I hope you make it back in time.
I’d like to see all three of us alive together.
The air leaves my lungs in a sharp gasp.What the hell does that mean?And then it hits me—like ice plunging into my chest. He’s not just raging.He’s threatening to kill me. To kill Sabre.
I clutch my stomach as nausea twists through me. I try to retch, but nothing comes out, just dry heaving sobs. My poor Sabre. Alone, defenseless, with a man whose mind is unraveling.
The next texts arrive, relentless.
Timmy:
I’m the one just trying to ask people for help with gas money to get home... like I’m not going to make it there, but I really hope... I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.
Still, you’re such a fucking cunt. Like, why the fuck am I even talking to you?
I’m going to get your truck and drive it up your ass at some point, you fucking piece of shit.
I slap a hand over my mouth, stifling a cry.He’s threatening to drive the truck into me.The very thought of it—a steel frame and screeching tires, aimed at me in rage—makes me shiver uncontrollably. My hands ache from gripping the phone too hard, but I can’t loosen my grip. I have to keep reading.
Timmy:
Fuck yourself.
Hanging on some kid, walking off hanging out with some child.
You’re a fucking dumb cunt.
You’re the dumbest fuck. Most apologetic. Fucking opposite cunt I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.
Go fuck yourself and I hope your cat fucking dies.
I gasp aloud, the words slamming into me with the force of a punch.Sabre.
Timmy:
I meant you, sorry.
Another gasp. My heart falters for a beat—relief mixed with horror. At least for now, Sabre’s not his target. But what happens when his rage shifts again?
Timmy:
I watch you and your stupid choice.
When someone doesn’t have a single second to talk to someone, it’s because...
You’re a fucking cheater and I fucking hate you.
And you’re also very fucking gross.
So fucking gross.
I burst into tears, the dam inside me finally giving way. I can’t stop the sobs from wracking my body.None of this is true.It’s all lies—hateful, hurtful lies. The accusation is literally insane. But the venom in his words makes it feel real, even though I know it’s not.
The only person I want is him. And yet, here I am—being accused of the most disgusting, repugnant things. I can’t even wrap my mind around the fact that he thinks I’d be interested in a child. How could he say that? How could he eventhinkthat?
But then there’s the other layer—the more immediate fear clawing at the back of my mind.The death threats. He said he hopes we don’t all make it.
That thought alone makes my blood run cold. If I don’t get back soon—if I don’t intervene—what will happen to Sabre?