Chapter 10 - The Last Resort
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I closed my eyes tightly, letting Carter’s venomous threats wash over me. In the darkness of my own mind, I didn't see the cruel kitchen or the terrifying pool of blood. I saw my father.
My father was a quiet man who lived in a rural town, drove an old, beat-up pickup truck, and practically lived in flannel shirts. The Fergusons thought he was a destitute farmer. They thought he was a complete nobody.
But my father was a retired federal judge who still held the deep, unwavering respect of senators, governors, and federal law enforcement directors. He had stepped away from the spotlight years ago to live a peaceful life, but his influence was massive and completely hidden from arrogant fools like Carter.
I remembered the day I moved out. My father had hugged me, looked me dead in the eye, and given me the best advice I had ever received.
"You never flaunt real power, sweetheart," my father had told me. "You never use it to intimidate or bully. You use it only when there is absolutely no other way out."
Standing there in my memories, while my unborn son fought for his life in the present, I knew with absolute certainty that I had reached that exact moment.
I opened my eyes. The tears stopped falling. The terror in my chest was suddenly replaced by a cold, calculating resolve. I raised my head, ignoring the throbbing pain in my busted lip, and looked Carter directly in his cold, arrogant eyes. I held his gaze without flinching, demanding he take the bait. I knew his massive ego would never allow him to back down from a direct challenge.
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"Then call my father," I whispered fiercely.
Carter blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift in my tone. The terrified victim had vanished, replaced by a mother ready to burn his entire world to the ground.
