Page 78 of Property of Spike

“Don’t let them through the gate,” Tank responds. “I’m on my way.”

Tank doesn’t wait another second before he makes his way out of the bunker. His glare over his shoulders tells me to stay, but I decide to ignore him.

“Abby, will you be okay on your own down here?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “I’ll follow you out, but I’ll stay near the house.”

Nodding, I follow the path that leads to the bunker’s exit.

Why would the police want me?

I clutch Asher tighter against my chest, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. I know I should stay put, but there’s no way in hell I’m hiding away when the cops are here asking for me.

By the time I reach the front gate, a line of police vehicles sits just beyond the entrance, their flashing lights bathing the compound in an eerie red-and-blue glow. Several uniformed officers stand at the ready, but it’s the man in the middle that makes my stomach drop.

Chuck.

Dressed in a crisp button-up, his badge clipped to his belt like a freaking trophy, he looks entirely too pleased with himself. His arms are crossed over his chest, his smug grin making my skin crawl.

Tank is already standing in front of the gate, his stance wide, his arms folded as he stares down the officers. Mike and a few of the other guys are posted along the perimeter, tension rolling off them in waves.

“You got a warrant, Chuck?” Tank asks, his voice even but laced with barely restrained hostility.

Chuck lifts a piece of paper and waves it in the air. “As a matter of fact, I do.” His grin widens as he steps closer. “Riley Hayes, you’re under arrest for kidnapping.”

The air is sucked straight from my lungs.

“What?” I whisper, clutching Asher protectively. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Chuck shrugs. “Legal custody matters, sweetheart. And according to this,” he pats the paper mockingly, “you took my son from me.” His gaze drops to Asher, and something cold and possessive flickers in his eyes.

I knew he would find a way around Foster’s work. He probably had someone inside push through new paperwork.

“Your son?” I spit, taking a step back. “You don’t get to claim him just because your name’s on some piece of paper.”

Chuck lets out a fake sigh. “It’s not up for debate, Riley. The birth certificate says I’m his father, which means legally, I have parental rights. And since you’ve denied me access to him, well… I had no choice but to get the law involved.”

“You had a choice,” I snap. “You could’ve left us the hell alone.”

Tank steps between us, his voice dangerously low. “You’re not taking her anywhere, Chuck.”

Chuck tuts, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. I have a legal warrant for her arrest. If you interfere, that’s obstruction.” He lifts a second document. “And this one? Court order granting me emergency custody of my son.”

The world tilts.

“No,” I whisper, tightening my hold on Asher. “No, you can’t do this.”

Chuck’s grin is razor-sharp. “Oh, but I can.” He lifts his chin toward the officers.

The air crackles with barely restrained violence as Chuck lifts the warrant higher, waving it like a victory flag.

“Open the gate, Tank,” he orders, his voice smug and grating. “You don’t want this to get messy.”

Tank doesn’t move. His jaw is clenched so tight I swear I hear his teeth grinding. The veins in his neck bulge as he stands, unmoving, like an immovable wall between me and them.

Mike and a few of the guys shift behind him.

But then, the cops reach for their holsters.

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