Chapter Eight: Gone.

(Tobias's POV)

I really hope Tris can find Jake, I've got no idea where he is. He's probably hanging out with his friends ditching school somewhere. So I'm not overly worried, I mean, we all ditched when we were in our youth years.

It's an hour after Tris first called me when I get a call. The caller id is my mate Evander. He's either calling about 3 possible things. 1. He's calling to say Jake has done some sort of minor crime with his mates, since Evander is a policeman here. 2. He's dating some new girl. 3. He can't find his "lucky" gun.

"Sup, Evander," I say into the phone.

"Hi Four. Um, we have found your son. Please come to your house as soon as possible. We have some news,"

"Alright," I simply say. It's nothing big, it can't be. It's probably like my son got beat up or something. Which is a big deal. But it's not a big deal like he's done murder.

I hang up, tell the woman I was doing the plumbing for that I need to go and that it's urgent. I tell her that the police need me and that it's something to do with my son. The woman's face goes paler and she nods. Maybe Jake has done something bad enough to be mentioned on the radio or whatever.

I drive back to the house and I see Tris sitting on the sofa, her eyes bloodshot and teary. Her legs are tucked up to her head and her face is resting on her knees. She sees me and bursts into tears. She jumps up and hugs me tight. I spot Niyah in her wheelchair beside the sofa, she's crying too.

I hug my wife and turn to Evander and another policewoman I don't know the name of. "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" I say uncertain of what I'm asking for.

"Well. Mr Eaton, I'm terribly sorry... We've got bad news, you may want to sit down,"

Tris leads me down to the sofa and she buries her head in my shoulder.

"We've found... A body," Evander says slowly. "We have found a body and we believe it to be Jake's. I'm so very sorry, Jake is dead,"

(Tris's POV)

It was so painful watching Tobias's reaction. His face just fell. It fell and tears went down his face and his fists tightened. Sadness turned to anger though. He was up, shouting and thumping his fists against the walls. I scream for him to stop. Niyah cried more and the police people looked down in sorrow. I hear the cracking of his hands.

After his anger has been taken out onto the wall, he collapses to his knees had cries. I comfort him and I cry too. Why. Why did this have to happen? Life was perfect. I had a happy, loving husband and 2 beautiful children and my third on the way...

We cried for a while, but then it just got pointless. The police people made us tea and we all sat down and talked.

"You will find his killer, right?" I whisper to the policewoman, who is called Lorraine.

She nods. "Of course. I'm so sorry for your loss," She smiles sadly and I nod and lower my head. Don't cry, don't cry. Your eyes are already salty and throbbing. I think to myself.

But how can I stop crying? How can I keep it together when my boy is gone and all the memories of him are here in the house? How can I not cry when my family could potentially been torn apart by this?

I look around the room and my bloodshot eyes find the picture of Jake and Niyah. There they are, smiling and beaming at the wedding. All gone. There's no smiles on my Daughter's face. There probably won't be for weeks.

Tobias is on the sofa now. I persuaded him to get a few hours of rest, since he needs to calm down and catch up on sleep since he was out last night with his friends, Fido and Keri. He looks so peaceful there; asleep and lightly breathing.

It's late evening now and I think about going to bed, but I can't sleep. I can't, knowing that my child is gone. He's been taken from me; and I can't get him back. I rub the tattoo of his initials which lies on my knuckles. I break into another round of tears. I can't contain myself. I'm a wreck.

I must of cried myself to sleep because I find Niyah shaking me awake gently in the morning. She smiles very weakly at me and I give her a hug back. We have breakfast at a silent table while all the erudite forensics scientists come in and investigate our house.

He's gone. He's left. He's never coming back. Oh Jake...