Chapter 17 Marco
Marco
My mother is going to burn something tonight.
Or blow something up.
Or both.
I know the signs.
It’s how she’s always been.
I finally understand why my father could never stand being in the same room with her for more than a few minutes. Even when I was a kid, there was something wrong in the air when she walked in, like the room itself knew danger had arrived.
She doesn’t fight fair.
She fights cruel.
And when she starts losing…
She makes the world bleed.
I stand by the window, watching the quiet street outside while the others move Laney and the baby into the back room to prepare for relocation.
The town looks peaceful.
Too peaceful.
A few lights glow in the distance. A truck rolls slowly down the road. Somewhere, a dog barks once and then goes quiet.
People going about their night.
People who have no idea a war just stepped into their lives.
Saint hasn’t moved from the child’s side.
Not once.
Not even for a second.
Good.
He’s exactly the kind of man I hoped he was.
Trigger walks over and stops beside me, folding his arms as he scans the street.
“If she can’t get to them,” he says quietly, “she’ll hit the town.”
“Yes.”
There’s no doubt in my mind.
“She’ll want witnesses. Fear spreads faster when people see it.”
Trigger exhales slowly. “And she won’t care who she hurts to send the message.”
My phone buzzes.
Once.
Sharp.
Deliberate.
A secure number.
I don’t need to look.
I already know who it is.
I let it buzz in my hand for a second before glancing down.
The screen lights up.
A photo.
Fire.
Bright orange flames tearing through the front of a small shop.
I recognize it instantly.
Main Street.
One of the oldest buildings in town.
Smoke curls into the night sky like a signal flare.
A message appears beneath the photo.
You cannot hide from me.
For a moment I close my eyes.
Because this…
This is only the beginning.
“She’s started,” I say quietly.
Trigger is already moving before I finish the sentence.
“Saint.”
Saint looks up instantly, every protective instinct in his body snapping to attention.
The room shifts from quiet planning to full combat readiness in less than a heartbeat.
I don’t soften the truth.
“She just lit the first match.”