Chapter 4: Escalation
Garrick’s next moves followed a predictable curve.
He attempted to contact my mother through three different intermediaries. Each attempt was documented and reported. He filed a response to the divorce petition claiming alienation and false allegations. He also began parking at uneven hours on the street near the hotel’s general area, close enough to suggest knowledge, not close enough to violate the order outright.
I moved my mother to a second location on the third night. Different district, different registration method, tighter access control. The first hotel had served its purpose. Predictability was a liability.
That same night Garrick sent another text, this time to a number he should not have had—an old secondary line I had not used in months.
You took something that belongs to me. Bring her back or I’ll come collect what’s mine.
I did not answer.
I forwarded the message to Ethan, logged the timestamp, and added it to the file. Then I stood in the dark kitchen of my own house and reviewed the exterior camera feeds. The street was quiet. The porch light cast a clean circle across the front steps.
He would come here before he found the second hotel.
The logic was simple. I was the visible obstacle. My address was known. And Garrick’s version of power had always depended on physical presence and the assumption that fear would do the rest.
I checked the locks, confirmed the silent alerts were active, and sent Ethan a short message.
Front door is the likely point of contact. Timing unknown. He’ll want an audience of one.
The reply came within minutes.
We’ll be ready.
I set the phone down and looked once more at the dark hallway leading toward the entrance.
May you like
Fourteen years of work had taught me that certain men announced themselves long before they arrived. Garrick had been announcing himself for weeks.
All that remained was to let him finish the trip.
