Chapter 8
Marco Moretti struck three months to the day after Daniel came home.
It was a Saturday.
Lily's first horse show.
We were all there.
Me.
Daniel.
Gerald.
Marcus and two of his men.
My aunt and uncle.
The whole crew.
Lily was wearing her riding outfit.
Her hair in a perfect braid.
She looked beautiful.
Nervous.
Excited.
She was riding her horse, a beautiful chestnut mare named Star.
They were in the warm-up arena when it happened.
I was standing by the fence, filming her on my phone, when I noticed a man in the crowd.
Tall.
Dark hair.
Sunglasses.
Black suit.
He was staring at me.
Not at Lily.
At me.
My stomach dropped.
I'd seen that stare before.
In photos Gerald had shown me.
Marco Moretti.
I grabbed Daniel's arm.
Squeezed hard.
"Three o'clock," I said quietly. "Don't look now. But it's him."
Daniel didn't turn.
He kept watching Lily.
But his whole body changed.
Tensed.
Coiled.
A predator who had just spotted his prey.
"Marcus," Daniel said, so quiet only we could hear. "Three o'clock. Man in black suit. Take him. Quietly. No gunfire. Not with all these kids around."
Marcus didn't move his head.
Just signaled to his men.
They started moving through the crowd.
Casual.
Slow.
Unnoticed.
The man in the suit saw them coming.
He smiled.
And then he raised a walkie-talkie to his mouth.
Said something.
And dropped it.
"NO!" Daniel screamed.
He lunged for Lily.
But he was too far.
A shot rang out.
Not from the crowd.
From the roof of the arena building.
Star reared.
Screamed.
Lily fell.
Time slowed down.
I saw her hit the dirt.
I saw another bullet kick up dust two inches from her head.
I was running before I even realized it.
Marcus's men opened fire on the roof.
The crowd screamed.
Panicked.
People ran in every direction.
I reached Lily.
She was crying.
Holding her arm.
But she was awake.
She was alive.
I grabbed her.
Dragged her behind the concrete wall of the arena.
Daniel was already there.
Noah was in his arms.
He'd grabbed my son from the stands before anyone even knew what was happening.
"Are you hit?" Daniel yelled over the noise.
"She's shot in the arm!" I screamed. Pressing my jacket to the wound. "It's bad! She's losing so much blood!"
"Medic!" Daniel roared.
Gerald came running.
First aid kit in his hand.
He dropped to his knees beside us.
Took over pressure on the wound.
"Get them out of here!" Gerald said. "Now! There are more shooters! We're sitting ducks!"
Daniel looked at me.
"Take the kids," he said. "Go to the truck. Marcus has the keys. It's armored. Bulletproof. Lock the doors. Don't open them for anyone but me or Marcus. No matter what. Understand?"
"What about you?" I said.
"I'm going to end this," he said. "Right now. Today. No more waiting. No more running."
He kissed Lily on the forehead.
Kissed Noah.
Kissed me.
Hard.
Desperate.
"Go," he said.
I ran.
Lily in my arms.
Noah clinging to my shirt.
We made it to the truck.
Marcus threw me the keys.
I piled the kids in the back.
Locked every door.
Slid down behind the steering wheel.
Shaking.
Lily was pale.
Her eyes were fluttering.
"Mommy?" she whispered.
"I'm here, baby," I said. Crawling into the back to hold her. "I'm right here. You're going to be okay. The bullet went right through. It's not that bad. You're so brave. You're the bravest girl in the whole world."
Noah was crying silently.
Holding Sunny's favorite stuffed animal.
I pulled both of them into my lap.
Held them.
And I waited.
Gunshots outside.
More screaming.
Sirens in the distance.
Getting closer.
Then it went quiet.
Too quiet.
I checked my phone.
No signal.
They'd jammed it.
I looked out the window.
The parking lot was empty.
People had run.
Gone.
Just the three of us.
Alone.
In an armored truck.
In the middle of a war zone.
A shadow fell across the windshield.
A man.
Walking toward the truck.
Slow.
Casual.
Marco Moretti.
He was holding a gun.
He smiled when he saw me.
Waved.
I pulled the kids tighter.
He walked right up to the driver's side window.
Pressed the gun to the glass.
It was bulletproof.
It wouldn't break.
I knew that.
But I still flinched.
Marco laughed.
He tapped on the window with the barrel of the gun.
Rolled his hand.
Like he was telling me to roll it down.
I shook my head.
He smiled again.
Held up his phone.
Pressed play.
Daniel's voice came through the speaker.
Ragged.
Breathing hard.
"Let them go, Marco. It's me you want. Not them. Let them go and I'll give you whatever you want. The money. My life. Anything."
Marco's voice on the recording.
Cold.
Cruel.
"I don't want your money, Daniel. I want you to watch. I want you to watch while I kill your sister. And then your kids. And then I'll kill you. Slow. Painful. And the last thing you'll ever see is their bodies on the ground in front of you. That's the price you pay for taking my family from me."
The recording ended.
Marco mouthed the words to me through the glass.
Tick tock.
He stepped back from the truck.
Raised his gun.
Aimed at the tire.
No.
Not the tire.
The gas tank.
The armored plating didn't cover the gas tank.
I realized what he was going to do.
A second before he did it.
"NO!" I screamed.
Throwing myself over the kids.
The shot rang out.
The truck rocked.
The smell of gasoline filled the air.
Marco shot again.
And again.
I heard the liquid pouring onto the asphalt.
He pulled a lighter from his pocket.
Flicked it.
The flame danced in the dark.
He smiled.
And dropped it.
Fire exploded.
Everywhere.
The heat was intense.
Burning.
The kids screamed.
I held them tighter.
Screaming their names.
Praying.
To anyone who would listen.
Please.
Not like this.
Not after everything we'd been through.
The heat was getting worse.
The plastic of the dashboard was starting to melt.
Smoke filled the cab.
We were going to die.
We were actually going to die.
Then I heard it.
The roar of an engine.
Loud.
Powerful.
A truck crashed through the fence of the parking lot.
Straight for Marco.
He turned.
Eyes wide.
He didn't even have time to raise his gun.
The truck hit him.
Hard.
Sent him flying twenty feet through the air.
He didn't get up.
The truck skidded to a stop beside us.
Daniel jumped out.
Gerald right behind him.
They had fire extinguishers.
They sprayed the flames around the truck.
Dousing them.
Daniel ripped open the driver's side door.
The heat hit him in the face.
He didn't flinch.
"Meg!" he screamed. "Can you move? Are they okay?"
I looked up.
My face was black with smoke.
The kids were coughing.
Crying.
But they were alive.
"They're okay!" I choked out. "Get them out! Please, Daniel, get them out first!"
Daniel reached in.
Grabbed Noah.
Passed him to Gerald.
Reached in again.
Grabbed Lily.
Held her tight against his chest.
Her arm was still bleeding.
She was barely conscious.
"She needs a hospital!" Daniel yelled. "Now!"
He turned to run.
A shot rang out.
Daniel stumbled.
Fell to one knee.
Still holding Lily.
He'd been hit in the leg.
I looked past him.
Marco Moretti was on his feet.
Bloody.
Broken.
But alive.
Holding a gun in his left hand.
His right arm hung useless at his side.
He walked toward us.
Limping.
Laughing.
A horrible, wet sound.
"You just won't die, will you?" Marco said. He raised the gun. Aimed at Daniel's head. "No matter. I'll kill all of you. Right here. Right now. And then I'll burn your bodies. Just like I burned your parents. Just like I burned your life to the ground ten years ago."
He smiled.
"Did you know? The car accident your sister was in? The one that almost killed her? That was me. Your dad's heart attack? Me. Every bad thing that's ever happened to your family? That was me. And now I get to finish it."
He cocked the hammer.
"Goodbye, Daniel."
I didn't think.
I grabbed the gun from the glove compartment.
The one Marcus had insisted I keep there.
The one I'd hoped I'd never have to use.
I raised it.
Aimed.
And fired.
Once.
Right between Marco Moretti's eyes.
He fell.
May you like
And he didn't get up.
Ever again.
