Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
GIA
Misty was fine when I checked on her this morning, which seemed a lifetime ago. I slogged through appointments all day, which at least kept me indoors. Safe. By the time I finally dragged myself home, exhaustion sat so heavy in my bones I could barely think past the promise of sleep.
When I stepped inside, voices drifted from the living room. I slowed. That wasn’t right.
Misty had barely been getting out of bed lately.
Most days she slept until noon, curled beneath blankets while the treatments hollowed her out piece by piece.
Her latest labs were worse. The MRI showed no improvement.
Her doctor had mentioned an experimental treatment in the careful tone people used when they’d already given up.
A low laugh carried down the hallway. Male. My pulse stumbled.
I eased my phone from my pocket and hit Timothy’s name before I rounded the corner. The call started ringing. I slid the phone back into my scrub top pocket without looking at the screen.
“Look who finally decided to join the family meeting.” My father’s voice hit me first, mean and mocking.
Then I saw the shotgun.
He sat on the sofa beside Misty, the barrel resting across his thigh while his hand stroked it absently, almost lovingly. The sight stopped me cold.
Something was wrong with his face. He wasn’t angry or drunk. He was smiling, but it wasn’t normal. It was something wide and twitching, like he was struggling to hold himself together.
Misty looked at me with swollen red eyes. Her hands were duct taped together.
“What’s the crisis?” I asked, forcing the words out flat and calm. I used the same detached tone I reserved for panicked clients.
His grin widened. “Well…” He leaned back against the couch cushions. “We’re taking a little field trip.”
Cold crept up my spine. I took one careful step farther into the room, forcing myself not to look at the front door. I had no chance of reaching it before he lifted the rifle.
“Misty?” I asked softly.
She gave the tiniest shake of her head. Fear poured off her so hard it thickened the air.
“Hold out your hands, Regina.”
“No.”
The crack of the slap exploded through the room. Misty flew sideways against the arm of the sofa with a choked cry. My heart lurched into my throat.
Blood welled instantly from the split in her lip.
My father calmly looked back at me like he hadn’t just hit a dying woman hard enough to throw her across the couch.
“Hold out your hands,” he repeated. “Or I’ll kill her right here.”
The rifle never moved from his lap.
I stared at Misty trying to push herself upright with taped wrists, breathing too fast, blood running down her chin.
If I let him tie me up, we were dead. If I refused, he’d start hurting her again. He seemed unstable enough now that I believed he would do something terrible.
Slowly, I held out my hands.
The duct tape hissed loudly in the silent room as he tore off a strip.
I needed him talking. Needed Timothy to hear this, whether the call had gone to voicemail or he had answered.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
My father stepped closer, the sharp chemical smell of gun oil and sweat rolling off him.
“We’re going to your boyfriend’s house.”
“Why?” I didn’t bother denying I was with Timothy. There was no point.
He grabbed my wrists hard and started wrapping the tape tight.
“Because,” he said softly, almost cheerfully, “it’s time somebody paid me back.”
* * *
TIMOTHY
I answered Gia’s call immediately, but all I got was silence.
Then her father’s voice came through the speaker.
Every hair on my body stood up. I heard the threat. Heard Misty crying. Heard him say they were going to the farm.
For one frozen second, I couldn’t breathe. I kept the call connected and grabbed my second phone, the one I used for work, off the console. My hands were already shaking as I searched for Jackson’s number, but my regular phone lit up first.
Jackson calling.
I put Gia’s call on mute and answered Jackson so fast I nearly dropped it. “He’s got her,” I said the instant the line connected. My voice sounded rough. “Gia. He’s got Gia.”
“Where’s he taking her?” Jackson seemed too calm. That scared me more.
“The farm. My house.” I blew through a stop sign, tires squealing as I fishtailed onto the highway. “Jackson, what the hell happened? Did you and Mark do something besides involve the DEA? Why didn’t Mark let me know he left?”
Jackson was silent a beat too long. “I found out Jimmy McClary had another family.”
“What?”
“He’s a bigamist. Had a second wife living thirty minutes away. Been playing at being some kid’s stepfather for over a year.” His voice stayed terrifyingly even. “I turned everything over to the police this morning.”
The engine roared as I shoved the truck faster.
“I think his second wife took the news badly.” Jackson paused. “Really badly.” Something in his tone made my stomach tighten.
“We’ve got to get to the farm,” I said. “Can you make it there before him?”
“I’m already driving.”
“What about Mark? Where the hell is he?”
Another silence. Longer this time. The kind that tells you something awful before the words came.
“Mark’s out at the McClary place with the sheriff,” Jackson said quietly. “It’s bad there.”
My grip tightened painfully on the steering wheel. “How bad?”
“Jimmy shot Valerie. Then he tried to run Mark over with the truck. Mark’s a little battered up, but he’ll live. Jimmy shot the other three farm hands.”
The world narrowed. My foot slammed harder on the gas. “What?”
I nearly missed the curve in the road.
“Everyone but Mark is dead at the McClary place.” The words hit like a punch to the chest. “Gia’s mother is gone.”
Dead.
The truck swerved over the centerline before I jerked it back. “Do you think he’ll kill Gia and Misty before they get to the farm?” I didn’t recognize my own voice anymore
Jackson answered immediately. “No.”
That should’ve made me feel better. It didn’t.
“He wants you to watch. He wants to take away what you value most just like you took everything from him.”
Cold terror ripped straight through me. “Jackson—”
“Listen to me.” His voice sharpened hard enough to cut through the panic spiraling in my head. “You call your mother right now. Tell her to get herself and Sofia into the safe room. You tell your dad to arm himself and stay inside the big house until I get there.”
Cars blurred past me in streaks of light. My speedometer climbed higher. I could barely hear anything over the blood pounding in my ears.
“I’m coming in from the north quadrant,” Jackson continued. “Do not go charging into anything alone.”
I said nothing. Because we both knew I was going to anyway.
“Timothy.” Jackson’s voice dropped lower. Deadlier. “I promise you. We’re getting her out.” The call ended.
I immediately dialed my mother while trying to keep Gia’s open line pressed to my ear. Nothing from Gia’s end. No voices. No movement. Only dead silence humming through the speaker.
My stomach twisted violently. Had he found the phone? Had he made her leave it behind? Or—
No. Jackson said he wanted a show.
I shoved the thought away and drove faster. The farm sat fifteen minutes ahead of me on the long highway.
When mom answered I rushed, “Jimmy…he killed Valerie. Tried to kill Mark, but Mark’s going to live.
Jimmy is on his way to our place with Misty and Gia as hostages.
He wants to kill them in front of us. I need you to get Sofia and take her to the safe room.
Stay there. Please, I need you two safe.
Tell Dad to arm himself and stay inside the big house.
Jackson’s on the way.” I hung up before she could say anything.
My phone rang. Jimmy. I answered briskly, “What?”
“I got what you value most. Be at your house in ten minutes or I’ll start blowing parts off of her with my shotgun.”