Chapter 8 - THE TRAUMA PROTOCOL
I didn't drive back to Martha’s immediately. I had ninety minutes before Luca arrived with his hired muscle.
I parked outside the local police precinct and pulled out my phone. I didn't call 911. I called Detective Russo, an officer who regularly brought victims into my ER, a man whose life I had helped save two years ago when he came in with a gunshot wound to the shoulder.
“Jessi?” Russo answered, sounding surprised. “Everything okay?”
“No, Tony. I need you. And I need you off the books for about ten minutes before you go strictly by the book.”
I explained everything rapidly: the drugging, the blackmail, the fake custody order, the international flight, and the impending confrontation at Martha’s house. I sent him the SD card footage of the abuse and the slap, along with a photo of the one-way tickets to Belize.
“I’m on my way,” Russo said, his voice dropping into a deadly serious register. “Stall him.”
I sped back to Martha’s house, arriving just ten minutes before Luca’s scheduled appearance. The CPS caseworker had finished her interview with Fiona and was sitting in the kitchen, looking grim.
“Ms. Miller,” the caseworker said as I walked in. “Fiona disclosed some highly concerning things regarding her father. However, he does have a temporary court order. I cannot physically stop him from taking her right now, though I will be filing an emergency petition to revoke it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow will be too late,” I said, walking to the front door. I unlocked the deadbolt. “Martha, take Fiona upstairs and lock the bedroom door. Don’t come out until I say so.”
Martha nodded, scooping Fiona into her arms and hurrying up the stairs.
Right on time, a black SUV pulled into the driveway.
Luca stepped out, looking immaculate in a tailored suit, projecting the image of a concerned, wealthy father. He was flanked by two massive men in tactical gear.
I stepped out onto the porch, pulling the front door shut behind me.
“Give her to me, Jessi,” Luca demanded, holding up a folded legal document. “I have a court order. The police already told you to stand down. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“You’re not taking her, Luca,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. My heart was pounding, but my hands were completely steady.
Luca sneered, stepping up onto the porch. “You think you can stop me? You’re a mess, Jessi. You’re mentally unstable, you’re exhausted, and you’re a danger to our child. The judge saw it. The cops saw it. Hand her over.”
“I saw the tickets to Belize, Luca,” I said softly.
Luca froze. His smug expression slipped for a fraction of a second before hardening into absolute malice. He stepped closer, invading my personal space. The two security guards moved up the steps behind him.
“Then you know I’m not playing games,” Luca whispered venomously. “Bring the kid out here right now, or my guys are going to break that door down and take her. And I’ll make sure you end up in a padded cell.”
“You’re right about one thing,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “I am exhausted. I’m exhausted from being married to a parasite.”
Luca’s eyes widened in fury. He raised his hand, lunging forward to grab my throat.
Suddenly, the roar of accelerating engines shattered the quiet suburban street.
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Three unmarked police cruisers swerved onto the lawn, trapping Luca’s SUV in the driveway. The doors flew open, and Detective Russo stepped out, his weapon drawn and leveled directly at Luca’s chest.
“Put your hands on your head, Luca!” Russo roared over the siren. “Do it now!”
