Chapter 11 - Fractured Trust
I dodged to the side, throwing my arm out to protect Hannah’s carrier as Brandon grabbed for my purse.
"Give it to me!" he yelled, throwing his weight against me, pinning me back against the cold brick wall of the diner.
I screamed for help at the top of my lungs. "HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!"
Brandon slammed his hand over my mouth, his face twisted in rage. "Shut up! You're going to ruin everything I've built!"
I bit down on his hand as hard as I could.
He shrieked in pain, pulling his hand back, and in that split second, I swung my heavy leather purse with all my strength, striking him across the face.
Brandon stumbled backward, tripping over a metal trash bin and falling hard onto the asphalt.
At that exact moment, blue and red strobe lights illuminated the mouth of the alley. The sharp screech of tires echoed off the buildings as three police cruisers pulled up, blocking both exits of the back lot.
"POLICE! DON'T MOVE! GET ON THE GROUND!"
Multiple armed officers stepped out of their vehicles, flashlights cutting through the darkness, pointing straight at Brandon.
Brandon scrambled to his feet, holding his hands up, instantly trying to shift into his smooth, professional demeanor. "Officers! Thank God you're here! My wife is having a severe post-partum episode—she took our baby in the middle of the night—"
"ON THE GROUND NOW!" an officer yelled, stepping forward with handcuffs drawn.
"Listen to me!" Brandon shouted, panic creeping into his voice for the first time. "I am a senior director at Bennett Advertising! This is a misunderstanding!"
An officer tackled him to the pavement, pinning his arms behind his back and clicking the steel cuffs onto his wrists.
A female officer hurried over to me. "Ma'am, are you alright? Is the baby okay?"
I sank down onto the pavement, clutching Hannah’s carrier tightly to my chest. "We're okay," I gasped out, tears finally breaking through my composure. "We're safe."
Dr. Lawson’s car pulled up right behind the police cruisers moments later. He had seen my urgent email, recognized the immediate danger, and called the precinct chief himself to expedite the emergency response.
He rushed over to me, kneeling down to check on Hannah.
"You did the right thing, Lauren," Dr. Lawson said gently, checking Hannah's pulse and breathing. "She's safe now. It’s over."
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As the police pulled a screaming, cursing Brandon into the back of a cruiser, I looked down at my baby girl. For the first time in weeks, despite the flashing lights and sirens, Hannah wasn't crying.
She opened her eyes, looked up into my face, and let out a soft, quiet sigh.
