Piper (Queen's Birds of Prey #4) - Kathi S. Barton Page 0,27
tests. I only had a one night thing with Retha. To be honest, Mrs. Dante, I don’t even remember much of it. I’ve never been one to indulge in liquor or the like. But that next morning, I woke with a splitting headache, my money gone, and no memory of much of anything. Retha was there. She acted like we had this long term thing going on, and I kicked her to the curb. Then about a year later, she comes around with this kid.” Benson sat down on his couch. “I don’t want anything from you. I swear. It’s a bit too late for me, anyway. She gave me AIDS, you see, and I’m not long for this world. She’s the only person that...Retha is the only person I’ve ever slept with. And I don’t think she even knows she’s sick yet.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lawrence. I truly am.” He felt his eyes fill up. More tears wouldn’t help him out, he told her, but he did want to make sure the one thing he could be proud of was safe. “I’m sending someone for you. I want you to come here to our home and see what you can help us with concerning Retha.”
“No, ma’am, that’s all right. Like I said, I wanted to make sure that Abraham is safe, that’s all.” She told him that someone by the name of Grant was going to be there within the next hour. “You don’t know anything about me, miss. What if I’m some sort of scammer?”
“If you are, when you arrive, you won’t have to worry about dying that horrific death. I’ll make sure you suffer much worse.” He believed her too. Telling her he’d be there, he asked if she needed his address. “No. I have it. As well as your medical records. You’ll see that we’re not a family that anyone messes with. Retha won’t know what hit her. You’ll come here, we’ll work things out, and then we’ll talk. Be ready.”
After the line went dead, Benson laid back on the couch. He wasn’t feeling up for much of anything today. Not just feeling sick, but the doctor hadn’t given him a good prognosis. He had less than two months left.
Benson had always thought of himself as a good person. He’d been the type of man that would get up from his seat to give it to someone else. If he had more than enough, which had been often enough, he’d share it with those that lived around him. He had friends, money in the bank, as well as a good outlook on life. Then Retha.
The DNA test hadn’t come back until she left him again. The boy was ninety-nine percent his. That, he thought, was about as close as it could get. While the two of them had been living with him, Benson knew that Abraham was much smarter than the average kid. By the time he was three months old, he’d been showing signs of being extremely intelligent. Retha hated when Benson pointed that out to her, so he stopped. That didn’t keep him from encouraging the little boy. Then he was gone.
A friend of his, a cop, had told him that the police had been trying to stop the selling of children on the black market. Every day he’d ask Mac if his son had come through. Then one day, he told him he’d been there. But before either of them could retrieve him from the hospital, he was gone again. Stolen, they said. That was when Benson lost all hope of finding him again. Until he read about the children’s home. But again, he was too late to find his son.
Someone at the door woke him from his nap. Benson staggered to the door, his body getting weaker every day, and opened it. His timing could have been better, he supposed. He opened it in time to hear Mrs. Sheradon from across the hall telling the man at the door that Benson had that nasty disease. That the man should go home to his wife.
“I’m his wife, you old goat. Get your skinny ass back in that room before I have to make an example of you. Get.” Mrs. Sheradon closed her door with a snap, and the beautiful woman that had threatened her smiled at him. “Hello, Mr. Lawrence. My name is Piper Coby. This man is my husband, Grant. You were told to expect us?”