Chapter 2 - Shadows of the Past
Derek Mercer swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently as he tried to force a crooked, unconvincing smile onto his sweat-slicked face.
“Ethan... man. What a surprise,” Derek stammered, his eyes darting frantically toward the security guards flanking the hallway. “I didn't know you frequented St. Jude’s Emergency. Just... picking up family business.”
“Family business,” I repeated, the words rolling off my tongue like cold gravel. I didn't move an inch. I kept my body positioned squarely between Derek and the terrified little girl clinging to my suit jacket. “Is that what you call dragging a barefoot child out into a thunderstorm while her infant sister is dying of a high fever?”
“She... she wandered off,” Derek lied, his voice pitching an octave higher. He took a hesitant step forward, reaching out a hand. “Come on, Lily. Uncle Derek is here. Let's go home. Your mother is... she's resting.”
Lily pressed her face deeper into my leg, her small frame shaking violently. Uncle Derek. The words made my stomach churn. I knew what kind of man Derek was. A leech who lived off gambling debts, forged signatures, and whatever collateral he could scrape together from his victims.
“She’s not going anywhere with you, Derek,” I said softly, the quiet deadliness in my tone causing him to freeze.
“Listen to me, Cole,” Derek hissed, his false bravado momentarily slipping as frustration took over. “You have no legal right here. I am her legal guardian. That child—and the baby inside—belong to my household. If you interfere with domestic custody, I’ll have the city police down on your head before you can blink.”
I let out a short, cold laugh. It was a humorless sound that made Derek flinch.
“City police?” I stepped closer to him, closing the distance until I was looking down into his cowardly, desperate eyes. “Derek, look around you. The men standing at those doors own the precinct captains in three counties. If I wanted you arrested, you’d be sitting in a black-site holding cell before you finished your next sentence. But I don't want you arrested. I want you talking.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Derek snarled, turning sharply toward the exit.
He didn't get two steps.
My lead security operative, a massive ex-marine named Vance, moved with terrifying speed. He grabbed Derek by the lapels of his expensive coat, lifted him off his feet effortlessly, and slammed him against the reinforced drywall of the hallway with a dull thud that rattled the vending machines.
“The boss isn't finished talking to you, slime,” Vance muttered into Derek’s ear.
“Hey! Help! Assault!” Derek choked out, struggling weakly against Vance’s iron grip.
“Quiet,” I commanded. Vance eased his grip just enough for Derek to gasp for air. I walked up slowly, pulling the bent metro card from my pocket and holding it up in front of his face. “Where is Lena?”
Derek’s eyes widened in genuine terror. He stared at the card like it was a live grenade. “I... I don't know what you're talking about. She left. She walked out on us days ago.”
“She walked out,” I echoed, my voice flat. “And yet, her seven-year-old daughter shows up at an emergency room with a dying baby, carrying a card with my private number written on it just hours ago? People don't just vanish into thin air, Derek. Especially not when men like Viktor Vance’s old collection crew have been sniffing around the east side docks.”
Hearing Viktor’s name made Derek’s knees buckle entirely.
“You... you know Viktor?” Derek whispered, the last vestige of his composure shattering.
“I own the ground Viktor stands on,” I replied. “Now, I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is Lena Mercer? And what did you make her sign?”
Before Derek could answer, a frantic voice echoed down the hall.
“Mr. Cole! Mr. Cole, you need to come to trauma room three right now!”
It was the head pediatric nurse, her scrubs stained with antiseptic and sweat. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with urgency.
“What is it?” I demanded, turning away from Derek for a split second.
“The baby... we stabilized her fever, but we found something in her medical chart. She needs an immediate emergency blood transfusion, and under state law, we cannot proceed without parental consent or a legal guardian’s signature.”
My blood ran cold. I looked back at Derek.
May you like
Derek’s face twisted into a sudden, vicious, triumphant grin, even while pinned against the wall.
“That’s right,” Derek laughed hysterically. “She’s not my kid legally on paper yet—but the adoption papers are sitting on my desk, waiting for final notarization tonight. And guess what, Cole? Without my signature, that baby dies in the next twenty minutes.”
