35. Aaron

35

AARON

H ours had passed, and we were still stuck at the goddamn police station. The lead they'd supposedly found must not have panned out. My head was throbbing with a stress-induced migraine, and my patience was wearing thin.

Every minute that passed without news gnawed at me, amplifying my frustration. It seemed like the officers were moving at a glacial pace, their lack of urgency an insult to the terror gripping my heart. The thought of Lila and Jamie being out there, possibly hurt or suffering, made my blood boil. They had to move faster, do their fucking jobs with at least half the urgency I used in my own work. They were supposed to protect and serve, for Christ's sake, and it felt like all they were doing was trying to suspend Miles, Felipe, and me in some sense of false hope.

I was fucking tired of it.

Felipe and Miles were sitting on either side of me, their tension just as palpable, though less aflame. We had been here for hours, waiting for any news about Lila and Jamie. My nephew and the woman I loved—the two people who had become more important to me than I had ever expected.

My phone buzzed with yet another work-related email, and I resisted the urge to chuck the thing at the dull cinderblock walls. Instead, I silenced it without even looking. Work had always been my anchor, my way of providing and protecting, but right now, it felt like an irrelevant nuisance. How could I focus on something as trivial as business, making yet more money I didn't need, when the people I loved were in danger?

I clenched my fists, my frustration boiling over. "What the hell is taking so long?" I burst out, unable to contain my anger any longer. "They should have found them by now. Or hell, they should at least have given us another update. I'm going insane."

Felipe looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and shared anxiety. "I know it's frustrating, Aaron. I feel the same way."

Miles, who had been in one of his on-again phases in his on-again, off-again relationship with fruitlessly pacing back and forth, stopped and nodded in agreement. "This is unbearable. We need to know they're okay. Every second counts."

The weight of our collective fear hung heavily in the air. I felt a pang of guilt twist in my gut. For so long, I had believed that providing financially was enough to protect the people around me. To protect myself, even. It was how I had taken care of Whitney in my own distant way, how I had convinced myself that I was doing my duty as a brother, as a dutiful son to our broken parentage, as a man. But as I sat here, bombarded by the cold reality that I might lose Lila and Jamie, I realized just how flawed that belief was. They needed more than money. They needed me, my presence, my love.

The memory of the last time I saw Lila and Jamie flashed through my mind. Lila's laugh, the way she lit up as she played with the child we'd both grown to love, relishing Jamie's innocent giggles. Those moments were priceless. I had thought I was showing my love through my work, but now I saw how much more they needed from me. They needed me to be there, fully present.

My phone buzzed again, and I ignored it.

Suddenly, as if sensing that I'd been screening someone else's calls, the phone at the front desk of the station rang, slicing through the oppressive silence. An officer answered, his face serious as he listened intently. My heart pounded in my chest, every nerve on edge.

After a moment, the officer looked over at us. "Aaron Pierce?" he called.

I stood up, my legs feeling like they might give out from under me. "That's me."

He gestured for me to come forward. "Sir, it's your sister. She wants to talk to you. Only you."

My heart leaped into my throat. I took the phone, my hands trembling. "Whitney? It's Aaron."

"Aaron." Her voice came through the line, shaky and hysterical. "I'm–I'm so, so sorry. For taking Jamie. For taking the nanny. I didn't mean any harm, I swear."

"I know," I said around a lump in my throat. She was a lot of things, but evil wasn't one of them.

"I just—Mark said he needed the money. I didn't even mean to tell him about you, or that you had Jamie." Her voice broke with a sob. "I just don't know what else to do. I'm so scared, Aaron. Mark... he threatened Jamie. I thought I could control it, but it all went wrong."

"Whitney, calm down," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's going to be okay. Just take a deep breath and tell me where you are."

"I can't. Mark will kill us if he finds out. All of us."

"Whitney, listen to me," I said, my tone firm but gentle. "I care about you, and I forgive you. You did what you thought you had to do to protect Jamie. But now, I need you to help me protect him and Lila. Tell me where you are so we can come get you."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I could hear her breathing, fast and panicked. "Jamie's doing well, Whitney," I continued softly. "He's a happy, healthy boy. You've done a great job with him. Let us help you both."

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. She rattled off a description and vague location of where they were—some abandoned warehouse near Hell's Kitchen. "Mark's gone for now, but he could be back any minute."

"Thank you, Whitney," I said, relief flooding through me. "We're coming to get you. Stay safe."

The station erupted into action, officers grabbing their gear and heading for the exits. Felipe and Miles stood up, their faces determined.

"We're going to get them," Miles said again, his voice resolute. He was a broken record, but I didn't begrudge him. He'd dealt with the worst kind of loss before, and we all worried he'd break if he had to go through another one. Felipe and I were pretty fragile right now, too.

I nodded, my heart pounding. "We're gonna get Lila, and Jamie, and we'll get Whitney too."

She was still my baby sister. It was my job to keep her safe, and I'd been doing a piss-poor job of it for years. Now, it was time for me to save her once and for all.