Chapter 11 - The Sedan Door
The driver's hand locked onto my forearm, his grip iron-hard and rehearsed, trying to pivot me away from the rear door of the sedan. I didn't fight his leverage; instead, I dropped my weight, driving my shoulder directly into his chest with a sudden, violent lurch that caught him off balance. He stumbled backward against the quarter-panel of the black car with a dull thud, his breath escaping him in a sharp hiss.
Eleanor stepped back, her composure finally cracking as her eyes widened in genuine alarm. "Stop this at once! Call the gates—tell them to lock the perimeter!"
I didn't look at her. I reached past the recovering driver, grabbed the heavy chrome handle of the rear passenger door, and pulled. It clicked, but the electronic locks held firm against my tug. Inside, through the dark glass, my daughter's face appeared, her wide, tearful eyes staring straight at me as her small fingers pressed frantically against the window.
"Dad!" her muffled voice cried out from inside the sealed cabin.
I turned back to the driver, who was pushing himself off the car body, his face flushed with anger as he reached inside his jacket. Before his hand could clear his coat, I drove my fist into the center of his chest, hard enough to drop him back against the metal door. He slumped down onto the damp paving stones, gasping for air, his radio crackling with static against his lapel.
With my elbow, I struck the reinforced window glass of the rear door once, twice, the thick laminate holding firm until I wrenched the exterior handle with all my weight. A mechanical relay inside the door panel groaned under the strain, and the lock mechanism finally gave way with a sharp snap.
I pulled the door open wide, flooding the dark interior with cold daylight.
My daughter shrank back into the leather seat for a split second before recognizing me, a sudden, blinding wave of relief washing over her small features. She dropped her drawing pad onto the floorboards and threw her arms out toward me.
"Dad!"
I reached in, unclipped her safety harness with fumbling fingers, and scooped her up into my arms, pressing her small, shivering frame tightly against my chest. Her blonde hair brushed against my chin, smelling faintly of lavender shampoo and cold air.
"I've got you," I whispered against her ear, my voice thick with a sudden, overwhelming rush of adrenaline and grief. "I've got you, sweetheart. We're going."
Eleanor lunged forward, grabbing at my sleeve. "You cannot do this, you are violating every court—"
"Get away from us, Eleanor," I said, turning my head to look down at her with a coldness that felt entirely foreign yet completely necessary. "If you take one step closer, I will tear down every wall you've built to hide her."
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I backed away from the sedan, holding my daughter tight as she buried her face in my neck, her small hands clutching the lapels of my cream blazer. Behind us, the estate's internal alarm systems began to wail, a low, pulsing klaxon echoing across the stone courtyard from the main house. Security guards in dark suits were rounding the corner of the fountain, breaking into a run, their boots clattering heavily against the Belgian blocks.
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