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“Dada!” she wails. Her wobbly lip and terrified eyes rip my heart right from my chest and I’d do anything to get her away from Clay right now. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself to take it slow and steady so no one gets hurt even though every cell in my body is screaming at me to act now.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” I whisper to her, offering her a smile, but she just cries harder. “Clay, let me have the baby.”
He glances down in his arms like he’s just realizing that she’s there and stares at her for a second before he shakes his head and looks back up at me.
“She’s mine.”
“No,” I answer, shaking my head slowly as I struggle to keep my voice calm. As soon as I met Quinn and Brooklyn, I felt something settle inside me, like this little girl and her mama were always meant to be mine and it doesn’t sit well to hear my brother claim her. “She’s not.”
His brows furrow. “Yes, she is! She’s my daughter.”
“She’ll never be yours!” Quinn yells, struggling against the rope tied around her wrists and I flash her a pleading look as Clay turns to look at her. He lets out an animalistic yell before marching across the boxcar and pointing the gun against her temple.
“Shut up, bitch!”
“Clay,” I snap, my heart jumping into my throat as my thoughts screech to a halt.
No.
No.
No.
“Don’t you dare hurt her, you hear me?”
His arm goes slack at my tense tone and he nods, taking a few steps back as he whispers, “Everything is wrong, Luke.”
“How is it wrong?”
“Dada!” Brooklyn wails again and I can see Clay’s patience wearing thin as he turns to look at the little girl in his arms with a scowl. I have to get her away from him. Once I do that, we can talk and I can calm him down but as long as she’s crying, he’s going to be impossible to reach.
“Hey, Clay,” I say, talking softly as I take a tentative step forward. “Why don’t you let me hold Brooklyn so she’ll stop crying and we can talk? Okay?”
He studies me for a second before nodding and handing Brooklyn over to me. As soon as she’s in my arms, her cries quiet and relief washes through me. I nod in encouragement.
“Okay, now tell me what’s wrong.”
He runs a hand through his long greasy hair as he blows out a breath. “He lied to me, Luke. He told me he was innocent but when I got my hands on the files, all the evidence….”
He gestures wildly to the corner of the boxcar and I spot an open file. Photos of our mother are splayed across the floor and I suck in a breath.
Oh, shit.
“Where did you get those?”
He shakes his head. “This officer at the station. She was nice to me whenever I was locked up and I asked her for help.”
What the fuck?
Why would anyone, knowing how unstable my brother is, give him that file?
“Clay,” I whisper, taking another cautious step toward him. “It’s okay. I know this isn’t what you wanted but it’s not the end of the world.”
He meets my eyes and a single tear slips down his cheek. “I just want a family, Luke. Why can’t I ever have a family?”
“You have me. I’m your family.”
“No,” he seethes, his gaze dropping to Brooklyn as she cuddles into my neck before he turns to look at Quinn. “You went and made yourself a new family to replace me. And you did it with my kid.” He gestures to Brooklyn with the gun and I wrap my arm around her to shield her. “She’s mine.”
