Chapter 8 - The Father's Choice
Silence fell over the cabin, suffocating and cold.
Evelyn collapsed into a wooden chair, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “It’s my fault. I used my card... I didn't think... Oh God, Julian, he’s going to kill us all.”
Julian didn't panic. Panic was a luxury for men who had something to lose, and until twenty-four hours ago, he had nothing. Now, he had everything to fight for.
He walked over to the floorboards beneath the master bed. Prying up two loose planks, he revealed an old military-grade weapons trunk coated in cosmoline. He pulled out tactical armor, magazines, smoke canisters, and two silenced handguns.
“What are you doing?” Evelyn asked, looking up with red-rimmed eyes.
“Dominic gave me four hours,” Julian said calmly as he strapped the Kevlar vest beneath his black dress shirt. “That means his sweep team is already staging in the valley. But Dominic himself won't be in the woods. He’s sitting comfortably at the cannery in Astoria, waiting for a handover.”
“You’re going to give her up?” Evelyn shrieked in horror.
“Never,” Julian said, locking eyes with her. “I’m taking the fight to him. He expects a broken man on the run. He doesn't expect me to walk through his front door.”
He turned toward the small bedroom. Lily was standing in the doorway, holding her yellow coat by the zipper. She sensed the shift in the air; children always know when the world is about to bend.
Julian walked over and knelt before her. For the first time, he let his guard down entirely. He reached out and tucked her blonde curls behind her ear.
“Lily, Aunt Evelyn is going to take you to a very safe place in town. A church with a big bell tower. You’re going to stay inside until I come get you.”
“Are you going to fight the bad men?” she asked, her hazel eyes glistening.
“I’m going to make sure the bad men never look for you again,” Julian said softly.
Lily threw her small arms around his neck, hugging him with all her might. “Don’t get hurt, mister. Please.”
Julian closed his eyes, inhaling the sweet, simple scent of rain and soap. For five years, his life had been an empty desert. In this small, warm embrace, he found something worth dying for.
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“My name isn't mister, Lily,” he whispered into her hair. “My name is Julian. But if you want... you can call me Dad.”
Lily pulled back, looking at him with wide, understanding eyes. A tiny, fragile smile touched her lips. “Okay, Dad. Come back for me.”
