“Bri,” Drago calls out my name, halting me. “Don’t. This isn’t you. You’re a good cop. You can’t shoot him.”
“He deserves to die.”
“I know. And I agree with you, but that still doesn’t make it right. You’d lose your job and face criminal action for shooting him like that.”
“You going to listen to him?” Diaz laughs. “You don’t have it in you to pull that trigger, pig.”
“No one else has to know,” I say to Drago, ignoring Diaz.
“You would know, and it would eat at you. You know I’m right, baby. Lower your gun.”
“He killed—” I can’t even say it without getting choked up. My father is right. I have to face this eventually or it could very well break me like it did my mom. I think I’m starting to understand that now. It doesn’t matter how strong I am physically or mentally; there are still things that can bring down the strongest person.
“And he’ll pay.” Drago’s words are a promise. “He did, but Gabriel is here. Please go find my son, Bri. Save him.”
That stops me. I lower my weapon to my side, cutting my eyes to see D is holding his side. Worry seeps into my bones at the sight of slick liquid coating his entire hand in red.
“You believe he’s yours?”
“That’s for a later discussion, just please go find him.”
As much as I don’t want to leave Drago hurt, I do need to find Gabriel. Chasity has likely heard all the shots fired, so who knows if she and Gabriel are even still here. Knowing her though, she probably left him scared and alone and hightailed it out of here.
I’m coming for you sweet, boy. I will find you. God help anyone that gets in my way.
Sirens are the first thing I hear when I climb back onto the pier. I hope like hell one of them is an ambulance. No matter what Drago said, he’s badly injured and needs emergency medical attention. Gabriel first, and then I’ll get him the help he requires.
I take off running faster than I’ve ever run before. I haul ass like a life depends on it, and it does—more than one depends on me.
Entering the warehouse, I scan the interior, noting Lance isn’t where he had laid motionless when I left. No Houston. He could have possibly got away. No matter what, I saw him. If he isn’t dead, a warrant for his arrest will be issued before the day is out. I’ll make sure of it one way or another. Plus, he’ll need medical attention after being shot, so either way, I’ll get him. I know I will.
I run up the metal stairs, entering the only office on this level to stop dead in my tracks.
Eric is holding Gabriel, bundled into his arms and is staring intently down at the boy in his arms. A boy I feared I’d never see again. Eric’s head lifts, his intense eyes meeting mine.
“You found him.”
“No,” I counter. “Apparently you did.”
His lips tip up. “You got here first. Disobeyed my orders and got yourself caught. You could have—”
“How did you know that?” I step forward, not able to remain at a distance now that I have my sights finally on Gabe.
“Doesn’t matter,” he breathes, meeting me as he takes a step toward me. “You want him?”
I don’t argue. I’ve waited long enough for this moment. My anxiety won’t be uncoiled until he’s safe in my arms. When I take him, it’s like I can finally fill my lungs once again.
“Where’s his mother? She was here. She set me up.”
“She isn’t his mother, but that bitch is currently in a patrol car being carted off to jail as we speak.”
“Drago’s been hurt. Diaz shot him.”
Before I can tell Eric to call for help, he sidesteps me. The metal stairs clank at the force of his feet running down the stairs. I know I should be following him. I need to make sure D is okay and Diaz is cuffed. I don’t care that he’s injured. Cuffs will be around his wrists before he leaves here if I have to put them on him myself.
He has people everywhere. Once he’s carted off in an ambulance, he could disappear before he ever reaches the hospital. No. I can’t allow that to happen. I have to see him there and stay until he’s taken and booked. But I don’t want to hand this little guy over to anyone. I don’t want him to leave my arms.
His eyes flutter, as if he’s trying so hard not to fall asleep. My mind runs away for the millionth time, wondering how he’s been cared for in the last few weeks. He doesn’t look malnourished, but looks can always be deceiving.
Connie. I’ll call my partner. Even if she isn’t technically still my partner, that’s the place she’ll always have in my mind. She can make sure he’s checked over at the hospital while I’m ensuring Diaz stays under arrest.
I take the stairs slower than Eric, not wanting to jar Gabriel.
Once I walk out the bay door, I see Drago limping toward me with Eric beside him. I quicken my pace until I reach D.
Drago eyes Gabriel before taking his son into his arms, bringing him to his chest, fusing the little guy to his own body. Looking down, he watches his son as I stand frozen in place watching D’s eyes. Emotions, too many to decipher between, pass through him. He really does believe Gabriel is his. I see it clearly, but then I see so much more than just the recognition in Drago’s eyes.
“D,” I whisper. “He’s safe now.”
Drago’s dark gaze snaps to mine. It’s then my chest is pierced yet again with a shattering ache. Liquid pools in D’s lower lids, threatening to spill over.
I’m about to step forward to embrace him, to comfort him, to love him—but that attempt is killed before I’m able to make a move. Gabriel is thrust back into my arms so abruptly I stagger backward with him.
“Take him.” There is a strain in Drago’s voice and I know from looking at him that he’s barely holding himself together.
But why?
His son is safe now.
Gabe whimpers from the sudden movements, so I quickly tighten my hold on him, not taking my eyes off his dad as he retreats away from us.
“D,” I call out, not understanding why he’s slowly stepping away.
His eyes are on Gabe and with each step, worry starts to seep into my skin, taking root in my bones. When his head starts to turn from side to side even slower than his steps, alarms start to sound off in my head.
“Drago,” I say a little louder, hoping to get his attention. It doesn’t work. “Drago,” I bark, making the baby wail. Anger starts to present itself in my chest.
“No.” He holds up his palm, stopping me when I start in his direction. “No, Bri. Stay where you are.”
“What are you doing?”
Where is he going? He can’t possibly be leaving after his son has just been found. We don’t even know if he’s okay. He’s been gone almost three weeks. Anything could have been done to him in that time.
Gabriel starts crying and I know he’s sensing something is wrong.
I might not have killed Diaz like I thought I wanted to, but at this rate, I’m going to murder D before all of this is said and done.
“It’s okay, little man. You’re safe now.” I pull him tighter against my chest. I’ll have to worry about his father later. I need to get Gabriel to the ER and have him checked over. Until that’s done, I can’t think about anything else. I thought I could let Connie do it, but now that he’s back in my arms, I’m not releasing him unless I’m forced to do so. And even then, it’ll be a fight to pry him from my arms.
“Diaz is dead.” Eric’s words penetrate my ears as he steps in front of me.
It was only a shot to the leg. No way he had time to bleed out so . . . Drago. His promise that Diaz would pay pierces my thoughts. He killed him. All that talk about it being wrong if I had done it, and what did he do?
“I can’t deal with that right now, Alders.” I shake my head. “He’s more important,” I say matter of fact before stepping around him, leaving the scene.
22
Where the hell is he?
I eye the back of the courtroom for the twentieth tim
e in the last ten minutes. Gabriel’s case is up next on the judge’s docket and Drago should have been here by now. It’s been five long weeks since I’ve seen either of them—and every second has been hell.
After Drago left, I took Gabriel straight to the Emergency Room where he was deemed in good health. It was a welcomed surprise and a relief until Judy Hearn showed up with a judge signed court order issuing custody to her department.
I almost lost my shit right there in the hospital. There is nowhere safer for Gabriel to be than with me. Apparently, she felt differently after he’d been kidnapped from my care, and now that any threats have been squashed, she was okay assigning his care to a real foster family.
From a dependable source inside her department, I know he’s already been moved twice because the families couldn’t deal with his excessive crying. Can you blame him? He’s been tossed around like a sack of potatoes without anyone doing what was in his best interest.
I know I’m not his biological parent; I don’t pretend to be. If it were anything like those first few nights in my care, I know it was hard, but I’d finally got him settled into a routine when I had him. With my sister-in-law’s help, I found a routine that worked, and I spent time with him, getting him used to me. I miss how he used to fall asleep so easily when his little bare chest would be snuggled against mine. He was at ease, and so was I. I didn’t realize that until he was taken.
Jackson and Alana don’t understand why I’m here today. It was necessary. There was no way in hell I wouldn’t be seated where I am right now. Which was why I didn’t ask them to help with my backup plan. My dad, on the other hand, came through for me big time, and I can’t thank him enough for seeing this through my eyes even if he doesn’t agree with me.
No matter how much I’d love to be Gabriel’s mother, I’m still rooting for Drago to walk in here and accept responsibility for him as he would if Gabriel had been planned all along.
Speaking of . . .
I suck in air the moment he pushes through the double doors of the courtroom. Our eyes lock almost immediately. For a split second, my heart soars—only to come crashing down to the ground when he diverts his stare. He goes so far out of his way not to look at me that he turns, walking around the last pew to the other side of the wall before finding a seat in the first row.
Does he not even want to be near me?
I shouldn’t be surprised. He hasn’t accepted any of my calls, and not wanting to make a fool of myself, I haven’t shown up at his work or house to confront him, even though that’s exactly what I’ve wanted to do since he walked away from us. I want answers. I deserve them.
“Docket number 20045,” the judge reads from the piece of paper he’s holding before looking up. “The custody of Gabriel Acerbi is to be determined. Are all parties here?”
A man seated next to Drago rises, buttoning his suit jacket. “Everyone is here, your honor.”
His head twists, eyeing me as if to ensure I’m still here. I’m guessing he’s Drago’s attorney. I did catch him looking at me a couple of times before D showed up, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. It’s not like I’m foreign to this court. I’ve been in this room plenty of times previous to today when I had to testify against the defense.
“From my understanding, the child’s mother is out on bail pending trial for accessory to kidnapping?” The judge looks to the lady sitting at a table off to the side. I recognize her but hadn’t noticed her sitting there before. She must have slipped in the side door when I was watching Drago enter. She works for Judy Hearn; one of her caseworkers and must be the one assigned to Gabe.
“That’s correct, your honor.”
“And the child’s father?” The judge looks directly at D or his attorney.
“He’s here. My client wishes to waive all rights to the child.” I gasp, not actually expecting that declaration. No! He can’t. He wouldn’t. Would he?
“Mr. Acerbi,” the judge says. “Please rise and tell me why it is that you do not want to take responsibility for a child you helped create. Explain that to me,” he orders. The judge crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back into his seat as he waits.
Drago stands, but there are several beats before he starts to speak.
“Your honor,” he addresses the judge. “I’m sure you know where I got my last name from.”
My eyes cut back to the judge who remains expressionless. He’s not denying or confirming. He’s probably questioning how that is relevant, same as I’m doing.
“One could say bearing the same last name as me, could very well put him in more danger than he was when he was kidnapped. I don’t think it’s in his best interest to come home with me.”
“Have you thought this over fully, Mr. Acerbi?”
“Yes, your honor, I have.”
“Do you want to think it over some more?” the judge asks, giving Drago another chance to take his request back.
Take it back, D, I will him, my eyes boring into the back of his head. Take it the fuck back! It was a mistake, even the judge knows that, so why is he remaining silent. Take it back, dammit.
“No, your honor.” Drago’s words come out harsh and I know he said them through clenched teeth.
“Mr. Lawrence, is your client of sound mind in your opinion?”
Drago’s lawyer looks to his right. I can’t see his face to know what he’s saying, if anything, and it pisses me off.
Don’t do this, Drago. Don’t give up on Gabriel like this. Just don’t, my thoughts silently plea, begging him even though he’s not looking in my direction.
“Yes, your honor, he is.”
It’s then that Drago turns his head, looking behind his lawyer’s head, finding my gaze. I want to punch him in the face until our eyes lock and I see devastation staring back at me. It’s the plea in them that I don’t understand at first. He’s silently begging something of me, but what?
Instincts are urging me to go to him, and then I remember he’s just given up all of his rights to his son and the same anger that manifested when Drago walked away from us reappears.
“It seems neither parent is fit or doesn’t want the hardship of raising a child, so where does that leave us?” he addresses the social worker again, and I’m not surprised at the judge’s brass jab at D’s expense. Although Drago doesn’t seem to be paying him any attention, his eyes are still locked on mine, begging me.
My thoughts and gaze are cut off when my father’s lawyer stands, stealing my attention. Patrick places one hand over his wrist on his opposite arm. “Your honor, if I may have the floor?”
“Mr. Camden,” the judge draws out. “What business do you have with this case?”
“My client, here”—he turns slightly, nodding his head down in my direction—“wishes to petition the court for sole custody of Gabriel Acerbi, seeing how he doesn’t have another relative here requesting custody.”
I take a steady breath, trying to calm myself.
That’s it? Drago isn’t going to fight for his son. He doesn’t want him.
I watch him leave, my eyes never leaving his body until he’s slipped out the door.
How can this be happening right now?
He’s mine. Maybe not officially yet, but legally Gabriel has now been awarded to me, pending my petition. The judge wants to make sure I’m a good fit and there aren’t any relatives hiding in the woodwork that would be better than me.
No one is better qualified than me. That’s not being presumptuous. I know in my heart of hearts that I can care for him better than anyone. I didn’t believe that when I had hopes that he would leave the courthouse with Drago, but being how the cards fell, I do now.
Petitioning the court for custody was only my backup plan if Drago didn’t step up to his role as Gabriel’s father. Hearing him denounce his rights to his son broke something inside my chest loose.
How could he do it? How could those words leave his mouth? How could he not want Gabriel no matter the cost?
I
know he wasn’t conceived out of love. He wasn’t planned, yet, even I realize sometimes the paths we don’t see for ourselves are often the best things that can come along. I never planned to fall in love with a child whose genetic makeup wasn’t part of my own, but I did, and I don’t regret one single second of it.
I call bullshit that Drago isn’t better equipped at protecting him. He’s kept his brother and sister out of their father’s world. I have no doubt that he could do the same where Gabe is concerned.
“So, why didn’t he?”
That question dies on my tongue when the alarm app on my cell phone goes off.
The social worker, apprehensive that it would be me leaving here with Gabriel instead of his father, told me to meet her on the steps outside the courthouse in fifteen minutes and Gabriel would be waiting. That was ten minutes ago and I won’t be late to get him.
I close my eyes and breathe a long breath of air inside the bathroom stall I’ve been in for over five minutes.
Upon opening them back up, I pick up the stick that’s been sitting on top of the used sanitary trash bin hanging on the wall.
Positive.
23
I’m pissed.
Beyond pissed off at him.
So pissed off I could rip off the muscle between his legs that I like so much and beat him black and blue with it. I can’t fucking believe he showed up, denouncing his rights to Gabriel. Who the fuck does that? Shitty fucking people—that’s who.
I really thought I knew him. I thought he cared for his family. Fuck, he acted like Luca and Caprice mean everything to him. But not Gabriel? Not his son?
I’m at a loss here. I don’t understand, and because I don’t get it, anger sweeps in, violently pelting my chest. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to hit something—or someone preferably.
Dirty War: Dirty Justice Book Two Page 20
