Page 31 of Body Slave

With more calm than he felt, Ben turned back to his father. “Do we have a deal?”

“A deal? Let me get this straight. You’re offering to do everything that I’ve practically begged you to do since you came home. And it’s not because you want to please me, or help me, or honor your mother’s memory. No,” his father shouted. “It’s because you want this slut!” He flung a hand in the slave’s direction.

Panting heavily, his father paced away. His hands came up to tug at his hair. “You’re willing to change your life to get some worthless piece of ass slave that you could buy anywhere.”

When he turned back to glare at Ben, his face had turned an even brighter shade of red than before and his eyes practically bugged out. “I don’t fucking believe it.” He started laughing, that hysterical kind that always freaks people out in movies, as if he’d lost his mind. “I bet you think you’re in love with him, don’t you? Like some fucking tearjerker romance movie. I knew you were too soft where slaves were concerned, but I didn’t think you were plain soft in the head.”

His father took a deep and wheezing breath. “No! That’s my answer. I’ll never sell this cunt to you, or give him to you. I don’t care what you do. You’ve been nothing but disrespectful to me since your mother died. I don’t want you working for me. I don’t want….”

He took another hard breath then leaned over. His hands clutched at his chest and his knees gave out. “Get out.” Wheeze. “Get out of my house.”

Ben didn’t wait for his father to fall face down on the rug before rushing to his side and turning him over. “Call an ambulance!” he called out to Oliver before he ripped his father’s shirt open and started CPR.

****

He’d killed his father. That’s what Ben thought as the night dragged on without any further updates from the trauma team. Coronary episode was the one thing he’d been told hours ago after they’d arrived at the hospital. Now he sat with his ass and mind numb, waiting to hear the bad news. Despite all of the turmoil between them, he didn’t want his father to die. Losing one parent a year was plenty. Harder, too, to bear knowing he’d been the cause of it. Well, to be fair to himself, it was his father’s own bigotry and mean-spiritedness that had led him to his heart attack. Had the notion of Ben falling for a slave been so horrible?

Oliver. Truth be told, the boy occupied more of his thoughts than his father did. The last Ben had seen of him, he’d been standing in a corner of the bedroom, pale and glassy-eyed. The only color on him was the red of his bloody face and the bruises turning dark on his body. The EMTs hadn’t shown the boy an ounce of concern even though he’d clearly been hurt. Oliver’s slave collar made it not their business. Ben could only hope Mary and Joe had gotten him to one of the all-night slave clinics. He would have called home to check except the no cell phone sign up on the wall stayed his hand. He didn’t want to leave the waiting room either, in case someone came looking for him.

Christ, what a mess, and it was all his fault.

“Mr. Tanner?”

He jumped up to face a petite woman who looked too young to be fixing other people’s hearts, but her tag said Dr. on it. “Yes. How’s—” He swallowed around a lump in his throat. “How’s my father?”

The woman gave him a tired smile. “He’s stable.” Pushing a stray strand of hair back, she continued. “As you know, he suffered an acute coronary episode. His arteries are badly clogged, so it was inevitable.”

“I see. He, ah, was under a lot of stress when it happened. We were fighting.”

“Well, that just helped to trigger it, but it was only a matter of time. Please don’t feel guilty, if you are.”

Ben quirked his lips. “Yeah, I have been actually.” He sighed. “When can I see him?”

“Now, if you like. He’s awake and lucid. Just don’t stay too long. He needs rest and as soon as we judge him stable enough, he needs surgery for those arteries.”

“Okay, got it.”

He wasn’t even sure his father would want to see him. Trailing quietly behind the doctor, he poked his head around the privacy curtain to stare at his father. His old man looked better than he expected. Hooked up to all kinds of tubes and gadgets, he still looked like the big, formidable guy that he always had been.

“Keep things calm,” the doctor advised before she slipped out.

Ben moved closer to the bed. His father opened his eyes and glared back at him. “Sorry to disappoint you, kid. I’m still alive.”

“Dad!” Ben admonished in a hushed tone. He’d never wanted that, although he could understand why the guy would think it. “I’m glad you’re okay. The doctor said you’re going to be fine.”

“No, I’m not,” came his father’s curt reply. “Obviously, I had a lengthier conversation with her. I need surgery.”

“I know, but then you’ll be fine. They do these artery surgeries all the time.”

“I’m sure they do, but in my case, I’ve been advised I have to slow down. It means retirement.”

“Oh.” Ben didn’t know what to say to that.

“Yeah, oh,” his father sneered. Obviously the coronary episode hadn’t curbed his sharp tongue. He squirmed a bit and fiddled with the covers before continuing. “So you get what you wanted after all.”

“What’s that?” Ben asked, genuinely perplexed.

“The slave.”

---