Chapter 8 - The Shadow's Revenge
It was a cold, rainy Friday evening in November. The clock on the wall showed 8:30 PM.
The last class had cleared out forty minutes ago. The gym was quiet, illuminated only by the soft overhead lights near the front reception desk.
I was finishing up the monthly accounting ledgers while Abby was in the back room stacking training pads.
Suddenly, the lights in the lobby flickered and went out, plunging the building into darkness.
"Abby?" I called out, my voice echoing in the quiet room. "Did a circuit breaker trip?"
"Checking now, Mom," Abby’s voice called back from the rear hallway. "The main panel is in the utility closet."
Before I could stand up, the glass front door gave a sickening crunch.
The heavy brass lock shattered as the door was kicked open, swinging inward violently against the wall.
Two figures stepped into the dark lobby, dripping wet from the rain outside.
My heart plummeted into my stomach.
Standing in the doorway, wearing a heavy dark raincoat, his right arm no longer in a sling but scarred and thick, was Todd Vance. Beside him stood a massive, muscular man with a tattooed neck and cold, lifeless eyes—a man I recognized from my father’s files as a local enforcement lieutenant for Marcus Blake's illegal operations.
Todd had been released on bail twelve hours earlier, pending his criminal trial.
"Hello, Eleanor," Todd sneered, his voice raspy, dripping with pure, unadulterated hatred.
I reached under the desk for my phone, but Todd’s partner stepped forward with terrifying speed, slamming his heavy hand onto the desk, snatching the phone, and crushing it beneath his heavy work boot.
"Looking for help?" Todd mocked, pulling a steel crowbar from inside his coat. "Marcus is facing twenty years because of you and your brat. My life is ruined. My license is revoked. I have nothing left to lose."
"Todd, please," I begged, backing away until my shoulders hit the drywall behind the desk. "The police know you're out on bail. If you do this, you'll go to prison for life!"
"I'm leaving the country tonight," Todd spat out, stepping onto the mat, his eyes wild with revenge. "But before I go, I'm going to make sure your little prodigy never steps on a mat again. Where is she?!"
"Right behind you."
Todd spun around.
May you like
Abby stood in the doorway of the rear hallway. The moonlight streaming through the high windows caught her silhouette. She was holding a heavy wooden training staff—the short jo staff my father had carved for her twelve-year-old birthday.
"You really don't learn, do you, Todd?" Abby said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp, terrifying calm.
