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I don’t think I answered him. My focus was too intense as I skipped the stairs and jumped, landing firmly on my cowgirl boots that never failed me when I needed to run.
Racing across the field, to where my senses told me the darkness was, it was surreal. I felt an overpowering sensation to learn about my calling. Yes. The draw. The pull to find Thunder was beyond the love I had for him. It was as if his existence was vital for many souls. And his existence has always depended … on me.
Once I reached, a certain spot, sensing Thunder below me, I dropped to my jeaned knees and rifled through the grass. I don’t know what exactly I was searching for, so relief flooded my veins when I discovered a doorknob on what appeared to be a flat door. My momentary sense of relief evaporated at realizing that it was locked. “I need in,” I groaned, feeling as though a crucial space in time was closing in on me—on Thunder. “No!” I got up, prepared to fight the whole world if that’s what it took to get to his side.
On the door, I slammed my boot down, over and over. “Let me in! Let me in!”
Redemption Ryders were running across the field toward me, guns in their hands, anxious eyes scanning as if trying to understand what was going on.
I pointed down and screamed, “Get me in there!”
In slow motion, my sight locked onto a man with his hair shaved on the sides like Dio. But this man’s hair wasn’t as long; it was a short mohawk. His green eyes were so sharp, I felt their intensity as they read me, believed me. Chains tattooed on each side of his head moved as he bellowed something into his phone.
I don’t know what he was ordering, but I knew the right person was helping me.
I stepped back and off the door.
It lifted.
Adrenaline feeding me, I pushed past Roamer and took each step with such speed, it took Chubs, waiting at the bottom, to help stop my descent. He yelled, “Rya! Something is wrong with him!” Then led me past walls with fully-stocked shelves to a wall with hidden hinges. Rushing into the prison room, I skidded to a stop.
My Thunder was on the floor, on his back, as Diesel tried to resuscitate him.
At that very second, something inside shifted.
Deafened by a mystical silence, my sight intensified and became my dominant sense. I couldn’t hear Diesel screaming for Thunder. I couldn’t hear Artist on his phone, demanding an ambulance. I could only … see.
Onus, the man who was as cruel as my father, was on the floor in a cell. There was blood on his face, and his eyes were closed. According to my new sight, no energy radiating from his body told me he was … dead.
As if my mind was slipping away like Thunder’s life, the slow-motion trance continued, the raindrops—that no one else could see, based on their lack of reaction—started to fall … upward.
Upward…? It seemed my perception was all wrong. Or making itself right.
Omen-like, the raindrops rising in the air, moved toward the mohawked man who had helped me get inside. By his intensity, it seemed he was barking orders I still couldn’t hear, his jaw movement making the chains move again. This time, with me so much closer to him, I could see images of razor blades tangled—no, connected—to the tattooed metal. Tattoos have meanings. Drops of blood had meaning for him, and now for me.
As though my head was moving through quicksand, I looked back to Thunder, where everyone was currently focused, then to Onus, where no one was even looking.
When the flower from behind my ear slowly floated down, I raised my palm to catch it. As soon as it landed, I heard the woman’s voice from my omen dreams. “Palm. Blood.”
I had never told Thunder of this particular voice because that’s what she told me to do.
Thunder’s words—My little goddess, you do whatever the fuck you want, anytime, anywhere—him telling me something to help me heal, now meant everything to me.
I raised a finger and pointed to Onus. “Save him.”
Onus was connected … to Thunder.
The rising rain stopped. All sounds rushed back into my ears.
More determined, I demanded, “Save him!”
With anguish only a parent can understand, Diesel roared, “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“His little goddess…” the voice confirmed.
“No. Not in the slightest,” I growled at Diesel, then I ran and jumped, clearing their heads that hovered over my Thunder, who I was going to save.
Landing inside Onus’s cell, I quickly maneuvered myself to face the room, then I mimicked what Diesel was doing to his son on the ground in front of him. Onus flat on his back, I pressed and pressed my connected hands onto his chest, but they were so small, I was terrified that I was failing.
