Chapter 10 - The Phone Call
That brought me back to where the story began: sitting on the cold bench in the police station, my lip split, my face bruised, staring at the plastic phone on the counter.
Officer Miller dialed the number I had given him. He held the receiver to his ear, listening to the rings.
"She answered," Miller said, looking at me with confusion. "She says she's on her way."
Twenty minutes later, the front glass doors of the police station opened.
Eleanor Hargrove walked into the booking area. She was still wearing her wet coat, her dark hair damp from the Atlantic rain outside. She carried no money, no high-priced legal team, and no corporate influence.
Yet when she walked into that sterile police station, every officer in the room stopped talking.
She walked straight past the front desk, ignoring Officer Miller's attempt to stop her, and came to a halt directly in front of me.
She looked at my split lip, my bruised face, and my bloody knuckles. Her eyes filled with quiet, fierce grief.
"Look at you, Lucas," she whispered, pulling a tissue from her pocket and gently dabbing at the dried blood on my jaw. "You always try to take the blows for everyone else."
"I couldn't stop them, Eleanor," I rasped, tears finally spilling down my cheeks, washing clean lines through the dirt on my skin. "Dad fired you. Caleb is locked in his room. He's going to send us away to boarding schools in Europe. He's going to destroy us."
Eleanor placed both her hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look directly into her steady, unshakeable dark eyes.
"Listen to me, Lucas Cavanaugh," she said, her voice clear and ringing with absolute authority. "Your father owns the ships. He owns the buildings. He owns the lawyers. But he does not own you. He does not own your brothers. And as long as I am breathing, I will not let him take your souls."
Officer Miller stepped forward, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Miss Hargrove... Mr. Julian Cavanaugh's legal team has already filed paperwork to take custody of the boy. You have no legal standing here."
Eleanor turned around slowly, looking at Officer Miller.
"I have the standing of the person he called when he was broken, Officer," she said coldly. "Now release his intake cuffs, or I will call every news anchor in this state and give them the full transcript of what happened at St. Jude's tonight."
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Miller swallowed hard, looking at the bruised Cavanaugh heir, then at the fearless young woman standing before him.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the silver key, and unlocked my wrists.
