Danny thought of the two jobs he held down to pay for his schooling and keep a roof over his head. There was barely enough to keep food in his stomach. He worked long hours in both jobs while carrying a full load of classes. It was the only way he could afford to pay for his education.
The second Lowell Erickson learned that his youngest son was gay, he had kicked Danny to the curb. He refused to pay for Danny’s education or even help him with an apartment. He had just given Danny two hours to gather his stuff and leave the family estate.
Danny barely had three thousand dollars in his bank account when he left home, a present from an aunt when she passed away, the car he’d been given for his twenty-first birthday, and some boxes of personal items. Everything he had gained in the last three years he had earned on his own.
“I don’t want your money.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to leave me the hell alone.”
“Done.”
“You said that way too quickly,” Danny said. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Blood Contract
13
“I am speaking the truth, Daniel, and I’ll sign anything you want to that effect if you agree to give me the blood sample I want, and donate the blood needed if you are a good match.”
Danny’s eyes narrowed. His father was meeting his demands way too easily. There had to be a catch but damned if he could find it.
“Fine, have something drawn up, and I will give you a blood sample.”
Lowell reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his cell phone. “Stewart, please come into the dean’s office, and bring Mr. Sullivan with you.”
Danny’s jaw dropped when his father snapped his phone closed and dropped it back into his pocket. “You knew I’d agree. You already had this set up.”
“Of course.”
Danny hated the smug look on his father’s face. What he wouldn’t give to be able to knock it off of his face. “What would you have done if I demanded the money?”
“Paid you.”
Figures.
Before Danny could reply, not that he knew exactly what he would have said as confused as he was, the door behind him opened up, and two men walked in. The first one Danny recognized as Stewart, his father’s assistant. Stewart was never far from his father’s side. Danny was pretty sure they spent more time together than his father spent with his mother.
The other man Danny didn’t recognize. He would have remembered if he had met the man before. Besides the fact that he was built like a brick shithouse, there was a glint in his dark eyes that made Danny shiver as if a cold draft had suddenly blown through the room. Danny couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but something told him to be very wary of this man.
“Do you have the papers, Stewart?” Lowell asked.
14
Stormy Glenn
“Of course, sir.” Stewart laid his briefcase down on the dean’s desk and opened it up. He pulled out a file and handed it over to Lowell. “This is everything you require, sir.”
“Very good,” Lowell said as he flipped the file open and read over whatever was inside. After a moment, he snapped the file closed and handed it to Danny. “You’ll find that everything is in order as I said it would be.”
Danny took the file from his father and opened it up. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised when he found a legally binding contract inside.
He read it over quickly. He wasn’t that versed in legalize, but the contract seemed fairly simple. He could even see his father’s chicken scrawl signature at the bottom of the page. The man should have been a doctor instead of an investment banker. His signature was horrible.
The contract was short and sweet, just a single page. If Danny agreed to supply his father with a blood test and donate the blood required to the appropriate people if he proved to be a match, his father promised to never contact him again. As hard as Danny tried to see the hidden trap within the contract, he could find none.
When he flipped the file closed, his father held a pen out to him.
“If you will sign the contract, we can get on with this. Mr. Sullivan is here to draw your blood and see if you are a possible match.”
Danny frowned and glanced around. “Shouldn’t I go to the hospital to have my blood drawn or something?”
“Please forgive my interference, Mr. Erickson,” Mr. Sullivan said as he stepped forward, “but I am a trained phlebotomist. I can take your blood and test it right here. And I only need a drop of your blood to perform my test.”
Danny blinked in surprise, one, because of how soft-spoken the large man was, and two, because he had thought the man was talking to his father when he said Mr. Erickson. “Uh, I suppose that would be okay.”