Chapter 6 - THE OAK PARK STANDOFF
“Stay here and guard your daughter with your life,” I ordered Lorenzo, my cane thumping against the floor. “Do not let anyone near that incubator. I will find Claire.”
For the first time in his life, Lorenzo didn't argue. He nodded, his eyes fierce. “Bring her back, Grandpa. Please.”
My driver sped through the treacherous Chicago snow toward Oak Park. The safe house was an unassuming brick colonial, hidden behind a row of ancient pine trees.
As we pulled up, I saw the front door was ajar.
I told my driver to stay in the car. I drew the snub-nosed revolver I hadn't carried in ten years, the heavy metal cold against my palm.
I pushed the door open. The house was dark, smelling of dust and old memories.
“Claire?” I called out softly.
No answer.
I moved toward the living room. Suddenly, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the hallway. It was Bianca, holding a suppressed pistol.
“You’re too late, old man,” she sneered.
“Where is she?” I demanded, leveling my revolver at her chest.
“Downstairs,” Bianca lied. I could see her eyes darting toward the staircase leading up to the bedrooms.
She raised her gun, aiming right at my head. “It ends tonight, Salvatore.”
Before she could pull the trigger, a gunshot shattered the silence from the top of the stairs.
Bianca screamed, dropping her weapon as a bullet grazed her shoulder. She collapsed against the wall.
I looked up. Standing at the top of the stairs was Claire. She was pale, clutching her stomach with one hand, but in her other hand, she held Rosa’s old shotgun, smoke still curling from the barrel.
“I told you to leave my family alone, Bianca,” Claire said, her voice shaking but filled with a terrifying strength.
Suddenly, the front door burst open. I spun around, ready to fire.
It was Lorenzo. He was panting, covered in snow, holding a small pink bundle to his chest.
“I couldn't leave her,” Lorenzo choked out, looking up at his wife. “I brought our daughter, Claire. I brought her to you.”
But as Lorenzo stepped into the light, Bianca, clutching her bleeding shoulder, reached into her coat with her good hand and pulled out a secondary weapon.
She aimed it straight at Claire.
May you like
“No!” Lorenzo screamed.
He threw himself in front of the staircase just as Bianca pulled the trigger.
