Chapter 18 - Protecting My Children In Non-Stop Suburb Home Chaos
I crept silently down the main staircase, keeping my back pressed firmly against the freshly painted drywall.
The sound of crawling and metallic scraping echoed loudly through the kitchen ventilation grate above the island counter.
With a deafening screech of bending metal, the kitchen vent cover burst outward, showering the quartz countertops with fiberglass insulation.
Marcus dropped down onto the kitchen floor, holding a heavy wrench and panting heavily with wild, desperate eyes.
“You should have let me walk, Ryan!” Marcus roared, charging across the kitchen island directly toward me.
I swung the heavy brass desk ornament with all my strength, catching him squarely across the shoulder and sending him crashing into the dining table.
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Before he could recover, three federal marshals swarmed into the kitchen from the side hallway with their tasers drawn.
“Stay down! Do not move!” the lead marshal shouted, deploying the prongs directly into Marcus’s chest.
