Family Ties

Chapter 3

“Sir, we’ve lost track of the subject.”

My assistant, Trent, stands next to me, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “What do you mean you’ve lost track of him?” I ask, not looking up from the spreadsheet in front of me.

“It’s just that, sir: he’s completely gone off the radar. All eyes have lost sight of him and the tracker has gone offline.”

Curiosity, and maybe a bit of worry, taking hold of me, I set down my pen and stand up. “Have you communicated with all field agents?”

“Yes, sir. It seems there was a situation at the hospital and they weren’t able to keep an eye on him in all the commotion. By the time everything managed to settle down a bit, the subject was gone.”

“And how long ago did this happen?”

“Fifteen minutes ago, sir.”

A low growl comes up in my throat and I reach for my intercom button. “If you all aren’t in my office in the next twenty seconds, you can bet shit will go down.”

Releasing the button, I stand patiently waiting for my associates to get to my office. Not ten seconds later, thundering feet echo outside of my office door. The door bursts open a moment later, all of my associates panting as they try to catch their breath. “How long was that, Trent?” I ask.

“Fourteen seconds, sir.”

“Good. Everyone take a look at the wall. Trent, if you will?”

Trent nods and grabs a remote near my desk and presses a button. The wall slowly lowers, revealing dozens of monitors and gadgets I don’t fully understand (but that’s why I have Trent). “Not long ago,” I start, “the subject went off our radar. Do any of you know about what happened at the hospital?”

“Sir, it seems that there was a hostage situation where a crazed homeless man held a nurse at knifepoint,” Baxter says. “The situation was resolved by someone inside the hospital who took the man down with a gun.”

“Any news beyond that?”

“No, sir.”

I drum my fingers on my arm. “Trent, enlarge cameras nine and twelve.”

Trent types out a command into his tablet and the camera feeds in question pop up on the wall. And sure enough, the apartment in the feed is empty, save for that cat. Well, looks like it scratched up another pillow. That cat always looks so damn proud of himself. I don’t know how he deals with it.

But there are no signs of him there. Where the hell has he gone? “Have there been any ransom calls or emails?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the screens.

“None, sir,” Jack says. “Everything has been business as usual.”

Something isn’t right. And I don’t like the feeling at the back of my head. “Keep an eye out for any emails and tells me if there are any ransom calls,” I demand. “Get all field agents scouring the streets for any sign of him. And Trent, get me a cappuccino.”

“Yes, sir,” they all sound off.

“Chocolate shavings on the cappuccino, sir?” Trent asks as he’s leaving.

“And a cinnamon scone. I’ve had a craving for something sweet all day.”

Trent nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door shuts, I close the wall and take a seat behind my desk. Picking up my pen, I find myself staring at the pictures I have on my desk. But one grabs my attention the most. Jackson when he was just seven years old in his first little league baseball game.

God, he was such a mess when it was all over, covered in dirt and sweaty. Even when he hit the ball poorly, he put his all into that game. And when Catherine took that picture with Jackson wrapped in my arms…wait, what the hell am I thinking?! Jackson is a faggot. Disgusting human beings they are.

But…why does my throat feel tight? Gripping my pen a bit tighter, I grab the picture frame and throw it at the wall, the glass shattering and the frame crumpling to the floor. I stare at the mess for a moment before reaching to my intercom. “Trent, bring a broom and dustpan when you come back.”

“Yes, sir.”

Taking my pen again, I try to focus on my work. But that feeling in the back of my head still won’t go away.

----------------

“Crime family?”

“Yes,” Kent says, setting down his silverware. “The Dragonis Group has been around since the turn of the 20th century, when my grandfather established it. Since then, we’ve become an internationally recognized crime syndicate.”

“A-And what is it you…do?”

“Our main source of income is our family dairy company,” Lisa says. “Davis Family Dairy. Have you heard of us?”

How could you not? Davis Family Dairy is one of the largest and most successful food brands in the world. “And how did crime come into it?” I ask.

“When my grandfather was just starting out with the dairy business, he was dealing with some very stiff competition,” Kent explains. “People tried to steal his plans and run him out of business. So it all started then. My grandfather killed those responsible for the plans to steal his work. And six months after that, the Dragonis group was born.”

“Don’t get us wrong,” Amy says. “We all have legitimate careers that are squeaky clean. But we have some friends in other places that owe us some favors.”

“How do they owe you favors?”

“Mostly it’s bailing them out of tight situations,” Victor says. “When they need money, we step in and provide it for them, but at a cost. The phrase ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine’ comes into play a lot for us. We provide favors, they give us favors in return.”

“Isn’t that underhanded?”

“Some may see it that way,” Kent says. “But rest assured. We don’t do anything that could have a negative impact. We like to take care of the negative problems like corrupt officials or seedy goings on.”

This is all so much to take in. “Cash,” I say. “Why have you brought me here?”

Cash stares down at the table for a second before slowly standing up and walking over to me. “Jax, I saw what you did at the hospital. Only someone with years of experience could have handled that so well.” He takes a breath and stares at me right in the eye. “I want you to join us. I want you to join the Dragonis Group.”

If I had a jaw, it’s probably long gone by now. “Y-You can’t be serious…”

“I’m dead serious, Jax. Look, you need a job. And working for the Dragonis group would give you that job. You’d be making a hell of a lot of money, there’s benefits, and…”

“And I’d be committing crime!” Cash winces from my yelling. “Cash, I’m a doctor for God’s sake! Asking me to work for a crime family would be like asking a firefighter to become an arsonist!”

Granted I worked with my family, but that was unwillingly and I didn’t commit any crime. “Jax, it isn’t like that.” Cash carefully puts his hand on my arm. “The crimes we commit don’t affect the public…”

I pull away from his hand. “It doesn’t matter. A crime is a crime to me and I don’t want to be involved in it.” I turn to look at Cash’s frozen family. “Thank you for dinner. And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone what went on here in the last five minutes.”

I grab my jacket and start to make my way toward the front door, ignoring Cash calling after me. Walking out of the front door, I start to look up cab company numbers. “Jax, what’re you doing?”

Cash has followed me outside. “I’m calling a cab and going home. I need to make sure Shadow is okay and see if he’s torn up another of my pillows.”

Cash stares down at his feet for a second. “Listen, I know you’re mad…”

“Cash, I’m not mad. I just need to think about some stuff. And I want to go home to do it. Go back inside and have dinner with your family.”

He descends the stairs and before I can protest, he has me enveloped in a hug. “At least let me drive you home. A cab would be expensive for a ride back to Manhattan. Please?”

The pleading tone in his voice melts me a bit. “Fine…”

He pulls away and reaches into the pocket of his pants, pulling out his keys and unlocking his car. We both climb in and I immediately look out the window. Cash says nothing as he pulls the car around the fountain. The whole ride home is in complete silence.

Cash pulls up to my apartment building a little more than an hour later. He comes to a stop and I start to unbuckle my seatbelt, Cash reaches across the armrest and places his hand on my arm. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

I press my lips together in thought for a moment. “I don’t know, Cash. I just need a bit of time to think about this.”

Before he can say anything, I quickly open the door and jump out. I walk inside of my building without looking back. Getting upstairs to my apartment, I step in to find Shadow sitting in the middle of my living room. And sure enough, he’s destroyed another pillow. And he seems to be proud of himself for it.

Rolling my eyes, I quickly get the pillow and all the shreds of it cleaned up. I fall onto the couch and Shadow hops up and takes a seat right in my lap. “You’re lucky I like you, you little shit.”

He purrs in response before quickly nodding off to sleep. Reaching behind me, I pull out Misery and Agony and stare down at the two of them. Just holding the two of them together in my hands gives me a sense of power. Maybe I should head to the shooting range next weekend.

I set my guns aside and lean back into the couch, thinking back over the events of today.

----------------

“So how’re you and Cash doing?” Marline asks as she takes a bite of her sandwich.

One of the several topics I didn’t really want to talk about at lunch. “We’re okay. He’s been busy with work the last few days, so he and I haven’t spoken too much.”

“And how’s your job search going?” Zach asks.

“Absolutely terribly. There are places all around that are hiring, but I want a job involving medicine, not standing behind a cash register asking people if they want fries with their food.”

I annoyingly take a sip of my soda as I fall back into my seat. Being unemployed sucks. It’s not the lack of income I hate. It’s the fact that I have absolutely nothing to do around my apartment during the day. I wake up, eat breakfast, go to the gym, get lunch, sit around and watch TV, do chores, feed Shadow, eat dinner, sit and do nothing, and go to bed.

I swear Shadow is going to start getting pissed because he doesn’t have as much time to destroy my stuff anymore. “Have you talked to the board yet?” Liam asks.

“Yeah, I sent an appeal a couple of days ago. I haven’t heard anything since then though.”

“It’s total bullshit,” Rebecca says, popping a fry into her mouth. “You’re one of the best surgeons in the country. How could they even think about revoking your license?”

I already know the reason, but I just shrug my shoulders. “I do need to stop by the hospital today though,” I say. “I left a couple notes in the lab and I’d like to get them as soon as I can. Katie has them waiting for me.”

Standing up, I pull out a few bills and toss them onto the table. “Sorry to dine and dash, guys, but I just want to get this done.”

“Then what’re you going to do?” Roman asks.

“Probably go home and sit on my couch, same as I’ve done for almost a week now. I’ll text you guys later.”

Grabbing my coat, I head out of the diner and start my walk to the hospital. While it’s only a few blocks, it gives me a little time to think about what’s going on in my life. So in the past week, I’ve lost my job and found out my kind of boyfriend and his family is a very powerful crime family. If I didn’t know any better, I would think my life is in a story right now.

My daydream has brought me right to the hospital. Walking in the front door, I find that there’s a bit of heaviness to the air. But that’s to be expected after what happened. “Hi, Dr. Coleman,” Katie says as I walk to the front desk.

“How’re you holding up, Katie?”

“Better than I thought I would. It’s not every day you get taken hostage in the place where you work.”

“Are you sure you should be back at work so soon? I mean what happened was only a few days ago.”

“Oh I’m fine. Yeah, it was scary, but it’s in the past. And the guy is already behind bars and waiting for trial. So I’m good. Do you need those last notes of yours?”

“Please.” Katie bends down and comes back with a few folders filled with my notes. “Is this all of them?”

“All the ones with your name on them. Don’t worry. I didn’t peek at any of them. I know how secretive you are of your research.”

“Thank you, Katie. How’s the hospital holding up?”

“Well after the news crews stuck around for a couple of days, everything went back to normal. But everyone here misses you, Dr. Coleman.”

“Are you sure you just don’t miss the bagels I brought in every Friday?”

Katie lets out a giggle. “Those bagels are damn good, but a bagel has nothing on you.”

I chuckle a bit myself. “Thank you, Katie. I should probably get going. Don’t want to be in the way.”

Katie sighs to herself. “This really sucks.”

“Now that’s something we both agree on, Katie.”

Taking my notes, I give Katie a wave as I turn and head out of the hospital before jumping into a cab and heading home. Riding up to my floor, I walk to the front door of my apartment to find someone slumped over against my door, staring down at the floor with two dogs lying down next to him. “Um…are you okay?” I ask as I approach the man.

He looks up and I find Cash staring up at me, looking like he hasn’t slept in the last couple of days and his face unshaven. “Jax!”

He jumps to his feet and wraps his arms tightly around my neck, his dogs barking happily. “Cash? What’re you doing here?”

“I…I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days and I was worried. You’ve been ignoring my text and phone calls and…I didn’t know what to do so I decided to come here.”

Even though I’m still a little torn over how I feel about him, just the feeling of having him hold me brings me comfort. He slowly lets go of me. “You want something to drink?”

He nods and I unlock my door and usher him, Saber, and Midnight into my apartment. Shadow picks his head up at hearing the door open and his eyes immediately go to Saber and Midnight. Within a second, the two dogs take off toward Shadow. “No!” Cash says.

But Shadow quickly stands up and lets out a loud hiss. The dogs slide to a stop in front of Shadow, sitting on the floor and not moving as Shadow stares at them. Shadow meows once before Saber and Midnight both lie down on the floor, Shadow jumping off the coffee table and lying down between them.

All three of them are asleep within seconds. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen something like that,” Cash says.

“Neither have I. You want a bottle of water?”

Cash nods and I quickly get us two bottles of water from the fridge and we both take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Why aren’t you at work?” I ask.

“I left early so I could come and see you. I know that sounds kind of stalkerish, but I was worried about you and…scared that you may not have wanted to talk to me.”

I lightly place my hand on top of his. “Cash, I’ve had a lot on my mind the past few days. Me losing my job, my family, and the fact that I’ve learned that my sort of boyfriend is part of a crime family, so I haven’t really been focused. I’m sorry for making you worry, but I just didn’t want any distractions.”

Cash nods a bit and sips his water. “I can understand that. But…are we still going out on Saturday?”

A smile pulls at the corners of my lips. “I’d like that. Dinner and a walk through Central Park?”

Cash’s face brightens immediately. “Perfect. And um…have you told anyone about…?”

Took longer than I thought. “No, Cash. I haven’t told anybody about what you and your family do. It’s frankly none of my business what it is you guys get up to. As long as it doesn’t affect me, it’s none of my concern.”

He lets out a breath. “Okay, good. I’m sorry if I’m focusing on this too much. I just…” He quickly downs the rest of his water and stands up. “Anyway, I should probably get out of your hair.”

We both stand up and I walk him to the door, Saber and Midnight joining us a moment later. “Call you later?” he asks.

“Sure.”

He smiles and gives me a quick kiss before stepping out with his dogs. Closing the door behind me, I walk to my bathroom and wash my face off to try and relieve some of the stress I’m going through. As I shut off the water and look at myself in the mirror, the last thing I see is a man standing behind me as he brings his fist against the side of my head.

----------------

It’s a good thing Jax’s building allows pets otherwise I would’ve had to leave Saber and Midnight in my car. And that would’ve pissed them off. And that would’ve led to them doing something in my car. Opening my car door, they both pile in and I’m quick to follow behind them.

As I’m about to start my car, my phone starts ringing. Pulling it out, I see Victor’s name on the screen. “Hey, Victor,” I say.

“Hey, Cash. You doing okay? My secretary told me you left early.”

“Yeah, I just needed to talk to Jax. He and I haven’t spoken in a couple of days so I was just a bit worried about how he was handling the whole thing with the family.”

“So how’re you two doing then?”

“We’re good. We’re going out this Saturday night for dinner.”

“Cool. By the way, there are a few case notes you left unanswered. Would you be able to get that done tomorrow before we go to court?”

“Yeah, sure thing. If you could get someone to fax them to me, I’ll get it done tonight.”

“Perfect.”

All of a sudden, Saber lets out a bark that grabs my attention. I turn to find him looking out the window. Looking where he’s looking, I find someone wheeling a large crate out of Jax’s building. Following where he’s walking, I find him step next to an unmarked black van, where he and another man load the box into the van.

Something in my gut tells me something’s up. “Victor, I need you to do me a favor,” I say into my phone.

“Law firm favor or family favor?”

“Family, urgently.”

I hear a distinctive change in Victor’s voice. “What do you need?”

“A license plate number run. JXC-6349.”

“Running it now.” There’s silence for a moment and the two men climb into the van. “Cash, that license plate is held to Franklin Bauchman. He’s the head of the Krakansi Group. Whatever they’re up to, it can’t be good.”

“Got it. Permission to follow?”

“Permission granted. And I’ll get some other guys to back you up.”

Thanking Victor, I hang up my phone and turn on my car. The van starts to pull away from the curb and I’m quick to follow. So far, nothing is out of the ordinary. I’m staying behind a couple car lengths so I don’t raise any alarms to them. Just what the hell are these guys doing?

My cell phone starts to ring again and I put it on speaker. “Cashel Davis.”

“Son?”

“What’s up, Dad?”

“Victor told me about what’s going on. What did you see?”

The van takes a sudden turn and I follow behind them. “Two guys loaded a crate into an unmarked black van. Saber and Midnight seemed on edge when we were watching them.”

“Those dogs of yours have good instincts, Cashel. The Krakansi Group has started to step up their game a bit and are going for bigger targets. It’s likely there’s a person in that crate you saw.”

Shit. “Should I step off and let the police handle it?”

“No. The Krakansi Group is a disgusting group of individuals who only do what they do because they enjoy hurting people. Their group is small, so if we go all out, we can destroy them.”

My hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter. “What’s your plan?” I ask.

“A full scale attack. You’re our scout, son. We don’t know the headquarters of the Krakansi Group, so you need to follow that van like your life depends on it. When you get to the headquarters, drop a pin on the location and we’ll be quick to follow. Don’t go in by yourself. Wait for backup.”

“Got it.”

“Good luck, son.”

Hanging up, I reach over and scratch Saber and Midnight behind their ears. “Don’t worry, guys. We’ll be okay.”

Both of them growl, letting me know they’re out for blood. Why would they be so hostile? Is it because of whoever is in the crate? Who the hell could it be?

----------------

“Wake up.”

A hand comes across my face, jolting me awake. I immediately wish I could stay unconscious because my head is killing me. Slowly opening my eyes, everything starts to come into focus. About half a dozen men are standing in front of me, all of them big and intimidating.

My stomach tightens when I feel I’m tied to a chair. “Oh good, you’re up.”

Looking to my left, I find a man standing next to me, dressed in a very tacky white suit. He’s older, and not in good shape. I bet if I pushed him to the ground, he wouldn’t be able to get back to his feet without help. “I apologize for messing up your shirt,” he says. “One of my lackeys caused you to hit your head on the edge of a counter after he knocked you out.”

Looking down, I find a few streaks of dried blood on my shirt. Damn it, I liked this shirt too. “What do you want?” I ask. “Why have you kidnapped me?”

Mr. White Suit lets out a low laugh. Oh this can’t be good. “You’re Jackson Coleman, correct?” he asks.

“And if I am?”

He slaps me across the face and I feel the taste of iron fill my mouth. “Think you’re a real smartass, don’t you?” he snarls. “We’ve been watching you for a little while now, Jackson.”

Well shit. I spit out a bit of blood, and glare up at White Suit. “So you know who I am. Who the hell are you guys?”

White Suit laughs a bit, sending a bit of a chill down my spine. “Oh, where are my manners? My name is Franklin Bauchman, and these men here work for me. I do hope you’ve heard of us. The Krakansi Group?”

I search my mind for some memory about Dad or maybe Pierce or Thorn talking about them. “Human trafficking group?” I guess. “Brutal in your methods?”

“Good! You have heard of us! That makes me so happy!”

He claps a little before turning serious again. “So why do you want me?” I ask.

Bauchman chuckles a little. “You think we don’t know who you really are? Jackson Coleman, son of Morgan Coleman, who is the head of the Tigris Group, one of the most powerful families in the United States. I feel that we could get a pretty penny if we put a gun to your head and give him a call.”

I manage to stop myself from laughing. Like Dad would do anything if he heard I was kidnapped. “So make yourself comfortable, because you’re going to be here for a while,” Bauchman tells me.

“Not like I have much of a choice,” I mumble.

Another hand comes across my face. “You’re lucky you have a high price on your head, otherwise I’d have driven a bullet in that pretty face of yours.” Bauchman turns to his men. “Keep an eye on him. And don’t be afraid to use a little force if you need to.”

Bauchman laughs to himself as he leaves the room, closing a door behind him. I look to the men. “He reminds me of a really fat turtle.”

All of them men cover their mouths to keep themselves from laughing. “Shut it,” one of them tells me. “Say another thing and you’ll be missing a few teeth.”

“Aw, does it have to be my teeth? Can’t it be somewhere else?”

One of the guys steps up to me and punches me in the gut, my lunch threatening to make an appearance. Maybe I should shut up a bit…

----------------

Jesus, where the fuck are they? I’ve been sitting here for at least twenty minutes. “Victor, what the hell is going on? You got the location, right?”

“Yeah, we did. Only problem is getting everyone together on such short notice. We’re almost set up, but it’ll be about fifteen minutes until we’re there.”

“That’s going to take too long, Victor. Whoever they’ve kidnapped must be important. And we many not have much time before something happens to them.”

There’s muffled noises on the other end of the line for a moment. “Cashel, I’m going to give you clearance.”

When Victor uses my full name, I know he’s being serious. “Clearance for?”

“For you to go in by yourself.”

My heart skips a beat. “But Dad told me to wait for backup. We all know how dangerous the Krakansi Group can be.”

“That’s true, but I’m using the bit of power I have to allow you to infiltrate the compound. Dad may give me shit for it later, but you’re right. Time is important here. How much stock do you have?”

“Enough.”

“That’s good enough for me. Be careful and don’t do anything stupid. We’ll see you soon.”

Hanging up, I look over at Saber and Midnight. “Listen to me.” They both stop panting and pay full attention to me. “You two are the distraction. I want you to make yourselves look like homeless dogs looking for food. Then I want you to raise some hell. Got it?”

They bark in response and I unclip their collars. I lean over and open the car door and they jump out. I watch them as they run themselves through a few patches of dirt and mud and some piles of garbage for good measure before running to the front of the building.

With the main entrance occupied, I step out of my car and walk around to my trunk. Reaching in, I pull out two Beretta M9A3s, a Remington 870 Tactical Shotgun, a few magazines, and some flashbangs. While it may seem excessive, I don’t know what I’m getting into and I want to be prepared.

Suiting myself up with a bulletproof vest, I make my way around the building to try and find a side entrance. I manage to find an old, rusted door cracked open in the back of the building. Making my way to it, I quietly slip inside and find myself in what looks to be a back hallway.

This place is disgusting and it looks like no one has been here in years. There’s garbage everywhere, but thankfully plenty of cover in case I… “Hey, did you hear something?”

Shit! I quickly duck down behind a wooden crate as I hear footsteps step into the hallway. “Must’ve been a rat,” someone says. “This place is full of ‘em.”

“Yeah, probably. Let’s get back to our positions or the boss will get pissed.”

They walk away and I breathe out a bit. Okay, something is clearly going on here. And I don’t like the feeling at the back of my neck that I’m getting. I step out from behind the crate and rush to the corner. Peering my head around it, I find what looks to be close to two-dozen guys scattered the warehouse, all of them holding some kind of gun.

But that’s not what grabs my attention. What I’m focusing on is the tens of people in the middle of the warehouse, all of them seated on the floor in a big group, all of them looking absolutely terrified. Have all of these people been kidnapped? “Alright, listen up!”

Looking to where the voice came from, I see a very fat man in a disgusting white suit flanked by two large men. Franklin Bauchman. “So here’s what’s going to happen!” he says almost gleefully. “I’ve managed to find a buyer for every single one of you! And for a very nice price! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Everyone in the large group bristles as a whole. Bauchman laughs at seeing it. This son of a bitch is actually enjoying their misery. “The trucks that will be taking you to the shipping yard should be here soon,” he says. “So I hope you all make yourselves comfortable. Because it’ll probably be the last time any of you will be.”

Victor, you better get here soon. This is fucking serious. “Oh and don’t even think about running,” Bauchman says. “If one of you even tries it, you’ll be pumped full of lead.”

“Sir, we have a small issue,” I hear one of the henchmen say.

“And what would that be?”

“Two stray dogs were found near the entrance. It doesn’t appear they belong to anyone.”

Bauchman seems to think it over for a moment before he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handgun. A second later, the henchman is on the ground with a new hole in his head. “Why is that an issue I care about?” Bauchman emotionlessly says. “Get rid of the dogs.”

I can’t wait anymore. If someone threatens my dogs, they get fucked up. I step out from behind my corner with my two handguns in hand and quickly take aim at the first two guys I see. With two quick pops, they’re down for the count. “Intruder!” someone shouts.

“He must be a cop!” Bauchman says. “Fucking kill him!”

All the men grab whatever guns they have and take aim at me. I run behind a dumpster at the first of the shots go off. Grabbing one of my flashbangs, I pull the clip and throw it behind me and over the dumpster. I cover my ears and shut my eyes. “Stun grenade!”  someone yells.

The flashbang goes off and everything in front of my eyes goes bright for a second. Opening my eyes, I grab my guns again and hear everyone struggling to see. Standing over the dumpster, I take aim and drop six other goons. “Saber! Midnight!” I yell.

From around a corner, my dogs run out, teeth out in full force. They run at the first men they see and sink their teeth into them. With a new distraction, I run from the dumpster and pull out my shotgun. “Grab backup’s attention!” I scream.

Saber and Midnight take their teeth out of the men and rush out of the room, barking their heads off. With a powerful blast, another guy drops in front of me and his friend is quick to follow. “Don’t you fucking move!”

In my peripheral, I see something that makes me stop in my tracks and makes my blood run cold. “Jax!”

He looks absolutely horrible. Beaten to shit with one eye swollen shut, blood dripping from his nose and corners of his mouth, and bruises starting to form all over his face. And holding him with a gun pressed against his temple is Bauchman, surrounded by about half a dozen of his guards. “So you know who our newest slave is?” Bauchman sneers.

“Fucking let go of him!”

Bauchman presses the gun barrel a little tighter against Jax’s temple. “I don’t think so. This guy here is going to get me a lot of money.”

“I swear to God you son of a bitch. If you don’t let him go, you’re going to regret it.”

Bauchman lets out a laugh that makes me want to drive a bullet right into his face. “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t know who you’re messing with,” he says. “I have enough firepower next to me to kill you before you can beg for your life.”

There’s a sudden buzz from my pocket and in the upper deck windows, I see shadows lining them. Perfect timing, guys. “I’m the one in charge here, you little shit,” Bauchman says. “So you can either listen to me or you’ll be wiping your friend’s brains off the floor.”

I’m quick to comply and I drop my shotgun on the floor and hold my hands up. Bauchman chuckles to himself. “Good.”

“Can I just say one thing?” I ask.

“What? ‘Please don’t shoot him?’”

“No. I just hope you like blood on that suit of yours. Fire!”

Shots and shattering glass ring out as all of Bachman’s bodyguards fall to the floor. Their blood quickly stains Bauchman’s suit and droplets cover his face. The doors to the warehouse burst open and dozens of men and women flood in, all of them holding weapons and pointing them at Bauchman.

Bauchman freezes and I quickly pick up my shotgun. A quiet whimper catches my attention and I find the group of people in the middle of the room cowering in fear. Lowering my shotgun, I address everyone in the room. “I need escorts for every single civilian in this room! Get them outside and to a hospital!”

“Yes, sir!” a chorus rings back at me.

A couple dozen men and women carefully get the group of people to their feet and help them outside. As the people are filtered out, I see Dad and Victor walking in. “Took you long enough,” I say.

“Sorry,” Victor says. “We’re here now though.”

“You sons of bitches!” Looking over, I find Bauchman looking incredibly unstable, the gun tight in his hand, Jax still in his arm. Shit I completely forgot. “I have millions invested in this! And I’m not going to give it up that easily!”

Damn it! If I even try to step in, Jax may get hurt. And if someone tries to take Bauchman out, there’s a risk of the gun in his hand going off. “Dad, what can we do?” I worriedly ask. “That’s Jax over there.”

Dad hums to himself and I see he’s trying to figure out what to do. But an ear-splitting yell from Bauchman fills the room. Looking back at him, I see Jax’s fingers pinching down on the space between Bauchman’s thumb and index finger. With him momentarily distracted, Jax slips out of Bauchman’s grasp. But while I think he’s about to duck out of the way, the exact opposite happens.

Jax takes hold of Bauchman’s wrist and with a sharp twist, shatters it. Bauchman falls to his knees in agony and Jax brings his foot up and kicks Bauchman’s elbow, bending it the wrong way. Bauchman starts to raise his gun toward Jax. But with a swift punch to the face, the gun flies from Bauchman’s hand.

With amazing dexterity, Jax snags the gun out of the air and points it right at Bauchman’s head. “I’ll see you in Hell,” he declares before a gunshot rings out.

Bauchman falls back, dead as a doornail. The gun falls from Jax’s hand and the room I completely silent. And I know everyone is feeling the same exact thing from watching that. All of a sudden, I see Jax’s knees start to go weak and he collapses to the floor. “Jax!”

I drop my shotgun and rush for him. Falling to my knees next to him, I press my fingers to his throat for a pulse. Okay, good. There’s a strong pulse and he’s breathing. “It’s likely from shock, son.”

Looking up, I find Dad standing next to me. “He’ll be okay,” he continues. “He just needs someone to patch him up and he probably needs to sleep for a couple hours.”

Nodding, I slip my arms underneath him and lift him up. “Saber and Midnight?” I ask, not taking my eyes off Jax.

“They’re with some of my men outside, being cleaned. They’re covered in mud for some reason and stink like hell.” Just as I feel he’s about to leave, I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. “You did good, son. It was against my orders, but you did really good.”

Warmth fills my chest. “Thanks, Dad.”

As people start taking care of the dead bodies around us, Dad, Victor and I walk outside, Jackson soundly asleep in my arms.

----------------

“Sir, no matter what I do I can’t get the surveillance systems back online.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Trent, this is the second technical issue we’ve had in the last few weeks. Why is this happening?”

“I’m actually not sure, sir. After the last issue, I did a full system check. Everything was working fine, but now I can’t even get a single camera to operate correctly.”

Setting down my folder, I walk over to Trent’s desk and look over his shoulder. Every single video screen is black with a bright red error message in the corner. “What is the meaning of this, Trent?” I ask.

“I’m trying everything I can to fix it, sir. But I feel this isn’t a technical issue and rather someone is causing this interference.”

“Someone is interfering with our feed?”

“It seems so.”

“Did you try unplugging it and plugging it back in?”

Trent looks up at me with an incredibly unenthusiastic face. “Sir, I’m a cyber defense major with a minor in computer science. I can tell when something needs to be unplugged and plugged back in.”

Trent turns back to his monitors, inputting several different things that are beyond my comprehension. I walk back to my desk and press my intercom. “Boys, I need you in my office. Now.”

Taking a seat on the edge of my desk, I wait patiently until there’s a knock at my door and in walk Pierce and Thorn. “What’s going on?” Pierce asks.

“Surveillance has gone down again. Do either of you have a clue as to why?”

The two glance at one another. “Not a clue. Tech stuff isn’t my thing,” Thorn says.

“Do you think it’s being tampered with?” Pierce asks.

“That’s what I’m starting to get at. I know for a fact our equipment is top of the line. It would take a hell of a lot to take it down. If we don’t get it back up soon, I’m going to want at least one of you to go and get a walk-by on it.”

Both of them groan. “Dad, come on,” Thorn says. “That kind of thing is grunt stuff. Why should we have to do it?”

My hand grips the edge of my desk. “Because I feel that either of you can get me better information than any grunt can,” I lie.

Before either of them can talk, Trent falls back in his chair with a sigh of relief. “Sir, it’s just come back online.”

Finally. “Good. Thank you Trent.”

“It looks like while we couldn’t see what was happening live, the cameras managed to record what was going on. I’ll review it for you.”

Trent types away and I’m left with my sons. “Well, now that that’s settled, I think the day is just about done for all of us. Anything either of you would like to comment on?”

“There’s this prosecutor down at the D.A.’s office that I had a good conversation with,” Pierce says. “He and I may have a few cases against each other in the future.”

“I just studied stock trends today, trying to find out what’s the best to invest in soon.”

“As long it was productive,” I tell them. “Now for tomorrow, I want-”

The sound of someone nearly choking grabs my attention and I see Trent spitting his water into a trashcan next to his desk. “Trent, what’s the matter?”

He coughs for a moment before catching his breath. “Sir, all of you are going to want to look at this.”

Just the tone of his voice tells me it’s urgent. I walk over to his desk, Pierce and Thorn behind me. “This was recorded from earlier in the day,” Trent tells me.

He presses a key on his keyboard and the recording plays. On the screen, I see Jackson walking around his apartment, nothing unusual. Pierce and Thorn know I’ve been doing this for a while now. “Looks normal, Trent,” Thorn says. “What’s the issue?”

Trent stays silent. The recording plays and I see Jackson walk into his bathroom. He stays in there for a few minutes before finally coming out. But I notice that Jackson isn’t the one coming out of the bathroom. A man in a black ski mask does instead. “What the ever-loving fuck?!” I roar. “How did no one notice someone enter his apartment?!”

The man in the video walks over to the door and in walk two other men wheeling in a wooden crate. Two of the man go to the bathroom and carry an unconscious Jackson into the living room and stuff him into the crate. My stomach drops to my feet at the sight, but I manage to control my breathing.

Taking a second to get my thoughts together, I look at Trent. “I want that box analyzed right now,” I tell him. “Find every single possible lead you can with it. Get video feed from the outside of the building and every possible exit. I want to know where that crate went.”

“Um…sir? That won’t be necessary.”

“Why the hell not, Trent?”

“Because Jackson is back in his apartment, sir.”

What the hell? Looking back at the screen, I see Trent has returned to the live feed. And sure enough, Jackson is lying asleep in his bed. “Is the some kind of joke?” Pierce asks.

“Pretty sick joke if you ask me,” Thorn follows up.

I shush the both of them the focus all of my attention on the screens. Something catches my eye on one of the screens and I find someone standing in Jackson’s kitchen. “Trent, go to that one.”

Trent enlarges the screen and I see the person in better detail. Is he…making a sandwich? “Trent, run a photo analysis on that man,” I tell him. “Find what you…”

“Already on it, sir.” Trent types furiously at his keyboard and on one of his screens, a driver’s license photo comes up. “Name is Cashel Davis, 26 years old. Here are some links to his social media pages as well.”

“So why the hell does he know, Jax?” Pierce asks.

“Maybe he’s a fag too…” Thorn says.

Next to me, I can feel Trent tense. Glancing down at him, I find him biting his tongue and…is he actually angry? I’ve never seen anything remotely like that from Trent as long as he’s worked for me. “Trent, please focus,” I say.

He clears his throat and goes back to work. “Not much I can say about him, sir. His presence is fairly normal, only basic information about him.”

I look back at the screen and find the man, Cashel, putting the sandwich in the fridge and walking into the living room and falling onto the couch. He kicks off his shoes and props his feet up and drapes a blanket over himself. “Spending the night it looks like, sir.”

“Keep an eye on him, Trent. But start tomorrow. You can head home. Be here no later than 10:00.”

“Yes, sir.”

Trent hits the record button and starts to gather his things. “Boys, you can go home too. I have a few things I need to finish up before I go.”

“Nice,” Thorn says. “See you tomorrow, Dad.”

He and Pierce leave the office a little before Trent, who has his phone pressed to his ear. Walking back to my desk, I organize what few papers I have on it and slide the folders into a drawer. I shut off my light and grab my briefcase and lock my door behind me and make my way for the elevators.

As I’m about to turn the corner, a voice catches my attention. “I fucking hate it here, Dad…”

Trent? Walking slowly to the corner, I peek around to find Trent pressed against the wall, phone still to his ear. “Do you know how hard it is to hear what some of these people say?” he continues. “I want to at least stand up to them and defend you, but…two of them are my boss’s kids. I don’t want to risk losing my job.”

What the hell is he talking about? “Dad, my boss even calls his gay son a fag a lot. How am I supposed to react to that? I want to quit so badly, but…but I know we need the money right now. Especially with…you know…”

The tone of his voice suddenly changes. “How’s his treatment going? That’s good. Is he in any pain? Wish I could come out and see you both, but I don’t have a vacation for a few more weeks. What did the doctors say? Well as long as it isn’t getting worse, I’m happy with it. Dad, I need to get going or I’ll miss the subway.

“Tell Dad I love him and I’ll see him soon. Call you tomorrow? Okay. Night Dad. Love you too.”

Trent hangs up his cell phone and turns to face the wall. I find him looking at a single framed painting. He takes the painting off the hook and carefully sets it down before making a fist and punching right through the drywall, making me jump at the sudden action. Trent breathes carefully for a moment before putting the painting back on the wall, directly in front of the hole.

He shakes the drywall flakes off his hand before pressing the call button for the elevator and stepping on. As the door closes, I step out of my hiding spot and gaze around. I don’t remember this lobby having so many frames on the walls. And…did Trent say Dad while he was talking to his father? Trent has two dads?

 And what the hell did he mean by ‘treatment?’ God, I’m too tired to deal with this right now. I call for an elevator and as I’m standing and waiting, I start to feel this overwhelming feeling in my chest. And for me, it doesn’t seem like it’s going away any time soon.