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I hear Dad’s smile. “That’s my boy.”
“Gotta go.” I’m already walking to the door.
“Send me the location, Cash. You take backup.”
I do as he asks but say as my eyes find my three brothers at the ready, “I’ve got backup.”
In the parking garage, we move quickly to my SUV. Rage explodes inside me as I rip the note from my wiper to read in scrawled print:
Tit for tat, Sinner.
You take from me; I take from you.
XOXO.
I crumple the paper into my fist. “Psycho bitch.”
thirty-five
Wrenlee
I don’t feel well at all. But I’m having such a hard time moving my body, I’m afraid if I let myself vomit, I’d choke to death on it. Whatever she gave me has turned my body into a deadweight, my limbs as useless as wet noodles. Sweat prickles like needles over my skin, but I feel cold. My body doesn’t know which way is up or down, but as we drive into the dirt road of an abandoned factory, visions of horror movies and true crime documentaries bombard my mind.
The level of queasiness rises about ten notches, until I’m forcing myself to swallow bile.
“Wh-y are we—h-here?” It’s so hard to force my tongue to move.
“Payment,” she says simply. “He took everything from my sister, and so I’m taking everything from him. Tit for tat, sweetie, it’s only fair.”
“Sis-ter?”
She slams on the breaks hard, skidding on gravel, and my body pitches forward. The side of my head connects with the dash even though I’ve tried to lock my body into the seat. My body isn’t working. It’s numb. Immoveable. Uncontrollable.
Pain explodes inside my head and bright lights burst inside my eyes. For a moment, they remind me of the starburst auras I get before one of my rare migraines. Or the after-glitch in vision after looking too long at something too bright.
She huffs dramatically, her hand moving into my hair at the back of my head as she yanks, pulling me back into place.
In my mind, I cry out. In reality, nothing sounds in the space between us but Alice’s bitter, “My sister! The girlfriend he had before he hadyou. Alyssa.”
Why does that name sound familiar?Who names one daughter Alice and the other Alyssa?
Alice keeps talking. “She was going to have his baby, you know? Then he saw you and everything fell apart. He kicked her to the curb just like that.” She snaps her fingers. “She begged him. Pleaded. He wouldn’t listen.”
Inside my chest, my heart is rioting. I whisper, “Sh-ewas—pre-g-nant?”
“Not yet.” Alice rolls her eyes to the ceiling of the car. “But she wastrying. We were going to finally have a family. We were going to be happy.”
She’s crazy. This woman is truly crazy. Certifiable.
Loony-freaking-toons.
I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone clinically insane in my life. I don’t know what to do, but as the realization that I might not be able to communicate effectively or even emotionally with her settles, so does the suffocating fear.
My lips part on a gasp for breath my lungs can’t pull in fast enough. I’m on the edge of panic.
Even if she would listen to me, I’m not sure that I could physically speak enough to get through to her.
“Whayoooug’do-w-me?” The words don’t come as I’d like, and neither do the tears. I’d prefer the tears struggle to flow as much as the words, but luck just isn’t on my side today. They leak from my eyes, my panic and fear boldly on display.
