Chapter 1 - “DAD, PLEASE COME HOME”
My four-year-old son called me at work crying.
“Dad… Mom’s boyfriend hit me with a baseball bat.”
I was twenty minutes away.
So I called the only person who could get there faster.
My phone had buzzed twice against the conference-room table before I finally answered.
“Hey, buddy. You okay?”
For a second, all I heard was Noah breathing.
Broken.
Wet.
Scared.
Then:
“Dad… please come home.”
I pushed my chair back.
“Where’s Mom?”
“She’s not here.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who’s with you?”
“Travis.”
Lena and I had separated eight months earlier. I had temporarily moved into an apartment downtown while she and Noah stayed in the house so our son wouldn’t have to change schools, bedrooms and routines during the divorce.
Travis was Lena’s new boyfriend.
I disliked him.
But until that afternoon, I had no proof he was dangerous.
“What happened?”
Noah started crying harder.
“Travis hit me with the baseball bat. My arm hurts really bad.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“He said if I cry, he’ll hit me again.”
Then a man’s voice exploded through the phone.
“Who are you talking to? Give me that!”
The call ended.
Everyone in the conference room stared at me.
“My son has been attacked,” I said.
“I’m leaving.”
It was 2:14 p.m.
Downtown traffic.
Twenty minutes minimum.
Noah was four.
And the man who had just threatened him was still inside my house.
My hands shook as I called my older brother Derek.
He answered immediately.
“Hey.”
“Noah called me. Travis hit him with a bat. I’m twenty minutes away. Where are you?”
Silence.
Then Derek’s voice changed.
“I’m fifteen minutes from the house.”
“Go now. I’m calling 911.”
“I’m already moving.”
Derek had competed in mixed martial arts years earlier.
But that wasn’t why I trusted him.
He knew the difference between being angry and losing control.
I gave the dispatcher every detail.
Then Derek called again.
“I’m two blocks away.”
“Stay on the line.”
His truck stopped.
A door slammed.
Footsteps crossed the driveway.
Then I heard the front door open.
And Derek whispered:
“Michael…”
May you like
“What?”
“I can hear Noah crying.”
