that man gets custody, he’ll auction you off before you turn fifteen. And if that happens, I don’t know where you’ll end up. This way, I know you’ll be safe.”
I watched her stroke her granddaughter’s hair. Streicker had demanded seven thousand to get this girl to Canada. He wasn’t like Father Gabriel, who risked his neck for the cause but would have never taken money for himself.
“Do you believe Streicker’s really going to smuggle her out?” I said to Luke.
“You think he’s lying?”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t it bother you that there’s a girl in his house with scars around her wrists? What if Streicker takes this woman’s money and does something bad to this girl?”
A truck roared up the drive, catching Mikhaela and her grandma in the headlights, and they broke apart.
“Holy mother, he’s speeding up,” Luke said.
“Brace yourself!” I said, grabbing hold of his seat.
The truck veered before it hit us, thumping across the dirt to a stop. Then a man hopped out, his coat half on and arms flailing as he landed awkwardly on the ground. “I came to take you home, Mikhaela. Get in the truck.”
The chained dog barked wildly, frantic to get at him. “Tell that dog to shut up!” he yelled.
“What should we do?” I whispered to Luke.
“Hold tight. Don’t do anything just yet.”
The woman stepped in front of her granddaughter. “What are you doing here, Hatch?”
“I came to pick up my daughter.”
“She’s not your daughter.”
“Law says she is.”
“Law says you’re not allowed within a hundred feet of us.”
“I got me a lawyer, and I’m getting custody.”
“Over my dead body.”
Hatch laughed. “So be it, old woman!” He drew a gun and pointed it at her face.
I gripped Luke’s shoulder. “What should we do?”
“This cannot happen.” Luke reached for the pipe.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I said, but it was too late. The van door released with a faint click, and Luke was out the door, cat quiet. He crept behind the truck and out of my sight.
I crawled into the front and peered out, praying that the dog would keep barking, and the man wouldn’t hear Luke behind him. I fished inside the glove compartment and under the seat, hoping Streicker had another weapon stashed away, but all I found was a crushed soda can and a first-aid kit.
Oh God, Luke, be careful!
The man wobbled ever so slightly. “You’ve got to the count of three to get in that truck, Mikhaela, before I blow your grandma’s head off that skinny body of hers. One.”
Mikhaela took a step toward her stepdad, but the old woman threw out her arms to hold her back. “You’re drunk, Hatch. Six hours out of jail, and already drunk.”
“Two. I’m warning you, Mikhaela. It’s your fault if I hurt her!”
I saw Luke behind Hatch, inching forward, the pipe raised over his shoulder like a baseball bat.
“Three!”
Mikhaela screamed, and I slammed my fist down on the horn. The man jerked his head, and our eyes connected as the pipe slammed into his skull. He dropped to the ground, and the gun flew from his hand.
Luke straddled the body, his chest heaving. I scrambled out of the van, and Luke raised the pipe again.
“Luke, stop!” I yelled, hurtling toward him. “Put it down!”
He looked up at me, his face transformed into something so dark and disturbed, I spun to a stop. I locked my eyes on his and stretched my hand out, praying that the Luke I knew was still in there.
“You got him,” I said quietly, easing closer. “He can’t hurt them now.”
Please, please give me the pipe. You’re not a killer. You don’t want to kill him.
I saw Luke’s shoulders drop, and I held my breath as he lowered the pipe. I slid it out of his hands and heard Mikhaela whimper, “Is he dead?”
My heart was pumping like I’d been running flat out, and all my senses were ramped up.
Luke and the grandmother stayed where they were. I dropped the pipe on the snow and crouched by the
I watched her stroke her granddaughter’s hair. Streicker had demanded seven thousand to get this girl to Canada. He wasn’t like Father Gabriel, who risked his neck for the cause but would have never taken money for himself.
“Do you believe Streicker’s really going to smuggle her out?” I said to Luke.
“You think he’s lying?”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t it bother you that there’s a girl in his house with scars around her wrists? What if Streicker takes this woman’s money and does something bad to this girl?”
A truck roared up the drive, catching Mikhaela and her grandma in the headlights, and they broke apart.
“Holy mother, he’s speeding up,” Luke said.
“Brace yourself!” I said, grabbing hold of his seat.
The truck veered before it hit us, thumping across the dirt to a stop. Then a man hopped out, his coat half on and arms flailing as he landed awkwardly on the ground. “I came to take you home, Mikhaela. Get in the truck.”
The chained dog barked wildly, frantic to get at him. “Tell that dog to shut up!” he yelled.
“What should we do?” I whispered to Luke.
“Hold tight. Don’t do anything just yet.”
The woman stepped in front of her granddaughter. “What are you doing here, Hatch?”
“I came to pick up my daughter.”
“She’s not your daughter.”
“Law says she is.”
“Law says you’re not allowed within a hundred feet of us.”
“I got me a lawyer, and I’m getting custody.”
“Over my dead body.”
Hatch laughed. “So be it, old woman!” He drew a gun and pointed it at her face.
I gripped Luke’s shoulder. “What should we do?”
“This cannot happen.” Luke reached for the pipe.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I said, but it was too late. The van door released with a faint click, and Luke was out the door, cat quiet. He crept behind the truck and out of my sight.
I crawled into the front and peered out, praying that the dog would keep barking, and the man wouldn’t hear Luke behind him. I fished inside the glove compartment and under the seat, hoping Streicker had another weapon stashed away, but all I found was a crushed soda can and a first-aid kit.
Oh God, Luke, be careful!
The man wobbled ever so slightly. “You’ve got to the count of three to get in that truck, Mikhaela, before I blow your grandma’s head off that skinny body of hers. One.”
Mikhaela took a step toward her stepdad, but the old woman threw out her arms to hold her back. “You’re drunk, Hatch. Six hours out of jail, and already drunk.”
“Two. I’m warning you, Mikhaela. It’s your fault if I hurt her!”
I saw Luke behind Hatch, inching forward, the pipe raised over his shoulder like a baseball bat.
“Three!”
Mikhaela screamed, and I slammed my fist down on the horn. The man jerked his head, and our eyes connected as the pipe slammed into his skull. He dropped to the ground, and the gun flew from his hand.
Luke straddled the body, his chest heaving. I scrambled out of the van, and Luke raised the pipe again.
“Luke, stop!” I yelled, hurtling toward him. “Put it down!”
He looked up at me, his face transformed into something so dark and disturbed, I spun to a stop. I locked my eyes on his and stretched my hand out, praying that the Luke I knew was still in there.
“You got him,” I said quietly, easing closer. “He can’t hurt them now.”
Please, please give me the pipe. You’re not a killer. You don’t want to kill him.
I saw Luke’s shoulders drop, and I held my breath as he lowered the pipe. I slid it out of his hands and heard Mikhaela whimper, “Is he dead?”
My heart was pumping like I’d been running flat out, and all my senses were ramped up.
Luke and the grandmother stayed where they were. I dropped the pipe on the snow and crouched by the
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