Banging on Seth’sfront door, I hollered out for him. I didn’t care that I was making a scene, didn’t care if Emma heard me. I should have, but I was too terror-stricken to think it all the way through.
Wyatt was standing beside me, his gun hiding in the back of his jeans under his cut.
Without the door opening or a word from my no-good ex, cops were pulling into the driveway.
“Raven Foster?” asked the older of the two police officers as they made their way up to us.
“Y-Yes?” I stammered, completely confused.
“We were called because of a domestic disturbance. We’re going to have to ask you to vacate this property immediately.” His voice was so level and cold; I could barely wrap my head around it.
“My daughter is in there!” I spun around, continuing to bang on the door.
Wyatt wrapped his arms around my middle, carting me away. “Come on, sis. We’re going to have to figure out another way to get Emma.”
“But my baby!” I started hysterically crying.
Just as my brother was forcing me back into the car, the younger cop lifted Wyatt’s cut.
“Sir, do you have a permit for this firearm?”
Wyatt put his hands high in the air.
“Not on me, sir. I left my wallet with my bike when I met up with my sister. It’s parked in front of the Red Crown.”
“Likely story. You’re going to have to come with us.”
Everything went into a blur while they were handcuffing Wyatt in Seth’s driveway. All I could focus on was Emma pounding on the window, screaming as Brigette yanked her back from watching the shit-show unfold in the front yard.
“Please, officers, there has to have been a mistake. My ex does not have custody of our daughter, only visitation.” I tried to reason with them to no avail as they escorted Wyatt to the back of the squad car.
“Call Jett!” Wyatt yelled at me. “He’ll be able to fix this.”
I dove into my car, only able to drive a few blocks before the tears in my eyes made it impossible for me to see the road.
Pulling out the burner Jett had given me, I pushed one with shaking hands.
“Where are you?” Jett’s gruff voice boomed into the receiver.
“Down the street from my ex’s house. I don’t really know.”
“What’s your ex’s address?”
After I rattled off the street address for the house, Jett’s voice broke into my flustering brain. “Don’t move. I’ll be right there.”
It didn’t take long for a gigantic Ford to pull up behind my car.
Jett dove into the passenger seat, waving to the truck to leave.
“What happened?” he asked without missing a beat.
“I don’t know,” I wailed, trying to compose myself as much as possible.
“Do you want to do this the right way or the fast way?” Jett tugged me into his arms, wrapping me close against his broad chest.
“I want my girl back,” I whimpered into him.
“Then let’s go get her back. I need to make a call first, though.”