Parker
He stares for a beat, breathing hard, chest hitching from nausea, saliva stringing from his mouth as another wave of sick passes him. He retches, convulsing, but nothing comes out.
Looking down at her body, he privately mourns her—his mother, his ally.
Or so he thought. Rage tops all emotion when he thinks of Imogen.
His perfect, patient Imogen. She had been warming up to him, finally seeing him for what he was meant to be.
They’d been on the precipice of something sacred. But his mother ripped it apart.
He can’t let her get away again. He needs to find her, bring her back here. To him.
Then he’ll find Madison and Amelia, ensuring they don’t live to see tomorrow.
If they escape, Parker would rot in a cell, misunderstood and alone, his soul gnawed bare until his heart gave out decades later than he wished. No one would understand that everything he’s done… was love. Pure, real love.
Still gagging, Parker staggers down the hallway, his shoes slick with blood and soup and bile. He pries open the fruit cellar door, hoping to catch Imogen before she finds them. But the cellar is empty.
“Fuck!” he screams, voice bouncing off the walls. The echo makes him feel small, and he hates it. He doubles over, spewing a thin rope of blood onto the tile.
Stumbling upstairs, into the garage, he finds Amelia’s car, where his mother moved it. The sight steadies him. The girls must be on foot. He opens the car door, grabs her phone, and smashes it into the cement floor, black glass shattering beneath his shoe.
When Parker trips into the night air, he pauses, scanning his surroundings, listening for cries, watching for movement.
The Bly house. That’s where they must be. It’s the only place that makes sense. And the only place he can safely check.
Stealthily, he limps up the Bly driveway, each step hurting more than the last as his vision doubles. Halfway up the incline, he sees a quick flash in the doorway.
Imogen’s blond hair swoops inside, closing the door behind her.
A slow smile unfurls across Parker’s face.
She’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.
Waiting for him.