Chapter 11 - The Clash
Marcus moved with the speed of a trained fighter, throwing a sharp right hook aimed directly at Claire’s jaw.
Claire ducked under the swing with practiced ease—years of enduring his threats had taught her to read his every micro-expression. The fist whistled harmlessly through the air above her head.
Before Marcus could recover his balance, Claire drove her palm upward, striking him squarely in the chest with the heavy steel padlock clutched in her hand.
Marcus grunted, staggering back a full step as the wind was knocked out of him.
“You bitch!” Marcus snarled, his athletic frame tightening as he prepared to strike again.
Officer Davis tried to step in, but one of the masked figures dropped from the catwalk, tackling the officer to the concrete floor in a chaotic tangle of limbs.
Claire stood her ground, her wavy brown hair whipped around her face by the draft coming through the upper vents. She locked eyes with Marcus, the man who had controlled her life for a decade.
“It ends tonight, Marcus,” Claire said, stepping forward.
Marcus laughed bitterly, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead. “You think you can beat me? I trained for this my entire life. You’re just a suburban housewife.”
“I’m the mother who is going to put you down,” Claire replied coldly.
She feigned a step to the left, drawing his guard, then pivoted sharply, driving her elbow into his ribs with a sickening crunch.
Marcus howled in pain, doubling over as he crashed against a stack of metal shelving.
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Above them, on the metal catwalk, a door swung open, and seven-year-old Sophie stepped out into the dim light, looking down at her mother with wide, brave eyes.
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