The Baby Contract

Troy stared hard at Mila, looking as though he was trying to see down to her soul. He wanted to know she could pull it off.

She held her hand out flat, showing him her nerves were steady.

“Okay,” he agreed.

He took up a spot between two windows, flattening himself against the wall. “No unnecessary chances.”

“I’ll only take the necessary ones.” She tucked her gun into the back of her pants, moved her hair so that it covered her earpiece, then marched up the three concrete steps to the front door.

She boldly pushed the doorbell and knocked loudly, trying to sound like someone who wouldn’t easily go away.

“Hello?” she called. “Hello? I need some help out here.”

She glanced at Troy as she waited.

His mind had to be reeling from both the situation and the revelation about Drake. But he looked stoic, professional, focused. The job was the job, and he was getting it done.

This was why she admired him, she realized. It was why she wanted to learn from him. It was why she was falling for him.

She forcibly banished the distracting thought, banging on the door again. “Hello? I need to borrow your phone.”

Drake was still crying inside, and she couldn’t hear anything else.

She cupped her hand over the small opaque window, making a show of peering inside. “My car’s broken down.”

“Come on,” she muttered under her breath. “Open up.”

Then the door cracked. “I can’t help you.”

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” she rushed on. “I hope I didn’t wake your baby. How old is he, by the way? I have a niece.”

“You need to leave,” said Ronnie Hart.

“I understand. I will. But you’re the third house I’ve tried, and nobody’s home. I’ve got an appointment. I’m meeting my sister. She’s pregnant. It’s an ultrasound. It might be twins. And I just need to get the auto club. Please?”

It took him a minute to answer. “What’s their number?”

“Oh, you’re a lifesaver.” She made a show of digging into her pocket. Then she leaned suddenly on the door, popping it open, sending him stumbling back.

“Thanks so much.” she said, pretending he’d opened the door himself.

He swiftly backed away, placing himself next to Kassidy. She was pale and shaking. She seemed emotionally wrung out, holding a crying Drake and looking as if she might drop him.

“Hi, there,” Mila told her cheerfully, making eye contact, hoping against hope she wouldn’t react. “Nice to meet you. Cute kid. Your husband is making a call for me.”

Thank goodness, Kassidy kept quiet.

But Ronnie took Drake from her arms. Not good.

“I know the number’s here somewhere.”

She looked up, and Ronnie was holding a gun on Kassidy.

“What’s with the gun?” she asked to alert Troy and the others.

“Move!” Troy ordered.

“I recognize you now.” Ronnie sneered at her. “You were there last night, chatting me up. You two must be friends.”

Troy moved cautiously through the doorway, his gun drawn, gaze pinned on Ronnie.

“Back off,” Ronnie ordered. He cocked the pistol. “Tell the other two to stay in the kitchen.”

Troy’s gaze went to Vegas and Charlie.

“I mean it!” Ronnie shouted. His eyes were glazed, and his face was flushed. He dangled the crying Drake precariously under one arm, the gun in his other hand trained on Kassidy, who was only inches away.

“Stay back,” said Troy, motioning to Vegas and Charlie.

“We know what’s going on here,” said Mila in the calmest tone she could muster.

Ronnie brushed the gun against Kassidy’s temple.

“I know you like Kassidy. I like her, too.” Mila tried a smile.

“You know nothing,” Ronnie spat.

“Mila,” Troy warned.

But she couldn’t back off. She was closest to them, and she was the only one who didn’t have a gun trained on him. She needed to keep his attention, stop him from fixating on the deadliness of the situation and keep him from deciding he had nothing left to lose. And she needed to send a signal to Kassidy.

“I love her singing,” said Mila, shifting her weight and using the movement to propel herself forward. “You must love it a lot. I know you’ve been in the audience.

“She’s working on a new song,” Mila continued. “With some great dance moves.” She did a couple of foot moves, using the momentum to take her even closer to them.

Then she looked hard at Kassidy, peering deep into her eyes, willing her to understand the message. “There’s this one move.”

“Shut up!” Ronnie cried.

She continued staring at Kassidy. “At the opening of the new song. It’s quite spectacular.”

Kassidy’s eyes went wide, and the blood drained from her face.

“We should get her to do it.”

“Everybody,” shouted Ronnie. “Get out!” He shook Drake, who shrieked in terror.

Two big tears welled up in Kassidy’s eyes.

“Now!” Mila yelled, diving through the air for Drake.

Kassidy dropped to the ground. The gun went off. Mila tore Drake from Ronnie’s arms, spinning her body to land on her back and break his fall.

She ripped the gun from her waistband and trained it on Ronnie.

But Troy was already there. He had Ronnie pinned to the floor. He flipped him over, fastening his wrists together.

Vegas was lifting Kassidy, cradling her in his arms.

“Get her out of here.” Troy’s voice was hoarse.

“Everybody okay?” asked Mila, gun still pointed at Ronnie.

Troy stared at her. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or relieved.

Vegas carried Kassidy out the front door, while sirens sounded and grew louder. Obviously, the neighbors had reacted to the disturbance.

“I’ll take him,” Charlie said to Mila, crouching to lift Drake from her chest.

“He sounds hungry,” said Mila, glancing around. “See if Kassidy had a diaper bag.”

“Seriously?” asked Charlie.

“Seriously,” said Mila.

Babies’ stomachs didn’t know anything about hostage-taking incidents. And with all that crying, he was probably dehydrated.

“I’m not changing his diaper,” said Charlie.

“Wimp,” said Troy, hauling Ronnie roughly to his feet.

* * *

Hours later, Ronnie was in custody, Drake was fast asleep and Troy was desperately trying to make sense of his life.

In the dimly lit bedroom, he smoothed his palm over his son’s silky hair, watching his little chest rise and fall beneath the powder-blue sleeper. Drake suckled in his sleep, his red lips pursing in a bow. His fingers wriggled and so did his toes. Troy couldn’t fathom what a baby that young could possibly dream about.

He also couldn’t fathom what miracle had brought him here. How had Troy ended up with a child? He was the last person in the world who deserved an innocent baby. He had no role models to draw on. He had an erratic, sometimes dangerous job. He hadn’t read any books, done any research. He certainly hadn’t done any of the work to get Drake to this point in his little life.

“You drew the short straw, buddy,” he whispered, his voice unexpectedly breaking.

Damn.

“But you’re here,” Troy continued. “And I’m what you get. And we’re going to make the best of it. Okay?”

He leaned down and gave Drake a kiss on the cheek.

He straightened. “Okay.” He braced himself. “Okay, that’s what we’re going to do.”

He could hear Mila’s and Kassidy’s voices murmuring in the living room. A doctor had checked out his sister. She’d been suffering from mild shock, but some dinner and a glass of wine seemed to help.

Now he needed to talk to her. He needed about a million questions answered. Their voices grew louder as he entered the room.

He stopped. He stared in disbelief at his sneaky sister, reflexively folding his arms over his chest.

“Troy,” said Mila in a warning tone. “The interrogation can wait.”

“I don’t think so.” He moved forward, taking one of the armchairs, cornerwise from Kassidy.

He knew he had to stay calm. She’d had an incredibly rough day. But he needed answers.

“I don’t get it,” he said to his sister. “Why the ruse? Why not tell me up front?”

Kassidy’s voice shook a little. “I wasn’t sure how.”

He felt like a heel, but he couldn’t back off.

“Honestly,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you at all. I know you don’t want a baby.”

“It doesn’t matter if I want a baby or not. I have a baby.”

“Troy, take it easy,” said Mila.

“Julie asked me to adopt him. She wanted him to stay with his family.”

Troy guessed he could understand that.