Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MOJAVE
I knew when the asshole showed up that he wasn’t going to leave willingly. No one that pissed off would just walk away. Knowing a fight was coming, I told Killian to watch over Frankie and record everything. We’d need it and I hadn’t gotten around to mentioning cameras for Rachel’s house yet.
Instincts screamed at me to knock the man out, eliminate the threat, keep the girls safe, but I held myself back, reminding myself repeatedly that Frankie was watching and I didn’t want to scare the hell out of her.
I’d been trained to handle threats. Not all of that training was okay to do in front of a little kid.
“Rachel?” I asked when he wriggled and cried out again.
The idiot seriously didn’t seem to understand that if he stopped moving, the pain would stop.
I wasn’t putting extra pressure there. I just had him in a hold that made each movement he made incredibly painful.
If he stopped moving, the pain would stop.
“Five minutes out,” she answered, still on the phone with the 911 operator.
I was proud of her for not putting up with the asshole’s bullshit for even a second.
Last time I’d been around for a confrontation with her ex, she tried to talk him down.
This time she acted fast because Frankie was present.
More proof that she was damn good at her job. Kids always came first.
I never took my eyes off Scott, I didn’t trust him not to figure out some way to slip free and attack and I wasn’t having Killian abandon where he was protecting Frankie to come search him. I didn’t trust the asshole not to have something hiding that I hadn’t noticed yet.
Sirens preceded not one, but two cop cars pulling up in front of Rachel’s house. I braced myself from the backlash, if any of the backup were on Scott’s side, this might not end well for me, but when the first pig jumped out of the car, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Officer Hernandez was one of the few cops on the force who didn’t hate us on sight.
She’d always been fair dealing with my crew and waited for an explanation before arresting anyone.
She pulled out her taser, but it was pointed at the asshole on the ground, not me, when she demanded, “Release him and step back!”
I did as asked, releasing my hold on the asshole ex and taking a few steps back. I kept my hands out of my pockets since I was unfamiliar with the second pig, who also had his taser out but pointed at the ground, and didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.
When I heard Killian curse and saw him lunge out of the corner of my eye, adrenaline shot through me like a bolt of lightning.
Whether she thought it was safe because the pigs arrived or she’d gotten scared of the tasers that looked a hell of a lot like guns pointed in our direction, Frankie darted out of her hiding place and ran straight toward me.
It wasn’t safe yet, though, and the asshole ex had just shoved to his feet, slipping out of Hernandez’s hold and coming straight for me.
It came down to protecting Frankie or protecting myself.
It was an easy choice. I wrapped my arms around the little girl when she collided against my middle, covering her with my body and turning to put myself between her and Scott so he couldn’t get near her.
I took a punch to the back of the head leaving myself open like that, and I couldn’t block the next one that came for my face without putting Frankie at risk.
It connected, but just barely before the pigs finally grabbed the asshole and ripped him away.
“You can’t do this! He attacked me!”
“Shut up, Scott,” Hernandez snapped as she wrestled him back to the ground and yanked his arms behind his back. “You attacked him. I told you to put your hands up. Don’t make this worse for yourself.”
The new cop had to step in at one point and help her because Scott wasn’t going along peacefully.
He snarled and snapped, called Hernandez every name under the sun, including traitor several times, and tried to warn the new cop that she’d only drag him down.
Eventually though, he was removed and put in the back of Hernandez’s car.
Cold swept through my body at the realization of what could’ve happened if I hadn’t acted fast enough. Frankie could’ve been hurt. She was only seven. She couldn’t take a hit like I could.
My chest tightened at the thought, making it hard to breathe. I stared blindly at the grass, my muscles tightening to hide the tremor that was attempting to take over. I couldn’t lose it now. I couldn’t. I had to protect her.
Muffled voices spoke near me, but I couldn’t hear what they said.
I couldn't hear much at all outside of Frankie’s sobs and the static in my ears.
I curled tighter around the terrified little girl, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin as I struggled to breathe.
How the fuck was I supposed to protect her when I couldn’t breathe?
A hand landed on my shoulder, making me flinch and jerk away, but Killian didn’t pull back. He tightened his grip, leaning until he was right next to my face, speaking in my ear loud enough for me to hear him.
“Let go, man. Rachel’s got her. You need a minute.”
I needed to let go. I didn't want to scare Frankie more by losing it in front of her, but I couldn’t make my muscles loosen. It wasn’t safe.
“He’s gone, man. Cuffed and in the car. She’s safe. Let go.”
He had to help me physically release Frankie.
She didn’t want to go, which only made it harder, and Rachel had to pull her away and pick her up to get her to stop fighting to get back to me.
Seeing her like that, reaching for me, only made me want to take her back, but Killian was right.
I needed a damn minute to pull myself together before she noticed something was wrong.
Right now, she was scared. I didn’t want to scare her more.
Steering me forcefully away, Killian took me into the backyard, keeping a hand on my shoulder as I sank into a squat and gripped my hair tightly, sucking in air through gritted teeth.
“That’s it,” he coached. “Deep breaths. In for four. And out. Again. Breathe, Mojave.”
I barely heard him over the ringing in my ears, and following his directions was physically painful. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. But Killian never let go of my shoulder, his grip bordering on painful grounding me to reality.
Sounds didn’t come back gradually. It hit me all at once, each new sound like a physical blow just as painful as the one to the back of my head.
The scream of the sirens, the crunch of wheels on pavement as the paramedics wheeled over a stretcher, the scratching of the radios as the officers reported what was happening.
It was too damn much. And above it all, I could still hear Frankie crying, the sound like a knife to my chest making it that much harder to suck in a breath.
“Kee–” I croaked. I had to get the hell out of here. I couldn’t think.
Killian knew me well enough to know what I wanted. He outright refused. “No way am I letting you go for a ride right now, man. That’s not safe. Let’s go inside.”
I had no choice but to follow him. I needed to get away from all the noise and I trusted him to get me out.
He put an arm around my shoulders, almost forcing me to move when my body wouldn’t cooperate, and guided me inside.
He sat me on the couch and walked away long enough to close the curtains and block out as much light as he could.
When he came back, he squatted in front of me, his hand back on my shoulder, and just waited.
He didn't rush me, didn’t demand for me to pull it together. He just stayed put.
It helped, but not much. I couldn’t pull out of it on my own. I felt numb and ready to bolt at the same time. I just needed to get myself together enough to be able to drive. After that, I’d–
The back door flew open, making me flinch and my muscles locked up again. I braced myself for the worst, but the person who joined us wasn’t who I expected.
“Frankie! Don’t–” Rachel called.
Frankie didn’t listen, launching herself at me and almost knocking me backward on the couch from the force.
The warmth of her hit me like a shockwave, her little body shaking with big sobs.
My arms went around her before Killian could pull her away, hugging her against me again, but this time, I didn’t freeze. I broke.
Seeing her safe, unharmed, shredded my last bit of control.
I started shaking uncontrollably, my chest tightening almost enough to make it impossible to breathe.
It only eased when a sob escaped me. I held her against me, my hand on the back of her head, keeping her safe, and just fucking cried.
For the first time in years, I let the tears fall.
“Frankie–” Rachel began uneasily.
“Don’t,” Killian interrupted her, his voice low and calm. “They need this. It’s okay.” He made a shushing sound, his hand moving to pat Frankie’s arm around my neck. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mojave’s okay. He just needed a minute. He’s okay.”
I didn’t feel okay. Seeing Frankie throw herself at me, knowing she was in the line of danger, it felt like my soul left my body and I could only watch in horror as it happened.
Now, knowing she was okay, I still couldn’t get the image out of my head.
If she would’ve gotten hurt, it would’ve been my fucking fault for not protecting her better. It was my job to protect her.
Fuck, I couldn’t keep doing this. I was only making things worse. I forced myself to lift my head, the words feeling like shards of glass through the tightness of my throat when I said, “Call Perry.”
“Already texted him,” Killian reassured me. “He’s on his way.”
Calling my therapist to Rachel’s place would probably put me in a bad light, but it was either that or continuing to fucking spiral until my brain got too exhausted to keep going. And since my head was already screaming from the sucker punch, I didn’t want to wait that long.
Either Perry was close by or he tore through speed limits like a demon because it didn’t take long for him to show up. Killian let him in, giving up his space and stepping outside, and Rachel followed him back out.
“Mojave,” Perry murmured. “They said you were protecting the girl. Focus on her for a minute. She’s breathing, right?”
I forced myself to nod, doing my best to pay attention to Frankie’s hiccuping breaths.
“That’s good. You did your job right, then. Was she hurt?”
I didn’t know the answer to that, and I was a little afraid to ask. I tensed a little and Perry noticed because he asked the question to Frankie instead.
“Hey sweetie. Mojave needs to know you’re okay. Were you hurt?”
“Uh-uh,” Frankie replied in a warbled voice. “Mojave was hurt, though. That man hit him.”
“That must’ve been scary,” he said, keeping his tone low and soothing like he always did when he was grounding one of the guys having a rough go of it during sessions.
He wasn’t just grounding me. He was grounding Frankie too.
“He’s breathing, though, right? Can you match your breaths with his?
In for four. Out for four. Nice and slow. Look, he’s getting better already.”
It was a lie, but some of the tightness in my chest did ease. I had to breathe to get Frankie to calm down. I could focus on her.