Page 75 of Beyond the Stix

“I fucking told you never to call me that. You are a sick, twisted man and I want you to stay away from me and my mother. You’re not family.”

“Don’t fucking say that,” Jessup roars, before I hear scuffling above me.

Without hesitation, I push the hatch door open with all my strength and climb through as fast as I can. What I see is Connor hunched over, against the wall, with Jessup’s hands wrapped around my guy’s throat.

Connor’s eyes meet mine with wide surprise. “John.”

His plea has me reaching for Jessup, but my bulk and height is a disadvantage in the limited space inside the tree house. I manage to grab his shirt, and yank him back, but only so far.

“I told you to stay away from Connor. He’s mine. But now you’re finished. Your spying days are over. All those pictures you’ve saved of him is your ticket to jail for a very long time.”

Jessup stumbles backward, his back slamming against the opposite wall while my fingers grip his throat.

“Connor’s mine. He was never yours. I love him and he loves me. He told me so, a long time ago. Our love will last forever. You are nothing to him,” Jessup shrieks. “Nothing!”

“What are you talking about, John?” Connor’s trembling voice cuts through some of my rage-filled haze center on Jessup.

I glance back at Connor. “He’s been watching you since you were young. He has pictures of you…” I shake my head, knowing I have to tell him the truth of what we found.

“Pictures?” he utters in question.

“When you were a baby, up to now. Lee also found a few on the dark web.”

Connor’s eyes dart to his uncle. “Is that true?”

Jessup is shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to share my precious photos of you. I thought they were like me. But they weren’t. When I realized they were terrible people, I tried to remove your pictures but it was too late. Connor, I’m not like those sick-fucks. I don’t like touching children. I love you, and only?—”

“Stop talking,” Connor cries out. “John.”

“I got him. Pen and Fig are down there. Climb down and tell them to call the police,” I say, keeping a tight hold on Jessup, who’s trying to struggle out of my hold.

“Sweetheart, don’t leave me. I’ve devoted my life to you. I stayed away like your father wanted, but I made sure you were safe. I even took care of that bully, the one who punched you. Don’t you remember?”

Connor abruptly stops at the entry of the hatch and looks back at his uncle. “Oh my God—that wasyouwho put Joe Marten in a coma? He was only twelve years old.”

I’ve seen depravity before, but this bastard is in a whole other league.

As Connor climbs down, Jessup twists and manages to get out of my hold. With a lucky swing, his fist lands on my temple, temporarily knocking me backwards and onto my ass. I’m seeing stars.

“Connor,” Jessup screams and dives for the open hatch hole. “I love you. Don’t leave me again.”

I lunge forward, my arms snagging him around the waist, hoping to stall his exit. But his downward momentum has me falling with him, and out of the tree house. In a blink, I’m on the ground, sprawled onto my side. Pain rips through my body and my head.

“John,” Connor shouts, before kneeling next to me, tentatively touching my face. “Don’t fucking die on me, damn it.”

“No, not today,” I wheeze, then groan, knowing in that instant that I broke a couple of ribs. I open my eyes and meet his beautiful green ones. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Tears stream down Connor’s handsome face. “I thought I lost you.”

“Oh my God.” I hear Amanda gasp. “What have you done, Jessup?”

My eyes shift to the still form several feet to my right. His left leg is at an awkward angle, and so is his right arm.

“I’m sorry, Am-anda. Connor, I…” Jessup has his hand out for Connor, but he doesn’t move from my side. “I love…”

It’s the last thing Jessup Wild says before his hand drops and his body stills.

Fig carefully bends over and feels for a pulse on the man’s neck. “He’s dead.”