24. Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-four

Early Christmas morning, the doorbell rang as Matt sat at the kitchen table with two fingers of Jack chilling over three ice cubes in an old juice glass with Bam-Bam Flintstone on it. They were old jelly glasses he and Jeri had collected when he was a boy, and he remembered his mother giving him the set with all the Flintstones characters on them as a gag gift the Christmas after he and Bertie were dreadfully wed.

The thought struck him funny as he emptied the glass, so he chuckled, hearing footsteps approaching. He turned to see a large man following Tim into the kitchen, and he smiled. He didn't know the man, but if he was a friend of Tim's, Matt knew they'd be friends quickly.

"This is DB Jeffers. DB, this is Ryan's father, Matthew Collins," his lover introduced. Matt stood unsteadily, bracing himself against the kitchen table before he extended his hand to the stranger.

"What can I do for ya?" he asked with an unattractive slur to his voice as he took in the man's size. He was as big as a fucking refrigerator, and he had a gold tooth, which Matt found funny for no reason that made sense, but he was able to keep from laughing.

The man was shorter than Matt, and his skin was a deep brown. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a red sweater with a gray, wool-tweed, driving cap on his head. He had a set of diamond studs in his ears, and he was wearing black, horn-rimmed glasses. He was a good-looking guy, but Matt had no idea why the man might be at his house.

"I spoke with Colonel Stanford last night and he sent me to help ya out with this situation. I was under him at Bliss before I got out last summer. Tell me what happened, sir," the man requested as he took the seat Tim had offered.

Matt looked at his lover with a cocked eyebrow as Tim stood next to him, hand reaching out. "I'm gonna take this and make you some breakfast. DB, are you hungry?" Tim removed the empty whiskey glass and bottle, swatting Matt's hand as he tried to grab them.

"Matthew, we need you to sober up so we can explain what happened to DB. I'll try to start telling him the story, but you know more of the details than me," Tim insisted, which didn't exactly make Matt happy.

He just wanted the pain to go away again. It had worked the last time Bertie took the boy, drinking to block the pain. Why not use a tried-and-true method?

After Matt hung up from his call with Rob the afternoon before—the day his son had been abducted—he went to the cabinet and pulled out the bottle just as he'd done when he came home to find his home empty and his three-year-old son missing.

They should have been sitting at his mother's house where Ryan would be tearing through the gifts his parents and the Simmons' had bought. Matt would have already taken Ryan to the barn to show him how Josie had settled in, and the saddle would be on the gate with a big ribbon on it, along with the bridle and saddle pad. It would have been so perfect.

Matt felt the tears leak and unlike earlier, he didn't stop himself. He turned to the handsome stranger and pulled the wallet from his jeans' back pocket, flipping it open to show him Ryan's school picture. "That's our boy. He's gonna be eight this summer. He just lost a front tooth earlier in the month."

Matt became too overwrought with emotion to continue speaking. His heart had blown apart, and he didn't know if there was enough left to try to fix it—ever.

He sobbed as Tim cleared his voice. "DB, I'm sorry. He's been drinking all night, and I shouldn't have let him do it, but I can't make him do anything he doesn't want to do. After I feed him and get him into bed, I'll tell you everything I know about this situation."

Tim wrapped his arms around Matt's shoulders and held him tight to his body. The bull rider did the same and sobbed into Tim's stomach like he'd never stop crying for the rest of his life.

It was unbelievable to think Bertie could be so goddamn hard-hearted that she'd take his son, his reason for living, for the sake of money… yet again.

Matt looked up at Tim, "He should be here openin' his gifts. He... The fuckin' cops are full of shit and worthless," Matt huffed out between sobs.

Tim pulled a tissue from the box and handed it to him. He blew his nose and tried to compose himself, but the whiskey and the circumstance had him hamstrung and an emotional mess.

DB pulled a small bottle out from his jeans pocket and addressed Tim. "Put this into a glass of warm water," he instructed.

"What is it?"

"It'll sober him up pretty quick. We're wasting precious time here instead of getting the boy back. The trail is cold after a day, and I'm not about to let this get away from me," DB insisted. Matt watched as Tim did as he asked, placing the glass in front of him.

"Drink it, Mr. Collins. You ain't gonna wanna let too much more grass grow under our feet if you want your son home." The man's voice was serious.

Matt did as instructed. It went down quickly, tasting a little bitter.

"Where's the bathroom?" DB asked.

"Oh, it's just up the stairs and down the hall. The door is open."

DB grabbed Matt's hand and hauled him out of the kitchen. He instructed Tim to make some very strong coffee as they climbed the stairs.

The next thing Matt knew, he was on his knees, feeling as if he was going to die as his stomach expelled the half bottle of bourbon he'd consumed while looking through the pictures on his phone of Ryan after the local police told him there was nothing they could do before they left his ranch.

They reminded him Bertie still retained joint custody of their son, and the agreement made no distinction regarding which of them had primary custody. They wouldn't be looking for his son at all.

Matt truly wanted to throttle his attorney, Jon Wells, for suggesting Bertie could be enticed to bring Ryan home if Matt was to acquiesce regarding a joint custody agreement the first time she took the boy, which he hadn't been happy about giving. It worked, but at what price?

Matt climbed out of the icy-cold shower he'd inflicted upon himself in hopes of sobering up and quelling the puking. His teeth were chattering enough to rattle his whole body, so he reached down to feel his balls had left the sack, likely returning to the spot in his belly where they'd resided before he hit puberty.

When the bathroom door opened, he was surprised to see his father walk in with a large mug of steaming something. "Drink this. Why the fuck didn't you call me and your mother last night? We'd have— Well, Matthew, he's our grandson, ya know? You're not the only one who missed Ryan when that bitch took him last time." His father's face mirrored the pain in Matt's soul.

Matt sighed, knowing he should have called them the previous night before the idea of getting drunk sounded so fucking great. He'd been so devastated by the fact Bertie took his son again, and he couldn't think straight. He guessed Tim wasn't thinking straight either.

They were both a mess, and Matt was instantly pissed at himself for the way he handled the situation. It wasn't what he should have done as a father because he should have been actively pursuing a strategy to find his son, not drowning his sorrows as if the boy was going to be gone for another three years.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, but I guess we weren't thinkin' straight last night. I'd have thought Danny woulda called ya." Matt glanced at his father to see the worry.

"We went to dinner at the steak house with Katie and Josh after Tim called to say y'all were gonna stay home. We decided y'all just wanted more time together since it was your first Christmas, so we went out for dinner. Danny called and left a message at the farm, but we didn't check them ‘til this mornin'. That man out there is a big bastard." Marty pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

Matt chuckled, not feeling any humor in the situation. "Yeah, he is. I wish he'da beat me to death rather than give me that shit in that little bottle."

Matt wrapped a towel around his waist before taking the cup of coffee from his father. His head was still groggy, but between the puking and the cold shower, he was sober enough to have his common sense kick in and give him ten kinds of hell.

You fuckin' idiot! You shoulda started tryin' to follow ‘em. No, you gotta just sit in this fuckin' house again and drink yourself into a stupor like ya did the last time she took him!

He slugged down the burning hot liquid and looked at his father with a new resolve. "Can you have Tim bring me another cup while I get dressed? I'm sorry, Dad for not bein' the best father I can be, but that's about to change." Matt opened the bathroom door.

Marty grabbed his arm and looked into Matt's eyes. "You're a good father, Matthew, you just don't know what to do about things like this, though none of us really do. How often does someone have to handle their child being taken?

"You've gotta learn to deal with some pretty crazy shit as Ryan gets older because he's gonna try your patience, I swear, but you'll love him regardless. Get dressed. I'll send Tim back with the coffee."

Marty stopped and turned to look at Matt who was heading to the dresser to retrieve some underwear. "Matthew, son, Tim blames himself because he was pickin' Ryan up from school, and he feels like he shoulda been there earlier. He had no way of knowin' what was gonna happen, but it don't stop him from blamin' himself. Maybe talk to him?" Without waiting for his response, Marty turned to leave the room with the empty cup.

Matt pulled on boxer briefs and went to the closet to grab jeans and a sweatshirt. He slipped on a pair of suede slippers his mother had given him for Christmas the year before, relishing the comfort of the wool lining on his frozen feet. He pulled on his jeans and the sweatshirt before he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, praying not to gag.

After he finished, he combed his wavy hair and returned to the bedroom, seeing Tim sitting on the bed looking so fucking guilty it was sad. There was no reason for the handsome man to blame himself. He hadn't done a damn thing wrong.

Matt walked over to sit down next to him, pulling his smaller body onto his lap. "I love ya, Timmy. Thank you for lettin' me wallow last night and thank you for takin' care of me. I'm so sorry this happened, but we're gonna get our boy back, I swear."

Tim pressed his forehead to Matt's shoulder while he sobbed. It was definitely Tim's turn to cry because Matt had cried damn near all night, but it wasn't getting them closer to getting Ryan home.

After a few minutes, Matt reached for a tissue from the box on the nightstand. He tilted up Tim's handsome face and wiped his eyes. "We gotta get our shit together because this ain't gettin' him home. I love ya. Let's go talk to that big bastard in the kitchen. What the fuck did he put in that glass?"

Tim giggled a little as he wiped his eyes. "Ipecac. It makes you vomit, which you did for a long time. How's your throat?"

Matt swallowed, feeling a tightness. "I'll live. Come on, we got a little man to rescue." The two of them rose from the bed and walked down the hallway, then down the stairs where everyone was waiting for them in the kitchen.

Matt noticed the tree wasn't on, and he decided it would stay dark until Ryan was home, irrespective of how long it took. It wouldn't be Christmas without his son at home, but they would bring him back.

The doorbell rang again as Matt sat in the family room, discussing things with his parents and Tim's aunt and uncle. DB Jeffers and Tim had gone to Matt's office where they'd been for two hours. Matt had no idea what they were doing, but they'd seemed determined when they left so he chose to give them privacy.

His mother rose to answer the door, but Matt decided he should make himself useful, so he walked down the hallway to open the front door, ecstatic to see the Stanford family, along with Andy, Savannah's girlfriend, smiling at him. Obviously, they'd given up their holiday to come to Holloway. It touched Matt's heart.

"God, you guys. Please come in. I'm so glad you came, but I'm sorry your Christmas was ruined." The Colonel shook Matt's hand and pulled him into a hug.

"Now, son, you're a part of our family as well, and my grandson's been taken. That's a reason to come here to support family and do everything we can to get him back. Anything yet?" Rob asked as he walked in with DeAnne behind him, hugging Matt. Savannah, Andy, and Robby followed. It was nice to have them there, ready to help Matt though they barely knew him.

Matt showed them into the living room where everyone was discussing the best way to handle the situation as they saw it. His parents had never met Robert Stanford, and he was sure his mother knew Bertie had no love for her father, so when his mother bristled, he regretted keeping his family out of the loop about why he'd gone to El Paso.

Things had happened so fast with Ryan's disappearance that giving an explanation for why Matt was in touch with Colonel Stanford had just slipped his mind. As they all stood in the living room staring at each other, Matt knew an introduction was long overdue.

"Momma and Dad, this is Colonel Robert Stanford, his wife DeAnne, their daughter, Savannah, her girlfriend, Andy, and their son, Robby. Everyone, this is my mother, Jeri, and my father Marty. These are our good friends and Tim's aunt and uncle, Josh and Katie Simmons. Tim's back in the office with DB." Matt glanced at the Colonel.

After hands were shaken, Rob turned to Matt and smiled. "Let's go see how far they've gotten. DB can work miracles, Matt, so let's hold off on worrying right now. He was in Delta Force."

Rob turned to DeAnne and grinned. "Honey, maybe you can make some tea? I think it might help everyone relax a little. This problem will be solved quickly, and when we get my grandson home, I want him to be thrilled everyone's already acquainted."

DeAnne smiled and gestured to Jeri and Katie. "Would you mind showing me to the kitchen?"

Matt got the idea. "Dad, why don't you and Josh take Savannah, Andy, and Robby down to the barn to show ‘em Josie. She's a Christmas gift for Ryan."

The Colonel squeezed his shoulder. Matt glanced at the man, who gave a subtle nod before the two of them proceeded down the hall to see if there was any progress on finding Ryan.

Rob stopped Matt just outside the door and turned him, staring into his eyes. "Matthew, I don't plan to lose my grandson. I'll do everything I can to bring him home, rest assured."

Matt nodded and led the man into the room, feeling a little hope creep into his soul for the first time since he'd learned what those women had done. Taking his son for a second time had Matt seeing blood red.