Despised And Devoured By My Step Father

Miguel's Ambush

Chadwick's POV

The burner phone on the nightstand didn't just wake me up, it set a match to the gasoline in my veins. It was a low, ugly vibration that made the mahogany wood hum. I was upright before my brain even processed the sound, my Professor act I had been playing for months falling away like dead skin.

Beside me, Sarah didn't even move. She was dead to the world, probably dreaming of roses and diamonds that she didn't even know how I afforded them. I looked at her for a split second, feeling a sick twist in my gut. She had no idea that the man sleeping next to her was about to turn their house into a slaughterhouse.

The text was a punch to the throat: "Miguel found you. Perimeter breached. 30 seconds."

I didn't think. I just moved. I slipped out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floorboards with a quiet slap. In the closet, I shoved aside a row of silk ties and hit the hidden release. The wall groaned, a sound that felt like a scream in the quiet house and revealed the matte-black reality of my life. I grabbed the tactical rifle, the weight of it familiar and disgusting all at once. I checked the mag. Full. I tucked a suppressed 9mm into the waistband of my slacks, the cold steel biting into my skin.

I glanced at the CCTV tablet. Five shadows. They weren't fumbling around like petty thieves, they were moving in a tight, professional diamond formation across the lawn.

Then, the world exploded.

The front door didn't just open, it was erased. The blast rocked the house, a violent cr-ack that shattered the windows in the living room and turned the air into a thick, chalky soup of drywall dust and glass.

"Chad?!" Sarah’s voice from the bedroom was a jagged, panicked sound that made my teeth ache.

"Stay in the room! Get under the bed and lock the door!" I roared. My voice didn't even sound like mine anymore. It was deeper, a raw snarl stripped of that sweet nerdy husband warmth.

I leaned over the banister, the smell of cordite and burnt wood filling my lungs. I opened fire. The rifle bucked against my shoulder, a rhythmic, violent kick. The first guy through the door didn't do anything cool, he just folded. He hit the marble floor with a heavy, wet thud that echoed through the house. I caught the second one in the throat as he tried to dive for the fountain. He didn't die instantly, he gurgled, a sound of wet static, turning the water a dark, muddy red.

Bullets started chewing up the plaster around me, white dust swirling like a snowstorm. I dropped the empty rifle, drawing the 9mm as I vaulted over the railing. I hit the stairs hard, my knees groaning, and met the third guy at the bottom. He was a wall of tactical gear and muscle, reaching for a knife, but I was faster. I drove my elbow into his temple, the sound of bone crunching was sickeningly loud and slammed him into the wall.

I had my fingers around his throat, ready to finish it, when a voice froze the blood in my heart.

"Drop it, Sanchez. Or the boy gets a new sunroof."

I stopped. Everything stopped.

From the shadows of the dining room, a fourth man stepped out. He had a fistful of Danny’s hair, yanking my boy's head back so far his throat looked thin and fragile, like a piece of glass. Danny… my god. He looked like a ghost. His eyes were wide, the pupils blown with a terror so raw it made me want to vomit. A suppressed pistol was pressed hard into the soft skin of his temple.

Miguel's guy smirked, a jagged, yellow-toothed expression. "Wow. Miguel said you had gone soft, but I didn't think you had gone for the pretty boy aesthetic. He is a lean one, isn’t he? Does he know what you really do?"

"Let him go," I said, my voice dropping to a low, lethal rasp. My hands were shaking not from fear, but from the sheer, unadulterated need to kill this man. "This is between me and Miguel. The kid is just a student and my stepson. He doesn't know a damn thing."

"The kid is the only reason you haven't shot me yet," the man countered.

Before I could breathe, he threw something, a flash-bang. The world turned into a blinding, white roar. My vision went white, my ears ringing with a high-pitched scream I couldn't tell was mine or my boy. By the time I could see again, blinking through the stinging smoke, the living room was empty.

The front door was just a jagged hole leading out into the dark, humid night. Danny was gone.

The silence that followed was heavy, like a shroud. Then, Sarah started screaming again. She came flying down the stairs, her silk robe covered in white plaster dust, her hair a wild, tangled mess. Erica followed behind her, white-faced and shaking so hard she had to lean against the wall for support.

"They took him! Chadwick, they took Danny!" Sarah collapsed against me, her sobs racking her body in violent, messy heaves.

I held her, my face a mask of cold stone while my brain was already burning a path through every warehouse Miguel owned in the city. "It was armed robbers, Sarah," I lied. The words came out smooth and practiced, a mask over the monster. "They wanted the cash in the study. They took him as a shield to get to the car. They will drop him off."

The lie was bitter, but she needed it. When the local police arrived, useless men with sirens that only told the world they were coming, I cornered the Lead Detective in the kitchen. I grabbed him by the lapels and shoved him against the fridge until the metal groaned.

"This investigation stays quiet," I hissed, my eyes boring into his. "No press. No Amber Alerts. This was Miguel’s pack. If your men get in my way, they will end up in the same ditch I am digging for those bastards. You tell the Commissioner that Sanchez will handle this."

The detective just nodded, his throat working as he tried to find his breath. He had seen me several times in the state's commissioner's office, he knew damn well his boss was working for me.

I walked back into the living room. Elena had shown up by then, huddled with Erica around Sarah on the sofa. They were whispering comforts that meant nothing. I didn't look at them. I walked to the window, watching the first hint of gray light bleed into the sky.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in months.

"Rodriguez," I said when the line picked up. "Gear up. Bring the heavy stuff. Miguel took my boy."

"Your wife's son?" Rodriguez’s voice was gravelly.

"My boy," I corrected, my voice cracking just enough to show the hell I was about to unleash. "And I am going to burn everything Miguel owns until I get him back."

I hung up. The sun was coming up, and by the time it set, there were going to be a lot of empty chairs at Miguel’s table.