Chapter 7 - The Burning Iron
I stared down the dark barrel of the shotgun, my heart pounding in my throat. My husband smiled his terrifying smile, confident that he had finally won. He demanded that I hand over the USB drive immediately. I refused to speak, clutching my pregnant belly with both hands. He smashed the butt of the shotgun against the window, shattering the glass over my lap. He reached inside, unlocked the door, and forcefully dragged me out onto the highway. The pain in my burnt stomach flared into absolute, blinding agony. His mother stepped out of the passenger side of the truck, clapping her hands in delight. She walked over and kicked me sharply in the ribs while I lay on the asphalt. She yelled at her son to finish the job quickly before anyone drove past them. My husband slung the shotgun over his shoulder and walked back to his truck. He reached into the flatbed and pulled out the exact same iron bar he had used in the garage. He held a heavy butane torch in his other hand, sparking it to life with a loud hiss. He began heating the metal bar right in front of me, his eyes wide with madness. He promised that he would burn the baby out of me right here on the side of the road. I looked around frantically for a weapon, but the gun I took from Victoria was lost in the crash. I slowly crawled backward, dragging my broken body toward the guardrail. The metal bar began to glow a terrifying, bright cherry red. He turned off the torch and stepped toward me, raising the hot iron high into the air. I closed my eyes, preparing to die fighting for my child. A deafening siren suddenly shattered the quiet night air. Two black armored tactical vehicles slammed into my husband's truck at full speed. Heated metal flew from his hands as the impact knocked him violently to the ground. Heavily armed federal agents poured out of the vehicles with laser sights sweeping the darkness.
