I sink onto my bed. I don’t like how this is going. My control is slipping from my fingers.

“I’m broke again. My wife is divorcing me, and any money I have is for lawyers. You’ve really fucked me here, Thea.”

My heart beats loudly in my ears; my name feels gross in his deep voice, but I still find the will to say, “You fucked yourself, Andrew. I hope you rot in prison.”

“Funny you say that. My investigators found out about you before I was arrested, and we found something pretty interesting about your past. Apparently, you piss off a lot of people.”

My breathing stops. All the shadows in my room look suspicious, threatening. I don’t feel safe here, I don’t feel in control.

“I don’t know what you were thinking or what the plan was by posting your phone number,” he continues, “but the area code gives your location away. If I hadn’t already told Tony where you were, that certainly would’ve given it away. He should be in town by now.”

I jump from my bed to peek through my blinds. My street looks calm, the complete opposite of the turmoil of emotions swirling through my body.

I remember I’m holding the phone in my hand, and even though Andrew isn’t saying anything, I can practically see his vicious smirk through the phone, his gloating righteousness that he’s won. Tony’s coming. He’s here. I’m trying really hard to stay calm. This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? To finish it? Everything in me is so used to running in the opposite direction from Tony. Every time he’s appeared has ended in pain. I force myself to stay calm even though I feel like pulling all my hair out or crying or screaming or closing my eyes and pretending this is all a dream. But none of that will fix this problem. None of that will make this go away. Only I can do that.

“Rot in hell,” I say to Andrew, then hang up and throw my phone on the opposite side of the bed.

Think. I have to think.

Mom is on a flight, so that’s one less person to worry about. I run my hands through my hair and force myself not to rip it out by the roots. I need to figure this out. It’s ending today even if it kills me.

Pouncing on my bed, I scramble back to my phone and call Aiden.

He picks up on the first ring. “Are you okay?”

No. “Yes. It’s on. Where are the twins?” The first part of the plan stays the same. I’m protecting my friends.

He swears. I hear a car door open. “I just pulled them from school. I’m bringing them to Mason’s house now. Brian’s home. We’ll be there right away.”

I force myself to stay calm, to not give away my panic. How far away is Tony?

“Don’t do anything without me, okay?” Aiden demands, and when I don’t answer, he prompts, “Thea?”