𝐆𝐎-𝐆𝐎 | 𝐬.𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬

𝟎𝟏𝟓. 𝐀 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Chapter 15

A Sisters Intuition

Mitsy could never explain to anyone that something in her mind drew her to Bucks' residence that night. It was a feeling, and a bad one.

She never considered herself to have the best intuition. But she knew if her gut told her anything, she would listen to it without a second thought. And her gut told her that Dallas Winston knew something she didn't about the sudden disappearance of her kid brother.

After getting a distressed Sodapop to tell her of his location she wasted no time rushing out of her home with a snarl on her red lips and gun strapped to her leg, hidden under a long, navy blue trench coat and a stiff black miniskirt.

Her white turtleneck hugged at her neck as she swiftly stalked to the rugged door of Buck Merrill's alcoholic fever dream he calls his house. The lights in the building were a blinding crimson red and the air smelt of cheap liquor.

Her knuckles wrapped against the wooden door loudly, thumping like the beat of a drum. Her hand was reached under her coat for the pistol in the holster attached to her upper thigh.

She glared at the entrance when it was swung open clumsily to reveal the tipsy figure of Buck Merrill, his yellowing or lack of teeth smirking drunkenly at her presence.

"Hey, little missy! Long time no see!" he slurred loudly, excessively drawing out the 'y' in hey as he yelled over the trashy country music that blared behind him.

She sighed, "Where's Dallas Winston?" She questioned, her eyes narrowing down on his lanky frame. Oh how she wished that she had never met this man, but street racing will always give you connections. And unfortunately for her, he was one of them.

"Dally? I don't know, Rhode." He shook his head sloppily, "I can call him, but he ain't gonna come down. No matter how pretty you are." He giggled, pointing at her with his beer bottle loosely in his grasp.

She scowled, a scoff fighting its way up her throat, "Then I'll go up there myself, Merrill." She hissed, pushing past the older man with a heavy shove to the shoulder. The blonde adult only chuckled raspily, "Alrighty, missy. But don't be too loud, I've got guests," He winked, cackling at his own stupid joke and his inability to pronounce her name due to his two missing front teeth.

The teen girl wouldn't be surprised if steam was storming out of her ears and if her face glowed a steaming red. The nerve this cowboy wannabe had.

She snatched the bottle from his pathetic hold and took the glass over his big head. Causing the chunks of sharp pieces to fall from his balding scalp and onto the dirty wooden floors covered in spit and grime.

But even that didn't stop the liveliness of the bar as people paid no mind to the man who was crying to himself while stumbling over high chairs and small tables to get another drink to drown his stupidity.

Mitsy let the bottle head drop to the floor and strided past the mess and through the bar. Her boots clicked to the beat as she made her way to the creaking staircase located in the back corner of the bar.

When Soda had told her Winston's location he thankfully didn't forget to mention the stairs hidden in plain sight that lead to the teen boys room. She could not help but internally thank him for that information, otherwise she would still be tripping over the unconscious bodies of drunks who weren't able to handle their liquor.

She thundered up the creaky wooden stairs, eyes full of fire and a trigger happy urge in the tips of her fingers. She came face to face with a dusty white door at the end of a short hall. Her heart pumped like gas into a car and her hands shook with suspense.