“Owen!” Danielle calls, and both my brother and I run. Danielle is standing behind the pool table, holding Jackson’s hand. Her eyes are wide and full of fear, and Jackson looks confused.
“Daddy!” he yells and tries to make a run for me. But she’s faster.
Daisy grabs Jackson, and he immediately starts to struggle, just like I taught him in the event someone tries to kidnap him.
"It’s okay, I’m your mom,” Daisy tells him, and he freezes.
“Daisy.” I rush over, blood boiling. “Put him down.”
“Dad?” Jackson asks, looking back and forth between Daisy and myself. “Is this Mommy?”
“Yes, baby!” Daisy hugs him and drops to her knees, tears falling from her eyes. “I’m your mommy.”
“Let him go,” I tell her. “You have no right to be here.”
“He’s my son! I have every right that you—”
“Legally,” I interrupt. “You have no rights. Let him go and leave.”
“No.” She stands up, holding Jackson’s hand. She looks down at him, smiling. “Want to go get ice cream? We can catch up.”
“Okay,” Jackson says, not too sure of himself.
I clench my fists. I could easily stride over and shove her away, but I don’t want Jackson to see me lay a finger on Daisy. And I don’t want to hurt her. Deep down, I feel bad for her. She’s missing out on the greatest kid in the whole fucking world.
“No. Let him go,” I say again in a calm, level voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Owen pull out his phone and start recording a video. I know exactly what he’s doing: getting proof of Daisy trying to take my son. Thank you, Owen, for thinking two steps ahead for once.
“You have no legal standing to take him,” I repeat. “You gave up custody when you left us four years ago. Let him go.”
“No,” she says again and shuffles back. “I’m taking him and you can’t stop me.”
“Should I call the cops?” Danielle asks, voice trembling a bit.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Tell them exactly what’s going on. Jackson’s non-custodial mother is trying to take him.”
“Daddy, I’m scared.” Jackson tries to pull away, and Daisy tightens her grip. I rush forward, and she picks him up, holding him so tight she’s hurting him. He kicks and hits a table, knocking a few glasses onto the ground. They shatter, and glass crunches under her feet. If I try to wrestle him out of her arms, she could drop him or fall, and he’ll get cut.
As she shuffles away from me and toward the door, I advance, going around a table and blocking the exit.
“Get the fuck out of my way!” Daisy struggles to keep a hold of Jackson. The kid is only four, but he takes after me and is solid.
“Put him down,” I say again. If she gets out the door, she’s going to take him. She came here to kidnap him, though she won’t see it that way. But it’s exactly what it is. There’s no way I’m letting her out that door.
Or walk out of here free.
“Ow!” Jackson cries, twisting as he tries to get out of her arms. She adjusts him against her, gripping his arms so tight his skin is turning red.
“For God’s sake, you’re hurting him!” I yell. That’s it. I’m getting Jackson back. But before I can make a move, Daisy puts Jackson down, takes a death grip on his wrist, and pulls a can of pepper spray from her purse, pointing it at me.
“Jackson, it’s okay,” I say, swallowing hard. She’s really come unhinged. Or desperate. I don’t know which is worse right now.
“You can’t keep him away from me.”
“Daisy.” I hold up my hands, heart racing. Pepper spray is far from lethal, but I don’t want Jackson to go through the pain of getting it in his eyes or inhaling it. “We can work something out. Just let Jackson go.”
Jackson starts struggling again, crying and calling for me. “It’s okay,” I tell him again. “Daisy, think about this. Is this how you want to start a relationship with your son?”
Daisy’s face goes slack, and she looks down, realizing what she’s doing. She lets go of Jackson, and he runs to me, crying. Having him in my arms again is the best feeling. I scoop him up, never wanting to let go.
Daisy starts crying, and Owen rushes over. I hand him Jackson, heart aching a bit not to have him in my arms. I rush forward and take the pepper spray from Daisy.
“Don’t do this to me,” Daisy says, looking up.
“I’m not. You did this to yourself.” I inhale and hear sirens in the distance. Thank fucking goodness. I didn’t want to be the one to make Daisy’s official arrest.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Scarlet
I sit up, eyes waking up before my mind. I’m uncomfortable with stiff legs and an aching back, and for a split second, I think I fell asleep sitting up on the couch. Then I blink and realize my eyes are still sore and swollen from crying.
Yes, crying.
The room is dark, and I sit up, stretching my arms over my head. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the stiff armchair next to my father’s bed at the nursing home. After leaving Weston’s house, I walked into town, took Eastwood’s only taxi to Newport, and was able to get an Uber to drive me up to Chicago.
I didn’t know where else to go other than the nursing home. Dad was having a bad day and just sat in his chair not really paying attention to anything. So, for the first time in my entire life, I spilled my guts. Said everything I ever wanted to say. Confessed the bad things I’ve done as well as admit just how deep my love for Weston goes.
And Dad just sat there, staring blankly in my general direction. A little empathy would have been nice, and advice on how not to farther fuck up my life would have been welcome.
But I got nothing.
Rubbing my eyes, I get up, moving slowly in the dark. My phone is in my purse, and it’s dead.
“Dammit,” I mutter. I have no idea what time it is, and I think I left my phone charger in the kitchen at Weston’s house. I left in such a rush I wouldn’t be surprised if I left more behind. Moving slow so I don’t wake up my dad or his roommate, I go into the hall, blinking from the bright lights.
“Oh!” a nurse exclaims, surprised to see me. “I thought you left.”
“I fell asleep.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to work out a knot. “What time is it?”
“A little after two AM.”
“Shit. Sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll go.”
The nurse shakes her head. “Stay. It’s late, and I know you walk back to your place. Just this one time, though, you hear?”
“Thank you.” I go to the bathroom and then back to Dad’s room. The nurse put an extra blanket on the chair for me, and I’m grateful. These rooms are fucking freezing.
“Scarlet?” Dad is sitting up in his bed.
“Dad.” I rush over, clicking on the light over his bed so he can see me. “It’s late. You should go back to sleep.”
“You listen to me,” he starts. I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to deal with one of his flashback rants right now. “You’re a Cooper, and Coopers don’t give up.”