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Beauty and the Blitz(266)

By´╝ÜSosie Frost


I wasn’t a good man. I wasn’t a role model. But goddamn it, I thought I could be a good father.

A good husband.

If I had the chance. If Leah gave me a chance and the damn world cut me a fucking break, I’d prove to everyone that Jack Carson wasn’t some bastard who only wanted a quick fuck, fast cars, and no responsibilities. Nothing sounded better to me than a night spent rocking my baby to sleep in my arms as I watched the late night sport highlights.

I laid on the horn and passed another idiot going under the speed limit in the left lane. Ten minutes lost. It felt like ten days. I was too late to get ahold of Leah. She didn’t answer her phone, and I hoped that meant she was already with a doctor and not…

Not that she couldn’t answer her phone for whatever reason.

This was bullshit. I forced the car faster and raced the highway itself, slowing only so I didn’t break my neck skidding off the ramp and into the city. The hospital was less than a mile away, but the instant I peeled onto Hayes Street, red and blue lights flashed in my mirror.

The police cruiser whistled his siren and pulled behind my bumper.

This wasn’t happening.

“Fuck…not now!” I slammed a hand against the wheel. Hurt myself. That was all we needed. Broken fingers with speeding tickets, leaving Leah alone in the hospital, terrified for herself and the baby and…

I couldn’t stop for the cop.

But if I ran?

At least Leah would know exactly where I was when the hospital TVs showed coverage of the high speed chase with the headline Jack-ass Carson – Still At Large After Fucking Everything Up.

I couldn’t put Leah through that, not while she was already in pain. How long could a stop possibly take? A minute? Two?

“Hang on, Kiss.” I pulled over. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

The lights flashed, repeatedly, but the officer didn’t haul his lazy ass out of the car. The minute I surrendered to the law instead of Leah passed. So did the second. The third.

I tore through the glove box and found the insurance and registration. My driver’s license bent in my hand. He still didn’t get out of the fucking car. I’d have handed him my entire checkbook and offered a bribe for every asshole in the precinct if it meant getting back on the road.

The instant the officer moved, I knew I was fucked.

I watched in the mirror as his thick boot struck against the ground. The cinders and road debris crumbled under his feet. He already knew who he caught. Pretty sure he ran my plates and got a hard-on just thinking of how he’d torture me tonight.

He was the same cop who broke up the bar fight. He came after me first and made sure I was cuffed even though I was the only one busted up. I had the blackened eye—apparently that also meant I got the elbow to the rib and treated like some punk-ass criminal.

Officer Burke hated that the charges were dropped. Now he’d get his revenge, except he wasn’t just screwing with me. Every second he toted his ego-driven, testosterone-fueled, authority complex over me was another second Leah waited for me at the hospital.

She’d never forgive me.

What was happening to her now?

Officer Burke leaned over the Porsche and grinned, his fingertips stroking a paint that was too rich for his salary. He’d have to pull over a lot of speeders to get that promotion. He nodded at me, his thick tongue rubbing over his teeth like he prepared to feast on a steak.

Another treat too rich for a man like him.

“Jack Carson.” He snorted. “Gonna have to ask you to get out of the car.”



“I’m on the way—”

“I don’t give a flying fuck where you’re going or why. You’re speeding on my roads, causing a public disturbance again. Get your ass out of the car.”

“I’m going to the hospital.”

“You’re going to jail if you don’t get out of the goddamned car!”

Son of a—

I kicked the door open. Officer Burke hauled me behind the car and kicked at my legs. My bad knee buckled, and it gave him just the advantage he needed to slam me on the truck and frisk me like I was a damned convict.

“I have to get to the hospital!” I spat the word, deliberating too long on a profanity and simply leaving it out. My words didn’t sound any less disrespectful. “My girlfriend is—”

“You think you can do whatever the fuck you want in this city, don’t you?”

I grunted and tried to push off the car. The metal baton in his hand extended. He whacked it against my back and used the steel to keep me pinned.

Not the night to do this to me.

I could have ripped his goddamned head off if I had wanted. I didn’t need my knee, not when I had the upper body strength to wrestle away from three linebackers and still pitch a football forty yards down field in a laser strike.