Chapter 3 - The Target on Their Backs
News travels fast in a town built around a single industry.
By Monday morning, the whispers had already started circulating through the diner, the grocery store, and the mill's breakroom. Arthur’s runaway daughter is back. And she brought a kid with her.
Clara knew it was only a matter of time before the news reached Elias Thorne’s mahogany office on the top floor of the Thorne Steel headquarters.
She was in her old childhood bedroom, unpacking Leo’s small suitcase, when she saw a black Lincoln Navigator slowly crawl past the house. Its tinted windows were rolled up, but it paused directly in front of their driveway for a full ten seconds before speeding away.
"Mom?" Leo asked, standing in the doorway holding a toy truck. "Is this where my dad lived?"
"He lived a few streets over, baby," Clara said, forcing a reassuring smile as she closed the curtains. "But he spent a lot of time in this house."
"Grandpa is crying in the garage," Leo noted with the innocent bluntness of a child.
Clara walked down the hall and opened the door to the garage. Arthur was sitting at his workbench, staring at his heavy steel-toed boots. He hadn't gone to his shift at the mill that morning. He had called in sick for the first time in twenty years.
"They know I'm here, Dad," Clara said softly, leaning against the doorframe. "A car just scoped out the house."
Arthur’s jaw tightened. He stood up, wiping the grease from his hands with a rag. The devastating guilt of the previous night had hardened into something entirely different. It had hardened into cold, absolute resolve.
"Elias Thorne took my apprentice. He stole ten years of my daughter's life. He robbed me of watching my grandson grow up," Arthur growled, his voice vibrating with rage.
He walked over to a locked metal cabinet in the corner of the garage, pulled a key from his pocket, and opened it. Inside, wrapped in an oiled cloth, was a heavy, pump-action shotgun.
"Dad, no," Clara said, stepping forward. "We can't just shoot him. He controls the local police. If you go after him with a gun, you'll die in prison, and Leo will lose his grandfather all over again."
Arthur pumped the action, the metallic clack echoing in the garage. "I'm not going to his office, Clara. I'm keeping this by the front door. Because Elias Thorne isn't going to let sleeping dogs lie. When he realizes who Leo is, he's going to send his men to finish the job."
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As if on cue, the heavy brass knocker on their front door slammed three times.
Clara and Arthur froze. The war had officially arrived on their doorstep.
