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I turn with wide eyes, finding Zade tucking away his weapon.

“Sorry, baby. He touched your ass, therefore, I needed to kill him.”

A piercing scream distracts me, drawing my eyes to Sibby happily stabbing away at the man beneath her, while my dad squirms like a worm on a hook. His stare pinballs back and forth from the psychotic girl at his feet to his wife.

My eyes widen when I get a good look at my mother. Her head is drooping, chin tucked into her chest and blood soaking through her shirt.

“Oh my God,” I cry, rushing over to her. Zade reaches her first, pressing his fingers against her throat to feel for a pulse.

“She’s alive,” he breathes. “But her pulse is faint. She needs a doctor now.”

Tears immediately well in my eyes, and panic turns my brain to mush. I open my mouth, limbs frozen, and wide eyes locked onto my dying mother.

“Adeline,” Zade barks, and my eyes snap to him. “Focus, baby. I need you to come here and put pressure on the wound.”

Finally unlocking my muscles, I do as he says and press both hands against her chest. Crimson bubbles through my fingers, coating my skin within seconds.

Distinctly, I see Zade untying her bonds and then my dad’s. There’s a sharp command telling Sibby to stop grinding on the dead man beneath her, then Zade talking to Jay through his earpiece, but everything is drowned out after that.

There’s too much blood rushing in my ears. Too much anxiety eating me alive from the inside out.

“Mom,” I say shakily. Dad’s arms come around her, gently lifting her head and calling out her name. Tears are streaming down his ruddy cheeks, and it’s then I realize my own face is wet.

“Serena, hey honey, look at me,” Dad coaxes, but her eyes stay firmly closed.

“I need to lift her,” Zade says.

“Don’t you touch her!” Dad shouts, going to slap Zade’s arms away. “We need to call an ambulance.”

“Dad!” I exclaim, pulling a hand away to stop him. “Stop, he’s trying to help.”

“I will be faster than an ambulance, I promise you,” Zade assures, staring firmly in my father’s eyes. Dad is a rule follower. He goes by the book. And even in his mania, he understands that Zade isn’t taking her to the hospital only because he’s faster, but because we’ve all committed a crime, and he doesn’t want them to know.

Which means we’re not going to a real hospital, either.

Gritting his teeth, Dad releases Zade and lets him pick up my mom, her head flopping onto his chest as he stands.

“Everyone get in the car. Let’s go, now, Sibby.”

We climb the basement steps, tear through the house, and pile into Zade’s car—all of it a blur. I let Dad sit in the passenger seat while my mom is draped across mine and Sibby’s lap. I continue to put pressure on her chest, whispering to her softly to stay alive.

Zade must still have Jay on the line because he says, “Call Teddy and let him know we’re on our way. Gunshot wound to the chest.”

“Let me guess, there’s some made-up story you have, huh?” Dad snaps from the front seat while Zade tears out of the driveway and onto the road. He handles the car with ease, despite the unnerving speed we’re traveling.

“Well, no, not really,” Zade answers, not the least bit perturbed by my dad’s anger. “We’re not going to the police. And we’re going to a surgeon, with real experience—”

“We’re not going to the hospital?!” my father booms, his voice deafening. I flinch, heart pounding. I’ve told Zade before that my dad wasn’t an integral part of my life. He always lingered in the background, there but not really—kind of like Gigi’s ghost in Parsons Manor.

But there were a few times in my childhood where he raised his voice, and each time, it sent birds scattering off their branches and my back hunching in attempt to make myself smaller.

He’s a simple man, but he can also be scary.

“No, sir,” Zade responds casually. Nothing intimidates him, and if I haven’t had a close look, I’d think he has balls of fucking steel hanging between his legs.

“I don’t care who the fuck you are, you better turn this car around and take us to the GODDAMN HOSPITAL!” he yells, his face growing increasingly red, even in the dark of the car.

“Raise your voice to me one more fucking time,” Zade threatens, his voice deepening. “I guarantee you that I can knock your ass out without even swerving this car.” My dad rears back, eyes bugging with shock


Tags: H.D. Carlton Dark