Savage Son. Corey Mitchell

      PINNACLE BOOKS

       Kensington Publishing Corp.

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      For Sabrina Mitchell.

       Welcome home, sweet girl.

      Some names have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals connected to this story.

      PINNACLE BOOKS are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

       119 West 40th Street

       New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2010 by Corey Mitchell

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

      If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed “ to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book. “

      Pinnacle and the P logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

      ISBN-13: 978-0-7860-3994-4

       ISBN-10: 0-7860-3994-9

      First Kensington Mass Market Edition: June 2010

      eISBN-13: 978-0-7860-2508-4

       eISBN-10: 0-7860-2508-5

      Kensington Electronic Edition: June 2010

      1

      Wednesday, December 10, 2003, 6:00 p.m.

       Whitaker Residence

       Heron Way—Sugar Lakes Subdivision

       Sugar Land, Texas

      Nestled cozily inside their luxurious home in the tony neighborhood of Sugar Lakes, in the upscale small city of Sugar Land, Texas, just outside the crime-filled, polluted metropolis of Houston, the Whitaker family gathered for a special occasion. They were to celebrate the impending graduation the following day of their eldest son, Bart, from Sam Houston State University.

      Outside, the pre-Christmas chill had finally started to kick in and the crispness permeated the neighborhood. Heron Way, the street upon which the Whitaker home resided, was bedecked with the ever-popular icicle lights. Doors were festooned with oversized evergreen wreaths, and life-sized wooden cutouts of most major Christian-based, Christmas-themed characters were erected, like a movie set for a Western.

      Inside, the Whitakers huddled together in the warmth of their lovely home, so painstakingly tended to by the family matriarch, Patricia Whitaker, known to her family and friends as “Tricia.” She made sure nearly every inch of their home was covered in Christmas knickknacks—from Santa snow globes, to fake snow, to little green candy canes laid everywhere with care. But there was an even deeper devotion in this household, more than mere secular Santa–ism. Tricia and her husband, Kent, were both deeply religious people who made sure that “Christ” remained in Christmas in the Whitaker household. Kent and Tricia held tightly to their faith and made sure to incorporate their devotion into their everyday lives, whether they were attending church services and functions, or simply with how they comported themselves in their daily routines and dealings with other people.

      Kent and Tricia also made it a point to teach the bountiful lessons of Jesus Christ and his Holy Father to their own two sons, Thomas, who preferred to be addressed by his nickname, “Bart,” and his younger brother, Kevin. Both sons were outstanding in the eyes of their parents and both had made strides toward living a Christ-filled life.

      “I’m so happy,” Tricia whispered to Kent. He smiled back at his lovely bride, who, at fifty-one years old, looked as beautiful to him as the day they first met. He still felt a rush of warmth in her presence, and he knew he loved her more today than he had all those years ago.

      “Me too,” Kent replied. “I knew he could do it.”

      The couple stopped what they were doing and looked up at the portrait of their family, placed over the fireplace mantel. Their twenty-three-year-old son, Bart, was ready to begin his adult life with a college degree in hand. He was brilliant, they said to one another, and now he would be able to step out into the real world and let others see his true intelligence.

      “All right, Bart”—Kent Whitaker got his son’s attention—“in honor of this wondrous occasion, your mother and I decided to get you something special to commemorate your hard work and dedication to finish your studies and earn that degree.”

      Bart stood next to the hearth and grinned. The handsome, though slightly pudgy, son beamed back in his parents’ direction. He was dressed nicely in a casual pair of brown corduroy pants, a burgundy long-sleeved shirt, and preppy bowling shoes. He smiled in eager anticipation as to what it was his overly generous parents were giving him this time.

      Kent handed Bart a wrapped gift, about the size of an old-fashioned small toaster oven. Bart thanked his father as he received the package. He stood near the family Christmas tree, which was already overflowing with gifts, even though Christmas was still more than two weeks away. He looked like a little kid whose parents would allow him to open one of his presents before Santa came.

      Instead of diving right in, however, Bart played up the moment. He looked at the gift, held it up to his ear, and began to shake it vigorously. He smiled as he tried to guess what was inside. “Hmmmm, I’d say it’s a coffee mug.” His parents played along. His younger brother, Kevin, smiled as well.

      “No, Bart, just open it,” his mother playfully ordered.

      “Yeah, c’mon, Bart. Your mother went to a lot of trouble to find this for you,” his father declared. “It’s not every day one of our boys graduates from college.”

      Bart returned the smiles and hungrily tore into the package. After he removed the wrapping and the bow, he found himself holding a green box. The outside of the box looked like the interior of a fluorescent aquarium, complete with rocky coral shelves. He knew this was no ordinary box. He also knew it was no coffee mug.

      Bart flipped the box over in an effort to try and figure out the best spot where to open it. As he did, he spotted Rolex on the opposite side. His eyes lit up. He had always wanted a Rolex watch, but he never had enough money to purchase one of the elite time-pieces.

      Tricia’s smile was wide enough to make every orthodontist happy as she watched her oldest boy unwrap his gift. She could not have been prouder—especially since she