One-hundred-decibel, nerve-shredding wailing. Remy tried everything to make him stop, but Mason was the one who needed calming. He was causing the upheaval, rampaging through their belongings again, looking for dope or reasons to stay pissed off at her. His fit of rage was a repeat of yesterday’s explosion after their brush with death on the freeway. Mason had lost his mind, took the baby and stomped into the field to do God knows what. It was all that Remy could do to talk him down, persuade him to give up the baby and get back in the truck. The incident had not only shaken them, it had intensified Mason’s cravings and inflamed his fears that they were being pursued, to the point that Remy’s brain began throbbing with the onset of a spell. “Mason, I swear if you don’t stop it my head is going to explode!” Remy was cradling the baby, but in her agitated state her attempts to rock him turned into rigid bouncing, which worsened matters.
