Chapter 9 - Blood and Vows
Rain began to pour down in sheets as Clara ran through the sprawling gardens, holding a crying Leo tightly against her chest. She could hear Marco’s heavy footsteps behind her, cursing and firing wild shots into the trees.
"Clara! Give me the boy and I'll let you live!" Marco bellowed through the storm.
Clara reached the old brick greenhouse at the edge of the property. She ducked inside, slamming the heavy iron bolt shut just as Marco threw his weight against the door from the outside.
BANG! BANG!
The iron doors groaned under his force. "You can't hide in there forever!"
Clara backed away, looking around frantically for a weapon or an exit. Leo was sobbing into her neck, terrified.
"Shh, baby, I've got you," Clara whispered, her mind racing. She set Leo down behind a heavy concrete planter filled with dirt. "Stay here, Leo. Don't make a sound."
She grabbed a heavy iron gardening spade from a workbench.
Outside, Marco fired three shots into the door lock. The iron latch snapped. The door flew open, and Marco stepped into the humid, dark greenhouse, his gun raised.
"End of the line, waitress," Marco sneered, scanning the shadow-filled room.
Suddenly, Clara leapt out from behind a tall fern, swinging the iron spade with all her might. It struck Marco's gun hand, knocking the weapon out of his grip. It clattered across the glass floor, sliding under a rack of potted plants.
Marco roared in pain, but he was a seasoned fighter. He grabbed Clara by her throat, shoving her hard against a wooden table. Clara gasped for air, fighting against his massive grip, clawing at his face.
"You should have stayed in your cheap restaurant," Marco snarled, raising his fist to crush her.
THWACK!
A heavy black leather boot kicked Marco directly in the side of the knee. Joint bones snapped with a sickening crack.
Marco shrieked, collapsing to the floor.
Rico stood over him like an avenging demon, his eyes burning with a dark, apocalyptic fury. He didn't say a word. He grabbed Marco by his shirt, lifted him up, and slammed him repeatedly against the concrete edge of the planting bed until the traitor stopped moving.
Rico dropped the bloody body onto the floor like trash.
He turned instantly to Clara, who was leaning against the table, gasping for breath.
"Clara!" Rico cried, catching her as her legs gave out. He pulled her tight into his arms, kissing her hair, her cheeks, her hands, trembling violently. "Are you hurt? Did he touch you?"
"I'm... I'm okay," Clara choked out, clinging to his jacket. "Leo... Leo is safe."
From behind the planter, a small voice called out. "Daddy? Clara?"
Rico reached down, picking up Leo and wrapping both Clara and his son into an embrace so tight it felt as if he would never let go.
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"It's over," Rico sobbed softly into Clara’s neck, dropping all his stoic defenses. "It's completely over. You saved him again."
"We saved each other," Clara whispered back, kissing his cheek.
