They’ve got her.
Barry has fucking tied up my mom.
His own mother-in-law.
It’s not only been a day, and he’s already decided he’s going to push my hand to get Saint and Regina. I should have known this wasn’t going to go to fucking plan.
Swallowing hard, I open the photo to see my mom. She’s hunched up on our kitchen floor. It’s dark, but the shadows blotched over her face and arms tell me she’s been hurt.
A sob breaks free, but I’m not upset.
Oh no.
My body is shuddering from violence. From the fucking audacity he has at laying his hands on my mom.
I can feel my blood pressure go sky bound, my breathing coming in quick succession as the wrath threatens to take me in a chokehold.
No.
I can’t let it.
I’m not going to let this shit simmer until I get my hands on him.
I bolt from my bed, shoving on Ultio’s get-up gear and my puffer jacket, yanking my hair in a low pony which takes twoattempts with the tremor in my hands. Just when I reach down to grab the phone, it chimes again in my grip.
Unknown: Maybe she needs to die for you to take this seriously?
“No!” I snap, my voice breaking as I drag in a breath.
Think, Indie. Fucking. Think.
I need to buy myself some time. Time is all I seem to fucking need these days but can never get enough. Saint and Rex aren’t here; they’d have a plan thought up in minutes.
I need to do this one on my own.
My fingers fly across the screen, the shaking causing me to correct my mistypes multiple times. He can’t know I’m frantic.
Me: Give me a couple hours, and they’ll be at the manor.
My thumb hovers over the send, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I hit the green button. The whooshing sounds as loud as church bells on a Halloween night.
The reply comes immediately.
Unknown: I’ll keep Mama Grace company until I know for sure.
Unknown: And just for future reference, my patience and my boredom run out very quickly.
Stuffing my phone into my pocket, I charge through the corridor, boots thundering off the tiles as I reach Regina’s room. Not even bothering to knock, I burst through the door and scan the place. She springs up from the bed, the book in her hands clattering to the floor. “Jesus, Indie. Are you okay?”
“Where’s your tracker?”
“Wha—”
“Gina,please.” My eyes radiate the scream my throat’s trying to fight. To not ask questions, to not have me delay this any further.
I need to get to my mom.
Reading it immediately, she drops to the floor, dragging open the drawer from her desk and tipping it out, various items colliding with the floor.
