Chapter 3 - The Heavy Luggage
The old brown leather suitcase struck Richard squarely in the chest, the heavy brass latches grazing his expensive navy suit jacket and sending him staggering backward onto the gravel. He gasped for air, his polished shoes slipping on the loose stones as he regained his balance, his face contorting with a rage that completely stripped away his refined facade.
"Get her!" Richard roared, pointing a shaking finger at Emily.
Clara screamed from the porch, abandoning her posture entirely as she hiked up her pink evening gown and sprinted down the stone steps toward them. "You ungrateful little bitch! Give me that bag!"
Emily didn't hesitate. "Run!" she yelled to the boys.
With a burst of adrenaline, Emily grabbed Julian’s hand with her yellow-gloved fingers, while Leo grabbed Toby and Marcus. Together, they bolted down the remaining length of the grand driveway toward the wrought-iron gates that opened onto the coastal road. Behind them, the pounding of footsteps grew louder. Richard had recovered his footing and was closing the distance rapidly, his long strides eating up the asphalt.
"Faster, boys! Keep your feet moving!" Emily urged, her lungs burning from the cold morning air.
They reached the massive iron gates, but to Emily’s horror, the heavy security locks were engaged. The automated gates were firmly shut, sealing the estate off from the outside world. There was no guard in the booth; Richard must have dismissed the morning shift to maintain absolute privacy for whatever disciplinary measures he had planned for the kids that morning.
Emily slammed the suitcase down against the pavement for a brief second, freeing her right hand to frantically punch the numerical keypad on the security pedestal. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"The code, Emily! What's the code?!" Marcus cried, jumping up and down in sheer panic as he looked back at the rapidly approaching figure of Richard Vance.
"I don't know it! They changed it yesterday!" Emily gasped, her fingers flying over the rubber buttons in a desperate blur of wrong combinations, accompanied by an irritating, high-pitched electronic buzz of denial.
Footsteps crunched heavily just behind them. A large, warm hand suddenly clamped down onto Emily’s shoulder, spinning her around with brutal force.
Richard loomed over her, his chest heaving, his tie slightly askew. His hand snaked past her arm and gripped the handle of the brown leather suitcase with a stranglehold.
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"End of the road, Emily," Richard hissed, his face inches from hers. "Give me the bag, or I swear you won't leave this property alive."
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