John scoffed incredulously, "The boy."
Bobby scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He glanced down the stairs and locked eyes with John, whose glare was growing by the second. Finally he gave up completely and rolled his eyes. "Come on, John, I don't even know what you're talking about," he lied, hoping that John would drop the subject. Unfortunately for him, he didn't.
"Tell me you haven't taken him!"
"Look, son..." Bobby tried again, attempting to placate John, but it only served to anger him further, "the boy isn’t hurting', okay? He isn’t nowhere near here! We weren't even supposed tubing 'imp back yet, remember? Now I don't understand why we got to go through all this hassle."
"He is my son and I will find him. And he better be alive. Or I swear to God you'll pay dearly," John
