AU BigBang Fic: Shades of the Past , chapter 1

[cloversworld]

Title: SHADES OF THE PAST, Chapter 1/5
Author/ Artist: clover71
Fandom: BelAmi Online
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I -




‘Your daughter has been kidnapped’ were the words that bounced around Dolph Lambert’s head. He’d been horror-stricken the moment these words sank in, leaving him staring vacantly for what must have been a good part of the hour.

“Mr. Lambert?”

Dolph blinked. He half-heartedly glanced around the room.

Police officers were meandering about – some in uniforms, some were in civilian clothes but had badges bearing the local police department’s insignia hanging from the chains around their necks. Hissing noises and shrill voices that crackled from handheld radios sliced through the atmosphere that had gone thick with apprehension. The burst of activities triggered by the shocking news had blown into chaotic proportion.

A man sat across from him and Dolph cringed inwardly upon meeting his reproachful gaze. Questions were thrown at him one after another, making Dolph’s head spin. It was then he remembered that the man was a police detective. He rummaged through the back of his mind, trying to recall his name. Detective Marc Vidal, he thought.

One thing he didn’t fail to notice was how the man hadn’t shown any hint of congeniality from the moment he’d walked through Dolph’s front door. Now Detective Vidal was making Dolph feel like he was the criminal that had been subjected to a burning interrogation. Everything the detective had uttered, though coherent, passed through Dolph like a breeze, remnants of it barely stuck in his mind.

“Have you noticed anything suspicious lately? Or have you received any threats?” were among the hundred questions raised and he just simply shook his head in response. “Have you been in a fight or an argument recently?” The detective went on, his tone hard-edged and demanding. “Is there someone here who knows your family background?”

Dolph’s gaze sprang back to Detective Vidal who seemed to be observing him like he was some sort of rare artifact; deep-set eyes bore into him. He found it quite difficult to lie for some reason so he decided to play ignorant instead. “H-how did—what exactly do you m-mean?”

Then something he hadn’t thought possible occurred – Detective Vidal’s face softened. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lambert. But one of the standard procedures in cases like this is to do background check on the victim’s family. That way it would be easier to narrow down the list of possible suspects.”

“Oh.” Dolph’s mind was too exhausted to come up with a perfect cover-up. But lying about his family background was no longer an open option since his daughter’s life was on the line.

“So…” Vidal shifted on his seat, bringing one leg over his knee. “Does anyone here know who your father is?”

Without thinking much about what the detective meant, Dolph shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.” His mind drifted to his past. A past he’d worked so hard to tuck away deep into the dark corners of his mind. “Just my cousin Luke and his boyfriend Josh.”

Detective Vidal nodded and scribbled on his small notebook. “If you don’t mind then, I’m sending a couple of my men over to bring them in for questioning.” He went on explaining how it was likewise standard procedure and Dolph couldn’t bring himself to care what they did as long as it would help find his daughter. Fast. He gave Luke’s address and watched as Detective Vidal muttered instructions to one of the cops in uniform.

The interrogation went on and on, stretching minutes to hours and Dolph was on the brink of losing his patience. Chancing a glance at the clock, he made a mental note that another ten minutes had passed. Five more questions were asked. And Dolph could no longer bite his tongue, so… “Am I expected to just sit here and do nothing? I should be out there looking for my daughter.”

“Would you know exactly where to look?” Vidal might have meant to sound sarcastic, but he had a point as well. Fairfield may not be a huge town but it wasn’t small either. And logically, the kidnappers would certainly not stick around the area where they could easily be tracked.

With his shoulders sagging in defeat, Dolph shook his head. “I feel useless,” he muttered, more to himself.

“I could only imagine how you feel. I have a five-year-old daughter myself.” The change in Vidal’s feature was only momentary but it made Dolph shed a layer of wall around him. “Do you know anyone in the past who could possibly seek revenge on you?” The detective’s tone was back in that resolute manner and Dolph wasn’t sure why it sounded confusing but he just looked at Vidal blankly. “Bitter rivals, angry ex-girlfriends?”

“I’m gay.” The words slipped out of Dolph’s mouth on impulse, and the detective looked up from his notebook with a raised eyebrow.

“O…kay,” the man said, drawing the word out like he was fumbling for his next question. “How ‘bout ex-boyfriends?”

At the mention of ‘ex-boyfriends’, the image of the man that was once the center of Dolph’s life flashed momentarily in his head. No, it couldn’t be… not possible was all Dolph could think and it was quite a struggle to shake the image off.

“Mr. Lambert?”

Dolph lifted his eyes. The way the detective looked at him clearly told Dolph that he was waiting for a response. He shook his head. “No. None comes to mind.”

“Is the child—“ Detective Vidal paused and seemed to be considering his next words carefully. The leg that was resting on his knee slid down as he sat up then cleared his throat before saying, “Is she biologically yours?” His voice was low, sounding wary and calculated. Eyes fixated on Dolph obstinately, as if he was gauging Dolph’s reaction.

“Of course” was Dolph’s quick response without faltering. He initially thought it was an absurd thing to ask but when Detective Vidal leaned forward, he had a feeling he knew where this inquiry would lead up to.

True to his instincts, the detective did ask, “Where’s the child’s mother?”

It was a usual question Dolph had been asked a hundred times and he had a fabricated story he’d often use to cover up the truth. But judging from the current situation, lies were not an option.

“The-there is no mother.” The truth wasn’t that easy to convey, after all, so Dolph naturally stammered. “I’m… I uhm…” Damn, spit it out and get this over with. “I w-was the one who carried and gave birth to her.” A sigh of relief or held breath escaped him.

The bewildered expression that masked the detective’s face was a reaction Dolph was quite used to. Not that many people knew about his nature. He was grateful, however, when Vidal didn’t fuss over the topic. The wordless minutes left him to dwell on the current predicament though.

Dolph’s eyes sought out anything he could focus on. Anything that might give him a clue that all this was nothing but a dream, that he’d soon wake up and find his daughter safely tucked in her bed.

Never, in the last three years of his life, did Dolph expect something horrible like this would come crashing into him like an avalanche. There wasn’t anything remarkable about his way of living to attract anyone’s interest. His life had been nothing but a simple, boring routine – working a few hours in a day and being a dedicated single father for the rest of it.

“The babysitter’s story checks out, we managed to speak to several witnesses,” a voice broke through Dolph’s reverie. One of the uniformed cops was speaking to Detective Vidal.

“I guess we can take her out of the suspect list,” Detective Vidal stated while he scribbled on his small notebook that he’d been holding since he stepped into Dolph’s home. “Thanks Alex. Let me know if you come up with anything new.”

“Suspect list?” The idea of the old baby sitter being a suspect on the kidnapping sounded preposterous. “You mean Mrs. Keener is a suspect?” Dolph raised the query with utmost incredulity.

“Was… a suspect,” the detective corrected. “At this point, Mr. Lambert, everyone can be a suspect,” he added, his voice back to being hardened and impassive.

“But she’s…” Dolph paused, realizing he didn’t know how old his daughter’s baby sitter was. “What? Fifty? Sixty years old? And she’s been my daughter’s babysitter for three years. Since she was a baby. How could she possibly be involved?”

“Well.” Detective Vidal tapped the tip of the pen on his chin. “There was the possibility she could be a mastermind. Or informant. Luckily, we’ve just proven that she’s unlikely to be involved in any way.”

“Dolph?” The babysitter in question walked in, her eyes bloodshot from crying. Her hands, which were still clutching on his little girl’s blanket, were visibly shaking. “I—“ She sucked in a breath and her shoulders shook before she broke into sobs.

Dolph sprang from his seat and rushed over to the babysitter’s side. “Cora, please.” She easily fell into his embrace, burying her face into his chest. He wasn’t entirely sure what to say. It would be ironic that he would pacify the woman while he himself was having an internal breakdown.

“Uh-I… I should’ve been m-more careful,” she said in between sobs. “I-it was my fault, I’m s-sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Please don’t say that,” Dolph coaxed, apparently finding the situation ironic since he was equally devastated. It was his daughter that had been snatched from her nanny’s arms for fuck’s sake.

“Dolph, what hap—“ His cousin, Luke Hamill, walked in with his boyfriend in tow. Words died down from Luke’s lips when his eyes fell on Dolph. And Dolph wondered if he looked lurid enough to make his cousin gaze at him with intense worry. “Why were these cops asking me if I’ve seen Lexie?”

Seconds, maybe minutes, hung without anyone uttering a single peep before Dolph found the courage to enunciate the words that he wore heavy in his heart. “Lexie’s been,” he started before drawing in a sharp, painful breath, as if he’d run out of air, “Lexie’s been kidnapped, Luke.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Dolph felt he had just released the remaining strength that kept him on his feet. With weakened, shaky knees, he took a couple of strides toward the nearest chair and sank on it. Saying what exactly had happened to his daughter seemed like an acknowledgment on his part, which meant that he had finally accepted this was all real.

“Oh God.” Luke slid on the chair’s arm and wrapped his arm around Dolph’s shoulders, pulling Dolph against his side.

“She was snatched from Mrs. Keener while they were taking their usual walk at the park this morning,” Dolph explained wearily. There were so many ‘shouldn’t haves’ that he could rally on but he had no strength left to express regret. Besides, he hadn’t known what would happen so he couldn’t have thought twice about attending a meeting with a potential client.

“The kidnappers might have been observing you for days, learning your routine ” was what Officer Vidal had said earlier when Dolph told him there wasn’t anything different from their activities that day.

The most baffling thing was, the kidnappers seemed to know when to move in without being detected. A ransom letter was found in Dolph’s mailbox during a thorough search around the perimeter. And none of the neighbors could claim they had seen anyone lurking around Dolph’s property. The letter contained specific instructions including the amount Dolph was required to surrender in exchange for his daughter’s life.

With Luke and Josh around, the investigator at least had someone to divert his attention to and bombard with basically the same rattling questions. Dolph needed a break from what seemed now was a pointless interrogation. It was short-lived though when the detective turned back to him, this time with questions that were more sensitive and personal.

“You said earlier that you had her yourself?” Detective Vidal sounded dubious but he pushed through with whatever he meant to say. Just for the sake of responding, Dolph lowered and raised his head slowly to confirm. “Where is her other father then?” This was what Dolph dreaded.

He should have seen it coming. The only honest answer he could give was “I don’t know,” which was the same response he gave when Vidal asked where they could find him, where he lived or something to that effect.

“I think I know someone who does.” It was Josh who spoke up and all heads turned to him.

“You do?” Luke asked skeptically.

“Yeah.” Josh narrated how their common friend, Kris Evans, ran into Brandon in Manhattan not too long ago. So Josh pulled out his phone and called Kris to ask if he knew how to contact Dolph’s ex-fiancé.

They all watched Josh nod and mutter “uhuh” every now and then. A bolt of anxiety coursed through Dolph’s body when Josh grabbed a notepad from a nearby desk, borrowed Officer Vidal’s pen and began scribbling.

When the call ended, Josh tore the sheet of paper from the bundle and handed it to the detective. “Here. I hope this helps.”


=====


The typical construction site noises were muffled as soon as the trailer’s door was shut close. Brandon Manilow removed his hard hat and wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand.

“What is it Tracy?” He asked his personal assistant the moment he walked into the inner office.

“These people are here to see you, Mr. Manilow,” Tracy said, gesturing to the two men seated on the couch.

Both men stood as if on cue and one spoke, “Mr. Manilow,” while he reached into his back pocket. The man pulled out a black leather-looking case and flipped it open to show a steel badge bearing the insignia of the local police department. “I’m Detective Tommy Hansen.” Then he gestured over to the other man beside him. “This is my partner Detective Yves Carradine. We were hoping we could have a word with you.”

Apprehension gripped on Brandon’s guts, not that he was guilty of any crime but was more worried that one of his men might. He could feel creases on his forehead forming. “What’s this about?”

“I was actually hoping we could speak in private.” The detective’s eyes roamed around the room where only Brandon’s secretary and two of his architects and the police detectives were present.

Brandon couldn’t help but narrow his eyes while he contemplated whether to concede to the request, but he figured if he refused then he would certainly create a negative impression.

“Sure,” Brandon finally acquiesced, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug and took a few steps towards the door leading to his small private office. “So what do you guys wanna know?”

It was Detective Carradine who pushed the door closed behind him. “We just have a few questions to ask. We hope you don’t mind.”

“If I do mind, will it stop you from asking?” Brandon settled on his plush chair and asked the two men to take their seats as well.

“Honestly? No” was Detective Hansen’s response and the hardened façade he wore since Brandon laid eyes on him was somehow alleviated. He flashed Brandon a smile, one that looked menacing rather than friendly.

Of course, Brandon was quick to get the message and he knew the detective wasn’t up for playing games. Brandon was just glad that his brain-to-mouth filter was working at the time so he was able to swallow any snide remarks that were swirling around his head.

Detective Hansen began firing questions pertaining to Brandon’s whereabouts earlier that day.

“I was at a meeting with a client” was Brandon’s response and he nodded in confirmation when the detective returned with “all morning?” Brandon was compelled to give brief details about the meeting but decided to withhold information when he was asked to provide the names of the people he was with. “If I may ask, why are you interested to know who I met with? I feel rather uncomfortable disclosing confidential matters unless you give me a valid reason.”

“We just want to make sure your alibi checks out,” Detective Hansen explained and he leaned back on his seat, obviously waiting for Brandon to spill out the details they were practically demanding.

“Why would I need an alibi?” The apprehension churning inside him was threatening to erupt now that he’d established the fact that he was the one in the hot seat and this had nothing to do with any of his employees. He quickly dug into the deep recesses of his mind for any possible criminal act, even as little as neglecting parking tickets, that he might have done but he couldn’t come up with any.

“You’re actually a suspect to a kidnapping, Mr. Manilow.” If Detective Hansen didn’t look so serious, Brandon would’ve laughed and thought this was all a practical joke.

“Kidnapping? Who the fuck’s been kidnapped?” Now this sparked Brandon’s curiosity and instead of feeling infuriated, he began to worry. Someone he probably knew might be the victim, and he hoped to God it wasn’t any of his family.

“I’ll let you know once I have your story validated,” Detective Hansen stated resolutely. Brandon seemed to have been left with no choice but to concede to the detective’s request. After he’d given the names of the people he was with early that day, Detective Carradine stepped out of the room.

It was a bit uncomfortable being left inside the small room alone with Detective Hansen. The other police detective appeared to be more genial and he seemed to diffuse any discomfort that Detective Hansen caused.

“Are you ever gonna tell me what this is all about?” Brandon did not bother hiding his now growing annoyance.

The detective’s lips thinned and stretched into a mischievous smirk. “Patience, Mr. Manilow. Patience.”

It felt like a lifetime before Detective Carradine returned to Brandon’s office. “Well,” he began, pulling the seat across from Detective Hansen, “your story checked out. I’ve spoken with all the people whose names you’ve given and they did confirm where you were.” He turned his gaze to his partner. “He’s definitely covered until two this afternoon.

“But that doesn’t get him off the hook yet.” Detective Hansen leaned on Brandon’s table. “You may not have done it yourself, Mr. Manilow. But we couldn’t ignore the possibility that you could be an accomplice or a mastermind even, and had someone else snatch the Lambert kid for you.”

“Accomplice? What the fuck? Why in the world —“ Something in Detective Hansen’s words suddenly struck a chord. “Wait. Did you say Lambert kid?” The detective’s nod barely registered. Tide of memories from a past he’d practically closed his doors on suddenly engulfed him. Dolph, he thought. Much as he didn’t want to be reminded of the man who had ripped his heart apart, a tinge of concern surfaced. “Oh God. You mean Dolph’s been kidnapped?”

“I’m sorry?” Detective Hansen tilted his head, his eyebrows meeting at the center.

“Dolph? You said the Lambert kid was snatched.” It was only then Brandon wondered whether it was Dolph they were referring to. But who else could it be? Dolph was the only Lambert kid he knew and his father couldn’t possibly be the kid Hansen meant.

But the detective shook his head. “No, Brandon. Mind if I call you Brandon?” When Brandon told him it was fine, Detective Hansen carried on. “It wasn’t Dolph Lambert who had gone missing. It was…” He paused and drew his eyebrows together. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

=====



‘Surprised’ would have been somewhat an understatement; a milder reaction to the news and what struck Brandon was beyond the categories of ‘surprised’. Too shocked to speak, he hadn’t said a word since they left Pittsburgh. His brain was rather busy trying to form something out of the thousand thoughts floating inside his head.

Dolph has a daughter.

When Detective Hansen revealed that it was Dolph’s daughter who had been abducted, the wheels in Brandon’s head started spinning. It seemed that the detective had more to say but he obviously held back when he stated, “I don’t think I’m in the position to disclose any other information,” which left Brandon utterly intrigued.

The scene played back in Brandon’s head. The police detective stood at a corner of Brandon’s office when he made a call. But Brandon could still hear him utter, “I don’t think he knows” and “what do I do?” Everything else had been a blur.

Brandon did, however, recalled agreeing to go with the detective but whether he was informed where their destination would be, he couldn’t remember. He shook himself out of his musing and for the first time since they started the long drive, he began to pay heed to the road signs that stood every few meters along the side of the highway. He blinked when he saw one that read: ‘Welcome to Fairfield’.

Fairfield. Fairfield. Brandon’s mind struggled to get a grip on why the place sounded familiar. He was certain he hadn’t been there before. But something about the name of the place seemed to pull a thread off of his web of memories.

His mind once more wandered off, inevitably falling back to where his thoughts had been earlier.

Dolph has a daughter. The voice inside his head recited it like a mantra, something he needed to do so that the reality would sink in. Dolph has a daughter.

Brandon couldn’t help but wonder if he really knew Dolph well enough. As far as he could remember, between the two of them, Dolph was admittedly straight gay and wasn’t the least bit interested in women. Had he changed?

Buried deep in his own thoughts, Brandon hadn’t noticed that the vehicle had stopped until he heard the door open. Detective Hansen had stepped out and Brandon pondered if he should follow. They were parked in front of a bungalow house. A few police cars were lined along the side of the paved road. When he got out, his eyes wandered around the neighborhood, noting the simplicity and the homey atmosphere it projected.

He saw Detective Hansen saunter along the driveway where a couple of cops and two men in civilian clothes stood. It didn’t take Brandon long enough to realize that the men who weren’t wearing uniforms were not police officers at all. Brandon recognized them as Dolph’s cousin Luke and his boyfriend Josh. No wonder why Fairfield sounded familiar. Brandon remembered hearing several times that this was where Josh lived when he met him and Luke back in New York.

There was no need for Brandon to ask whom else he would find. The moment he stepped into the cozy little house his eyes immediately fell on the person sitting on the couch, hugging a stuffed animal against his chest. The young man abruptly looked up and their gazes locked. Brandon could feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage.

Despite his tear-streaked face, Dolph still looked beautiful as he remembered. And the state Dolph was in made him look vulnerable like he did at most times when they were still together. The eyes that were as blue as the deep sea were stained with streaks of red. When Dolph saw him, his eyes started to shine with unshed tears, pale lips trembled while they moved, seemingly struggling to form a word.

“Brandon.” It sounded more like someone was calling out to him in a dream when his name slipped out like a silent prayer past Dolph’s lips. And Brandon rummaged through his nearly paralyzed brain to form a response, something noteworthy to fill in the black hole that years without contact had created.

“Hey.” Brandon could just imagine how stupid he must’ve looked when he stood motionless near the door.

If Detective Hansen hadn’t said, “Maybe you’d like to take a seat,” Brandon wouldn’t have thought of moving from his spot. But he was afraid that if he dared move, the restraints that had kept his heart in place for years might break and he would fall helplessly under Dolph’s charm.

But then Dolph moved aside as if expecting Brandon to sit beside him. And Brandon could just feel the restraints melting away. He kept a good distance between him and Dolph though when he settled on the couch, and was glad that he had to divert his attention to the man who introduced himself as Detective Vidal.

The people around Brandon took turns in giving a rundown about the kidnapping, even Luke and Josh. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that Luke appeared to be indignant of his presence. Despite the details he’d gathered, there was still one thing that Brandon couldn’t fathom.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive but…” Brandon met Dolph’s eyes, hoping that his ex-fiancé would be able to give him a straightforward answer. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with me.” The pain that reflected on Dolph’s face was unbearable so Brandon had to shift his gaze over to the detectives. “I mean, how did I become a suspect in the first place?”

It was as if Brandon had chanted a spell that had rendered everyone mute. He could sense the exchanged looks between the other occupants of the room. What the fuck is going on?

“We could leave the room if you wish,” Detective Vidal told Dolph, who shook his head and with a gruff voice, had asked everyone to stay.

“I don’t even know where to start, Brandon,” Dolph said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat before he went on. “Lexie is…” His eyes darted across the room before meeting Brandon’s once more. “Lexie is your,” he paused, swiftly gliding the tip of his tongue across his upper lip before softly muttering, “she’s your daughter.”

The words were clear enough, regardless of how Dolph’s voice was almost inaudible. But it took a while for the meaning to seep into Brandon’s psyche. And among the million questions that swirled around his head, what came out was, “Can I have a glass of water?”

Brandon was half-expecting someone would just grab what he’d asked for and hand it to him, but instead, he felt a tug on his arm. He wasn’t strong enough at the time to resist so he went along and later found himself in a cramped kitchen with Luke and Josh.

“I just,” Josh began, crossing his arms against his chest. “I just don’t think any inappropriate reaction from you would help ease Dolph’s trauma at the moment.”

“Dolph’s trauma? What about my trauma?” Brandon tried his best not to raise his voice, but he couldn’t help it if his tone has somewhat taken an ascent.

It was Luke who spoke next. “I know this… this news might have come as a shock to you.”

Light laughter rippled through Brandon’s chest. “Shock, Luke? I am beyond shocked! Now quit beating around the bush and tell me how the fuck did Dolph’s daughter end up being mine.”

“Will you please just lower your voice?” Josh chastised. Both men did nothing but stare at Brandon for a while before Luke finally cleared his throat.

“Dolph has a condition.” Luke heaved a sigh and leaned against the kitchen counter. “He’s got this some sort of extra chromosomes or something. I forgot what it’s called. I’m not a medical person, you know.” He waved his hand perhaps to give emphasis to what he was saying. “To make it simple though, Dolph was born with a female uterus, he’s not a hermaphrodite because his dual reproductive system is only internal.”

This revelation reminded Brandon that Dolph did mention having imbalanced chromosomes years past. “Does this have anything to do with why he was regularly taking hormone treatment before?”

“Mhmm.” Luke nodded. “Specifically androgen treatment. The doctors claimed it would help render that single female part of him useless. But some sick substitute of his regular doctor decided to reverse the treatment and gave him some sort of fertilization thing. If I remember correctly, I think it was specifically designed to stimulate the ovaries.” Brandon gaped at Luke, who rolled his eyes and said, “Yes Brandon, Dolph has ovaries too. He told me about the time he bled, when you were at a romantic fuck away in the Bahamas. I’m sure you remember that.“

“I thought I was just being rough on him,” Brandon said thoughtfully.

Both Luke and Josh sniggered. “Of course, it was a perfect excuse,” Josh said, slightly shaking his head. “But to make the story short, that was when Lexie was conceived. By the time Dolph’s real doctor returned from his international convention, you whisked him away to Bahamas for more than a month so no one really knew what was happening to him, even Dolph himself.”

“But he left me after that.” Bitter memories had resurfaced. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He tried Brandon.” Luke’s face had turned solemn. “He tried. But he said you ignored all his attempts.”

This was all fucked up. Brandon was about to say so but then the shrill ringing of the phone – the landline phone (fuck, does anybody still use that?) – made him jolt. The first thought that rushed through him was, shit, the kidnappers. When Brandon gazed at Luke and Josh, both men might have been thinking the same thing since they both uttered “oh God” and Luke added, “That must be them. The ransom letter says they have the number here and that they would call to give more instructions.”

Dolph was clutching on the handset, earpiece pressed against his ear when Brandon, Luke and Josh returned to the living room. The cops were all on their feet, a couple of them stood by a table with what Brandon guessed was a tracking equipment on top.

A choked “yes” was all Dolph uttered repeatedly throughout the call. Then Dolph finally blurted, “Wait, I want to talk to her, please, just to make sure she’s alright.” Then Brandon watched as Dolph drew in a breath and released it a desperate “no.” He dropped the handset and fell weakly back on the couch.

When Dolph’s shoulders began to shake, Brandon found himself rushing to his side. Brandon’s arms were instantly around Dolph, pulling him close and guiding Dolph’s head over his shoulder. He felt Dolph’s hand clung tightly on his shirt as he sobbed.

“I want my baby back” were the whispered words breathed against his neck. “I want our baby back, Brandon.”

Fuck, this shit is real.

All Brandon could do was make ‘shushing’ sounds, rub circles on Dolph’s back and whisper words to assure him that they would get their baby back. And the mere fact that he’d acknowledged the little girl as their daughter bowled him over.

Once Dolph had calmed down, a man who had introduced himself as Sergeant Dano Sulik came up to them.

“Mr. Lambert,” Sgt. Sulik bent enough to level himself with Dolph, who was still clinging on Brandon’s shirt. “We now have instructions from the kidnappers.” The sergeant went on explaining that they could procure fake bills to use as ransom and rely on their confidence that they would get Dolph’s child back. “But there are risks.”

“Risks?’ Brandon quickly reacted. “What kind of risk are we talking about here?”

Sgt. Sulik pointed out that they hadn’t been in contact long enough with the kidnappers to help them determine how these felons would operate. “There are some who are wise enough to identify fake bills and it usually ended up with unpleasant encounters.”

“I-I don’t want that,” Dolph nearly gagged on his words.

“Of course,” the sergeant said. “Which brings us to our second option. To raise the money, we might need your father’s help.”

“No.” Brandon was taken aback when Dolph bolted upright. “We’re not getting my father involved.” The resoluteness in the way Dolph had spoken was something Brandon had never seen in him before.

“How much is the ransom anyway?” Brandon asked.

Dolph settled back on the couch, half leaning on Brandon when he dejectedly stated, “Five hundred thousand dollars.”

Brandon was about to say, “I can come up with that amount” but then Sgt. Sulik interjected before he even had a chance to utter a single word. The sergeant had told Dolph that he already had someone contact Councilor Devlin Lambert.

“How could you?” was all Dolph could mumble before he buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

There were so many words of comfort Brandon could offer, but all he could do was reach out and squeeze Dolph’s shoulder. Dolph lifted his head, eyes filled with vulnerability that Brandon was so familiar with. And fuck. Just as he feared, it was luring him in. But Brandon chose not to fight it right then. There were more important things that he should focus on. He just learned he had a daughter. And his daughter had been kidnapped.

“Would you,” Dolph’s voice dragged Brandon out of his rumination. “Would you like to see her pictures?”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Dolph was referring to their daughter. And he was up before Brandon had a chance to fully nod. Dolph came back with a large album, resting it gently over Brandon’s lap. An embossed pink nameplate glistened at the cover, which read: Alexa Kamile Lambert.

Dolph was the one who lifted the cover, showing the first page filled with photos of a tiny infant lying in what looked like a hospital nursery crib. Brandon felt a pang in his heart. He had missed this, had missed the first days of his own child's life.

“This was taken at the nursery. Josh took the pictures.” There was a slight tremble in Dolph’s voice that was hard to miss and Brandon could tell he was trying his best not to cry.

Brandon took over flipping the pages, each side were filled with captured moments of the little girl who seemed to look more like him as she grew up. As if reading his mind, Dolph said, “She looks so much like you, you know. Everything about her, she got it from you. Her laugh, her smile, her eyes.” Dolph’s thoughts seemed to drift away, his fingers tracing the edge of a photo of the beautiful child hugging a stuffed animal.

Ever so gently, Brandon placed his hand on top of Dolph’s. He gave him a tiny squeeze and said, “We’ll get her back, Dolph. I’m with you on this.”


Continued on Chapter 2