Page 87 of Buried Roots

The Capture

Itakeoffinthe direction I hear rustling. When I get close enough, I can see I’m chasing a thin-framed man wearing a hoodie. I speed up—this has to be the person who caused the stable fire, and probably everything else.

And I have to catch him, but he’s running like a rocket. As I watch him maneuver through the trees, I realize it does look kind of like Levi. It must be Levi!

I knew that kid was trouble. I push my legs till they’re burning, and I can’t believe I’m so close, but not close enough.

He cuts a hard left, disappearing into the foliage. When I do the same, I groan as my bare feet slip on the mud, losing further ground.

When I stand and start running again, an ache radiates from my leg, and I can’t move as fast. Now, I’m a good distance behind Levi, disheartened that he’s getting smaller in the distance.

I stop, bending my head over my knees to catch my breath when I see a figure burst through the trees and chase after Levi, making up ground as he runs at lightning speed.

Thank god—Owen.

Owen catches up to Levi and grabs his hood. I exhale in relief—Owen’s got him.

But the kid unzips his jacket, leaving Owen holding it as he slips away from his grip. “Dammit,” Owen cries out.

I’m gaining ground on them after that hiccup slowed them down, but the kid gets to the fence of the property and carefully climbs it before Owen can get there. When Levi flips to climb down the other side, he ducks his head, probably so we can’t see his face.

But his deliberate moves are those of someone older than Levi. It hits me that my biological father is also small-framed and around five eleven.

Could it be?

It was an older man’s face I saw in the barn window that night!

When Owen jumps on the fence, the perp loses his balance, then disappears beneath the fence before a sickening thud echoes from the other side.

Owen jumps over at whiplash speed while I lag, still fighting against the ache in my leg.

When I make it to the other side, the perp is lying on the ground, face down, and Owen is kneeling beside him. I gasp when I realize that it’snotLevi or my biological father, as I see a dark ponytail that was hidden by the hood. And the muscular form is from a Batman suit under the hoodie. Is this he a she? Who the hell is this?

As I approach, it’s clear from her slow movements that she’s injured, and blood is seeping from her head.

Owen’s face twists in terror as he gently flips her around. He cries out in anguish, screaming, “Ma?”

35

The Truth

Owenripstheshirtoff his back to put it on her wound.

“I’m fine, Owen, stop fussing.” Frankie holds his shirt to her head.

“How could you do this!” I look over toward my estate, or what used to be my estate, in utter disbelief. “How could you burn everything down? Put the horses’ lives in danger? And Owen’s? And mine?”

“The fire wasn’t me.” For the first time, Frankie’s voice shakes.

“Ma.” Owen rakes a hand through his hair. “What the hell is going on?”

She stands slowly and carefully. “Just hear me out. Please. If you want to press charges afterward, go ahead. But not until you hear me out.”

Fire’s racing through my veins and blood’s rushing in my ears so loudly I can hardly hear. I’ve never been so tempted to storm away, but Owen’s hand is on my shoulder. “Please hear her out. You may not owe her that, but I do.”

I squeeze my eyes shut before opening them and avoiding her gaze. “Fine.”

Owen checks Frankie’s wound and lets out a sigh. “The bleeding’s stopped, but you’re gonna need a few stitches. I’ll get the van. We’ll go to the clinic.”

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