Chapter 5 - The Midnight Extraction
The rain began to fall heavily as Marcus’s unmarked sedan pulled up to the curb two houses down from Spencer and Chloe’s sprawling modern estate in the gated community of Oak Ridge.
The house was massive—a structure of glass, steel, and stone that felt more like a luxury prison than a home.
"Security cameras on the perimeter," Marcus warned softly, pointing out the dark domes installed beneath the roof overhangs. "Main driveway camera, front porch camera, and patio camera. But there's a blind spot along the western tree line near the guest house."
"I know the layout," I said, pulling a dark raincoat over my clothes. "Chloe’s bedroom is on the second floor, right above the side terrace."
"I’ll monitor Spencer's home network from here," Marcus said, opening a wireless signal jammer on his dash. "If he tries to call his private security team or dial nine-one-one, this device will scramble his cell signal within a fifty-yard radius for twenty minutes. You have ten minutes to get her out."
I slipped out of the car and moved quickly through the shadows of the rain-slicked trees.
The wind rustled through the oak branches as I reached the side terrace. Looking up, I saw the second-floor window open a crack, a dim light shining through the curtains.
I picked up a small pebble from the garden bed and tossed it against the glass.
A second later, the curtain was pulled back. Chloe’s pale face appeared at the window.
She pushed the window fully open and lowered a coiled nylon rope ladder—a emergency fire escape ladder she kept in her closet. She threw it over the sill.
I held the base of the ladder steady in the slick grass as Chloe climbed out, her small weekend bag slung across her shoulder. She was trembling violently, her rain-jacket soaking up the downpour as she carefully descended the steps.
Her feet hit the ground, and she threw her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder.
"I have you, baby," I whispered, holding her tight. "I've got you."
"Hey!" a sharp, furious voice thundered from the upper balcony.
We whipped our heads up.
Spencer was standing on the second-floor terrace, dressed in a black sweater, holding a heavy tactical flashlight. The beam cut through the dark rain, locking directly onto my face.
"Evelyn?!" Spencer yelled, his voice echoing over the thunder. "What the hell are you doing on my property?!"
"She’s leaving with me, Spencer!" I shouted back, stepping between him and Chloe.
"She’s my wife!" Spencer roared, turning and sprinting back inside toward the stairwell. "Chloe, stay right there!"
"Run!" I pulled Chloe by the hand, sprinting toward the tree line as fast as her pregnant body would allow.
Behind us, we heard the heavy front door crash open. Spencer burst out into the driveway, his shoes splashing in the puddles as he charged after us into the dark.
"Chloe! Get back here!" he screamed, his face contorted in psychotic rage. "You don't know what you're doing! You're ruining everything!"
We reached the edge of the woods. Marcus’s sedan flared its headlights to life, throwing a blinding beam of light through the trees that caught Spencer right in the eyes.
Spencer shielded his face, stumbling backward.
Marcus threw the passenger door open from the inside. "Get in! Now!"
I shoved Chloe into the back seat, scrambled into the front passenger side, and slammed the door.
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Marcus hit the gas. The tires screeched against the wet asphalt, sending up a shower of rainwater as the car launched forward down the tree-lined street.
In the rearview mirror, I watched Spencer standing under the glare of the streetlight, soaking wet, his hands clutched into fists as he stared after us, his chest heaving with silent, terrifying promises.
