Chapter 25
The abandoned weigh station was illuminated by a single, flickering halogen light. A rusted semi-truck trailer sat in the corner, and next to it was a battered black SUV, its exhaust pipe puffing white smoke into the freezing night.
Ethan pulled his car into the center of the lot, his headlights shining directly onto the SUV’s windshield.
The high beams revealed Marcus Vance sitting in the driver’s seat. He was a large man with a jagged scar running down his neck, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Ethan stepped out of the car, lifting the canvas bag of cash into the air. “I have the money, Marcus! Let them go!”
Marcus rolled down his window, leaning his elbow out. “Toss the bag into the snow, cousin. Then walk back to your car.”
“Not until I see my wife and son,” Ethan shouted over the howling wind.
Marcus smirked. He reached into the backseat and dragged Lauren up by her hair. Her face was bruised, a strip of duct tape covering her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. Next to her, Noah was strapped into a car seat, crying silently, clutching his blue elephant.
The sight of his bruised wife broke something fundamental inside Ethan. The civilized construction manager died in that snowbank.
Ethan tossed the bag forward. It landed halfway between the two vehicles.
Marcus opened his door, stepping out into the cold, a heavy revolver clutched in his right hand. He walked toward the bag, his eyes never leaving Ethan.
But as Marcus bent down to pick up the cash, a loud, thunderous crack echoed through the night.
A rifle shot.
The bullet struck the snow inches from Marcus’s boot. Richard had fired a warning shot from the tree line.
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Marcus didn't panic. He smiled, lunged forward, grabbed the bag, and leveled his revolver directly at Lauren’s head through the open SUV door.
“Wrong move, old man!” Marcus screamed into the dark.
