Unlikely Hero

by Sean Michael

  Gordon’s eyebrow went up. “Pardon me?”

  Brock snorted and left Eric’s side to get up in the man’s face, happy to be able to do something. “Gordon is a professional when it comes to personal security and kidnapping. The man’s company is responsible for rescuing countless kids that have been taken, and he’s our best bet to get Josie back quickly and safely.”

  “Look, this is—”

  “Marty.” Another cop came over, stood right behind Gordon, almost the same size as Gordon. “You and I both know Gordie’s on the level. Let the man work.”

  “Max.”

  “That wasn’t a request, Marty.”

  Brock nodded at Max—he hadn’t seen the cop, who also happened to be Gordon’s lover, come in. “Thanks. Eric, come on. We’re going to show Gordon where to find Chrissie.”

  “Okay. Okay, sure.” Eric wavered a little as they walked. “What if someone calls here?”

  Max smiled, the look sympathetic. “I’ll be here, with Office Martinez. This is the department’s number one case right now, do you understand?”

  Gordon tugged him aside as Max talked to Eric. “Boss, you need to understand, the press is going to start picking this up. Do you want your name involved?”

  “No. The last thing I want is any of these kids—or anyone else—thinking Eric’s got access to bigger money.” He was pretty sure Eric wouldn’t want to suddenly have to deal with twenty-four-hour security. Hell, the man didn’t even have an alarm on his front door.

  “Okay. Then you hole up here, huh? Let me go out with Eric first, and we’ll pick you up back in the alley?”

  He grumbled, but he could see the sense in it and he nodded. “All right. You take care of him; he’s had a couple of shots of whiskey and half a Valium.”

  “I have your back, man. You know that.” One huge hand wrapped around Eric’s elbow, leading him out.

  Brock watched them go, knowing Eric was safe with Gordon. He headed for the back door, slipping out while everyone’s attention was on Gordon and Eric.

  God, the backyard was so… normal. A swing set. Toys. A little gas grill. A tiny vegetable plot with seedlings.

  He went out the gate at the far end and walked to the other end of the alley.

  Gordon’s big black Hummer pulled up and he climbed into the back seat. Eric was looking into the backyard through the window, shaking his head. “She’s going to get a small pool this summer for the backyard. I promised her.”

  Brock leaned forward, hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Can she swim?”

  “Not yet. But she wants to, so badly. She loves baths.”

  He could picture Eric bathing his daughter, water and bubbles everywhere. It was just so… domestic. He couldn’t decide if that was creepy, adorable, or just wrong.

  Luckily Gordon interrupted at that point, asking for directions.

  “The park is down off Mays. Turn left at the light.” Eric was looking around, trembling a little. “Could you hear her when they called? Was she crying?”

  He squeezed Eric’s shoulders. “You sure you want to do this to yourself?”

  “I… I need to know. Is she okay?”

  “She’s unhurt, alive. She wasn’t happy.” Gordon looked grim.

  “Of course she wasn’t. She wants you, Eric. You have to concentrate on the good, on what’s coming.”

  “I want her home.” Eric sighed, the sound sad. “I want you to meet her.”

  “I will. And I’ll take you both for a picnic and for golf, and we’ll have a good time.”

  “Okay. Okay, Brock…. Hey, turn right up here and head down the street.” Eric sighed.

  Brock leaned forward, looking everywhere as Gordon followed Eric’s directions. He hoped like hell they found Josie sooner than later.

  “Stop. There’s a group of kids. Her friends. There on the corner.”

  Gordon slowed the car and parked before grabbing the binoculars and handing them to Eric. “Is Chrissie in the group?”

  “I….” Eric looked, blond eyebrows lowering as he tried to focus the binoculars. “No. No, and her boyfriend and best friend aren’t there either.”

  “All right, the next place then.” Gordon started the Hummer up.

  “They wouldn’t be in public, right? I mean, at a diner or something?”

  Gordon shook his head. “Or at their houses. The cops are taking that route.”

  Brock let his hand slide up Eric’s arm. “Where else do they hang out? You know this, Eric. I know you do.”

  “The barn in Acker’s field. Down in that parking lot off Maness.” Eric pointed down a roughly paved road that turned to gravel about the point that the trees crept right up to the edges. Brock would bet that kids brought their sleds up here in the winter—it was isolated enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about traffic, about adults harshing their fun.

  “The barn first—they could hide her there.” Gordon had already turned the car toward Acker’s field.

  “It still gets cold at night and she has nightmares. She needs her night-light.” God, Eric was obviously going through every worst-case scenario he could think of.

  “She’s going to be okay, Eric. We’re going to get her. Gordon’s got blankets and all sorts of shit in the back.”

  “Right. Going to get her and bring her home.”

  Eric kept directing them toward the field in the quickly fading light, sure and steady.

  Brock wasn’t a praying man, but he found himself doing it now. He wasn’t sure how much longer Eric could keep it together. There were three older cars at the gate, one the silver one with the bumper sticker from earlier. Bingo.

  Brock squeezed Eric’s shoulders. “This is it,” Brock whispered as Gordon cut out the engine. “How do we do this, Gord?”

  “You two sit tight. I’ll go in.” Gordon met Eric’s eyes. “You stay here, man. No matter what.”

  “I.”

  “No. Matter. What.”

  Brock tightened his hold on Eric’s shoulders. “He’ll stay.” Brock would make sure of that because he trusted Gordon with his own life.

  “Good.” Gordon slipped out of the Hummer and headed for the barn, going around to the back.

  Eric stared. “Brock, shouldn’t we go? What if he needs help?”

  “He said stay, baby, so we stay.” He patted Eric’s shoulder with one hand. “You want to come sit in back here with me?”

  “No. I want to go in there and get my Josie.”

  “Gordon is going to get her. He’s the best in the business. You let him do his job.”

  “I’ll try.”

  They both watched as Gordon crept toward the dilapidated barn, moving slow, staying low. It was excruciating to just sit and watch, and he could only imagine how much worse it was for Eric.

  Brock saw the puff of smoke from one of the broken windows before he heard the shot and Gordon swung around, grabbing one shoulder for the barest second and then pulling a pistol from a shoulder holster.

  “Fucking shit.” These were supposed to be high school kids. What the fuck were they doing with a gun?

  He held tight to Eric. Running out now would only put him in the line of fire.

  “Brock!” Eric screamed. “They shot him!”

  Gordon was running now, his own pistol at the ready, toward the barn.

  “They shot at him. He’s going to get her.” He started climbing over the front seat of the Hummer, managing to get himself into the driver’s seat. “This way we can make a quick getaway when he comes out with her.” His heart was pounding hard, his stomach in his throat.

  “Should we call 911?”

  He thought about it for half a second and then nodded. If nothing else, the cops needed to be there to make arrests. “Do it. Tell them who you are and where we are.”

  “Okay.” Another series of shots rang out as Eric dialed, whimpering. Brock didn’t say anything, but there was a line of bright red staining the back of Gordon’s shoulder.

  Brock hated this. He ha
ted just sitting around while other people did.

  Two teenaged girls ran out of the barn—one the blonde he’d seen before, the other a skinny redhead in a green-and-white cheerleader outfit, both screaming and crying. Fuck. He could hear the sirens but these kids would be long gone before they got here.

  “I’m going to get them,” he told Eric, opening his door silently.

  “No. I will.” Eric bolted out of the car, moving faster than Brock thought his ex-lover could. “You two stop!”

  “Shit!” Brock ran after Eric, cursing with every step.

  There was another series of shots, the sounds of sirens, and then Eric reached the girls, grabbing them both.

  “Who’s got the gun?” Brock demanded, coming up behind Eric, hand helping to hold the teenagers.

  “Art,” the blonde sobbed. “He’s gone crazy in there.”

  “Josie! Josie, is my little girl in there?”

  The blonde nodded and Eric took off like a shot, heading right into the line of fire.

  “Eric!” Brock didn’t have to even stop to consider it; he let the girls go and took off after the idiot.

  It was like a nightmare, watching the barn doors open, one kid armed with a small rifle in his hands and another slung over his back, while a second kid came zipping out on a four-wheeler, a screaming little girl under his arm, her legs kicking furiously.

  Eric never slowed down.

  Not until the boy took aim at him and shot.

  Twice.

  Roaring, Brock made a split-second decision and launched himself at the four-wheeler; he knew instinctively it was what Eric would want him to do.

  He heard more shots, but he ignored them, focusing on that little girl, who was fighting and screaming, calling for her daddy. He saw as the kid decided to throw Josie out of the four-wheeler and he sped up, desperate to catch her, to save her. He got hold of her, but he had to overreach to do it and his feet went out from under him. Throwing himself around, he managed to land on his back, Josie on top of him. He was winded and his head slammed against the ground, momentarily stunning him.

  There were lights and sirens, people yelling, and then someone took Josie out of his arms. He made sure that someone was a grown-up—a cop as it happened—and then he sat up, looking for Eric.

  “Boss? You hurt?” Gordon was covered in blood.

  “Gordie! Get your ass over here!” Gordon’s lover was bellowing, furious.

  “I’m fine—Eric needs a doctor. And go see Max before he shoots you himself.” He crawled over to Eric. “Baby, we got your girl.”

  Eric wasn’t moving. Not at all.

  “Boss, you…. You gotta get back. Let the ambulance in.”

  He ignored Gordon, his hands on Eric’s face. “Come on, baby. Josie needs you.” Jesus, Eric was so fucking cold.

  “Daddy!”

  At her scream, Eric’s eyes fluttered. “Jo….”

  “Yeah, that’s right, baby. That little girl needs her daddy—you make sure she has him.”

  “Hurts. I. You don’t let El take her to Mother. You watch her. For me, Bee. For me. Please.”

  Jesus, he hadn’t heard that pet name in years. Years.

  “Baby, I….” He groaned as Eric coughed, blood staining the pale lips, and then he nodded. “All right, Eric. For you.”

  “For me. For—” Those eyes rolled up and Eric started convulsing, feet hammering on the ground.

  “Help! Somebody help him!” Brock shouted.

  Max grabbed him, pulled him out of the way. “The little girl needs family to go with her to Children’s. You’re his partner, right?”

  “That’s right.” Not strictly the truth, but he was the closest thing Eric had to one, and he’d made the man a promise that he’d take care of Josie. “Make sure he’s taken care of, okay?”

  “You have my word. She’s in that ambulance.” Max pointed to one of five. Jesus. Five.

  He nodded at Max. “Take care of that man of yours, too.” Then he trotted over to the ambulance. Once he was closer, he was able to pick out the right one right away. Josie was crying, screaming for her father.

  Wincing, he made his way over to her. “Josie. Josie, I’m Brock—your daddy asked me to come take care of you.”

  “Daddy….” She sobbed, fighting the EMTs. “No! No! No no no no!”

  The screams escalated and he opened his arms, the frightened girl catapulting into them.

  She was tiny, but strong, her arms wrapping around his neck in a death grip. “There, there,” he murmured, patting her back. He had no idea what to say to her, what to do.

  “Sir, we need to take her in.” The woman held her hands out, and the girl screamed again.

  “NONONONONO!”

  Okay, well. Josie was her father’s daughter. She wanted to hold on to him.

  “I’ll stay with her. I promised Eric I’d stay with her.” He nodded toward the ambulance. “You want us in here?”

  “Yes. We’ll take her to Children’s. Thank you.”

  They climbed on and she held tight to him, shaking and sobbing softly.

  “I’ve got you,” he told her, going back to the awkward patting. “You’re safe now.”

  “I bet you need to use the potty, huh? Maybe a snack?” The EMT kept talking, but Josie wasn’t budging.

  Maybe she just needed to hold on to someone who wasn’t holding her for ransom and who didn’t have a gun.

  “You hungry?” he asked Josie. “Or thirsty?” He’d kill for a shot of that whiskey right about now, himself.

  “Wants Daddy.”

  “Yeah, I know. He’s got stuff he has to do, though, so he asked me to stay with you, okay?”

  Shit, the poor thing had been taken and held under God knew what kind of conditions, with people she didn’t know, and now all she wanted was her daddy and he was saying no. He wouldn’t blame her if she got hysterical again. He was hoping that didn’t happen, but he wouldn’t blame her.

  “Cookie?” Those black eyes looked hopeful.

  He chuckled and glanced up at the EMT. “I want one, too, so I hope you have a whole box of them.”

  “I have a box of Girl Scout cookies in the cab.” The EMT smiled.

  “You rock. Did you hear that? There are cookies.”

  “Cookie?” At his nod, she gave him a tremulous smile.

  He smiled back, pleased as punch he’d kept her from starting to cry again. The EMT brought a packet of cookies and got them settled quickly for the drive. He opened the package and picked up a chocolate cookie, handing it over.

  “T’ank you.” She ate it, allowing the EMT to take her blood pressure.

  Brock closed his eyes and leaned back against the side of the ambulance. “Is everyone being taken to the same hospital?”

  “Yes and no. We’re all in the same complex, sir, but different buildings.”

  “Can you get on the radio and find out how her f-a-t-h-e-r is doing?”

  “I’ll try, absolutely.” She found a little stuffed cat, offered it to Josie, who grabbed it.

  “Thank you. How is she doing? Everything okay?” Brock asked.

  “She looks fine. Scared, upset, a few bruises, but fine.”

  “Okay. Good.” That was something, right?

  “Yes, sir.” There was a little quiet murmuring, and then she shot him a quick look.

  He narrowed his gaze on her. “What?”

  She shook her head. “They’re performing CPR.”

  He felt the blood drain from his face.

  “I’m sorry.” She looked away, and Josie started wriggling.

  Brock let her wriggle for a moment, trying to catch his breath. This was crazy. Insane.

  “They’re going to get him into surgery, sir. Right away.”

  “He’s got something to fight for.” Brock said it to remind himself of that. This little girl he was holding meant everything to Eric, he’d seen that, and the man would fight death itself for her.

  “Daddy.” As if thinking about him made
her want Eric, she asked for him.

  “He’s going to the hospital in another ambulance, okay?” God, what was he supposed to tell her?

  She stared at him, dark eyes exhausted and confused.

  “How about a nap?”

  “My bed?”

  Jesus, everything was a pitfall, wasn’t it?

  “How about a sleepover?” Was she even old enough to know what that was?

  Her brow furrowed, and she stared at him, blinking slower and slower. He stared back, willing her to go to sleep.

  Her fists stayed curled in his lapels, even as she dozed off. The EMT sighed. “They’re going to wake her back up when we arrive. It’s taking longer because of the situation. They want to move her into a secure room immediately.”

  He nodded. “Good. That’s good. I’ll stay with her.” He didn’t make it a question; he’d made Eric that promise.

  “The nurses there are amazing. They’ll help.”

  “Good, good.” Very good, because he didn’t have a clue how to take care of a little kid.

  Not one.

  “Here we are. Can you carry her in?”

  That he could do without any problems. She didn’t weigh any more than his briefcase on a busy night. He nodded and climbed out of the ambulance, Josie clutching him like she knew they were going to try to take her away from him.

  The lights and noise were a little overwhelming, even to him. He held on tight to Josie, patting her back now and then with one hand, and followed the EMT inside.

  Chapter Two

  BROCK SLIPPED into Josie’s hospital room and settled in the chair next to her bed. He leaned his head against the back of it and closed his eyes.

  Fuck, he was tired.

  The doctors wanted Josie to stay overnight for observation and Brock had no problem with that. His place was so not kid friendly.

  A call in to his secretary, with apologies for the late hour, ensured that there would at least be Cheerios and milk in his kitchen and toys in his living room when he brought her home. Because he would be bringing her home; Eric was still in surgery, the nurse having strict orders to come tell him the minute there was any news. What he did know was that, no matter how the surgery went, Eric was going to be in the hospital for a while.