Page 87 of Heart of a Hero

“Laura!” Mark called into the phone, his breath quickening as they turned onto Karen’s street. “Get everyone to the back door. If Alan forces his way inside, you take the kids and get out of sight.”

“But what about Mom... I can’t?—”

“Laura, listen to me,” Mark interrupted, his voice breaking but resolute. “Your mom will do everything to keep you safe. If you’re not there, we have a better chance of stopping him.”

A ragged sob escaped Laura, but she finally whispered, “Okay.” The sound of her breath, rough and uneven, sent a pang through Mark’s chest.

Red and blue lights flashed behind them as more sheriff’s vehicles pulled up, the sense of urgency mounting with each passing second. Mark scanned the street, pointing at a property two houses down. “There. Pull in there. We’ll go on foot.”

Brad nodded, radioing in their position as he stopped the car. The silence that followed was deafening, punctuated only by the distant hum of approaching deputies. Mark stepped out, drawing his weapon as adrenaline surged through him. He moved quickly, heart thundering in his chest, cutting through the neighbor’s yard to avoid being seen. The hedge lining Karen’s property gave him just enough cover.

Mark paused at the back of Karen’s fence, peering between the slats. His stomach lurched as he saw Alan shoving Karen toward the front door, her desperate cries for the kids to get away piercing the air.

“Goddammit,” Mark muttered, his throat tight with fear.

“Look,” Brad whispered, pointing toward the right.

Laura crouched low, ushering Olivia and Zannie through the back door. The girls were crying, their small bodies trembling, but Laura’s grip on them was firm, and her eyes were wide with fear. Mark’s heart twisted at the sight of them, so vulnerable, so terrified.

“Call it in,” he ordered Brad, his voice steely as he moved through the side yard, careful to avoid any windows. As he approached, Olivia spotted him, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Zannie’s tear-streaked face was buried in Laura’s side, her tiny shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

A female deputy appeared beside Brad, her gun drawn. She moved to cover the girls, her weapon aimed protectively over their heads. Mark crouched before Laura, grabbing her hand and willing her to focus on him. “The boys?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent. “Where are they?”

“They wouldn’t leave Mom,” Laura choked out, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Mark’s heart splintered. “No, sweetheart,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “You did the right thing. The absolutely right thing.” He squeezed her hand, his gaze fierce and full of love. “Go now. Do what your mom wants. I’ll get her. I promise.”

Zannie looked at him, her face tear-streaked. “Mom has a black eye, and her lip is bleeding. Alan hits her sometimes when he’s mad.”

He nodded. “Okay, baby. We’re going to take care of it,” he promised.

The female deputy kept her weapon steady, her gaze unwavering as she pressed her back against Laura's, guiding the three terrified girls toward the fence, every step urgent but measured. The weight of the situation clung to the air, thick and suffocating. Laura's breaths were shallow, her hands trembling as she clung to the girls, but the deputy’s calm presence was their lifeline, shepherding them beyond the fence and out of immediate danger.

Brad met them, his expression hard but reassuring. "Stay with them," he ordered again, his voice low but firm. He bent low and sprinted toward the back of the house, his movements swift and calculated. He positioned himself by the sliding glass door.

Mark edged closer to the kitchen window and peered inside, his heart hammering in his chest. The shouts of the deputies in the front calling for Alan to give himself up met his ears, but he knew a desperate man like Alan would not give up without a fight. The kitchen was eerily still inside the house, a calm beforethe inevitable storm. He wondered where the boys had gone, his stomach twisting with fear.

His pulse pounded relentlessly, his every instinct screaming to protect his son and Karen—the woman he loved. The weight of that love threatened to buckle his knees.

He crept toward the sliding glass door the girls had left ajar in their haste. It was a small mercy. He motioned to Brad, his ears straining to pick up the voices inside.

“You stupid bitch!” Alan’s voice tore through the quiet, filled with venom and malice. “You had to come get your kids. Like you ever gave a damn about them before! What made you think this was a good idea?”

Carla’s voice followed, high-pitched and wild. “Look at this house! It’s better than anything I ever had. Those kids are mine! They don’t belong here!”

Mark’s jaw clenched, fury building inside him.

“Jesus, you’re a fucking idiot,” Alan spat. “Where are they, huh? Nurse bitch, where did the kids go?”

Karen’s voice came again, softer now, almost pleading. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Shut up!” Alan’s growl sent a shiver down Mark’s spine. He didn’t have a clear shot at Alan from his position, and Brad’s glance confirmed the same.

Footsteps thundered from upstairs, followed by Carla’s panicked wail. “They’re not here! There’s no one up here!”

“I told you, they’re gone,” Karen said, her voice shaky but resolute.

Carla’s hysteria rose, her words rapid and desperate. “The cops are at the front, Alan! What are we going to do?”

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