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

by Morticia Knight

  Malcolm scrubbed his face with both hands then shook them out. Yeah, he could see their point. Still didn’t mean he’d let them near Seth if they were going to accuse him of shit.

  Detective Smith regarded Nate then Malcolm. “Can we continue? We’ll put any questions regarding the veracity of Seth’s story to the side. If we met with him, we’d probably understand better why you’re both so certain he’s telling the truth.” Malcolm glared at him and the detective held up his hands, palms out. “I know, I know. I see your point of view on this as well, believe me. I’ve dealt with many victims over the years and seen how hard it is for them to come back from trauma.”

  Malcolm narrowed his eyes. He didn’t trust the detectives, but he also realized they were the only hope they had of Seth ever getting any justice.

  “Fine. I’ll agree to continue under the condition we don’t discuss Seth’s honesty or setting up a meeting with him. I’m not saying an interview is out of the question, but he’d have to agree to it and that’s not happening today.”

  Detective Smith nodded. “Deal.”

  Everyone took their seats again and Malcolm grabbed one of the water bottles Nate had set out. He broke the seal and took a swig. When he got back home, he’d be grabbing a shot of bourbon. Malcolm swiped the back of his hand across his lips.

  “All right, you mentioned…” Malcolm was still a bit worked up, so he had to take a second to recall how Lopez had phrased it. “…an education center? Is that where the conversion camp is?”

  Detective Lopez tapped his pen against the stack of papers. “Don’t know. Like I said, we’ve never been able to get a search warrant based on prior complaints. But from what I know of the church’s holdings, that center would be the most likely place for one. It used to be a parochial school—different religion.”

  Malcolm straightened. “That has to be it! Seth told me that where he was held used to be a school.”

  Both Lopez and Smith made some notes. Detective Lopez glanced back up.

  “Since we can’t speak with Seth right now, could you perhaps ask him to write up a description of where he was held? Any details he can give us would be of great help. Even drawing a map—labeling different locations and what their purpose was—would go a long way toward helping us out.”

  Malcolm held in a groan. The request was a reasonable one. But it would likely trigger Seth. No matter what he did, no matter how hard Malcolm tried to protect him from his past, he realized that Seth would have to be involved in the investigation. Even if his participation was minimal, the process would be agonizing for him.

  With a sigh, Malcolm nodded with resignation. “I can do that.”

  He dreaded facing Seth that night, telling him what the detectives wanted. But he was Seth’s Daddy, and he’d be there for him through whatever fallout the memories triggered.

  He’d take care of his boy.

  Chapter Seven

  As Seth folded the towels, he stacked them on the sofa to be put away. He’d already made up the bed with the freshly washed sheets and as soon as the towels were in the hall cupboard where they belonged, he’d start on the vegetables.

  Then what?

  Daddy hadn’t texted him for almost two hours, ever since he’d said he was leaving Nate’s office. Sure, he’d mentioned he had to make a quick stop on the way home, but two hours? Seth’s shoulders slumped. He hated how needy he was being. Usually when Daddy went out, he’d give Seth an approximate time when he’d be back and only text if he was going to be much later than anticipated. No big deal.

  But today was different. Today, he’d be hearing what the detectives from Idaho had to say about the church.

  About my father.

  He dropped on the sofa, some of the folded towels toppling over as he did. The one subject he avoided thinking about at all costs was his father. On occasion he’d have no choice but to face the demons of his past. Either a nightmare or other event would trigger a memory of the man who’d filled his life with unending hatred—like when he and Daddy had gone into the toy store. Or, when he’d discussed some of his issues with Dr. Clay.

  However, he didn’t see the point in dwelling on what his father had done to him. Obsessing about the past and regretting what’d happened did nothing to help him now or in the future. Even Dr. Clay had agreed that regret or feeling sorry for himself wasn’t healthy. Instead, they were focusing on the result of his trauma and how they could assist him in overcoming his negative thoughts.

  Seth refolded one of the towels that had tumbled off the stack. The threat of having to speak to the detectives terrified him. What if he broke down, was a blubbering mess? They’d think he was crazy and never believe his story. And having to go through every detail of his life and the conversion therapy? Reliving it for Malcolm had been awful, but his Daddy had been there to comfort him. Not that Daddy wouldn’t be by his side through everything. Seth knew he wouldn’t let him endure that alone. But sharing such horrible things to strangers, to people who might not approve or understand what being gay in that oppressive environment meant—that was the scariest part.

  Seth set down the folded towel then ran his fingers through his hair. His father had to pay. The church members who’d committed cruel acts had to pay. But more than anything, they had to be stopped. Seth knew without a doubt there were children, men and women being tortured and abused in the name of God at that very moment.

  Seth regarded the remaining laundry and realized he had to quit dragging his heels and finish his task. It wouldn’t normally have taken him so long, but he hadn’t wanted to be without the distraction of the chores in case Daddy hadn’t returned yet.

  There’s still the vegetables to chop.

  Anything to keep his mind from wandering to what the detectives and Daddy had been discussing all day.

  With a renewed sense of purpose, Seth made quick work of the towels. He ambled to the kitchen then went to the chrome, double-sided refrigerator. That was where Daddy had hung the list of vegetables he wanted sliced up before he returned. Seth lifted the magnet that showed a picture of Mount Hood so he could see what was written at the top. He grinned at how Daddy’s note began: “Sweet boy, could you please…”

  He’d never tire of being treated so special.

  After gathering the red and green bell peppers, onion, carrots, mushrooms and setting them on the counter, he grabbed the thick, wood cutting board and knife they used for chopping from the butcher block. Seth had just finished rinsing off the peppers when the sound of the front door opening and closing caught his attention. He whipped his head around and dropped a pepper on the floor. His heart seemed to jump into his throat, the sensation making him feel as if he were being strangled.

  Daddy.

  He took a few breaths to calm himself. Conflicting emotions because of Daddy’s return assailed him. The thrill that Daddy was home warred with the fear of what he’d learn about the interview with the detectives.

  Seth retrieved the fallen vegetable then set it aside to wash again when he returned. With trembling hands, he wiped his fingers on a kitchen towel so he could greet Daddy properly. Right as he was about to exit the kitchen, Daddy came around the corner and they almost ran into each other.

  “Whoa,” Daddy gathered Seth in his arms. “How’s my precious boy doing?”

  Seth inhaled Daddy’s scent, nuzzling his neck as he squeezed his middle. “Much better, now that you’re here.”

  They held each other in silence, neither one of them seemingly anxious to let the other go. Seth knew he wasn’t. Letting go meant finding out what the detectives had said.

  Daddy pressed a kiss to his temple, patting his behind as he released his hold. However, he did lace their fingers together. Seth held on tight. He’d been without Daddy all day. He could be needy for a little while longer.

  “Did you get all your tasks done?”

  Seth shoved his free hand into the pocket of his sweatpants. “Almost.”

  Daddy peered past his shou
lder. “Ah. The vegetables still need to be chopped, I see.” He regarded Seth. “Is everything all right? I was gone quite a while. It shouldn’t have been a problem to get them done in that amount of time.”

  His incessant insecurity slammed into him. “Are you mad?”

  “God, no. Not even a bit.” Daddy wrapped his arm around Seth’s shoulder. “Leave them for now. I know you want to hear about what happened with the detectives, so let’s go to the den and relax for a bit.”

  “Relax?” He doubted it.

  “I know. But we need a chance to reconnect—at least I do.”

  Seth’s chest tightened. “So do I, seriously. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I wasn’t interested in sitting with you.”

  Daddy gave him a soft smile as he stroked Seth’s hair back from his forehead. “I didn’t take it that way. Actually, relax might not have been the best word choice on my part. But reconnect? I believe that’s accurate.”

  Seth nodded. “Me too.”

  Daddy led him by his hand to the den and guided him to the sofa. “Have a seat, sweetheart. I’m going to grab myself a drink. Would you like some seltzer?”

  The room housed a small bar with a mini fridge behind it. While Seth still didn’t care for flavored sodas, he liked having a seltzer with a slice of lime on occasion.

  “Are there any water bottles in the fridge?”

  Daddy disappeared behind the bar for a second while he dipped down to check. He popped back up with a bottle in hand. “There’re two left. We’ll have to remember to restock before bed.”

  While Daddy poured himself a dark whiskey in a tumbler, Seth tried not to blurt out a million questions. Especially since he rarely saw him drink anything other than wine, so it must mean Daddy was under his own stress. He imagined Daddy used to drink a lot of the other liquors, because there were so many different types on the top of the bar. Whatever Daddy had dealt with that day was making him want something more than a glass of wine.

  Daddy toed off his loafers next to the bar then padded over to the sofa and handed Seth his water before sitting down. Then, he knocked back a healthy swallow of his drink, setting the tumbler on the end table at his side. Smiling, he lifted one of Seth’s legs, then hooked it over one of his own. He rested his arm across Seth’s thigh and grabbed his glass with the other hand.

  “There.” Daddy sighed. “Much better.”

  Seth chewed his lip. “Was it very bad today? You were gone so long, I got worried.”

  “Hmm.” Daddy nodded as he took another sip of his drink. “I apologize for that, Seth. I meant to come straight home after I texted you from Nate’s, other than stopping to pick up a bottle of my favorite bourbon.” Daddy arched his eyebrows as he raised his glass. “But then I got to thinking. The booze is my pick-me-up, something I need once in a while. Not need as in I’m addicted, but if I want something to help me relax, then whiskey is my go-to.” He took another sip. “Plus, it tastes damn fine.”

  “That’s okay. I wasn’t being nosy. I was only worried.”

  “Well, that part’s not okay. It’s my responsibility as your Daddy to help your worry go away—not add to it. So, I’m very sorry, sweetheart. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

  Daddy drained his glass then set it on the table again. “Anyway, I got to thinking as I drove to the liquor store, that you don’t have anything like that. At least, I don’t think you do. You don’t drink or smoke—and before you comment—I’m not advocating you begin. But everyone has something they use to let off steam. I don’t know…” Malcolm waved a hand around. “Like jogging or yoga or adult coloring books.” Daddy drew his eyebrows together as he regarded him. “Does working out help you let off steam? That’s another thing that works well for me.”

  Seth nodded. “Yeah, sometimes. When I was in Idaho, that’s how I’d release my anger or frustration. Either by using weights, since I didn’t have a gym or all this other stuff like you have, or hiking. I did a lot of hiking.”

  “Mmm.” Daddy narrowed his eyes. “Yes, the outdoors. Being in the outdoors is definitely a release for then. That’s true for me as well. Of course, the weather dictates when we can indulge.”

  Seth chuckled. “And that’s when you use the whiskey instead?”

  Daddy laughed. “Something like that. But at least we have the treadmill and Nautilus machine in the garage, right?”

  “Yeah.” Seth picked at his pant leg. “So…why did that make you take so long?”

  Daddy snorted as he patted Seth’s hand. “Yeah, I’m all over the place, aren’t I?” He tipped back his head. “What a day.” He regarded Seth again. “I got it in my head that you have to have something that’s only for you, something that could be your go-to when you need immediate comfort. I’m hoping my idea was a good one.” He tilted his head. “Seth, do you still pray?”

  Seth sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn’t prayed since the night he broke free of the camp. Not even when he was scared at the motel. Part of his reasoning was that since he’d reached the conclusion that God hated gay people, and he couldn’t stop being gay, that God didn’t want to hear from him. He’d read the torn-up Bible in the drawer—partly because it was there and partly because he thought there might be something about being gay he’d overlooked. Maybe his father and the church had hidden those passages from him. The verses where God and Jesus said being gay didn’t matter, that love was all that counted.

  But he couldn’t talk to God. Not after He’d left him at the mercy of his father for all those years.

  Seth swallowed back the emotion threatening to choke him. “No. I don’t pray.”

  “I won’t push, sweetheart. Not if you don’t want to discuss that subject right now. But from what you’ve shared with me already, praying was a constant for most of your life. I think it would be wise, when you’re ready, to explore that topic with Dr. Clay or Pastor Callum.”

  Seth swiped his hand under his nose and nodded. “I know you’re right. But I’m not ready.”

  “That’s fine, baby. There’s time.”

  Seth wiggled on the sofa then clutched Daddy’s arm. Daddy had taken off his suit jacket, but still wore the pale blue dress shirt, sans tie, and his charcoal grey slacks. Seth figured he must’ve headed to the bedroom for a minute so he could take them off.

  “Those detectives want me to testify, don’t they?”

  Daddy moved Seth’s leg then cradled him, lifting him onto his lap. Seth cuddled up to Daddy, laying his head on his shoulder and curling his fingers in Daddy’s shirt. It was if he was hanging on so he wouldn’t fall.

  “If things get that far, yes.”

  “What?” Seth frowned. What do you mean, if they get that far?”

  “We’re not at that point yet, baby.” Daddy played his fingers across Seth’s back. “They still have to do their investigation and that could take a while. Right now, what they really want from you is everything you can tell them about what went on when you were growing up. Especially when you were being held at the camp. Every detail you can provide will bring them that much closer to ensuring your father and the church are brought to justice. That they won’t ever hurt anyone again.”

  “Oh God…” Seth thought he might be sick.

  “I know, sweetheart. I know.” Daddy kept up his soft caresses, never stopped touching, soothing him. “I told them you had to agree to speak with them, or it was a no-go. The choice is yours alone.”

  “And if I don’t tell them everything, give them those details, then they’ll stop the investigation? Won’t even try to go after the church?”

  “Well, I don’t think they’ll stop entirely. But the detectives did say they needed the information you can provide, or else they didn’t think they’d have enough to go on to either get search warrants or make arrests.”

  Seth’s head pounded and his heart hammered so hard, he thought it might explode. Dr. Clay had explained about the panic attacks, that they could seem as bad as a heart attack.

  “So,
my father and all those evil snakes would probably get away with everything they did to me and everyone else? They’d never pay for their sins?”

  Daddy kissed the top of his head. “Maybe. Judging by what the investigators told me, you’re the first person who made it out of there who they’d be able to get a statement from. You’re the best potential source of information they’ve ever had to go after the church.”

  Seth wrapped his arms around Daddy’s neck and held on tight. Daddy’s touches never stopped, and Seth wished he could drown in them. Simply drift away, cocooned in the warmth of the only person other than his mother who had ever truly shown him love. He’d never have peace if he didn’t do everything he could to gain closure. To end the horror once and for all. To heal. To live a beautiful life with his Daddy.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll tell them whatever they want to know.”

  “Such a brave boy.”

  Daddy rocked him, held him close and whispered how proud he was and that he’d be there for him through it all. They stayed clinched in each other’s arms for several minutes until their heartbeats seemed to match. Then Daddy’s stomach rumbled, and Seth remembered how he’d been so self-involved that he hadn’t gotten the vegetables ready.

  Seth lifted his head. “You must be starving. I should go chop up the vegetables.”

  Daddy framed his face with his palms. “No, you shouldn’t. You should see what I brought home for you. Then I’ll go chop the vegetables and make the stir fry.”

  “But—”

  Daddy placed a finger over Seth’s lips. “Daddy says so.” He smiled and gave Seth a peck on the end of his nose. “Trust me.”

  “Of course, Daddy. Always.” Seth bit his lip. He didn’t dare say he was sorry, but there had to be another way to say the same thing without losing his reward. “I’m only thinking that I didn’t follow through on what you asked.”

  Daddy gently scooted out from under Seth then brought them both to their feet. “Did you do your math?”