And then all hell broke loose again.
“Let me go! You can’t keep me in here!” Trinity shouted. Something fell and scraped on the floor.
“Damnit. Where are you going?” More scuffling, then nothing.
“What’s happening?” Jon asked the dispatcher.
“Not sure. Hold while I get the information.”
Every second felt like an eternity that ticked by with the pounding of his heart. He was still five minutes away from the apartment complex despite driving like a maniac and breaking every speed law and running three very yellow lights and one that was definitely red as he raced to help his girls.
“Sir, it appears Trinity was found locked in a closet. When she came to, she was disoriented and frightened by the officer. She ran from the apartment and the officer had to chase her down. She’s apparently experiencing some kind of panic attack.”
“She was kidnapped and held inside a trunk months ago. She’s having a fucking flashback.”
“I’ll relay that to the officers and paramedics assisting her right now.”
Jon finally pulled into the apartment complex and parked behind one of the cruisers with its lights flashing. “I’m here.” He didn’t know if the dispatcher heard him or not, and he jumped out of his car and ran toward the path that led to Steph’s place, but stopped short when he spotted the ambulance with the back doors open wide, an officer holding Trinity’s arms as she thrashed on a stretcher, and a paramedic filling a needle.
An officer came out of nowhere. “Are you the man who called this in?”
“Yes.” He took a step toward the ambulance so he could help Trinity, but the officer took his arm and held him still. “Is it your daughter locked in the bathroom in the apartment?”
He stopped trying to pull free of the officer and turned to him. “Yes.”
“We need your help. She’s very distraught. We’re trying to talk her out without having to break down the door and traumatize her more.”
He knew he needed to help Emmy, but he also needed to get to Trinity and help her.
“Sir, Trinity’s in good hands. They’ll take care of her. We need to take care of your little girl.”
Jon let the officer pull him toward the apartment and away from Trinity.
It felt like he was being ripped in two. Everything inside him wanted to be in two places at once.
He barely noticed the neighbors milling around outside their apartments watching the scene unfold. He tried to take in the apartment as the police officer led the way to the hall. One of the dining room chairs was lying on its side in the entry by the wide-open closet door. Steph must have used it to lock Trinity inside. He stared at the red smears on the stark white panel and smudged all over the handle.
The officer turned back because Jon had stopped in his tracks, transfixed by what he saw but his mind couldn’t comprehend. “She tried to claw her way out.” The officer filled in the information he didn’t want to believe.
“You can’t take her from me, you bastard!” Steph tried to shove her way past the officer standing next to her in the living room, but he held her arm in a firm grip.
“Sit down, or I’ll make you.”
Jon stared at Steph, not seeing the woman he’d fallen for once, but someone he truly didn’t recognize. “Not only can I take her. I will. You handed her right over to me. You tried to kill Trinity. You’re going to jail. For good, I hope.”
“She deserved it. She tried to take my kid.”
Jon noticed the broken beer bottle with blood on it on the floor. Trinity’s blood.
“I won’t let you near either one of them ever again.” He walked down the hall behind the officer. A third officer knelt at the door with one of those universal keys that opened indoor privacy locks.
“The apartment manager brought one of these over. I didn’t want to open it until you were here. I think she’d feel safer seeing you.”
Jon nodded, waited the two seconds it took the officer to open the door, then he filled the doorway so Emmy saw only him, though she’d scooted herself into the niche between the cabinet and toilet with her knees up to her chest and her face buried in them.
“Emmy, sweet girl, it’s Daddy. You’re okay, now, sweetheart. I’m here.” He slowly crouched in front of her, his nose wrinkling from the overwhelming stench, and his shoes crunched the cat litter dusting the floor. He put his hand on her head. “Baby, come out of there now.”
Her little wet face rose and her devastated eyes met his. “She killed Trinity.” Her bottom lip trembled, and she burst into tears and launched herself into his chest and cried her little heart out.
Jon’s heart broke into a billion pieces. He’d never forgive Steph for doing this to their daughter. “No, sweetheart. Trinity is alive, sweet girl. I just saw her. She’s hurt, but she’s going to be okay.” God, he hoped he wasn’t telling a lie right now. He had no idea how badly Trinity had been hurt or how, other than being bashed over the head with that broken beer bottle.
“Mommy hit her, then she kicked and kicked and kicked. She wouldn’t stop.” Emmy sobbed.
“Sir, let’s get her to the ambulance so the paramedics can look her over.”
He held tight to Emmy, covering her head as he walked her out of the apartment and past Steph. He didn’t want her to see her mom. It would only make her more hysterical.
One of the officers caught up to them with one of Emmy’s soft blankets from her bed. He draped it over Emmy, and Jon wrapped her up good as he walked to the ambulance, anxious to see Trinity, only to find the ambulance empty. “Where is Trinity?”
“They already took her to the hospital. She’s got a major head trauma, possibly some broken ribs. Her hands were in pretty bad shape, too,” the officer informed him.
His heart sank. He should be with her. He needed to see her. She needed to know he was there and he’d take care of her.
“Please take a seat,” the paramedic instructed. “We’ll take you both to the hospital and have a pediatrician check Emmy out.”
Jon sat on the gurney. The paramedic had raised one end up into a sitting position. He leaned back and held Emmy tight.
The officer closed the back door, blocking out the flashing lights and commotion outside.
Emmy seemed to calm and burrow into his chest, though there was nowhere for her to go.
“Do you think I can get her vitals?” The paramedic waited patiently.
Jon rubbed Emmy’s back, soothing her as the crying subsided and she rested against him, hiccuping from the bout of tears. “Hey, baby, we’re just going to get a look at you to be sure you’re okay.” Jon gently eased the blanket off her back, but Emmy winced and tried to move away from where he brushed his hand against her. “Does something hurt?”
Emmy nodded.
“Can I see?”
Emmy reached back and pulled her shirt up a bit. He helped ease it up a little farther. The paramedic winced and turned to a cabinet, pulled out a pack, cracked it, then gently laid it on the bruises on Emmy’s lower back and disappearing into her little leggings.
Jon met the paramedic’s questioning gaze. “I heard Trinity say that she’d seen a man at Steph’s place and he hit Emmy.”