by JJ Knight
“Okay, thank you,” I say. But I already know the answer. If Gwen doesn’t want Gabriella to come to class, she won’t want her to come to the academy at all.
Denham is costing me my daughter.
I have to do something.
Chapter 21
I walk slowly back to class. It seems so forlorn in the studio with only four girls. I can’t believe Gabriella is gone. I worked so hard to get her here.
I stand outside the window a moment. They can’t see me there, as the window is a mirror on their side. Blitz is busily helping Janel show the girls a new routine. There’s still twenty minutes in class.
I don’t second-guess what I have to do. I march straight back down the hall, through the foyer, and am out the door before anyone can even say anything.
The police officer is still by his squad car, writing something on a notepad.
I can’t see Denham, but I know where he is. I make it to the sidewalk and look down. Sure enough, he’s moved another block to get outside the three-hundred-yard protective zone.
“Can I help you, Miss?” the officer asks as I pass, but I hold up my hand. Nothing is going to stop me from talking to Denham. I’m so angry. So absolutely outraged at what he has cost me. I can’t believe I ever loved him. He’s my biggest, worst, most absolute enemy at this moment.
Denham messes with the orange reel. Piles of kinked-up measuring tape are resisting going back on the roll. My ballet slippers are whisper quiet, so I’m right up at him when he notices me.
I shove his shoulders. “What is wrong with you? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
His face is smug. “Y’all are mighty jumpy in there for people who don’t have anything to hide.”
“You went crazy in there! Shouting and carrying on like a psycho. Of course Danika called the police.”
Denham sniffs, his attention back on rolling up the reel. “I aim to find my baby girl.”
“She isn’t at Dreamcatcher,” I say. At least now it’s the truth.
“Then I reckon you better get right on with telling me where she is so I can be on my way. We don’t have to have a thing to do with each other.” He shakes the reel hard to knock out a kink in the tape. “I’m over all that, Miss Fine and Dandy.”
“You cannot mess with her life,” I say. “That isn’t fair. You haven’t been out of jail more than a few months at a time anyway. What is she supposed to do when you go back in?”
The tape unsnarls and rolls up, snapping against the case.
“I’m a changed man. I got obligations now. I intend to live up to them.” He gives me a dark glance. “Not pawn them off on somebody else.”
My head wants to explode. He thinks I wanted to give up my baby?
“I had no choice,” I hiss. “I was fifteen with a father who was off-the-rails angry.” I step forward and poke him again, making an indentation in the black leather jacket. “You were the one who wasn’t there.”
“I believe your father took care of that,” he says calmly. The reel hangs loosely by his side.
“You didn’t even try,” I say. “You didn’t show up at school. You weren’t anywhere. I was stuck with what you did.”
I want to cry now. I’ve never thought this through before. As angry as I had been at Denham, he was the best thing that had happened to me. And even though I never should have been with him in the first place, I had lost him and any help he would have given me with the baby. Maybe even finding the strength to keep her.
“You have no idea what my life became,” I say. “It was horrible.”
“Aww, Livia. Damn. I know. Mine was shit too. On the street. Trying not to starve. What was I going to do? Sixteen and your brother to boot. I had caused enough trouble for you.” He tosses the reel in the back of his truck. The sound of it landing in the metal bed rings down the quiet street.
“I had nobody. And I was stuck. At least you could escape.” I swipe my hands at the tears on my face.
“Come here.” Denham wraps his arms around me. “We can fix this. You and me. Get our daughter. We can work this. See our baby grow up.”
“She’s got a family,” I say. “She’s happy.”
“So you do know where she is,” he says. “I knew you were smart like that. Is she close? Could we go see her now?”
I turn back to Dreamcatcher. The officer is standing there, watching us.
“I can’t do that,” I say. “She has a family. I just can’t.”
I pull my arm from Denham and try to walk away, but he follows.
“Livia, we can do this together. I know we can. I got father’s rights. I’ll let you see her whenever you want. Your guy’s got money. Maybe he can get your rights back too. It’ll work. You just have to believe.”
I shake my head and walk faster. I won’t do that to Gwen. I won’t.
Denham grabs my arm again, and this time I forcibly shake him off. “Stop!” I say. “I won’t be a part of this!”
I don’t realize how close we are to the parking lot until Ted starts running down the steps. “Stay away from her!” he shouts.
This gets the officer in action. “You’re violating the protective order,” he roars at Denham.
Denham reaches for me again. “Livia, it’s not too late to fix this thing.” His hand closes on my arm.
I scream and whip myself away to get free.
Then everything is a blur as the officer and Ted both converge on Denham. I walk backwards, stumble, and catch myself as Ted tackles Denham. The officer turns Denham over and handcuffs him. He’s followed me into the protective zone. I’ve made things worse.
Everything is so much worse.
Chapter 22
I run back to the building. Suze is standing by the windows, her blond hair bright, her face etched with worry. “Are they arresting him?”
I can’t answer, gasping and trying to breathe, half crying. “Can you get Blitz?” I manage to ask.
“I gotta tell Danika what’s going on first,” she says, and takes off in the wrong direction, toward the office.
I turn and lean against the glass. Denham is on the ground, his cheek smashed against the sidewalk. Ted stands a few feet away. The police officer is talking into a headset. His hand is on Denham’s back.
He’s so screwed. On probation. Protective order. Violated. He’ll go back to jail. It’s my fault this happened. I led him right into the zone.
Danika rushes into the foyer, Suze on her heels. She sees me and stops. “Did he come in here? Are you hurt?”
I’m crying too hard to speak but shake my head no.
“Stay here,” she orders and takes off down the steps for the parking lot. Suze puts her arms around me. “It’ll be okay. You want me to get Blitz now?”
I nod.
She moves away.
But she’s only gone a moment when the lights blink. God. The class transition. Everyone will come out and see a handcuffed man on the ground. More students will drop out. The other wheelchair girls. They might cancel the class for good. Gabriella will never come back. I’ll never see her again.
I dash out the door. “Let him go!” I shout. “Please! The kids are coming! They can’t see this!”
When I get to the huddle of people, Danika turns to me. “He’s violated the protective order,” she says. “This isn’t a choice anymore.”
“I led him down the sidewalk,” I say, frantic now. “Please, don’t arrest him. Everyone is going to see!” I kneel down next to Denham as if I can shield the world from spotting him.
But it’s too late. Cars start pulling in, parents bringing the next round of dancers. Kids start filing out the doors, leaving their classes.
Some of the parents hesitate, holding on to their children and hanging back on the steps. One or two of the cars slow down to turn, then drive right on by when they see the man on the ground.
“That’s more emails,” Danika says. She looks down at Denham. “Are you trying to destroy my dance studio?”
�
��I just want my daughter,” Denham says, his cheek still pressed to the pavement. “That’s all I want.”
“Quiet,” the police officer orders. “I’m waiting on backup,” he says to Danika. “This was just supposed to be a serve.” He looks down at me. “I’d really prefer you stay away, Miss. I saw him harassing you.”
“He wasn’t…” I say, but trail off. There is no way to explain the complicated events that led to this moment.
“I’ll get in the car,” Denham says. “I won’t cause any trouble.”
“Boy, you have already caused a lot of trouble,” the officer says.
“He’ll do it,” I say quickly. “I know him. Just let him get in the car. Don’t scare everyone.”
“I’ll help,” Ted says.
The officer peers over at Ted. “And who are you?”
“My hired security,” Danika says.
“All right,” the officer says. He pulls Denham up by the handcuffs. “Into the car.”
Denham stands. The officer and Ted lead him over to the vehicle. When he’s safely inside and the door closed, my hands start to tremble. It’s too much. All of it. I wish I had never met him, never talked to him, never let him near me.
I wish he had told me he was my brother, and we’d just been friendly and graduated from the same school. Or even that he hated us all along and ran off with his parts-stealing friends.
The sidewalk bites into my knees. I want to get up and go back in the academy, but I don’t have the strength. The class yesterday. The stress today. I can’t handle it.
A breeze picks up the loose tendrils around my face, but I can’t even lift my arm to push them away. I just want to lie down and do nothing, think nothing, be nothing.
I know when Blitz comes out because I feel his arms around me. “Come on, Princess,” he says. “They’ve got the bad guy.”
I want to say that he isn’t the bad guy. That I am. That I led him to all of this. I pursued him when we were young. And I led him to this arrest. It’s me. All me. I’m the worst thing to happen to him.
When I don’t move, Blitz scoops me up and carries me back to the academy. We pass everybody, the wheelchair girls, Janel, Suze.
I keep thinking each day that this is the worst day, but it just keeps happening. Bad day after bad day. This nightmare won’t end.
Blitz carries me down the hall to the storage room. It’s our happy place, dimly lit from the light coming in the high windows, rays landing on costumes and sparkly hats. He sets me on a stack of mats.
“Talk to me, Princess,” he says.
“He knows I know where Gabriella is,” I say, gulping air.
“That’s okay,” Blitz says, smoothing loose hair back from my forehead. “That’s different from knowing where she is.”
“But I can’t even see her anymore. Gwen removed her from the academy.” More fat tears roll down my face.
Blitz lets out a gush of air. “That’s tough. Do you know where they live?”
“Yes, but I can’t exactly show up there.” I throw up my hands. “Hello, Gwen, we stalked you all the way to your house to force your daughter to do a dance lesson!” My voice is shrill. I feel on the verge of hysteria.
“We can handle it delicately. We can say that we agree that the academy isn’t safe and we have a new location.” His voice is calm, but this only upsets me more.
“Do you know how crazy that sounds?” I cry. “I just have to accept that I’ve screwed up. As soon as I went on your show, I put everything at risk.”
Blitz holds my head, his palms on both my cheeks. He bends down until he’s looking right in my eyes. “No, Livia. When you went on my show, you saved everything. You saved us. You saved me. And we’re going to make this work.”
“He’ll tell everybody,” I say. “Gwen will find out. God. It’s over.”
Blitz drags me against him and holds me tight. “Not if he’s on our side,” he says.
I hold my breath for a moment. I couldn’t have heard him right. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s go bail him out of jail. Get him a lawyer. Clean him up. Let’s help him, and work out a deal we can all live with. You. Him. Gwen. She had to know this day might come. They didn’t have a signature for a father. Did you ever look to see who your dad wrote down on the birth certificate?”
“I did.” I force out a laugh. “Engelbert Humperdinck.”
“The singer?”
“Yeah. Dad was always fascinated with his name.”
“Well, that should have been a red flag for the adoption agency,” Blitz says. “For Gwen. They ignored it. They’ll know they did.”
“They let it go, I guess. I don’t know what Dad told them. We’d have to ask him.”
“This is great, actually. The sort of thing a lawyer can build a case on.” Blitz lifts me up and sets me back on the ground. “Let’s call Jeff and have him refer somebody local to help us out. Then we can go bail out your baby daddy.”
I follow him back to Studio 3 to change out of my ballet slippers. I don’t know if helping Denham is the right thing. But it’s a plan. It’s something.
Chapter 23
By mid-afternoon, Blitz has secured a lawyer to meet us at the city jail to bail out Denham. His bond was set by the judge right after lunch, so it’s just a matter of heading there to pay it and get him out.
We take the gray car to the courthouse. The lawyer said we won’t be allowed back to see Denham, but he assured us that he’ll meet with him and make the necessary arrangements.
“Are we liable for what happens to him if he does something once he’s out?” I ask Blitz as we wait on a stiff row of chairs in a waiting area.
“I don’t know. I’ve never bailed anyone out before,” Blitz says. He holds my hand in both of his.
I smooth my simple black skirt and soft sweater. I’ve tied my hair back, trying to look as plain as possible. Blitz wears his sunglasses so he won’t be spotted at a courthouse, casual in jeans and a sweater.
The room is large and filled with anxious people. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person in the room without a tattoo. One very tattooed grandmother watching a passel of small children talks with exasperation into a cell phone until an officer asks her to put it away or step outside. She tosses him an angry look, but shoves it in her bag.
A girl keeps staring at Blitz. I keep an eye on her, worried she has recognized him, but she is careful not to meet my gaze.
A man in a sharp navy suit comes out of a door and looks around. He spots me and Blitz and approaches. “Benjamin,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’m Jeremy Trudeau. Let’s go back to a private room to discuss the situation.”
We stand up right as the officer barks “No cell phones” again. The room jumps. Must be the grandmother. I sympathize with her, probably having to wait on one of the parents of all those children.
We follow Jeremy through the door, held open by a uniformed officer. We go down a quiet hall and turn into a small stark room with only a table and a few plastic chairs.
Jeremy sits on one side, and Blitz and I settle in across from him.
“I had a conversation with Denham Young, and he says he doesn’t want your help unless you’re going to tell him the location of his daughter,” Jeremy says. “We put together a provisional agreement.” He pulls a sheet of paper out of a briefcase. It’s covered with handwritten notes in tiny print. Denham’s signature is at the bottom.
“That’s all he wants? Her location?” Blitz asks.
“Yes. I came up with some demands for your side of the agreement given your concerns for the adoptive mother.”
I sit forward on the chair. “What are they?”
“To approach the adoptive mother prior to requesting visitation with the child. To handle it privately, rather than involving social services. And to allow the birth mother equal access to the child.”
Blitz nods. “What did he say?”
“He was okay with all that.”
“Is he okay?”
I ask. “How did he seem?”
Jeremy sits back in his chair. “Edgy. Anxious.”
“Not angry?” I ask.
Jeremy shakes his head. “I didn’t get that from him. He did ask about his truck. Seems everything he owns is in it.”
“Did you tell him we’d take care of it?” Blitz asks.
“I did,” Jeremy says. “He’ll get his keys back from Admitting when he’s freed.”
“Will he just walk out?” I ask.
“Yes and no,” Jeremy says. “We have to speak to his probation officer. And we’ll need to have a place for him to stay. He’ll also have to jump through some hoops about looking for employment here in town. Normal aspects of his probation, but particularly critical now that he’s been in trouble again.”
“It was my fault,” I say. “I led him right into the protection zone.”
“We explained that to the judge,” Jeremy says. “I was here when the bond was set.”
“So what’s next?” Blitz asks.
“Either my office or yours can get him a residence,” Jeremy says. “Someplace semipermanent so he can receive correspondence. We’ll pay the bail, and he’ll sign an agreement with me that I represent him.”
“Sounds good. Do we sign this thing?” Blitz asks, pointing to the paper.
“We’ll keep it informal as long as possible,” Jeremy says. “You sure you want to take this on? You can walk away. With the probation and his priors, he’ll get another six months, easy.”
Blitz glances at me. “No, we have the bigger issue to settle. The child.”
Jeremy nods. “I’m not a family lawyer,” he says, putting the paper back in his briefcase. “But I’ll get him in a position where you can move on that.” He snaps the case closed. “But I’ll tell you, if he does anything else, I’d drop him like a hot potato. You don’t need that publicity on your head.”
Blitz nods. “Understood. You going to go get him now?”
“You want to transport him?”
“No,” I say. “Just let us know where he’ll be staying. We’ll meet up with him there.”