4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Cooper

I grab the flashlight and gun out of my glove compartment. Normally I keep my gun with me wherever I go, but when you're going to see a lady who is clearly in distress, that's one item that you should leave out. Even though I kick myself now for such a stupid rationale. As I walk down the street, certain that I heard a gunshot, I dial Wade's number. He's still up. That doesn't surprise me. The man never sleeps. The Ford brothers are always ready for anything. All five of them served in the military, and therefore, they are no strangers to battle. And I know that if something did happen here tonight, and I didn't call them first, that I'd get an earful for it.

"Wade, dude. Sorry for the late call."

"What do you need, man." He says, as cool as ever. I could call and tell him that his house is on fire, and he'd likely sound the same. Nothing rattles him. His brother Colton is the same. He's the one that bounces at Mingles, so I've seen that motherfucker in action. Jack's a pretty tough dude, too. He's at the bar a lot, hanging with Colton and Wade. The guy is covered in tattoos, and he doesn't take shit from anyone. Dalton and Garrett, I don't see much of, but they've come to their brother's aid a time or two, since I've known them.

"I heard a gunshot fire in London's area. Just checking it out. She's calling the cops right now, but you know how that works out, especially in a shit ass part of town like this one."

"Who's London?" Wade asks, and I can hear him shuffling, like he's putting on pants or shoes or something.

I shut my eyes tight, realizing my folly. "Shit. Stella. Dude, there's a whole story on this girl, but she's real tight lipped about it."

"She in trouble?"

"I'd bet money on it."

"She's got a kid, too, right?"

"Yeah. Eight years old. Cute as a button."

"Where does she live, man?"

I tell him. "And don't tell her that I let on about her real name. I swear to God it was a Freudian slip."

I hear a click a moment later, from his end, as he switches to Bluetooth in his car. "It's cool, Coop. Shit, I can't remember half the chick's names I've fucked around with."

"Oh, that. And don't tell her that you know anything, either."

"Dude, you're calling me at two o'clock in the fucking morning. Unless you were playing Monopoly with her, which I doubt, you were messing around. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out." He clears his throat. "I'll be there in five. I'm already on the road."

"Bring your brothers."

He hangs up before he answers. And I realize that he's at least fifteen minutes away, but I'll assume that he drives like a maniac if it's called for.

The streets are littered with people. Some hanging around their porches, looking as guilty as ever, some drinking from beer cans. One guy is walking around with an old, beat-up shopping cart, full of what looks like garbage, but is likely his worldly possessions. As I look around, I see no inconspicuous cars, no vehicles with tinted windows, and nobody peeling away from a distance. As sure as the nose on my face, that was a gunshot. I've heard enough to know the difference. That was no car backfiring. It was not a child's pop gun or even a BeeBee gun.

That shit was real.

Faces that stare back at me as I scan the neighborhood look anything but innocent, and I look back at London's house, hoping like hell that she had the sense to lock her door behind me. I decide to put on my big boy pants. A pair of drunken old men sit on a creaky wooden porch on the same block as London, so I approach. "Who's got the gun, man?"

The fatter one scoffs. "Who doesn't?"

I try again. "You see anyone around here that doesn't belong?"

The skinnier one chimes in, just as condescending as the fatter one. "Besides you?"

"That pretty blonde you're fucking brought some trouble with her." The fatter one comments, bringing his cigarette filter to his mouth.

I let the insult slide. "What sort of trouble do you reckon she brought?"

The skinny one smiles too sweetly. "The kid's cute."

My fist balls up, my teeth grate together, but I don't let them know that I'm rattled. "You see anyone else around here that don't belong?"

Fat one's face sobers. "Who're you looking for?"

"I'm not sure. But I heard the gunshot, and unless either of you know where it came from, I can only assume that the person shooting is after her." I say, gesturing with my head to London's house.

I see Wade's car pull up. Behind him is Dalton's escalade. Both the skinny and the fat man look. "Now, there's someone that don't belong."

"They're with me." I explain.

"You a cop?" Skinny one asks.

"A drummer, actually. But these guys are former military."

"Whoopee shit. So are we." Fat one states.

"If you are, then you'll know where the shot came from." I state, as Wade and Dalton approach. I nod hello to them.

"She alone in the house?" Wade asks.

I nod."Yeah."

"I'll go check on her." Wade offers, knowing that London will recognize him, not Dalton.

The dude with the shopping cart walks by, looking like he hasn't bathed since Bean was born. "The shot was Santa Claus, man." He chuckles drunkenly. London's house is the only one on the street with any semblance of the holidays. These houses are more dilapidated than hers, so having a stable roof or porch likely trumps a Christmas tree on the front lawn, or lights hanging from the windows.

I ignore the vagrant. "Look, she called the police, so you might as well tell me what you know, because you're going to have to do that, anyway, when they get here."

Dalton stands next to me, arms crossed over his chest, in a stance that makes him look every bit as imposing as Colton does, when he bounces.

"You don't scare me." Skinny one says, unconvincingly, looking him up and down. Sure, I'm no slouch, either, but Dalton is taller, and his muscles are truly akin to military, whereas mine are leaner, achieved through years of drumming and hauling said drum kits around. Plus, I work out, sometimes with Wade, sometimes alone.

"Besides," Fat one says. "By the time the sheriff gets here, we'll all be asleep, and that noise your pussy heard will be long forgotten."

My nostrils flare. "I suggest you stop referring to the lady like that."

"Where'd the shot come from, partner?" Dalton asks, his tone flat, like he's not taking any bullshit.

"It was close." I add. "It was on this street for sure."

"Gunshots are everywhere, man." Dude with the shopping cart says, making his round again, like this is his M.O. at night. Checking people's garbage cans or the like. "Everyone around here carries. Y'all would be stupid not to. Hell, that one kid got shot here a few weeks ago. It ain't nothing new in this part of town."

"And you haven't seen anyone suspicious hanging around?" Dalton asks.

Fat one gestures to a white house, two doors down. "That guy deals. Always has people coming in and out. He's quiet tonight."

The house is directly across the street from London. My heart skips a beat. "Shit."

"This ain't Sesame Street, pal." Skinny one states. "Your lady friend picked the wrong side of town, man. Ain't no women or children have lived in these parts for years. You ask me, that landlord of hers ought to be shot, never mind." His voice is matter-of-fact.

Dalton looks at me. "You want me to go banging on doors?"

I wave."Na.The sheriff'll do that."

"The sheriff ain't gonna do nothing." Fat one says. "He won't even show up. He'll send his nephew in the morning. If there ain't no bodies, they don't come here."

"But you said yourself that there's a drug dealer living in that house." I point out.

"So?" Fat one states. "Ya'll think the sheriff cares? Like I said, if there ain't no bodies, they don't care. Hell, when that little boy got shot, like my friend was saying, they didn't even come. Sure, they sent an ambulance, but that's it."

"How come?" I ask.

He shrugs."He lived."

I draw in a deep breath. I know that I'm not going to get anywhere here. "Thanks for your time."

Dalton claps me on the back as we walk away. "You did the right thing, man."

"Yeah, well, I'm about to do more right things." I tell him, as we approach London's house. I knock on the door and Wade answers, holding a cookie shaped like a Christmas tree between his teeth, he removes it and takes a bite. London is equally cavalier, making me relax.

But despite that, I look her straight in the face and say. "You and Bean are going to stay with me." I say it on exhale, to sound more casual, even though my stomach is in knots.

Dalton stands next to me and nods. "That's a smart idea."

"Stella, my brother Dalton. Dalton, Stella."

Wade and I exchange a look, after he uses her pseudonym, making my skin crawl.

Dalton reaches in and shakes her hand. "It's smart. Cooper here lives on the same street as our brother, Colton, who lives on a horse ranch."

Wade chimes in. "Yeah, you'd never need security with them horses. They're a hundred times better than goddamn Chubb."

London looks at me. "But I barely know you."

I take a step towards her. "Trust me, darlin'. You and your daughter are not safe here."

"But I thought you said that your landlord was on you to move some of your stuff. He won't stand for this, surely."

Wade interjects. "Old Tommy would be all over a young mama and her daughter living there. That would seal the deal for Coop."

"And you wouldn't even have to pay rent, either."

A look crosses her face. "No. That's where I draw the line. I'm not living with you for free, or in exchange for...things." She gestures with her hand, making like she'll be regarded as my personal servant, to tend to my every need, both physical and otherwise. The boys catch on. Wade tries to hide the smirk, but then his face turns pink.

"God, if Garrett was here..." Dalton trails off, turning his back, so that London doesn't have to see him try futilely to hide his smirk. I know that their brother Garrett blushes any time anything sexual is brought up. For a tank, he's a shy man.

"Can we focus here?" I ask, growing irritated. "Look, Lon...err...Stella. Put some things together for yourself and for Bean. I don't want you staying in this place another minute."

"We can stuff most of your shit in my Escalade." Dalton offers.

"Yeah, and from the look of this place, we shouldn't leave that thing parked outside any longer than necessary. Someone is going to scoff it for sure around here."

"Good point." Dalton states.

"Did you find out where the shot came from?" London asks, grasping at straws. She's not at all comfortable with the idea of staying with me. Can't say that I blame her. But if she's gone around this neighborhood in any capacity, she'd know that this is not a place for women or children, or anyone that is beneath the law, for that matter.

"No, but I'm not letting you stick around to find out, either." I tell her, using a comforting tone. "As sure as the nose on my face, you are not safe here, darlin'. I mean it. Even the drunk outside said that your landlord saw you coming. He had no business bringing a young girl and her baby here."

The look on her face tells me that she's battling with herself. I get it. It's a tough choice. I don't know where she's coming from, but if it were up to me, and I had to choose between potential scandal in living with a strange man or keeping myself and my child safe, I'd choose the latter. I go for bold. "Here. Take this then." I tell her, handing her my handgun from the back of my pants.

She immediately recoils. "I'm not taking that."

I purse my lips together into an apologetic smile, but she gets the hint. "Does your place have space for privacy?"

"I've got an in-law suite in the basement that you're welcome to." I lift a hand. "I never asked you to live with me, darlin'. Only a controlling psychopath would do that. I just want you and your little one to be safe."

"I'd offer for you to stay with me, but I live in a bachelor apartment." Wade volunteers. "Unless y'all want to sleep in the bathtub, Coop's place is your best bet."

"We could talk to Colton." Dalton offers.

London raises a hand. "No, that's fine. Gosh. I never wanted to be a burden on anyone."

"You'd be more of a burden dead, darlin'." I tell her frankly. "I have no idea how to raise a child."

"Me neither." Dalton says.

"Same." Wade adds. "All I know is that this is no place to raise a child. Who's your landlord? I have half a mind to go over and give him a piece of my mind."

"Ain't no use." I tell him. "He knew full well what he was doing."

"I won't get my deposit back." London states, worried. "I don't have any money until I get paid."

"Don't you worry about that." My hand goes to her arm. "First priority is getting you out of here before you get shot. The rest is gravy."

"Yeah. Let's get at it." Dalton states. "Shouldn't take more than a couple of trips to the Escalade to clear this place out." He says, looking around. Aside from the Christmas tree and some decorations, she's got a couch and coffee table, a throw rug, and just bedroom furniture.

"All the furniture was here. It's just my kitchen things. And most of it I bought on the way here. There isn't much. It all fit in that storage container." She says, pointing to the plastic container about the size of her coffee table, in the corner of the kitchen.

It takes us all of thirty minutes to pack her things into Dalton's Escalade and my truck. London brings a sleeping Nicole out of the house, placing her in Wade's car, since there is no room for her elsewhere. The child doesn't stir. We make the drive to my place, setting Bean down on the bed in the spare room in the basement. It's sad how few possessions this woman and child have, and I'm concerned about what brought her here even more than ever.

And I soon learn that bringing her to safety was as good a call as ever.