Chapter 9 - The Scuffle and the Verdict
"Give me that phone!"
Elise broke.
She lunged forward like a feral creature, her delicate composure disintegrating entirely.
Her styled blonde hair whipped messily across her face, and her manicured nails flexed like talons as she reached for his hands.
Arthur didn't flinch or retreat.
He shifted his center of gravity, turning his broad back to protect Sophie, tucked safely under his left arm.
His right arm swung out in a wide, heavy arc, acting like a solid oak beam to intercept her path.
Elise slammed chest-first into his rigid forearm.
The force of the impact knocked the air from her lungs with a sharp gasp.
She scrambled frantically, her fingers scratching wildly at the fabric of his sleeve, trying desperately to reach the black glass rectangle in his palm.
Her sharp nail caught the back of his hand, tearing through the skin and leaving a thin red scratch that immediately began to bleed.
Arthur didn't even acknowledge the pain.
He effortlessly shoved her back with one arm, sliding the phone deep into his front trouser pocket.
He stood up to his full height, holding his daughter tightly against his ribs.
He looked down at the woman panting before him on the ruined grass.
When he spoke, his voice was unnervingly quiet—a flat, monotonous frequency that carried more terror than a scream ever could.
"Don't you ever come near my daughter again."
Elise stopped her clawing motions, her hands freezing mid-air.
The utter lack of anger in his voice signaled something far worse than rage. It was total, permanent severance.
Arthur adjusted his hold on Sophie, wrapping his warm hand over the back of her small head to keep her face hidden against his neck.
He turned his back on the woman in the cream dress without waiting for a response.
As he took his first step toward the house, he uttered two final words over his shoulder.
May you like
"You're done."
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