The Supreme Son in Law

Chapter 9

When Clara saw Ethan, a raw scream tore out of her throat.

She fell off the broken table onto her hands and knees. Sharp glass dug into her palms, but she did not feel it. She scrambled across the rug, threw her arms around Ethan’s legs, and gripped his trousers with all her strength.

"Ethan! Ethan!" she wailed, choking on her own tears and blood.

Her whole body was shaking violently. She buried her face against his waist, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

"He tried to... he tried to r**e me, Ethan!" Clara screamed, her voice cracking. "Please, get me out of here! Please take me home!"

Ethan did not say a word.

He took off his heavy dark coat. He wrapped the thick wool around Clara, pulling it over her torn blouse and bare shoulders, tucking it gently under her chin.

He bent down and lifted her into his arms.

Then he carried Clara out into the hallway.

Derek was still standing there, pressed flat against the wallpaper. His face was white as a sheet, and his knees were shaking. Ethan walked right past him as if Derek were invisible.

Ethan carried Clara to a red velvet sofa at the end of the hall and set her down.

He knelt on the floor in front of her. He placed his hands on the sides of her face, using his thumbs to wipe the blood and tears from her eyes.

"Clara. Look at me."

Clara opened her swollen eyes, gasping for breath.

"I am here," Ethan said softly. His voice was steady and warm. "Nobody will ever touch you again. You are safe now. Do you hear me?"

"Ethan, please," Clara wept, grabbing his wrists with her trembling fingers. "He's a monster... don't leave me out here..."

"I'm not leaving you," Ethan said. He moved her hands down and wrapped the coat tighter around her. "Close your eyes. Count to thirty. I will be right back."

Ethan stood up.

Clara reached out for him, but he was already walking away.

He walked back to the VIP room, stepped inside, and pulled the curtains shut behind him.

Inside the room, Lewis was leaning against the bar. He had pulled his pants up, but his belt was loose and his hairy chest was soaked in sweat. Blood from his cut nose dripped down his lips into his beard.

Seeing Ethan walk back in alone, Lewis spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

"What, you're her little husband?" Lewis sneered. He tried to sound tough, but his eyes were darting around the room. "Listen to me, boy. You ruined my door, but I'm a reasonable man."

Ethan did not answer. He started walking toward him. His boots made no sound on the carpet.

Lewis took a step back, his smile slipping.

"Look, your wife has a great body," Lewis said, raising his hands. "I get why you're pissed off. How about this? You let me finish with her tonight, and I will give you ten percent of the vial shipments. Hell, you can even stay and watch if you want—"

Before Lewis finished the sentence, Ethan’s right fist smashed into his jaw.

CRACK!

The sound was like a wooden plank snapping in two.

Two teeth flew out of Lewis's mouth and hit the wall. His head snapped back so violently his neck clicked. His eyes rolled into his head, and his knees gave out.

He started to collapse, but Ethan did not let him hit the floor.

Ethan’s left hand shot out, grabbed Lewis by the hair, and yanked his head upright.

CRACK!.

A second punch slammed square between Lewis's eyes.

Lewis's nose bone crushed completely flat against his skull. Blood sprayed across the wall behind him.

Lewis let out a wet, gurgling scream. He flailed his thick arms, trying to push Ethan away. "Wait... plea—"

Ethan grabbed Lewis by the throat, shoved him against the wall, and drove a third punch into his cheekbone.

CRACK!

The bone shattered under the leather glove.

Out in the hallway, Clara flinched on the sofa, pulling the coat over her ears. Derek slid down to the floor against the wall, clamping both hands over his mouth to stop from screaming. Every hit sounded like a sledgehammer smashing into wet meat.

Inside the room, Lewis was choking. Dark blood poured from his mouth and nose, running down his neck. He could not see out of either eye. He could not breathe.

Ethan let go of his throat.

Lewis fell hard onto his knees, coughing up red foam. His hands scratched weakly at the rug.

"Please," Lewis gurgled, staring up in pure terror. "Mercy..."

Ethan stepped in and hit him straight in the mouth again.

THUD!

More teeth broke. Lewis's lips split open to the bone.

Lewis fell flat on his stomach.

Ethan grabbed him by the back of his neck, dragged him up, and drove his fist into his face again.

SMACK!

And again.

SMACK!

And again.

THUMP!

Ethan did not yell. He did not breathe hard. There was no anger on his face. There was only the dull, heavy thud of his fist striking flesh and bone over, and over, and over.

CRUNCH!

CRACK!

Lewis stopped moving. His arms went completely limp.

His face was no longer recognizable. It was just a swollen, bloody mess of torn skin and cracked bones.

Ethan let go.

Lewis's heavy body slumped flat against the carpet, making a faint wheezing sound in his throat.

Ethan stood up straight.

The black leather gloves over his hands were completely soaked in red.

He reached into his pocket with clean fingers, pulled out a white handkerchief, and slowly began wiping the blood from the leather.

On the floor next to Lewis's head, a phone began to buzz.

The screen lit up against the bloody carpet:

Director Vance — City Land Bureau.

Ethan stepped over Lewis's body, reached down, and tapped the green button.