The Killing Bind

Chapter 27: Reunion

Jacob Milton had told his men to bring the man that was tall, lean, and older than the man that was currently unconscious at his hideout, but Jacob wasn't angry, he was confused and agitated, his thoughts were mixed up. Different emotions built up inside him, not being able to settle on one. The gang leader sighed and took a bottle of vodka from the cabinet above his kitchen countertop. He poured it in a glass and took a seat in front of the T.V

Jacob Milton's last name wasn't Milton at all. His real name was Jacob Miller. Milton was a name all Milton John gang leaders in each country must take. He had been married once, had kids, and ran away after his real job and life were revealed. One of the two kids was unconscious in one of the guest bedrooms and his other son was a murderer.

Jacob Milton's unconscious kid was supposed to be dead. He had no idea how he was still alive. His other son had killed him and his ex-wife came to his assistance wanting to cover up in every way possible. Even if it had meant risking her career and her one and only son left alive.

Jacob wasn't a saint. He was a murderer and an executioner. He was pleased when his other son had come to him, asking him to join him in his gang. Jacob being ecstatic about this hadn't hesitated to answer. He knew his other son was had murdered many other people, but he hadn't been told who they were. His son was keeping a secret that wasn't pretty. He had seen his son's eyes when he was talking to him. They were his eyes. The eyes of a murderer.

He heard sounds from the guest bedroom. He drank the rest of his vodka. It burned in his throat; it was not the alcohol. It was anticipation. The gang leader opened the bedroom and was suddenly pinned against the wall with extreme force by a pair of murderous eyes.

***

Andrew Beckett pinned his old man against the wall of the bedroom with killing intent. His father looked much older than he had seen from the photos from when he was a child. His hair was gray and his eyes were drooping down, but Andrew could see the intensity behind those eyes. He looked at his face with anger, but his father returned the stare with a slow smile.

"Andrew." His father spoke.

This was the first time Andrew was seeing his father. He had imagined many scenarios where he would have met his father and had a loving relationship, but this was not something he dreamed of.

"Who are you?" Andrew asked even though he knew who this man was.

"Is that the way to speak to your father?" Andrew's father replied.

"My father is dead." He spat.

"Well, your mother lied about many things. She believes she was protecting you but if you were with me, you would be much stronger, more powerful." His father said.

Andrew let go of his father and saw the old man rubbing the front of his throat and coughing slightly. Andrew stepped back, near the bed. The room wasn't entirely big but he felt that there was more to this house other than the bedroom they were in.

His father walked closer to him, but Andrew moved back. He has never backed down before, but this time, he felt like it was the correct thing to do.

"What are your intentions?" Andrew asked.

"What I want to know is, how are you still alive?" His father countered.

Andrew was stunned, his father knew about this too. He was questioning everything about his identity now. How many people knew that he was alive?

"Don't worry, only I know it. It seems your brother doesn't know that." His old man seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and Andrew didn't like it one bit.