Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“You should probably get a lawyer…”
I’m already barging through the diner, headed to the back hallway and rear exit when my father sees me.
“What’s wrong?” His decades of law enforcement instinct are still sharp.
“It’s Kezia.” I look around the table, her seat still empty.
“She hasn’t come back yet,” my mother says, her eyes searching the crowd.
“Something’s wrong. Go out front, around the sides of the building…I’m going out the back…”
Out of my peripheral vision, I see my friends and family racing for the front door, no questions asked.
My stomach knots, bile stings the back of my tongue as alternatives tumble in my mind. Either I’ve been set up or, fuck, I’m a child predator…if it’s true, my life is over and I’ll never forgive myself.
I barge through the back hallway, the little red dot on the tracker moving just outside the rear of the building, so I don’t bother checking the ladies’ room before I slam through the rear door and scan.
There’s a black, older model van parked on the street and I hear a door slam shut and the engine start. I’m bolting in that direction, my hand on my gun as I move around to the side of the van, just as the side doors are sliding shut.
It’s Kezia’s ‘father’.
“She’s my daughter. I’m taking her back. You will be in prison for a very, very long time, Sheriff.”
I aim at his head, my finger twitching to tug at the trigger, but he’s secondary right now. My head is spinning, but I need Kezia out of that vehicle. No matter what happens, she’s not going back with him. The vehicle is started which means someone else is in the driver’s seat and they could take off at any moment.
“Move to the front of the vehicle and put your hands on the hood,” I order as my mother, father and Margaret come down the sidewalk, then Summer comes running, breathless, from the back parking lot.
“Do as he says.” My father pulls his gun as well, backing me up like he always does.
“You’re only digging your grave deeper.” Her father smiles, raising his hands and placing them on the hood of the running van as I look behind the wheel and see one of the other men from the troupe.
“You.” I point my pistol though the windshield and it holds his hands up. “Turn off the vehicle, put the keys on the dash and exit the van, hands on the hood next to your partner here.” I look at my dad. “Cover him.”
He nods as I shift to the side doors, keeping my pistol aimed as I push the button on the handle and ease the door open.
The back is empty except for Kezia, a red handprint on her cheek but her eyes are defiant and there are no tears.
“You okay, baby?”
“I am now,” she answers, scooting across the bare metal floor of the van interior and stepping out beside me. “I tried to get away, but with two of them I couldn’t.”
“It’s okay. You did your best.”
I pull her behind me, the turmoil raging inside me that her age is in question. But right now, her safety is paramount. I’ll deal with my own problems later.
“You have violated my daughter, kidnapping and more, I’m sure. Your life and career are in ruins and you cannot take her from me.”
“You’re full of shit,” my father interjects.
“Her birth certificate is in my back pocket. See for yourself.”
I nod toward my father, giving him the go ahead to retrieve the piece of paper on which my career, life and reputation hang. What’s printed on there will be entered into evidence. I’ll have to stand in court while they read it out.
My father slips out an aged, white folded paper, my mother, Margaret and Summer all gathering around him while I keep my gun on the two men and Kezia moves next to the group, taking the paper from my father.
“I’ve never seen this,” she says. “No one ever told me where exactly I was born, or my birthday… And anyway, I’ve counted sixteen summers, I’m positive. How can I remember sixteen summers if I’m only sixteen years old?”
“Exactly,” her father says with a laugh. “Sixteen summers. Sixteen years old.”
“No way. I didn’t start counting before I was one!”
“Look at you?” Her father sneers. “You’re a mutant, but I was going to get top dollar for you, Marco was prepared to pay, but only after he confirmed you were still intact.” Intact. He says it like she’s an animal. “But you’ve ruined yourself. You’re soiled now, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”
My father shoves the barrel of his gun right up against Thadius’s nose and he falls silent, shrinking back, as Margaret moves closer, pulling the paper to one side, leaning down while her other hand covers her lips.