Chapter 5 - The Distraction
Holly let out a sharp cry of pain as the massive enforcer lifted her entirely off the ground by her arm.
I screamed and lunged forward to save her, but another armed man roughly shoved me back down onto the carpet.
Brandon’s entire demeanor shifted from calm calculation to absolute, terrifying desperation.
He held the brass key high in the air, screaming at the men to let his daughter go immediately.
The loan shark smiled a cruel, thin smile and nodded at his enforcer to drop the child.
Holly scrambled across the floor and buried her face into my chest, trembling like a fragile leaf in a winter storm.
The loan shark held out his gloved hand, demanding that Brandon toss the key across the dining room table.
Brandon hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes quickly scanning the broken crystal, the terrified family, and the armed men.
He looked directly at Gene, who was now cowering against the wall, her silver handgun completely forgotten in her panic.
Brandon tossed the brass key, but he intentionally threw it slightly off target, sending it clattering into the dark corner near the fireplace.
The loan shark cursed and ordered two of his men to retrieve the key from the shadows.
As the men turned their backs and bent down to search the dark corner, Brandon made his move.
He grabbed the heavy, wooden dining chair next to him and hurled it with brutal force directly at the loan shark.
The heavy chair smashed into the man’s chest, knocking him backward and sending his suppressed pistol skittering across the floor.
Absolute chaos erupted in the dining room as the uncles and cousins finally found their courage and rushed the distracted gunmen.
I grabbed Holly and dragged her under the heavy oak dining table, shielding her with my own body as the fighting broke out.
Fists, plates, and heavy silver serving trays were used as desperate weapons against the syndicate thugs.
Brandon tackled the lead enforcer, delivering a vicious punch to the man’s jaw that echoed sharply over the shouting.
I watched Gene crawl frantically toward the dropped suppressed pistol on the carpet.
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Before she could reach it, the little dog shot out from under the sofa and clamped its teeth violently into Gene’s ankle.
Gene shrieked in agony, kicking wildly and knocking the loaded weapon directly under the table where I was hiding.
