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“We have him.”
My father... They’ve got him. I’m not sure if I want to jump for joy or fall to my knees. The news is as equally horrible as it is good.
“They have my father?” I ask, lowering the gun to my side as Dimitri slides his back into its holster.
He turns toward me. “It sounds like it.”
“Where? Where are they?”
“I have no idea. The barn maybe. I couldn’t really make out what he was saying but I heard the word barn.”
The barn. Yes, I heard him say that as well.
“So does that mean it’s over?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, clearly just as clueless as to what’s going on as the rest of us.
“I have to go up there.”
Dimitri shakes his head, stepping in front of me when I move toward the door.
“You know I can’t let you do that. We can’t leave until Mateo gives us the all clear.”
“Fuck Mateo’s all clear. If they have my father, I need to go.”
I make another attempt to step around Dimitri but again he cuts me off.
Without really thinking it all the way through, I lift my gun, pointing it directly at Dimitri’s chest. His eyes go wide and he stumbles backward a few steps.
“What the fuck, Mila!”
“I’m sorry, but I’m going up there. If you try to stop me, I will shoot you.” Keeping my gun aimed at his upper torso, I walk backward toward the door, throwing it open the moment I reach it.
“Mila, please. You don’t understand what you’re doing,” he pleads.
“I understand exactly what I’m doing. He’s my father, Dimitri. The only parent I have left. I have to see him at least once. I have to.”
Something I said must register with him, because after a long moment he reaches forward and closes the door between us as if to say,go.
I spin around and take off up the stairs, throwing the board to the side before yanking the door open. I have no plan. No real clue what I’m doing. I’m acting on pure instinct and adrenaline.
The house is empty as I run through it, stepping over two dead bodies before making my way outside.
I don’t even take a second to look around at the chaos that surrounds me. Burning cars, debris, dead bodies all litter the ground. If I look, if I let myself really process the scene, I’m afraid I might not have the courage to do what I know I have to.
I jog across the dark grounds, my bare feet sinking into the mud left behind by the rain. I slip a couple of times but thankfully am able to keep my footing.
I’m surprised to find the area around the barn vacant, but I can hear voices inside. I can hearhisvoice. Mateo.
I step to the side of the doorway, sliding the gun into the back of my pants before pressing my side against the weathered wood as I strain to hear what’s going on.
And that’s when I feel it, the cool metal of a gun pressing against the back of my head.
“And just where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
I recognize the voice instantly.
“Ox, it’s me,” I push past the knot that has found its way to the center of my throat.
