By the time I reached the block, I could see Brian’s car parked in front of the house. I slammed the car into park and hopped out, running toward the door.
Brian was already standing in front of the house, his muscular frame blocking the doorway, his eyes scanning the place. His face was set, and he didn’t say a word as he motioned for me to stay back.
I could see the tension in his jaw. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but I could feel the rage radiating off him.
“I’m going in,” Brian said, his voice low. He turned toward the door, his eyes narrowing. “Stay behind me.”
I nodded, though my heart was already hammering in my chest. We both moved toward the door together, and Brian raised his leg, kicking it open with one swift motion.
The first thing I heard was Tyler’s sobs—weak and fragile—coming from the back of the house.
“Tyler!” I called, my voice raw.
“Shut up!” Brad’s voice came from the hallway, just ahead of us. “Stay the hell out of this!”
I didn’t hesitate. I pushed past Brian, who grabbed my arm just in time to stop me from charging ahead.
“Not yet,” Brian whispered urgently. “Let me take the lead.”
But I could already hear Tyler calling my name. I could already feel his pain.
“Tyler!” I shouted again, ignoring Brian’s grip. “Tyler, where are you?”
I ran into the living room, and there, in the corner, I saw him—my son—sitting on the floor, clutching his arm. He looked up at me with tear-streaked cheeks, his face pale, eyes wide with fear.
“Daddy,” Tyler whimpered. “It hurts so bad. Please make it stop.”
I dropped to my knees beside him, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces as I touched his arm. It was swollen, bruised, and blood was already beginning to drip from the gash where Brad had struck him.
“Tyler, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, kissing his forehead.
Brian stepped forward then, his voice calm and controlled. “Brad,” he said, his voice carrying over the tension. “You’ve made your choice. You’ve hurt a child. And I don’t care how big you are. I don’t care how strong you are. You’re going down.”
Brad appeared from the hallway, his face contorted in anger. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” he spat, stepping toward us. “You think you can just waltz in here and act like you’re the goddamn hero? I’m not afraid of you.”
I was afraid for him.
Brian stepped forward, his eyes cold as ice, and the moment Brad tried to take a swing at him, Brian caught his arm and twisted it behind his back with a practiced maneuver. Brad dropped to his knees with a grunt.
“You’re done,” Brian growled, holding Brad’s arm behind him in a painful lock.
Brad struggled, but Brian’s grip was unrelenting.
“I’ll make sure you never hurt anyone again,” Brian added, his voice low and dangerous.
I knelt next to Tyler, pulling him into my arms, my heart breaking as he cried against my chest. “It’s over, baby,” I whispered. “It’s over.”
Brad’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t try to fight anymore. He was pinned. He was done.
