Laiken.
The force of his fist connecting with Collin’s face nearly steals my breath.
The impact snaps my ex’s head to the side and sends him stumbling backward, his grip loosening long enough for me to rip my arm free. I nearly fall to the sidewalk as adrenaline floods my system.
Shouts erupt around us as phones lift.
“Oh my God,” someone yells. “That’s Laiken Lennox!”
My arm throbs where Collin grabbed me, a deep ache blooming beneath the shock. Now that I’m free, my hands start to shake as fear finally catches up, rushing through my blood like poison.
Laiken scoops Elody up in one swift motion, pulling her against his chest. Then his arm slides around me as he shifts, planting himself between us and Collin.
“I’ve got you,” Laiken growls.
Elody clings to her father, sobbing into his shoulder, her body trembling. I step in and wrap an arm around her too, pulling her close, needing her to know without question that she’s safe.
The crowd around us continues to swell. People whisper as they record. Already, I know that pictures are being spread. Videos are being uploaded, and a narrative is being formed before there’s even a chance to breathe.
Laiken’s arm locks protectively around me as Elody’s fingers twist into the fabric of his coat.
I hate that the past has finally caught up with me.
More than that, I hate that it touched Elody.
And deep down, I know what will come next.
This won’t just impact me.
It’s going to affect Laiken too.
Because Collin didn’t just find me.
He found us.
40
Laiken
It doesn’t take long for the police to show up. Red and blue lights slice across the sidewalk, bouncing off raised phones and glass storefronts, staining everything in jarring color. I step away from Kia and Elody before anyone tells me to. My hands stay visible and I remain calm.
Control matters now.
In moments like this, everything I do matters.
When an officer asks me to explain what happened, I give him a plain, factual account of the events.
“He grabbed my pregnant wife,” I say evenly. “And our child was present.”
More than one witness backs it up. Someone points to Collin’s split lip as another person angles their phone, already replaying the video. I catch an officer’s glance flicking toward the screen, his jaw tightening just a fraction.
Deep down, I know it won’t matter why I threw the punch.
Only that I did.
Collin and I are separated, and statements are taken. Names are written down, times logged. I expect cuffs, and I can’t help but brace for them. As much as the thought of Elody seeing that makes my stomach turn, I’m ready for it. Ready to face the consequences, because if I had to do it again in order to protect my family, I would.
Instead, the officer tells me I’m not under arrest.
