Sharon Hartley - The Billionaire's Son

“How old are you, Jason?” she asked to pass the time.

“Four,” he stated, as if she were very stupid. But of course his mother would know his age.

“Who were those guys you were with?” she asked.

He closed his eyes.

“Did they hurt you?”

“They hit Maria,” he whispered.

“Why did they do that?” Kelly asked, encouraged by his response. Who was Maria? Maybe the kid had recovered enough to give her some answers.

Jason shivered and turned his warm face into her neck.

“Did you know those men, Jason?”

He released a giant sigh, but didn’t say another word.

“Okay, okay,” Kelly said, patting his back. “We don’t have to talk about them.”

The door burst open and four men entered the room. None of them were in uniform. Short hair. Jackets and ties. Feds. DEA? FBI?

“Jason,” someone shouted in a relieved tone.

Kelly focused on the speaker as he rushed toward her, and wondered if her mouth fell open. She stared at a man so impossibly good-looking he belonged on a movie screen or in a magazine. Dark hair, intense dark eyes. His jacket, his slacks—everything about him reeked of money and sophistication. The gold watch on his wrist belonged in a museum.

This god-come-to-earth squatted before Kelly and held out his arms to the kid. “Jason,” he said in a choked voice.

The kid lifted his head but didn’t release his hold on her. If anything, he tightened his grip and glared at the man.

“Jason?” The man shifted his gaze to Kelly, and she felt as if she’d been assaulted by an unseen force. Raw power flowed off him in waves. And arrogance mixed with anger. He didn’t like being denied anything. And who would want to refuse him?

“Who the hell are you?” the god demanded.

“Kelly Jenkins. Who the hell are you?”

His eyes widened in surprise as if she was supposed to know who he was. Maybe he was some big-deal movie star. Maybe she had seen him before, now that she thought about it, but she never had time for movies or TV. His nails were manicured; his leather shoes buffed. His skin was smooth, unlined, as if he’d never experienced a worry in his life.

“Officer Jenkins, this is Trey Wentworth and you’re holding his son, Jason,” one of the suits said.

“Thank goodness,” Kelly said, thinking, yeah, the name rang some bell, one associated with stacks of cash. She attempted to pass the kid to Wentworth.

“No, Mommy,” Jason wailed, and turned his face from his dad.

Wentworth flinched as if the kid had struck him, and rose in a smooth athletic movement.

The feds all exchanged alarmed glances.

Coming to her feet, Kelly asked softly, “Don’t you want to go to your daddy, Jason?”

“No. I want to stay with you, Mommy.”

“But you know I’m not your mommy,” Kelly said.

Jason began to cry again.

Kelly tried to pry his fingers from her clothing and hand Jason over. This kid had a problem far beyond her limited expertise as a rookie cop. He needed serious help, likely a shrink. She felt for the poor little guy. She’d had plenty of experience with shrink stuff.

“Jason, come on,” she said. “Let go.”

“Stop it,” Wentworth ordered.

The force of Wentworth’s command caused everyone in the room to look at him.

Kelly met his furious gaze, and again that strange sensation of raw power flowed over her.

“You’re upsetting him,” Wentworth said. “Leave him alone.”

“I’m upsetting him?”

“Just give him a minute, okay?” Wentworth ran a hand through his perfectly cut hair. “He’s confused. He’s been through a lot.”

Kelly plopped back down in the chair. “Yeah, well, so have I. What’s going on here?”

One of the suits stepped forward. “Officer Jenkins, I’m Special Agent Walt Ballard.”

“FBI?”

“Yes.”

Kelly nodded. “I knew you were a fed.”

“Why don’t you fill us in,” Ballard said. “How did you meet Jason?”

Beginning with her first sight of Jason, Kelly relayed what had occurred in the park.

“You used martial arts to knock a gun out of the man’s hand?” Wentworth interrupted in a shocked voice.

Kelly nodded. “Instinct. These guys were amateurs. I mean, come on, they let a kid get away from them.”

“An amateur could still shoot my son.” Wentworth glared at her as if she were the criminal.

“You’re upset because I kicked the gun from his hand?” Kelly demanded, glaring right back. “So I should have just handed him over to the bad guys?”

“Go on, Officer Jenkins,” Ballard said.

Kelly squared her shoulders and continued, ending with concise descriptions of Caleb and Adam.

“The last I saw them they were hauling ass toward the marina. The Miami PD sent officers after them. I assume this is a kidnapping?”

“Yes,” Ballard replied. “Apparently there was a miscommunication on the drop site.”

Wentworth muttered something about the Keystone Cops.

Ballard turned to Wentworth. “Jason is safe, Mr. Wentworth. Your continued sarcasm isn’t necessary or helpful.”

“Safe?” Wentworth spit out. “He’s clinging to some strange woman I’ve never seen before who almost got him shot, and he thinks he found his mother.”

“Yeah, well, this strange woman likely saved your son’s life.”

“If you had done your job correctly, the way I—”

“Hey, guys.” Kelly shouted over the rising voices. She placed her hand protectively on Jason’s head as he burrowed into her shoulder. His entire body shook with the force of his sobs.

Wentworth whirled on her.

Kelly met his penetrating gaze. “This is so not what this little boy needs right now,” she told him in a quiet voice.

CHAPTER TWO

TREY STRUGGLED TO control his frustration as he watched his precious son—his blessedly alive son—weep on the female cop’s shoulder. Why was he lashing out at Ballard? The angry voices only confused Jason—upset him worse. But the way his son looked at him had pierced him to his core—like everything bad in the world was his daddy’s fault. And maybe it was.

Officer Jenkins murmured soothingly to Jason, and his sobs gradually diminished.

“Gentlemen,” the woman said in a level tone, her hand cupping Jason’s head. “This strange woman is freezing her ass off and really would like someone to call her lieutenant.”

After a long quiet moment, she said, “Please?” in a hopeful tone.

Noting gooseflesh on Jenkins’s long legs, Trey removed his jacket and wrapped it around her and Jason. He took the opportunity to give his son a quick kiss on his flushed cheek before stepping back. Jason’s gaze locked with his briefly before he turned away.

“Thank you,” Jenkins said meaningfully. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

“Of course,” Trey said.

Ballard raised his phone. “Give me a number,” he said. “I’ll explain the situation to your department.”

She gave Ballard the information, and the agent stepped out of the room with his two colleagues, leaving Trey alone with Jenkins and his son. Trey sat in a chair beside them. His son still refused to look at him and sucked on a thumb, something he hadn’t done in a while. Trey rubbed Jason’s back, grateful the agents had left.

“Thank you for rescuing my son,” he told Jenkins.

“You’re welcome.” She glanced down to Jason then carefully mouthed, “Where is his mom?”

“Dead,” Trey mouthed back.

She closed her eyes.

“Hey, buddy,” Trey said. “How are you doing?”

Jason buried his face deeper into the officer’s shoulder.

“Don’t you want to say hello to your daddy?” Officer Jenkins prompted. “I know he’s been very worried about you.”