Chapter 6 - The Iron and the Blade
The shadow cast by the intruder’s heavy frame stretched completely across the threshold, swallowing the last sliver of natural light that filtered through the dusty bedroom curtains.
My fingers tightened around the heavy iron bookend beneath the bed. The cold metal bit into my palm, grounding me against the terror that threatened to tear my chest apart. A few feet away, little Chloe was curled into a tight, trembling ball against the wall, while Leo stared at me with wide, panicked eyes, silently begging for a miracle.
Out in the kitchen, a soft, strangled sob cut through the quiet air—Maya.
“I know you’re in here hiding, little rats,” the man drawled, his voice thick with a lazy, sadistic cruelty. His boots shifted, the thick rubber soles grinding against the hardwood right beside the foot of the bed. “You can make this easy and come out, or I can start cutting pieces off your little suburban girlfriend until you decide to cooperate.”
My blood turned to ice water.
He wasn't just here to drag runaways back to some abusive shelter or state facility; he was a predator who enjoyed the hunt. And my daughter—my sweet, quiet Maya, who I thought I knew better than anyone—was caught directly in his crosshairs because she had tried to do something merciful.
The heavy boots paused. A shadow fell across the opening beneath the bed frame.
He was looking down. He was looking right at the dust ruffle.
Before the tip of his knife could lift the fabric, I exploded outward from beneath the bed with a guttural roar, swinging the heavy iron bookend with every ounce of fury, fear, and maternal wrath I possessed.
The iron connected with his shin with a sickening crack.
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The man let out a sharp, surprised howl of pain, his legs buckling sideways. He crashed heavily against the bedroom doorframe, dropping the knife with a clatter that rattled the floorboards.
“Run!” I screamed at Leo and Chloe, scrambling to my feet. “Get to the front door, now!”
