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IN THE BEGINNING…

ZACK

“ H urry up, Zack. We’re on a tight schedule,” his father barked. Zack didn’t know what had crawled up his old man’s ass; normally he paid little or no attention to him, despite Zack being his only child. His only family.

The miserable fucker was usually content to palm off Zack’s care onto whoever was handy at the time, and now Zack was older, that was pretty much no one.

During term time he was at boarding school, and honestly, he’d prefer to stay there during the holidays if it was an option.

Sometimes it was, but not for the long summer months.

When he was younger, he’d had a nanny during the times he was forced to be at home.

Now he had a credit card to take care of anything he needed.

Although their housekeeper liked to make sure he didn’t eat takeout every day of the week.

His dad sure as hell didn’t give a shit, which was why Gordon Kincaid’s current insistence on Zack’s presence was so unexpected and more than a little bit disturbing.

Still, as he was rushed to the chauffeur-driven town car waiting outside, Zack knew better than to question this odd turn of events.

Even at fifteen, and almost as tall as his father, that kind of response was more likely to earn him a clip around the ear and the threat of curtailing his allowance, rather than any useful explanation.

Not that he couldn’t manage perfectly well if Gordon decided to punish him by taking away his charge card.

Zack had been repurposing the generous cash withdrawals his father had authorized on the card for as long as he’d realized it was an option.

His dad had no idea how much everyday items such as toiletries cost since he never purchased them for himself, so he’d just plucked a ridiculously generous figure out of the air that he felt covered his son’s needs.

In fact, Zack used less than 10% of it. The rest he put into a savings account.

One Gordon had authorized himself, albeit unknowingly, since he’d signed it without reading it through, along with a bunch of other school forms needing parental approval.

Zack didn’t feel the least bit of guilt.

It wasn’t like the old man couldn’t have checked what he was signing, but as usual, he didn’t care as long as Zack wasn’t his problem to deal with.

Zack had been a surprise baby to mature parents. His aging mother had apparently thought she was going through menopause and hadn’t realized she was pregnant until she was much too far along to do anything about it. Or so he’d gathered from overhearing the staff gossiping.

He sometimes wondered whether his parents would have chosen to abort him if they’d found out soon enough.

It seemed likely. Especially since his frail mother had died shortly after giving birth to him.

Although he’d never said as much - that would require a conversation, after all - Zack suspected his father’s behavior towards him stemmed from losing his wife.

If it wouldn’t have looked so bad, Zack was pretty sure his father would have just left him at the hospital and walked away, but the one thing Gordon Kincaid did care about was his social standing and reputation.

So he’d hired a nanny, and when Zack was five years old, he’d been shipped off out-of-state to a residential school.

It was probably the best thing to ever happen to him, and the lack of family life meant Zack’s educational attainment was way ahead of his peers.

He came out of his silent reverie as they pulled up outside an elegant colonial style building.

“Let us out here and wait in this spot until we return,” Gordon instructed the driver, uncaring that they were parked in a restricted zone. “Come on, boy.”

Zack was as good as dragged along as soon as they exited the vehicle, his father gripping his arm like he was afraid Zack might bolt.

It added to his unease. What the fuck was going on?

Checking out the signage, Zack realized they were in a courthouse, which only heightened his confusion.

The two of them were whisked into what he assumed was a courtroom, and Gordon deposited Zack on a seat before striding forward to shake hands with a guy in official robes.

Why did they still wear that ridiculous get up?

Try as he might, Zack couldn’t make out the muted murmurs taking place across the room, and a few minutes later, his attention was caught by a woman and a girl he assumed was her daughter, coming in through a side door.

Like him, the girl was escorted to a seat away from the bench, but on the opposite side of the room.

Though in stark contrast to Gordon, it was clear how protective her mother was.

Zack dismissed the adults who huddled together, mumbling unintelligibly, and scrutinized the girl out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to appear too interested.

She had long, pale blonde hair, pulled back in a ponytail, which unlike her mother’s peroxide locks, was completely natural.

She was pretty enough, but way too skinny, which made Zack think she was probably a few years younger than him and hadn’t started developing yet.

He’d just started appreciating the charms of the opposite sex, and boobs were definitely the bomb.

She seemed shy too. Not even looking his way once. Or maybe she was just stuck up.

He was fidgeting on his chair, starting to get bored, when all hell broke loose.

There was a commotion outside the door, and it swung open. A middle-aged woman who was so mousy Zack hadn’t even registered her presence until then, hurried forward as their privacy was interrupted.

Still, nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

The noise was so loud it made his ears ring, and at first Zack couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

But the woman collapsing in a puddle of blood, the panicked shouts, and the high-pitched scream from the bottled blonde as she grabbed her daughter, soon made him realize the stark danger that inhabited the chaos.

Gunshots sprayed heedlessly throughout the room, and it was sheer instinct that sent Zack diving to the floor, shielding himself as best he could, thankful for the heavy wooden seats which resembled church pews, and provided so much cover.

Desperately, he looked around. The woman and her daughter had scurried out of the same side entrance they’d come in through, and his father and the judge had dived through a door behind the bench, which Zack supposed went into the judge’s private chambers.

Fuck! Were they all just going to leave him here?

Panic edged his thoughts towards frenzy as heavy boots stomped closer to his hiding place.

Terror had his limbs almost frozen in place, and the instinct to close his eyes and cower and pretend they might not see him was strong.

But pressing in on his incoherent thoughts was the glimmer of common sense screaming at him of the foolishness of that course of action, which would undoubtedly bring his inevitable demise.

Forcing a deep breath and ignoring the trembling that had taken root, Zack looked around his immediate vicinity with wild eyes.

No way was he popping his head up to see where the gunmen were.

So far, they didn’t seem to realize he was still there, which worked in his favor, but he doubted his luck would hold out much longer.

There was no exit close to his own location.

Of the three doorways in the room, one was out of the question, since it was the one these thugs had swarmed through and secured.

The second was the one the woman had used.

That was on the other side of the room and seemed to be where their focus lay.

Which just left the door his father had gone through.

It was situated in the middle of the room behind the large, formal podium the judges used, so there was a little bit of cover, if only Zack could get there without being mowed down.

And right now, he wasn’t even convinced his legs were going to work.

Except right then, fortune really did seem to be on his side.

Renewed shouting from somewhere in the corridor behind them, alerted the gunmen that security was on the way.

With their attention momentarily distracted, Zack pushed up, stayed bent at the waist and half ran, half crawled, across the space which suddenly appeared to stretch for miles in front of him, when in reality, it was no more than a few feet.

Pandemonium erupted. More shouting, more gunfire, and a streak of pain sliced across the back of his leg, almost sending Zack sprawling.

Pure adrenaline kept him moving, diving in an uncoordinated crumple behind the thankfully substantial lectern, then crawling through the door.

Zack didn’t stop, even though he was desperate to check what was happening; to pause and allow his galloping heart to ease and his panic to subside, but he didn’t dare.

More shots sounded behind him, spurring him on.

A desperate glance as he scuttled across the floor on his hands and knees, half dragging one leg awkwardly behind him, since it didn’t want to hold his weight, showed only a single exit from this room, so there was no choice but to head for it.

The desk was solid and posed a possible hiding place, but no way he was getting cornered in here, and Zack was pretty sure he was leaving a trail of blood that would lead right to him.

Where the fuck was Gordon? Zack had never felt a whole lot of tender loving care from the guy, but Jesus Christ, this pretty much said it all. Or did his absence mean his father was injured or… worse?

The idea made his head swim. They might not be close, but Gordon was the only family he had. Fuck if he wanted to end up in the foster system; better the devil he knew.