The Baby Shift- Kentucky Read online

  The Baby Shift: Kentucky

  Shifter Babies of America 13

  Becca Fanning

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Also by Becca Fanning

  Chapter 1

  She could tell from the size of the room and the number of empty seats that this courtroom was meant for much larger cases than the one it was hosting at the moment. Seated beside her was her lawyer, Marvin Graham, and directly in front of them on the other side of the table sat her ex-husband and his female lawyer. Just looking at him caused a shiver to run down her spine.

  In the three years in which Juliana had been married to Reagan, she could hardly remember a time when she felt peace. He was a monster - one that deserved to be locked away for the rest of his life. Reagan was the best lieutenant in the county of Sherfield, Kentucky. He had closed more cases and caught more criminals than any policeman of his age. There was no way a woman could send him to jail. However, that wasn't the only way to keep him away from her and her three-month-old baby.

  The presiding judge, a woman in her late fifties said, "Miss Juliana Dennis. I understand you and Mr. Reagan Taylor got divorced a week before you discovered you were pregnant. I also understand why you'd feel the need to file for full custody of your child and a restraining order against Mr. Taylor. You believe he abused and manipulated you throughout your brief marriage and you don't want that to continue with baby John. Is that correct?"

  "Yes, your honor," Juliana replied. Her body shivered with the anticipated victory. This was meant to be the final hearing after several others where her lawyer presented, as evidence, photos of the scars she had sustained from the three-year abuse, messages from Reagan threatening to take "his" baby away, and a few eye witness statements.

  The judge continued. "The court has made a decision to grant you full custody of the child."

  It was all Juliana could do to contain her excitement upon hearing those words. She was finally getting the victory she deserved.

  In her excitement, she almost missed the judge's next statement which was, "However, the idea of a restraining order against your son's father comes across as unwarranted to this court. As a result of this, this court has granted Mr. Reagan Taylor the right to visit his child as often as he likes. Every day, he goes out to risk his life for this county. The least we can do is NOT deny him the right to see his son after a tough day at work."

  Every other word that came out of the judge's mouth was lost on Juliana. She glanced at Marvin. Her lawyer looked as dumbfounded and furious as she was. They had presented enough evidence to put any man away for years, but it would seem it wasn't enough to even get the court to keep Reagan away from her and her baby. Their beloved lieutenant was a sick bastard and it would seem no-one but she believed this.

  She turned to stare in front of her. Reagan's gaze was on her. Handsome as always, he had a slight grin on his face. To Juliana, it was more of a sneer. It was the sneer a monster gave its prey just before devouring it.

  Looking at it from the window of his car, Carl Stevenson realized the Kent House was a lot smaller than it appeared to be on the real estate website. He did not mind, however, as he got out of the car with his large green bag slung across his shoulder. All he needed was a place to lay low for a few months at most. The fact that this place could be a tiny flat in a suburban two-story building did nothing to faze him. He needed a place to hide, and Sherfield was as good a place as any.

  After climbing upstairs and walking past the various doors to stop at flat 22, Carl opened the door with the key the landlord mailed him and stepped into his new home. It was not half as bad as he had feared. The appliances were in good condition, the bathroom and toilet didn't stink, and the two bedrooms had been well-maintained.

  "This beats staying in that crappy motel anytime, any day," he said as he took a seat on one the old couches in the living room and ran a hand through his long red hair.

  Sitting there staring at the window that opened up to a view of the setting evening sun, Carl thought about how much living in a place like this would cost him and how much he had in his green bag. That bag, which he had placed under the bed in one of the rooms, contained the only things he took with him when he left Wisconsin.

  Carl Stevenson decided he needed to get a job. Having studied medicine for nearly eight years of his life, he figured the only job he could get in Sherfield was that of a doctor. He felt something stir within him. An involuntary growl escaped his throat.

  "Down boy!" he said, grimacing.

  The tiger within him was not in a happy mood of late. It had been months since Carl had shifted and for a shifter of his nature, that was not the best way to live. He had no choice, however. The blue contacts he wore hid his golden eyes from the locals. The last thing he needed was for anyone to find out he was a weretiger. They would have to pull up his records during an interview, but state laws were strict about employers divulging such information. As long as he kept his tiger in check, he was safe.

  And with these thoughts in mind, Carl slowly drifted into sleep on top of the couch.

  His dreams were filled with frightening memories of a life he had tried so hard to forget. A life of pain, bloody claws, hatred, and death. He awoke with a start.

  Glancing at his silver wristwatch, he realized he had been asleep for almost two hours. He sat up straight on the couch. His head was already beginning to throb painfully, as it always did when he had the dreams.

  "I need a distraction," Carl said to himself. He arose from his sitting position and walked towards the front door. He realized this was as good a time as any to get acquainted with some of his immediate neighbors. Getting these people to like and not suspect him was important if he was going to survive in Sherfield.

  As soon as he stepped into the corridor, he decided to introduce himself to whoever lived in the flat directly in front of his. Taking a deep breath, he calmly knocked on the door labeled "21." The second his knuckle touched the wooden frame, the door turned inward on its hinges. It must have been left unlocked because Carl could suddenly see the interior of the apartment.

  In the middle of the room was a baby seated on its cradle. The little child did not seem to notice the man standing in the doorway as it was busy playing with a blue rubber ball the size of an egg. Carl decided it would be best for him to move on to the next room as he did not want his first impression to be that of an intruder.

  He took a step back just before something happened that made him stop dead in his tracks. The baby, while attempting to chew on the ball, somehow swallowed it whole into his mouth. Carl watched in horror as the child's face turned crimson red as he visibly struggled to breathe.

  Carl rushed into the apartment and was by the boy's side in a matter of seconds. His medical instincts kicked in as he gently lifted the little boy out of his cradle. Carl carefully placed the child facing upward with the back on his right forearm and the head cradled by his right hand. He placed his second forearm on top of the child's front so that he was sandwiched between the two limbs. Holding the baby's jaw, Carl turned him over so that he was face-down. He then lowered the child so his that his chest was higher than his head.

  With the heel of his hand, Carl began to deliver restrained but firm back blows to the middle of baby's back. He was just about to register the third blow when a door opened by his left and someone walked in. He glanced up just in time to see a young woman covered only in a thick white towel tied around her chest as she glared at him in shock and terror.

  "Get your hands off my son!" the woman screamed.

  "Madam, I can assure you it's not wha
t it looks like. Your child just..." Carl said but was immediately interrupted.

  "You sick bastard!" she screamed, and before he could say a word more, she reached for a nearby shelf and in a flash brought out a heavy object. It was a 9mm pistol.

  Carl's mouth dropped open in shock. At the same time, he delivered another soft blow to the baby's back. Just as she aimed her weapon at his head, there was a small sound of rubber hitting the tiles. Both Carl and the woman looked down at the baby. The object had finally fallen out his mouth.

  Carl turned to look at her again. The gun was no longer aimed at him. She held it limply in one hand now. The situation had finally dawned on her.

  Carl said, "He swallowed his toy. I had to save him as fast as I could."

  All she could do was stare at her child and stammer, "I'm... I'm so sorry."

  She moved forward, but her earlier movements had been too frantic. She had only taken a step forward when the towel tied around her chest fell off.

  Chapter 2

  Through the window of the apartment she shared with her baby, Juliana watched the car come to a halt on the parking lot. A few seconds ago, she had heard it pull up into the compound and her heart began to pound uncontrollably hard against her chest. She was all too familiar with the sound of those engines. It was the sound she used to hear every night before a drunk Reagan climbed up the stairs, walked into the flat, and found reasons to hit or curse her.

  After the divorce, she had hoped she wouldn't have to hear the sound of that car again, but that was before she learned she was pregnant with his child. Looking away from the window, Juliana turned to her side where John was sleeping peacefully in his cradle. The previous evening had been a terrifying one. If not for the timely intervention of the new handsome doctor in the opposite flat, a lot could have gone wrong. She did not want to think about what could have happened had he not been where he was at the time of the incident.

  And to think she almost blew his head off with her gun. She shook her head and at that moment, another memory crossed her mind. Juliana felt flush as she remembered the moment when her towel fell off, leaving her naked body bare to his view. There was something about the way his eyes looked at her body in that instant. It wasn't ravenous or creepy in any way. It was more like a Formula One driver noticing a new car and acknowledging all the best possible ways he could drive it through the tracks. Although she hated to admit it to herself, the short-lived incident turned her on.

  "Damn," a familiar voice said at the front door. "You didn't think to lock the door?"

  Juliana turned to see Reagan walk into the living room. He was still dressed in his navy blue police uniform and his gun was visible in the holster on his waist.

  "The lock's bad. I only just found out last night that it unlocks on its own sometimes," she said.

  "Then get it fixed."

  "I've called in the repairman. I have no idea why he hasn't showed up yet."

  Reagan sighed, shook his head in disdain, locked the door properly, and walked forward to stand beside his son. He said, stroking the child's right cheek, "You really have to curb your negligent nature. I wasn't surprised when you told me about what happened to him yesterday. You've never been the vigilant type."

  Juliana felt anger rise from the pit of her stomach. She spurted, "The only reason he had that rubber ball is because YOU snuck it into his cradle after I asked you to throw it away."

  Reagan shrugged. "It's his favorite toy. You can't blame me for wanting my son to be happy."

  She said, "He's my son, too, and I didn't want him having it because it was small enough to choke on. And guess what, he did choke on it."

  Reagan said, "He's a Taylor. It would take more than a rubber ball to take my boy down." He stared at his sleeping son with pride in his eyes.

  Juliana shook her head in exasperation. She said, "He's just a kid. If the new neighbor hadn't been on hand to save him, I hate to think of what could have happened."

  "I'll tell you what could have happened. He's a Taylor, and Taylors are survivors."

  "Whatever," she muttered under her breath.

  "What did you say?" he asked.

  "I said I'm sure he is."

  Reagan looked unconvinced but did not appear keen to pursue the issue. Juliana sighed. Now was a good a time as any to tell him of the decision she had made. It had taken her weeks to contemplate and in the end, she had decided that would be the best thing for her and her child. The incident of the previous evening only served to reinforce that decision.

  "Reagan? There's something I have to tell."

  He turned to look at her, a wary expression on his face. "What is it?" he asked.

  She said. "I've been thinking - a lot. Thinking about what it's been like, living in Sherfield. You know I moved here only a year before we met, and since then, I've loved being a part of this county. However, it isn't home for me. I'm going back to live with my parents in Wisconsin, and I'm taking John with me."

  At first, all he did was stare at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he spoke. "I really don't understand you. After the divorce, I let you have this place so you could at least have a home here. You already have a job as a cashier at the bank. What else do you want?"

  She said, "What I want.. no, what I need is to be with family."

  Reagan said, "What? John and I ain't family enough for you?"

  "This isn't about that," she said.

  His voice suddenly rose an octave. "Damn right it isn't about that! You think I'm stupid? You are trying to exploit a loophole in the court decision, ain't you? You have full custody so you can take the child anywhere in America. I can still come to see him in Wisconsin, but apparently a lot less frequently. Which is just perfect for you. I can't believe this shit!"

  "You'd better believe it, Reagan. I don't care what you think. I'm taking John with me."

  He was pacing around the living room now, visibly trying his best to contain his smoldering anger. "I will fight this," he said. "I will fight this with everything I've got!" With that, he kicked at a lamp she had placed on a stool. The glass lamp shattered as it crashed on the hard floor.

  "What is wrong with you!?" she screamed at him.

  "You are what's wrong with me. You scheming bitch," he spat as he stepped forward and grabbed hold of her throat.

  A familiar feeling of terror engulfed Juliana. She could not believe this was happening again. Her arms flailed about as she struggled to get out of his strong grip. Behind her, she could hear little John crying as the loud noises must have woken him up.

  Juliana suddenly realized that perhaps she would have been better off delivering the news to him with more tact. Little John was the only one with her and this monster. And the baby could do nothing to save his mother.

  Carl was enjoying a basketball game with a cold can of beer in his living room when he heard the first crash. At first, he didn't think much of it but when he heard the noises that followed, he soon realized that there was definitely something going on in the opposite flat.

  Taking one last gulp of his beer, he rose from his seat and walked forward to stand closer to his front door. Pressing his left ear against the side of the door to cover up the part of the tiny space between the hinges, he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. There was the sound of a baby crying and then there were adult voices. The voices were loud and desperate, but he could pick out a few words in each sentence.

  "You...leave, please!" that was the voice of a woman. He was fairly certain it was Juliana. The woman he had met the day before, albeit in an unorthodox manner.

  "Shut the... I won't until you... your mind!" It was the unrecognizable voice of a man. Carl listened even closer now as the alarm bells in his brain began to ring. He realized that the man was still speaking.

  "I'll kill you before I let... like that...family!"

  At those words, Carl realized this was something a lot more serious than a mere argument. He unlocked the door as fast as he could.
He heard another crash from the other flat when he entered the corridor. Carl knocked on Juliana's door as hard as he could. No one seemed to have heard him because the noises in the flat continued uninterrupted.

  Carl sighed. There was only one other thing he could do. He braced himself for just a second then slammed his right shoulder against the door hard, and braced himself to slam it again. To his surprise, the door immediately swung open.

  Reagan had his hand on her throat once more. He had only taken it off a while ago so she could breathe. Then she had said something that angered him and he was strangling her again. They had just broken her flower base in the struggle and he had her pressed against a couch while he held her throat and screamed into her face like a maniac.

  Then the loud crash erupted beside them. It was so sudden that even Reagan seemed to nearly choke on his words. He did not release her from his grip though. Juliana turned to see Carl Stevenson, her new next-door neighbor standing by the doorway and looking furiously at Reagan.

  "Who the hell is this?" Reagan said.

  "Get your hands off her, sir," Carl said. The expression on his face was unreadable to Juliana. She could not tell if he was angry, shocked, or afraid. He just stood there by the doorway staring at them.

  "Or what, big guy?" Reagan said, but he let go of her and stood upright to face the stranger. Carl was about an inch taller than Reagan, but the later was way more muscular than he was. She suddenly found herself fearing for Carl's safety. She had watched Reagan in fights before and the man was nothing but a beast in combat.

  Carl said, "You shouldn't hit a woman, Mr..."

  "Reagan. Lieutenant Reagan Taylor." Then he turned to Juliana and asked, "Who the hell is this redhead who thinks he can barge into my... your house the way he likes?"