by K. C. Crowne
I hopped the fence and hurried around the side of the house, as Zach had instructed. There were voices inside the house arguing, though I couldn’t make out the words. I heard Zach’s voice rise, loud enough I could hear him clearly through the walls.
“I can’t do this shit no more,” Zach shouted. “I never agreed to hurt little kids. That shit ain’t right, Mo.”
He was creating a distraction alright, and from the sound of it, the conversation was escalating. Whoever Mo was, he was pissed about Zach wanting to quit the gang. There was a scuffle inside, but I couldn’t wait around to listen. I had to get to Abby.
I walked down the side of the house until I reached the last window on that side. I tried to see inside, but there was a blanket covering the window. I’d be going in blind. I had to trust that Zach got all the guys into the living room.
I took a deep breath, hoping the argument in the other room would drown out what I was about to do. With my fist wrapped in a sweatshirt, I smashed the window open. I flinched at the sound, fearing it was loud enough to hear across town - much less across the house.
The arguing in the other room didn’t even pause, however. I cleared the window of the remaining glass and pushed the blanket aside. My gaze fell on Abby. She was curled up in a corner, her hands covering her ears. She looked up and saw me staring at her, and her eyes got big.
“Shh,” I said, putting my fingers to my lips, hoping she’d understand that we needed to be very quiet.
A second later, a gunshot went off, followed by another. Abby screamed, and over the sound of everything going on, I cried out to her, “Come to me, Abby.”
She curled into herself even more than before, and I knew I’d have to go in and grab her. I hoisted myself up onto the window when I heard footsteps behind me. Holding tight to the gun, I turned around and pointed it at the sound.
Hannah held her hands up.
“What are you doing here? I told you to stay in the car,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice low.
“I heard gunshots,” she said. “I couldn’t just sit there.”
The commotion in the living room got closer to us. It was now or never. I climbed in the window, rushed across the room, and scooped Abby up in my arms. To hold her, I had to put the gun away. She snuggled close, burying her face in my chest as I hurried toward the window.
There were footsteps heading toward the bedroom.
“Here,” I said, handing her out to Hannah. “Take her and run to the car.”
Hannah took Abby in her arms and ran toward the street. I knew I wouldn’t make it out of the window without being seen, so I turned toward the door, gun pointed.
When it swung open, I wasn’t expecting another kid. More like a teen, but definitely not a grown man. The boy was possibly fourteen, if even that. He held his hands up as soon as he saw me, his face frozen. I couldn’t shoot a kid. He wasn’t even armed, from the looks of it.
“Turn around and leave the room,” I ordered. “Don’t tell anyone you saw me. Got it?”
The kid hesitated, then nodded. “I just wanted to find a place to hide.”
I felt for the kid, I did. Whatever was happening in the other room sounded bad.
“Go out first,” I said, motioning toward the window.
The kid nodded and slowly moved closer to me. He was careful not to make any sudden movements, as if he’d been in similar situations before. I kept the gun pointed at him, just in case, but he did exactly as I told him to. He climbed out of the window and I followed.
“Now run,” I said. “Get outta here.”
The kid took off toward the street. I heard voices coming from the front porch, and my heart stopped. It was Hannah’s voice, and she was shouting. I couldn’t make out the words, but I knew she was in trouble.
I took off toward the front of the house. When I rounded the corner, I stopped in my tracks. Hannah had a gun in her hand, pointed at the boy’s head.
Hannah
I saw Justin from the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t take my gaze off the men on the porch. They all had guns pointed at me and Abby, who was at my side. I felt sorry for the kid with the gun pointed at his head. He didn’t know it wasn’t a real gun, but neither did the men on the porch.
Justin and Zach hadn’t given me a weapon, but I’d remembered the fake gun in my purse.
“What’s your name?” I asked the kid quietly, hardly hearing my own words over the thundering of my heart in my chest.
“Dylan,” the kid said. He couldn’t be more than fourteen.
“Who are you to these guys?”
“I’m Mo’s little brother,” Dylan said, his voice shaking.
I had no idea who Mo was, but Dylan seemed important to the guys. They stopped advancing. All of them put their hands up and weapons down when I pulled Dylan toward me. He was the only thing keeping Abby and me alive.
“Listen, Dylan, I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” I whispered. “I just want us to get out of here alive.”
Dylan nodded.
I could hear sirens in the distance, but they were still far off. I’d remembered what Zach had told me about calling the cops, about how he’d be killed if they knew, but when I heard the gunshot, I knew what I had to do. I reported it anonymously, as a neighbor, before hurrying to the house.
Zach was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t on the porch with the others, and I hadn’t seen him at all since I got to the house.
“Which one of you is Mo?” I asked.
One of the guy’s near the front raised his hand. He didn’t look over the age of twenty, none of them did. These were all just kids, I realized. I sympathized with these kids, but at the same time, they were still dangerous. I couldn’t let my guard down just because they were essentially children. They had kidnapped Abby and intended to kill her, and now they would kill me if they had to.
“This your brother, right? If you let me have Zach, and let all of us go, I won’t harm a hair on his head.”
“Zach’s dead,” Mo announced with little emotion in his voice. “Or he will be soon. I shot him in the chest. There’s no saving him.”
My heart dropped. No, no. He can’t be dead. I swallowed my tears; I had to remain tough for Abby and Justin.
“Justin,” I called. “Go check on Zach.”
Justin hesitated, but only for a second. He seemed terrified of leaving me alone with these guys, and I couldn’t blame him. But I had it under control. As long as they didn’t realize the gun was fake, we were safe. Whoever this Mo was, he seemed to be the leader of sorts, and no one would risk his little brother’s life.
The sirens got even closer, and a few of the guys looked at each other. I could tell they wanted to run. As the cop cars approached, two of the kids took off down the street. Then two more, heading in the opposite direction.
But not Mo. He stayed with his little brother.
The cops yelled for us to put down our weapons.
Mo complied, so I did too, setting the diamond-encrusted gun on the ground and letting Dylan go. He ran to his brother, and they hugged, a bittersweet moment for the two of them.
I called out, “There’s someone shot inside the house. He needs help.”
The police told me to get down on the ground, and I dropped. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mo reach for the gun on the ground. I screamed, “Just get down!” but he reached for the weapon anyway.
Gunshots rang around us, and I grabbed Abby, pulling her down with me and covering her ears and eyes, whispering, “It’s going to be okay.”
She’d been through so much, and it killed me that she had to witness this. If only Mo hadn’t reached for his weapon. I prayed she would be okay, that Dylan made it out just fine, that Mo was a terrible shot and didn’t hit a cop. I was afraid to look up until the shooting stopped, and even then, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the aftermath.
There was crying. No, more like sobbing. It sounded like Dylan. I feared the worst when I looked up, still covering Abby’s eyes,
but what I found was much better than expected.
Mo was injured but alive and in handcuffs. Dylan was on the ground, obeying the cop’s orders. The front door to the house was open, and inside, I saw paramedics working on Zach.
Please let him be okay, I prayed. I’d sent Justin inside with him because he had some paramedic training. I hoped he stopped the bleeding until help arrived. Hopefully that saved the kid. After everything, I didn’t want to lose him.
I didn’t want anyone to die today.
An officer came over and helped us up from the ground. She was a soft-spoken woman who immediately put me at ease.
“How’s the boy inside the house? The one that was shot?” I asked.
“He’s in critical condition,” she said solemnly, “but alive.”
“Good,” I said, lifting Abby into my arms and holding her close. “He helped us. He’s a hero.”
She seemed surprised but didn’t express that out loud. “We’d like to get a statement as soon as you feel up to it.”
“Of course,” I said, stroking Abby’s hair. “Anything you need.”
My mind went back to what Zach had said, about his friends working with the cops. I didn’t get the sense that this woman was the type to work with criminals. Sure, I could have been wrong, but she seemed like one of the good ones.
“He mentioned that the gang had people in the police station, insiders who worked with them,” I said, speaking softly.
“That’s what they all say,” she replied gently. “If they do, I haven’t worked with any of them. And if you have any concerns, you can reach out to me, directly.” She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a card.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Diaz,” I said, reading her name from the card. She at least had some seniority in the police force, which made me feel a lot better.
The paramedics carried Zach out on a stretcher. I covered Abby’s face, just in case it was bad, but he was awake.
When he saw me, he said, “Tell my grandma I love her, and I’m sorry.”
“I will, Zach,” I said, tears stinging my eyes. “Just get better.”
Following Zach and the paramedics was Justin. I was relieved the moment I saw him and ran over to him. He wrapped both Abby and me in his arms, kissing the tops of both of our heads.
He squeezed me almost too tight, as if he was afraid to let us go. I didn’t blame him. I never wanted to let him or Abby go ever again.
Ooo000ooo
With the two of us by her side, Abby was able to identify the man she saw with her mother the night he was killed. It was Mo. There was enough evidence to link him with the murder. She owed them money for drugs, so he killed her. His entire life ruined because of some money.
I thought about Dylan and hoped he had a family to take care of him. I mentioned him to Stephanie, and she said she’d look into it. Zach was charged with some gang-related offenses, but since he’d helped us find Abby, his charges were lessened. He likely wouldn’t spend much time behind bars, if at all. Probation and community service, along with some rehabilitation, most likely.
Justin had to get back to work, so with Stephanie’s permission, we were able to take Abby home within a few days. The cops no longer needed her to identify the man who killed her mother, and they had enough proof and other witnesses who would talk - including Zach.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” Justin lamented as we neared New York City.
Abby was asleep in the backseat, but I still shushed him. I didn’t want her to hear her father having any doubts about this.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I argued. “You’ve already proven you’re a loving father who’d do anything for your daughter. What else is there?”
“No, I meant literally ready - meaning my place isn’t ready for her and--”
“Live with me,” I said, cutting him off. “The two of you can stay with me. I have plenty of room.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Of course I’m sure,” I assured him. “There’s no way I want to be apart from either of you.”
He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, dropping a delicate kiss on my knuckles.
“Besides, it’s cheaper than us both having separate places,” I said with a flirty smile. “When we both know we won’t be using one of them most of the time.”
“You’re right,” he said. “It makes sense. Just promise me one thing.”
“If you’re going to ask me to stop being so type A, I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” I said with a laugh.
“No, not at all,” he said, cracking a smile. “I love you just the way you are.”
“Then what is it?”
“Well, I was hoping you might go back to school, do what you love instead of what you think is expected of you,” he said. “Since I’ll be able to help with the bills, it should be easier on you.”
I sighed. He was right. It would be easier, but we had a lot going on. After seeing the kids in Atlanta and how they turned to crime because they knew no other option - it made me want to become a teacher even more. I wanted to work with children who, like my siblings and I, were struggling growing up. Those who deserved more.
“I’ll look into it,” I murmured id after a moment. He gave me a serious look. “No, I mean it. I will. I don’t know the first thing about going to school, but I want to, Justin. I really do. Especially after everything we’ve been through.”
“You’ll make an amazing teacher, you know that?”
I felt myself blushing. “Thank you. Just like you’re going to make an amazing father.”
When we finally got home, Justin carried Abby upstairs to my - I mean, our - apartment. She woke up as we headed upstairs and stared at her dad with a sense of calmness. It was sweet to see her snuggled up against him as we stepped inside the apartment.
I helped Abby get dressed in her pajamas, and we put her to bed in the guest room. She looked so tiny in the large, full-sized bed. The room wasn’t decorated or set up for a child yet, but that would change.
She curled up underneath the blankets and yawned, her eyes still heavy with sleepiness. Justin sat on one side of the bed, I sat on the other.
“You’re safe here, Abby,” Justin said, stroking the little girl’s face. “You have nothing to worry about, okay?”
Abby nodded. “I know,” she said. “You and Hannah will keep me safe.”
Those were some of the first words she’d spoken to Justin directly, and my heart swelled. She knew her daddy would keep her safe. Of course she did, after everything he’d done to save her.
We waited with her until she fell asleep. When her breathing became even and her eyes stayed closed, we quietly left the room, shutting the door behind us.
Justin leaned against the wall and let out a deep breath. He ran a hand over his face, and he looked as exhausted as I felt. The last week had been crazier than anything we could have imagined.
“Are you glad to be home?” I asked, leaning into him.
His arms threaded around me and he pulled me closer, kissing my forehead. “I’m so happy to be home, you have no idea.”
“I may have an idea or two,” I said, smiling up at him.
His hazel eyes bore into mine. There was so much love there, I wasn’t sure how I’d never noticed it before. Through all the teasing, all the bickering of the past, how did I not notice the way he looked at me? It was obvious to me now that his teasing and taunts were merely his way of denying he cared for me.
And deep down, I knew that me pushing him away was my way of denying it too.
Justin’s fingers traced my jawline, lifting my face closer to his. He kissed me long and deep.
“Let’s go to bed,” I whispered against his mouth.
“Yes, let’s,” he said.
From his tone, I knew that we might be going to bed, but sleep was the last thing on both of our minds. Taking his hand, I guided him to my bedroom.
Once inside, I closed the door and began
to undress. I didn’t have to undress because Justin soon took over. His rough hands pulled my shirt off over my head, then practically yanked the pants off my body. I did the same to him - removing every bit of his clothing.
It had been a long day, and my body felt like it was covered in grit and grime. With a playful smile, I stalked out of the room into the master bathroom and stopped in the doorway. I motioned for Justin to follow me.
“I thought a shower before bed might be nice,” I tempted sweetly. “Care to join me?”
“If I ever say no to that, get me to a doctor asap,” he chuckled.
My shower was fairly cramped, not exactly made for two people - especially one as big as Justin - but we made do. It just meant our bodies were pressed against one another. Not exactly a bad thing.
The warm water rolled over our skin as I grabbed a washcloth and some soap. I lathered it up and began washing Justin’s chest. I moved lower to his washboard abs, the water and soap running down his legs.
I dropped to my knees in front of him, and he stared down at me with a look of awe in his eyes. Gently, I washed his member, dropping the washcloth in favor of my hands. I stroked his cock as the water rinsed away all the soap.
Justin shuddered as I took the tip between my lips, using my tongue to tease the head of his massive member. He groaned, his hands finding my head and his fingers entangling in my wet hair.
I took even more of him into my mouth. I couldn’t take every inch of him; he was simply too big. I used my hands to make up the difference, moving up and down on his shaft, my eyes tilted upward to watch his face.
“God, yes,” he moaned.
I loved making him feel good, so I moved faster, gripping his cock tighter with my hand. Every time I came up, I licked the head of his cock, then moved down the sides, tasting every inch of him.
He shuddered again, then pulled me to my feet.
“I need you,” he muttered, kissing me and pressing me against the shower wall.
Justin lifted me off my feet, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. The head of his cock found my opening and spread my pussy lips before being buried deep inside me.