“By the way, I won’t be able to fulfill the photography session, for obvious reasons,” Morgan added.
“I understand,” I said. My mind went back to piecing things together.
“I know it’s a lot. I called my older brothers last night and told them. They flew out so we could tell Chase together.”
“How did he take the news?” I asked.
“Shocked. Stunned. Surprised. Eager and excited. He’s been waiting since he was seventeen to be able to be a dad to Brandon. I explained to him that any communication needs to move through you. Andrew was kind enough to call you so we could talk. I’m hoping you’ll consider meeting with Chase at least.”
“I’ll meet with Chase, but it’ll be without Brandon.”
“I understand.”
“If you don’t mind, I have a few questions, and I’m sure more will come up, but I’m just curious about your family.”
“Please, feel free to ask me anything.” Morgan leaned back and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He pulled up a picture and set it on the coffee table between us. “This is our family a few months ago at Christmas. This is my mom, Kristin, and dad, Charles. They both were teachers at USC. This is Hollis; he’s the oldest. This is Patrick. He’s a month younger than Hollis. Our family took him in when they were in high school. He came from a terribly abusive home. And next to me is Chase.”
In front of me was a picture of what appeared like a nice family. While I looked at all the people, I focused the most on Chase. The eyes and mouth resembled Brandon’s. The words Morgan said about Chase stuck out in my head, about him being a victim of abuse. I glanced at the one they took in who also suffered from an abusive home.
I didn’t have to look at Andrew to know what he was thinking. Like me, I was sure he was thinking about how unfortunate it was that Brandon’s father was also a victim of sexual abuse. Then my stomach dropped when it dawned on me that Morgan and his family had no idea the hell Brandon had lived in for several years.
“What do Patrick and Chase do for a living?” I asked.
“Patrick is part of Hollis’ Team Dragon for TCF. His team is training a group of young fighters. Patrick is part of the promotion side of it. He helps set up press conferences and promotes the Team Dragon fighters. Hollis still does lots of appearances and events, so Patrick helps with that. Chase is creative and does graphic designs for businesses. He also volunteers at a weekly support group for male victims of violence and abuse.”
My mouth had gone dry as I thought about the unfortunate similarity between Brandon and his father. Morgan caught me off guard with a question of his own.
“Are you the man Brandon ran off with after he graduated high school?”
I glanced at Andrew’s narrowed eyes and could tell the question had caused him to tense up. I looked at Morgan again.
“No. I’m not the man he moved in with after high school.”
“Okay. I just thought I’d ask. Brandon seemed to fall off the face of the earth. After the death of Haley, I thought he might resurface at her funeral,” Morgan said.
I closed my eyes and rubbed my thumb and middle finger over my eyes as I tried to think of how much to divulge.
“Morgan, I appreciate your openness and frankness, and I won’t sugarcoat anything either. I won’t go into all the details, but you should know before I meet with Chase that Brandon appeared to have fallen off the face of the earth for a while because he did. Brandon was involved with a man who eventually sold him into a sex traffic ring.”
There was no way to deliver that kind of information gently. It was the ugly truth, but Chase needed to be prepared for that. Morgan’s face had paled. He stood and walked around the loveseat and paced the length of the couch a few times.
“Oh my God,” he mumbled. He grasped his stomach as he paced and rubbed his forehead with his other hand. “How… how does that happen?”
I understood the shock followed by the confusion that Morgan must have felt. Human and sex trafficking is an ugly thing that people would rather turn the other cheek to. In many people’s eyes, something that sinister doesn’t happen to an eighteen-year-old boy from Beverly Hills.
“Persuasive and sophisticated implementation.” I paused for a moment. The men responsible for Brandon’s disappearance weren’t run-of-the-mill thugs looking to make a quick buck. These were methodical men who developed, planned, and carried out the plan with precision. “He was there from the summer after he graduated high school until a week after he had turned twenty-one,” I said.
Morgan stopped pacing and gripped the back of the loveseat with both hands. He took a step backward and put all his weight on his arms as they held him up.
“I was at the hospital where the FBI was sending the victims who were found at the house.”
Morgan nodded and then looked up.
“Are you, uh, a doctor?” he asked. I felt bad for Morgan because it was clear that he’d become bothered enough that it was affecting his speech and train of thought. When I spoke with Morgan yesterday with Brandon, he was very organized and well-spoken with his thoughts.
“No. I’m the hospital administrator. However, I have a background in psychology and was available that night to assist. Brandon was the last to arrive at the hospital, and the victims all had trauma counselors assigned to them. I was Brandon’s.”
Understandably, Morgan seemed to struggle with this information. His reaction was genuine, and he showed empathy rather than sympathy. The ability to differentiate the two was incredibly important when interacting with Brandon.
