Luckily, Eedie had been seventeen and fully capable of telling the world that she was most certainly not abused by her father.
The pattern had been spotted by the caseworkers at CPS, and all other calls had been immediately written off.
Moran—there was really no reason to call her “officer” anymore because I was going to make sure she lost her job—puffed up her chest and started to posture up to a seething Chevy when Webber came up to Chevy’s side.
He must’ve said something to Chevy because he relaxed slightly and turned to me.
I got out and let him see his child. “He’s perfectly fine. I had him in the car before she started doing anything.”
He swallowed hard and moved into the open door, peering into the car seat to stare at his son.
His son smiled and dropped his paci out of his mouth.
It was the cutest gummy smile I’d ever seen.
“Hey, there,” Chevy said. “You okay, bud?”
I left them to it, going up to Webber’s side.
Webber caught me by the hip, his arm across my body, and pushed me behind him.
Instead of letting me go, though, he pulled me in close until my body was pressed up against his back.
Likely, he did this because he wanted to make sure that he knew where I was so I didn’t go and punch her in the face again.
Now that she didn’t have her face pressed up against the window, I could see the blood on the window hadn’t all been from Moran’s hand but also from her lips.
She had blood bubbling at the side as she bellowed, “You can’t hit a police officer!”
“Ma’am,” an officer said from the side. “Please step back and explain to me in detail what happened.”
I looked at his breast pocket, right above his badge, and saw the officer’s name was “ASSMAN.”
Nice.
“I was questioning her childcare tactics when she whirled around and punched me,” Officer Moran said. “I was fearing for the child’s life.”
I snorted. “I was fearing for my nephew’s life. That’s why I punched you in the face and knocked you on your ass.”
“Oh, is that right?” she sneered.
“I have cameras!” Dorothy called out. “And you can see everything!”
Five
Hey, quick question. Are you fucking kidding me?
—Text from Silver to Webber
WEBBER
Anger slithered in my belly like a snake ready to strike.
I wanted to fucking kill the bitch just like I did her brother.
The apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree, that was for certain.
“Perfect,” Assman said. “Why don’t we all calm down, separate, and we’ll figure out the rest from here.”
