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࣪𓏲ּ ֶָ ✩◿𝓓𝓣𝓐◸ 🂱 ࣪𓏲ּ ֶָ
CHAPTER FORTY SIX—
You better hurry, or she's gonna do it.

Terrance had gone with them the next night to look at houses. Sarah kept watching him in the corner of her eye as they drove. Maybe she wasn't actually angry at him, or maybe she was. It was hard to tell anymore, but she did know she was angry. She hated him, she'd always hated him so goddamn much.

"I'll be in there in a second." Sarah spoke to Gwen when they got back home, encouraging her to go to her room. Gwen nodded her head and went to her room, Sarah waiting to hear her door to shut before she walked to Terrance's room. He was sitting on the bed and sipping a glass of vodka, he looked over oddly when Sarah walked in and shut the door.

"Sarah?" he rose an eyebrow. "What do you want?"

"I want to tell you something." she whispered incase Gwen was listened, she kept her back to the door and palms flat against it. "I wanted to tell you how much I fucking hate you."

He laughed at her. "Not a fan of you either."

"I think you're a terrible father and an even worse human being." she said back, her tone and expression stayed the same. "I hate you for hurting such perfect people and making them fear you ever move. I think it's sick, and you are so fucking pathetic."

Terrence set the glass down and turned his body to her. "Mhm. And why, Sarah, are you telling me this now? You want someone to blame for Finney? You want to blame me? You can."

"I do. I blame you for everything." she said back honestly, pushing off the door some. "I just want you to know that someone needs to tell you what a terrible job you're doing. You really like hurting your kids? You like to hit them? Like watching them cry?"

"Why would I like that?" he asked her as she stood close to him, he had to look up because she was standing and he was on the bed.

"I don't know. Why else would you do it?" she asked him with a shrug. "Because some police officers ask around your work because you can't accept that your daughter is gifted somehow? Or when she says something wrong? Or when Finney is a little too loud in the mornings after you drank your life away all night? That's why you do it? Not because you like it?"

"You-" he stared, but she slammed her fist right in his face. When he hit the bed, she clasped her hand over his mouth to silence him.

"Be quiet." she threatened him, leaning over his body. "You don't like that, do you?"

But, she wasn't looking for an answer. She was looking for revenge, she was looking for payback and to match Gwen and Finneys pain. So, she hit him twice with both fist and clasped her hand over his mouth so he wouldn't make any noise. "Do you?"

He stared as her with a bloody nose and heaving chest. Sarah let his mouth go with a deep inhale, wearing herself out from doing so. She got off him and wipped a tear that escaped her eye, managing to swear blood across her face in the process. "You need to be a better Dad to that little girl, because you're all she has right now. Your kids are the best people i've ever met, and one day you're gonna regret all the things you've done."

She left him there with that, pouring the remaining of his vodka on his face.

Finney looked at the phone as he dug in his pocket and pulled out his spaceship flashlight. He shined it on the dirty wall, slowly moving it with his hand as a faint thumping noise echoed. As he moved closer to the door, a scared gasp left his lips at the sight of Griffin hanging upside down in the air, blood from his throat dripping onto the ground.

Finney breathed heavy as he pointed his finger toward the phone, making the Blake boy stand up and grab the phone. "Hello?"

He turned back, but no one was there. "Hello? Hello?"

"You don't have much time." his child like voice came through. "The Grabber hasn't been sleeping. He thinks this might be it. That he's gonna figure it out."

"Who's gonna figure it out?" Finney frowned his eyebrows together.

"His brother upstairs." he laughed a few times.

"Are you Griffin?" Finney asked, he suspected by how young he sounded.

"Who?" he asked.

"Griffin Stagg." he said it again.

"Probably. It's all a little hazy but I imagine you know all our names." Griffin explained to him, thinking about it since he'd seen Finney. "Is it true you know her?"

"Who?" Finney frowned his eyebrows.

"Sarah." Griffin said back. This time, Finney was confused. He knew Griffin and Sarah had only ever spoken once, she had no connection to him like she did the other boys. Yet, he still asked about her. "You really know her like they say?"

"Yeah, she's my babysit-she's my friend." Finney shook his head. "How do you know Sarah?"

"She's my friend too." he had hope in his tone. "I visited her once. She was nice to me, she didn't look at me like you did just now."

"I'm sorry." Finney felt guilty. "I didn't expect you to be there."

"That's okay." Griffin exhaled. "You need to hurry. She's thinking about doing it again."

"Doing what again?" Griffin kept getting more and more confused.

"She thinks you might be dead." Griffin told him honestly. "She's thinking about coming back to make sure."

"Come back where?" he leaned against the wall.

"Back to the lake." he told him back. "She needs to know you're still alive, or else it's just gonna get bad again. You remember what happened last time."

"How do you know about that?" Finney didn't understand how someone who was dead knew about anything that happened with Sarah last time she found out someone close to her went missing.

"I just do." he said in return. "We like to take turns checking in on her."

"We?" Finney asked. "What's she doing right now?"

"She's throwing newspapers with your face on it." he said back, Finney looked at the paper The Grabber threw at him a few hours ago and knew it had to have been from her.

Finney paced a little. "I didn't know you."

"Nobody did." he said back, but that didn't seem to bother him much anymore. "You spend so many years invisible but then every kid in the state knows your name. You don't have much time. And neither does she."

"Why hasn't he killed me?" Finney was looking for a straight answer, he'd just been too scared to ask.

"You won't play the game." he told him back. "You have to play the game. If you don't play, he can't win."

"What game?" Finney asked, but he really didn't want to know.

"Naughty Boy." Griffin told him in return. "If you don't play Naughty Boy, the Grabber can't beat you. And if he can't beat you, he can't move on to the next part. And the next part of Naughty Boy...is his favorite part."

Finney hesitated. "What's the next part?"

Griffin began to laugh again. "You don't have much time."

"You said that." Finney pointed out.

"Neither does Sarah." Griffin told him yet again. "You better hurry, or she's gonna do it."

"You said that." he repeated.

"He's not been sleeping." Griffin pointed out.

"You said that too." Finney pointed out.

"Yeah, well, he is now in his chair." Griffin told him, seeing from the other room. "He passed out waiting for you to play."

"What good does that do me?" Finney asked him, becoming annoyed. But, then it clicked. "Wait, the doors still unlocked."

"The door is still unlocked." Griffin repeated. "And Sarah's not doing okay."

"Do I just go?" Finney asked him quickly.

"There's a combination lock on the inside of the storm door." he broke the news. "It's my bike lock."

"Your bike lock." hope was in Finneys words.

"Yeah. He took it when he took me." there that sadness was again.

"What's the combination?" Finney didn't have time to sympathize with him, even if he wanted to. He had to go. He had to save himself, and Sarah from what he feared Griffin was talking about.

"I don't remember." he said honestly.

"Griffin!" Finney whined, that hope leaving his body.

"I remember being afraid i'd forget it. That's why I wrote it down." the hope slowly came back as Finney looked around the room.

"What?" his eyes darted in every place. "Where?"

"I carved it with a bottle cap in the wall." he said back, remembering that much.

"Which wall?" he looked around. "Which wall?"

"The one on the right." he watched knowingly. "About shoulder height when you're sitting down."

Finney found it with the help of his flashlight. "23317. 23317. 23317. 23317."

He grasped the phone again. "23317?"

"If you say so." Griffin said back, unbothered.

"What is it- 23-1-7 or 23-3-17 or 2-33-17?" Finney went over every possibility in his head when he remembered how bike locks worked.

"I can't remember." he said honestly.

"Griffin!" Finney rose his voice.

"I can't remember." he said it again more defensively. "You'll have to try them all. And you'll have to be very quiet about it."

"Yeah. Okay." Finney braced himself. "Thanks."

"Yeah." Griffin said back. "Hey?"

"Yeah?" Finney asked him, hoping he'd hurry.

"If you get to Sarah before one of us do, can you tell her something?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. "Tell her that my Mom would really like to hear from her. Please?"

"Your Mom." Finney nodded. "I'll tell Sarah."

Griffin hung up, and Sarah sat in the kitchen of the silent Blake house with a knife clutched to her palm as the blood dropped into the sink, fearing Finneys fate since they hadn't found him yet. It kept crossing her mind, she knew a way to know for certain. She just wasn't sure what to do yet.

•

kylie speaks

even though i'm a lady, if the
grabber ever took me and
griffin told me about that bike
lock, i'd be out of pure luck bc
i literally can not use any type
of combination lock. my manager has to open it for me at work and i could never get it back when i was in school. figured you guys would want to know that