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When Carlos got the call to do a wellness check on a domestic violence victim, he didn’t think the abuser would be in the home. He didn’t think it could go so wrong, but it did and he didn’t think carefully enough about the situation before stepping inside.
Carlos arrived on scene about eight minutes after the call came in, he didn’t use his lights or siren, not wanting to make the situation worse for the victim inside. He hopped out of the car and jogged up to the front door. He knocked three times, waiting for an answer. When no one answered the door, he knocked again.
“APD, open the door,” Carlos called out. He put a hand on his gun, ready to pull it out if needed. A small, petrified teenage boy opened the door, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, like he’d been crying. “Sir, are you okay?”
The boy didn’t speak, he shook his head and stepped back, allowing Carlos to see the inside of the home. While the outside held onto some shred of composure, the inside looked like the teen lived in squalor. Carlos looked around the area, spotting a man passed out on the couch.
“Is that yo-” Carlos started to whisper, only to get cut off by the boy frantically nodding his head. The man had been abusing the teenage boy, and who knows how bad it’s been for him.
Carlos followed the boy as he was led out of the living area into a small bathroom. He lifted his shirt to show Carlos bruises and cuts littering his torso. Carlos swallowed hard, this was worse than he thought.
“How long has this been going on?” Carlos asked, not expecting a reply from the boy.
The boy opened his mouth to speak but he barely got one syllable out before Carlos was being yanked away from the boy and out of the bathroom. The man on the couch had woken up and was not happy.
“Not long enough since el cabrón felt the need to call the cops,” the man growled and pulled Carlos down towards the ground, forcing Carlos to stumble and lose his balance.
Before Carlos could respond or even catch his breath, there was a dull pain in his stomach. He winced, trying not to scream out in pain and discomfort, figuring things were about to get so much worse for the teen.
“Sir, there will be more –” Carlos sucked in a breath, the pain almost too overbearing to continue, “cops pulling up here shortly.” Carlos took another breath. “You might want to go check and see if they’re here.” It was a diversion, Carlos needed a moment to call for backup to actually come.
The man had taken the knife out, leaving Carlos to bleed out on the grimy floor. He groaned and held a hand over the wound. With his free hand, Carlos felt around in his pocket for his phone, finding it and dialling the only number he had memorised.
TK.
“Carlos? Babe? What’s going on, are you okay?” TK’s voice flooded through the phone, worry laced in every word.
“TK, I need you, Nancy, and– and Tommy to come to 3255 Newberry Road. Quietly, no sirens, no lights. And call for backup. I love you,” Carlos said, his breathing slowly becoming more and more erratic. He was losing a lot more blood than he should be. Carlos hung up the phone before TK could finish saying “I love you.”
“Mister, are you okay?” the teen spoke for the first time, startling Carlos. Carlos shook his head and told the teen that he was bleeding a lot.
“Do you have anywhere to hide?” The boy nodded at Carlos’ question. “Paramedics and police will be here soon, I don’t want you to get hurt,” Carlos said shakily, his vision blurring ever so slightly. “I’ll tell them where you are and that you’re injured and they’ll take care of you, too.”
The teen didn’t want to leave Carlos’ side, but the terror in his eyes spoke volumes when the man reentered the house. He whispered something into Carlos’ ear before bolting back down the hall and disappearing.
“You’re damn lucky there ain’t anymore cops out there,” the man said, lightly kicking Carlos near the stab wound. Carlos curled inward, groaning, trying to protect himself from the man.
It seemed like forever that Carlos was laying on the ground, frozen in place, terrified to move out of fear that he would anger the man. It seemed like hours that they were locked in a stalemate, neither man making a move.
Then, there was a smash at the front door. The familiar sound of the battering ram busting through the locks. The man was on his feet in a split second, running to find the source of the noise.
TK had managed to slip into the house, undetected by the man’s rage. He ran around the house, silently trying to find his boyfriend. When he did, he fell to his knees, immediately searching for the source of all the blood, quickly tending to the wound.
“No!” the man screamed from behind TK. “¡Lo quiero muerto! ¡Lo quiero muerto!” He ran at TK, and Carlos’ warning that followed was just enough for TK to just get grazed by the man’s knife instead of stabbed. “He was supposed to die. He knows too much!”
TK looked back at the man, the two cops that had arrived with the paramedic team had managed to restrain him before he could make another attempt at someone’s life. Nancy and Tommy had come in with a gurney, ready to transport Carlos as soon as he was stable.
“Ty, there’s a kid-” Carlos’ eyes fluttered, “in the attic. He’s hurt.” TK turned to Tommy, but before he could say anything, Nancy cut in.
“I’ll go find the kid, Cap,” Nancy offered quickly, unsure if she wanted to stick around to see if Carlos lived or not. “Save him, TK, focus on him. You got this.”