Chapter 16 - The Line Crosses
Brandon didn't run. Instead, he reached out with one swift, violent motion and grabbed the handlebars of Lily’s bike, yanking it toward him.
"Let go!" Lily shrieked, kicking wildly at his shins. "Mommy! Mommy!"
"Shut up, you spoiled brat!" Brandon snarled, his mask of charismatic charm ripping away completely, revealing the rabid, cornered animal underneath. He shoved Lily off the seat.
She hit the asphalt with a sickening thud, crying out as her bare knee scraped across the rough stone, drawing bright beads of blood.
The sight of my child on the ground shattered every rational thought in my brain.
I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I sprinted the remaining ten yards and tackled Brandon from behind with the full weight of my body. We crashed into the grass near the edge of the pond. Brandon cursed, throwing an elbow that caught me across the cheekbone, sending stars exploding across my vision.
"You crazy bitch!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet, trying to smooth down his jacket. "You have no idea what you’ve done! Eleanor’s putting the house on the market! You’re going to be living in the street!"
"Help! Someone call the police!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, scrambling back to my feet to shield Lily, who was sobbing hysterically behind me on the path, clutching her bleeding knee.
Bystanders immediately rushed over—two runners and a man walking a German Shepherd. Seeing the crowd gathering and hearing the dog growling, Brandon backed away, his chest heaving, his face red with a mixture of terror and humiliated spite.
"You tell Ryan he signs the waiver by Friday!" Brandon pointed a trembling finger at me, his voice cracking. "Or neither of you will ever work in this state again! We have friends in the governor's office! We will crush you!"
He turned on his heel and sprinted toward the parking lot, jumping into the passenger side of a waiting silver Mercedes. Through the tinted windshield, I saw the cold, silhouette profile of Eleanor Mitchell behind the wheel. The car squealed its tires and peeled out of the lot, leaving two black streaks of rubber on the pavement.
"Ma'am, are you okay?" one of the runners asked, kneeling beside Lily with a clean bandana. "I got their license plate. Do you need an ambulance?"
"Just... just call 911," I whispered, holding my bruised face, then dropping to my knees to pull Lily into my arms.
Her tears soaked into my shirt. "Mommy... he hurt my bike... he scratched the purple paint..."
I looked down. The white basket was bent out of shape. One of the bright streamers was ripped half-off, dangling by a few nylon threads. But the frame was solid. The purple chrome still gleamed under the afternoon sun.
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"We can fix the paint, baby," I sobbed into her hair, kissing her damp forehead over and over. "We can fix the streamers. You're safe now. Mommy’s got you."
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