Tyler’s voice closer now. I got you, buddy. Let me see that arm. Jesus. Okay, we’re going outside now. You broke my nose. Rad’s voice turned nasal and wet. I’m pressing charges. You can’t just try it, Jackson said. Please. I would love to watch you explain to a judge why you assaulted a preschooler.
More footsteps, faster now. Going back down. I heard Tyler crying softly, repeating, “It hurts.” Uncle Jackson over and over. I know, buddy. Your dad’s on his way. We’re going to get you to a hospital. Okay. Can you be brave for 5 more minutes? Where do you think you’re going with my girlfriend’s kid? Brad again, following them.
Jackson’s voice dropped to something lethal. Take one more step toward us and I will put you through that wall. I’ve already called the police. They’re 3 minutes out. You can either sit your ass down and wait for them or you can give me an excuse to finish what I started. Silence. That’s what I thought. I heard a door open, fresh air, and Tyler’s crying getting slightly calmer. We’re outside.
Jackson told me his left arm is swelling bad. Looks like a fracture above the elbow. Some bruising on his ribs, too. I’m putting him in my truck. Thank you. I choked out. Thank you, Jackson. He’s my nephew. You don’t thank family for this. The neighborhood came into view. I could see Jackson’s black truck in the driveway with the driver’s door open.
I parked halfway on the lawn and ran. Tyler was strapped into the back seat, his little face red and streaked with tears. His left arm hung at a wrong angle, already purple and grotesqually swollen. He saw me and started crying harder. Daddy. I climbed in next to him, carefully pulling him onto my lap, trying not to jostle his arm.
I’m here, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m here now. He said you weren’t coming. He said you don’t care about me because you left us. White hot rage flooded through me. That’s not true. That’s not true, Tyler. I love you more than anything in this world. I will always come for you. Always. Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer.
Jackson stood by the truck, watching the house. He tried to come out once. I told him to get back inside. He did. Two patrol cars pulled up. Four officers emerged, hands on their weapons when they saw Jackson’s size. officers,” Jackson said calmly, raising his hand slightly. “I’m the one who called this in.” Jackson Martinez. “That’s my brother, Tyler’s father, and that’s Tyler in the truck.
” The man who assaulted him is inside the house. “Brad Walton.” One officer approached us while the others moved toward the house. She looked at Tyler’s arm and her expression hardened. “Ambulance is 2 minutes out. Can you tell me what happened, sir?” I explained everything. The phone call. Jackson being closer.
The emergency entry. She nodded, writing quickly. Did your brother assault Mr. Walton? Brad came at me when I was carrying Tyler down the stairs. Jackson said evenly. I defended myself and my nephew. Hit him once. Broken nose. Maybe. The officer looked at Tyler’s arm, then back at Jackson. I see. Well need full statements from both of you.
An ambulance pulled up. Paramedics moved quickly, stabilizing Tyler’s arm with an inflatable splint. He whimpered but didn’t scream. “So brave. Too brave for a four-year-old who should never have needed this kind of courage. We need to transport him now,” the lead paramedic said.
