Jude shakes his head. He’s taken a couple of his stones out of his pocket and is rolling them between his fingers. “He wasn’tmaking sense. The gas station attendant had to take the phone back off him. He said he looks like he’s been attacked.”
“But he’s alive,” I say. “He’s alive and he’s safe.” It’s a reminder for myself as much as them.
Jude echoes my words back to me and eventually the stones return to his pocket.
Eli clears his throat. I look at him in the rear-view mirror. “Was there –” he swallows and tries again. “Was there any sign of Freya?” His hand grips his seatbelt, like he’s using it to hold himself together.
“Oz kept saying she was there, that she’d been with him but...”
“He doesn’t know she has a twin. He might have thought –” I cut myself off because Jude doesn’t need to hear that right now.
“No.” He hits the door with the side of his fist. “He would have known. He wouldn’t believe she’d do that.”
I don’t say anything. For Oz’s sake I hope Jude’s right, but if he is, that means Oz really did see Freya. Only, now, she’s no longer with him.
The second I pull up to the gas station I realize it’s so much worse than Jude said. Oz is inside, hammering at the doors, a gun clenched in his hand.
I yank on the hand brake and get out of the car. As I get closer, I see the owner through the window and curse.
He’s standing a few feet away, aiming a shotgun at Oz’s head.
I draw my own weapon but keep it down at my side and signal for Jude and Eli to do the same.
I catch eyes with the shopkeeper and hold up my badge.
He nods and reaches behind the counter. The doors open and Oz stumbles out. His hair is matted with dried blood and his chest is crimson red.
I holster my gun and grab hold of him to keep him steady.
He’s hugging his torso with one arm and his pupils are blown. “Freya. Freya.” He sways in my hold.
I reach for the gun he’s holding. “Let go, Oz. Give me the gun.”
“I’ve got to go back,” he says but his words are slurred.
“I know, I know. We’ll get her Oz, but you’ve got to give me the gun.” I let out a breath when his grip loosens, and I can ease the gun from his grasp. I pass it off to Jude.
Eli glowers at the shop owner and I look over to see he’s joined us outside and is back to pointing his bloody shotgun at Oz.
“I don’t know what he’s on,” the old man rumbles, “but he bulldozed into my store and asked to use the phone. When I wouldn’t give him a gun, he launched himself over the counter and took one for himself.”
“Lower your weapon,” I order.
His eyes flick over to me.
“Now.”
The owner grits his teeth but lets the shotgun fall to his side. I know I’m being harsh, this man did us a favor keeping Oz inside the store, but I have no patience for anyone threatening my family.
“He’s not high,” Eli adds, apparently just as annoyed as I am. “Can’t you see he’s got a head wound?”
Oz tries to lunge away from me, muttering under his breath.
I pull him back. “Oz, look at me. Look at me!”
He’s all over the place but eventually he gives me his eyes. They’re blinking rapidly. “She has Freya. Angelica has Freya. I need to go back.”
Jude stands at my shoulder. “AngelicaisFreya, Oz.”
