by Zoey Parker
“Cut the shit, Larry,” Kira said in a stern, firm tone of voice. “What’s going on? Why is there a cop car here?”
“Stop cussing in front of my son,” Larry said. He reached forward and grabbed hold of Lucian, tearing him out of Kira’s arms. Kira was tempted to reach out and grab her son back, but she could tell from Lucian’s face that he was already scared. She didn’t want to make things even worse than they already were. “I’ve come here today to take care of Lucian. That’s what it’s all about, right?”
“What are you talking about?” Kira asked. She reached down to grab Dylan’s hand, letting the other little boy squeeze her as hard as he could. She felt like she could taste her own blood, her heart pounding so hard that she felt like she was about to pass out.
“The bruises, Kira,” Larry said, shaking his head at her. He clutched Lucian close to his chest like he was trying to shield his son. “I know what you’ve been doing.”
“What the fuck are you saying?” Kira asked. She reached forward for Lucian, but Larry stepped back so that Kira couldn’t reach her son. “You were the one that was watching Lucian when the bruises happened, Larry. What exactly are you trying to pull?”
Larry shook his head at her, clicking his tongue from behind his teeth and backing away a little more, heading towards the police vehicle. “I thought you were better than this, you know.”
“Larry, stop—what—just hold on a second!” Kira yelled out as she chased after her ex-husband, reaching out to grab his shoulder to keep him from moving any further across the lawn. “What are you doing? Just stop. Talk to me.”
Larry paused. He turned to look at Kira, his eyes full of venom. “You got a lot of fucking nerve trying to tell me what to do right now, Kira.”
“What’s going on?” Kira asked. She clutched harder onto Dylan’s hand just to give herself strength as Larry scoffed at her.
“The fucking bruises, Kira! You’ve been hurting our son. It stops now,” Larry said. He then set off into motion again, carrying Lucian along towards the cop car.
“Wait. Wait, stop. What are you saying? What the fuck is going on? Larry, please…please just stop!” Kira called out, breaking into a run to chase after Larry, pushing her muscles as hard as they could go.
But it still wasn’t enough. Larry got to the cop car first and dropped Lucian carelessly on the ground as he pulled at the passenger side door. “Lucian! Lucian, baby!” Kira cried out as she pushed her body farther, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she ran after Larry.
“Mommy! Mommy, what’s happening? Mommy! I don’t want to go! I don’t want to!” Lucian cried out, sobbing. Larry picked him up again and grunted wordlessly as he forced him into the car.
“Lucian! Lucian! Larry, wait! Larry!” Kira cried out as she finally reached the cop car, banging on the closed door, yelling Larry’s name to try to get him to stop. But it was no use. The cop car backed away, almost running over her feet as it skidded back down the driveway, then turned around and pulled out onto the road. “Wait! Please! Lucian! Larry! No!”
The cop car turned on its sirens, howling as it shot down the road. After a few seconds, they disappeared beyond the horizon. “No!” Kira screamed out. She collapsed to her knees, stuttering out sobs as she listened to the fading sound of the police car’s sirens screaming out into the otherwise silent night.
Her baby was gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Brent
Brent was in the middle of preparing dinner, frying up some asparagus, when he heard the piercing sound of sirens cut through the air, incredibly close to his house. “What the fuck?” he asked out loud. His anxiety rose in his throat. He turned off the stove and headed for the front door. He was halfway out the door when the sound of the sirens faded away, muffled by the quickly expanding distance between the car and Brent’s house.
He scanned the horizon, searching for some clue about what had happened. Then his eyes landed on a dark spot that contrasting sharply with the otherwise perfect green of his front lawn. “Kira!” a small voice called out. “Kira, what’s wrong? I’m scared. Where’s Lucian?”
It was Dylan’s voice, Brent realized, swallowing hard to clear the lump in his throat. He forced himself into motion, slowly walking down the porch and crossing the lawn to get to the bundle of limbs that had apparently collapsed onto his lawn moments before. It’s Kira, he realized as he got closer, her hair becoming more distinct against the contrasting colors around her. What’s going on?
The next moment, Dylan ran up to him and tugged at the bottom of his shirt to make sure that he got his attention. “Brent! Brent, what’s going on?” his son asked, looking up at him with a panicked expression on his face.
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Brent said with a sigh. He leaned down to look Dylan in his eyes. “What did you see, buddy? What happened?”
Dylan’s eyes darted from Brent to Kira and back again, his young face contorted with worry as he stared up at his father. “There was a policeman. I think he was a policeman, anyway. He had one of those blue shining cars. But he took Lucian! And now Kira won’t answer me when I say stuff to her.”
“Okay,” Brent said, blowing out his breath in frustration. “Okay, I’ll take care of it.” He forced himself to pat the top of Dylan’s head, as soothingly as he could manage, before approaching Kira. He dropped to his knees so he could whisper in her ear. “Hey, Kira. I’m here. I’m here with you.”
“Go away,” Kira moaned out, keeping her eyes hidden behind her long hair.
“Why?” Brent said. “What’s going on, Kira? Talk to me.”
Kira sniffled loudly and shook her head. “He took Lucian. It’s over.”
“Who did? Your ex?” Brent asked.
Kira nodded but didn’t say anything out loud.
Brent was unsure what to do for a few moments. He watched as Kira’s shoulders shook, her body trembling as silent sobs overtook her. He reached out to place a hand on her back, but Kira’s spine stiffened underneath his touch, so he pulled away the next second, keeping a safe distance between their bodies.
“Okay,” Brent finally said. He blew out his breath and reached out his hand towards Dylan, who refused to grab it, shaking his head and backing away from his father in response to the gesture. Brent felt a little twinge of pain in his chest at that, the sting of rejection from his son. I shouldn’t care, he told himself as he adjusted his feet so that he was squatting more comfortably on the ground. He’s not my son. Not really.
He cleared his throat a few more times while trying to summon up the ability to solve this fucking disaster of a situation. “We’ll get Lucian back,” he finally said, keeping his tone as confident and self-assured as he possibly could. He wanted to be strong for Kira. He wanted to show her that there was nothing to be afraid of, even if the whole world was stacked against her, ready to smack her down.
Kira shook her head slowly and curled forward, burying her face deeper. “No. We won’t.”
“What? Why are you saying that?” Brent asked.
“Because he’s a cop!” Kira cried out, finally turning her head to stare at Brent through her fingers. Brent could see that her face was splotchy with tears, her chest rising and falling ridiculously quickly as she panted for breath. “He’s a fucking cop. He has friends in high places, and he can do whatever he wants. I should’ve known better than to accuse him of anything.” Her words trailed off into whimpers as she re-buried her face, sniffling into her hands.
Brent swallowed around the lump in his throat again, willing himself to be brave. I have to do this, he thought. He balled his hands into fists by his sides. I have to be strong. For Kira. I have to tell her everything. Even if she doesn’t understand what I do, I can still use the resources of the MC to help her. I have to tell her. Now.
“Kira, I—” Before Brent could get any more words out of his mouth, the sound of sirens returned, screaming over their heads. Kira to lifted her face out of her hands and looked around in every direction to fi
nd the source of the noise.
The next second, Brent saw it. A pack of police cars, their sirens screaming wildly as they shot down the street toward Brent’s house. There was no time to get away, even on the bike. They were stuck, easy prey sitting on the lawn, ready for law enforcement to come do whatever it was they wanted to do.
Kira stood first, slowly getting to her feet and walking to the edge of the lawn. As the police cars slid to a stop, she walked forward holding her arms out toward them. Cops spilled out of the vehicles and swarmed around Kira.
“Ms. Foster?” the eldest cop on the scene said to Kira, brandishing a pair of handcuffs. Brent silently screamed at Kira to run, to make a break for it, to do anything other than stand there and wait for it.
But instead Kira nodded and said, “Yes? That’s me. What is it?”
“You are under arrest for reckless endangerment,” the cop said. He flipped Kira around and locked the handcuffs around her wrists. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you….”
“Kira!” Brent called out, following along as the cops forced Kira into movement, pushing her towards the cars at the edge of the street. “Kira, wait! Don’t say anything!”
“I’m sorry, Brent!” Kira called back. “I’m so sorry!”
“You didn’t do anything!” Brent screamed back. “Please, just wait, don’t say anything, I can help you!”
“I’m beyond helping,” Kira called back right before her head was shoved down by the senior officer on the scene. He pushed her into the backseat of the vehicle before moving around to the front, hopping in seconds before the car set back into motion, the sirens blaring again as the car disappeared down the street.
“Fuck. Fuck, shit, fuck,” Brent said to himself, kicking the nearest rock on the ground just to release some of the frustration in his body. “Fuck!”
Brent sagged down onto the ground, his head pressing down onto the lawn beneath him as he listened to the ragged sound of his own breathing, praying silently to any god that might have been listening. Please, please, let this be a nightmare. Let this be a bad dream. Please, don’t let this be real. Please.
A few moments later, Dylan tapped him on his back. “Brent,” he said. “Brent?”
“What is it?” Brent snapped, too angry and lost to be careful of his tone, even when talking to his four-year-old son, who stared up at him with wide, worried eyes.
“What’s going to happen to Kira?” Dylan asked in a small, insecure voice. “And Lucian? Where is Lucian?”
Brent sighed. His limbs collapsed more against the grass under his knees. He felt completely empty, like all of his hope had been cut out of him with a huge, spiky knife. His heart beat slowly in his chest, all urgency sapped away like he’d already lost the biggest battle of his life up to this point.
“They’re in trouble right now,” Brent finally said, turning to look at his son. He struggled to keep his face even and blank, so as not to show how panicked and upset he really felt. “We have to help them, okay?”
Dylan chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth between each of Brent’s for several moments before he finally nodded and said, “Okay. We will fight for them. That’s what families do, right?”
Brent was at a loss for words. His blood rushed almost painfully within his veins as he slowly lifted himself back on his feet. Dylan’s words rolled around in his head like a giant boulder, crushing every other thought down into the ground under its heavy weight.
That’s what families do, right? Brent’s inner voice repeated inside his mind. His stomach turned over painfully as he forced himself to head back inside the house.
“Brent?” Dylan said from behind him, following along as he headed back towards the house.
“Yes,” Brent finally forced out. His tongue felt heavy and useless in his mouth even when he was using it to speak. “That’s what families do. They’re our family now, Dylan. We have to take care of them. No matter what.”
He realized after saying the words out loud that he was saying them for himself, not for Dylan. I really believe that, he realized with a sobering sense of reality. He scooped Dylan up into his arms as he marched back into the house. I believe in my family. And there’s no way in hell I’m just going to give it up this easily. I have to fight for us. I have to fight for Kira. And Lucian. And Dylan. For all of us.
There was no more time for fucking around, no more time to lie to himself about his feelings for Kira. He had to fight for the people he loved.
Chapter Nineteen
Brent
“Hey, excuse me, I’m here to see about Kira Foster,” Brent said to the policewoman on duty at the front desk of the local jail. “I believe she was booked here about an hour ago. I’d like to see if there’s any way I could post her bail.”
The policewoman sighed and shrugged, then typed punched at her computer keyboard, staring at her screen for several long moments before she turned back to look at Brent. “Sorry. Her hearing isn’t till tomorrow morning.”
“What does that mean?” Brent asked, barely keeping himself from punching a hole in the glass partition that separated the policewoman from him.
“It means you can’t do anything today,” the cop told him. She smacked her gum rudely before turning her attention back to her computer. She punched listlessly at her keyboard for a solid minute before she realized that Brent was still standing there, staring at her. “What?” she asked
“She’s not supposed to be here,” Brent said. “She’s been framed. I need to meet with her so I can arrange a lawyer to represent her in court tomorrow.”
The cop rolled her eyes and blew a bubble with her gum before answering him. “You can see her tomorrow. For now she’s still being put through processing. Just come back in twenty-four hours and you can visit. Okay? Okay. Have a nice day.”
Brent held his ground, turning to look back at Dylan, who was sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting area, an anxious look spread across his little face. “I’m not leaving here till I see her,” Brent said. He was trying to keep his tone hard and firm but still unthreatening. He was dealing with enough conflict with his MC at the moment that he really didn’t need to start bullshit with the police department, who probably recognized him from all the drug busts that had been happening during the Soul Catchers’ deals over the past couple of months anyway. He needed to keep a clear head if he was going to help Kira out of this clusterfuck of a situation.
The policewoman looked unimpressed with his idle threat, tapping her long, intricately painted fingernails against the desk. “Sir, you’re welcome to hang out in the waiting room as long as you’d like, but you’re not getting in to see her until tomorrow. So if I were you, I’d go ahead and skedaddle right now before you waste any more time.”
Brent groaned quietly, considering his options for a minute, before he noticed Dylan tugging harder on the bottom of his pants, trying to get his attention. “What is it?” he asked, kneeling down to look Dylan in the eyes.
“Can we see Kira and Lucian now?” Dylan asked. He bit down on his bottom lip anxiously.
Brent sighed and rubbed the top of Dylan’s head. “Not just yet, buddy. We’ve got to do some stuff first.”
Dylan frowned but didn’t say anything right away, his little brow furrowed up in frustration and confusion. He stared at Brent for a long moment with wide, pleading eyes then reached up and tugged Brent’s arm down. For a minute, Brent was confused, unsure of what his son was trying to do, but then it finally clicked. He wants me to hold his hand, Brent realized. He felt a twinge of pain in his chest as he awkwardly wrapped his hand around his son’s. It felt weird, almost unnatural, and he was tempted to pull his hand back and force Dylan to cope by himself, but he quickly realized he couldn’t do that. He misses Kira, who’s basically been acting as his mom for the last several weeks. He
needs comfort. Brent didn’t know how to do that—comfort a sad and confused little boy—but he knew he had to try.
“Come on,” he said. On impulse, he reached down to scoop the little boy up into his arms, encouraging him to wrap his arms around his neck as he headed out into the jail’s parking lot, where he’d parked Kira’s car five minutes earlier.
“Where are we going now?” Dylan asked. Brent dropped him into the car seat in the back of Kira’s car.
“My clubhouse,” Brent said. “The place where all my friends hang out. We’ve got to find the MC’s lawyer so we can get Kira back.”
Brent was tempted to speed the whole way to the Soul Catchers clubhouse, but he could hear Kira’s voice in his head berating him for even considering it with Dylan in the backseat. So instead, he focused on gripping the steering wheel as hard as he could, praying that Milton, the club’s lawyer, would still be at the compound at this late hour.
