Chapter 2
The dirt flew beneath his paws.
Each scrape was weaker than the last.
His leg was clearly broken.
But he wouldn’t stop.
“Hey—what is it, boy?”
The ex-husband was running toward me now.
I could hear his boots thudding on the asphalt.
I stepped down into the ditch.
The grass was thick and wet.
The dog’s nose pushed through a tangled mat of weeds.
And then I saw it.
A small hand.
Pale.
Motionless.
“Oh my God.”
I dropped to my knees and tore at the grass.
“LILY!” the woman screamed through the phone.
The ex-husband slid down the embankment beside me.
He grabbed my shoulder and threw me backward.
I hit the mud hard.
The phone went flying.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said.
His voice was dead calm.
That was scarier than yelling.
I scrambled up and lunged at him.
We wrestled in the mud.
He was bigger.
Stronger.
But I had adrenaline on my side.
I drove my shoulder into his chest and we both went down.
Somewhere above us, the dog whined.
Then a weak voice called out from the grass.
“Max?”
It was a little girl.
The sound of her voice changed everything.
The ex-husband froze.
I used the split second to roll away and crawl toward the sound.
I pulled the grass aside.
Lily Carter was curled into a ball.
She couldn’t have been more than seven years old.
Her blonde hair was caked with dirt.
Her jeans were torn.
Her eyes fluttered open when she saw me.
“Are you the bad man’s friend?” she whispered.
“No, honey. I’m here to help.”
I reached for her.
The ex-husband was on his feet now.
He started walking toward us.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
“Lily,” he said softly. “Come to Daddy.”
The little girl flinched.
She pressed herself deeper into the mud.
“No,” she whimpered. “You hurt Max.”
That was when the dog did something incredible.
Broken leg and all.
He dragged himself between Lily and her father.
He bared his teeth.
A low, vicious growl rumbled in his chest.
The man stopped.
“Stupid mutt,” he spat. “I should’ve finished you the first time.”
He reached into his jacket.
I tensed, waiting for a knife or a gun.
But he pulled out his phone instead.
He dialed 911.
“Yes, I’d like to report an assault,” he said, still staring at me. “A man attacked me by the side of the road. He’s got my daughter. Send everyone.”
He hung up.
And smiled.
“Now we wait,” he said. “And when the cops get here, I’m going to tell them you took her. That you’ve been stalking my family for months. Who do you think they’ll believe? The concerned father or the random stranger covered in mud?”
My blood ran cold.
He was right.
I had no connection to this family.
No reason to be here.
He had a driver’s license with the same last name as the girl.
And he was clean.
Well-dressed.
Calm.
I looked like a man who’d just lost a fight.
“Sarah knows I’m here,” I said. “I was on the phone with her.”
His smile widened.
“The phone you threw in the mud? Let’s see how well it works now.”
I glanced over at where my phone had landed.
The screen was cracked.
Half-submerged in a puddle.
Dead.
Lily started crying.
Quiet, terrified sobs that broke my heart.
I knelt beside her and took her hand.
It was ice cold.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” I told her.
She squeezed my fingers.
“Max is hurt too,” she said. “He came to find me. Daddy hit him with the truck.”
The pieces clicked into place.
This wasn’t an accident.
None of it.
He’d taken his own daughter.
Brought her out here.
Left her in this ditch.
And when the dog came to rescue her…
He’d tried to kill him.
“You’re a monster,” I said.
He leaned against the embankment, arms crossed.
“Call me what you want. In ten minutes, the police will be here. And you’ll be the one in cuffs. Sarah’s been trying to keep Lily from me for two years. This is finally my way out.”
“Out of what?”
“Child support. Court dates. Her endless accusations. Once I have full custody, all of it stops. And I get the money.”
Money.
Of course.
“What money?”
“Lily’s grandmother left her a trust fund. Five hundred thousand dollars. Controlled by whoever has legal custody until she turns eighteen.”
He said it like he was discussing a utility bill.
“You’d do this to your own daughter for money?”
“Sarah would’ve wasted it on therapy and fancy vacations. I’ll invest it. Make it grow. Lily will thank me someday.”
I wanted to punch him again.
But I knew that would only help his story.
So I stayed where I was.
Between him and Lily.
Max stayed too.
Shaking.
Bleeding.
But never lowering his head.
We waited.
Each second felt like an hour.
I could hear sirens in the distance.
Getting closer.
The man pushed off the embankment and brushed off his jacket.
“Showtime,” he said.
He took a breath.
And then his face crumpled.
He looked like a terrified father.
“LILY!” he screamed, running toward us with his arms out. “OH MY GOD, BABY, DADDY’S HERE!”
The performance was perfect.
I almost believed it myself.
Two police cars skidded to a stop on the road above.
Officers poured out, guns drawn.
“DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!”
I raised my hands slowly.
The ex-husband threw himself on his knees beside Lily, sobbing.
“He took her,” he gasped at the officers. “I tracked him here. He hit my dog when I tried to stop him. Please—my little girl.”
One officer pulled me up and cuffed me.
Roughly.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Wait—you’ve got the wrong guy,” I said. “His ex-wife knows I was helping. Call Sarah Carter. She was on the phone with me.”
The officer didn’t even look at me.
“Sure, buddy. We’ll sort it all out downtown.”
They led me up the hill.
I looked back.
Lily was staring at me over her father’s shoulder.
Her eyes were wide with fear.
She mouthed two words.
Help me.
And as they put me in the back of the squad car, I saw something else.
The ex-husband looked up.
May you like
Right at me.
And through his tears, he winked.
