Chapter 7 - The Cost of Blood
"Get in the car," Mara whispered to Toby, not taking her eyes off Mercer.
"Mara—"
"Get in the driver’s seat! Now!"
Toby scrambled toward the blue station wagon, fumbling the keys Arthur had given him. Maya whimpered, her hands tightening in Mara’s hair.
"Mercer," Mara called out, taking a slow step toward the concrete pillar on her right, using the architecture to obscure the driver's side of the car. "You were an army engineer before you became Evelyn’s lapdog. I looked at your service record on the way to the gala. You served two tours in the Helmand Province rebuilding schools. How did you end up locking eight-year-old girls into hollow walls?"
Mercer didn't flinch. His face was stone. "Principles don't pay for pediatric oncology, Miss Bennett. My daughter had leukemia five years ago. When the insurance cap ran out, the Voss Foundation paid for her marrow transplant. Every cent of it."
He stepped closer, his boots making no sound on the oil-stained concrete.
"Evelyn Voss owns the hospital that saved my child’s life. She owns the air you're breathing right now. In this world, you pick a wall to stand behind, or you get crushed when it falls. Give me the girl."
"Your daughter lived," Mara said, her voice dropping into a register that made Mercer’s eyes flicker. "Maya’s mother didn't. Elena Vance is dead in a ditch in Jersey because she tried to protect her child from that same woman. Is that what your service was for, Mercer? To be the executioner for a billionaire who uses children as land collateral?"
For a fraction of a second, Mercer’s jaw tightened. The muscle along his cheek twitched.
It was all the opening Mara needed.
Toby threw the station wagon into reverse. The tires shrieked against the polished concrete, the rear bumper slamming violently into the support pillar directly beside Mercer’s men. The impact sent a cascade of concrete dust and industrial conduit crashing down between Mercer and Mara.
Mara dove into the open rear door of the station wagon as Toby slammed the transmission into drive.
"Hold on!" Toby yelled.
The car lunged forward, the engine roaring in protest as Toby barreled directly toward the garage exit barrier. Mercer drew his weapon, firing two controlled shots. The driver's side mirror shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, and a bullet punched through the rear windshield, showering the cargo deck with safety glass.
Mara threw her body over Maya, shielding the child with her own spine as the wagon shattered the wooden security arm and rocketed up the ramp into the cold, rain-slicked city streets.
Behind them, the garage vanished in a haze of smoke and red brake lights.
Mara sat up, brushing glass shards from her hair. Maya was trembling, but unharmed, staring wide-eyed through the blown-out rear window.
Then Mara’s phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a video call from an unlisted hospital line.
She swiped the screen.
Clara’s face appeared, illuminated by the harsh blue light of an operating theater. She was pale, her hair soaked with sweat, an oxygen cannula resting beneath her nose. A nurse in scrubs was holding the phone for her.
"Mara..." Clara’s voice was a ragged whisper. "They’re taking me in for an emergency C-section. The baby’s heart rate is dropping."
"Clara! I’m here, I’m right here," Mara cried, pressing the phone to her face.
"Evelyn’s lawyers... they’re outside the operating room," Clara gasped, a tear cutting through the dust on her cheek. "They have an order... to seal the ward after delivery. They’re going to take the baby, Mara. They’re telling the doctors I’m mentally unstable from the trauma... that I’m unfit..."
"They won't touch that baby!" Mara shouted over the roar of the car engine. "Do you hear me, Clara? Hold on! Do not let them sign anything!"
"Mara..." Clara’s eyes fluttered, the pain pulling her under. "Save Maya. If you save Maya... everything she built falls down. Don't come back for me. Break the foundation."
The screen went black. The call disconnected.
Mara stared at the dark phone, her breath catching in her throat until it felt like a knot of barbed wire. Beside her, little Maya reached out and touched Mara’s clenched fist.
May you like
"My mommy said that too," Maya whispered softly. "She said when bad people make you choose between two things you love, it means they’re already losing."
***
