Retribution

Chapter Seventeen

I held onto my mother's wrist tightly, running as fast as I could without looking back. My arm was in a lot of pain, but I still kept running. I wondered how she got here, so I couldn't help but ask.

"How did you get here?" I inquired her.

"Your husband dropped me off," Mom replied.

"Why? You could die here."

"A mother's job is to look after her chlidren, you know."

She was right. We needed to get back to Reyna.

Somehow, Mom had the tendency to look behind her. She let out a small noise.

"Felicia," Mom squeaked, "we've got company."

We stopped for a split second, for I needed to check to see who was on our tail. The girl from earlier, Casey, was just rounding the corner. There was no need to run now. It was time to retaliate, no matter how much pain I was in or if I was going to beat up a teen.

"Stay back," I ordered.

"Felicia, you're hurt."

"Stay back!"

Mom back away, with genuine fear written all over her face. For a minute, I sounded a lot like You-Know-Who.

Casey came to a complete halt. Her hand went to her pocket for a nonexistent gun. My father probably took it from her. Infuriated by this, she approached me with her fists in front of her face. I left my injured arm by my side and attempted to fight wih only the heathier hand.

Her fist flew into my injured arm the moment she saw the bandage. The impact hurt so much that I could barely move from my spot. My mother stood, too frozen with fear to move. Casey grabbed a fistful of my shirt. She reached out of her back pocket and revealed what looked like a walkie talkie. Out of nowhere, she started cackling.

"I got her Boss," she panted between giggles, "We're by the room 115. That's right. Come get us."

"I'm on my way," the staticy voice of my father muttered back.

Casey turned her attention to me. "Now listen here, bitch! I ain't fuckin' playin' around, and you better respect my boss! Do you hear me?"

"How could I--"

A hand wrapped around my throat. "Do you hear me!!"

"I hear you," I managed to choke. I saw my mom slowly walk toward us.

Casey gripped my throat harder, causing me to gag. "Back off, bitch!"

Mom backed away, tears flooding in her eyes. Realizing I had my free hand, I took a hold of Casey's wrist and tried to pry her hand off of my neck. I must have grasped her wrist hard, because I heard a crack. The grip around my throat loosened and I could finally breath again. I celebrated with a hearty cough.

My minisquel victory was cut short when the familiar sound of boots thumping against the hard tile floor echoed through the halls. Casey also heard the footsteps, and ordered me to get up. She was still holding on to my shirt. After about thirty seconds of my heart racing, he finally appeared before us.

"Follow me," he barked at his follower. Casey grabbed my mother's shirt, and together we followed Dad all the way to the gym. It looked so haunted with all the lights turned off. I was never in the gym without the lights out. The only time I was in the gym was for pep rallies. The whole way there, Mom was whimpering. The only way I could help her was to give her a glance of reassurance.

Once we arrived, my dad pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Wait...handcuffs? Where did he get those?

He then locked them around my wrists behind my back, making sure they were tight to the point where my skin was going to become raw, and ordered me to kneel.