Chapter 8 - THE WOODEN TRAIN RETURNS
“No,” I said, stepping backward until my back hit the glass of the window. I pulled Leo behind me, shielding him entirely.
“Don’t do this the hard way, Harper,” Mitchell stepped into the room, twirling the small hunting knife. “It’s over. Miller ran. Rossi is dead. It’s just you and me. Like it’s always been.”
“You’re a monster,” I spat, my voice trembling with a rage that finally eclipsed my fear.
“I’m a survivor,” Mitchell corrected. He lunged forward, grabbing my hair and throwing me hard against the wooden dresser.
Pain exploded in my ribs. I collapsed to my knees, gasping for air.
Leo screamed, crying out for me.
Mitchell turned toward the bed, reaching for my son.
“Come here, you little brat.”
“Leave him alone!” I shrieked, scrambling to my feet.
I grabbed the heavy ceramic lamp from the nightstand and smashed it over Mitchell’s back.
The ceramic shattered. Mitchell grunted, stumbling forward, but he didn’t fall.
He turned around slowly. His eyes were completely black with rage.
“That was a mistake,” he whispered.
He raised the knife, stepping toward me. I was backed into the corner. There was nowhere left to run.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact.
BANG.
The gunshot was deafening in the small bedroom.
Mitchell froze.
His eyes widened in shock. The knife slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor.
He looked down at his chest. A dark red stain was blooming rapidly across his shirt.
He fell to his knees, then collapsed onto the carpet, entirely still.
I opened my eyes, sobbing, my hands shaking.
Standing in the doorway, clutching his bleeding side with one hand and holding his black handgun in the other, was Gabriel Rossi.
He was breathing heavily, leaning against the doorframe for support.
“Gabriel!” I cried, rushing over to him.
I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. He groaned in pain, but he wrapped his free arm tightly around me, resting his chin on my head.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Gabriel whispered, kissing the top of my hair. “He got a lucky punch in.”
I pulled back, looking at his bleeding side. “You’re hurt. We have to get you to a hospital.”
“Not yet,” Gabriel said softly.
He looked over my shoulder.
Leo was peeking out from under the blankets, staring at Gabriel with wide, fearful eyes.
Gabriel slowly holstered his gun. He painfully lowered himself to one knee, groaning as his side stretched.
He reached into his pocket.
He pulled out the small, blue wooden train car.
“I believe this belongs to you,” Gabriel said gently, holding the toy out to my son.
Leo looked at me for permission. I nodded, smiling through my tears.
Leo climbed off the bed and tentatively walked over. He took the wooden train from Gabriel’s hand.
“Thank you,” Leo whispered.
“You’re welcome, Leo,” Gabriel smiled. “Your mom is a very brave lady. You know that?”
Leo nodded seriously. “I know.”
Outside, the distant wail of police sirens began to echo through the trees. Not the corrupt cops from the 14th precinct. State Troopers. The FBI. The people Gabriel had tipped off before this whole night started.
Gabriel stood up, wincing. He looked at me, his dark eyes filled with an emotion I had never seen before.
It wasn't pity. It wasn't control.
It was absolute, unconditional respect.
“It’s over, Harper,” Gabriel said. “He can never hurt you again.”
I looked down at Mitchell’s lifeless body on the floor. The man who had controlled my life for three years. The man who had made me shrink, hide, and bleed.
He was nothing but a broken memory now.
May you like
I reached out and took Gabriel’s hand. His fingers interlaced with mine.
“Let’s go home,” I said.
