Chapter 7 - The Breach in the Nursery
The man in the tactical jacket moved with chilling, practiced efficiency. His face was half-concealed by a black balaclava, revealing only cold, calculating eyes.
"Move aside, maid," the intruder rasped, his voice modulated by a digital filter, the barrel of the silenced pistol leveled squarely at Jo’s chest. "Mr. Cole’s business has reached its expiration date. We just need to tidy up a few loose ends left over from last year."
Jo didn't flinch. Her feet were planted firmly on the floorboards, her breathing steady despite the lethal weapon inches away. "You're about six feet too short on courage to touch those boys," she said, her voice icy and deadpan.
"Jo—!" Nathaniel shouted from the doorway, launching himself forward.
In a split second, the intruder whipped around to fire at Nathaniel, but Jo didn't wait. With the agility of someone who had spent years fighting to protect her own family in rough neighborhoods, she lunged forward, slamming a heavy brass floor lamp directly into the intruder’s wrist.
The pistol clattered against the hardwood floor with a sharp metallic clatter.
Cursing violently, the assassin spun back and struck Jo across the face with the back of his hand. She stumbled, hitting the edge of the mahogany dresser, but managed to hook her foot behind the man’s ankle, sending him crashing down hard onto the carpet.
Nathaniel crossed the room in two strides, pouncing on the intruder. All the pent-up grief, rage, and betrayal of the last fourteen months channeled into his fists. He slammed his fist into the man's jaw once, twice, three times, until the intruder went limp, unconscious.
Silence crashed back into the room, broken only by the ragged breathing of the twins huddled in terror under the blankets.
Nathaniel scrambled off the man, his hands bloody, and immediately turned to Jo. She was pressing a cloth to her split lip, a dark bruise already forming along her cheekbone.
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"Are you insane?" Nathaniel breathed, his hands hovering uncertainly over her shoulders. "He had a gun!"
"And you have two kids in that bed who have already lost their mother," Jo whispered back, spitting a drop of blood onto the rug and offering a lopsided, defiant grin. "What was I supposed to do, offer him tea?"
