Part 2: The Confession of Broken Bones

The man in the white shirt forced a laugh. It was a thin, reedy sound that bounced off the wooden walls and died instantly. He looked at the men blocking the door, realizing that his expensive clothes and practiced intimidation meant absolutely nothing in this room. He was a wolf who had wandered into a bear's den.
“You’re making a mistake,” he said, his voice tightening. He pointed a manicured finger at Arthur. “You lay a hand on me, and I’ll have every cop in this county down your throat. I have friends in high places.”
Arthur didn't blink. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his flannel shirt, rolling the sleeves up over his forearms, revealing scars that told stories of a hard, unforgiving life.
“Mac,” Arthur called out, his eyes never leaving the younger man.
The bartender, a heavy-set man with a thick beard, didn't ask questions. He reached under the counter, pulled a heavy iron deadbolt across the front door, and flipped the neon ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’. The heavy click of the lock echoed like a gunshot.
“You don't have friends here,” Arthur said softly. “You have exactly three seconds to tell me where she is. One.”
The younger man panicked. He lunged forward, reaching into his jacket for a weapon, but he vastly underestimated the speed of a man fueled by a decade of rage.
Arthur moved with terrifying precision. Before the man could even clear his pocket, Arthur’s massive hand shot out, grabbing the man by the throat. He didn't just stop him; he lifted him off his toes and slammed him violently backward against the heavy oak pillar in the center of the room.
The breath exploded from the man’s lungs in a sickening gasp. The weapon—a sleek, black handgun—clattered uselessly to the floor. One of the locals stepped forward and kicked it into a corner.
“Two,” Arthur whispered, his grip tightening just enough to restrict the airflow, but not enough to put the man to sleep. He needed him awake. He needed him talking.
“She’s... she’s dead!” the man choked out, his face turning a mottled shade of crimson, his hands clawing desperately at Arthur’s unyielding arm. “Died years ago! The kid is mine!”
From beneath the table, Ellie screamed.
“He’s lying!” the little girl cried, scrambling out from under the booth and grabbing onto Arthur’s pant leg. “Mommy is alive! She’s locked in the basement! The house by the river! He said if I didn't run to the woods, he was going to make her disappear forever!”
Arthur’s heart hammered against his ribs. Alive.
He looked at the man pinned against the pillar. The absolute terror in the man’s eyes confirmed the child's words.
Arthur leaned in until his face was inches from the man’s. The smell of expensive cologne disgusted him.
“The house by the river,” Arthur stated, his voice a low, lethal hum. “Which one?”
The man spat a curse, refusing to speak.
Arthur didn't ask twice. He shifted his grip, grabbed the man’s right arm, and twisted it sharply behind his back, applying pressure until the joint screamed. The man wailed in agony, his knees buckling.
“The old Miller property!” the man shrieked, the pain breaking his resolve in seconds. “Five miles south! The one with the iron gates! Please, you’re breaking my arm!”
Arthur let him drop to the floor. The man collapsed, cradling his shoulder, gasping for air.
Arthur turned to the bartender. “Tie him to the radiator in the back room. When Sheriff Davies gets here, tell him I’ve got a head start. He’ll understand.”
Arthur knelt down, ignoring the ache in his knees. He looked at Ellie, who was trembling violently. He reached out and gently wiped a tear from her dirty cheek.
“You did so good, Ellie,” Arthur whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You were so brave. I’m going to go get your mom now. I’m bringing her back to you.”
Ellie threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. “Don't let him hurt her.”
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“He’s never touching her again,” Arthur vowed.
He stood up, grabbed his heavy canvas jacket from the booth, and walked out the back door into the raging storm. The hunt was over. It was time for the rescue.