Chapter 3
Two days later, Sheriff Miller showed up at my house.
He leaned against my porch rail, looking serious.
"Mind if I come in?"
I let him inside.
He sat at my kitchen table, hat in his hands.
"The man you caught the other night," he said. "His name is Carter Vance."
I waited.
"He's got connections," the sheriff said. "Family with money. Influence. And word is... they're angry."
"Let them be angry," I said.
"Be careful," he warned. "Vance has brothers. And they're looking for you. They want to teach whoever did this a lesson."
I leaned forward.
"Let them come."
That night, I sat on my porch steps, waiting.
Around midnight, two cars pulled up.
Four men got out. Big men. Mean-looking.
They walked right up to my steps.
One of them—broad-shouldered, scar across his jaw—stepped forward.
"You the girl who put my brother in the hospital?"
"I am," I said, standing up.
He laughed.
"Brave. I'll give you that. But you messed with the wrong family."
"Your brother hunted girls after dark," I said. "He got exactly what he deserved."
He stepped up onto the porch.
"Nobody talks to us like that."
He reached for me.
I caught his arm. Twisted it behind him. And drove him to his knees.
His friends rushed me.
I spun away from the first kick. Blocked a punch from the second. Ducked under the third.
It was over in less than a minute.
All four of them lay on the grass, groaning.
The one I'd started with glared up at me.
"You think this is over?" he snarled. "Our father... he's powerful. He'll ruin you. Ruin this whole town."
"Tell him I'll be waiting," I said. "And tell him to send someone who knows how to fight."
They dragged themselves up and drove away.
I watched them leave.
May you like
My heart beat fast. Not from fear. From knowing something much bigger was coming.
And I was going to be ready.
