“A man who leaves a baby on the side of the road does not love her. He didn’t care enough to raise her. She’s my child. He has no right to her. He sold her for a few hundred bucks. That’s the kind of man he was. A man who left his child for dead.”

Cody’s eyelids flew open.

“Felicity, she was never yours to begin with. Legally, you stole her! Don’t you realize you’re no better? You could have gone through proper channels. You could have helped his family. Instead you took her, lied to her, and played mom all this time. Bennett was her biological father. She had a right to know the truth. That’s all Bennett wanted to give her.”

“Are you serious right now? You’re going to side with a total stranger over your family?” Oliver stepped in, physically and verbally closing in on Cody.

I angled myself between them. We weren’t getting anywhere with this. “Guys, I don’t want to fight. I just want to find Vera. Did Marin mention where else they could be? With another relative?”

“No, Marin’s mom died and there were no other relatives that she knew of.” Another dead end.

“What now? How do we find out where Vera’s hiding?” Oliver stomped to the window. “We could have brought her home months ago…” Then he pivoted back around, his hands balled and eyes filled with fury. “And it’s your fault that my daughter is still out there with a man none of us can find!”

It all happened so fast. One moment Oliver was standing by the window, the next he lunged at Cody, tipping the chair over and tossing Cody to the floor. Oliver fell atop Cody’s chest and pinned his upper arms with his knees. He whaled on his brother in a blind rage, landing savage hooks to his cheeks and jaw with alternating fists. Cody squirmed fruitlessly under Oliver’s weight, forearms flailing, groaning as the punches rocked his head back and forth. I screamed to drown out the sickeningly moist thud of bone smacking flesh.

“Stop! Please, Oliver, you’re going to kill him!”

But Oliver only heard whatever voice in his head urged him on. I leapt on his back, pushing and pulling at him, but he flung me off as if I were a feather. The beatdown went on.

With sudden superhuman strength, I grabbed Oliver’s shoulders and yanked him off. Cody lay deathly still; he looked like he’d gone three rounds with Mike Tyson. Oliver sprawled against the overturned chair, panting and absently massaging one bruised hand with the other as light and reason slowly returned to his smoldering eyes.

“I can’t take this anymore. I’m turning myself in!”

Oliver’s heavy breaths stopped. He pushed himself to his feet. Blustered to the door. And never looked back.

The Pittsburg Press

The Pittsburg Press