Nicole's POV

Gloria turns the last corner out of town, tires hitting gravel as we drive in the direction of the old mill.

My heart beats restlessly inside my chest and I continuously rub my hands up and down my pant covered thighs as a result of my maxed-out nerves.

A hand takes a hold of my shoulder from behind, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Cool it, Haught. We will find them. It's gonna be okay." Wynonna says, but her voice betrays her own worry when it trembles at the end of the sentence.

Overcome with a need to reassure her despite my own dismay, I place my hand over hers and give it a squeeze in return.

Meeting her gaze in the side mirror, we nod solemnly at each other.

"So Gloria, are you gonna tell us about your great escape?" Wynonna asks when she finally breaks eye contact with me.

Gloria, who had been staring quietly ahead, clearly deep in thought, looks at Wynonna in the rear-view mirror.

She turns down the radio, the somber melody of Love You Like I Do by Vancouver Sleep Clinic fading from the cabin.

"I was kept hostage by Bobo Del Rey and his lackeys for almost three months. They had me set up in a makeshift lab without any windows. Felt like I was deep underground. I was held under 24-hour supervision, with a guard always stationed at my door. My job was to cook drugs. Simple as that. Every week they would bring in a new batch of chems for me to use. Never understood how they got the chems so consistently."

"Rachel. Your daughter was blackmailed into getting them the necessary chemicals. They contacted her via a burner phone and told her they would kill you if she didn't bring them the chemicals at the requested location and time they would send through every couple of weeks." I explain solemnly.

Gloria's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Those bastards. That's why they kept taking a new picture of me every other week… as proof of life to motivate Rachel. Oh my poor baby girl. Where did she get the chems from? She knew I had tight security at the pharmacy."

"Your daughter figured that one out quick. Noticed the veterinary truck pick up some drugs from your pharmacy one day and figured she could hit the farms surrounding Purgatory." I tell her, a little bit of pride for the rebellious teenager seeping into my words.

Gloria allows herself a small smile. "Smart girl, my kid."

"Yeah she was real smart, until she tried her luck at Joy farm. Haught over here caught her red handed." Wynonna pipes up from the backseat.

"Joy farm? Well ain't no better place for a kid to be found. Randy Nedley is a good man." Gloria says and I couldn't agree more.

"He sure is. My first instinct was to take her to the cops, but Nedley said we should give her a chance and try to help her." I say, warmth settling in my chest at the thought of my guardian's immeasurable kindness. It temporarily stems the worry in my veins.

"She told us you were dead in an effort to gain our empathy. Then after a few days she tried to escape from the farm. I caught her again and coaxed her into telling us what was really going on. After she came clean, we decided to help her until we could figure out a way to catch the guys behind this. We started giving her animal meds from the farm to deliver to who didn't know at the time was Bobo Del Rey. She has been staying on the farm this whole time." I say, looking out the window at the myriad of corn and barley passing us by.

Gloria's hand on my thigh causes me to look over at her. Her face meets mine with a light of great gratitude illuminating her features. "Thank you for taking care of my daughter and making sure she was safe. I could never repay you for that."

I smile sincerely back at her. "Rachel's a great kid, she has become like a sister to me." My face turns serious once more. "She and Waverly are going to be okay. We have to believe that." I say with conviction despite my own fears.

She seems to draw strength from this, smiling in thanks before returning her hand to the wheel and staring at the road again.

"I was under constant supervision, like I said. For 12 hours a day I was forced to cook meth, crack and other cheap street drugs for them. If I made a mistake or showed any resistance, they would beat and torture me. So after a week I stopped trying to escape. I knew I just had to bide my time and be vigilant for a chance to get out and back to my daughter. My days consisted of cooking drugs and silently observing everything."

"So it's like a regular Monday for me." Wynonna jokes from the backseat, I roll my eyes good naturedly at her attempt to lighten the heaviness.

Gloria grins at the brunette before continuing her tale.

"Most of my Mondays and other days of the week were spent just like that. I started learning the guard behaviors and shift patterns. I knew that there was 5 minutes between the current guard leaving and the new one arriving. I knew that on every second Tuesday the 2pm guard would always get Taco Bell right before his shift, because they had a two for one special twice a month. I knew because the smell had my emaciated body screaming with hunger every time."

I look over at Gloria in concern, noticing the sharpness of her cheekbones and delicateness of the bones on her fingers. "They starved you." I state.

She nods. "Yeah. Especially if I didn't cook fast enough or did something wrong. They would be sure to give me just enough food and water so I would remain alive enough to continue cooking."

"Sick motherfuckers." Wynonna grits out.

Gloria simply shrugs. "I managed. It was my fine-tuned nose that actually helped me escape. And everyone knows Taco Bell can be a bit of Russian roulette. Sometimes it can be a death sentence to your stomach."

"Oh, I have been there a few times." Wynonna says solemnly. I nod too, not having escaped Taco Bell's destructive powers myself a few times.

"You and the 2pm guard this particular Tuesday. 30 minutes after he arrived for his shift, I watched him speed towards the ablutions. The guards always make sure to check the lock on the laboratory's door whenever they go away from their post. But in his urgency to prevent getting a shit stain from his poor choice in lunch, this guard didn't check. He had plugged in his phone on the wall socket inside the lab upon his arrival for his shift and kept the door unlocked so he could quickly come in and check his messages every few minutes…"

"And when the poop police came for him, dumbass forgot the door was unlocked?" Wynonna says with a guffaw. I can't help but laugh too at her choice of words.

Gloria smirks. "You got that right. Taco Bell had given me a chance at salvation. And I knew I wouldn't get another one soon. So I high tailed it out of there the minute the guard was gone. I had no idea where I was going, I just remember running through this gray hallway and then ducking into a supply closet filled with vases and many boxes that read Swan Flower's. To my luck, the fools had left its window wide open."

Wynonna and I share a look. "You were right." The brunette says, awe and respect in her voice. Then she takes out her phone and sends a quick text. At my quizzical expression she explains her action.

"Sent a text to Dolls to put in an urgent warrant request for the search of Swan Flowers. He has some friends in high places that can put some fire under the police's ass. The floral traces they found in the drugs and Gloria's testimony will be enough."

I nod, impressed. Hope of a victory starts building inside my heart.

I focus my attention on Gloria again. "So you escaped through the window and then tried to break into your apartment?"

She shakes her head. "Not immediately. I had no idea where I was, disorientated from being in the windowless lab for so long. The back of the building I escaped from led into a forest. I ran as far as I could and found a spot to lay low for a while among the trees. I heard shouts echo around me, but they never found me."

"Well done on evading them. How long did you stay in the forest?" I ask, very impressed with her.

"To be safe, I stayed there for the night, hoping they would think I ran off. Luckily it's summer otherwise I would never have survived the night. Then this morning I trekked along a stream which eventually led me back to town, and to my apartment where the cops found me. Little did I know the building I escaped from had been in town the whole time." Gloria ends her tale just as we turn into the dirt road that led to the old mill.

All my focus shifts from Gloria as soon as I witness Wynonna truck on the side of the road. I urge her to pull over and leap out of the car. I hear Wynonna's urgent footfalls follow swiftly behind me.

"Waverly! Rachel!" We shout, approaching the driver's side. Our voices echo off into the landscape, no response returning. My blood turns cold with fear.

Inside of the truck we find no sign of life and my heart nearly ceases in my chest.

I hear a rattle behind me, drawing my attention to the back of the truck where I note Wynonna opening up the lock box.

"Shotgun is still here." She says, her face echoing my concern. She removes the weapon in question, shouldering it.

I look around, trying to find any signs of foul play or track that could tell us where Waverly and Rachel were.

To my frustration, the area surrounding the truck is clean, no footprints or tire tracks.

"Fuckers cleaned up after themselves so we would not be able to track them." Gloria grits out next to me as she scours the landscape.

My hands start to shake as the thought of Waverly and Rachel being hurt, of not being able to help them. Of never seeing Waverly Earp smile at me again.

A hand is placed onto my arm, steadying the shaking limb. "We are going to find them. I promise, nothing will stop me from getting that kid and my sister back from these assholes." Wynonna says and the flash of relentless conviction in them fills me with strength.

After releasing a shaky breath, I nod at her through my doubts. "What… what do we do?"

"Might be a long shot, but we should try calling their phones. I didn't see them in the truck." Wynonna says, handing Gloria her phone.

"You call Rachel and Haught can try my sister. I am gonna head over to the mill to see if I can find anything."

Gloria nods and immediately punches her daughter's number into Wynonna's phone at the same time as I try Waverly's.

We hear a muted buzzing coming from the truck. Gloria follows the sound, reaching below the seat to find Rachel's abandoned phone.

I only manage to find Waverly's voicemail. As I end the call in frustration, I notice the MatchMe app requesting my permission to do an update and am struck with an idea.

I decline the request and open up the app.

It's a long shot but maybe… I search for any matches in our area, watching the loading screen anxiously.

To my relief I find one, the only one there could ever be around Purgatory, and immediately check the radius.

Your match is within 20 miles North East of your location, it reads.

My heart beats with hope as I turn to Gloria. "What is North East of here? Any discreet place that they could potentially have been taken to?"

"The ain't much that way besides farm lands and a couple of old estates. The burnt down remains of the old Svane house among them."

I feel the adrenaline rush my veins, Waverly's last message on MatchMe finally making sense. The two emoji's she sent flashing in my vision.

"Swan House!" I exclaim to a puzzled looking Gloria.

"Bobo Del Rey and Robert Svane are the same person. He took them to the remains of his family house, I am certain of it!" I explain. Her eyebrows raise in awe at my conclusion. "Of course. Well, then let's get over there!" She says, rapidly walking back to her car.

I turn to search for Wynonna, finding her already coming back our way. "Didn't find shit. Any luck with the phone calls?" She says, adjusting the shotgun on her back.

"Sort off. We believe they took Waverly and Rachel to the old Svane manor. Will explain along the way. Let's go!"

"Okay, let me get us some back up." Wynonna says, dialing a number as she gets back into the car.

"Dolls, get me a team sent to Svane manor in Purgatory stat. Hostage situation, perps likely armed and dangerous." I hear Wynonna say as we speed in the direction of Bobo Del Rey's childhood home.

I'm coming, Waves.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Waverly's POV

"Waverly!" Rachel's urgent voice rouses me from my dream of some Haught Shot smiling at me from the back of her wild mustang, her red hair whipping beautifully in the late afternoon sun as the thunderclouds roll in the distance.

I shoot up when a hand shakes my shoulder firmly, feeling a rush of disorientation and sandpaper scratching against the back of my throat when I swallow.

My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of the room to see a worried looking Rachel staring at me.

"Where are we?" I ask groggily.

"Those bozos threw us in some kinda cell in the basement of the Svane house."

I look around at the cell, soot and scorch marks indicative of the fire that ruined the house above so long ago. The air smells stale and feels icy against my skin. An involuntary shiver runs up my spine.

"Did you see them? Do you know what they are planning to do with us?"

Rachel's face falls. "There were just two of them who came in here an hour ago. I pretended to be still asleep. Heard them say something about needing me alive and wanting to take me to their lab."

I remember the conversation I overheard in the car, lathering my body in dread.

"Just you, right? They want to kill me." I say, voice tired and ridden with sadness and what could have been.

Rachel grabs my hand, meeting my gaze with a heat of determination. "I won't let them do that. I'll make a scene, fight them, bite them. I don't care. We are leaving this place together. Nicole and Wynonna are coming for us, I know it."

Rachel's conviction and the reminder of Nicole douses a large portion of my dread. I smile up at her.

"Thanks Rachel. Yeah, it's gonna be just fine. I mean, we have faced cows with mastitis and wrangled wild horses. This is nothing in comparison."

Rachel laughs, causing my smile and morale to grow as the stifling heaviness surrounding us eases somewhat.

I hear the door to the outside of the basement rattle, indicative of one of our captors coming in.

My mind suddenly reels with a multitude of self-defense tactics from the many YouTube tutorials Wynonna forced me to watch and practice when we were kids, and an idea starts to form. It wasn't much, but could give us a shot of getting out.

"Do you still remember how to avoid a cow kick?" I ask Rachel urgently.

She looks at me in puzzlement. "Watch for signs of distress in the animal, keep my feet mobile so I can transition to a safer position as soon as she kicks. Like you and Nicole taught me."

"Good. I am going to need you to be both the kicking cow and avoid the kick in a minute."

Her face contorts with confusion. "Waves, what are you…"

"I need you to pretend to have an allergic reaction. They need you alive, so I'm betting the person coming towards us will at least try to prevent you from dying. Once he is close, I need you to uppercut him as hard as you can."

Understanding dawns on Rachel's face, and her face morphs into determination. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Good. Once he is distracted by his pain, make a break for the basement door. It leads to the outside, I saw it in the picture of the house Nicole and I found in our research."

"What about you? You're coming too right?" She asks, doubt and fear suddenly alive in her eyes. My heart softens, the rebel teenage girl having made herself a home in it.

"I'll be right behind you." I promise just as we hear heavy footsteps come closer.

Satisfied, yet still looking a little hesitant, Rachel lays down on the floor. I kneel right by her side just as the daunting shadow of a tall, lean and armed man appears at the cell door.

"Your time is up little angel. Time to fly to heaven." He says darkly, unlocking the cell.

I recognize his accent instantly from the van.

Yorkie.

I squeeze Rachel's arm and she starts to shake violently.

"Help! I think she is having a reaction to the drugs you gave her. She could die, please help her!" I say in a desperate and teary voice in my best acting effort.

He pauses, looking at Rachel's writhing body with mistrust. She starts writhing even more violently, banging her read against the floor with her effort.

I discreetly place my hand behind her head to prevent her from really hurting herself and then I turn on the hysterics. Tears flow down my face like rain as I implore him again to help.

It works when he finally walks over to us and lowers his body down to inspect Rachel.

I squeeze her arm in the second signal and she raises her arm like a lightning bolt, hits him under his chin with all her might. He grunts in pain, his head reeling back from the force of the blow.

"Now, Rachel! Run!" I shout and watch her rocket out the door as I try to reach for his gun. Unfortunately he recovers much too soon, grabbing my arm right before I could make contact. "Stupid bitches!" He utters before hitting me against the head with the butt of the gun I failed to take.

I hope Rachel makes it out. Are my last thoughts before I succumb once more to darkness.