"Your son?" I can't believe what I'm hearing. "You wanted me to abort him! You told me to get rid of the problem!"
"I was scared! I was young!" Marcus's voice turns pleading. "But I've grown up, Ruby. I'm ready to be a father now. Let me prove it. Let me—"
"No." The word comes out firm, final. "You had your chance. You made your choice. And I made mine. I chose my son. I choose him every single day."
"Ruby—" my mother starts.
"Get off my property." I'm not shouting anymore. My voice is cold and steady. "All of you. Get off my property right now, or I'm calling the police."
"You can't—" my father begins.
"I can." I meet his eyes, refusing to back down. "This is my home. You're trespassing. And you just witnessed your buddy here assault my neighbor. So, unless you want me to press charges, I suggest you leave."
The stranger nods approvingly. "You heard her. Time to go."
My father's jaw works, and I can see him calculating. Weighing his options. He's always been strategic, always thinking three steps ahead. But right now, he's got nothing. No leverage, no power.
"This isn't over," he says finally. "We'll be back with lawyers. With court orders. And we will get our grandson."
"You do that," I say. "But you're not getting him today. So, leave."
Marcus pulls his hands away from his face, revealing a nose that's already swelling, already turning purple. Blood covers his chin and neck. "You're going to pay for this," he tells the stranger. "I'm pressing charges."
"Go ahead." The stranger sounds completely unconcerned. "Like I said, self-defense. You swung first."
Marcus opens his mouth, then closes it. He knows he's beaten.
My mother is crying openly now, mascara running down her cheeks. "Ruby, please. Please don't do this. That baby needs—"
"His mother." I cut her off. "He needs his mother. And I'm right here. I've always been right here."
My father grabs my mother's arm, pulling her toward the porch steps. "Come on, Helen. We're wasting our time."
Marcus follows them, still cupping his bleeding nose. As they reach the bottom of the steps, he turns back to glare at me. "This isn't over, Ruby. You can't hide from us forever."
"I'm not hiding," I tell him. "I'm living. There's a difference."
They walk away, my parents' expensive car parked at the curb. Marcus gets in the back seat, probably trying not to bleed on the leather. My mother looks back at me one more time, her face crumpling with grief, before my father practically shoves her into the passenger seat.
The engine starts. They drive away.
And just like that, it's over.
My legs give out. I slide down against the doorframe, clutching Liam to my chest as he cries and cries. My whole body shakes with adrenaline and fear and relief all mixed together.
The stranger turns around, and I see him clearly for the first time. He's young, maybe mid-twenties, fully tattooed with dark hair and brown eyes that look older than they should.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.
I want to say yes. I want to be strong and capable and prove to him, and to myself, that I can handle this.
Instead, I burst into tears.
Chapter 3 - Chaos
Shit.
I've faced down armed Iron Eagles members without flinching. I've taken bullets and knives and broken bones without shedding a tear. But watching this young woman crumble against her doorframe, sobbing while her kid cries in her arms, makes something in my chest crack wide open.
