“You don’t have to, Brandon. I promise. But I need the information.”
“Hamilton.”
A last name. This was very good.
“Eli Hamilton, pup?”
Brandon nodded before clarifying, “Elijah Hamilton.”
“Do you know where he worked?” I asked cautiously. He was willing to give me some information, but the window was quickly closing on my opportunity to obtain much more.”
“Brentwood Mental Health Services.”
“Do you know what kind of work he did there?”
“He was a psychologist there. He was the partner with my mom’s psychologist. I was Eli’s patient. My mom and I constantly fought and argued. In tenth grade, I got into a fight at school because some guys on the track team were jacking off to a magazine with my mom in it. I got angry and got into a fight. She’d had it with me and threatened to take my car if I didn’t talk to someone about my behavior problems. She arranged it so that I saw Eli each week.” Brandon took another deep breath before he continued. “I started to enjoy seeing him because he paid attention to me. For one hour, I was important to someone. My mom was too busy for me. He learned that my mom didn’t make my track meets a priority at all, so he started to come. He’d take me out for pizza after. We’d talk. He seemed to care. I guess, that’s why I’ve been so reluctant to share information about him. I didn’t want to believe that I had meant nothing to him. That hurt too much.”
“That makes sense, Brandon. I can understand being drawn to the attention.”
“Things were going well, and I really honestly thought that he was a friend of mine. He let me move in with him after high school. He got me to sever ties with my mom. He knew what I needed, and he fed it to me.”
“Did he ever write a prescription drug for you?”
“No.”
“Did he ever give you any pills?”
“Just the day that he sold me.”
Just the day that he was sold.
I was repulsed by what I’d heard. I was trying to think and keep my mannerisms controlled so he wouldn’t think my disgust was geared toward him.
“Can we lay down now?” Brandon asked.
“Of course, pup.”
I laid on my back, and Brandon rest his head on my shoulder. I reached behind him and pulled his blanket bear closer and set it in his arms. His need for security began front and center.
“James,” he called my name.
“Yes, my pup?”
“Do you promise you won’t ever do something like what Eli did?”
“I promise you, Brandon.”
“I mean, if you don’t want me anymore, just tell me and I’ll leave. I don’t want to live like that again.”
“Brandon, I will never, ever do anything like what he did.”
“Okay, thank you,” he said.
It broke my heart that he felt the need to thank me for not selling him or for bringing him home after we’d go out. I would always reassure him. No matter how much it would take, I’d always reassure him with patience and compassion.
And I was also going to look into Dr. Elijah Hamilton. If the son of a bitch was still preying on innocent, vulnerable, young minds, I was going to put an end to it.
I spent Saturday relaxing and fucking Brandon. I had been elated that he finally gave me the name of that asshole, and at each available moment, I looked up information on the creep. Sunday was the first time since discovering the name that I was able to actually sit down and begin my thorough search. Brandon was in the safe company of Joshua and Andrew for the basketball game, and they would be gone for most of the afternoon. They were going to text me after the game, and I was going to meet them for dinner at a restaurant not too far from the house.
