25. Intruder🧁

After supper, Casey promised Wyatt that he could watch some of his favorite cartoons until his dad and Lani got home. It wouldn't be another hour until their shifts ended.

Casey smiled as Wyatt pet Wolf Wolf, who perched himself in his son's lap. The little brown and white Boxer puppy lapped up the attention. They sat on the floor, watching some cartoons that played on the television.

With the puppy's injured back leg, they had to be careful with how they handled him. For now, Casey wouldn't let Wyatt pick him up by himself yet until he'd had time to heal. He planned to keep him in the living room, boarding it off with his son's old baby gates so he didn't roam around the house in the middle of the night. Wyatt got his bed set up near the sofa and made sure the puppy knew where it was. They also placed a bowl of water and puppy chow out.

Casey captured a few pictures of them together to send to his dad and even saved one as his new lock screen. Sometimes he felt like he went a little overboard with the photos, but he wanted to look back on the happier memories. Especially while Wyatt was still so young.

"Can Wolf Wolf sleep in my bed? Please?" Wyatt asked.

Casey sighed. "No, he needs to get used to his own bed in here. He'll be okay. We'll make sure he's got his food, water, and toys."

Wyatt pouted. "Okay."

As Casey scrolled through his photo album of Wyatt's pictures, a sudden knock on the door startled him. The fist kept pounding, disregarding the doorbell. Casey's heart soared up into his throat as he pressed his index finger to his lips, gesturing for Wyatt to stay quiet.

Fear mounted in Wyatt's expression as he held the puppy close to his chest. His little arms trembled.

Casey scooted down off the couch, crawling closer to Wyatt. He leaned down, whispering as softly as he could muster, "Crawl to Papa's room. I'm coming with you."

"But Wolf Wolf," Wyatt whined.

"I'll bring him," Casey hissed. "Now go."

The pounding got incessant. Movement shifted over to the window, as if someone tried peeking in beyond the closed curtains. Casey's gaze darted from the doorknob rattling to his son, crawling toward the hallway. Whoever it was had no plans of letting up.

Casey was grateful that they'd changed the locks and, even more relieved, his paranoia made him close all the curtains during the night and keep everything locked up.

When Wyatt reached the hallway, Casey carefully scooped the puppy up and made his way into his father's bedroom with his son, locking the door behind him. Casey pushed his dad's nightstand up against the door, hoping it would be a decent enough barricade.

Wyatt hid behind his dad's bed, where Casey ensured he was far away from the window but not too close to the door either.

Wolf Wolf hid under the bed, confused and startled by the sudden move from the living room. If he heard someone break inside, Casey would force Wyatt under the bed as well. Casey dialed 911 as he retrieved a lock box from his father's closet. His hand trembled as he put in the combination and the mechanism clicked, revealing his mother's old guns. He pulled out a pistol and loaded it, ensuring to lock the box back up after he was done.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Someone is trying to break into our house," Casey told the operator, then gave their address. "Me and my two-year-old son are alone here."

"Is the person outside?"

"Yes." Casey swallowed the lump in his throat. "They keep knocking on the door and trying to open it. We moved to my father's bedroom, it's the third room down the hallway, on the left. Please, send backup."

"Alright, just try to stay calm. Your doors and windows are locked?"

"Yes, they're all locked. I'm worried he might try to break down the door or bust a window out," Casey explained. "This isn't the first time someone's attacked my family. I think they're back to finish the job. Oh God, please, hurry."

Wyatt sniffled on the floor, eyes brimmed with tears. It broke Casey's heart. They'd just had such a wonderful time today after bringing Wolf Wolf home. Why wouldn't those awful gang members leave their family alone? What the hell did they want?

Keeping the phone and gun close, Casey crouched down behind the bed with Wyatt. He pulled him close, wishing he could console him somehow, but even Casey failed to hide his own fear. Every incessant fist pounding on the door caused him to flinch, almost expecting the person to break it down.

When the pounding at the door stopped, an anchor of dread submerged in the pit of his stomach. Had they broken inside? Would they find them in his dad's bedroom? Casey heard nothing shatter or break. Maybe they were lucky and whoever it was had given up on them.

"I'm scared," Wyatt whimpered softly.

Casey only held him tight. He didn't want to make much noise. Not when he wasn't sure where the unwanted visitor went. It had to be the guy who tried to shoot at him that night. The ones who killed his mom and terrorized them.

Despite the vengeance that boiled in his blood, Casey knew he couldn't be reckless. No matter how much he wanted to pursue them. He needed to keep Wyatt's safety a priority. And his own.

While Casey considered stepping out to investigate, he thought better of it and waited. The police should be there soon. He kept the operator on the phone, but told her he didn't want to give their location away by talking. Silence suffocated him with each unbearable second.

Taps against the window made him freeze. Casey turned toward the closed, dark blue curtain, heart pounding against his chest as he focused on the sound of the knuckles hitting the glass. How did they find them? Had they gone to every window, waiting for a reaction?

Casey looked down at Wyatt, who remained silent in his arms. His gaze remained glued to the window. The gun wavered in Casey's hand, but he didn't loosen his grip on it. If anyone busted the window to get inside, he'd shoot them. Anything to keep Wyatt and him safe.

It had to be a fear tactic. A way to get them to give away their location. Casey wouldn't fall for the bait and let up where they hid. Maybe they wouldn't be daring enough to break inside. Or maybe they were trying to figure out if anyone was at home. Normally, Casey worked a shift at Mad Batter that night, and with no cars parked out in the driveway, anyone could've assumed nobody was at home.

Sirens echoed in the distance. Casey let momentary relief flood through him before glass shattered. Every fiber of his being tensed up as he squeezed Wyatt tighter, gaze remaining glued on the window. It wasn't the window from his dad's room that shattered.

Where the hell were they? What room did they break into?

If anyone tried to get inside their dad's bedroom, he'd shoot them. He wouldn't let those gangsters take anymore of his family away from him.

"Daddy." Wyatt whimpered, tugging on his arm. His eyes brimmed with tears.

"It'll be okay," Casey whispered softly against his ear. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Casey tried to pinpoint where the intruder might be. The glass shattering sound further away from them, likely in their living room. Was there only one or did a small group come to finish them off? Casey tried to listen over the sound of his heartbeat hammering in his head, hoping the police would get inside there soon.

Before Casey figured out where the individual was, more pounding came at the door. Then footsteps rushed inside. Someone yelled, "Freeze" and Casey tensed up.

They'd caught the guy inside their home. Someone had actually broken in. At least the police had them.

An officer called out to Casey, who recognized the voice. Detective Bailey. With unsteady legs, Casey clambered to his feet and stuffed the gun back into the safe. He wouldn't want it falling into the wrong hands. Casey sucked in a deep breath before moving the nightstand and creaking the door open, where Detective Bailey stood with his partner beside him.

"Did you catch the guy?" Casey asked.

"We did," Detective Bailey replied. "Are you and Wyatt alright?"

Casey nodded. "Just frightened. Nobody found us yet. If not for you, it would've been a matter of time."

"Would you be okay to possibly ID the guy?" His partner, Detective Lindel, asked. "We've got him in custody outside. He can't hurt you now. We took the gun he'd had on him."

"Gun?" Casey gulped. "So, he really did plan to come in here and kill us?"

"It seems like it," Detective Lindel replied.

"We're going to get him to give up his boss. From what he's said so far, he's not the one behind the hit put out on your family. He's got a viper tattoo on the side of neck as well," Detective Bailey explained. "Most likely working with the Black Vipers."

Wyatt moved close beside Casey, gripping his hand tightly as they made their way outside. Two officers stood beside the lanky man; the flashing red and blue lights of their squad cars illuminated the intruder's scowl. Casey tried to see if he recognized the unkempt man with a neck beard and a bald head. Nobody like that had come into their bakery recently and he didn't remember him from the group Veronica ran with.

"You ever seen this man before?" Detective Bailey asked. "Don't worry, no rush on ID-ing him. We can bring him down to the station for a better look if you'd like."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know him," Casey answered honestly.

"Well, he knows you and your family. My guess is he's been watching you guys for a while," Detective Lindel told him.

"He might be the guy that shot at me and August," Casey said. "I never got a good look at any of them. Do you think he'll confess to who hired him? I know gang members don't like turning on each other."

"We're going to do the best we can to get these guys," Detective Bailey told him. "I've already sent another detective to your family's bakery. Just to make sure nobody else tries to hurt them. We'll keep an officer posted outside your house again for the rest of the night."

"When will this be over?" Casey asked, desperately trying to stop the trembling in front of them. "I feel like we'll be living in fear for the rest of our lives. Can't you do more to keep us safe?"

A sympathetic smile touched Detective Bailey's lips. "I'm sorry, Casey. We're doing what we can, but I understand how frightened you are. Is it possible that you and your family could lie low elsewhere for a while?"

"Where would we go?" Casey frowned. "Our bakery is our primary source of income right now, and we're already short a thousand dollars from when our father paid that ransom demand."

"It was just a suggestion. Until things cooled off," Detective Lindel added.

"How long would it take?" Casey asked. "Not to be rude, but it doesn't seem like you've made much progress in my mom's case, nor have you done well at keeping us safe. Someone just tried to kill me again. This time in my home with my son."

All the detectives could offer were their sympathies with empty promises of catching the guys. Casey knew it would be best if he could flee town. But he couldn't do that to his father and Lani. They needed to stick together.

If Casey took Wyatt and left town only to learn later that gangsters killed his dad and sister, he'd never forgive himself.