Chapter 2 - The Secret Item
The siren wailed loudly as the ambulance tore through the rainy suburban streets.
I held Leo's small hand, completely ignoring the flashing red lights reflecting off the metal walls.
The paramedic administered a low dose of pain medication through an intravenous line.
Leo's breathing finally started to slow down into a steady, less agonizing rhythm.
I brushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead, holding back my own tears.
"You are safe now, sweetie," I whispered.
Leo slowly reached up with his free hand and pulled the oxygen mask down from his chin.
"Mom," he rasped, his voice barely louder than the hum of the medical equipment.
"Jackson did not attack me because he was angry."
I leaned closer, my blood running completely cold at his words.
"What do you mean, Leo?"
"He pinned me down and started punching me because I would not give it to him."
I glanced nervously at the paramedic, who was busy charting vitals on a clipboard.
"Give him what, buddy?" I asked softly.
Leo reached into the pocket of his blood-stained hoodie and pulled out his clenched fist.
He opened his small fingers to reveal a heavy, antique brass key.
The metal was intricately carved with a strange symbol resembling a weeping eye.
"I found it in Grandpa's hidden floorboard yesterday," Leo confessed.
"Jackson saw me take it, and he told me Grandpa would kill us both if he did not get it back."
I stared at the heavy key, realizing my father's anger earlier was not about protecting Jackson.
My father had been trying to keep the police away so he could search my son's pockets.
Before I could ask another question, my cell phone vibrated violently in my purse.
The caller ID displayed an unknown local number.
I answered the call cautiously, pressing the phone tight against my ear.
"Auntie, please do not hang up on me," a terrified, sobbing voice pleaded.
It was my nephew, Jackson.
"Jackson, where are you?" I demanded, my protective instincts briefly overriding my anger.
"You are bleeding, and the police are looking for you."
"I am hiding in the drainage ditch behind the old sawmill," Jackson whispered frantically.
"You have to come get me before Grandpa's men find me."
I frowned, deeply confused by his bizarre statement.
"Grandpa's men?" I repeated.
"Grandpa is an accountant, Jackson, he does not have men."
Jackson let out a choked, terrified sob that chilled me to the bone.
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"You do not know what Grandpa really does, Auntie."
"He just sent three men with guns into the woods, and they are hunting me."
