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1698 Words
"It's all your fault!” Jonah screamed as he grabbed for his half-sister. She dodged, making him even angrier. “If you hadn't interfered, I would have gotten him all to myself!"
As his wife moved to pity her baby boy, Mr. Cranston pulled her back. "That's enough of that. Jonah tried to physically harm another student because he is obsessed with him. He's twenty-three, Greta. He needs to grow up."
"The other man should have just said yes! Would it have been so hard to just give in?" the woman scoffed.
"Are you even listening to yourself?" Erika cried out. "It's your fault he's so entitled. Sure, just give Jonah everything he wants, right? Just tell him yes because he's mommy's precious baby boy. Mommy’s little angel."
Greta snarled at the young woman, "You were a mistake, Erika. If your father hadn't screwed around, you wouldn't even be here."
Silence filled the room. Erika shook her head sadly as she gathered her things. "I don't see how the circumstances of my birth give you the right to condone criminal behavior. Goodnight, Dad.”
Standing up, Greta tried to stop her step-daughter. "Where are you going? I didn't dismiss you, you freeloading bastard!"
"Let her go, Greta," Bennett said from his place at the head of the table. "We were fine living the way we do, but you had to tell him to take what he wanted, the cost be damned. Well, you've gone and damned us now, Greta."
"What do you mean, Ben? Who has our son hurt that it's made you this afraid?" she asked, pleading for answers.
Ben swallowed. "The son of David Marks. He's not the kind of man I would ever want to cross. He works for the mob, and I'm not entirely sure that we will ever be safe again."
The doorbell rang, but Bennett remained in his seat. Calling out, he said, "Erika, honey, can you get the door for me?"
"We have a maid, Bennett," Greta rebuked.
Ben cleared his throat. "I let her go."
"I don't know how to do housework!"
"Then I suggest you learn," Ben countered dryly.
Followed closely by two burly men, Erika walked into the room. "Dad, they’re here for Jonah."
“Who do you think you are?” Greta gasped in horror. "You can't just waltz in here and take my baby!"
"That decision, Mrs. Cranston, is no longer yours," a new voice said darkly.
Ben nodded. "I’ve been expecting you, Mr. Hansson. I assume that he will be well looked after?"
"That depends on his next reaction. He could very well die tonight, and I wouldn’t give a f**k. One of my in-training, the son of my Shield, was harmed. I take that s**t personally, you see," Callum said as he stepped closer. Splaying his fingers over the tabletop, he leaned over. "Boris, bring him in."
Jonah looked up, a crazed gleam flashing in his eyes as the teen in question was brought to Callum. "Jaxon, you came to save me, right? You came to help me?"
"I’m only here to make sure you understand that I really do have a boyfriend, and I’m really not interested in you. Period," Jaxon advised.
Watching his son, Bennett noticed him move before anyone else. Letting out a strangled cry, he tried to grab Jonah. His shout snared the attention of the guards. Unfortunately, it wasn't in time to stop the unstable man from grabbing the teen around the neck.
Jonah raised his fist, revealing a steak knife from the table. Holding the tip to Jaxon’s neck, he said, “Don’t come any closer. If I can’t have him, no one will! He’s mine! Mine!”
Oddly, Jaxon remained calm as several of his soldiers aimed their weapons at the pair. No one moved, as if trying to avoid being the one to accidentally harm Jaxon in the crossfire. Callum raised a blond brow, impressed with how far the boy had come. At that moment, he was entertaining the idea of raising Russell’s status to junior trainer.
A loud bang resounded off the walls, shocking everyone as Jonah fell to the floor, blood pooling on the tiles from the hole in his shoulder. Rolling out of harm’s way, Jaxon looked at something behind the mob leader.
Glancing around, Callum noticed a girl standing on shaky legs. Her hands were wrapped around the butt of a gun as she sobbed, clearly shaken by her own actions. He crossed the floor, gently taking the weapon from her. “Look at me.”
Her gaze met his, the panic over her actions rising like the swell of a tsunami in her silvery eyes. Callum took a breath, silently thanking his father's training in dealing with these kinds of situations. There were times he felt that the training was useless, yet now, he found it highly convenient. Without looking away, he called out to his men. "Deisel, status?"
"He's still breathing, Sir. The bullet grazed his shoulder, but it was enough to stop him."
Hooking a finger under her chin, he said, "You did well to stop him, Erika. Your actions will be rewarded."
Her head dropped as she passed out from the shock. Picking her up, he turned to the couple at the table. "I'm taking your daughter, Ben. Mrs. Cranson, I suggest you cut the crap, and start taking this seriously."
He nudged the tip of his boot against the man on the floor. Satisfied that he was no longer a threat to Jaxon's life, Callum issued his orders as he left the house. “Grab him. Bring him to the warehouse.”
“Handling instructions, Sir?”
“Do whatever need to be done. Jax, let’s go,” Callum called as he headed for the door.
Letting out a sigh, the teen followed the man dutifully.
As soon as they were gone, Greta turned to her husband. Furious that he’d done absolutely nothing to save their son, let alone his bastard daughter, she grabbed her glass and threw it at him. It missed, smashing into the wall instead. “What is wrong with you?”
“Had you listened to me before, this would not have happened. As it is, Erika is right. You’ve gone and damned us simply by overindulging our son all his life. The maid? I let her go, mostly because Jonah assaulted her several times, but you did nothing. You told my daughter, his own sister, to shut up and put up with his advances even though what he was doing to her was morally and socially wrong.” Getting to his feet, Bennett looked out at the lawn.
More dishes were smashed behind him as his wife of twenty-five years raged. Shaking his head, he turned to her. “Are you quite done taking your tantrum?”
“That little b***h should never have been born! I let him go after her to teach her not to mess with my family. It’s all bad enough you had her with your mistress, but you brought her here to live in her last months of pregnancy, too! I wish the brat would have died with her pathetic mother when I pushed her over the damn stairs that day!”
His jaw dropped at the revelation. “You… but you said that she tripped and fell? You told me that you heard a bang, and found her at the base of the stairs, bleeding, and took her to the hospital.”
“I f*****g lied, asshole! I shoved that scheming slut over the stairs, hoping that it killed the baby, too, but no! That bastard child you had with Nancy goddam Grant went and f*****g survived!” Greta suddenly fell quiet as she spotted the man standing in the shadows of the room. Knowing that he’d probably heard everything, she knew to stay silent for now.
The tip of a cigarette glowing brightly outlined his features as David stepped into the light. “Nice evening, isn’t it, Ben? You can actually see the stars from your driveway in this location.”
Fear grabbed him in an icy, vice-like grip as Bennett tried to formulate a response. Finally, he said, “Yes, yes it is, Mr. Marks. Your boss and son just left.”
David’s gaze flickered to Greta. “I’m here for her. The police just received an anonymous tip from a concerned citizen about the shouting and sounds of things breaking at your house.”
Scared, the woman ran for the stairs. Unbothered by her reaction, David allowed her to rush around. When she finally came back down, she smirked at him. “I’m the one being abused! Look at this! Look at the bruises!”
Grabbing the decanter of water from the table, David doused her with it. “Well, that’s a pity. Looks like they were faked with make-up, and not very well, mind you. Bennett, you have forty-eight hours to make up your mind. The Veiðimenn never hunt for fun, but we do hunt when we have to. I’m being lenient, and my boss has granted me a free pass as it was my boy that was targeted. That said, if you make the right decision, you live. If you make the wrong decision… well, let’s just say there won’t be a way out of that one.”
“I don’t need time, Mr. Marks. I’m sorry about what happened, and I don't blame you from a father’s standpoint. I just want to know that my daughter will be okay.”
A brown brow went up. “My son and his best friend have vouched for her, so that’s a yes. Otherwise, it would have been a no unless she saves herself. You said you didn’t need time? Why is that?”
“Because I wish to divorce this greedy, lazy, entitled brat of a woman and have her charged with the death of Nancy Grant. I was in love with Nancy, and planning to divorce Greta anyway, but things went south, and I didn’t want my daughter to be without a mother. My mistake from the beginning,” Bennett explained.
- Writer
