Chapter 8 - THE RECKONING ON THE STAIRCASEVictor spun around, dropping the syringe as Daniel Mercer materialized out of the dark hallway like an enraged apex predator.
Before Victor could draw a weapon from his holster, Daniel crossed the room in three massive strides and slammed his fist directly into Victor’s jaw.
The sound of bone cracking echoed through the nursery. Victor staggered backward, crashing hard against the mahogany dresser before collapsing onto the hardwood floor, unconscious.
Daniel didn't even look down at him. He dropped to his knees beside the bed, throwing his arms around Noah and pulling the boy tightly against his chest.
"Noah! Are you alright? Did he touch you?" Daniel breathed frantically, checking his son's arms and face for injuries.
"I’m okay, Dad," Noah whispered, trembling but managing a brave little smile. "I tried to reach my crutches."
Emily rushed into the room behind federal backup agents, her eyes wide as she took in the scene. She immediately knelt beside them, scanning Victor’s unconscious body and the dropped syringe on the floor.
"It’s a paralytic agent," Emily said, her face grim as she picked up the syringe with a gloved pen from her pocket. "If they had injected this, it would have paralyzed his nervous system completely, making it look like a sudden, irreversible relapse of his condition."
Daniel held his son tighter, burying his face in Noah’s soft hair as hot tears soaked his collar. The bullet had missed them by a millimeter. If they had been five minutes later...
"Dad," Noah whispered, tugging gently on Daniel’s suit jacket.
"Yes, buddy? What is it?"
"Can we go outside tomorrow?"
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Daniel looked down into his son's bright, courageous eyes—eyes that held the exact same fire as Claire’s.
"Not tomorrow, Noah," Daniel said, a fierce, protective smile breaking through his grief as he kissed his son’s forehead. "Every single day. For the rest of our lives."
