Chapter 10

Roger Grainer poured another whiskey and celebrated his latest achievement. Since learning how women were nothing more than two-faced, back-stabbing bitches, he’d taken a friend’s advice and tried genie collecting. Genies, those ephemeral beauties, never complained that he couldn’t give them more than he had. They never spread vicious gossip or attempted to sully his reputation. Nor did they require hefty payoffs to keep their mouths shut.

Life was much simpler when a man had genies to tend to his needs.

As an avid collector, he’d searched out the rarest breeds. From clones of movie stars to a seductive, synthetic succubus, he’d “been there” and “done that.” There’d been a memorable weekend with twin harlequin bunnygirls in estrus. His survival was a testament to the skill of his doctor.

Then the Dark Net’s, Silk Road marketplace released notice of a special auction for a rare, nearly one-of-a-kind genie. A stunningly beautiful redhead, young, eager, and supposedly possessing a true loyalty to her owner. She’d be the perfect mistress, an eager participant in every kink or perversion her owner enjoyed.

Frankly, Roger didn’t believe it.

Still, he had to know for sure. His usual procurer, David Grant, was a fellow collector who also dabbled in specialized genie sales. Usually doing well, he’d nearly lost his shirt trying to sell a Cthulhu genie. Roger wasn’t into androgynous sex. Otherwise, he might have “communed with an old one.” He might be a bastard, but he was a hetero bastard.

Grant returned his call several hours later. “If you’re calling about the centaur, she’s no longer available.”

Centaur? Ugh. “David, you know I prefer female bipeds.” Roger added extra emphasis on “female” in case David had another fishthing to unload.

“Yes, yes, of course. What can I do for you?”

“The auction.”

David audibly sucked in his breath. “Ah, damn. I’d hoped it slipped your notice. She’s right up your alley, old chum. Frankly, I’d hoped to poach her and mark her up for resale.”

If anyone knew his type, it was David. From selling him his first toy girl until his last trade-in, David had handled the transactions. “Tell me about her.”

“Let’s discuss my fee first.”

Of course, his “friend” would want his pay. Roger opened the negotiations. “One percent.”

“Five,” David countered.

Roger sighed. The alternative to David was to risk exposure and handle his transactions directly. “Two and a half.”

“Thank you. I accept your generous offer. Well, this genie is quite special. First, she’s sixteen and, as they say, never been kissed. The remarkably beautiful, little miss innocent will pass as human in every possible way, including intelligence, and while she’ll cease aging at eighteen, she’ll enjoy a normal human lifespan.”

“Hold up,” Roger interrupted. “You know the problems with keeping a human-passable secure. Why should I want the trouble?” Genies with human appearances or human-level intelligence were security nightmares. They were always conniving and attempting to escape. God forbid if one managed to run away. It might become damaged or worse, picked up by the police.

“They’ve cracked the loyalty gene, Roger. After you break her in, she’ll stay with you of her own free will. In fact,” David chuckled darkly. “and this is my favorite part. She’ll become physically addicted to having sex with you, and only you. If you withhold the “D,” she’ll suffer withdrawal symptoms. No other “D” will do. Withhold it long enough, and she’ll die, painfully.”

“No, shit?” She was right up his alley.

“No, shit.”

“How do I sign up for the auction?”

“The entry fee isn’t cheap, but if you don’t win, it’s fully refunded less a modest handling fee. Sign-up is five hundred bitcoins.”

“FIVE HUNDRED?” Roger ran a quick check on his phone. That was over three million dollars! “You bastard, and you got me for two and a half percent!”

“Two and a half percent of the final sale price, old chum. All the heavy hitters are in it to win it. You’re not getting her cheap.”

Now, Roger sat in his home office, drinking two fingers of a twenty-year-old single malt. A single malt whisky, four years older than the redhead secured inside his playroom. The glass in his hand shook, and he set it down before wasting it. Whew, it’s hot in here. Loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button on his shirt helped. He’d not felt jitters like this since his first time with a real girl. It didn’t matter; he’d successfully outbid every other collector in the world. The prize of a lifetime was upstairs.

As if Stephanie’s disappearance wasn’t bad enough, Jason had caught the flu. Mom loaded him up with acetaminophen and the latest antivirals. She’d sent him to bed and set Alfred to spying on him.

It was enough to make a boy cry.

The worst part was he knew Mr. Timms was responsible. How many times had Stephanie warned him about her father? How he would break them up if he found out about her and Jason. Jason rolled over and punched his pillow. He’d even felt Stephanie flinch when Mom announced Mr. Timms stopped over. Yet, he hadn’t thought to say anything. Ouch, every joint ached, and this fever made it difficult to think straight.

Mom popped into the room without knocking. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he replied, rolling onto his back. Then he winced when Mom swiped the ice-cold thermometer across his forehead.

His mother glanced at the display. “Your fever is dropping. Keep drinking.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Is there anything I can get you?” His eyes must have given him away ‘cause mom held up a hand. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Call her mom again,” Jason demanded.

“I’ve already left half a dozen voicemails. You’ll be the first person to know when she calls back. Now get some rest, that’s an order.”

Robert Thomas recognized a wifely glare when he saw one. Given the recent turmoil concerning their son and his absent girlfriend, he knew why Shirley was upset. Still, it didn’t hurt to be certain. “All right, wife, what’s the problem?”

“You know exactly what the problem is.”

Yep, this was about Stephanie. “What do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know. You’re a lawyer, do lawyer shit.”

Ouch, Shirley rarely swore, and when she did... “Sweetheart, she’s a minor. Her parents have every right to ground her.”

“It’s not her mother who’s responsible. Natalie approved of Stephanie and Jason’s relationship.”

“Fine, her dad grounded her. It’s still his right.”

“Didn’t you notice how Stephanie never called her father, “Dad.” She hated the man. Something bad is going on over there.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Can’t you call someone? Get someone to investigate, see if everything’s okay.”

Robert took a sip of water. He was going to sleep on the couch tonight. Maybe if he ripped the band-aid off, it wouldn’t hurt too much. “I can’t.” His wife’s eyes flashed. Before she could retort, he held up his hands. “Shirl, I’m an officer of the court. I can’t make a false report. If I did, they might disbar me.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Shirley pursed her lips, then asked, “Who do I call?”

“Here in Allegheny County its CYF, Children Youth and Families. Alfred has the number.” Robert shook his head and stood. He’d lost his appetite. “I’ll go next door and ask about her.”

Shirley grabbed her coat and accompanied him next door. Robert rang the doorbell, and they waited. Minutes passed before a balding man in a jacket stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

“What can I do for you?” he asked. A gust of wind ruffled the man’s hair, and he buttoned his coat.

“Mr. Timms?” Robert asked. The man replied with a curt nod. “I’m Robert Thomas, and this is my wife, Shirley.”

“Yes,” Timms turned to Shirley. “I remember you, Mrs. Thomas, from the other week.”

Shirley wasn’t here for pleasantries, and she got right to it. “Where’s Stephanie? Can we see her?”

“Ah,” Timms said with a small smile, “I thought this might be about my foster daughter.”

“Foster daughter?” Robert and Shirley said at nearly the same instant.

Mr. Timms nodded. “Stephanie didn’t tell you, did she. I can’t say I’m surprised. Of all the fosters we’ve helped, she’s been the most difficult. Stealing, lying, it’s all attention-seeking behavior, and the girl can’t help it.” Timms looked away, then back. “A childless couple, with more money than sense, adopted her. They first met Stephanie about a year ago. The adoption’s been in the works for months.”

“What’s their name? Where are they from?” demanded Shirley.

Timms glanced briefly at Shirley before turning to Robert. “I’m sorry, but the confidentiality laws are quite clear. The family specifically did not waive their right to privacy.”

Robert extended his hand and shook with Timms. “Thank you for telling us this much.”

Timms waved it off. “Not a problem. Stephanie spent a lot of time visiting you and your son. Your concern is understandable.”

Robert and Shirley didn’t speak to each other until they reached their front door.

With a touch on his arm, Shirley stopped her husband. “Robbie, this isn’t going to be good news for Jason.”

“No,” Robert shook his head, “but he needs to know. Do you want to be there when I tell him?”

“Of course.”

At the tap on his door, Jason glanced up from his tablet. Mom and Dad stood there wearing their “Determined Parent” faces.

“What’s wrong?” he asked and sat up.

Dad said, “We spoke with Mr. Timms, Stephanie’s foster-father. He told us a well-to-do family adopted her. The adoption had been in the works for months, and Stephanie knew all about it. Are you certain she didn’t mention anything about it?”

Jason knew he was staring. Adoption? Foster-father? “She never said anything.”

“Well,” Dad temporized, “not everyone is good at giving bad news to others. Especially when they care about the other person. Stephanie might not have wanted to upset you any sooner than she needed.”

Jason didn’t say anything. He still hadn’t sorted all this out.

Dad continued. “Things like this are a part of growing up. Unfortunately, becoming an adult sometimes means growing a thicker skin.”

Mom and Dad waited, but Jason still couldn’t speak.

Sighing, Dad stood. “We’re going downstairs to finish supper. Afterward, we’ll watch some Tri-D. Jason, we’ll be here anytime you want to talk.”

“I’ve never seen a more miserable boy,” Robert sighed. He and Shirley cleaned the kitchen together like they used to do.

Shirly paused while snapping a lid on a neoplas container. “You don’t think he would do anything ... to harm himself, do you?”

Surprised at the question, Robert pinched his eyes shut in thought. A moment later, he lifted his head. “Alfred?”

“Yes, Mister Thomas?”

“I want you to keep an eye on Jason. Stay out of standby or sleep modes. You are to alert us if you think Jason is going to do something dangerous.”

“Yes, Mr. Thomas. Sir, if I might say so, I feel terrible for him. Miss Stephanie meant a great deal to the young master.”

Robert quirked an eyebrow. “Just how self-aware are you. Alfred?”

“I’m not qualified to answer a question like that, sir. I am state-of-the-art, so perhaps I’m merely good at mimicking self-awareness.”

“Thank you, Alfred. Keep an eye on my son.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good morning, Jason.”

The words registered somewhere, but not consciously. No, Jason’s attention lay on one of the half-dozen photographs hanging inside his locker. Every morning, Jason held a silent communion at the Shrine of Stephanie.

The hint of musky vanilla had more of an impact and intruded on his daydream. He blinked and followed the scent to his right. Caitlin O’Sullivan stood there wearing an unhappy frown.

“Uh, hi, Cait.” Jason blurted.

“Uh, hi, yourself,” she replied. “I swear, Jason, the next time I see Stephanie, I’ll tell her how you ignore your friends.”

Jason blinked. Stephanie hadn’t especially liked Caitlin. Heck, ignoring Caitlin might have earned him one of Steph’s special rewards. Then the sharp point of reality plunged home. Stephanie moved away, ghosting him in the process.

“What’s wrong?” Cait asked. “And don’t say “nothing” because I can see it.”

She probably could. Sometimes Jason felt like a black cloud followed him around. Jason took a breath. He needed to get this out sometime. “Steph moved away a couple weeks ago.”

Perhaps checking to see if he was kidding, Cait’s vivid blue eyes searched his. “What do you mean, moved away? Do you know where?”

“Someone adopted her, and she’s gone. I only found out last week.” Saying it out loud made it real. His eyes burned, and he blinked to keep things under control.

Caitlin’s mouth dropped open. After visibly collecting herself, she straightened and said, “Who adopted her? Where did she go?”

“I don’t know—” The five-minute warning bell cut him off. Up and down the hallway, clots of students broke up and filed towards classrooms.

“We’ll find you at lunch,” said Cait. Her cool hands gripped his, then she turned and ran down the hall.

A pair of lunch trays dropped to the table and startled Jason from his funk.

Elise dropped hers the hardest, then pulled out a chair with a loud scrape. Without preamble, she jumped right into it. “What did you do to Stephanie?”

Caitlin winced at her friend’s accusatory tone. “Be nice, ‘lise.”

In the weeks since the dance, Jason noticed Elise spending time in the company of Cait’s twin brother, Connor O’Sullivan. At first, Jason hoped it signaled an end to his and Connor’s rivalry. Instead, it seemed to have soured his relationship with Caitlin’s best friend.

If Caitlin’s words affected Elise, it didn’t show. “All I’m saying is it has to be his fault. I mean, he almost got Connor kicked off the team.”

“That’s enough!” Cait stood so fast, her chair rocked back on its two rear legs. Everyone in the immediate area turned to stare. Red-faced, Cait pulled her chair back and sat. She took a breath. “Elise, you promised.”

Instead of answering, Elise glanced at her watch and stood. “I’m going to wait for Connor.” Leaving her untouched tray on the table, she stormed out of the cafeteria.

“What just happened?” asked Jason.

Caitlin sighed and studied her clenched fists. “She makes me so mad.”

“Did I do something to her?”

“No,” Cait’s blue eyes flicked up to his, and she smiled. “‘Lise and Connor are dating. It turned serious over the weekend. So, I guess, she’s protecting her...” Cait glanced up as if the words she needed were on the ceiling. “Investment, yes, Elise is protecting her investment.”

A relationship turned serious seemed to have only one possible meaning. Way to go, Connor, I guess. To Caitlin he said, “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Me?” she waved off his concern. “Sure, I make new best friends all the time. Tell me what happened to Stephanie.”

“ ... so, she just kissed you goodbye, and you never saw her again?”

“Nope. I was crazy for a while, missing her. Then my dad talked with her father. Mr. Timms said Stephanie was a foster kid all along and that some rich family adopted her.” The next part of the story still hurt. “Apparently, she’d known about the adoption for months and never said anything.”

It seemed to bother Cait almost as much as him. “I can understand her not wanting to give you some bad news, but why hasn’t she called or sent a text?” All he could do was shrug. “Have you checked your spam folders?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, “I’ve sent a bunch of messages too.”

The lunch bell rang. Jason stood and waited for Cait. Together they dropped off their trays. In the hallway, Cait stopped Jason with a touch on his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll call you tonight. We’ll talk some more.”

“Thanks.”

That evening, about five minutes after Caitlin hung up, Jason’s mom tapped on his open door. “Got a minute?” she asked.

“Sure, Mom, pull up a chair.” It was a joke because he sat on the only chair in the room.

Instead of sitting, Mom walked around, collecting various articles of clothes, and putting them in his hamper. While she worked, Mom asked, “Who’s Caitlin?”

Wary of parental curiosity, Jason chose a neutral reply. “A friend.”

“Uh, huh.” Mom sat on the edge of his bed. “Is she the same girl who invited you to the dance?”

“Yes.” Then to ward off whatever concern Mom had, he added. “Look, we’re just friends. She’s concerned about me, that’s all.”

“Uh, huh,” repeated Mom. “Well, I’m concerned about you as well. There’s a thing called rebound. I don’t want you making a poor decision because you’re on the rebound from Stephanie.”

Of course, Mom’s reason made perfect sense. Then he thought about it more. Mom had always wanted a daughter, and she’d genuinely liked Stephanie. Putting it all together, Jason realized he wasn’t the only person who needed closure. “Mom, Stephanie and I shared a private email address. We used it to talk about, well, private stuff.” He glanced across the room, and Mom nodded. “Since she left, I’ve sent hundreds of messages and checked the inbox hundreds of times. If Steph wanted to contact me, she’d be able to do it from any public or private terminal.”

“You don’t think she’ll get in touch?”

“Not any more.” Jason shook his head, maybe someday he’d actually believe it. “I’m trying to not get angry about it. You heard Dad. Stephanie knew about the adoption for months, and she never said a word. Steph and I ... well, we didn’t have secrets from each other. At least I didn’t think so.”

“And you’re ready to move on?”

“No, but I think I need to. Probably with Cait or maybe another girl. Who knows, maybe I’ll find somebody better.”

Jason and Caitlin ate lunch together and hung out between classes. Sometimes Elise joined them, but she rarely stayed for more than a few minutes. On their way to math class, Caitlin sighed as if buried under the weight of a mountain. “I wish I had someone to go out with this weekend.”

When Jason glanced over, Cait flashed her blue eyes at him.