by River Savage
“I’m gonna go find out what the fuck they are doing here. You coming?” He motions me forward.
“What! Are you mad? You want me to meet your mom, now?” I know things have been moving pretty fast the last few weeks with Hetch, but meeting the parents wasn’t on my radar.
“If my mom is here, then she ain’t leaving. Seeing as she walked in on me out here with a woman, she ain’t gonna want to leave until she meets you.” He takes my hand and pulls me into his chest, offering me a chaste kiss. I can smell my arousal on his face and I die a little more.
“Go wash your face off.” I push him back and point to the kitchen. He looks confused for a minute before understanding filters through. Returning to the kitchen, he turns the faucet on and dips his face under the running water. After he dries his mouth with the front of his shirt, he walks back over to me and wraps an arm around me.
“Come on then, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can finish what we started.”
“Seriously, how can you be thinking about sex at a time like this?” I scold him as he opens the front door.
“How can I not? It was fucking hot, sweetheart,” he whispers low in my ear as my eyes connect with a woman who looks older than I originally thought and much more polished than I wished. I step out from Hetch’s arm, the moment too real for me to handle, and distance myself from him. Hetch doesn’t seem to mind. Instead of tucking me back into his arms, he folds them over his chest and directs his stare down at his much shorter mother.
“Mom. Kota,” he simply says, before his sister blurts, “I told her to knock.”
I think I’m going to be sick.
Twenty-Three
Hetch
“I told her to knock,” Kota blurts, throwing Mom under the bus. I don't bother to comment. Keeping my stare on my mom, I force her to address me first.
“I’m sorry, Liam. I wasn't expecting you to have company.” Her words are hesitant, unlike her vibrant self, but she doesn’t cower away from my stare.
“We were on our way to lunch, and I saw your truck out front. We thought you were working on the house.” She steps up into my space and I drop my brashness long enough to lean down and give her quick hug.
“Knock next time,” I tell her as she steps back and gives me a flustered nod. She then turns her attention to Liberty.
“Hi, I’m Brianna. Liam’s mom. I'm sure you feel every bit embarrassed right now, but don’t, he is my son after all.” She tries to put Liberty at ease, but I'm not sure it works.
“Mom. Just stop.” Kota puts a hand on Mom's arm, ready to pull her away at a moment’s notice.
“No, it's okay.” Liberty finally speaks up. “I'm so embarrassed to meet you like this.”
“You’re telling me. But hey, at least we didn't walk through the back door.” She attempts a joke. Kota snorts, while I hold in my laugh. Liberty must not get it at first until the ball drops.
“Oh, God!” It finally clicks. Her embarrassment travels over her skin in a perfect shade of red. “Well yes, I guess there’s that. I'm Liberty, by the way, and it’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hetcherson?” She doesn’t sound so sure, but Mom doesn’t seem affected by it.
“Please call me Briana. And this is my daughter, Dakota.”
“Yes, we’ve met.” Kota offers Liberty a small wave.
“You've met?” Mom looks taken back, before turning her questioning eyes on my sister.
“Only briefly a couple weeks back.” Kota smirks at Liberty, obviously replaying the scene over in her head.
“Yeah, it was almost as awkward as this meeting.” Liberty chuckles, relaxing a little.
“What? Are you kidding me? It was awesome. That sassy mouth of yours laying into Liam. Girl, you and I are going to be great friends.” Kota winks, only confusing Mom more.
“What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” both Liberty and I answer right away, making Kota laugh harder.
I know this is quite sudden. Meeting my family isn’t something we have discussed, but now it’s happening, I’m enjoying seeing her squirm a little.
“Okay.” Mom looks between us like we’ve lost it before dropping it. “Have you guys had lunch? You should join us.” It’s not worded as a question because she knows I would say no. Instead, it’s a careful encouragement. One I won’t agree to if Liberty isn’t okay with it.
“Ahh, no. We haven’t,” I answer, searching out Liberty for her reaction.
Meeting my family is one thing, subjecting her to lunch with them unprepared is another.
“Well, you should come. We’re heading to Naples,” Kota persuades this time.
“You hungry?” I ask Liberty, trying to get a read on her.
“Yeah, I could eat.” She doesn’t seem stressed or put out by the change of plans. So I agree, telling Mom and Kota we will meet them there.
“You should ride with us, Liberty.” Kota smirks at my scowl. She’s enjoying this way too much.
“We will meet you there.” My tone doesn’t leave room to argue.
“Oh, Liam. This is way too much fun.” Kota laughs, following Mom back to the car. Only once they’ve left, and I’ve locked the house up do I ask Liberty if she’s really okay with this.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want.” I pull her against my chest and cup her face with my hands.
“Are you kidding me? Why wouldn’t I want to have lunch with your mom right after she saw you eating me out?” she sasses.
“I’ll call her, tell her we aren’t coming.” I step back and reach for my cell.
“No, seriously, don’t. It’s okay. I want to go. They seem nice.”
“Nice? Woman, tell me what you really think in another couple of hours.” I grin, knowing full well how my mom and sister can get.
My mom will have her telling her life story in less than half an hour, and Kota will have made plans by the end of lunch, excited she made a new friend.
My family is crazy.
But so is Liberty.
So I know even before they do, they will be smitten by the end of lunch.
Oddly enough, this doesn’t frighten me.
“So tell us. What do you do, Liberty?” Mom asks Liberty twenty minutes later when we’re settled at our table in the small Italian pizzeria we’ve been coming to since we were kids.
Liberty’s eyes come to mine first before answering. I know she remembers my reaction a couple of weeks back, and now she’s searching for my approval. I give a quick nod, letting her know it’s all good.
I’m the only sorry bastard who’s still messed up by my father’s death.
“I’m a youth worker,” she answers, and I find myself anticipating it. Mom's eyes take on a memory, and she gets lost in it.
“Oh, wow, so you’re pretty, funny, and amazing. Where do you work?” Kota takes over the questions when she notices Mom’s small lapse into the past.
“Over at Boys Haven.” Liberty notes my mom's reaction but doesn't ask about it.
“That's great. Do you work full time?” Kota continues the conversation, not drawing attention to Mom. Not sure what else to do, I reach out and grab Mom’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. She comes back at my touch, turning her head to look at me. It’s a silent question. One I’m not sure I understand. Before I can read into it any further, my cell rings.
“Sorry, need to get this. I’m on call,” I tell the ladies as I stand and hit accept.
“Yeah?” I bark into the phone once I am far enough away to hear clearly.
“We have a hostage situation on the William Jones off-ramp.” The voice on the other end is Sterling. He gives me the rundown, letting me know kids are involved, and the full team is needed on this one.
“I’m fifteen minutes out. I’ll meet you on scene.” I hang up the call and stalk my way back over to the table.
“I’m sorry, Mom. We gotta run.” I lean down, drop a kiss to her forehead and move on to my sister.
“Oh, do you have to? We just
ordered,” my mom asks, not understanding the situation.
“SWAT call out. You know how it is.”
“Well, Liberty can stay. I’ll take her back after lunch,” Kota offers. My head turns to Liberty, trying to get a read on her.
“You wanna stay?” It’s not something I would normally impose, but I’m time sensitive, and I need to get on the road.
“Yeah, you go. I’ll stay.” Liberty offers an uncomfortable smile.
“Okay, I’ll see you later.” I lean down and press my lips to hers, offering a quick, chaste kiss before turning and heading out to my truck.
It’s only when I’m speeding along the freeway back into the city, I catalog the smile. It’s a smile that says ‘whatever is coming out of my mouth right now is all a lie. Do not do what I am suggesting you do.’
I half chuckle, half swallow my unease. Jesus, I can just picture how annoyed she is going to be later. Knowing I don’t have time to worry about Liberty, and whether my mom and sister are taking it easy on her, I push it to the back of my mind and spend the rest of the drive focusing on the task at hand.
SWAT has been called in. A hostage situation involving kids.
Me and my boys needed to be prepared.
These call-ins were the ones that could really mess you the fuck up.
“What are we looking at?” I ask the lieutenant and the on-scene commander as I step into the tactical operations vehicle ten minutes later. The familiar sounds of Velcro grates in the air as some of Team One and Team Two begin to suit up in their tactical gear.
“Norman James, father of three, picked his kids up from Trebook Elementary,” the on-scene commander, Parker, commences filling me in. “Custody arrangement only gives him access every other weekend. Mom called it in after getting a text from him saying he was taking them and not coming back.” He points to one of the monitors, showing a picture of Norman James. White male in his early forties. Though he's fighting a slightly receding hairline, I would have placed him in his early thirties.
“Amber alert went out as well as a bolo on his car.” Parker continues to give me all the information we have to work with. “Patrol officer picked up his tail over on Kensington. When he failed to stop, he led them on a chase through town, ending when he pulled up to a stop on the off-ramp, and one of his kids jumped out, making a run for it.” My eyes move back to the monitors' live feeds from the overhead chopper. The closest police cruiser fills two of the six screens we have available.
“The kid give us anything?”
“No, too shaken up to talk.”
“Weapons?”
“Patrol officer thinks he saw a handgun. Kid’s not saying so can’t be sure.”
“Have we established any communication?”
“We tried his mobile, but he’s not picking up.”
I take everything in. The initial rush of the moment settles within me as I pull up a chair in front of the monitors.
“You want lead negotiator on this, Sargent?” my lieutenant asks, and I nod, letting him know I’m the right man for the job. He takes my nod, then steps back, allowing me to take control of the situation.
“Walker, I want better eyes in the car and keep trying him on his cell ‘til he picks up.”
“On it, boss.” Walker starts clicking away on his keyboard, getting settled in.
“Okay, boys, our main concern is those two kids. We need to figure out if he’s acting out in anger, or suffering a mental break. Fox, what are our tact options here?”
“He’s out there, open and exposed.” He steps forward and points at the monitor. “I think our only play here is to have a sniper’s perch set up over here on the adjacent side ramp.” I nod, agreeing with the play. I turn to face my lead marksman.
“Tate, you’re lead sniper.” Tate nods, adjusts his rifle firmly in his grip, and then exits the command vehicle ready to do his job.
“Perry, you’re second,” I order one of Kaighn’s men out to follow Tate. From what I know about the kid, he’s just as good as Tate, and if I can get two sets of eyes up there, the better off we will be.
“What’s your play on this?” I ask Kaighn, Team Two’s leader, opening up the lines of communication. This isn’t just any rescue. It’s a sensitive situation. A father clearly on the edge, three innocent children caught in the crossfire.
“Only way I see this happening, we box him in. Use the BearCat to get up close.” A BearCat is a Ballistic Engineered Armored Response Counter Attack Truck. Simply put, an armored personnel carrier.
I think over Kaighn’s play, working it out in my head.
It may work. It’s probably our only shot.
“Okay, boys, that’s our play. Team One, you’ll take the north end of the ramp. Team Two, you’re south. Let’s get to it. You know what needs to be done.” The two teams exit the command unit, setting up the play with no other questions.
“Is the ex-wife close?” I ask Kaighn, hoping she may be able to help talk her ex-husband down.
“She’s en route.”
I nod, making a note. “Let’s have some of the patrols move back, so the boys can—”
“Got a connection.” Walker cuts me off, switching my coms over to the call.
“Mr. James, this is Sergeant Hetcherson of the Trebook PD tactical unit—”
“You all need to stay back. You’re getting too close.” He cuts right to the chase, giving me the first glimpse into his frame of mind.
“We’re working on it right now, Mr. James. In the meantime, you want to tell me what’s going on here today?”
“I’m not talking to anyone till you back the fuck up. You’re scaring Lucy,” he repeats his order, and I take note of his daughter’s name.
“How is Lucy?” My eyes find Walker, and I circle Lucy’s name then write ‘brother’s name' with a question mark next to it.
“She’s fine.”
Walker has the kid’s name up in less than ten seconds.
“And Conrad? He doing okay too?”
“They’re fine. But we would be better if you all pissed off.”
“You know we can’t do that, Norman.” I test his name on my tongue. “It’s okay to call you Norman?” I ask, hoping to establish some kind of rapport with him.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, good. Now you want to tell me what’s happened today that’s brought us to this point?” I open the conversation up to him, hoping he will inadvertently expose himself.
“The bitch. It’s all her fault. She doesn't care about them. She only cares about hurting me.”
“Who are we talking about Norman?” I already know he’s talking about his ex-wife, but I need to keep him talking while the two teams get into position.
“My bitch of an ex-wife.”
“Okay, wanna tell me about it?”
“No, I have nothing to say. You’ll only use it against me.”
“I’m not going to use anything against you, Norman. I want to help. Help you get out of this situation. Help you get what you need.”
“Bullshit. You don’t want to help me. You’re like the others. You’ll only listen to her side.”
“It's not true, Norman. I’m here talking to you. How about you tell me your side?”
“In position, boss.” Tate’s voice comes through my earpiece, letting me know he’s set up and has eyes on Norman.
“I want my kids. She's trying to take them from me.”
“How is she doing that, Norman?”
“She lied. Told the court some bullshit stories. Now I only get to see them twice a month! Do you know what that does to a man? They’re my life, and that bitch takes them from me.” I can hear his anger through the phone, but that’s not what worries me; it’s his desperation.
“It’s got to be hard, Norman. I get it. But is this the right way to go about it? The kids don’t need to see this, Norman.”
“They have to see what their bitch mother has done to me. What she has done to us.”
“Team One in
position,” Sterling checks in.
“Look, I know you're hurting now. I understand it, but why don't you let the kids out of the car and we can talk about this some more.”
“And let them go back to her? No fucking way. If I can't have them, neither will she.” It's the threat I didn't want to hear, but I knew it was coming.
“You don't mean that, Norman. Nothing has been done today you can’t come back from,” I tell him, still waiting on Team Two to get in position. Until we have both teams in position, we can’t move. “We can figure this out—” My words get cut off when the back door of his car opens, and Conrad slips out, making a run for it. Lucy tries to escape next but is yanked back, and the door is slammed firmly shut.
“Hold your fire!” I shout, ordering the surrounding officers not to discharge their weapons.
Sterling steps out from behind the BearCat, shield out in front of him, he runs forward and scoops the kid up in one fast movement, turns and runs back, firmly tucking him under his arm. He makes it out of range safely, handing him over to a waiting officer.
“Norman, you still there, buddy?” I bring Norman’s attention back to the moment. “Is everything okay in the car?”
“I need you to get my wife down here, NOW!” he answers, Lucy’s crying growing more frantic.
“We’re still waiting for her to get down here. In the meantime, how about you let Lucy go too?”
“Not until she gets here.”
“In place.” Team Two finally comes online, letting me know everyone is ready. I mute my call with Norman to speak to my team.
“Okay, boys, we go in slow. Team Two, you need to inch in close. Team One, not until Team Two comes up over the crest of the overpass do I want you to move.”
“Copy that.”
“Roger,” I get back in response, and then I flick the line back over to Norman.
“How's Lucy doing there, Norman?” I ask, hoping to bring his attention away from the team closing in on him.
“What’s going on? Why are they moving?” The play doesn’t work. Norman catches the movement as Team Two comes into view. “You need to stay back.” The line falls silent, cutting off our communication.
