Dawson steps aside, and I rush through to find my mom laid out on the sofa, hands bound as someone tries to cut them free.
I pause, my throat tight as I stare at her bruised face, blood trickling down her busted lip.
I collapse to my knees when I reach her, my fingers instantly going to her pulse. It’s there, but it’s weak.
Before I can ask to take her to a hospital, Kyle—Ultio’s medic—drops beside me with a rucksack, pulling out medical equipment as he looks her over.
He glances at me, a weak smile on his lips. “She’s just knocked out, possibly forced to take something and make her drowsy. I’llcheck over her and arrange for her to stay somewhere out of state if you don’t want her at the Pit.”
A tear slips down my cheek as I nod. A broken, “Thank you,” leaves my lips in a vulnerable whisper.
“No sign of Barry,” Dawson calls, walking in behind me.
I find that unsettling. Did he get spooked, knowing I would likely turn up here with Ultio? Or are we still playing a game no one knows the fucking rules to?
A shiver runs across my skin; something doesn’t feel right. And I said before I’d never doubt my instincts again.
Rising, I turn to face Dawson. “This could still be a trap. We need to get my mom out of here. Right now.”
He runs a hand across his jaw. “It was either going to be that, or a threat. The place is clear. I’m leaning towards the latter. That doesn’t mean someone won’t be watching. We might get company on the way back, so be prepared.”
Just as Kyle goes to lift my mom, voices crackle through Dawson’s radio. “We’ve got someone on the roof outside the bedroom.”
Dawson moves like lightning, closing off the doors and shutting the curtains, turning to look at me as he heads to the door, gun raised. “Stay in here, stay low, and do not leave unless I tell you.”
Before I can object, the door clicks shut, leaving me inside with Kyle and Mom. My hand reaches for my gun on the floor, and then I hesitate. “Is she at risk of waking up?”
He shakes his head, laying Mom back on the sofa, thumb tugging above her eye to reveal dark, unfocused eyes. “The sedative they’ve given her is pretty heavy. Her breathing and blood pressure are fine for now, but we need to get her on oxygen as soon as possible. A head injury like that and sedatives could mask other symptoms.”
My jaw flexes, as if Barry knocking her around like this wasn’t enough. Now, I’m stuck with the decision of taking her back to the Pit to keep her safe or getting her checked out from an out-of-state hospital, and getting her staying there.
The latter leaves her wide open for more harm; they’d find her. I need to potentially reveal a gut-wrenching truth, or else I’ll truly need to lie to her.
Fuck, this is becoming a bigger shit show than I planned.
The door bursts open, and Kyle and I point our weapons towards the door simultaneously, then lower as Dawson and Holly have a beaten and bruised Morgan slung over their shoulders.
“What the hell?” I murmur, walking towards them as they lower him into an armchair.
Morgan groans as he’s lowered, and Dawson takes his wrists to cut him free, followed by the ties around his ankles. “Holly spotted him on the roof outside your room. Gagged.”
What the hell is fucking happening here?
I watch as he stretches his trembling limbs out from the restraints, cracking his neck as I spot dried blood coating the side of his head, a nasty bruise above his eye. His face is reddened from being out in the cold so long.
“Morgan, it’s Indie. Are you okay?” I ask, kneeling down before him as he rubs the raw marks across his flesh.
His bloodshot eyes focus on me. He doesn’t look to have been drugged like Mom was, and I wonder if they’d tried to take care of him before getting her.
My voice is still gentle, despite the anger burning beneath my fibres. He’s taken a blow to the head. Hopefully seeing all these armed people, he might think he’s hallucinating.
He reaches his hand out, and I take it, his ice skin melting against the wrath beneath mine. “Indie. God I’m so sorry, I triedto help, tried to get your mom.” His voice breaks, shaking his head as he squeezes his eyes closed.
“I know you would have, and she’s okay.” I tilt my head over my shoulder, his gaze following it. “We’re going to get you two somewhere safe, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”
His glassy eyes drop to the ground as he leans forward on his knees, speaking with his head dipped. “A group of men broke into the house. I was upstairs in the bathroom when I heard the commotion. Ran down the stairs as soon as I heard your mom screaming for help.” He clenches his fists, and my body goes entirely still when I read his face. “They beat her up, tied her up in the kitchen while taking photos. When they noticed me, they dragged me up the stairs and did the exact same thing. Next thing I knew, I woke up on the roof outside your window and couldn’t shout for help. Thought I was gonna freeze to death.”
“Did you recognise any of them?” Dawson asks, standing over us with his arms folded across his chest with his gun on display.
