True Love Cowboy

by Jennifer Ryan

  The gray-and-white cat sat on the floor licking something off a discarded paper plate. One of the cats had peed on the pile of mail sitting on the dining room table—right next to Emmy’s breakfast dishes. The leftover milk in the bowl had congealed and left a sour scent in the air barely discernible with all the other pungent odors clogging Trinity’s nose.

  The floors were dirty and stained. The kitchen sink overflowed with dishes. The counters were covered in spilled food and crumbs.

  Steph probably figured she had time to clean up before DPHHS came back.

  “Okay, Emmy, please go get your backpack. Make sure it has everything you need for school. Do you have enough clothes at your dad’s?”

  She nodded.

  “Great. Hurry up.”

  Emmy scrunched her mouth. “Are you going to wake her up?”

  “In a minute.” First she wanted to document what she’d found for Jon’s case against Steph. “I need to tell her we’re leaving.” She’d love to just take Emmy and see how Steph reacted when she discovered she was alone in the house and had no idea where Emmy was, but that would be wrong.

  But boy did she want to stick it to Steph for once.

  “Don’t wake her up. She gets really mad.” Worry filled Emmy’s big blue eyes.

  Trinity didn’t care what Steph thought or felt. “Please go get your things and meet me by the door.” She waited for Emmy to run to her room, then she took out her phone and texted Jon.

  TRINITY: Bringing Emmy home with me

  TRINITY: This should explain most of it

  Then she started taking pictures of the apartment and Steph passed out. In all, she sent Jon eight photos of the gross apartment and Steph’s sick day playdate.

  Her phone rang immediately.

  She swiped the screen to accept Jon’s call, but didn’t say anything because Steph sat up, rubbed her bloodshot eyes, raked her hair out of her face, and asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m taking Emmy to Jon’s. You’re in no shape to keep her tonight.”

  “You can’t do that,” she slurred.

  “Or I could just call the cops and let them deal with you, but I hate to put Emmy through that. Or Jon.”

  Steph laughed under her breath, in a way that held more vengeance than humor. “You think he wants you. You’re so stupid. He’s using you. All he wants is your business. That’s what he does. He comes in and takes over everything.”

  Trinity felt that like a punch to the gut. She didn’t want to believe it. Steph was lashing out. But it rang a little true. And she’d make Jon answer for it when she saw him.

  “Like I said, I’m taking Emmy to Jon’s.”

  “No, you’re not.” Steph smacked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, trying to work up some saliva. It only made her look drunker and more out of it. “You may have taken Jon”—she slurred out the words—“but you’re not taking Emmy away from me, too.”

  “You’re drunk. You’re stoned. You left her playing alone outside while you were passed out on the couch. Whoever that guy was partying with you, he hit Emmy on the way out the door just for fun. There’s no fucking way I’m leaving her with you.”

  Steph’s gaze went to Trinity’s phone and a burst of energy made her stand up. “What did you tell him? Is he listening to this?”

  Emmy stood in the entry with her backpack on. “I’m ready.”

  Trinity turned to walk out with Emmy and call the cops because, yeah, it would suck for Emmy and Jon, but Steph and that asshole who hit Emmy should pay for what they’d done. But she was getting Emmy out first.

  She held her hand out to Emmy, but she never reached her. Something cracked against the back of her head. Stars burst in her eyes. In slow motion she saw Emmy’s eyes go wide, her mouth open, and a piercing scream echoed through Trinity’s ears before her knees hit the floor and she fell face-first into the disgusting carpet.

  Something whacked her head again, and then something even bigger and heavier stomped on her back and slammed into her ribs and side over and over, relentlessly.

  Someone screamed again and again. She heard crying.

  And in the chaos she heard Emmy yell, “Mommy, no. You’re killing her!”

  Trinity fought the pain and rolled over and blocked another blow from Steph’s foot with her arms, but her head spun and flashes went off in her eyes, making it hard to see and focus.

  “Daddy!” Emmy yelled.

  Steph grabbed Emmy’s arm and spanked her butt. “Shut up! Go to your room.” She spanked her again and shoved her toward the hallway with another hard blow to the back.

  Emmy fell, got hit again, scrambled on her hands and knees, then rose to her feet and ran.

  Trinity tried to get up, but could barely make it to her hands and knees.

  “You are ruining everything!” Steph spat out and hooked her arm under Trinity’s and hauled her up, dragging her toward the entry. Steph was surprisingly strong. Maybe it was all adrenaline. That seemed to be the only thing keeping Trinity from passing out.

  “You’re not taking my daughter.” She shoved Trinity into the entry closet. Off-balance, Trinity didn’t turn fast enough to escape and the door slammed shut, leaving her in the dark.

  “She’s mine!”

  Trinity went from one nightmare to another, her mind taking her back to being locked in the trunk with no escape when she’d been kidnapped. She clawed at the door and tried to turn the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge.

  “Let me out! You can’t leave me in here! Please!”

  “You can’t take her!” Steph screamed over Trinity begging at the top of her lungs, “Let me out!”

  Her nails bit into her palms, and her fists ached from pounding on the door. She clawed and kicked at the wood and banged on the handle. She screamed and screamed and screamed until nothing came out of her dry throat. She could feel the tears gathered in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, but she couldn’t see anything.

  And then the only thing she felt was her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest, and she couldn’t get any air no matter how hard she tried to suck it in. She was suffocating in the dark where there was no escape.

  And then the blackness swallowed her whole, and she fell into the nothingness.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  At first, Jon was relieved to finally receive a text from Trinity, until he saw what it said. Then the pictures started popping up and he grew livid. He didn’t think he could be any angrier until he called her and heard Steph’s drunk-ass voice.

  He didn’t know why Trinity didn’t say anything to him. She had to have her hands full with Steph and getting Emmy out the door with her.

  But his heart nearly stopped when he heard a thunk and Emmy screamed, “Mommy, no. You’re killing her!”

  He didn’t think. He ran for his car, pulling his keys out of his pocket the second he cleared the door and hit the path to the driveway. He was behind the wheel and peeling out of the driveway before he really registered he was on his way.

  Emmy screamed, “Daddy!”

  His heart shattered. She needed him and he wasn’t there.

  The screams echoed in his ears along with the thuds and the slam of a door.

  Nothing prepared him to hear Trinity’s wailing voice plead with Steph to let her out.

  Everything seemed to happen at once and all on top of each other as the miles passed by in a blur. His mind had trouble following him trying to keep the car on the road, listening to what was happening to Trinity and his daughter, and him having to make the devastating decision to put the call on hold so he could conference in 911. Somehow he managed to hold it together when the dispatcher answered.

  “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

  “My ex is trying to kill my girlfriend.”

  “What is the address of the emergency?”

  He rattled off Steph’s address. “Hurry. Please. My four-year-old is in the house, too. I have an open line to them.�
� He tapped his screen to put all three of them on the line together like he did with so many of his business calls these days.

  Trinity screamed one last time, “Let me out!” Then everything went silent.

  “We have an officer two minutes out.”

  That wasn’t fast enough.

  Why couldn’t he hear Trinity anymore?

  He was too late.

  “Where are you, you little brat?” Steph yelled in the background far away from the phone. “Come out of there right now, Emmy!”

  Emmy didn’t answer. At least he couldn’t hear her say anything.

  “Sir, who is in the house?”

  “Emmy is my daughter. Steph is her mother. Trinity is my girlfriend. Please, you have to help them. Emmy said her mother was killing Trinity and now I can’t hear her at all.”

  “The officers just arrived. Do you know if Steph owns a gun?”

  “I don’t think so.” He didn’t know. And he should since his daughter lived in the house.

  “I said come out of there, Emmy!” More distant pounding.

  “I think Emmy might have locked herself in the bathroom. I told her to do that if she ever felt unsafe.” Why did he have to tell his four-year-old something like that?

  Thank God he did.

  Something crashed closer to the phone.

  “Police! Get down on the floor!”

  For a second Jon breathed a sigh of relief. Help was there.

  “Down on the floor!”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Steph slurred, her voice disgruntled and defiant. “This is my house. She tried to take my kid!”

  Jon relayed what really happened. “Steph went home from work sick and said she was picking up my daughter early. I tried to call them to be sure everything was okay. She didn’t answer, so I sent my girlfriend over to check on Emmy. When Trinity arrived, Steph was passed out on the couch, drunk and stoned based on what the pictures she sent me show. She texted me that she was bringing Emmy home with her. I called when I received the pictures and heard Steph tell Trinity she wasn’t taking Emmy. Then Emmy screamed that her mom was killing Trinity. So tell me, is Trinity alive or dead!” His voice shook and he prayed as hard as he could that she was alive.

  Oh God, please.

  “The officers have one in custody. Your daughter is locked in the bathroom. Alone, she says. Once officers have her out, they’ll search the apartment. We have an ambulance standing by outside.”

  Those ominous words squeezed his heart. “Trinity’s cell phone is somewhere in the apartment. If the officer can find it, I can talk Emmy out of the bathroom.”

  “Just leave her in there to rot,” Steph yelled to the officers in the house.

  “I told you to keep your mouth shut,” the officer ordered.

  The dispatcher came back on the line. “One of the officers is searching for the phone now.”

  Jon tried to listen to every little sound. The officers’ voices in the background talking to Emmy, though he couldn’t really make out the words. Steph grumbling incoherently. The shuffle of footsteps. The creak of . . . a door maybe.

  “Found her. She’s bleeding and unconscious. I feel a pulse. Ma’am. Ma’am. Wake up. Are you all right? There you go.”

  Jon thanked God for the officer’s patient and kind voice and how he relayed everything to the dispatcher, even as Jon overheard it on Trinity’s phone at the same time.

  And then all hell broke loose again.

  “Let me go! You can’t keep me in here!” Trinity shouted. Something fell and scraped on the floor.

  “Damnit. Where are you going?” More scuffling, then nothing.

  “What’s happening?” Jon asked the dispatcher.

  “Not sure. Hold while I get the information.”

  Every second felt like an eternity that ticked by with the pounding of his heart. He was still five minutes away from the apartment complex despite driving like a maniac and breaking every speed law and running three very yellow lights and one that was definitely red as he raced to help his girls.

  “Sir, it appears Trinity was found locked in a closet. When she came to, she was disoriented and frightened by the officer. She ran from the apartment and the officer had to chase her down. She’s apparently experiencing some kind of panic attack.”

  “She was kidnapped and held inside a trunk months ago. She’s having a fucking flashback.”

  “I’ll relay that to the officers and paramedics assisting her right now.”

  Jon finally pulled into the apartment complex and parked behind one of the cruisers with its lights flashing. “I’m here.” He didn’t know if the dispatcher heard him or not, and he jumped out of his car and ran toward the path that led to Steph’s place, but stopped short when he spotted the ambulance with the back doors open wide, an officer holding Trinity’s arms as she thrashed on a stretcher, and a paramedic filling a needle.

  An officer came out of nowhere. “Are you the man who called this in?”

  “Yes.” He took a step toward the ambulance so he could help Trinity, but the officer took his arm and held him still. “Is it your daughter locked in the bathroom in the apartment?”

  He stopped trying to pull free of the officer and turned to him. “Yes.”

  “We need your help. She’s very distraught. We’re trying to talk her out without having to break down the door and traumatize her more.”

  He knew he needed to help Emmy, but he also needed to get to Trinity and help her.

  “Sir, Trinity’s in good hands. They’ll take care of her. We need to take care of your little girl.”

  Jon let the officer pull him toward the apartment and away from Trinity.

  It felt like he was being ripped in two. Everything inside him wanted to be in two places at once.

  He barely noticed the neighbors milling around outside their apartments watching the scene unfold. He tried to take in the apartment as the police officer led the way to the hall. One of the dining room chairs was lying on its side in the entry by the wide-open closet door. Steph must have used it to lock Trinity inside. He stared at the red smears on the stark white panel and smudged all over the handle.

  The officer turned back because Jon had stopped in his tracks, transfixed by what he saw but his mind couldn’t comprehend. “She tried to claw her way out.” The officer filled in the information he didn’t want to believe.

  “You can’t take her from me, you bastard!” Steph tried to shove her way past the officer standing next to her in the living room, but he held her arm in a firm grip.

  “Sit down, or I’ll make you.”

  Jon stared at Steph, not seeing the woman he’d fallen for once, but someone he truly didn’t recognize. “Not only can I take her. I will. You handed her right over to me. You tried to kill Trinity. You’re going to jail. For good, I hope.”

  “She deserved it. She tried to take my kid.”

  Jon noticed the broken beer bottle with blood on it on the floor. Trinity’s blood.

  “I won’t let you near either one of them ever again.” He walked down the hall behind the officer. A third officer knelt at the door with one of those universal keys that opened indoor privacy locks.

  “The apartment manager brought one of these over. I didn’t want to open it until you were here. I think she’d feel safer seeing you.”

  Jon nodded, waited the two seconds it took the officer to open the door, then he filled the doorway so Emmy saw only him, though she’d scooted herself into the niche between the cabinet and toilet with her knees up to her chest and her face buried in them.

  “Emmy, sweet girl, it’s Daddy. You’re okay, now, sweetheart. I’m here.” He slowly crouched in front of her, his nose wrinkling from the overwhelming stench, and his shoes crunched the cat litter dusting the floor. He put his hand on her head. “Baby, come out of there now.”

  Her little wet face rose and her devastated eyes met his. “She killed Trinity.” Her bottom lip trembled, and she burst into tears and launched her
self into his chest and cried her little heart out.

  Jon’s heart broke into a billion pieces. He’d never forgive Steph for doing this to their daughter. “No, sweetheart. Trinity is alive, sweet girl. I just saw her. She’s hurt, but she’s going to be okay.” God, he hoped he wasn’t telling a lie right now. He had no idea how badly Trinity had been hurt or how, other than being bashed over the head with that broken beer bottle.

  “Mommy hit her, then she kicked and kicked and kicked. She wouldn’t stop.” Emmy sobbed.

  “Sir, let’s get her to the ambulance so the paramedics can look her over.”

  He held tight to Emmy, covering her head as he walked her out of the apartment and past Steph. He didn’t want her to see her mom. It would only make her more hysterical.

  One of the officers caught up to them with one of Emmy’s soft blankets from her bed. He draped it over Emmy, and Jon wrapped her up good as he walked to the ambulance, anxious to see Trinity, only to find the ambulance empty. “Where is Trinity?”

  “They already took her to the hospital. She’s got a major head trauma, possibly some broken ribs. Her hands were in pretty bad shape, too,” the officer informed him.

  His heart sank. He should be with her. He needed to see her. She needed to know he was there and he’d take care of her.

  “Please take a seat,” the paramedic instructed. “We’ll take you both to the hospital and have a pediatrician check Emmy out.”

  Jon sat on the gurney. The paramedic had raised one end up into a sitting position. He leaned back and held Emmy tight.

  The officer closed the back door, blocking out the flashing lights and commotion outside.

  Emmy seemed to calm and burrow into his chest, though there was nowhere for her to go.

  “Do you think I can get her vitals?” The paramedic waited patiently.

  Jon rubbed Emmy’s back, soothing her as the crying subsided and she rested against him, hiccuping from the bout of tears. “Hey, baby, we’re just going to get a look at you to be sure you’re okay.” Jon gently eased the blanket off her back, but Emmy winced and tried to move away from where he brushed his hand against her. “Does something hurt?”