Page 143 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
What does escalating mean?
“Five minutes.”
Please let him be okay.
Officer Roberts strides back to my window. “Today is your lucky day. Try to keep it below seventy.”
I watch the beam from his flashlight as he jogs back to his car. The siren joins the lights as he pulls away from the shoulder and screams down the asphalt.
Grant.
My hands tremble on the wheel as I turn down Serenity Court where blue and red lights explode in their dizzying array of patterns. They flash over the houses and cars and people gathered to watch the activity at the end of the street.
It’s been nine minutes.
Nine minutes where I don’t even remember purposefully taking the turns to get here.
Nine minutes where I mentally ran through every scenario possible and none of them were good. In every single one, Grant was hurt, and all I could think of was that I’d been stubborn and hadn’t spoken to him. I hadn’t made things right.
I haven’t told him I want to take a chance.
Funny thing is that I didn’t even admit that to myself until just now.
Tears blur my eyes as the realization hits me that this is his reality. His every day. His way to be a hero. I’m out of the car and running to where the crowd of looky-loos stands. My heart is in my throat and hope is in my hands.
“C’mon, Malone. We have to let CPS deal with this.”
“CPS? Really, Nate?” Grant’s laugh echoes off the houses just as I break through to the front of the crowd. I’m not sure what I expect to see—a standoff, weapons drawn? I don’t know, but this isn’t it. Grant is standing in front of his cruiser, arms crossed and body taut, as Nate, the officer who was with him on the Fourth, and another face him. The tension between them is so palpable that if I didn’t know better, I’d think Grant was holding someone hostage. Murmurs roll through the crowd about the little girl in the car, and there are questions about whether Grant is going to do it, whatever “it” is.
“CPS?” he says again, punctuating his incredulity with a shake of his head. My breath catches when I realize he actually is holding someone hostage in a sense. But only to protect her. To help Keely. “CPS’s response was to put her back in the house so they could come and assess the situation at a later date because there is no immediate threat. Tell me that’s not a fucking joke.”
Nate rolls his shoulder, frustration evident. “I know, Grant, but there is nothing we can do. Without proof or her saying he did it—”
“Proof? You want proof?” Grant shouts. “Look at her cheek and lip. That’s all the proof I need.”
“It’s her words we need to hear. We can’t take her. We can’t arrest him. We technically can’t even be here since there wasn’t even a call we were responding to! Nothing we charge him with will stick.”
“I don’t fucking care. When I leave here, she’s either coming with me or she’s going with someone from CPS. She is not going back in that house.”
There is a determination in Grant’s stance that matches the tone in his voice. The little girl in me roots for him. The grown woman in me can’t tear her eyes away from him.
“You’re too
close, Malone.”
“Did you see her face, Nate? That’s not from the stairs. That’s not from a fall. She’s terrified. Of course she isn’t going to rat her dad out. He’s her dad!” He rakes his hand through his hair. “She still loves him regardless of how big a piece of shit he is. Then there’s her mom, who sits by and lets it all happen. She’s five. Five. Someone has to stand up for her, and fuck if I’m not going to be the one to do it.”
“C’mon, man,” the other officer says as she takes a step forward. “All you’re doing is making a tense situation worse. We can stand out here all night long, but in the end, we’re going to end up with the same result. Her back with her parents. Parental privilege.”
“Just unlock the doors so we can get her out,” Nate says, reaching out for Grant’s arm, but he yanks it away.
“Don’t touch me.” The two men face off, inches apart, duty versus morality.
“Grant, think about what you’re doing here,” the other officer says to try to cool the tension.
“I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m protecting and serving. I’m upholding my oath. I think you’re the ones who need to ask yourselves the same question.” Grant looks back to the car and shakes his head in disbelief. “Let me just take her to the police station. I’ll sit with her all night until CPS can fit her in their schedule tomorrow. Anything. It’s better than her being here.” There’s a desperation in his voice that brings tears to my eyes.
The man who blames himself for not saving me is trying to save her.
