Page 95 of DFF: Delicate Freakin' Flower

“She’s injured,” I snapped. “Head trauma, broken bones, fresh surgical wounds—she shouldn’t even be out of a hospital bed, let alone bouncing around the goddamn bayou.”

No one said anything to that. Because we all knew—if Gabby was behind this, and if Ira had agreed to it—then she must have had a damn good reason.

Still, it didn’t stop the fear from coiling tighter and tighter in my chest.

“She’s trying to draw Barris out,” Marcus said, almost to himself. “Or finish this on her terms.”

I nodded once tightly. “Yeah, and if we don't move fast, she’s going to be alone when he finds her.” I turned back to Malcolm. “Keep tracking them. If they make another stop, I want to know the second it happens—gas station, store, toll booth, whatever. Don’t miss a thing.”

“On it!” He typed even faster.

I looked around at the others—my brothers, my friends, my family—and saw the same fierce resolve burning in their eyes that I felt deep in my gut. We were going to find her. We were going to end this. One way or another, it was happening.

I was pacing behind the couch, trying to think ten steps ahead and failing, when Sasha’s voice cut clean across the room. “You guys are focusing on the wrong thing.”

I stopped and turned, along with everyone else.

She crossed her arms, stance stubborn. “Barris should be the priority. Not Gabby.”

The whole room stared at her like she’d just suggested we go on a group cruise with Maddox and Barris as our bunkmates.

Even Jackson, her husband, looked mildly horrified. “Honey, I love you, but are you hearing yourself? Gabby’s out there with Ira—and no offense, Ira’s great, but he’s what, eighty-five? She’s injured, and Barris is a psycho with a personal vendetta.”

Sasha shrugged, completely unfazed. “And yet, Gabby’s survived worse. She’s smart, and with Ira hiding her, she’s probably safer out there than we are sitting here doing nothing. If you really want to protect her, then don’t just wait—find the danger before it finds her.”

Marcus rubbed a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath about women with too much sense being terrifying.

Jesse leaned in and whispered to Elijah, “She’s kind of scary when she’s right.”

Elijah just nodded grimly.

Still, Jackson wasn’t done. “Technically, an old man pushing a half-broken woman through swamp country is a danger, too.”

Sasha gave him the look—that one that could make grown men reconsider their life choices. She held up a hand, fingers stiff like a queen dismissing her court. “Nope. Logic says find Barris. You all know it.”

It ate at me to admit she wasn’t wrong. As much as it twisted my gut to think of Gabby somewhere out there, hurting, exhausted, and vulnerable, I knew Sasha had nailed it. Chasing after her would only split our focus, and Barris would still be out there, still hunting.

Malcolm cleared his throat from the table, looking up from where he was working three devices at once. “Just so we’re clear, my cousin’s scaring the crap out of me right now with how serious and bossy she’s being.”

Benny snickered but didn’t disagree.

“But she’s right,” he added, tapping a few keys rapidly. “Good news is, we’re already on it. I've tot Barris’s financial transactions pulled up. Anything linked to him—cards, dummy accounts, off-the-books spending—are all synced to Remy’s laptop.”

Remy gave a thumbs-up from where he was hunched over, scrolling through charges and flagged transactions.

“Meanwhile,” Malcolm continued, “I’ve got Matty running facial and license plate recognition on any known vehicles tied to Barris. If he so much as drives past a gas station camera in a stolen Honda Civic, we’ll get an alert.”

Matty glanced over his shoulder. “And I've layered it with known rental agencies. If he rents a car using one of his fake IDs, we’ll know.”

The room went quiet for a beat—thick with tension but also with something else. Determination. We were finally getting somewhere.

I cracked my knuckles, rolling my shoulders back as I looked at the wall of laptops, monitors, and phones lighting up like we were operating an underground war room.

“All right,” I said, voice steady. “We find Barris first.”

I met each of their eyes in turn. Jesse. Marcus. Elijah. Remy. Matty. Malcolm. Jackson. Even Sasha.

“And when we do... we end this.”

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