“Take the girls. Hide. No matter what you hear, don’t come out.”
He picked up the baseball bat and a heavy iron skillet from the kitchen.
The front door shuddered under a kick.
“Ethan!” Marcus’s voice called mockingly. “You should’ve stayed buried in your grief.”
The door burst open. Two armed men entered, Marcus behind them.
“Make it look like a robbery,” Marcus ordered.
The first man never saw Ethan in the shadows. The bat shattered his knee. A second blow crushed his wrist.
A gunshot rang out. The bullet grazed Ethan’s ear. He lunged at the second attacker, slamming him into a table and bringing the skillet down hard against his head.
Silence followed.
Marcus stood pale in the doorway, gun shaking.
“You were always reckless,” he sneered.
“And you were always weak,” Ethan replied.
Marcus pulled the trigger.
Click.
The gun jammed.
Ethan swung the bat into Marcus’s ribs. The crack echoed through the room as Marcus collapsed.
“You stole two years from me,” Ethan said coldly. “You won’t take another second.”
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Chloe had seen the SUVs and run to a nearby store, begging someone to call the police.
Red and blue lights flooded the house.
The nightmare ended there.