Chapter 2 - The Video Proved Rebecca Was Watching, Not Participating—But She Had Been Ordered to Get Something From Jake Before ChristmasJake survived surgery.
Barely.
It was nearly noon before Dr. Levin came out.
“He's stable.”
My shoulders dropped.
“Conscious?”
“Not yet.”
“Brain damage?”
“We won't know until he wakes.”
I nodded.
“Can I see him?”
“Five minutes.”
I entered the room alone.
Jake looked smaller than he had that morning.
Machines surrounded him.
One side of his face was swollen.
His arm was immobilized.
I sat beside him.
For years, I had worried about him in normal ways.
Grades.
Friends.
Girls.
Bad decisions.
Driving too fast.
Now I was afraid of something completely different.
What if my son woke up and couldn't remember Christmas?
What if he remembered everything?
What if he remembered his mother standing there while seventeen people beat him?
I touched his hand.
“You don't have to forgive anyone.”
His fingers didn't move.
“You don't have to understand them.”
Nothing.
“You just have to wake up.”
I stayed there for an hour.
When I returned to the operations room, my men had found more information.
Rebecca hadn't called 911.
One of her brothers did.
After they finished.
That mattered.
They had expected Jake to survive.
The beating hadn't been intended to kill him.
The security report showed Rebecca making six phone calls that morning.
Five to her family.
One to an unknown number.
That number belonged to Elias Grant.
I stared.
“Find him.”
My security chief shook his head.
“We've tried.”
“And?”
“No current records.”
“Bank accounts?”
“Nothing.”
“Phones?”
“Nothing.”
“Vehicles?”
“Nothing.”
Then Vincent stepped forward.
“We found something else.”
He placed a folder on the table.
Inside was a photograph of Jake at eighteen months old.
Rebecca was holding him.
Elias stood behind her.
The date was two weeks after Jake's birth.
I stared at the photograph.
I remembered that period.
Rebecca had told me Elias was a friend of her family.
I had seen him once.
Then he supposedly died.
“What was his relationship with Rebecca?”
“Unknown.”
I turned the photograph over.
Written on the back:
THE BOY IS THE KEY.
I felt cold.
“What key?”
Vincent said:
“We don't know.”
Then another document arrived.
A copy of Jake's birth certificate.
Nothing unusual.
Until the reverse side.
Someone had stamped a symbol.
A circle with a line through the center.
I recognized it.
Elias's old symbol.
He had used it twenty years earlier.
A private network.
Not a gang.
Not exactly.
A group of wealthy families who traded secrets, favors, money, and access.
I had fought them once.
Elias had worked for them.
I thought they were gone.
Apparently not.
I looked at the birth certificate.
“What would Jake have that they need?”
Nobody answered.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
“His blood.”
I turned.
Rebecca was standing there.
Two guards held her arms.
She looked exhausted.
Her lip was split.
One side of her face bruised.
She had been found two hours earlier trying to leave the state.
I walked toward her.
“You ordered it.”
She shook her head.
“I didn't have a choice.”
“Seventeen people.”
“They weren't supposed to hurt him that badly.”
“That's what you have to say?”
She began crying.
“I told them to scare him.”
“Why?”
“I needed him to give me something.”
“What?”
She looked at the floor.
“I can't tell you.”
I stepped closer.
“If you don't tell me, Jake's blood will be on your hands forever.”
She whispered:
“He has a key.”
“To what?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
I slapped the folder onto the table.
“Elias Grant.”
She froze.
That reaction told me everything.
“You know he's alive.”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he saved me.”
I stared.
“He saved you?”
“Fifteen years ago.”
“From what?”
She looked at me.
“From you.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca cried.
“I was never supposed to leave you.”
I didn't understand.
“What?”
“Elias told me to marry you.”
My blood ran cold.
“Why?”
“Because they needed access to you.”
“Who?”
She wouldn't answer.
Then Jake's monitor alarm sounded down the hall.
Everyone froze.
I ran.
He was awake.
Barely.
His eyes opened.
“Dad?”
I grabbed his hand.
“I'm here.”
His eyes moved toward Rebecca.
“She…”
His voice broke.
“Don't.”
I leaned closer.
“Tell me what you remember.”
His lips trembled.
“She wasn't angry.”
“Who?”
“Mom.”
“Then why?”
He swallowed.
“She was scared.”
I looked at Rebecca.
Jake continued.
“She kept saying…”
He struggled for breath.
“…that if I didn't give them the box…”
He closed his eyes.
“…they'd kill you.”
My stomach dropped.
“What box?”
Jake whispered:
“The one Grandpa gave me.”
Then he lost consciousness again.
I looked at Rebecca.
She was crying.
And suddenly I understood why seventeen people had beaten my son.
They weren't trying to punish him.
May you like
They were trying to force him to reveal something he had been protecting for years.
Something I had never even known existed.
Related Stories
