, they were being cautious by officially making Nate his attorney. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

  Daddy knows what to do.

  Seth had come to understand what giving his worry to Daddy meant. That still didn’t mean he was very good at it yet.

  He opened his eyes and his attention was caught by the fern perched on a wrought iron plant stand next to the fountain. One of the leaf stalks had snapped in half somehow, the top of the leaf bent over and already half-dead. Seth leaned forward to break it off when the bell to the door rang. He started at the unexpected noise, but then he remembered that Daddy had ordered a new piece of gym equipment. Perhaps he had to sign for it.

  With a sigh, he pushed up from the chair and made his way to the front door. Maybe he’d ask Daddy to set up another appointment with Dr. Clay for him. He hated the helpless state he’d fallen back into, the sense of futility. He’d sworn to
himself after he’d escaped the camp that he was going to keep pushing forward, that even when circumstances brought him down, he’d keep fighting.

  Seth reached for the knob then choked on his own spit when he saw who was on the other side.

  “Jenny?”

  He blinked repeatedly, not sure if he was hallucinating his ex-fiancée standing before him.

  “Hi Seth.” She appeared nervous and kept glancing around as if something might jump from the bushes and attack her. “Uh, I…I was wondering if I could come inside? Talk for a bit?”

  Seth crossed his arms. Not so much in anger, but like he was trying to keep himself form falling apart. His leg jiggled and he was having a hard time swallowing.

  Breathe.

  Nothing about Jenny’s appearance on his doorstep made any sense. Of course, nothing about his former life and the people in it ever had.

  “Why the hell are you here?”

  He’d used the curse word on purpose, and it had worked. She’d flinched. Then another thought occurred to him. Not only why, but how had she known where he was? The blood seemed to drain form his body and he also checked the surroundings, gripping the doorknob as he took a step back.

  “Wait, Seth!” She advanced, her expression pleading. “I came to beg you to take back your accusations. Just let it go. How could you do that to your own father?”

  Seth gave her a derisive snort. “You should begin by asking how my father could do everything he did to me. And I don’t know how you found me, but you and anyone else from the congregation had better stay away. I have nothing to say to any of you.”

  Seth stumbled back with a yelp as his former so-called lover Andy, and Darryl, one of the camp goons, burst from the shrubbery.

  “Yeah?” Darryl sneered. “Well we’ve got plenty to say to you.” He shoved Jenny aside as he loomed over Seth, his bulk and sheer strength one of the things that had made him such an excellent guard. “You’re coming with us, you sick deviant. Then, you’re going to tell the police that it was all a horrible mistake, that you made it all up and you won’t testify.”

  Seth clenched his jaw, determined to stand his ground and not be bullied. “No. You all need to be stopped, to quit hurting people.”

  “Hurting?” Darryl grunted. “We’re helping save their filthy, black souls.” He jabbed a finger at Seth. “You in particular. If you’d been grateful and resisted Satan the way we taught you, then maybe there would’ve been some hope for you.”

  “Taught?” Fury rose up in Seth, and for the first time, he wanted to hit someone, to hurt them. But he was better than they were. He refused to be like his abusers. “I’m not having this argument. Get out of here before I call the police.”

  Darryl lunged and Seth’s self-preservation instincts kicked in. He whirled around and ran, Darryl grabbing the collar of his T-shirt. Seth twisted his body, struggling free and realizing he was physically stronger than he’d once been. He shot forward and out of Daryl’s reach. If he could only get to the garage that was connected to the kitchen, he could lock himself inside then figure out his next move.

  Seth raced through the house, desperate to put a locked barrier between him and his pursuer. He crashed into the closed door of the garage, unable to control his forward momentum. A muscled arm wrapped around his throat, trapping him in a headlock. Seth scrabbled at Daryl’s arm, jerking up his legs then kicking against the woof panel and forcing the both backwards. They both stumbled, almost losing their footing, but Daryl got the upper hand on him again.

  “Andy!” Daryl growled. “Don’t just stand there like a pussy. Help me!”

  Seth kicked and scratched then stomped on Daryl’s instep with the heel of his Converse-covered foot. Daryl howled and loosened his hold enough that Seth was able to slip out of his arms. He staggered forward, gasping for air. The doorknob was so close…

  Daryl tackled him from behind, slamming them both to the floor. His breath was knocked from his lungs and Seth saw stars. Jenny screamed. In his dazed state, he mused that he hadn’t realized she’d followed them inside.

  Daryl straddled Seth, and he was effectively pinned by his larger attacker. He found himself losing hope that he’d be able to escape, certain that he’d end his days strapped in a chair or imprisoned in a blackened room.

  That he’d never see Daddy again.

  Daryl and Andy were yelling back and forth while Jenny cried and attempted to shout over them both. Their words were jumbled, but fear sliced through his gut the moment Daryl barked, “Keep him still, Andy! I don’t want the needle to break off.”

  Seth roared a string of curses, bucking and jerking—anything to escape being pumped full of drugs again. At the prick of a needle, an immediate warmth surged through his veins and he let out a sob, a tear escaping as he struggled to remain conscious.

  I tried, Daddy. Please remember how much I loved you.

  * * * *

  Right as Malcolm pulled into Nate’s parking lot, his phone burst to life. Instead of engaging the blue tooth, he gave himself a moment to park. Malcolm furrowed his brow and he looked at the caller ID.

  It was Nate.

  “Hey, I just pulled into the lot. I’ll be right—”

  “Never mind that, head back to your place!”

  Malcolm’s belly tightened. He’d never heard Nate sound so frantic. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “A friend of Seth’s called the Idaho detectives with a tip that some church members were coming down here to convince Seth not to testify. But he couldn’t reach them other than to leave a message. So then—”

  “Shit, you’re right, Nate. Tell me the rest later. Call the cops, I’m heading home.”

  Malcolm didn’t bother with a goodbye. He put the truck in gear then tore out of the lot. The temptation to blow through stoplights was huge, but getting himself or anyone else killed wouldn’t help matters. He clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles going white as he attempted to keep his terror at bay.

  The word ‘convince’ had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  He tried to will himself to calm the fuck down. Nate would call the police and they’d likely get there much sooner than him. They’d also be more equipped to deal with a potentially volatile situation. Malcolm but the inside of his cheek so hard, he tasted blood.

  As he drove what suddenly seemed like a thousand-mile trip, he chanted to himself that it would all be okay. Seth was safe. Seth was fine. Those church people couldn’t possibly know where he was anyway, so he had nothing to worry about.

  With a groan, realized he should’ve called Seth before racing away from Nate’s. Malcolm wanted to kick his own ass. But he didn’t dare take the time to stop, so he pressed forward, repeating his mantra that everything was okay.

  Malcolm pulled up to their house and noted with concern that an unfamiliar vehicle was parked on the street directly in front of their mailbox. He glanced up the walkway and his concern changed to horror that the door was ajar.

  Everything happened in a blur. Malcolm jumped from the truck then hopped over the short, picket fence gate. He sped up the walkway and past the threshold. His heart jumped into his throat at the sound of shouts in the direction of kitchen. Malcolm burst into the room and was met with the vision of a large man dragging an unconscious Seth by his arms across the floor.

  His stomach lurched. He hoped unconscious was all Seth was. “Let go of him, you fucker!”

  Malcolm rammed into Seth’s attacker, knocking him into the kitchen table, both of them tumbling over the chairs. A woman’s scream echoed in the room as Malcolm grappled with the beefy man who’d dared to touch Seth. It was only then he realized there were others present. Fighting with one asshole at a time was all Malcolm could handle. He had no clue how many there were or if they had weapons.

  He hoped like hell the cops would arrive soon.

  “Daryl! Never mind! Let’s get outta here!”

  Seth’s attacker punched Malcolm’s temple, but Malcolm held on with all his might.
Clearly, the man he was fighting was Daryl, and the dickhead was trying to flee. Malcolm wrapped his legs around him and rolled them so he could pin him beneath the weight of his body. No way was he letting him get away.

  Shouts erupted all around him. The police were ordering everyone to lie flat and extend their arms away from their bodies. Before Malcolm had the chance to comply, he was yanked by the collar off Daryl. He fell to his stomach, following their instructions. Malcolm turned his head, searching for Seth and whether anyone was helping him. The officers were busy cuffing Seth’s attackers, but no one was paying attention to his boy.

  “My name is Malcolm Nash and this is my home! These people broke in and attacked my boyfriend.”

  One of the officers squatted next to him, an open pair of cuffs in his hand. “Do you have ID on you?”

  “I have ID, but not on me. It’s in my jacket. I left in my black SUV parked out front.”

  “Why didn’t you bring it inside if this is your home.”

  Malcolm tempered his frustration the best he could. “I got a call warning me my boyfriend might be in danger, so I rushed over here and—” Malcolm let out an aggravated sigh. “Look, I don’t care about me. Seth is hurt.” His voice hitched. “The unconscious man. He needs medical attention, please.”

  The policeman called out to another officer. “Rick, send for an EMT then check this guy’s truck.”

  A man’s voice from behind Malcolm interjected, “I already called medical. They should be here any minute.”

  Malcolm released a portion of his tension. “Thank God.”

  The officer proceeded to cuff him. “Just until we verify your story, got it?”

  Malcolm kept his gaze trained on Seth. Now that he knew the EMTs would be there soon, he didn’t give a shit about his own situation.

  A few minutes later, the same officer came back. He squatted next to Malcolm again and undid the cuffs. “All right, Mr. Nash. How about you tell me what happened here?”