15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

IZEL

September 14, 2014, 11:18:09 PM.

I’m still sitting in the waiting room, and my body is shivering, partly from the cold and partly from god-knows-what else – maybe fear, maybe gratitude, or just a mixture of it all. The lady officer hands me a set of clothes.

She’s got a kind smile, and her eyes show a level of understanding that surprises me. I take the clothes, and my fingers tremble slightly as I clutch them close. I’m grateful for the gesture, even though I’m not used to accepting help from anyone.

I start to change into the clothes, and I reflect back to how I got here. Running through the dark streets, barefoot and with dirty clothes, was like a nightmare in itself. But I pushed through it. I had to, to get here.

I’d sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me, driven by the hope that officers like these would help me, that they were the good guys.

I haven’t seen much television in my life. But one thing I know for sure is that officers are supposed to be the people who help others, who keep them safe.

As I huddle in the waiting room, one officer approaches me with a steaming cup. It’s brown and warm, and I’ve never tasted anything like it before. The scent alone makes me want to cry. I take a hesitant sip, and it’s like a damn explosion of warmth and flavor in my mouth. It’s a simple act of kindness that brings tears to my eyes.

I’m still sipping on that brown liquid, finding some solace in its warmth. But then, I overhear the officers talking, and it’s like a punch in the gut.

“So, she’s the granddaughter of the Montclairs?” one of them says with a hint of surprise.

“Yeah, that’s what the old man said,” another one replies, shaking his head.

“Montclairs? You mean the rich folks up on the hill?” he muses.

“Yep, that’s them. It’s a real mess, this whole situation.”

I can feel the blood draining from my face. The Montclairs, my so-called family, have always been a dark cloud hanging over me. And now, the officers are discussing what to do with me. Being associated with them isn’t something to brag about. It’s a curse I’ve carried my whole life.

“So, what’s the plan? Send her back up there?”

“Montclair’s been in touch, says he wants her back. It’s his blood, after all.”

“Yeah, and Montclair mentioned something about her mother, too. Ran away at seventeen, just like her.”

These officers, who I’d hoped might be different, are just like everyone else. They’re making decisions about my life without knowing a damn thing about me.

I take another bitter sip of that brown liquid, and it’s no longer a source of comfort. It’s a bitter reminder of the world I’m trapped in, a world where people judge and condemn me without understanding a thing about what I’ve been through.

I take one last sip of the now lukewarm brown liquid and then quickly set the cup down. My heart is pounding in my chest as I make my move. I can’t let them catch me.

I slowly rise from my seat, trying not to attract any attention. The room is buzzing with officers, and it’s the perfect chaos to slip through the cracks.

The moment I reach the door, I take a deep breath and push it open. The cold air outside hits me like a slap in the face, but I can’t stop. I bolt down the hallway, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Behind me, I hear the commotion start. One of the officers shouts, “Hey, stop!” The clattering of boots and the urgent wail of sirens fill the air, and I know I’m in deep shit.

But I can’t stop. I can’t turn back now. It’s a desperate race against time. The adrenaline surges through my veins, and my legs carry me as fast as they can.

I make a quick turn down a narrow stairwell, hoping to throw them off my trail. But I can still hear their voices, calling out to me. “Isla, wait!”

Wait? Yeah, right. I’m not stopping for anyone. I’ve been on the run for so long, and I’m not about to let them catch me now. The staircase seems to go on forever, and my lungs are burning, but I don’t dare slow down.

Finally, I reach the ground floor, and I burst through a side door, back out into the cold. The world blurs around me as I run. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t stop.

The sirens are getting louder but I won’t give up. I’ll keep running, keep fighting, because this is my life, and I’ll be damned if they take it from me.

A small voice pierces through my panic, snapping me back to reality. I glance around and see a little girl, no older than eight, clinging to Richard. He’s holding her in his arms, and for a moment, I’m forgotten.

I can’t say that I’m upset about it. The little girl’s fearful expression triggers a strong sense of empathy in me. I’ve been through my share of horrors, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone a child.

I watch as Richard walks further into the lobby with the little girl, and it’s like he’s a different person. His usual stern demeanor softens as he tries to engage her in a conversation. It’s a stark contrast to the man I’ve come to know, and it’s strangely endearing.

“Hey there,” he says, crouching down to the little girl’s level. “I’m Richard. What’s your name?”

The little girl looks up at him with wide, fearful eyes. “I’m Austin,” she whispers.

“Nice to meet you, Austin. Are you lost?”

Austin nods, tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t find my mom, and it’s so scary here.”

“You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help you.”

It’s a strange sight, seeing the tough, hard-edged FBI agent being so kind and patient with this little girl.

“Can you tell me what happened? How did you get separated from your parents?”

Austin’s eyes well up with tears as she clings to Richard. “We were at the fair, and there were so many people. I was holding my mommy’s hand, but then I saw this big balloon and I wanted to look at it. When I turned around, Mommy and Daddy were gone. I got scared and started crying.”

Richard nods. “It must have been really scary for you. But you’re safe now. We’ll find your parents, I promise.”

Just then, a man enters the room, claiming to be her father. “Austin! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Richard’s expression hardens as he assesses the man. Something feels off. Before he can respond, I step forward, my instincts on high alert.

“Who are you?” I ask sharply.

The man looks taken aback but quickly composes himself. “I’m her father. We got separated in the crowd. I’ve been frantic trying to find her.”

Austin’s grip on Richard tightens, and she buries her face in his shoulder.

“You’re her father?”

The man, clearly taken aback by my directness, stammers, “Yes, yes, I am. I’ve been looking for her.”

My skepticism only grows. I’ve seen enough deception in my life to recognize it when I see it. “Really? How did you lose her in the first place?”

The man’s eyes dart around nervously. “We were at the park, and she ran off. I’ve been searching everywhere.”

“You expect us to believe that? What’s your daughter’s favorite color? Her favorite toy? Tell me something that proves you’re her father.”

The man stumbles over his words, unable to provide a coherent answer. It’s clear that he’s not who he claims to be. Austin clings even tighter to Richard.

The man stumbles, his face flushing. “Uh, her favorite color is... pink? And she likes dolls.”

I narrow my eyes. “That’s generic. Anyone could guess that. You’re a liar. You’re not her father, and you’re not taking her anywhere.”

Mr. Shady’s demeanor changes, and his face contorts with anger. “Who are you to say that? I need to see your superior. Now!”

I can feel his hot, nasty breath on my face as he invades my personal space. But I give absolutely zero fucks. He might be bigger, but I’ve got a backbone of steel, and I’m not about to let some scumbag push me around.

And just when I start to wonder if this situation will turn into a full-blown brawl, Richard steps in. His voice, in that fake authoritative cop tone, rings out, “Well, if you’re her father, we’d like to drop the girl off nice and safe.”

I can’t deny the pride I feel for Richard in this moment. He isn’t buying into this man’s bullshit. He’s not easily fooled, and his protectiveness has extended to Austin, just as it did for me. It’s a strange sense of comfort, knowing that him and I are on the same page when it comes to protecting the little girl.

“I’ll go with you,” I pipe up.

Richard looks unsure for a second but then nods. He knows I can handle myself.

So, we’re all packed into this car, and this so-called father can’t even give proper directions. He mumbles something about stopping near an abandoned warehouse. My skepticism meter is off the charts, and I’m ready for anything.

We pull up near that sketchy warehouse, and that’s when the sorry-ass motherfucker decides he’s going to make a run for it. “Shit, he’s bolting!” I yell.

Richard doesn’t waste a second. He’s out of the car like a flash, charging after the guy. I watch in awe as Richard tackles him to the ground with the force of a goddamn wrecking ball. It’s like watching a lion tear into its prey.

Once they hit the ground, it’s a no-holds-barred beatdown in real time. Richard lets loose. He doesn’t give a damn, and Mr. Shady has no chance in hell of fighting back.

I watch from the car’s mirror as Richard rains down blow after brutal blow. The sound of bones cracking and flesh smacking fills the air, punctuated by Mr. Shady’s cries of agony. Part of me is scared by the intensity of his violence, but another part of me is proud. This bastard deserves every bit of what he’s getting.

When Austin shifts in my lap I quickly turn my attention to her. I reach over, covering her ears with my hands to keep her distracted.

Austin’s confused eyes meet mine, and I give her a reassuring smile. “Just focus on me, alright? Everything’s fine.”

I keep talking to her, trying to drown out the sounds of violence outside.

By the time Richard is done, the scumbag is bloody and broken. He can’t even whimper in self-defense. With ice in his veins, Richard delivers the final, spine-shattering blow. It’s a moment of sweet satisfaction, a brutal reminder that justice always comes knocking, one way or another.

Her small hands clutch mine, seeking comfort. “What’s happening out there?”

“Just some grown-up stuff,” I say, my heart aching at the fear in her voice.

I glance at the rearview mirror again to see Richard whip out his gun, not giving a damn about the consequences. He aims at the bastard’s leg and pulls the trigger. The gunshot rings out like a thunderclap, and the piece of shit screams like a wounded animal.

Richard leans in, possibly delivering a threat. Then he pulls out his phone and steps back slightly. He turns away, tapping the screen, and speaks into the phone. After a brief exchange, he clicks his phone shut, and hauls Mr. Shady by his collar, lifting him off the ground like a rag doll. Richard slaps the cuffs on the guy and shoves him in the backseat. He takes the wheel and balances the phone between his ear and shoulder, steering with one hand while effortlessly shifting gears with the other. His focus is split between the road and the conversation, but you’d never know it. It’s like he’s done this a thousand times before. Emily rattles off the address where Austin actually lives. We haul ass to that spot, and Richard rings the doorbell.

When the door opens, Austin doesn’t waste a second. She darts out of my arms and makes a beeline for her mother. The sight of that little girl hugging her mom is heartwarming, but it also makes me feel like a bit of a screw-up. I’ve never had someone look at me with so much relief.

I start to turn away, feeling like I’m intruding on their emotional reunion, but then Austin grabs my hand. A genuine smile spreads across my face, the kind that’s as rare as a unicorn. I crouch down, and Austin wraps her tiny arms around my neck.

“Thank you,” Austin says, and I just nod, because sometimes words aren’t enough. That little girl has more heart and gratitude in her than most adults I’ve met. With one last wave to Richard and me, she heads inside, and we watch her go, knowing she’s right where she belongs.