Page 19 of Brick (Chosen Few #5)
B rick closed his hand around the cool metal handle of the bedroom door. Time slowed. He didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility he’d failed. That there was even a chance Bray wasn’t in the room.
Hope collided with angst as he gently eased open the door. The room seemed empty—too quiet.
His pulse roared in his ears. Garbage and clothing were strewn across the brown carpet. The stench of urine and feces hit him in the face. Pushed against the far wall was a small crib, the paint so chipped and beat up the damn thing could have been brown or white—it was impossible to tell.
A low cry sounded. A whine.
Brick froze, and his gaze landed on a little figure inside the crib. Dark curls billowed around the child’s face. Relief exploded inside him, but a new fear made his pulse slow.
What if it’s not him?
“Bray?” he asked softly, as he moved toward the crib.
The child scooted until his back bumped against the railing. Brick lowered himself so he wasn’t towering over the kid. Large brown eyes, identical to his own, stared back at him.
Food was crusted on his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy from crying. Brick suspected all the chaos had woken and scared the little guy. Tear tracks stained his chubby face. The sight ripped Brick’s heart in two.
“Hey, buddy. I’m a friend of your mommy’s. I’ve got something for you.” He reached into his vest and pulled out the stuffed animal. “Is this Rocky?” He held it over the crib.
A little hand reached cautiously for the stuffy, then Bray pulled it tightly to his chest and dipped his face into its fur. “Mommy,” Bray wailed.
Brick’s heart wrenched. He stood and reached over the crib. “Let’s go to your mommy, okay little man?” He scooped up the boy.
Bray didn’t protest, but he hugged his animal tighter. He also let out a shuddering gasp, as though he’d been crying for hours. He probably had. His soaked clothes stunk like pee. The kid probably hadn’t even been given a change of clothes.
Bastards.
If he weren’t holding a toddler, he’d have stormed out to the living room and put his fist through Justin’s face.
He forced calm into his muscles so Bray wouldn’t sense his anger. His hand on the boy’s back, he rubbed in small circles. Bray’s little body relaxed.
Emotion rushed through him. He had a son.
There was no question Bray was his. He felt the connection down to his bone marrow.
The toddler’s eyes held a piece of him, a piece so raw and personal he couldn’t even place it.
Love at first sight had struck him in Fargo—little had he known it’d hit him again in a dingy apartment in Detroit.
“How ’bout we go for a walk? Your momma sure wants to see you. ”
Bray’s big brown eyes grew even bigger. He glanced over Brick’s shoulder as if expecting Natalie to appear.
“She’s waiting in my car. We’re gonna go get her right now.” He turned from the crib and glanced around to make sure there was nothing of Bray’s in the room, but it was impossible to tell.
Taschen appeared at the door, his gun drawn but pointed at the ground. His gaze landed on Brick and his shoulders fell an inch as his mouth rose in a smile. “Found our guy?”
Brick beamed. The smile came from somewhere so foreign but so right. “Yeah, we did.”
“Come on then, Dad.”
Dad.
Holy hell, he was a father. Pride brought forth a wave of adrenaline, and he fought the urge to kiss his son’s head.
One day Bray would be comfortable with him, but it was too soon, and the last thing he wanted was to confuse him.
He’d do everything in his power, as long as it took, to show Bray he was worthy of being in his life.
“Let’s get the hell—” Taschen paused. “The heck out of here.”
Brick scoffed. Not swearing was going to be tough for him, too. But he’d fucking do it.
With one arm wrapped securely around the little boy, he swung the strap of his AR-15 so the gun rested against his back, then reached for the Glock in his waistband. He’d need to walk out armed, but he wasn’t using an assault rifle while holding a two-year-old. Not if he could help it.
Taschen jerked his head, and they made their way back to the living room. Zain had Justin and his friend flat on their stomachs on the ground. He held a gun, and his booted foot was propped on the coffee table. He smiled when he saw Bray. “Hey, buddy.”
Bray dropped his head to Brick’s shoulder and turned away. He wanted to question the bastards and find out exactly what Keetan had planned to do with Bray, but taking him to Natalie was more pressing. She was probably going out of her mind.
“Get some answers,” he ordered Zain.
“On it.”
“Lead the way,” Brick said to Taschen.
His friend kept his weapon aimed ahead of him as they moved down the hall. Reaching the exit, he pushed open the door and then paused to scan the parking lot.
Brick shot a glance toward the apartment they’d just left. The prison in which his boy had been kept. Where he’d been forced to sit in his own filth and god knew what else. Brick’s face would be the last Keetan ever saw. Cop or not.
“All clear.” Taschen moved out the door.
Brick followed into the warm evening air. Bray lifted his head and blinked as if he hadn’t seen the sun in days. “It’s nice today, huh?”
“Go swimming my mommy?” he asked.
Brick smiled. A sense of peace settled over his heart. He’d accomplished many things in his career with the military, including protecting his country and saving lives. But this took the cake. “I bet your momma would love that, buddy.”
The wind picked up Bray’s curls as Brick carried him across the parking lot. Every step made his heart a little lighter because any second, Natalie would see them. As much as he loved holding his son, he couldn’t wait to place Bray in Natalie’s arms.
***
They’d been gone too long. Sixteen minutes. Her knee bounced. Anxiety sang a high-pitched tune in her head. Here she sat, waiting to be reunited with her son. If he was even alive. If Brick made it out of the building...
It was torture of the highest form.
She couldn’t take another minute.
Wouldn’t.
As she reached for the door handle, ready to bolt for the building, movement in her peripheral vision made her freeze. The blood rushed from her head to her toes. An audible gasp tore from her lips, followed by a choked cry.
Brick strode across the parking lot with a little boy in his arms. He was close to a hundred yards away, but she’d know those curls anywhere. The shape of his sweet head and little body. The way his arms curled close to his chest while he snuggled something.
My baby.
She shoved open the door of the SUV and stumbled onto the garage floor. After she clambered over the low cement wall, her feet hit the pavement running.
The wind whipped against her face, sending her hair flying. Brick picked up his pace. The closer she got, the more she could see of her beautiful baby boy.
Her chest ached. Low, sharp cries sounded from her throat. She’d never acknowledged the deep, shaking fear that she might not see him again. That he might have been permanently taken from her.
That he’d have died just wanting the comfort of his mother.
She ran faster. The distance between them closed. Brick’s face was tight, his mouth firm. He was probably unhappy she’d left the SUV, but to hell with that.
“Bray,” she called.
Her son spotted her, and his eyes shone. “Momma!”
Brick’s stoic expression loosened into a lopsided smile as he passed Bray to her.
Bray closed his arms tightly around her neck and wrapped his little legs around her, squealing, “Momma, Momma!”
Tears coursed down her cheeks. Her eyes burned with more emotion than she could contain. She held Bray tightly to her chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. Mommy missed you so much.”
“Missed you, Momma.”
She kissed his cheek over and over and stroked the curls she’d sworn never to cut.
Brick’s hand landed on her back, and he turned her toward the parking garage. “We need to get out of here now.”
Icicles of fear touched her neck. She nodded and let him lead her across the parking lot. Taschen fell in step behind her. Her hackles rose. The men surrounded Bray and her like a shield.
She was barely aware of her footsteps. Her body vibrated with disbelief as she continued to stroke her son’s back. She inhaled the scent of shampoo lingering in his hair from his bath after their swim yesterday.
Had it been only thirty or so hours ago they’d hung out at the pool? Yesterday felt like years away, each minute without her son as long as an eternity.
As her perception returned, she noticed that her arm, which was snuggled under his legs, was damp.
His pants were wet. The scent of pee reached her nose and sadness engulfed her.
Keetan hadn’t even taken care of him in the most basic ways.
Bray had been potty-trained for months, so going in his clothes had probably been confusing and upsetting for him.
I’ll kill Keetan.
When they reached the SUV, Brick hustled to open the back door for her. She climbed into the very back so she’d have space alone with Bray to change him. Luckily Brick had suggested she pack extra clothes.
Brick got into the middle row, and Taschen settled himself in the driver’s seat.
“Where’s Zain?” she asked, glancing out the window.
“He’s having a chat inside.” He looked at Taschen. “Let’s loop around to the parking lot so we can pick him up.”
“Roger that.”
As Taschen reversed the SUV, Brick turned around and passed her the bag of clothes and other items she’d packed for their son. “How’s he doing?”
She settled Bray on her lap. He looked around curiously as she buckled her seatbelt while hanging on to him. “Okay, I think.”
She removed an outfit from the bag. “Want to change, honey?”
His lip trembled. “Pants wet.”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” she murmured. “I brought dry clothes from home.” She carefully peeled off his shirt. The stench of cigarette smoke, mustiness, and bodily fluids hit her. Her eyes stung, but she fought to keep her emotions in check.
Bray looked at her, and she forced a smile.
His brown eyes studied her face with precision, and she was extra grateful she’d made the effort to shower and clean herself up.
She fit over his head a long-sleeved shirt with his favorite superhero on the front, then reached for the extra pair of underwear and pants.
A minute later, he was fully dressed and his cheeks were clean thanks to the wipes she’d packed. She tucked the dirty clothes in the bag. Taschen parked in front of the side door of the apartment building.
Brick leaned over the seat with a water bottle and a protein bar. “You hungry, buddy?”
Bray looked at Natalie, and for a heart-stopping moment she was thrown through a washing machine of pain and regret. Seeing Bray face-to-face with his father was like receiving a punch to the solar plexus. She’d cheated both of them.
It’d been easy to dissuade herself from doing the right thing when Brick was nothing but a distant memory. But all she’d done was hurt the person she loved most in the world—she’d kept one of the biggest pieces of himself a secret.
It was criminal.
Pain spread through her chest. She’d do anything to turn back time and change what’d already been done. To give these two a life together.
She shifted her gaze to Brick, and his expression held knowing the size of a football field. “Is that okay?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course.” She accepted the protein bar, and Brick popped open the water bottle then passed it over the seat.
Bray took it greedily and gulped. Rivulets of water ran down his chin. Fear impaled her in the stomach, and she looked at Brick with alarm.
“It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “He’s drinking now. We’ll get lots of fluids and good food into him. Actually, I just got a notification that our grocery order arrived.”
She sniffed. “I completely forgot.” Bray lowered the water, and Natalie passed it back to Brick so he could screw on the lid. Then she peeled open the protein bar. Bray eagerly chomped into the snack.
The front passenger door opened and Zain plopped inside. “Go,” he barked.
Taschen roared out of the parking lot and onto the road. Tension thickened the air in the vehicle, but she paid no attention. The guys up front talked quietly, but Brick kept his focus on Bray and her.
“I didn’t know what he liked, so I got lots of veggies, yogurt, fruit, things like that. Nothing too sugary.”
Moisture clung to her eyelashes. Dammit, she’d never stop crying watching these two. Brick had fallen into the role of daddy as quickly as he’d swooped in to take care of her. Bray hadn’t yet shown a response to his father, but he hadn’t been fearful when Brick was carrying him.
She’d do everything in her power to bring them together. No matter what. If that meant moving to Seattle—if Brick still lived there—she’d do it in a heartbeat. Even if it meant leaving Ellie.
Shit. “I have to text Ellie.” She grappled for her phone, but it wasn’t beside her.
Brick passed it over the seat. “You left it in the front.”
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the device. She typed a quick message.
We’ve got him!
After sending it, she leaned into Bray and kissed his plump cheek. He chewed contentedly. “Aunt Ellie said to give you a squeeze,” she told him.
“Auntie,” Bray said with a smile. Her heart fluttered. The more he spoke and the more his little personality returned, the greater her relief. There was no doubt he’d been traumatized, but with extra love and reassurance, he’d come to understand he was safe again.