Chapter 2 - DEREK OPENED THE DOOR
“Where?”
“Downstairs.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
Traffic barely moved.
“Just get to him.”
“I know.”
Derek kept the call connected.
I heard his footsteps.
Then his voice.
“Noah?”
Silence.
Again.
“Buddy? It’s Uncle Derek.”
A tiny cry came through the phone.
“Uncle Derek?”
I almost stopped breathing.
Derek followed the sound.
“Where are you?”
“Bathroom.”
Then another voice.
Travis.
“You need to leave.”
Derek’s breathing changed.
Still controlled.
“Where’s Noah?”
“He fell.”
My hands tightened.
“He called his father.”
Travis swore.
“This is none of your business.”
“My nephew made it my business.”
I heard movement.
Then Derek said:
“Michael, Noah’s locked in the downstairs bathroom.”
“Is he safe?”
“I don’t know.”
Derek moved toward the door.
“Noah, can you unlock it?”
“I’m scared.”
“It’s me.”
A pause.
Then a click.
The door opened.
Derek stopped speaking for several seconds.
Those seconds nearly destroyed me.
“Derek?”
“I have him.”
My entire body sagged against the seat.
“How bad?”
“His arm’s swelling.”
Then Derek’s voice hardened.
“There’s bruising.”
“Police are coming.”
“I know.”
Noah cried:
“Daddy?”
“I’m here!”
Derek put me on speaker.
“Dad!”
“I’m coming, buddy.”
“Don’t hang up.”
“I won’t.”
Then Travis started yelling.
“He’s lying! The kid fell!”
Derek told Noah:
“Behind me, buddy.”
The dispatcher had warned us not to engage.
Derek remembered.
He backed toward the front door with Noah.
Then I heard Travis say:
“You’re not taking him anywhere.”
A hard metallic sound followed.
Derek swore.
“What happened?”
“He picked up the bat.”
Every part of me wanted my brother to break him in half.
But another part knew exactly what mattered.
“Derek.”
“I know.”
“Get Noah outside.”
“I’m trying.”
Travis moved toward them.
Derek spoke once.
“Put the bat down.”
“Get out of my house.”
“It’s not your house.”
Then Noah screamed.
What followed happened quickly.
A crash.
Something hitting the floor.
Derek grunting.
Then silence.
“Derek!”
“I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
“He swung.”
My blood went cold.
“And?”
“I stopped him.”
“How?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Sirens became audible through his phone.
Derek’s breathing remained steady.
“He’s on the floor. I’m not hitting him.”
That sentence mattered later.
Very much.
Police entered seconds afterward.
And when I finally reached the house, I saw my brother sitting on the front steps.
Noah was wrapped in his jacket.
Travis was in handcuffs.
My son saw me.
“Daddy!”
May you like
I ran toward him.
And then I saw his arm.
