“STOP!” I scream the word in his ear and he finally drops Boucher, stepping away from the huddled mass.
Two squad cars come to a screeching halt in front of us, and an officer opens the door, aiming a gun at Luc’s chest.
* * *
The headlines flash like hot brands in my brain.
Savage cop beating at mall parking lot.
Video of police brutality goes viral.
My eyes burn at the computer screen from reading without blinking for so long. I watch the video again because I have nothing else to do. My stomach turns as the much larger Frank savagely attacks the teenager, who drops like a bag of rocks under a single blow. I scroll down, reading the comments.
Fuck the police.
I’ve always had a blue light on for the police, but this is sickening.
HELP HIM! What the fuck? He is being beaten for no reason. We are a nation of SHEEP being ravaged by wolves, and we sit back and watch. WAKE UP!
Montreal needs to fire half their police force.
I click away from the video, a smile breaking my face for the first time in days.
RCMP officer suspended without pay.
It would be perfect if they weren’t trying to charge Luc with attempted murder.
Ten-year mandatory sentence.
Ten years.
But the video blew open a wide ring of corruption in the police department, repeated complaints against Officer Boucher, ignored. He was discharged from the hospital yesterday.
And I’m a fucking mess.
I haven’t slept in days. I’m just waiting for a phone call from Luc to tell me he’s coming home. Sometimes I think I hear the phone ringing, and the screen is black.
Losing my goddamn mind.
I pick up my keys, desperate to get out of the house and do something, and then a tiny jingle freezes my limbs.
Am I hearing things again?
My phone vibrates on the kitchen counter. I see it jumping.
I nearly crash into the chairs as I grab the phone and answer it, my voice shaking.
“H-hello?”
“It’s me.”
Luc.
“Please tell me you’re getting out.”
“I am. I’ll be home in a few minutes. Johnny just posted my bail.”
Thank fucking God.
I clasp my palm around the receiver so that he can’t hear my sob of relief.
“Great.”
“I’ll be home soon. Love you.”
“Love you, too!”
Yes!
I hang up the phone, punching the air in jubilation. A high knock at the door makes my heart leap.
He’s here? Already?
I can’t wait to throw open the door and feel his arms wrapped around me.
“You got here—”
The door swings inward.
Pale eyes.
“Ma!”
Frank holds my baby in his burly arms. My scream lifts to the sky as I lunge at him, but he takes a giant step back. He looks half-dead, his injuries barely healed. The side of his face where Luc smashed his head through the windshield is swollen.
“Give me my baby!”
“Jennifer, you’re coming with me.”
Who the fuck is Jennifer?
The door bangs inside the house. “Please, give me my baby!”
“Get in the car.”
Terror saps the energy from my limbs as his gravelly voice barks out commands. Étienne gurgles in Frank’s arms and the sound is like a dagger to my heart.
“Give me him!” I scream. “Give him back!”
Frank moves his jacket, showing me the gun strapped at his waist.
“Get in the car first.”
I stare at the parked sedan, distracted by the bulge in my pocket. Phone!
I walk slowly to the car, tears streaming down my face as I hit the silent switch on my phone. Frank watches as I climb in the car, and then I hold the phone to the floor of the car as I call Luc.
Please, God. Let this work.
I shove the phone in my jacket before I can see if it worked. Luc will be able to hear us, but I won’t be able to hear him. Frank walks around the car, glaring at me as he opens the back door and tucks Étienne securely in the car seat.
Start talking.
“Frank, where are you taking us?”
“You’ll see.”
The chill rising from his voice makes my heart slam against my chest. He slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car, and then he pulls away from the curb.
I look at him desperately. “Frank, you don’t have to do this.”
“Oh, yes, I do. It’s clear to me that I care more about this kid than you do.”
“What do you want?”
“What I want doesn’t matter anymore. I’m doing what needs to be done.”
Adrenaline courses through my veins so that it’s painful to stay still. I look outside the window, trying to guess where the hell we’re going.
“I’ll give you anything, just please, don’t hurt my son.”
His eyes cut at me. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m some kind of maniac.”