Chapter 6 - A Mother’s Wrath and a Father’s Blindness
The words seemed to echo off the walls. For three agonizing seconds, the living room was completely dead silent. Even the strangers by the door stopped moving, sensing the explosive weight of what Chloe had just admitted.
Daniel stared at Chloe, his jaw slack. "Fresh air? Chloe, what are you talking about? Where is Wesley?"
"He's in the old dog kennel in the backyard," I said, my voice dropping an octave, ringing with suppressed fury. "Locked in the cold and the rain. In his pajamas. Turning blue."
Daniel let out a sound like he’d been punched in the gut. He stumbled past the coffee table, his eyes wide with horror. "You... you put him outside? In the kennel?"
"He was driving me crazy!" Chloe shrieked, losing whatever composure she had left as she realized the social circle she was trying to impress was now staring at her in absolute disgust. "He wouldn't shut up! Every time I tried to talk to my friends, he was whining about wanting his grandma! So I locked him out there for ten minutes to teach him a lesson! It's not like he's going to melt!"
Before Daniel could even process the horror of her words, I moved. Thirty-two years of correctional training doesn't vanish just because you retire. I didn't strike her—violence was beneath me, and I wasn't an inmate. Instead, I used my height, my posture, and my absolute, unyielding authority. I stepped directly into her personal space, looking down into her panicked eyes with a gaze that had broken hardened gang leaders.
"Ten minutes?" I whispered fiercely, leaning in close so only she could hear. "He’s been out there long enough to show signs of hypothermia. If anything happens to my grandson, Chloe, you won't have to worry about rent, or this house, or my son. You’ll be worrying about a cellmate named Big Bertha."
Chloe shrank back, her breath hitching in her throat as she realized she was dealing with someone entirely outside her realm of understanding.
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Daniel didn't wait another second. He shoved past us, sprinting through the kitchen and bursting out the sliding glass door into the rain.
I didn't waste time watching him go. I turned on my heel and walked straight back toward the mudroom, grabbing a thick, dry wool blanket from the hallway chest along the way. The party guests were already scrambling for the front door, muttering excuses, eager to disappear into the rainy night before the police were called. I didn't care about them. My sole focus was Wesley.
