My four-year-old son called me sobbing at work. “Daddy, Mommy’s boyfriend hit me with a baseball bat. He said if I cry, he’ll hurt me even more…” I was 20 minutes away, so I called the only person who could get there first.

Race against time

The elevator seemed endless.

As soon as the doors opened, I ran across the parking lot while dialing the emergency number. My shoes clattered on the concrete as I explained the situation to the dispatcher.

Yes, my son was in danger.

Yes, an adult man was threatening him.

No, I couldn’t wait.

My brother was already on his way.

The traffic was endless in the financial district. Every red light seemed like a wall between my child and me. I honked my horn furiously and squeezed between a delivery truck and myself, thinking of only one thing: getting home.

Then my phone rang again.

Marcus.

“I’m two blocks from here,” he said. “Stay on the line.”

“Go ahead,” I told him.

Break down the door

I could hear the engine of his truck revving on the phone when he parked in front of the house.

“The front door is locked,” he said.

My heart was beating so hard it hurt.

“I’m going to take a look around.”

A few seconds later, I heard the sound of running footsteps… then a violent crash.

Wood splintering.

“The kitchen door gave way more easily,” Marcus said. “I’m inside.”

I ran another red light without slowing down.

Twelve minutes.

Find Ethan

Marcus’s voice echoed throughout the house.

“Ethan! It’s Uncle Marcus!”

A moment of silence ensued.

Then a small voice answered from upstairs.

“Uncle Marcus… I’m up there.”

“Stay here, buddy. I’m coming.”

Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs.

Then another voice was heard, angry and slurred.

“Who the hell are you? This is a break-in! I’m calling the police!”

“Go ahead,” Marcus replied calmly. “Explain to them why you hit a four-year-old child with a baseball bat.”

“That kid wouldn’t stop crying,” the man exclaimed. “He kept calling for his father.”

What happened next was quick.

I heard a sharp cracking sound on the phone.

Kyle screamed.

Finally safe

“Uncle Marcus?” Ethan’s voice seemed closer now.

“I’ve got you, buddy,” Marcus said softly. “Let me see your arm… okay… let’s go outside.”

In the background, Kyle moans.

“You broke my nose!” he shouted.

“Try explaining to a judge why you assaulted a preschool-aged child,” Marcus replied coldly.

When I arrived on the street, police cars were already arriving.

I parked my car in a hurry and ran.

Marcus stood in front of the house, Ethan gently hugging him. My son’s face was streaming with tears, and he clutched his swollen arm to his chest.

“Dad!” he exclaimed when he saw me.