Chapter 3
The drive to Sarah's house took twelve minutes. Marcus did it in eight. He kept his eyes glued to the rearview mirror, weaving through the evening traffic, making sure the dark SUV hadn't recovered quickly enough to tail him.
Tyler was sitting in his living room, clutching the challenge coin in his pocket. He had told the kids at school about the Marine who told him to trust his instincts, but right now, his instincts were telling him something was horribly wrong. The neighbor’s dog next door hadn't stopped barking for ten minutes. And then, the porch light flickered and died.
A heavy knock rattled the front door.
"Mom?" Tyler called out, his voice shaking.
"Tyler, it's the police," a deep voice answered from the other side. "We need to speak with you about the man we arrested. Open up, son."
Tyler took a step forward, reaching for the deadbolt. But he stopped. Trust your instincts, Marcus had said. He remembered the man outside school who knew what school he went to but didn't know his name. He remembered the gray suit. He crept to the window and peered through the blinds.
There were no flashing red and blue lights. No squad cars. Just two men in dark jackets, one of them holding a crowbar.
Suddenly, the screech of tires echoed through the quiet suburban street. Marcus’s truck jumped the curb, its high beams blinding the two men on the porch. Before the truck even fully stopped, Marcus threw open the door. He didn't yell. He didn't hesitate. He moved with a terrifying, calculated speed.
The man with the crowbar swung wildly, but Marcus ducked beneath the arc, driving his shoulder into the man's chest and sending him crashing through the wooden porch railing. The second man reached inside his jacket, but Marcus grabbed his wrist, twisted it sharply, and swept his legs out from under him, pinning him to the concrete.
"Tyler! Open the door!" Marcus barked.
The deadbolt clicked, and Tyler pulled the door open, his wide, pale eyes staring at the chaotic scene. He was wearing his hoodie, shivering just like he had been outside Miller's Hardware.
"Grab your shoes and your backpack," Marcus ordered, dragging the second man into the bushes by his collar. "We are leaving. Now."
"Where are we going?" Tyler asked, scrambling to grab his things.
May you like
"To get your mother. Then we're going off the grid."
As they pulled away from the house, Marcus’s phone rang again. It was the detective he had spoken to weeks ago. "Marcus, we have a problem," the officer said, his voice tense. "The man we arrested in the rental sedan? He just made bail. An anonymous shell company paid in cash. And Marcus... they're wiping his records. You and the Chen family are in the crosshairs."
