Chapter 6 - THE CHASE
Panic, cold and sharp, pierced my chest. I grabbed the bloody radio. “Marcus! Marcus, respond!”
Static hissed back at me. I ran to the open window. Below, the tire tracks of a golf cart dug deeply into the manicured lawn, heading toward the east service gates.
Vanessa didn't just run. She had taken them. She needed leverage, a hostage to ensure she got out of the gates before the police arrived.
I sprinted down the back stairs, ignoring the panicked questions of my wedding guests. I burst out the kitchen doors and jumped into my Range Rover. The engine roared to life, and I tore across the grass, tearing up the immaculate landscaping I paid thousands to maintain.
I didn't care about the grass. I didn't care about the wedding. I cared about the little girl who had been brave enough to tell me the truth.
I saw the golf cart careening toward the service gate. Vanessa was driving frantically, her white veil trailing behind her like a ghost. In the back seat, Carol was fighting with her, desperately trying to shield a crying Ivy.
"Stop!" I laid on the horn, accelerating.
Vanessa looked over her shoulder, her eyes wild. She swerved to avoid a decorative stone fountain, but the heavy golf cart skidded on the wet morning grass.
With a sickening crunch, the cart slammed into a heavy oak tree.
I slammed on the brakes and threw myself out of the Rover before it even fully stopped. "Carol!"
I ran to the wreckage. Carol was slumped over Ivy, her arms locked tight around her daughter. Vanessa was pinned behind the steering wheel, dazed, her forehead bleeding.
I pulled Carol and Ivy from the cart. "Are you hurt? Ivy, are you okay?"
Ivy was sobbing, burying her face in Carol's neck, but they both seemed miraculously uninjured. Carol was shaking violently. "She hit Marcus with a fire extinguisher... she dragged us out..."
"It's over," I said, shielding them with my body. "You're safe now."
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. The police had finally arrived at the front gates.
Vanessa groaned, pushing the shattered windshield away. She stumbled out of the cart, her dress ruined, her face a mask of desperation.
"You think you've won?" she gasped, leaning heavily against the tree. She pointed a shaking finger at Carol. "You don't know who she is, Nathaniel! Ask her about Chicago! Ask her why she has no birth certificate for that brat!"
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I stared at Vanessa, then looked down at Carol.
Carol's eyes widened in sheer panic, and she squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away from me.
