Chapter 5 - The Trap is Set
By the next morning, the news of the gate-crashing at the Corbett estate had been kept entirely out of the local press—a clear sign that Arthur was trying to handle the matter quietly to avoid federal scrutiny.
I was sitting in Jake’s hospital room, holding his hand as he slept. The door opened, and two local police officers walked in. They weren't patrol cops. They were detectives, wearing cheap suits and carrying themselves with an air of unearned authority.
"Ethan Vance?" the taller one asked, his hand resting casually on his utility belt. "I’m Detective Miller. This is Detective Harris. We need you to come down to the station for questioning."
"Regarding?" I asked, not looking up from Jake.
"An assault and battery that took place last night at the Corbett estate," Miller said. "Arthur Corbett has filed a formal complaint. You're facing some very serious charges, Mr. Vance."
I slowly let go of Jake’s hand, stood up, and faced them. "I'm not going anywhere."
Harris took a step forward, his hand moving to his handcuffs. "We weren't asking, sir. Make this easy on yourself. Your kid is safe here."
"No, he isn't," I said. "Not as long as you're on the Corbett payroll."
Before Harris could react, the closet door behind them opened. Jax stepped out, holding a silenced submachine gun pointed directly at Harris’s chest. At the same time, the privacy curtain beside the bed was pulled back, revealing Vance, who was aiming a compact pistol at Miller’s head.
The two detectives froze, their faces draining of color.
"Gentlemen," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "Please keep your hands away from your weapons. My son is sleeping, and I don't want him disturbed by the sound of your bones snapping."
"Are you insane?" Miller whispered, his eyes darting between the two armed operators. "You're threatening police officers."
"No," Jax corrected him with a grin. "We’re holding two corrupt criminals hostage. There's a difference."
I walked over to Miller, reached into his jacket, and pulled out his service weapon. I did the same to Harris. I then searched their pockets, retrieving their phones and their badges.
"You're going to call Arthur Corbett," I told Miller, handing him back his phone. "You're going to tell him that you have me in custody, and that you're bringing me to the abandoned warehouse on 4th Street for a quiet 'discussion'—just like he wanted."
Miller swallowed hard. "And if I don't?"
May you like
Vance took a step closer, the cold barrel of his pistol pressing against Miller’s temple. "Then we find out how much Arthur Corbett’s loyalty is worth to your family."
Miller’s hand shook as he dialed the number.
