Chapter 18 - Fire on the Water
The gunshots sounded like cannon fire across the quiet lake.
Marcus moved with terrifying speed. Before Julian could bring the pistol down for a third shot, Marcus closed the distance, his shoulder driving hard into Julian’s chest like a battering ram. Both men crashed back into the cabin, slamming into a folding table that collapsed under their weight, sending tin cans and baby formula scattering across the floor.
"Marcus!" I screamed, breaking cover and sprinting toward the porch.
Inside, the struggle was brutal and savage. Julian was fighting with the feral desperation of a man who knew a prison cell awaited him. He gouged at Marcus’s eyes, thrashing like a maniac, but Marcus’s training was superior. Marcus twisted Julian’s wrist until bone popped, forcing the gun to clatter harmlessly across the floorboards.
A second later, Marcus drove his elbow into Julian’s jaw.
Julian’s head whipped back against the floor, and he went limp, groaning, blood bubbling from his split lip.
I didn't look at my ex-husband. I ran straight to the corner of the room where a filthy cot sat under a drafty window.
Wrapped in a soiled, threadbare towel was a tiny infant boy, his skin pale, his cheeks blotched red from crying. His eyes were wide with terror as he looked up at me.
"Hey, little guy," I whispered, tears burning my eyes as I scooped him into my arms, pulling him against my chest. "You’re safe now. Aunt Clara’s got you. You’re safe."
The baby buried his face into my fleece jacket, his tiny hands clutching my collar with an iron grip.
On the floor, Julian groaned, spitting blood, slowly trying to push himself up. He glared at me through swollen eyes, his expression a twisted mask of hatred.
"You... you always had to ruin everything, Clara," he slurred, coughing weakly. "You were supposed... to stay broken."
I stood over him, holding the son he had tried to sell into oblivion.
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"I didn't break, Julian," I said, each word dripping with cold, unyielding power. "You did."
Sirens wailed in the distance, blue and red emergency lights pulsing through the tall pines as Sheriff Miller’s squad cars finally roared down the logging trail.
