Solid Steel

by J. B. Havens

  “So, I take it you like the gift?” Carter spoke from behind me.

  I stood as quickly as my sore body would allow and wrapped my arms around him. “I don’t want to know how you made this happen, but I’m so glad you did. Thank you.”

  His long arms enveloped me into a tight and emotional hug. Since Phillipa’s birth, my hormones had been going haywire; the smallest things choked me up. Silent tears tracked down my cheeks, falling onto his cotton t-shirt and darkening the fabric. “Easy, sweetheart. I only like to wash myself in the tears of my enemies.”

  Laughing, I extracted myself from the hug, wiped my face on my sleeve, and sat back down to finish my food. I was quickly discovering that as a mother you had to take whatever opportunity was afforded to you to eat.

  “I never thought I’d be saying this, but thank you, Carter. What you’ve done for us….” Jordon extended his hand for Carter to shake.

  The two were always at odds, but it felt like some bridge building was going on here. It also helped that Carter was so obvious about his love for Jordyn that there was no way Chris could feel threatened by him anymore. Carter only had eyes for her.

  “No problem; well, actually it was, but I’d do anything for you guys. You know that. You’re just as much my family as Trident is.” Carter shook Jordon’s hand and grinned, while Chris returned his own dimple-flashing smile.

  “Okay; fucking hell, guys, are you done yet? I’m going to get feelings all over me and they don’t mix well with my badass look.” Flynn dramatically brushed off his clothes, making an exaggerated face of disgust.

  “Fucking Flynn,” I muttered before stuffing the last of my sandwich into my mouth. While chewing, I heard Phillipa on the monitor beginning to cry. Before I could even stand-up, I heard Aunt Beatrice and Jackson on the monitor.

  “Shh now, it’s okay. Auntie Beatrice and Uncle Jackson are here.”

  “Uncle Jackson?” I hadn’t thought about that, but I guess he was.

  “Why is she crying? What’s wrong with her?”

  “Nothing is wrong with her, Fisher! Goodness, she’s a baby. They cry, poop, and sleep. It’s just the way it is.”

  “I told you before, Beatrice, I don’t know anything about babies. Maybe you should take her down to Mic. She’s the mom here, she’ll know what to do.”

  “Fisher Jackson, she’s a baby, not a live bomb or something. Just hold her for a second while I find her a clean outfit.”

  We were all laughing, none of us willing to go upstairs and help. Hearing Jackson’s distress was much too entertaining. I ignored the instinct to go and see what happened. If it was a blow-out that required a change of clothes, I’d just let them deal with it and finish my macaroni and cheese while I had the chance.

  “Holy fucking hell, Beatrice, what is that!”

  “Fisher! Don’t swear in front of the baby; you’ll scare her. I’m going to do my best to keep her from having a filthy mouth like the rest of you. She can’t help it. Poor sweetie girl. I bet you feel better now, huh?”

  Phillipa had stopped crying and was making gurgling sounds in response to Aunt Beatrice’s cooing and chatter. Clattering noises came across on the monitor and Jackson was muttering something that we couldn’t make out. Their voices faded and I figured they were on their way down.

  “That’s hilarious. You really dodged a bullet there, didn’t you, Mic?”

  Shrugging, I drank the rest of my water and went to the sink. “Everyone remember to wash your hands before you pick her up, okay? She doesn’t have much of an immune system yet and you bastards always have gun oil or something on you.”

  “Mic, you owe the swear jar!” Flynn had procured an old ammo can from somewhere and placed it on the counter.

  “Fine. I’ll pay later. I don’t exactly have any money on me at the moment.”

  Aunt Beatrice walked into the kitchen holding the tiny pink bundle that contained our daughter. The men all oohed and ahhed over her, every one of them afraid to hold her. Except for, surprisingly, Rook. He reached out and carefully cradled the back of her head with one hand and kept his other under her bottom. His paws were so large and she was so small that she fit easily into his palms. He brought her close to his face, his long dark hair framing her miniature body.

  “Hello, P.J. I’m your Uncle Rook. I’m going to teach you how to kick the behind of any boy who so much as looks at you.” He kissed her cheek softly and her tiny balled up fists brushed his face in response. Rosa stood behind him, her eyes shining with love and wonder. There was nothing like a new baby to bring everyone together.

  The guys passed her around, slowly and gently, introducing themselves to her. These men, each one capable of dealing out death and suffering with their bare hands, were gentle and cautious. They took great care to speak softly and temper their rough voices and words.

  “God help any boy who thinks for even a second that he’s going to date her,” Chris muttered from where he stood beside me, his arm across my shoulders.

  “There isn’t a boy in the world that has the balls to run this gauntlet. Not to mention meeting our standards. Anyway, right now let’s focus on sleeping through the night; we have lots of time to worry about boys meeting our daughter.”

  It was Red’s turn. She held P.J. awkwardly, unaccustomed to dealing with babies. She looked pained, and frankly, scared. Flynn took P.J. from his girlfriend/partner, or whatever they were. “Hey there, little one!” He propped her up onto his shoulder, patting her tiny back and rubbing it in circles. “Wow, she smells good. Who knew babies could smell so delicious? I know!” Bringing her down where he could see her face, he said, “I’m going to call you PB&J, because you’re so adorable, I could just eat you up!” Phillipa looked up at him with wide, alert eyes. I could see her mind working, trying to put together who this guy was and what he was doing to her. Her mouth turned down into a frown and she wrinkled her forehead. Her bottom lip popped out and I could see a cry building.

  “Here, let me take her.” Her wail burst forth, ear-piercingly loud. As I rocked her back and forth and softly shushed her, I noted the faces of the men around me. They looked scared and worried, unsure of what to do. They were fine with her when she was half-asleep and calm, but now that she was acting like the newborn she was, they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

  “What’s the matter with her? Did I scare her?” Flynn looked devastated.

  “No,” I chuckled. “She’s hungry. It’s okay, Flynn. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just need to go feed her.” I left the kitchen with the baby and went into the den. I didn’t really feel like climbing the stairs to the nursery again. Carefully sitting down, I pulled up my shirt and began to nurse her. Chris had come into the room with me, but everyone else was hiding out in the kitchen. Which was fine with me, since I wasn’t comfortable enough to nurse Phillipa in front of them yet.

  “Life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you need, even when you don’t know you need it.” Chris gently stroked his finger across P.J.’s forehead, driven to touch her, but not wanting to disturb her.

  “Yes, it does.” I smiled up at his handsome face, the same image that was reflected in the face of our child.

  Chapter Five

  Five months later…

  I pushed P.J.’s stroller along the driveway, heading down to the gate before turning around and coming back up. She’d been restless today and I was thinking of taking her to the park after lunch. In these short months she’d grown from a newborn to an infant and was on her way to toddlerhood. She was almost crawling and babbled constantly. She smiled and had the most wonderful sounding belly laugh I’d ever heard. Things were more or less back to normal. Chris and I took turns working with clients and watching P.J. We didn’t want to hire a nanny; neither one of us wanted a stranger around her. With everyone that lived at the Castle, there was really no need for a babysitter.

  “Ready for some lunch, sweetie pie?” She turned her head at the sound of my voice. Her fist was stu
ffed in her mouth, drool leaving a slimy wet trail down her chin and arm. “Someone is working on another tooth, huh?” The teething would explain the restlessness and crankiness of the past few nights. She was usually fine all day; it was only at bedtime that she got fussy. I turned the stroller around and decided to jog back to the castle. I needed to hit the gym and get back into shape. Thankfully, I hadn’t gained too much weight when I was pregnant, but my body had changed drastically since giving birth. I had stretch marks and wrinkly skin on my stomach that I knew would never go away. I was different, both physically and mentally. My whole world had shifted and realigned. Phillipa was the sun and Chris and I orbited around her. “Lunch time and a nap for you, then to the gym for Mommy, and maybe the park. How does that sound, P.J.?” I huffed slightly, the simple jog doing me in. P.J. babbled in response, kicking her feet against the stroller. “I’ll take that as an affirmative.”

  Mary Grant shuffled across the threadbare carpet of her flat, her worn slippers barely holding together on her feet. She was surrounded by battered objects, other peoples’ trash that she’d taken and brought home to furnish the tiny apartment. Her husband was out looking for work again. He’d lost his job at the small shop down the street for being late too many times and showing up half-drunk. She opened the bathroom door, its fist-sized hole level with where her face was. He’d broken it when she’d ducked his punch. That had earned her another hit to the face that she’d been unable to dodge. As she looked at herself in the grimy mirror, she didn’t see her gaunt face with protruding cheekbones and greasy hair. In her own eyes, she was the stunning beauty still as striking as ten years ago when she’d met George. She smiled, flashing white and perfectly straight teeth worthy of a toothpaste commercial.

  “George will find work today and everything will be just fine. He’ll be happy again and won’t drink as much. We won’t fight about money anymore. I know I can make him happy… I know it. It’s not his fault he has a bad temper. His mum was so mean to him as a boy. It’s not his fault. It’s my fault. If I wasn’t such a stupid cow sometimes, George wouldn’t have to correct me.” She touched her hair, feeling how dirty, greasy, and stringy it was. “I’ll get cleaned up, go for a walk. Some sunshine will do me good. I’ll be pretty as a spring day for when George gets home. He’ll be so happy to see me making an effort.”

  She didn’t think talking to herself was a problem. She was alone all day when George was gone. She didn’t have any friends left and George didn’t much like her family. George was always telling her she talked too much, but she couldn’t help it. The unending silence was unbearable; it strained her mind to the breaking point at times, especially on the days and nights George didn’t come home. She stepped into the shower, washing quickly and careful to use only a tiny amount of shampoo and body wash. She was almost out and they didn’t have money to buy more right now. Drying off and dressing quickly, she made sure to leave a note for George, just in case he came home before she got back. Her stomach was in a knot, as he didn’t like it when she went anywhere without him. She would have to be quick. “I really need some fresh air. He won’t mind too much, not when he sees how pretty I am today. He’ll find work and he’ll be in a good mood.”

  Putting her house key carefully into her jeans pocket, Mary left the small dingy flat and walked down the street to the park. She loved sitting on the bench and watching the children play. She couldn’t have any of her own, but she’d always dreamed of being a mother. Giggling softly at the image of George holding a baby, she took a deep breath of the fresh autumn air and soon arrived at the park where she took a seat on her favorite bench.

  I parked the car, got out, and walked around back to get the stroller out before unbuckling P.J. I slipped the straps over her shoulders and clicked the clasp closed. She looked up at me with wide eyes, curious about where we were. “Let’s go play; how does that sound, sweetie?” I knew she’d want a snack and drink while we were here, so I pushed the stroller around to the other side of the car to retrieve the diaper bag. I stepped on the little pedals to put the brakes on so the stroller wouldn’t roll away while my back was turned.

  “Just a second honey, Mommy has to get your bag.” The diaper bag was canvas and looked like a tactical bag. There were even patches on it, including the name Michaels, just like I used to have on my uniforms when I was still in the Army. Opening the rear drivers’ side door, I reached in for the bag and didn’t see it. “What?” It wasn’t on the floorboard or the seat. “Don’t tell me I forgot it at home?” Sticking my head and upper body into the back, I reached over onto the other side, thinking maybe it had slid across the floor. Nothing. “Dammit.” I backed out of the car, shut the door, and turned back to P.J. “Well baby girl, Mommy left the diaper bag at home. I know I didn’t put it up front with me. I never do; it just slides around.” I looked down at the stroller and my heart stopped.

  “P.J.?”

  It was empty.

  “P.J.!” I screamed and pushed the empty stroller out of the way, looking frantically around. In the distance, about two blocks away, I saw a woman walking. Grabbing the phone from my back pocket, I dialed as I ran to the other side of the park.

  “999, what’s your emergency?”

  “My name is Bea Michaels. I need the police. Someone just kidnapped my baby.”

  Chapter Six

  “Why are you fuckers just standing here! God dammit! That’s my child, and if you’d get the mother fuck out of my way, I’d call in some favors and go find her myself!” I was enraged, never before in my life can I remember being this angry and scared at the same time.

  “Mic.” Chris touched my arm, no doubt in an attempt to calm me down, but I jerked away from him. I couldn’t even look at him right now.

  “Ma’am, we can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, but you need to try and let us do our jobs. We will find your daughter.” The constable standing in front of me spoke, trying to appease me and get me to go home. “If you’d head back to your house, that’s the best place for you. If they are holding her for ransom, you need to be there to take the call.”

  “Fuck that and fuck you.” I whirled around, walking as far away from the group of police as I could and still be in the park. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Ian at Trident.

  “Yo, what’s up, Mic?”

  “I have a situation, and I need you here. Get your crew, get your shit, and get the fuck to Perth, right now.”

  “Mic, what happened? You know we’ll come, but I need info, so I know who and what to bring.”

  “P.J. has been kidnapped. Call Carter; we’re going to need him too.”

  “Fucking hell, Bea. We’ll be there. Hang tight. I’ll text you with our arrival.” He hung up without another word. He didn’t need to say it. I needed the help, and they would drop everything and fly to Scotland. God help whoever took my child because I was going to skin them alive. Slowly. And Carter would hold them down for me while Jordyn sharpened the knives.

  Mary Grant held the baby tight to her chest, clutching the little bundle desperately as she walked home as quickly as possible. She didn’t run; she thought that would draw too much attention to herself. She kept her head down, not looking at people as they passed her on the sidewalk.

  “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. George will be so happy to meet you. He’s your new Daddy, and I’m your new Mum. Everything is going to be just fine, princess.”

  Mary didn’t notice the piercing wail from the baby in her arms, the cry that was full of fear and panic. She didn’t notice any of the security cameras outside the shops that she passed by on her way back to her flat. She didn’t know that the woman she’d just stolen a baby from was a lifelong special operations leader and had many recourses at her disposable for finding her child.

  “She wasn’t even looking at you. She had her back turned. She didn’t want you, if she did, she would have been paying attention. You’re meant to be mine, ours, mine and your Daddy’s. I’ll give you a name, and
you’re going to be loved. You’ll make George happy again, I know it. You’ll see. Jennifer. I like that, I’ve always loved that name.”

  Carefully shifting the baby to her other arm, Mary unlocked the door to her flat and pushed open the door. Shutting it behind her with her foot, she took Jennifer into the bedroom.

  “Now, I’m going to need some nappies and some formula, bottles too I suppose.” She didn’t have any money, let alone enough to buy the expensive baby items. “You’re going to need somewhere to sleep too.” Pulling free a drawer from the dresser, Mary dumped the contents into the corner and lined the drawer with a thick blanket before laying Jennifer inside. “See? Cozy as a bug in a rug. Now, you have a little nap while Mommy goes and gets you some nappies and dinner.”

  Pocketing the key once again, she locked the door behind her. “Jennifer can’t go anywhere, and I’ll only be a minute. She’ll be just fine alone while I pop out quick.”

  I sat at a desk in the police station, answering the same questions over and over. “Why are you asking me all these same fucking questions all over again when you should be out looking for my daughter?” My voice was wearing out; I’d screamed for P.J. while I’d waited for the police to arrive. I’d looked over every inch of that park, hoping against hope that someone had put her down nearby. My breasts grew heavy and swollen in my bra, and a tingling rush spread throughout my chest as my milk let down. “She’s going to be hungry. It’s time for her to eat.” I could feel the wetness of my milk soaking into my bar and shirt. I hadn’t worn the pads in my bra today, thinking I wouldn’t need to since I was going to have her all day.