by M. N. Forgy
The air is sucked from my lungs. “No!” I wheeze, shooting up from my chair. I glare at Eric, who is smiling proudly. Stepping forward, I’m more than ready to give myself the treat of slamming his face into that table. My lawyer grabs my arms, stopping me. “You’ll be held in contempt if you touch him,” he warns.
“No. He can’t get away with this!” I scream, pointing at Eric.
My eyes fill with tears as my heart is smothered with the inevitable feeling of being empty. I carried Piper for nine months, had her naturally all on my own. Then he showed up at the hospital, and that was when it all went wrong. He saw how happy she made me, and he knew he could take it away… and he just did. This is a game to him. A tug of war based on control and I just fell on my ass, letting the rope slide against my palms.
***
The courtroom is empty, but I can’t seem to get my ass out of the chair. Everything from the moment I saw Piper’s ultrasound picture, to hearing her heartbeat, and hearing her first cry play in my head. I sob. How did that judge know all that about me? I thought those things were hidden from your record when you turned eighteen. Why didn’t my lawyer fight for me? I narrow my eyes and bite my lip in confusion. I need to know. I demand to know. I stand on shaky legs and walk to where the judge sat. He slipped into a room just behind his stand. I’ve heard voices muffled through the door for the last thirty minutes, so I know he’s still here. I close my eyes and blow out a slow breath. Maybe if he sees how determined I am, he’ll have second thoughts on his ruling. I push the door open and open my eyes. The judge is standing behind his desk, my lawyer standing beside him, and Eric and his lawyer standing on the other side of the desk. Eric’s lawyer is handing Judge Calhoun and my lawyer a big stack of cash. I blink a couple times. Surely this isn’t real.
“You paid him off?” I whisper, looking at the group dumbfounded. That’s why my lawyer didn’t fight for me. That’s why the judge was so uncaring of a daughter needing her mother. He was being paid by Eric and his lawyer. Anger fills my veins.
The judge sighs and snatches the cash from the lawyer.
“Sit, Ms. Cole,” the judge demands.
“No!” I respond firmly.
“Sitting would be in your best interest,” he insists, counting his money. My nostrils flare as I inhale a breath of rage. “What is it you want? Money? Your daughter on the weekends? What? What will it take for you not to have seen this?” The judge sets the stack of cash on the desk and pinches the bridge of his nose.
My face cracks as my lips tremble with humor before I laugh. I laugh so hard, the group of dishonest bastards look at me as if I’ve gone crazy. Maybe I have.
“Oh, God,” I mutter, my laughter gone and my voice cracking with emotion. I run my hand through my hair and put the other on my hip. How can this be? I just walked in on the father of my child paying off my lawyer and the judge handling our custody battle. How many times has this judge and team of lawyers been paid off? How many mothers have lost their kids? How many people lost unfair cases?
My eyes snap to theirs, my blood running ice-cold to the point goosebumps race up my arms.
“You know what? No.” My voice is deadly serious.
“No?” The judge tilts his head to the side, confused.
“No. I am taking this higher. I will get my daughter the right way, and you guys will burn for this. I’ll bury all of you to your fucking necks.” I point at every one of them as I back my way out of the door. “This isn’t over, Eric,” I promise then hightail it out of there.
Two Days Later
I pay for my pack of gum and leave the gas station, heading back to my car. I had reported the judge and the lawyers, and was waiting on a return call to reclaim my case with someone from the courthouse. They said they’d call me back with the next step, but the sound of their voice made me unsure. Maybe I should go back and demand to talk to someone else. The hairs on my neck suddenly stand as I pop a piece of gum into my mouth. My gaze slowly trails up the street, trying to find what has my body in a sense of alarm, when a green raggedy truck creeps beside the gas station. Men stand in the back, holding large guns. My breath shallows, and people begin screaming.
Pop Pop Pop sounds in the night air. I’m frozen with fear.
“Get down!” a man yells, knocking me to the ground. I look up from under the strange guy who is laying over me and see the green truck come to a stop.
“Did you get her?” one of the guys in the cab of the truck questions.
Sirens sound from afar, and fire spreads from one of the gas pumps.
“It doesn’t matter. We got company. We’ll go to her trailer and wait for her there!” Hearing those words, I knew right then they were sent from the judge and lawyers, maybe even Eric. My heart goes cold, and my hope of having my daughter back evaporates into ash, along with the piece of my heart that just died. I can’t go home. I can’t go to the police. I’m fucked. I’m alone. All because I wanted the attention of Eric fucking McCormick. Now I have it, and it’s the last fucking thing I want.
***
The car is hot and acting as a barrier against the breeze. Well, what breeze there is in the middle of summer in LA. Pulling my hair away from my sweaty face, I fan myself with my hand. I managed to get one guy to stop yesterday, so hopefully I can get another person to stop today. I have been living out of my car for two days now. I haven’t contacted my brother, because I don’t want whoever is trying to kill me to link us and put Tyler in danger. If they haven’t already. Every day, I stop on the side of the road miles away from my old stomping ground and act as if my car is broken down. I’ve been conning men, women, anyone who stops. It’s not something I’m proud of, but what choice do I have? I’m running and I’m desperate. I step out of the car, the back of my legs streaming with a steady sweat from the heat. Popping the hood of the car, I lean against the hot metal that makes up the front bumper. My eyes prick with tears that this is what it’s come to. I lean my head back and close my eyes against the hot summer sun.
“God, give me a sign that you’re up there and can see the pain I’m in,” I whisper to myself. My family was never big on religion, but when you get desperate, when you reach the point nobody on Earth is going to help you, you pray that there is a higher power, something that can pull you from the dark pit you’re in. You hope with all your might that things will get better; otherwise, why the hell are we even here?
A loud rumble speeds down the off ramp. I jump where I stand when I notice a motorcycle suddenly stop next to my car.
“Looks like you’re having some car trouble.” The man smirks, swinging his leg over his black bike. My mouth goes as dry from the heat wafting from the pavement. I can’t reply because I’m dumbstruck. He is sexy. Fucking deliciously rugged and good enough to eat, in fact. He has short hair that’s brown but with a tone of copper streaking through it when the sun shines on it just right. He has tattoos across his arms and a piercing in his lip that makes my panties instantly wet. He’s wearing a leather vest and torn blue jeans. He looks so strong, and oozes bad guy. Staring at him, my body comes alive with a warmth I haven’t felt since that night I got drunk with Eric. Only this warmth is much more intense.
“You okay?” he asks, the words falling from his mouth roughly. His shoulders are built, making his arms hang from his sides with a distance, his strides long and masculine. He looks massive, and delicious. I blink and open my lips to speak.
“Um, yeah. Yeah, I’m n-not sure what’s wrong w-with it,” I stutter on my words, trying to wake myself from eye-fucking him and wave my hand toward the car. It’s a beat-up station wagon that has seen better days. With the hood up and the constant smoke rolling out from under it, it’s easy to pull off that my car has broken down.
He bends over the car, eyeing the engine, and I take the opportunity to check him out. My eyes sweep down his muscled back; his tattooed biceps are built and stretching the sleeves on the white shirt he’s wearing under his leather vest. His ass looks fit and har
d. The way it appears in those jeans should be illegal.
He fiddles with caps and oil sticks under the hood, trying to figure out the problem, and I keep checking his hard body out, imagining what it would be like having it over me. Yeah, ‘cause the last time that happened it went so well. I close my eyes and shake my head at myself, but I can’t help but open them again and look back at his body. When my gaze catches his wallet, I’m reminded what I’m really after. Money. Food. Gas. I walk around him and trail my hand along his back seductively. His head slowly turns, eyeing my hand that caresses his shoulder. That’s the key, getting him to focus on this hand instead of where I’m about to put my other hand.
“Yeah, I’m not sure what’s wrong with it,” I lie, trying to distract him. He looks at me from the corner of his eyes and smirks before sliding his tongue along his bottom lip. The way his tongue flicks his lip ring, I almost forget to swipe his wallet. Almost. I slide my finger along the top of the billfold and gently pull it loose at the same time I slip my hand off his back.
I shove the wallet down my shorts quickly as he continues to look at the engine. “I’ll try and start it again,” I offer. Side-stepping him, I crawl behind the wheel and start it with ease.
“Yup. I think it just got too hot or something.” I shrug. He gives me a confused look and runs his hands through his hair.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he replies softly.
“See you around.” I give a little wave and watch him climb on his bike. He looks over his shoulder and pins me with a stare I’ll never forget. A stare that says a thousand things. Like he doesn’t want to go, that he wants to say something else. I don’t want him to leave either, but I am in no position to be with anyone, no matter how fucking hot he is. I tear my eyes from his first and look at the seat beside me.
After he leaves, I open his wallet, reading his name, address, weight. All of it.
“Phillip DeLuca.” I taste his name running off my lips as I trace my finger over his picture. He’s so handsome. He’s the kind of guy most people would be afraid of, but not me. I want to get to know him. Lost in a daydream, my car door is yanked open.
“Where the fuck is it, bitch?”
“What?” I shriek as I’m pulled out of the car and slammed forward onto the hot hood. “I don’t have anything!” I scream, trying to pull free. He shoves me back down on the hood. His hand tangled in my hair.
“Don’t think about moving,” he spits, his tone harsh. I roll my eyes and continue leaning over the hood. My heart slams against my chest in pure panic, and my hands shake. He pulls away and leans in to the car. Within seconds, he finds his wallet. Shit.
He peers at me with a fierce energy in his eyes. The intensity has me pulling off the hood, scared out of my mind.
“You have some balls,” he mutters, shoving his wallet back in his pocket. His tone is soft and tender suddenly. I turn my head and eye him angrily.
“Fuck you.” I cross my arms and lean my hip against the car. My choice of words more confident than I’m feeling.
He steps up to me and grabs my hips hard with both hands. My skin burns, and my mouth parts with desire. His brown eyes find mine, and his hands yank my body closer to his. I feel like all the air is sucked from my lungs as I search his dark eyes. Placing my hands on his solid chest to steady myself, my palms buzz with excitement.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He looks me up and down and leans in close. “You’d like it if I pushed you over the hood of this car and fucked you ‘til your legs gave out.” His words feather against my lips, he’s so close. I hold my breath, willing my body to pull away, but I don’t move. Just when I think he’s going to kiss me, he grabs my hand and pulls it upward. I furrow my brows and watch as he pulls a pen from his back pocket, pulling the cap off with his teeth. He writes his number and the word ‘Lip’ on my hand.
“Call me. Don’t make me come find you, Cherry.”
“Cherry?” I ask out loud.
“Your swimsuit,” he yells over his shoulder before starting his bike. I look down at my white shirt noticing my cherry bikini peeking out from the bust line. A smile creeps across my face. I know I shouldn’t like him, but I kind of do. Driving past me, he winks and I swear I sigh like a damn fool.
CHAPTER TWO
CHERRY
Sitting in the car, I watch the moon rise high in the sky. It’s still hot out, and my legs stick to the seat of the car. I can’t sleep, and all I can think about is Piper. I know it’s stupid, but I want to go get her from Eric. I hate for her to think that I’ve given up on her, that I didn’t fight harder for her. Looking at the moon, I sigh heavily.
I remember as a little girl how bad I wanted to know if my mom ever wanted me. I wonder if Piper will feel like that. The thought saddens me.
“I can’t give up. Not yet,” I mumble, sitting up in the seat of the car. Starting the engine, I pull onto the highway. I’m going to get my daughter back, damn it. I want my daughter, and I’ll get her one way or another.
I drive and drive until I make my way to the trailer park. The sun is nearly rising by the time I finally reach the shitty area. My hands begin to build a nervous sweat, and my stomach flutters with unease to the point I may puke as I get closer. I can’t believe what I’m doing. I’m stupid. I’m being reckless.
I blow out an unsteady breath and pull into the circle drive, but I still don’t turn around. I’m determined to continue my journey, even if it kills me.
“You can do this. You can do this,” I whisper to myself. I don’t even know what this is. All I know is I want my daughter back. I guess if I have to put a label on it, I’m kidnapping my daughter. Opening the car door, it creaks loudly and I wince. I slowly close it, hoping it doesn’t make as much noise, but it does. Thankfully, nobody comes out to investigate the noise.
Looking the house over, I notice only two lights on. One on the second story and another in the front of the house. My best bet would be to enter from the back. I tiptoe around the house and chills run up my back, so I rub up and down my arms trying to smooth them away. Climbing the steps, I test the door to find it’s unlocked. I shake my head; Eric is so fucking stupid to leave his house unlocked in this neighborhood.
Slowly, I push the door open and hear a TV playing in the front room. The house is dark, and nobody seems to be moving around, so I quietly proceed into what looks like a kitchen. Crying sounds from upstairs, and my eyes prick with tears. Piper. I step to where the TV is playing and find Eric passed out in a chair, his hands down his pants. This is it, my time to take Piper. I turn quickly and make my way up the stairs to the crying. I pass pictures of little Eric and his family, and find the one bedroom that is lit up. There, in a small white crib, is Piper. She has little red curls and is bundled in a white blanket. I sob and step closer, just wanting to feel her small little body in my arms.
“I wouldn’t.” I freeze, panicking. I turn slowly, finding an older lady with silver curls and a long, off-white pajama gown. “Lindsay, right?” I don’t answer, frozen scared. “I get it. I knew you would show up. I’d expect it from any mother who cares about her child.” She shuffles past me, and I frown in confusion. Is she just going to give me Piper?
I follow her into the room as she scoops up my little girl.
“I’m Eric’s grandma, and I’m taking care of Piper. No need to worry.” She pats Piper to soothe her.
“It’s not fair,” I mutter. I should be taking care of Piper. I want to take care of her, yet Eric just passes her off to anyone who will do his dirty work. Anyone but me that is.
Eric’s grandma scoffs at my remark. “Get real, honey; nothing in life is fair.” I scowl. “I’ve raised my children, yet here I am raising yours.”
I close my eyes and shake my head, not wanting to hear that.
“You need to leave.” Her voice cuts me, the words searing through my heart. I should have known it wouldn’t have been as easy as sneaking into Eric’s house and taking Piper.
“No, I
am not leaving without my daughter.” I lift my chin in confidence. The lady narrows her wrinkled eyes.
“I don’t think you understand. Eric wants you dead. That judge wants you dead. You are a dead woman as long as you are around this little girl. How much are you going to help her if you’re dead?”
“I can’t just leave her with him,” I cry, tears filling my eyes.
She looks at Piper then to me. “You’re not; you’re leaving her with me. I have another six or seven good years in me before Eric checks me into a nursing home. That’s when she’ll really need a mother, and that is when you need to come back.” She looks up at me. “When Eric thinks you’re gone, when you can put your emotions to the side and really fight for what you want in life.”
“No. I can’t leave her,” I sob. I step up to her and rub my finger along Piper’s cheek. It’s so soft and silky.
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” Her hand sweeps beside her, grabbing a rifle. My body freezes, and my eyes widen.
“If I let anything happen to Piper, Eric has threatened to end my life, honey. So as much as I want you to be reunited with your daughter, it ain’t happening,” she sneers.
I look at the rifle then her. “I ain’t leaving without her,” I reaffirm, tears in my eyes.
“ERIC!” she screams. My eyes widen, and my heart jump starts in fear. “You better run,” she whispers, her tone eerie. I look at Piper one last time, and then her.
“Go, before he finds you and knows you’re alive,” she mutters. I purse my lips, and as much as I don’t want to, I pull away from Piper. I run down the stairs and out of the house as fast as I can, passing a sleeping Eric on the way, nearly tripping on my feet as I head toward my car. I jump in and look at Eric’s house one last time. I don’t want to leave, but if I stay it could get me killed.
“I’ll be back, baby girl.” I sob, starting the car. “I’ll be back one day,” I mutter, tears falling down my cheeks. I pull out onto the road and gun it, driving as fast as I can back to where I belong. Nowhere, and out of Piper’s life.
