Chapter 9 - The Stolen Cruiser
The officer immediately handcuffed Mark securely to the heavy metal radiator pipe.
He unlocked my handcuffs and carefully helped me out of the hospital bed.
"We have to get to that facility before he takes your son away," the officer said urgently.
I ignored the agonizing pain in my chest and ran through the bright hospital corridors.
We jumped into the officer's patrol car and sped recklessly through the dark city streets.
My heart hammered against my broken ribs with every sharp, dangerous turn we took.
We arrived at the child services building just as Evan's stolen cruiser smashed through the front security gates.
Evan jumped out of the wrecked car holding a heavy iron tire iron in his hand.
He sprinted toward the main glass entrance, determined to take Noah away from me forever.
Suddenly, a massive, rusted tow truck roared out from a dark side alley.
The truck slammed violently into Evan, throwing him brutally across the cold pavement.
The driver's door opened, and a large, familiar figure stepped out into the bright streetlights.
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It was my father, his arm heavily bandaged but his eyes burning with furious determination.
He pointed a massive hunting rifle directly at Evan's chest and told him to stay down.
