True Love Cowboy by Jennifer Ryan

At first, Jon was relieved to finally receive a text from Trinity, until he saw what it said. Then the pictures started popping up and he grew livid. He didn’t think he could be any angrier until he called her and heard Steph’s drunk-ass voice.

He didn’t know why Trinity didn’t say anything to him. She had to have her hands full with Steph and getting Emmy out the door with her.

But his heart nearly stopped when he heard a thunk and Emmy screamed, “Mommy, no. You’re killing her!”

He didn’t think. He ran for his car, pulling his keys out of his pocket the second he cleared the door and hit the path to the driveway. He was behind the wheel and peeling out of the driveway before he really registered he was on his way.

Emmy screamed, “Daddy!”

His heart shattered. She needed him and he wasn’t there.

The screams echoed in his ears along with the thuds and the slam of a door.

Nothing prepared him to hear Trinity’s wailing voice plead with Steph to let her out.

Everything seemed to happen at once and all on top of each other as the miles passed by in a blur. His mind had trouble following him trying to keep the car on the road, listening to what was happening to Trinity and his daughter, and him having to make the devastating decision to put the call on hold so he could conference in 911. Somehow he managed to hold it together when the dispatcher answered.

“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“My ex is trying to kill my girlfriend.”

“What is the address of the emergency?”

He rattled off Steph’s address. “Hurry. Please. My four-year-old is in the house, too. I have an open line to them.” He tapped his screen to put all three of them on the line together like he did with so many of his business calls these days.

Trinity screamed one last time, “Let me out!” Then everything went silent.

“We have an officer two minutes out.”

That wasn’t fast enough.

Why couldn’t he hear Trinity anymore?

He was too late.

“Where are you, you little brat?” Steph yelled in the background far away from the phone. “Come out of there right now, Emmy!”

Emmy didn’t answer. At least he couldn’t hear her say anything.

“Sir, who is in the house?”

“Emmy is my daughter. Steph is her mother. Trinity is my girlfriend. Please, you have to help them. Emmy said her mother was killing Trinity and now I can’t hear her at all.”

“The officers just arrived. Do you know if Steph owns a gun?”

“I don’t think so.” He didn’t know. And he should since his daughter lived in the house.

“I said come out of there, Emmy!” More distant pounding.

“I think Emmy might have locked herself in the bathroom. I told her to do that if she ever felt unsafe.” Why did he have to tell his four-year-old something like that?

Thank God he did.

Something crashed closer to the phone.

“Police! Get down on the floor!”

For a second Jon breathed a sigh of relief. Help was there.

“Down on the floor!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Steph slurred, her voice disgruntled and defiant. “This is my house. She tried to take my kid!”

Jon relayed what really happened. “Steph went home from work sick and said she was picking up my daughter early. I tried to call them to be sure everything was okay. She didn’t answer, so I sent my girlfriend over to check on Emmy. When Trinity arrived, Steph was passed out on the couch, drunk and stoned based on what the pictures she sent me show. She texted me that she was bringing Emmy home with her. I called when I received the pictures and heard Steph tell Trinity she wasn’t taking Emmy. Then Emmy screamed that her mom was killing Trinity. So tell me, is Trinity alive or dead!” His voice shook and he prayed as hard as he could that she was alive.

Oh God, please.

“The officers have one in custody. Your daughter is locked in the bathroom. Alone, she says. Once officers have her out, they’ll search the apartment. We have an ambulance standing by outside.”

Those ominous words squeezed his heart. “Trinity’s cell phone is somewhere in the apartment. If the officer can find it, I can talk Emmy out of the bathroom.”

“Just leave her in there to rot,” Steph yelled to the officers in the house.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” the officer ordered.

The dispatcher came back on the line. “One of the officers is searching for the phone now.”

Jon tried to listen to every little sound. The officers’ voices in the background talking to Emmy, though he couldn’t really make out the words. Steph grumbling incoherently. The shuffle of footsteps. The creak of . . . a door maybe.

“Found her. She’s bleeding and unconscious. I feel a pulse. Ma’am. Ma’am. Wake up. Are you all right? There you go.”

Jon thanked God for the officer’s patient and kind voice and how he relayed everything to the dispatcher, even as Jon overheard it on Trinity’s phone at the same time.

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.”

The paramedic nodded, then looked at the guy sitting up in the driver’s seat. He immediately exited the vehicle, presumably to tell the officer waiting outside.

“Mommy hit me, too,” Emmy whispered. “Lots. She was very mad.”

“That won’t ever happen again,” he vowed. He didn’t care what he had to do. Steph would never lay a hand on Emmy again. She’d be lucky if she got to see their daughter again.

He held the ice pack to Emmy’s back while the paramedic listened to her heart and took her blood pressure. Exhausted, Emmy fell asleep in his arms. He took that as a good sign that she felt safe enough to let go.

The driver climbed back behind the wheel. “The cops found the guy. They’ve arrested him along with the woman.”

Jon sighed with relief, but it was short-lived. The second they drove out of the apartment complex, he took out his phone and made the call he dreaded.

“Jon. You ready to talk horses?” Tate sounded pleased to hear from him.

Jon hoped Trinity’s brothers didn’t kill him over this. “You need to get to the hospital. Trinity was just taken into the emergency room. I don’t know everything, but she’s got a head wound, possibly broken ribs, damage to her hands, and she suffered a very bad flashback after being locked in a closet after she was clocked with a beer bottle and beaten by my ex.” He waited for the cussing, accusations, and death threats.

“Anyone else hurt?” Tate’s voice was calm and controlled.

Jon choked up. “Em-Emmy. Though she’s f-far better than Tr-Trinity.”

“Okay. Hold on. We’ll meet you there.” Which meant Tate would call the rest of Trinity’s family. They’d take care of her.

He nuzzled Emmy closer. He’d take care of her, but he wished he could be with Trinity right now, too.