Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 162

We're at the police station for a long, long time before we get any hint of what's going on.

Since we're not under arrest, I'm allowed to sit with Daniel in an uncomfortable grey chair in the lobby, with lots of cops' eyes on us. We don't say much, even though Daniel takes my hand and holds it tight. His lawyer - our lawyer, I guess - shows up about forty-five minutes later and stands stolidly next to us.

"Say nothing," he snaps, staring straight ahead. "They want you for questions, but you don't have to say a god damn thing. If you say anything it all, your only answer is 'I can't recall.' Got it?"

"Yeah," Daniel replies, but I just nod my head, too tired and overwhelmed and exhausted to do anything more.

Jerome didn't come in with us. He was taken, with a lot of Kent's other men, to the other part of the station to be booked.

"Why didn't we get arrested?" I ask after a long while of silence.

"Because we didn't do anything, Fay," Daniel sighs. "They don't have any crimes to arrest us for."

"Enough," the lawyer snaps. So we both clam up.

The minutes drip past. And all I can do in that time is...speculate. About what happened. About whether Kent is alive or dead.

Unconsciously, my hand drifts to my stomach and rests there. And when I notice where I put it, I don't pull it away.

We're still sitting in those chairs at what must be one or two in the morning when we finally find out what's taking so long. And, unsurprisingly, it's Ivan that breaks the news. "Where is he," Ivan snaps, striding across the room to us, several detectives at his back.

Daniel and I look up at him confused. Ivan, still in his bulletproof NYPD vest and his face as stern as it was before, just glares at us, waiting.

"What are you talking about?" Daniel sighs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He's not even being defiant, I know. He's just exhausted.

"Kent!" Ivan snaps, glaring at us. "We didn't see him leave. We didn't find him in the house. We know that place he built is full of little rat holes to hide in - so where is he?"

My mouth falls open. "You - you didn't find Kent?"

Ivan just glares at me and shifts his eyes to Daniel as Daniel starts to laugh.

"What?" Ivan snaps.

"He's not in the house," he says, smirking.

"How do you know that?"

"Marco DeBrassi," Daniel says, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, still smirking up at Ivan. "Did you find him in the house?"

"No," Ivan says, his eyes narrowing as he studies Daniel. "DeBrassi left hours before the raid - he was alone in the car."

"Which car?" Daniel asks.

"Escalade," Ivan answers, fast. "Black."

"Yeah, whatever." Daniel says, laughing a little, smirking at Ivan as he leans further back in his chair. "Marco is dad's driver. If you think dad let Marco take the escalade out for a joy ride, alone..." Daniel starts to laugh harder, shaking his head at Ivan like the fool he is. "You had a full perimeter on the house, didn't you? And you let Marco out, but you didn't check the back seat..."

Daniel's laughter fills the room now.

Ivan lets out a long string of curses, turning and kicking hard at one of the metal chairs that fill the waiting room. It skitters across the floor, falling on its side.

I stare at Daniel as Ivan and the detectives walk away, apparently needing to go back to the drawing board.

"Is that true?" I whisper to Daniel. "Did he did he leave the house? How did you know?"

"Because," Daniel whispers back to me, low enough that not even the lawyer can hear, "do you seriously think dad's just going to hang around, Fay, sulking, the minute he finds out you're pregnant and he could be the father?"

My eyes go wide as I figure it out. "No," I whisper back, shaking my head. "He - he'd want answers." "Exactly," Daniel murmurs.

He went to a doctor, I think, my mind whirring. Or a clinic, to get his s***m tested. But which one? "Enough of that," the lawyer scolds, stepping closer to us. "I'm serious, kids. Not another word." And so we shut up, both of us sitting waiting, wondering. When will they catch Kent?

Or...will they? At all?

Kent sits in a chair in the doctor's main office, his head hanging low, his arms crossed across his chest. Marco dozes in the chair next to him.

For the third time, the doctor peeks his head in through the door. "Are you...sure you wouldn't like to come into the house, Mr. Lippert?" he asks quietly. "You'll be more comfortable in here."

Kent just shakes his head.

It's not that he's actually comfortable...he just. There's no reason to move.

He is not going anywhere until he gets the word back from the lab. And considering that they paid an exorbitant amount of money to convince the lab workers to process his specimen immediately and provide them with the results as soon as possible... It could be any minute.

The doctor sighs and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Kent doesn't even turn on the light, preferring to just sit in the dark.

Which is how he notices the flashing blue and red lights driving down the road.

Kent's head instantly snaps up, his body tense as he watches the lights grow brighter, grow closer. No sirens - which means the cops aren't in any hurry.

Which means...

The lights grow so bright that Kent knows they're just outside of the house now. But they don't dim. They're not passing by.

"Marco," Kent snaps, jumping to his feet. Marco is slow to wake so Kent grabs his arm, hauling him to his feet.

Marco looks around, confused. "What?" he murmurs, but Kent just shakes his head, listening carefully, as hard as he can.

There's movement outside - Kent's eyes flick to the window, where he sees dark figures running across the lawn, keeping low to avoid being seen. Men in black tactical gear - a swat team.

They're surrounding the doctor's house.

"Fuck," Kent breathes, and then his head snaps towards the office door when he hears beyond it, in the house, a pounding on the front door. "Shit."

They are here for him, he knows it. But how the f**k did they know where he went?

Kent hears a door open in the house, and then the pounding of feet rushing towards them.

"On your knees, Marco!" Kent shouts, dropping to his own, throwing his hands in the air above his head. He knows - knows that this is it, that they've got him surrounded. That if he runs, he'll be dead before he even hears the crack of a gun. "Hands UP!" Just - just as Marco sinks to his knees - as his hands barely reach for the ceiling - the door to the office slams open and they flood in -

It's chaos instant chaos - all at once-

A body hits Kent, hard, taking him down to the floor, but Kent doesn't respond, doesn't resist.

Don't give them any reason to hurt you, he remembers his father whispering to him the day the other family came to kill him. Just stay still - let them do what they want. If you move, they'll kill you too.

The advice rings as true now as it did then.

A punch hits Kent hard in the face and he groans, flinching away, but he doesn't retaliate, even though every bone in him wants to tear these guys apart. Instead, Kent goes limp until they start barking orders at him, and then he does everything they say. Everything. Kent rolls over, puts his hands behind his back when he's bid to. He lets himself be cuffed and he watches Marco go through the same process with impassive eyes. It's not like he can do anything to help him anyway.

Kent doesn't do anything more than breathe when they pull him to his feet and march him through the doctor's house, past the doctor's scandalized wife and two high-school age children. The doctor is the last one he sees, standing gaping at the red front door as the police work to escort him through it.

Then, and only then, does Kent resist. He stops dead in his tracks, holding the doctor's eye as the cops holding him work to tug him along. "The results," Kent says, staring hard at the doctor and ignoring the men with guns. "You'll keep them for me?"

"I'm still your doctor, Mr. Lippert," the man says, raising his chin. "I will keep the results for when you are ready."

Kent tries to nod but he doesn't have time - something hits him - hard - across the back-

He hisses in pain and stumbles forward. The cops get a better grip, hauling him along, but Kent doesn't protest anymore. He got the answer he wanted. Now, he knows, he's in their hands.

Fuck, he thinks, ducking his head as the police force him into the back of the police car. The lab was going to call...any minute. Any god damn minute. Kent curses the NYPD's timing as the police car begins to pull away with him locked securely in the back seat.