Chapter 5 - The Master of the House
A tall silhouette filled the doorway.
Even in the deep shadows, the broad shoulders and stiff, imposing posture were unmistakable. Jason stood on the threshold, wearing a dark sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. One hand rested casually on the doorframe, while the other held a heavy, long-handled flashlight, though it wasn't turned on.
"Well, well," Jason’s voice cut through the damp night air, smooth, even, and entirely devoid of surprise. "Looks like we have an uninvited guest."
David felt a cold rage ignite in his chest, hot enough to burn away the terror. He stepped forward, shielding Emily entirely behind his body.
"What did you do to her, you bastard?" David snarled, his voice echoing off the privacy panels. "Why was she locked in that cage? Open your mouth before I tear you apart right here."
Jason slowly stepped out onto the patio, his sneakers squelching softly against the wet flagstones. He didn't raise his voice; his calm, measured demeanor was infinitely more disturbing than if he had charged forward in a rage.
"David, you're trespassing," Jason said, shaking his head with a slow, patronizing sigh. "And you're making a terrible scene. You always were prone to dramatics. That's probably why Sarah couldn't stand living with you."
"Where is Sarah?" David demanded, his eyes darting toward the dark interior of the kitchen behind Jason. "Where is she?"
Jason paused, a faint, humorless smile touching the corners of his mouth. "Sarah isn't available right now, David. She had a... disagreement with how things were being handled around here. She needed to take some time away to think."
"Don't lie to me!" David shouted, taking another aggressive step forward. "Mrs. Harris saw you out here last night! She saw what you threw into that pool!"
At the mention of the pool, Jason’s relaxed posture shifted. A hard, cold glint flashed in his eyes, and his grip on the heavy flashlight tightened until his knuckles turned white.
"Old lady Harris spends too much time staring through her blinds," Jason said quietly, his tone dropping an octave. "And you, David, are sticking your nose into matters that don't concern you. Put the girl down and walk back over that fence. If you do that right now, I might let you leave in one piece."
Emily whimpered behind David, her small hands clutching the back of his shirt. "Daddy, he has a knife in his pocket. I saw it when he locked the cage."
David’s eyes dropped to Jason’s right hand, which had slipped casually into the pocket of his sweatshirt. The fabric sagged heavily, weighted down by a long, hard edge.
"You're not going to get away with this, Jason," David said, his voice deadly steady as he backed up half a step toward the fence while keeping his eyes locked on his adversary. "The police are going to be through that front door in ten minutes."
Jason chuckled—a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down David’s spine.
"Let them come," Jason said, stepping off the patio and moving slowly across the weed-choked lawn, directly blocking the path to the dividing fence. "They won't find anything that can't be explained away. But you... you're trespassing on private property in the middle of the night, acting erratic and aggressive. Who do you think a judge is going to believe when I tell them you broke into my backyard and threatened me?"
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Before Jason could lunge, Emily leaned around David’s side, her small face streaked with tears, and whispered words that shattered the tense stalemate completely.
"Daddy... Mommy tried to stop him. That's why she wouldn't open the door."
