Chapter Eleven

Claire

"Let's see what is going on out—" I started to say to Judah as I pulled back the curtain, forgetting all about how the windows were only mirrored during the day, protecting us, and that at night, anyone could see right in.

Not that I was thinking about that the first thing.

Because I was straining to see in the dark, hearing several voices.

Then, like in slow motion, I saw the guard that was usually sitting in his car come rushing up toward the house, the front porch light shining off the gun in his hand.

As he raised it.

Then shot.

Once.

Twice.

I didn't see who or what he was shooting at.

And I seemed frozen in the spot, my mind and body not quite registering what was going on.

Until more shadows moved out of the darkness.

And the porch light lit on someone's face.

Someone I was starting to think I would never see again.

Warren.

Panic, familiar, but having gotten buried beneath the newer sensation of safety, sprang up.

It was the swirling in my stomach and the tightening of my throat. The hammering of my heartbeat, and the cold sweat that broke out across my skin, making a chill work its way up my spine.

Everything felt like it was unfolding in slow motion.

I saw Warren reach into his jacket, coming back out with a gun, his arm lifting, aiming, then squeezing the trigger.

Once.

Twice.

Then I watched as Aurelio's man's body jolted hard twice, then fell backward to the ground.

Unmoving.

I wasn't even aware of the thought forming before the strangled cry of "No!" escaped my lips.

It was right then that I remembered about the mirrored windows. And how windows weren't exactly soundproof, either.

Because Warren heard me.

Then his head whipped over.

And he could see me.

Standing there.

With the son he wanted to rip from my arms settled on my hip.

No.

No no no no no.

A helpless cry broke from my throat as I rushed away from the window, reaching for the phone in my pocket as my mind raced.

Aurelio.

I had to call him.

If he was at a meeting, he was likely still in Navesink Bank somewhere.

Not far.

Close enough to get to me.

To help me.

Save us.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I tried to swipe at my screen, run, and hold Judah at the same time.

My mind was trying to run through all the potential hiding spots in the house, where I could stick Judah to keep him safe, even if I had to face up his father to buy us a couple more minutes until reinforcements arrived.

Kitchen cabinets were a no, since he could rattle inside of them and draw attention to him.

The closets upstairs were mostly empty and he couldn't escape them, but he would also be way too easy to find.

"Come on. Come on," I cried at the phone as it went to voicemail once. Then twice.

I ran down the basement steps, thinking it would be the quietest place I could stick him, even if there weren't a lot of great areas to actually hide him.

"Please, for the love of God," I whimpered as I dialed his number again as Judah began to squirm and cry, likely picking up on my panic, on my desperation.

No, he might not have had any fondness toward Warren. But he also had no actual fear, either.

So if Warren found him, he wouldn't raise a stink if he got taken.

But that would only happen if I was dead.

No way in hell was he getting my son otherwise.

A sick feeling swirled in my stomach as I tried to make my way down the steep, narrow basement steps without my hands to grab the rail.

I had to believe that, should I not make it through this, that Aurelio would still fight to save my son, to get him away from the monster that fathered him.

I could be at peace with that.

Judah being raised by Aurelio.

He would be in good hands.

With a ton of people to protect him.

"Hello?"

His voice surprised me enough that I almost dropped the phone as I stood at the lower landing, looking around helplessly, seeing nowhere truly safe to keep Judah from doing something stupid like climbing the stairs.

"He's here," I choked out, voice catching. "He's here. He's coming for us," I told him as the tears rushed down my cheeks.

"Fuck," Aurelio growled, then told whoever he was with what was happening.

That was good, I reminded myself.

He had backup.

They would all come.

They'd save my son.

"I'm coming, angel. Just hold on," he said, and I could hear voices, then noises, as he, I figured, ran. "Where are you? What's going on? Where's my guard?"

"They shot him," I cried, making my way back upstairs, knowing that there was no escape from the basement.

I had to go up.

"He's down and… and… and Warren saw me," I said as I made my way back into the kitchen, hearing a slamming noise coming from the front. "They're trying to break down the door."

"Okay. Listen to me," Aurelio said, voice calm, as I heard the beep before an engine purred to life. "He's going to get in."

"What?" I squeaked as I eyed the door that was shaking as they rammed into it.

"That door isn't going to hold. Get upstairs. Into my bedroom," he demanded.

The thought of going anywhere near that door filled me with dread.

But there was no back staircase.

I had to do it.

Grabbing Judah more tightly, I took off at a dead run, wincing as the door rattled in its jamb, then tearing up the stairs so fast I almost missed a step.

"Are you there?"

"Yes," I panted.

"Go into my closet. All the way in, on the left side. Behind all my suits," he said, and I turned on the light, then moved inside, cradling my head between my ear and shoulder, then pushing the suits away. "There is a door there. Can you see it?"

I didn't for an agonizing second before it appeared, hidden so well that I was sure Warren wouldn't be able to find it. Not if I piled things in front of it.

"It's a tight fit, but you two can fit inside. Get in there, stay quiet, and wait for me. I'm not far away. We're speeding as fast as we can over there."

"Okay," I said, not telling him that I didn't plan on crawling in there with my son. That I had to do whatever I could to divert Warren's attention away from this hiding spot.

There was a little pull lever inside that lit what had to be some kind of storage space. Likely for money or guns. Certainly not to hide people inside of.

"What's in here, bud?" I asked, putting Judah down, then kind of pushing his butt until he crawled inside.

He was a curious kid.

He would explore for a minute or two before he got upset that he was alone.

I hoped it was enough time for backup to arrive.

Pulse pounding, I closed the door, moved the suits back into place, then slid a pile of shoe boxes in there for good measure before rushing back out of the closet, cutting the light, closing his bedroom door, and taking a shaky breath.

Then I heard it.

The door cracking.

And male voices.

They were inside.

"They're in," I whispered to Aurelio, then ended the call, knowing he wasn't going to want to hear this as I flew across the house and into the nursery.

I dropped the phone on the bed with shaking hands as I looked around the room, trying to figure out what I could grab to use to defend myself.

Below me, footsteps fanned out as his men started scouring the house, looking for us.

Somehow, though, I knew it was Warren who came up the stairs.

I ripped the lamp plug out of the wall, then grabbed it as I moved behind the slightly open door.

My heart was pounding in my ears, muffling the sound of the footsteps as they moved closer.

Bile rose up my throat, knowing this was it.

I wasn't naive enough to believe I would survive a fight with Warren.

I'd been his punching bag many times before in my life. Even if I tried to stand up for myself, I stood no chance.

This would be far worse than any of those other times.

Because I'd betrayed him.

I'd run to his enemies.

I'd taken and hidden his son from him.

"You can't hide forever, you stupid bitch," Warren's voice called, singsong, like he was enjoying this, like he was feeding off of the fear that was seeping out of my pores.

Not for myself.

I would endure.

I would do anything to keep him away from my baby.

But for Judah.

If I failed…

No.

No, damnit.

I couldn't fail.

I didn't have to fight forever.

Just until Aurelio and his men arrived.

How long could that be? Ten minutes? Twenty?

I suddenly wished I'd asked as the feet turned into the doorway.

Then stopped.

"The fuck—" Warren started as my stomach flipped over and over, making me wonder if I was going to be sick as he moved a foot in. Then another.

My slick palms tightened on the lamp, watching the edge of the doorway, just waiting for him to get a little deeper into the room.

One.

Two.

His focus was on the crib.

Likely trying to understand how there was an entire nursery set up already.

Three.

I yanked back my arms, then swung forward with every ounce of strength in me, watching the wooden base crack against his head, but a little lower than I'd intended, landing more behind his ear than across his skull.

Still, the impact hurt, making him curl forward with a savage curse as I tried to rush out from behind my door.

He was faster, though, whipping around, grabbing a handful of my hair, and yanking backward.

The pain seared across my scalp, making me hiss out my breath, trying not to scream, not to give Judah any reason to cry out to me.

"You thought you could run?" he growled, yanking me back into the room, and slamming the door with his free hand.

Before shoving me against it, the pain of the impact screaming across my cheek.

"You thought you could keep my son from me?" he growled, his voice hot in my ear as he yanked my hair back harder, making white sparks of pain dance in front of my eyes as the tears flooded, threatening to spill out.

"He's not yours," I ground out. "He's mine."

I knew pissing him off was not the smart move.

But he was already enraged.

And if this was how I was going to go out, I wanted to at least get a chance to tell him what an absolute shithead I thought he was.

"He's mine," Warren growled, grabbing the back of my neck, then slamming me forward into the door again.

I tried to angle up as much as I could, not wanting my forehead to hit the door, to risk unconsciousness.

The impact was on my chin and mouth, and I tasted blood as my teeth scraped across the inside of my lower lip.

"He's mine," Warren roared.

Then his fingers were tightening around my neck, then yanking me backward by it, tossing me back with enough force to send me flying into the bed, bouncing on the mattress as he loomed over me.

I'd seen his evil before.

When he'd put his hands on me.

But I'd never seen the blind rage I was looking at right then.

I felt like I was choking on my own heart as he took a threatening step forward.

"So, you're to blame for all these fucks being alive, huh? You fucking him?" he asked as he took another step forward. "Are you?" he barked, reaching down for me.

But not to drag me onto my feet.

No.

He went right for the waistband of my pants.

Then started to pull them down.

No.

Goddamnit, no.

I could take a beating to save Judah.

But I wouldn't let him put his hands on me like this again.

If I was going to die, it was going to be with the memory of Aurelio's hands on me.

Not Warren's.

"Letting him touch what's mine," he added, his gaze watching as he started to expose some skin.

I don't know where the speed came from.

But the combination of it, and Warren's preoccupation with what he was planning to do to me, made me able to lift up and kick out my leg before he could stop me, landing hard to the bullet wound I knew must have still been hurting.

He reeled back, face twisted in pain.

I didn't wait. I flew off the bed, and tried to put some space between us.

His anger overpowered his pain, though, making him turn and come right at me, grabbing me by the throat, squeezing tight.

"I'm not yours," I hissed even as he started to cut off my air supply. "Never again," I added before more words proved impossible.

"How're you going to stop me now?" he asked, ramming me back against the rails of Judah's crib, then reaching down again for my pants, yanking them down as far as he could without releasing my throat, and I could hear a ripping sound. "Haven't you learned? I get what I want."

There wasn't much thought right then.

Just action.

I struck, clawed, kneed, kicked.

I watched in satisfaction as my nail marks down his face split open and trickled blood.

I didn't get to enjoy his pain for long, though, before his fist was colliding with my face. Before my hair was grabbed again, yanked savagely to the side, then used to toss me to the floor.

The impact knocked the wind out of me, but I was moving before I could even draw a breath again, trying to put some distance between us.

But then, right as he was leaning down to grab me again, I heard it.

Heard him.

Judah.

Crying.

It was half a beat before Warren heard him too, his mouth twisting into a cruel sneer.

"No," I cried as he turned toward the door, I reached out, grabbing his leg in both my hands, and yanking back with everything in me.

He fell hard and fast, unprepared, and barely able to throw out his hands to break his fall.

I was scrambling up, one hand yanking my pants back into place, and the other grabbing a super cute bear porcelain figurine Aurelio had come home with one day, excited because it matched Judah's bedspread.

I hated to sacrifice him, but I grabbed it with both hands as I came over Warren's body, and slammed it downward with everything in me.

"Warren!" Denny's voice called even as the bear crashed into his boss's skull. "We have to go!" he yelled. "They're coming!" he added, tearing up the stairs.

I scrambled away from Warren, who was conscious, but just barely. Rushing across the hall, I made my way into the bathroom, grabbing the top to the toilet tank, and bringing it back into the hall with me, using my body to block the door to Aurelio's bedroom as Judah wailed inside his little locked room, likely terrified, and my heart cracked for him, even if I knew I had no choice. I couldn't go to him. Not yet.

"No!" Warren roared as Denny tried to peel him off of the floor. "My son," he added as Denny's hands grabbed his boss by the jacket, pulling him backward as Warren tried to rush at me.

"We'll get him back," Denny said, his cold eyes glaring at me as he made that promise. "But not today. There's not enough of us tonight," he added, dragging Warren down the stairs.

"You bitch!" Warren growled, eyes wilder than I'd ever seen them, his teeth bared, making him look every bit the monster I always thought he was. "I'm coming for him. And then I'm going to wrap my hands around your throat and watch the life leave your eyes."

His threat was tempered a bit by the fact that he was actively being dragged down the rest of the stairs as he said it.

I didn't rush inside to my son.

I didn't dare lead anyone to him.

In case this was a trap. Or Warren broke free from Denny.

I stood there, the ceramic lid raised, ready to strike out.

Adrenaline was still rushing through my veins, the sound of my heartbeat thumping in my ears, muffling, but not completely blocking out Judah's cries, and the little slams as his hands and fists hit where he knew the door was located, but was unable to get it open from the inside.

Did he have enough air in there?

It was okay.

He'd be okay.

So long as he was crying, he had enough air.

As much as my heart was in tatters at the sound of his fear and confusion.

This was for his protection, I reminded myself. It wasn't forever. It was better for him to endure ten minutes of crying than a lifetime under his father's thumb. Without me.

Because that threat of Warren's wasn't hollow.

If he ever got close to me again, he would kill me. There wasn't a single question in my mind.

The sin of taking his son from him was bad enough. But he might have let me live, just to torture me by taking Judah away from me.

But scratching him? Hitting him? Making him fall and get hurt?

That was unforgivable.

I wasn't naive enough to believe it would be as ‘quick' or ‘easy' as strangulation, either. There would be torture first. Hours and hours or days and weeks of it.

Before he finally put me out of my misery.

Then took my son for himself.

"I'm sorry, baby," I whispered as Judah's cries got louder.

My lower lip wobbled and tears stung my eyes.

But then there were the sounds of footsteps again, making me yank the lid up in my hands, ready to swing, to bust someone's head open, if necessary.

"Claire," a familiar voice said before my mind could even focus on the face of a man who'd saved us more than once now. One who I knew would continue to do so.

The lid fell from my hands, cracking in half as it hit the floor.

But I wasn't even paying attention.

I was turning to twist the doorknob, then throwing open the door.

I rushed into Aurelio's bedroom, ripping open the closet door, flicking on the light, then running to the back corner.

My arms shot out, swiping the shoeboxes out of the way as the suits hanging overhead blocked my vision.

But I didn't need to see.

I knew where the handle was.

And on the other side, my baby was screaming and pounding for help.

I yanked the door open, then pushed my hands inside, grabbing my baby, and pulling him out, crushing him to my chest as I fell on my ass on the closet floor, crying with him.

"It's okay. You're okay," I assured him as the tears poured down my cheeks, as my whole body shook as the adrenaline started to leech out of me. "I'm sorry, baby," I added, voice catching on a sob as I pressed my face into the side of his head. "I'm sorry. It's okay. I'm here."

Slowly but surely, Judah's sobs subsided until he was just letting out sad little sniffles and hiccups.

My tears, though, kept flowing for a while.

Whatever pure, maternal rage had flooded me during the attack was gone, leaving only the fear I'd been burying underneath it, making me cold and shaky, my heartbeat hammering.

It was then that I heard footsteps.

I couldn't bring myself to look, though.

But a second later, I felt a body move in behind me, arms wrapping around both of us, and pulling me back against a wide, solid chest.

Aurelio's face pressed to the side of my head like mine was pressed to my son's.

"You're okay, angel," he assured me, his arms tightening. "It's all over," he added as his lips pressed into my hair.

Somehow, his quiet reassurances only managed to open the floodgates wider, making loud sobs escape me, coming from somewhere deep and seemingly endless.

But Aurelio sat with me through it.

Not complaining.

Eventually, Judah pulled out of my arms and moved over to play with Aurelio's shoe boxes, allowing Aurelio to turn me, to fully pull me into his arms, his hand running up and down my spine, his lips pressing soft kisses to my forehead.

Until, little by little, the well seemed to dry up, leaving me sniffling and hiccuping much like my son had done just moments before.

"He's right here," Aurelio said as I finally came back to myself and remembered my son. "He's shoving my shoes in the storage room."

Turning, I saw that he was right.

Judah was on his belly, feeding shoes into the room, moving halfway inside of it himself, erasing my worry that he might be absolutely terrified of small spaces for the rest of his life.

"Come here, buddy," I said, and Judah frowned, but walked over to me, let me scoop him up.

Then Aurelio helped me to my feet.

The night wasn't over.

And, it seemed, there was much to be done…