CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jacob
My heart races with fear and dread as I frantically try to reach Anya. Why isn't she answering? What if something terrible has happened to her? I have to find out, I have to see for myself. My hands shake as I rent a car and speed towards my home, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Just try not to get a speeding ticket Jacob, I remind myself.
As I arrive at the farm, my panic only increases upon seeing hay bales strewn about and bullet holes in the barn. Police tape surrounds the area, and the sounds of animals in distress fill the air. I rush into the house, narrowly avoiding a cast iron pan thrown at me by Marissa in a moment of panic.
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I thought they came back!" she cries out, clinging to me and sobbing uncontrollably. Despite being my older sister, I still tower over her. As I guide her to the living room, Tom brings her a cup of hot tea before embracing me in a tight hug.
"What happened?" I demand once Marissa has calmed down enough to speak. Between sobs, she explains the terrifying events of the past few days.
A change in me happens and anger boils within me at the thought of someone hurting Anya. Worse, they murdered my Mom just to get to her. "Who are these motherfuckers?" I seethe.
"We don't know," Marissa cries, "All we know is that they were here for Anya! Which is insane because she had just arrived that morning!"
I pace back and forth in the living room, trying to process everything. Fear and rage consume me, but I force myself to sit down. "So where is Anya now?" I ask through clenched teeth.
Marissa breaks down again, "I...I don't know Jacob. When we came back from the hospital, she was gone and her car was missing! I'm sorry we couldn't protect her...I couldn't even protect Mom!" Her sobs intensify as Tom holds her tightly.
"There was nothing you could have done," I say, my mind racing with possibilities. "But how did these guys even get onto the farm in the first place?"
"They cut the security lines," Tom interjects solemnly.
"Okay, but wouldn't that have set off an alarm?" I question.
"It did," Marissa confirms, wiping away her tears. "That's when Mom grabbed the shotgun and Anya's grandmother saw someone running outside your window. She went after them, and then Mom followed."
"I wanted to go too, but Tom held me back and made me hide," Marissa adds, looking at him with a mix of gratitude and frustration.
Tom meets my eye with a heavy expression. "Marissa is pregnant. I had to protect her and the baby." Guilt hangs heavily on his face as he admits this, and I can only imagine the weight of their fears for both Anya and their unborn child.
I inhale deeply and meet the gazes of Tom and Marissa. "I understand, but I still wish I could have been here," I say, feeling guilty for not being there when our mother needed us most.
Marissa places her hand on mine and reassures me, "You were where you needed to be. Mom would have said the same."
Although I know she's right, it doesn't make the guilt any less painful.
"Why did she come back here?" Tom's frustration is evident in his tone. Both Marissa and I look at him in confusion. He sighs and clarifies, "Anya, why did she have to-"
"Because she needed us!" Marissa interrupts before I can respond.
I start to approach Tom, but Marissa stops me. "God, Tom! What kind of question is that?!" She continues with anger in her eyes. "You think we should have abandoned her when she needed us most?!"
Tom stands up and walks toward Marissa, but she backs away. He sighs and turns to me, saying, "All I'm saying is that ever since Anya came here, all this trouble started –“
Before he can finish his sentence, I rush forward and slam him against the wall. "Don’t. You. Dare. Blame. Her. For. This!" I grit through my teeth.
"Jacob! Let him go!" Marissa commands sternly, but I ignore her. "She didn't choose this!" I pin his chest with my arm, holding him against the wall. Marissa pulls me away and urges me to calm down.
"He – "
"GO!" She cuts me off and points towards the kitchen. Angry and frustrated, I storm off but can still hear Marissa yelling at Tom in the living room. Although we rarely raise our voices in this family, tensions are high in this moment.
Tom and Marissa enter the kitchen, but Tom looks down at the ground like a scolded child.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," Tom says sheepishly.
"It's not her fault, Tom. You know that if she had even the slightest thought that you both would be in danger, she wouldn't have come," I say sternly.
Tom nods, and then Marissa tells him to go back home and wait for her. She comes over to me and rubs my arm. "We'll get through this," she reassures me. I nod slowly and grab a beer from the fridge. "What do we do next?" I ask as I take a seat on a nearby stool. Marissa joins me.
"Well, I already scheduled the funeral for tomorrow. After that, I need to figure out what to do with the farm. Then...I don't know," she responds. I nod and take a sip of my beer. "Where do you need me?" I ask.
She smiles at me. "Just be there for the funeral, and then...well, I already know what you want to do," she says, patting my hand. I snort and nod my head; sometimes she knows me better than I know myself.
"For now, I think you should just get some rest. I'll meet you at the funeral home," she says as she takes my empty beer bottle and throws it away. I laugh, causing her to furrow her brow. "Acting like a mom already," I joke. She smiles again and leaves.
I head to my room, feeling incredibly alone in this quiet house. I lie in bed, trying to sleep, but it's no use. My mind keeps going back to Anya - where could she be? Why isn't she answering her phone?
Finally, unable to relax, I sit up and start texting Connor. I haven't talked to him since before I left for basic training, which isn't unusual considering the limited communication we had with our families. We need to come up with a plan - not just to find Anya, but also to figure out who is following her. And once we confront the people who killed my mom, they'll wish they were never born!