Chapter 11 - The Wrong Child to Touch
Carter moved before Dominic did.
He overturned his chair, smashed a crystal decanter into the chandelier, and plunged half the dining room into darkness.
People shouted.
Glass fell.
Then Claire screamed.
Grant turned.
Lily was gone.
He heard her crying from the hallway.
“Mommy!”
Grant moved.
No cane.
No wheelchair.
Pain ripped through his back, but he kept going.
At the garage stairwell, Carter had Lily under one arm.
A pistol pressed against his thigh.
The child kicked furiously.
“Put her down,” Grant said.
Carter laughed.
“You can walk. Congratulations.”
Claire appeared behind Grant.
“Please.”
Carter looked at her.
“You should have kept your brat out of adult business.”
Grant’s face became completely still.
That frightened Carter more than shouting would have.
“You threatened her once,” Grant said.
“I should’ve handled her then.”
Claire made a broken sound.
Carter lifted the gun.
Dominic stopped at the far landing.
No clear shot.
Grant slowly spread his hands.
“You want the archive?”
“Yes.”
“You want Ashcroft protected?”
“Yes.”
“Then Lily is useless.”
“She’s useful because you care.”
Grant looked at the four-year-old girl trembling in Carter’s grip.
Six months earlier, perhaps Carter would have been right.
Grant would have viewed caring as weakness.
Now he understood something better.
Caring gives you something fear cannot.
A reason not to freeze.
“Lily,” he said softly.
Her wet eyes found his.
“Remember what you did when Bunny stole your cookie?”
Carter frowned.
Lily understood.
She bit him.
Hard.
Carter screamed.
His arm loosened.
Claire lunged and caught Lily as she dropped.
Dominic hit Carter’s gun hand.
The pistol fired into the ceiling.
Grant drove forward.
His shoulder struck Carter squarely in the chest.
Both men crashed against the railing.
For one terrible second Grant’s legs nearly failed.
Then six months of rage held them upright.
Dominic tore the weapon away.
Carter broke free and ran toward the garage.
Grant pressed one hand against the wall.
Claire clutched Lily.
“Let him go,” she said.
Grant looked toward the darkness where Carter disappeared.
“No.”
May you like
He picked up his cane.
“Not this time.”
