Vow to Protect Read Free Page A

than art.
    What was the kid seeing? Did he notice the resemblance? The eyes they shared? The rectangular chin? Or was he just seeing the ex-con? The criminal? The man with no future?
    â€œEthan, this is Cord.”
    Ethan. His son was named Ethan.
    The boy nodded. “Hi.”
    Cord willed his voice to function. “Hi.”
    â€œCord was just leaving. And so are we.”
    He managed to tear his eyes away from Ethan and direct them to Mel. The void in his gut seemed to widen. “I’ll follow you to the police station. Make sure you get there safely.”
    She looked away. “Do what you want.”
    â€œYou’re a cop?” Ethan’s eyebrows dipped low over his eyes.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHe’s someone I knew a long time ago. That’s all.”
    Cord nodded. That was all. He’d killed the rest as surely as he’d killed Snake. As he’d killed his own future.
    Tires screeched, the sound echoing from the street.
    Cord spun around just as a police cruiser whipped into the driveway. Three cars followed. Jolting to angled stops, the cops hunkered down behind the open driver’s doors, guns drawn.
    â€œPolice!” a voice barked, deep and threatening. “Hands up! As high as you can reach! Now!”
    Cord’s mouth went dry. He raised his hands, stretching as high as he could. The familiar mix of adrenaline and humiliation tightened his throat and coated his tongue.
    Movement shifted and rustled from around the house and yard. Cops fanned out from their cars, semiautos and rifles leveled on him, Kevlar vests dark and oppressive in the early-September heat.
    A cop approached Melanie and Ethan. In less than a second, he whisked them away from Cord and out of the line of fire.
    At least they wouldn’t be hurt. Cord could focus on that.
    â€œKeep your hands above your head and slowly turn around.”
    Hands high, Cord pivoted. He turned slowly, allowing them to see he had no bulges of weapons in the waistband of his jeans, no reason to believe he was dangerous. As much as he wanted to ask why they were doing this, he kept his mouth shut. He knew how cops thought. He was an ex-con. He had nothing coming. Not even an explanation. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to egg them on by demanding one.
    â€œKeep turning.”
    He turned another 180, until he was facing back toward Melanie.
    She crossed her arms around Ethan’s chest andheld him tight, protecting him. The boy watched with wide eyes, as if he’d never seen a scene quite like this. No doubt he never had. It sure as hell wasn’t a scene from his world.
    It was a scene from Cord’s.
    â€œPut your hands on the top of your head,” the cop ordered.
    Cord did as he was told, lacing his fingers together the way he’d been taught.
    â€œDown on your knees. Take it slow.”
    Cord lowered himself. One knee and then the other hit the pavement. He didn’t have to wonder how Ethan saw him now. He just hoped it wouldn’t take the kid long to forget him.
    â€œDown on your belly. Arms away from your body. Palms facing up. Cross your ankles.”
    Cord had done this maneuver enough while in prison to perform it in his sleep. He flattened himself to the ground and crossed his legs. Cheek pressed against the hot driveway, he moved his arms wide, palms up.
    Boots scuffed the concrete around him. A hand grabbed his arm and bent it behind his back. A steel handcuff closed around his wrist. The cop grabbed his other arm, cuffing it to the first. The inflexible bands of steel bit into his wrists, bruising his flesh. Hands patted his sides and legs. Once satisfied he was clean, the cop rolled him to his side.
    â€œRise to your knees.”
    Cord struggled into a kneeling position at the cop’s feet.
    â€œCross your ankles.”
    Cord did what he was told. Why didn’t they take Melanie and Ethan away? Why didn’t they take them into the house where they didn’t have