Chapter 4 - The Judgment Of The Father
My father stood in the doorway of the kitchen,
a living embodiment of power and fury,
his cold eyes taking in the scene.
He saw the shattered glass,
the weeping woman on the floor,
the pathetic,
groveling man clutching his stomach.
Then,
his gaze swept downward,
and he saw me,
pale,
trembling,
lying in a pool of my own blood.
The stoic mask cracked,
and for a fraction of a second,
he was just a heartbroken father,
staring at his injured little girl.
"Medics!"
he bellowed,
his voice echoing with a raw,
ferocious desperation,
"Get to her, right now!"
Two men with medical insignia rushed past him,
dropping to their knees beside me,
opening their advanced trauma kits with lightning speed.
"Pulse is weak,"
one medic shouted,
"BP is dropping rapidly,"
"we need to secure the bleeding,"
"and get her to the chopper immediately."
My father knelt beside me,
ignoring the blood that soaked into the knees of his expensive trousers,
and took my face gently in his large,
warm hands.
"I am here, sweetheart,"
he whispered,
his thumb brushing a tear from my cheek,
"Daddy is here,"
"and no one will ever hurt you again."
I tried to speak,
to tell him I was sorry for hiding,
but all that came out was a soft,
broken sob.
"Shh,"
he soothed,
kissing my forehead,
"save your strength,"
"we are taking you home."
As the medics carefully transferred me onto a portable stretcher,
securing me for transport,
my father slowly stood back up.
The sorrow in his eyes vanished,
replaced by a dark,
bottomless rage that seemed to suck the oxygen out of the room.
He turned slowly,
his gaze locking onto Carter,
who was still gasping for air on the floor.
My father walked over to him,
his footsteps deliberately slow,
and stood above him like a god of judgment.
"You,"
my father said,
his voice dropping to a terrifying,
lethal whisper,
"you are the coward who strikes pregnant women."
Carter looked up,
his face pale and tear-stained,
recognition finally dawning in his terrified eyes.
He knew who Arthur Sterling was,
everyone in the legal and political world did,
and Carter knew,
with absolute certainty,
that he was looking at the man who could erase his existence.
"I am sorry,"
Carter whimpered,
crawling backward,
trying to escape the shadow of the titan.
"I did not know,"
he pleaded,
"she lied,"
"she said you were nobody,"
"she said you were just a farmer."
"And so you abused her,"
my father stated,
tilting his head,
analyzing the pathetic creature before him.
"You thought she had no protection,"
"no family to defend her,"
"so you showed her your true nature."
Eleanor dragged herself forward,
her aristocratic pride completely shattered,
reaching out to touch my father's shoes.
"Please, sir,"
Eleanor cried,
"we are a good family,"
"we have connections,"
"my brother-in-law is the district attorney,"
"we can make this right."
My father looked down at her,
disgust twisting his features,
and he stepped back as if avoiding a diseased animal.
"Your brother-in-law,"
my father said smoothly,
"was forced to resign twenty minutes ago,"
"his assets have been frozen,"
"and he is currently in federal custody for corruption."
Eleanor gasped,
May you like
clutching her chest,
as her entire world collapsed in a single sentence.
