Chapter 8 - David's Last Instruction
I slapped David before I touched him.
Hard.
His head snapped sideways.
Then I hit him again.
Logan stared.
"Mommy!"
David did not stop me.
I grabbed his jacket.
"You were dead."
"I know."
"I buried you."
"I know."
"You let me tell our son his father was gone."
His face broke.
"I know."
That made me angrier.
"Stop saying that."
I pulled Logan from his arms.
David looked thinner.
A scar ran from his ear into his collar.
His left hand shook when he lowered it.
Denise lay unconscious near the wall.
"Did you hurt her?"
"She tried to take Logan."
"Did you hurt her?"
"Yes."
At least he did not lie.
Footsteps sounded from the far tunnel.
Nathan appeared.
David raised a gun instantly.
"Him."
Nathan stopped.
"David."
"Don't say my name."
I moved between them.
"Both of you put the guns down."
Neither did.
"I swear to God I will leave you both in this tunnel."
David lowered his first.
Nathan followed.
I looked at my husband.
"Why didn't you come home?"
He swallowed.
"I tried."
"When?"
"Three times."
"I never heard from you."
"Because every attempt brought Vale closer to you."
He pointed at Nathan.
"And because someone kept feeding him information."
Nathan's jaw clenched.
"I stopped."
"After you got me killed."
"I thought he was protecting you."
"You thought wrong."
I shouted, "Enough."
David looked at Logan.
Our son stared back.
"Are you my daddy?"
David's face collapsed.
He crouched.
"Yeah, buddy."
Logan touched his scar.
"You look different."
David laughed once, then cried.
No one said anything.
Then Denise groaned.
We all turned.
She opened her eyes.
Saw David.
And whispered one word.
"Vale."
Her hand moved toward her pocket.
David kicked the phone away.
It was already connected.
Speaker active.
Marcus Vale's voice filled the tunnel.
"David."
David froze.
Vale continued.
"Nice to hear you're still alive."
Then a second voice sounded in the background.
A woman.
Older.
Crying.
She said my childhood nickname.
"Kitty?"
My blood went cold.
Only one person had ever called me that.
My mother.
The woman I had buried twelve years earlier.
May you like
CUT.
