Chapter 11: Blood on the Coast**
Julian recovered quickly, charging at Elena with a snarl, his fingers digging into her throat as they crashed against the weathered planks. Elena gasped for air, fighting against his weight. She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure, greedy desperation.
"You should have stayed a nobody," Julian hissed, pressing harder.
Elena clawed at his face, finding the edge of a loose floorboard with her boot. With a desperate heave, she kicked upward, throwing Julian off balance. As he stumbled backward, Eleanor smashed an antique brass lantern across his shoulders. Julian collapsed onto the wet boards, groaning in pain.
At the entrance, sirens began to wail in the distance, cutting through the roar of the Atlantic storm. Headlights swept across the boat house windows.
Richard froze, looking from the approaching flashing lights back to Eleanor and Elena.
"Marcus called them," Elena breathed, coughing as she stood beside her mother, holding the gun steadily with both hands pointed at Richard. "It’s over."
Richard took a step toward the open doorway, but state troopers and federal agents swarmed the entrance, weapons drawn.
"Federal agents! Drop your weapons and put your hands where we can see them!"
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Elena slowly lowered the gun, placing it on the crate, before wrapping her arms tightly around Eleanor. For the first time in twenty-two years, the storm had finally stopped inside them.
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