Chapter 8 - THE BREAKING POINT
That evening, Daniel cornered me in the underground parking garage of my downtown loft building, where I had gone briefly to retrieve some remaining winter clothes with a police escort waiting upstairs.
The motion-activated fluorescent lights flickered on as I unlocked the trunk of my car.
“You’re enjoying this, aren't you?”
I froze. Daniel stepped out from the shadows near the concrete pillar, his hair unkempt, his eyes wild and desperate. He had bypassed the parking security gate using an old master fob.
“Daniel. The police are upstairs. You’re violating the restraining order again. You’re going straight to jail,” I said, turning slowly to face him while keeping my weight centered and balanced on my back foot, exactly as my father taught me.
“Jail?” He let out a harsh, manic laugh, taking a slow step toward me. “Do you know what you’ve done? They suspended me indefinitely. Apex is investigating my accounts. My entire life’s work is burning down because you couldn't just play your part and keep your mouth shut!”
“Your life is burning down because of what you did to Melissa, and what you tried to do to me,” I said steadily, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a tremor in my voice.
Daniel lunged forward, his hands reaching out to grab my shoulders, desperate to shake me, to regain control through sheer physical dominance.
He miscalculated entirely.
Instead of panicking, I dropped my center of gravity, pivoted on my heel, and drove my palm upward into the bridge of his nose with a sickening crunch.
As he staggered backward, clutching his bleeding nose with a howl of agony, I followed up with a sharp kick to his thigh that sent him sprawling onto the cold concrete floor of the parking garage.
Before he could push himself up, heavy footsteps echoed down the ramp.
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“Stay right there! Police! Don't move!” shouted Officer Miller, drawing his flashlight and running toward us with his partner close behind.
Daniel lay curled on the concrete, bleeding onto his expensive designer shirt, gasping for air as the steel handcuffs clicked firmly around his wrists.
