Chapter 7: A Runner
Months passed and Emmett grew bigger and stronger with each day. Esme never felt so safe in her whole life. For the first time ever, she was happy.
When Emmett was eight months old, Esme was in the kitchen when she heard her son let out a high pitch giggle. Looking over, she saw Carlisle sitting on the floor with a little basketball in his hand. Emmett crawled over, hitting the ball, giggling like crazy as the ball bounced in front of him. "You going to be a basketball player?" Carlisle asked as he the baby sat down, hitting his hands on the ball.
Smiling softly, Carlisle touched the little boy's dark curls. He looked over at Esme to see her watching with a gentle smile. He smiled back before he helped Emmett stand up. The eight-month-old let out a little noise, hitting his hands on Carlisle's. "So when do you go?" Esme asked.
"The lawyer said that we have to meet him in the park," he replied.
Nodding her head slowly, she let out a deep breath. Carlisle picked the baby up, putting him into his playpen before walking over to her. "Esme…" he murmured, resting his hand in the middle of her back. Esme turned around slowly and he could see the tears in her eyes.
"I don't like the fact that Charles is persistent about seeing Emmett. He doesn't care, he's doing this to torture me." She insisted.
Carlisle hushed her softly. "I won't let Charles take your son," he assured her. Sniffling softly, she pressed her forehead against his chest sniffling softly. He kissed the top of her head, rubbing her back.
Later that day, Carlisle was at the park with Emmett. The baby was sitting in his lap, letting out little noises when Charles came up. "Hey, son," he greeted. The baby looked up at him with wide eyes, but didn't say anything. "Hey, it's daddy," Charles told him. Carlisle was keeping a light grip on the infant's waist so he wouldn't fall over. "Come here buddy," he said to the baby moving to pick him up.
Emmett immediately tried to back up and let out a little cry of fear. "What's wrong with him? Every single time it's my turn to hold my kid he acts like this?" Charles demanded.
"Maybe, Charles, it's because you tower over him instead of looking him in the face," Carlisle answered.
The other man gave the doctor a glare but then he crouched down in front of Emmett. "Hey, buddy, it's daddy," he told the baby. Emmett just stared at him, stuffing his hand in his mouth instead of doing anything. "What is he stupid or something?" he asked. Carlisle covered the boy's ears.
"Hey, he's not stupid, he's a baby. He's not going to get up and start talking like 'Hey dad, come on let's play'," he said sarcastically.
"Who are you to give me lectures?" Charles spat.
"The guy who brings your kid to see you," Carlisle answered.
Charles gave him another glare and Emmett started whimpering from the tension. "Listen, speaking of visits, I need to talk to the courts, I'd like to take Emmett to Texas, to see my parents," he stated.
"I don't think so, you're still a flight risk," Carlisle answered.
Emmett was staring up at Carlisle, his hand reaching up and grasping the collar of his shirt. "My mom wants to see her grandson," Charles insisted.
"Well, you can discuss that with the courts, but they'll ask my opinion and I still say you're a flight risk," Carlisle answered.
Charles was watching as Emmett was reaching for a pen that was in the doctor's pocket and gurgled excitedly when Carlisle held a pacifier up to him instead. "He's just a baby who's still nursing, you're not going to be able to get an out of state trip," he added.
"You can't keep my kid from me," Charles spat.
"I'll do whatever it takes to keep Emmett and Esme safe, so far you haven't proved anything to me to give the courts a reason to give you such a trip. You yell at Emmett, you call him 'stupid' or 'retarded' because he's a baby learning how to do things. You scare him all the time, if I had it my way you wouldn't have Emmett at all," Carlisle explained.
Just then, his watch started beeping, signaling that their time was over. "With that, we need to get home," he added. As Carlisle was getting Emmett back into his stroller he suddenly heard a click behind his head.
"I'm taking my kid, Cullen," Charles spat.
Before Carlisle could even turn around, there was a loud bang and Carlisle hit the pavement. Emmett's blue eyes grew wide and his tiny hands reached for the fallen man. Charles walked over, grabbed Emmett, and left while Carlisle lied unconscious on the blacktop.
A few hours later at the hospital, Esme was rushing in with the police there to stop her. "Where's Carlisle? Where's my son?" she asked panicked.
"Ms. Platt, I need you to sit down please," an officer answered.
"Where's Carlisle?" she asked.
"Mr. Cullen is in surgery right now," the officer answered.
"Where's my son?" Esme asked.
Her heart was hammering in her chest. "Where's my baby?" she asked with tears in her eyes. The officers looked at each other before looking at the terrified woman.
"We're still searching for your son," the first officer replied.
Feeling like she was kicked in the stomach, Esme fell to the floor. "No…no…no…no…no…NO!" she screamed in horror, rocking back and forth. The officer who was speaking to her tried his best to reassure the hysterical woman.
"We're doing whatever we can to find him, Ms. Platt," he assured her.
Esme wrapped her arms around her middle with a sob, her hands on the sides of her head as she kept rocking back and forth on the floor. "We need to put an Amber Alert out on the baby, we need you to give us any information you have," the officer told her. Feeling sick to her stomach, the young woman sat back in her seat and looked at the officers.
"Emmett's 8 months old…he has dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. I had dressed him in little Nike sneakers, blue jeans, and a t-shirt that has a big teddy bear on the front of it. He's big for his age, he looks like he should be 12 months old instead of 8 months," Esme explained.
"Do you have a picture?" the officer asked.
Esme shakily reached into her purse, removing a picture of Emmett from Christmas, showing it to them. "We'll find him, Ms. Platt," the officer reassured her before they went to get this out to every officer in town to find her missing son.
After what felt like forever, Carlisle was finally out of surgery. He was lying on his side in the hospital bed when he saw Esme sitting beside him. "Esme?" he murmured.
"I'm here," she answered.
She gripped his hand tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered. She shook her head.
"It's not your fault," She answered.
Standing up, she rested her forehead against the side of his head with a sob. Carlisle reached up, wrapping his arm around her back as they both cried over the fear of never seeing Emmett again.
