Chapter 10 - Blood in the Snow
The streetlights on Elm Street were flickering violently against the gathering dusk.
Clara was humming a nursery rhyme, holding Leo’s hand as the three-year-old stomped joyfully in every dirty puddle of slush along the sidewalk. Her shift had ended early, she had twenty dollars in tips in her pocket, and for the first time in weeks, the crushing weight in her chest had begun to ease.
She hadn't seen Adrian since Tuesday. She had told herself she was glad he was gone. But every time the diner bell chimed, her heart had traitorously leaped into her throat.
Suddenly, two dark sport-utility vehicles with blackened windows roared around the corner, their tires spinning aggressively on the ice. They blew past a stop sign and screeched to a halt across the sidewalk, completely blocking Clara’s path.
Doors flew open.
Four men in tactical jackets and ballistic vests jumped out, their hands drawing suppressed automatic pistols.
"Clara Bennett!" the lead man barked, stepping toward her with his gun raised. "Don't scream, don't move, or the kid takes the first bullet!"
Clara’s world shattered into pure horror. She scooped Leo into her arms, spinning around to run, but a fifth man stepped out from the shadows of an alley behind her, his weapon leveled directly at her forehead.
"Mama!" Leo screamed, clutching her neck in terror.
"Please!" Clara shrieked, backing against the rusted fence of a vacant lot, shielding Leo with her entire body. "Take whatever you want! There’s nothing in the apartment! Please don't hurt my baby!"
"Shut up!" the lead hitman snarled, grabbing Clara by the hair and ripping her back toward the idling SUV. "You’re coming with us. You're gonna help us find Julian's stash, and then we’re gonna dump both of you in the harbor—"
A deafening roar ripped through the freezing street.
Out of nowhere, an armored black suburban barreled through the intersection at sixty miles per hour. It didn't brake. It slammed directly into the side of the lead SUV with an ear-splitting crunch of tearing metal and shattering safety glass, throwing the hitmen off their feet into the snowbanks.
Before the dust could settle, the passenger door of the suburban kicked open.
Adrian Hale stepped out.
He didn't seek cover. He didn't hesitate. His face was a mask of cold, terrifying vengeance.
The hitman holding Clara scrambled to raise his pistol, but Adrian’s Kimber roared twice. Two heavy .45-caliber rounds tore through the man's chest, throwing him violently backward onto the hood of the crushed SUV, dead before he touched the metal.
"Adrian!" Clara screamed through her tears.
"Get down!" Adrian shouted.
Automatic gunfire erupted. Bullets sparked off the brick walls and punched holes through the siding of the parked cars. Marcus and three of Adrian’s men spilled out from behind the suburban, returning fire with lethal, military precision.
Adrian crossed the kill zone without flinching, his weapon firing rhythmically—three shots, three targets neutralized. He reached Clara, grabbed her by the shoulder, and threw his broad body over her and Leo, shielding them from the hail of ricocheting lead.
"I have you," Adrian whispered against Clara’s hair, his breath hot against her freezing skin. "I have you. You're safe."
Leo was wailing into Clara’s chest, but beneath Adrian’s massive coat, completely enveloped by his strength, the gunfire suddenly stopped.
The street fell deathly quiet, save for the hiss of steam rising from the crushed radiator and the groans of the dying hitmen.
Adrian stood up slowly, scanning the carnage. Blood stained the pristine white snow like spilled crimson paint.
He looked down at Clara. Her face was pale as death, her eyes wide with shock, but she was unhurt. Leo was trembling violently, but whole.
Adrian reached out a blood-stained leather glove, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Clara’s ear.
May you like
"We have to go," Adrian said softly. "Now."
***
