Chapter 19 - The Mother's Wrath
Mark stood just ten feet away from me, the pouring rain violently soaking his expensive designer suit.
He looked absolutely victorious, a true sociopath who believed he had finally beaten every obstacle in his path.
"Put the little gun down, Elena, and I promise I will make it quick," Mark ordered, his voice dripping with cruel condescension.
I did not lower my weapon.
I thought about the agonizing pain he had intentionally forced Chloe to endure for months.
I thought about the terrifying fire in the slaughterhouse, and the absolute destruction he had rained upon our peaceful life.
I was no longer the quiet, obedient housewife he had manipulated for sixteen miserable years.
I gripped the heavy pistol with both hands, staring directly down the iron sights into the eyes of the devil himself.
"You are never going to touch my daughter again," I stated with absolute, unwavering conviction.
I pulled the trigger rapidly, firing three heavy bullets directly at Mark's center mass.
Mark stumbled backward as two bullets aggressively pierced his shoulder and thigh, his arrogant smirk replaced by a scream of pure agony.
He blindly fired a burst from his suppressed rifle, but the heavy recoil sent the bullets flying wildly into the side of the SUV.
I didn't stop moving; I sprinted forward, tackling his wounded body violently onto the slick, wet pavement.
We wrestled brutally for control of the weapons, the freezing rain mixing heavily with the dark blood pooling around us.
Mark managed to strike me viciously across the jaw with the heavy stock of his rifle, sending me crashing onto my back.
He raised his weapon to deliver the final, fatal shot, his eyes burning with absolute, uncontrollable hatred.
Suddenly, a massive, heavy iron tire iron swung rapidly out of the darkness, smashing brutally into the side of Mark's skull.
Mark collapsed into a pathetic, unconscious heap on the tarmac, entirely neutralized.
I looked up, gasping for air, and saw my brave, resilient fifteen-year-old daughter standing over him, gripping the bloody tire iron tightly.
Chloe dropped the heavy metal bar and collapsed into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably as the adrenaline finally left her system.
A deafening chorus of police sirens suddenly erupted from every direction, completely surrounding the private airfield.
Jax had survived the shots to his heavy armor plate and had silently activated his emergency police beacon while we were fighting.
May you like
Dozens of armed federal agents swarmed the tarmac, immediately placing the unconscious, bleeding Mark in heavy steel chains.
The nightmare was finally, permanently, and entirely over.
