In this chapter, someone gets hit in the face, a question is raised and an answer is revealed. Intrigued? Good. Keep reading. Click here to read the last ten chapters.
So after Mom called Wyatt a couple dozen times and Dad spent a long while pacing back and forth in the living room, Kathy got a text from an unknown number. Sean Lee is driving Wyatt to Connor’s house. 477 Phiona Ln.
She showed it to me, asking if I knew the number. The only phone numbers I had memorized belonged to close family members, myself, and the police. So no, this number didn’t look familiar at all.
Kathy called the number a couple times, and the person would always answer the phone for half a second and turn it off again. Whoever this person was, he didn’t want us to leave a message.
“Do you know anyone who’d know what Wyatt was doing?”
I shrugged. “I guess it would be Sean, but I’m not sure why he’d do it.” Sean was an idiot, and I never much liked him after he asked me in eighth grade, “Wait, are you the good twin or the bad twin?” but Wyatt did like him, for some reason. No motive for Sean to intentionally ruin things. “Sean must’ve told someone what he was doing.”
She asked me who Sean’s friends were.
I didn’t know much about Sean or who he generally talked to, so I just shrugged. Kathy said, “I’m going over there.”
“Why? He’s safer over there than he is here,” I said. “And who’s Connor?”
“He never said. Probably one of the kids who kidnapped you. Wyatt was pissed off at them when I left.”
As far as I could see, Wyatt had no real reason to be mad at anyone. He’d gotten his brother back in one piece and outsmarted those kids easily. I doubt he cared about my physical well-being, and he came out of the situation looking like more of a badass than he already thought he was. I said as much to Kathy, who then reluctantly filled me in on all the events I missed.
“Wait, Wyatt broke the chair, and the glass table?”
“He smashed the chair against the wall a couple times, and threw it at the table for some reason. I’ve never seen him so upset.”
It was tough to imagine Wyatt causing pain to inanimate objects. That was usually my thing. I actually felt bad; I caused this mess, in a way, and he lost the business he’d been building for his entire high school career. And to think I was hoping this would happen to him just a few hours earlier.
“I want to go with you,” I said, but Kathy wasn’t going to have any of that.
“You have a splinted shin and a billion other minor injuries. What use can you be?”
“I know what Sean looks like,” I said. “I could point him out for you, along with any of Wyatt’s friends.”
She considered this, and shrugged. “I won’t be able to convince Mom to let you leave the house.”
So we snuck out. It wasn’t easy, what with me in crutches and all, but Dad had resorted to sitting on the couch in the living room and Mom was busy calling that detective Roy Thompson to be concerned with our whereabouts.
“Wait, we’re helping him out, right?”
“No,” said Kathy, as she drove out of the neighborhood. “We’re driving him back home the moment we find him.”
“Why? He’s getting payback. Those people don’t deserve to just walk away with all the money and not deal with any consequences. You made the same point yourself.”
“That was before he was suspected of selling drugs and his parents found out he was suspended. What if he screws up and they overpower him? They were willing to drive a van into a school area to kidnap a student, they won’t have any limits when dealing with Wyatt.”
But she clearly didn’t think that would happen. Wyatt had the extremely muscular Sean with him, along with his annoying ability to lie his way out of anything.
“In that case, you should’ve told Mom,” I said, after a period of silence. “Or called the cops. If Mom realized you knew where Wyatt was this whole time—”
“I don’t care about Mom,” she cut me off. “I’d just prefer if Wyatt wasn’t found dead in a ditch somewhere.”
After fifteen minutes or so, Mom called and I answered Kathy’s phone for her. “We’re going out to celebrate my well-being,” was my excuse. “Plus, the doctor said I needed food to help with the blood loss, or something.” Because I wasn’t my brother, she didn’t buy this for a second, and spent a while yelling at us until Kathy decided to simply hang up the phone. Besides, we had just reached the house at this point. The time was 2:30, and a car was in the driveway.
She was about to text Wyatt: I’m outside Connor’s, but hesitated right before sending it. “What if that scares him away or something?”
“He doesn’t know you want to stop him,” I said, and so she sent it. Honestly, I hoped it would scare him away.
As she got to the door, it swung open, and Wyatt and Sean burst out, Wyatt carrying what appeared to be a gun with a water bottle attached to it. Kathy called after him, but all he said back was “I’ll explain things later!”
Kathy started chasing after them, and a forty-something year old woman approached the doorway, watching them with a phone in her hands, probably dialing 911.
A kid with a dopey red hat started arguing with her, and I opened up the window. Neither of them noticed.
I recognized the voice.
So that was Connor, known to me as ‘C.’ I listened to him talk as he convinced his mom that it was just a joke, that it probably wasn’t a real gun and besides you don’t know him anyway so it’ll be impossible to find him. They continued the conversation inside, as I got out of the car and started walking down the sidewalk towards his house. It was a long walk, and my armpits were already starting to blister from the stupid crutches. I stopped to rest, as Connor walked out, talking to someone on the phone. Putting my hood up to cover my face, I made my way towards him. He was too concerned with the phone call that he didn’t pay me any mind.
“He asked me a bunch of questions, but my parents came home and found him… Yeah, he fled the house… No, he doesn’t know…”
So this was C., the kid who talked in a friendly manner towards James, assisted in my kidnapping, and stood watch while I was beaten up blindfolded. He was the one third responsible for the physical state I was in.
He looked up towards me, just as I swung one of the crutches at his face.
I hit him much harder than I meant to, and he fell to the ground clutching his head and groaning. I was pretty sure I hit him in the jaw, so he shouldn’t be seriously injured or anything. His phone fell out of his hands. I lost my balance, and made it a point to fall on my healthy leg, landing on top of him. He shoved me off him, and I rolled over his phone. I grabbed it and looked at the name of who he was calling.
It read Fiona W.