Chapter 1 - The Arrival of the Iron Guards
The city bus groaned as it pulled away from the hospital curb,
leaving behind the smell of exhaust and the fading image of Jasper’s black SUV,
which was now weaving through traffic toward a high-end restaurant.
I sat near the front,
my eyes fixed on the vibrating floorboards,
trying to breathe through the waves of fire radiating from my midsection.
Toby shifted in his sleep,
letting out a tiny,
bird-like whimper that made my heart ache with a protective ferocity I had never known.
The passenger sitting across from me,
an elderly woman with a grocery bag,
looked at my hospital bracelet and then at my pale face with a mixture of pity and shock.
I didn't want her pity,
nor did I want the curious stares of the other riders who wondered why a woman with a newborn was traveling alone on public transit.
My phone was still warm against my ear from the call to my father,
a call that had effectively ended the charade of my ordinary life.
Suddenly,
the bus driver let out a surprised huff and slammed on the brakes,
sending a jolt through my body that made me hiss in pain.
Outside the window,
three blacked-out Suburbans had swerved in front of the bus,
forcing it to a halt in the middle of a busy intersection.
The passengers began to murmur,
craning their necks to see what was happening as several men in charcoal suits stepped out of the vehicles.
They moved with military precision,
their earpieces glinting in the afternoon sun,
completely ignoring the angry honks of the cars behind them.
One man,
whom I recognized as Marcus,
my father’s head of security,
walked straight toward the bus doors.
The driver opened them with trembling hands,
stuttering out a question that Marcus ignored as he stepped onto the bus.
He scanned the rows of seats until his eyes landed on me,
and his expression immediately softened into one of deep concern.
"Ms. Robertson,"
he said,
his voice deep and steady,
"your father has sent us to bring you home."
The entire bus went silent,
the word 'Robertson' rippling through the crowd like a shockwave.
Marcus reached out to take the diaper bag,
while two other men formed a protective corridor from the bus steps to the middle Suburban.
I stood up slowly,
cradling Toby against my chest,
feeling the eyes of the world on me as I stepped off that bus and into a different reality.
As they helped me into the plush leather interior of the car,
I saw a nurse from the hospital watching from the sidewalk,
her mouth hanging open.
I didn't look back at the bus,
nor did I think about the man who thought I was worth exactly two dollars in change.
"Take me to the penthouse,"
I told Marcus,
settling into the seat as a medical professional in the back of the car began to check my vitals.
"And Marcus,"
I added,
my voice turning cold,
"find out which restaurant Jasper is at."
May you like
"I want the bill for his lunch sent directly to his personal account,"
"along with the repossession notice for the SUV."
