by Brynne Asher
I see the call is still connected. “Hello?”
“Are you okay? What happened?” she probes.
I look up to find an officer coming my way, talking into a radio and say, “I’m okay. They’re gone and the police are here. Finally. I’ve got to call the kids to open the door.”
“Okay. But next time, do what we tell you and stay in your car,” she says, sounding put out.
Seriously? Next time? Holy shit—there had better never be a next time.
I don’t say goodbye and hang up to dial Jordy when the officer gets to me, stooping low to ask if I’m hurt. I put my finger up, silently telling him to hang on and say to Jordy when he answers in his small, scared voice, “It’s all good, sweetheart. You can come out to me now.”
I lean against the wall and cringe, thinking I’ll probably have a bruise on my shoulder and say to the officer, “The kids are coming out. Their mom left them home by themselves and they’re scared.”
The officer narrows his eyes and shakes his head as he radios more garbled police language through the radio with a bunch of codes that I don’t understand. I do hear the words, “unaccompanied minors, abandoned, and EMS,” before the apartment door flings open.
The next thing I know, Jordy and Cara throw themselves at me on the hard ground where I’m sitting against the wall. They’re scared, trembling and Cara’s crying outright while Jordy’s barely holding it together. I wrap them up in my arms and breathe a sigh of relief, forgetting about the pain in my head, shoulder, and elbow.
I look up to the officer. “I need to call their dad.”
He looks down with a warm smile. “We’ll do that. You’re busy with something more important right now.”
I squeeze the kids tighter and nod, telling him how to get hold of Cam. And for the first time throughout the entire debacle, I think about how Cam is going to react to the mother of his children leaving them alone, not to mention the company she’s keeping that put his children in harm’s way. I pull the kids in close, thinking I’m a big fat chicken because I’m thankful the police are going to make that call instead of me, and I’m not even the one he’ll be angry with.
Yep. Big fat chicken.
Cam
I pull into fucking Bekki’s apartment complex, listening to my tires squeal as I come to a stop next to a group of cop cars and an ambulance. Why’s there a fucking ambulance here? They didn’t tell me anyone was hurt.
I’m surprised I didn’t get stopped on my way, breaking every law to get here as fast as I could. I don’t know much, other than my kids are okay and are currently with a friend of mine who got to them during a scuffle outside my ex-fucking-wife’s apartment. My “friend,” also known as Paige Carpino, got to them before the police could, but got caught up in the scuffle first.
And all because fucking Bekki left my seven- and five-year-old kids by themselves.
It’s all I could do not to come undone before I got here.
I run up the stairs, taking them three at a time and find a group of police officers talking in the breezeway. They all turn to me at once.
“Cam Montgomery. You called. I’m their dad,” is all I say.
One of the officers gives me a chin lift and moves out of the threshold where the door is standing open to Bekki’s apartment. “They’re in here.”
I move through the doorway and crackling of police radios only to see Paige sitting on Bekki’s couch with my kids glued to her. Cara’s sitting in her lap, snuggled in tight with Paige’s arm wrapped around her and Jordy’s attached to her other side where she’s holding him close, his arms circling her waist. A guy dressed in an EMT uniform is sitting on the coffee table in front of them with a tiny flashlight, examining Paige’s eyes.
“What the hell?” I growl and, as soon as I do, they all look to me. Cara jumps out of Paige’s lap in a flash, running to me. Jordy doesn’t move a muscle but his eyes tear up and, if it’s possible, he burrows farther into Paige.
I pick Cara up as Paige looks on with apologetic eyes and says softly as she shifts Jordy closer, “It’s all okay, now. The kids aren’t hurt, they’re fine.”
“What happened to you?” I ask frowning and move to them with Cara in my arms.
“She isn’t showing any signs of concussion. I don’t think she hit her head hard. Her shoulder and elbow took the worst of it. She shouldn’t need to come to the hospital unless she wants to. She has full range of motion, some swelling that will turn into ugly bruises, but other than that she’s good,” the EMT answers.
“I was bumped but I’m okay. Really, it’s all good.” She barely smiles.
“Would you quit telling me everything is good and fine?” I bite. “Nothing looks good and fine here, Paige. You’re hurt, not to mention sitting on my ex-wife’s couch and my kids are scared out of their minds because their mother left them alone.”
“Cam,” she whispers and I feel Cara tense in my arms. “They’re fine. It’s over. You need to talk to the police so you can take them home.”
I pull in a breath and turn to the officer, “Where is my ex-wife?”
“We’re trying to figure that out ourselves. We need to ask you some questions,” he looks to Cara before finishing. “Alone.”
I look to Cara. “Go sit with Paige and your brother. I’ll be right outside talking to the police and then we’ll go home.” Cara hangs on tighter and it’s all I can do not to throw a fucking chair through a window. I soften my voice. “Go sit with Paige, baby. Let me get this done so we can go.”
“Okay, daddy,” she utters her first words, her voice small and scared.
She slides down my body and Paige holds her other arm out for her while looking at me. The EMT is packing up his stuff while giving instructions. “If you start feeling dizzy or nauseated, you need to go to the hospital. The bump on your head is small, you should be fine.”
Paige looks to him and nods as she pulls Cara into her other side, grimacing.
Fucking hell.
I turn to head back out the door, pulling it shut behind me. “What the hell happened?”
The officer goes into detail about the shit that went down tonight because of fucking Bekki. My blood boils as I think about my kids being scared and how they could have been hurt. And I think I just might boil over when they describe how they saw Paige being tossed to the wall by the thugs she confronted to keep my kids safe.
“Dispatcher told her to stay put but she waded in anyway, kept emergency on the line. They couldn’t hear much, but she tried to stall them until we got here. We scared them and they knocked her around trying to get by. We’re still trying to piece it all together. We caught one and are holding him on an outstanding warrant, but the other two got away. He’s in the process of being booked as we speak. We’ll know more when we can question him, but we want to know what they have to do with Ms. Montgomery. Figure we’ll find out more when we find her, but she’ll be taken in for Child Endangerment. You have any idea where she is?” he asks.
“No clue,” I answer. “But you can bet I’m calling my attorney as soon as I get home. No way are my kids ever coming back here.”
He reaches into his pocket. “I’ll need your contact information. Already have Ms. Carpino’s. She might need to come in for more questioning. Your son filled us in on what happened before we got here. I hope we won’t have to question the kids again. Here’s my card in case you need anything else from me.”
I take in a big breath as he hands me the card and seethe, “My fucking ex-wife left my kids?”
“Yeah,” he confirms what I know.
“And she waded into that shit by herself?” I tip my head toward the apartment.
This time he shakes his head no but looks exasperated. “Apparently.”
I look out to the parking lot trying to grasp the whole fucking situation.
“She your girlfriend or something?” I hear and look back to the cop.
I cross my arms and breathe out before saying, “She’s somethin’.”
; “She was smart and did the right thing. Until she waded into that mess with three men who could decimate her, that is. That wasn’t smart, but your kids were in there alone and she seemed hell-bent to not let anything happen to them. I’m not sure if you’re lucky or not, that one seems to have a mind of her own.”
“I’m learning that,” I say under my breath. “Can I take them home now?”
But before he has a chance to answer I look down and see fucking Bekki drive into the parking lot. She hurries out of her car and starts to panic as she sees police everywhere. When she looks up and sees me, realization washes over her face that she’s been caught.
“That’s her,” I say to the cop, but he’s already started moving, talking into his radio. Two other officers quickly exit the apartment and follow. They meet Bekki at the bottom of the stairs and I follow. As soon as I see her, I rumble, “You left them alone.”
“Cam, no. I can explain! It was only for a little bit, I had no choice. I had to go back to work—it was important!” she starts to scream as the police toss her purse to the ground and move her to the wall, frisking her.
“Is your name Rebekah Montgomery?” the cop asks.
“What? Um, yes,” she rambles.
He pulls his cuffs out and starts to Mirandize her as she starts to cry, going on and on about how she couldn’t help it and she’d be back soon.
They yank her around and I look at my fucking ex-wife who has put me through hell for years and say, “You can kiss your kids goodbye. I can’t believe even you would pull this shit. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure they never have to see you again.”
“Cam, no. Please!” she screams as they pull her to a cruiser, stuffing her into the backseat.
I turn to the cop. “Can I take them home now?”
“Yeah. We’ll keep in touch,” he says.
I move to fucking Bekki’s apartment, for what I hope for the last time ever, to collect my kids and Paige. I need to get them the fuck home.
Chapter Sixteen
Hanging by a Thread
Paige
It’s late.
It was already mid-evening when the kids called me and we had our scary rigmarole, then we talked to the police and EMS. I told them I was fine and didn’t want anyone fussing over me, but they insisted. I guess they arrested Bekki while the kids and I were inside waiting on Cam. Cam did what he could to buy time so the kids didn’t have to see their mom being carted away in the paddy wagon. Well, maybe they didn’t cart her off in the paddy wagon, but I’m going to pretend they did. She’s just that mean and awful of a mom—if anyone deserves the paddy wagon, it’s Bekki with an i.
While Cam was buying time, he insisted the kids get any and all things they might want from their mom’s apartment. I’m not sure if the kids caught on to this, but I sure did and hope it meant they won’t have to come back here for a long, long time—if ever. What was sadder was they didn’t have much they wanted, nor did they question Cam as to why. They just grabbed their favorite things and, after the paddy wagon rolled out, so did we.
Cam made me come with them even though I insisted I could drive. He said he’d arrange for someone to bring my car to his house. He didn’t seem like he was in the mood to be argued with. If truth be told, he was so angry, I found him a little scary. So off we all went and, on the way to his house, he pulled out his phone to make a call. En route, we stopped by The Shed where Zeke was waiting in the parking lot.
Cam held his hand out to me and demanded, “Keys.”
I dug for them in my purse and gave Zeke a hesitant smile. I decided now wasn’t the time to inform him I wouldn’t be at boot camp tomorrow after being shoved against a brick wall by an AC/DC fan. He’ll just have to figure it out on his own when I’m a no-show. This is the perfect opportunity to bow out of boot camp and I’m taking it.
Cam drove us to his house in continued silence.
Then he got his kids ready for bed like normal but tonight, he asked if they wanted to have a campout. This bought the first smiles I’ve seen from both Jordy and Cara all night.
I thought it was a weird time to have a campout as it was already late, until I saw what happened next. Both kids zoomed to the basement, a place in Cam’s house I’ve yet to explore. I followed slowly and heard what sounded like an air compressor. I walk into a large rec room with ping pong and air hockey tables, plus more toys and kid stuff scattered all over. I’m not surprised to find it a bit of a mess, but at least there’s not trash lying about. The basement is huge and there’s a hallway off to one side, hinting there might be more rooms. I look the opposite direction through a set of double doors.
As soon as I enter, I’m taken aback. Cam has a media room. There’s a large—and I mean large—screen on the wall with a projector suspended from the ceiling. The room is filled with oversized cushy furniture. It’s not super pretty but it does look like you could sink into it for hours and it might not be a big deal if you spilled your popcorn. He’s moved the coffee table to the side and is bent on one knee, filling a second mattress with the air compressor I knew I heard. Cara and Jordy come running out of the hallway with blankets and pillows.
“I wanna pick the movie!” Cara screams.
“No, I’m picking the movie,” Jordy argues.
“I’ll pick the movie,” Cam decides.
“Cool,” Jordy mutters.
“Nooo!” Cara whines.
“Go make the popcorn, it’s too late for Cokes. Only water,” Cam instructs.
Jordy jumps up and Cara trudges off, grumpy from not being able to pick the movie.
“Should I help them with the popcorn?” I ask.
“They can handle the microwave, but you can if you want,” he says looking at his task, plugging up the mattress.
“Cam?” I call, wondering if he’s ever going to talk to me after all that’s happened tonight.
He looks to me and he’s pissed when he growls, “I can’t get into it now. Not with the kids up. I’m hanging on by a thread here—about to fucking snap.”
Well, then. There’s my answer.
You know what? I’m sorry he’s hanging by a thread and I know he’s out of his mind pissed about Bekki. I can’t imagine how it feels to have your kids put in danger, but I’ve had a rough night, too. He wasn’t the one on the phone with his kids when they were scared. He didn’t have to confront three scary guys, even though the police were slowly on their way. And my guess is, he doesn’t have a headache right now or a throbbing shoulder and elbow.
I narrow my eyes, glaring at the raging brick wall staring back from across the room before turning on my bare foot to march up the stairs and help with popcorn. Of course, he would only have microwave popcorn. I make a mental note to buy them the real thing. And I’ll get M&M’s to sprinkle on top. It’s better with Candy Corn, but you can only get those in the fall with pumpkin beer.
I hear the doorbell as I’m stomping into the kitchen and change direction. I see Zeke through the panes and open the door to greet him with a tired, “Hey.”
He tosses me my keys. “Sweet ride.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, thanks.”
“What’s wrong?” he grins.
“Nothing. I have a headache.”
“You have a headache?” Cam walks up behind me with a frown still plastered on his face.
“I’m fine, but now I can go home. I’ll take something and go to bed.” I turn to Zeke. “Thanks for bringing my car. Oh, and I won’t be there tomorrow. Don’t wait on me to start the torture.”
“Why won’t you be there?” Zeke asks.
“You’re not going home,” Cam says, snatching the keys out of my hand.
“I am,” I snap, snatching them back before turning to Zeke. “I had somewhat of an incident tonight. I’m not going to feel like throwing the garden hose around tomorrow. Or, maybe ever.”
“What incident?” Zeke noses.
Faster than me, Cam snatches my keys, again, and holds them up high out of
my reach. “Darlin’, you’re not going home.”
“You’re going home?” We all turn toward the opening of the family room where Cara’s standing. She’s juggling a bowl of popcorn, a tiny bottle of water with a blanket that looks so loved, it might fall apart.
“You can’t go home!” Jordy yells, his voice laced with something that cuts through me. It’s not as bad as earlier, but a bit of the panic returns. “You live in an apartment, too. You got hurt. What if those people come back?”
I don’t know what to say, so I’m glad Cam steps in and softens his voice. “Buddy, you’re home now and nothing’s going to happen. You’re safe here and Paige isn’t going anywhere tonight.”
Jordy looks to me frowning. “You’re not leaving?”
I sigh and look into his big brown eyes that are crinkled with nerves. “No, sweetheart. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”
I see his little boy shoulders fall, the tension releasing from his taut body. He doesn’t smile, but he does give me a relieved look. He and Cara turn to the basement stairs to settle in for their campout.
“Man, what happened tonight?” Zeke asks.
“I’ll tell you later. I won’t be in tomorrow. I’ve got things I need to take care of. Can you look after shit for me?” Cam asks.
“No problem. I’ll check in later in case you need anything,” Zeke says.
“Thanks,” Cam answers and starts to shut the door.
“Bye,” I call and barely see Zeke’s white grin before Cam swings the door shut, locking us in.
He crosses his arms while frowning. “You have a headache?”
I do have a headache, but I’ve decided I’ve had enough of Grumpy Bear Cam for the night. I give him The Ice and turn to follow the kids toward the basement. I have no idea where this is going between us, but I’ve decided that from now on, Grumpy Bear will always get The Ice. Especially when I don’t deserve his Grumpy Bear.
The kids are settled on their air mattresses chomping away on popcorn with Ariel snuggled up against Cara. But I stop when I see the movie that’s cued up and ready to go on the Blu-Ray.
