Don't - Mark Tuan Fanfic (Third Book for 'Can't')

8 - Am I Really Just Imagining Things?

"My mom?" Suddenly my heart rate doubles,  beating like it wants to come out of my chest. "Wh...What about ... What about her?" The words stumble out of my mouth, though I want to take them back, I don't think I want to hear what Karen has to say.

"Cris...." She pulls me back on the chair, slowly taking the one opposite mine. "She's ... missing."

I stare at her, my throat getting drier as seconds tick by. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. Missing? My mom? What does she mean missing? But, I couldn't let my questions come out.

"She's been kidnapped, Cristina." She says, as if reading my mind.

"No ..." Finally the words leave my mouth. "This can't be happening. Not her. Please tell me it's just a terrible joke." Tears flow down my cheeks. "Karen?" My eyes are hopeful as I look at her. But, her silence gives me the answer I don't want to hear. "My dad? Where is he?"

"He's fine." She answers immediately. "I'm sorry, Cris." She moves forward, letting me sob on her shoulder as she puts her arms around me, patting me gently on my back.

"Who?"

"That ... we don't know yet."

"I have to go." I get up, wiping the useless tears. "I have to see my dad. He must be ..."

"No..." He pulls me back down. "No, Cris. You can't go there."

"But ... My dad." I raise my voice, with much urgency now. "I have to get on that plane."

"It's safer here for now."

"Did my dad send you?"

"No ... Yes..." She shakes her head, holding my arms. "Not really. He's sent someone to come get you ... But, we don't know where he is."

I grab my bag from the table, yanking my arms free from her grasp. "I have to go see my dad. My grams ... Lita..."

"Cris." She raises her voice, too. "Your dad wouldn't want you there. We have to go somewhere ... but not LA." She takes my bag from me and pulls me towards the exit.

"Where are we going?" I follow her out.

"I don't know. Just ... not here for now. They might have sent someone to look for you at the airport. They might know your flight." She rumbles on with her worries. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait." I stop before getting in the taxi that's already waiting outside the airport. "Mark."

"What?" She turns to face me, holding the door open. "We don't have time for him, Cristina. You can't go back to your apartment. There might be people there by now."

Exactly my point. What if there are people there? What if they're taking Mark, too?

I push her gently and get in the cab, giving the driver the address of my apartment.

"No ..." Karen says. "Just take us to the nearest hotel, please." She tells the driver.

"Karen."

"Cristina."

I glare at her.

She glares back at me.

"I have to know if Mark's alright." I say, gritting my teeth, not breaking the eye contact.

"Why? There's no point. He could be part of this for crying out loud." She answers back. "We can't just trust anyone, Cris. You should know that."

"Mark is not just anyone."

"God damn it, Cris." She shouts now.

"What?" The driver seems exasperated as he turns his head to us. "Where do you want me to take you?"