A/N: Sorry this has taken so long! Big chapter so get some snackaroonies and enjoy x
••• The FaceTime ends a second after and me and my dad are left in a stunned, yet extremely panicked silence.
"Those are your boys right?" my dad eventually says.
"Yes dad, duh" I respond through a storm of tears, my heart pounding faster than your own dad left you, "I don't know what to do! Dad, I can't let her kill them!" 😭.
He sighs, "Well, if there's one thing that's not gonna happen it's you dying. We will get your boys out safe".
"H-h-h-h-h-o-o-o-w-w a- ar- are you so calm right now?" I stutter as my dad helps sturdy me. Oh my god I can't stop shaking, ya'll better be feeling so fucking bad for me rn. ☹️
John holds my shoulders, looking me in the eyes with a fatherly warmth that I haven't seen glinting in his eyes since the year '08, aka the year the first King Fu Panda Movie released.
He speaks, "I escaped a drug cartel, a cult and prison, I think I know a thing or two about getting out alive".
I sniff through my tears, "Y- you were in a cult?".
"Yes, but anyways, what I'm trying to say Yolly is your Strapendio twins will be okay" John Goldson says, patting my back, "As long as we act fast".
I nod, chills already being sent down my body at the thought of the triplets being injured 🥺. "We gotta go now then" I boom loudly.
My dad nods, stands up and just walks over to the musty looking cabinets. God this inn is nasty. I'll pop a pic of the website listing of this place:
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Like I'm sorry but this place boring as an asscheek. Beige is out Galaxy is in. Maybe I should open an airbnb so mfs know how to do it right. Anyways back to story!
"What are you doing?" I ask him, slipping my Galaxy thongs on (not that kind of thong you pervet).
"Getting prepared" he tells me, turning around with a Nike fannypack wrapped around his waist like an eshay. He also has a Hatsan SpeedFire 1250 Airgun .22 cal, Break Barrel, Vortex Gas Piston, Ambidextrous, 1250 fps, includes Scope, Pellet .22 caliber Airrifle in his left hand.
Bruh, I just know there's some fucked up shit in that fanny pack. "Dad, what's in that fanny pack?" I ask.
"Ammo for my gun, a pound of whitey, my vape, a pocket knife and a Polaroid of your mother" he tells me, zipping it up.
I'm confused, "Why the polaroid?".
"For... luck" he tells me, "Now, come on kid, we have twins to save".
