The boy who had attempted to take his own mother hostage and threaten Dean screamed. The dagger he had been reaching toward his mother slipped from his grip. His right palm, which had held the dagger, now sported a dark red, bruised indentation.
He screamed and stumbled backward.
No matter how hard I try, I can't understand why this officer saw through me at a glance!
But Dean wasn't about to give anyone a chance to cause an unexpected problem.
With one stride, he pushed the hapless mother aside, grabbed the boy's hair with his left hand, and forcefully slammed his head against the wall.
Once the boy was dazed, Dean casually removed the backpack he was wearing.
As soon as he got his hands on the backpack, he breathed a sigh of relief.
It's secure!
This backpack, which didn't look very big, weighed almost twenty pounds and felt soft to the touch; it was almost certainly Sarah and Harry's daughter.
