Maniac

Elite Protection Services Intoxicating Captivating Exasperating Infuriating Satisfying Time Served Endangered Species Dangerous Breed Domesticated Beast Necessary Evils Unhinged Psycho Moonstruck Headcase Damaged Mad Man Lunatic Maniac Jericho’s Boys Paladin Wages of Sin Bad Habits Play Dirty Head Games Standalones Disciplinary Action CONTENTS Prologue 1. Thomas 2. Aiden 3. Thomas 4. Aiden 5. Thomas 6. Aiden 7. Thomas 8. Aiden 9. Thomas 10. Aiden 11. Thomas 12. Aiden 13. Thomas 14. Aiden 15. Thomas 16. Aiden 17. Thomas 18. Aiden 19. Thomas 20. Aiden 21. Aiden Epilogue Afterword About the Author MANIAC necessary evils book seven * * * Copyright © 2023 Onley James www.onleyjames.com All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. This book is a work of fiction and does not represent any individual living or dead. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Cover and Interior Formatting by We Got You Covered Book Design Trigger warning: This book contains discussions of child abuse, sexual assault, intimate partner violence, suicide, and torture of bad people who totally deserve it. SUBJECT: AIDEN After years of single-handedly raising a small group of psychopathic children, Dr. Thomas Mulvaney was rarely surprised anymore. But sitting across from Marshall Kendrick in his large stately home in Annandale, he had to admit, he was taken aback by the man’s audacious request. “This is a blatant abuse of your power,” Thomas said, doing his best to keep his voice even. Kendrick sniffed, shoulders raising at Thomas’s admonishment. “Maybe so, but I’m doing it anyway, and you have far more to lose than I do.” That wasn’t exactly true. In the grand scheme of things, Project Watchtower was probably worth more to the government than the man sitting across from him, but beneath Kendrick’s defensiveness, Thomas could sense his fear. So, he didn’t call him out on the validity of his statement. Besides, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued. Instead, he shook his head. “But he’s your son.” Kendrick set his jaw, shaking his head before Thomas even finished his short statement. “Whoever that is in there? That’s not the boy I raised. That…thing… He’s a monster.” Thomas stared at Kendrick, eyes boring into him, like if he just studied him long enough he might glean whatever it was inside that would make him say such a thing about his own child. “What happened?” When Kendrick hesitated, Thomas pushed. “I won’t take him if you’re not honest with me.” “He beat a kid to death with a fifty-pound weight,” Kendrick said, voice raw, eyes welling with tears he quickly pushed back. That was aggressive. A blitz attack most likely. Something born of fury, not a well-thought-out plan. “Why’d he do it?” Thomas asked. “Does it matter?” Kendrick spit back, looking at Thomas like perhaps he was a monster, too. That was a question many who knew the real him had likely volleyed about several times over, but the truth was, it didn’t actually matter. Part of Thomas felt life would have been easier for him if he’d lacked guilt or empathy. Unfortunately for him, he had both in spades. Thomas rephrased his question. “Did you ask him why he did it?” “He won’t speak to me,” Kendrick said, digging his thumb and forefinger into his eyelids, like he was hoping he could just make the situation disappear if he rubbed hard enough. Making a dead kid disappear was damn near impossible without the proper backing, but Kendrick had the government on his side. “What can you tell me about what happened?” Kendrick dropped his hands to his desk, then found his glass, slugging back whatever clear liquid was within before saying, “He did it in my garage. We were all home. He didn’t care. He walked into the house covered in blood. Scared the shit out of his mother. He just walked right past us and went to take a shower. Left the kid’s corpse where he killed him.” “Kid? You keep saying kid. If he murdered a child, I’m not taking him, Watchtower be damned.” Kendrick’s hand flailed. “Not an actual kid, but a kid to me. He was nineteen. Three years older than Aiden.” Aiden. The A name wasn’t lost on Thomas. All his sons had A names. Was this fate? Kismet? Perhaps. Or maybe Kendrick’s son was just a hot-tempered monster who’d beaten someone to death for no reason. But none of this would matter if Kendrick hadn’t taken the necessary steps to shield his son. Thomas shifted in his seat, propping an elbow on the arm of the chair. “What kind of damage control has been done?” “Once I managed to calm my wife down and prevent her from calling the cops, I called in professionals. They disposed of the body, sanitized the garage, and got rid of Aiden’s clothes. I did manage to get him to admit he and the kid weren’t friends or even associated in any way people knew. Also, it’s been over ten days and the family hasn’t even filed a missing persons report. I’m not sure what to make of that but it bodes well for us.” There was no ‘us.’ Not to Thomas. He wasn’t taking Aiden off Kendrick’s hands until he knew exactly what had caused the boy to snap. It was easy making a child in the foster system disappear and reappear but Aiden was sixteen, almost seventeen. He had friends, high school transcripts. A social security number. This was going to take more than a few phone calls to make Aiden his. But if this was an isolated incident, something that happened in a moment of anger, Aiden should be punished by the law, not taught to kill others. He didn’t fit the code. But it was clear Kendrick would