CHAPTER 5: THE PRICE OF SURVIVAL
The scarred man laughed, the sound wet and sickening in the suffocating silence of the playroom.
He aimed the long barrel of his rifle right at Clara’s chest.
“Vance is dead out there, sweetheart,” the intruder sneered, taking a slow step forward. “And you’re coming with me.”
Clara shoved Leo deeper under the heavy mahogany table.
She could feel the boy’s tiny, frantic heartbeat thumping rapidly against her spine.
She reached her hand back, her fingers moving in desperate, rapid signs.
Eyes closed. Do not look.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Clara said, her voice shaking wildly as she forced herself to stand up.
Would you risk your own life to buy a few seconds of time for a child that wasn’t yours?
She grabbed the heavy brass base of a broken lamp from the floor.
It was a pathetic weapon against a loaded rifle, but she was not going to die begging.
“Spicy,” the man chuckled, his finger tightening on the trigger. “Julian always did like the fighters.”
Before he could pull the trigger, the wall behind him seemed to explode.
A massive, heavy body slammed into the intruder with the force of a freight train.
The rifle went off, firing a wild shot into the ceiling that sent plaster raining down on them.
Clara screamed, falling to her knees and covering her ears.
Julian Vance was on top of the intruder before the man even hit the floor.
His fists rained down with a brutal, terrifying speed.
There was no grace in it, only the savage, raw violence of an apex predator protecting his den.
“You came into my house!” Julian roared, slamming the man’s head into the hardwood floor.
The sickening crack of bone echoed through the room.
“You looked at her!” Julian screamed, delivering another devastating blow.
Clara watched in absolute horror as the handsome, quiet father transformed into a complete nightmare.
Blood spattered across Julian’s face, but he didn’t stop until the man beneath him stopped moving entirely.
Julian stood up slowly, his chest heaving, his knuckles split and bleeding.
He turned toward Clara, his dark eyes entirely hollow and wild.
For a terrifying second, she thought he might hurt her too.
But then his knees buckled, and he dropped down right in front of her.
“Clara,” Julian gasped, his bloody hands hovering nervously in the air, terrified to touch her. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?”
“No,” she sobbed, throwing her arms around his wide, trembling shoulders. “We’re safe.”
Julian buried his face in her neck, breathing her in like she was oxygen and he had been drowning for years.
