I tug out my phone and dial. “Atom,” I say without waiting for a greeting. “Chase took Wren. Are you at the bar?” I hold my breath that he’s at the apartment above it.
“I am. Where are you?”
“We’ll be swinging by in less than a minute in Wraith’s truck. Be outside, or we’ll just ride straight past.”
Breathless, I hang up without waiting for an answer. I need to think.
“Good idea calling Atom. Safety in numbers,” Wraith says.
“We gotta fucking get Wren. You saw what Chase wanted to do to them.”
“Don’t go there.” The truck’s headlights flash as Wraith unlocks the doors. “It’s a dangerous thing to make up endings before they happen.”
We dive into the truck and Wraith guns the engine so hard, the back of the truck fishtails when we turn the corner.
“Are you sure it’s Chase? Did you see him?” Wraith asks. “Is Wren maybe trying to escape or some shit? Did you argue?”
“No. Nothing at all like that. We were just picking up dinner. We were great. Chase is the only reason.”
I notice Wraith is just in a shirt and his cut. He didn’t bother to grab his jacket. Just ran when I needed him. It’s a reminder the others will too.
“I’ll call for more backup,” I say, more to myself. The need to do something burns. Because just sitting in the truck isn’t enough.
The heat is on high, the fan blowing. I feel like my skull is about to implode because everything I’m afraid of is happening.
“Grudge,” I say when he answers. “Chase…he got…fuck…he got Wren. They drove off east down Main Street.”
“I’ll call the lookout on the edge of town to see if he spots them. Do you know what vehicle they’re in?”
“My truck.”
“Share your live location in the chat. You alone?”
I see Atom run from the apartment entrance at the side of the bar. He’s wearing a denim shirt, but in his arms are a random assortment of weapons and a bundle of clothing.
“No, I’m with Wraith and Atom in Wraith’s truck.”
“Stick together. I’ll gather the others. We’ll get Wren back, River. It’s what we do.”
As I hang up and share my location as Grudge asked, I realize I can’t remember the last time he called me by my first name.
Wraith skids to a halt by Atom, who jumps into the rear of the truck while the wheels are still sliding. “I brought shit. Didn’t know what we needed. What the fuck happened?”
I fill him in. The last-minute decision to grab food. Leaving Wren in the truck. The truck screaming out of town.
“Fuck,” Atom mutters. He slides his arms into his thick jacket and pulls his coat over the top. “I brought some handguns and a shotgun.”
“We might need ‘em,” I say.
Bile rises in my stomach. I’m gonna puke if I don’t do something. “Fuck,” I mutter.
“I grew up on these roads,” Wraith says. “There’s no way some fucknut from out of town can go faster around these bends in snow than I can.”
“It’s gonna be an impossible trail to follow,” I say, immediately overwhelmed.
“Keep your head,” Atom says. “We’ll find Wren. It’s a non-negotiable.”
His phone rings, and then he answers. “Grudge.”
