Chapter 8 - The Last Threat
We moved again that night, to a cabin in the mountains outside Asheville, owned by Jake’s sister. It was remote, surrounded by pine trees, with a long gravel driveway and a security gate. Jake stayed with us, bringing his rifle, setting up motion sensors around the property.
For three days, nothing happened. We hiked, we made s’mores over the fire, Lily and Tyler chased fireflies in the yard. For the first time in months, I felt like we could breathe.
But on the fourth night, I woke up to the sound of glass breaking.
I grabbed the baseball bat from beside the bed, creeping down the hall. The front door was wide open, the wind blowing the curtains. I heard a noise from the kitchen, soft, like someone rummaging through the drawers.
I stepped into the doorway, raising the bat.
Tommy, my mom’s cousin, was standing there, a gun in his hand, his face wild. He turned when he saw me, smiling, a cold, ugly smile.
“Where is she?” he said, nodding toward the kids’ bedroom. “The little witness. I’m gonna make sure she never testifies again. Your mom’s gonna spend the rest of her life in prison ‘cause of that brat. I’m not gonna let that happen.”
He raised the gun, pointing it at me. “Move, Rachel. Or I shoot you first, then her.”
I didn’t move. “You’re not touching her,” I said, my voice steady. “The cops are on their way. Jake called them the second the motion sensors went off. You’re surrounded.”
He laughed. “You think I’m stupid? I cut the phone lines. Your little PI friend is passed out on the porch—hit him with a tire iron when he was taking a leak. It’s just you and me, Rachel. And I’m not leaving here without that girl.”
He stepped forward, and I swung the bat as hard as I could, hitting his gun hand. He yelled, the gun clattering to the floor, and I kicked it across the room. He lunged at me, tackling me to the ground, his hands around my throat. I gasped, scratching at his face, my vision going dark.
Then I heard a scream.
Lily was standing in the doorway, holding a cast-iron skillet she’d pulled off the stove. She ran at Tommy, hitting him over the head as hard as she could. He grunted, his grip on my throat loosening, and I kneed him in the groin, shoving him off me.
Jake stumbled into the kitchen then, blood trickling down his forehead, his rifle raised. “FREEZE!” he yelled.
Tommy tried to run, but two state troopers burst through the door, tackling him to the ground. They cuffed him, dragging him out, screaming threats the whole way.
I sat on the floor, gasping for air, and Lily ran to me, throwing her arms around my neck. “I saved you, Mommy,” she said, crying. “I hit him with the pan. Like you taught me, if a bad guy comes.”
I held her tight, crying too. “You did, baby. You saved me. You’re so brave.”
Megan came running in then, Tyler in her arms, and Jake called the ambulance. We were all banged up—Tommy had bruised my throat pretty bad, Jake had a concussion—but we were alive. We were safe.
The next day, the police told us Tommy had been planning to kill all of us, then burn the cabin down to make it look like an accident. He’d had a list of all the witnesses: Sarah, Chloe, Zoe, the jurors. He’d planned to kill them all, one by one, to get my parents out of prison.
But he was in jail now, no bond, facing 10 counts of attempted murder. The last of the corrupt cops was off the street.
That night, we sat on the porch, watching the sun set over the mountains. Lily was asleep in my lap, her head on my chest. Megan held Tyler, her head on my shoulder. Jake sat next to us, drinking beer, his arm in a sling.
“It’s over,” Megan said, quiet. “Really over.”
May you like
I nodded, kissing Lily’s forehead. “Yeah,” I said. “It’s over.”
But I knew the scars would never fully go away. Not for me, not for Lily, not for any of the girls Derek had hurt. But we had each other. And that was enough.
