“Relax, my man. That is where my expertise lies.” Zander says, pulling a laptop out of the bookbag he’s carrying. Zander’s been working freelance security for the last few months, working for the local precincts here and there when they need someone found in not-so-legal ways or they need his brain. He drops down in the chair across from us, opening the computer and banging away on it. “Lex pull up your call log. What time did Whitley call you?” She unlocks her phone and pulls the call up for him to see. He continues punching keys on the computer and I stand from the couch, pacing the length of the living room. How could I be so selfish to not tell her when all this shit between us first started? I yank on the ends of my hair, feeling completely fucking unhinged.
A rapid knock at the door interrupts us and Lex rushes to answer it with me right behind her. She flings the door open and its Leaf, from the coffee shop.
“Leaf, honey, what’s wrong?” Lex asks and he shoves past her, scanning the room before his eyes land on Jensen.
“You’re a cop, right?” He asks and I take in his appearance. Dark circles under his eyes, his clothes disheveled. Jensen affirms that he is in fact a cop. “I was on my way to the station, but I saw your cruiser out front. I need your help. Indigo didn’t come home last night.” Lex gasps, her hands covering her mouth.
“When did you last see her?” Jensen asks, pulling out a pad of paper.
“Last night around five p.m. We were working and she had a migraine, so I told her to go on home and I would close up the shop. When I got home around eight thirty, she wasn’t there. I retraced the trip she would have taken home, but I didn’t see anything.”
“Did she drive herself home?” Jensen asks, scribbling more shit on his notepad.
“No, she walked. We always drive together, and I told her to take the car, but she said the fresh air would help and that she wanted to walk.” Leaf’s voice cracks at the end of that statement and Lex pulls him in for a hug.
Jensen meets my eyes, his face grim, as he pulls his phone out.
“Chantelle, it’s Jensen. I need you to round up any available units and send them to Ford James’s house, ASAP. We have two missing women that I need a BOLO out on, now.”
“Got it! So that call to Lex pinged at a tower near Road Z,” Zander starts, clicking more buttons, “somewhere within a ten mile radius.” I peer over his shoulder at the screen, looking at the location on the map. “Now usually, I could hack into the street cameras.”
“Fuck, James. Seriously?” Jensen grits out, sliding his phone back in his pocket.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” Zander murmurs, inputting more information and opening more screens. He zooms in the location where we think she may have been picked up. “As I was saying, I can’t hack street cameras since there aren’t any, but we might get lucky and someone may have caught something on a security camera.” He starts packing everything up.
“I’ll stay here and let you know if I hear from Whitley. Leaf, why don’t you stay with me, too. I’ll make you some hot tea. Dean, I’ll send Ford when he gets home,” Lex says, squeezing me in a hug. “Go find our girl,” she whispers, tears springing to her eyes. I’ll fucking kill Kolby with my bare hands if he hurts Whitley.
Whitley
My stomach rolls, the urge to vomit overwhelming. I roll over, dry heaving off the edge of the bed, but nothing comes up. I sit up and the entire room spins, causing me to groan, my head throbbing. No clue how long I’ve been here, it feels like days but it’s probably not. Making my way to the small toilet in the corner of the room on wobbly legs, I do my business and lean against the sink, slurping water from my hands.
Meandering around the small cement room, I try the door handle. Locked. Of course. The only window is super small with bars on it and all the way at the top of the wall. I assume this is some sort of basement. Save for the toilet and sink, there’s not much in here at all. Just the bed and a small nightstand. I check the drawers, lookin’ for anything that I could use as a weapon or to try to unlock the door. Nothing. No clock on the wall to tell me what time it is. Is anyone even looking for me?
There’s a bottle of water that I didn’t notice on the floor by the door, along with a sandwich of some sort. My stomach growls. I’m starving but not willing to eat or drink anything he brings me because it could have something in it. He already put drugs in my system so who knows that the hell is in that. I’ll die of starvation before I touch anything he brings me.
The time passes slowly. I listen for sounds above me, but it’s quiet. No footsteps, no voices. I can’t hear anything from the small window either. I’ve screamed for help until my throat is raw. I can only hope someone outside hears me and calls the police. I can’t hear any cars, unsure where we are even at.
I slide down the wall, sitting on the floor and pulling my knees up to my chest. Will I ever see Dean again? My friends? My mom? Tears fall from my eyes and I brush them away. I won’t go down without a fight, that’s for damn sure.
Zander
Scanning the area, I look for anything out of place. Clothing, blood, tire tracks. We’ve been up one side of the road where Whitley’s cell phone pinged, and we are making our way slowly back down the other side of it. Jensen called the department and asked them to send a K9 unit. Dean is walking the tree line, out of his mind with worry. Shit, I would be too if my girlfriend went missing suddenly. I’m pissed I couldn’t find more information from that phone call she made.
The rains last night were heavy, downpours lasted basically all night long. Any blood that may have been here could have been washed away. I scrub my hands over my face and prop my fists on my hips, racking my brain. There are no houses like I hoped there would be so we could pull any security camera footage.
“Zander!” Dean hollers from ahead of me, stooped down inspecting something. I jog over to him and he points at an earring on the ground. “That’s one of Whit’s,” he grits out, hand flexing into a fist. I whistle for Jensen to bring me an evidence bag from his cruiser. Bagging it carefully before I pass it off to Jensen, I stand and scan the area where it was found, not seeing much more indication that anyone was here. The K-9 unit pulls up and unloads the dog.
Dean is detached from the group, taking everything in. I meander over and clap him on the shoulder.
“Listen dude, we’ll find her. I promise,” I say, knowing I’m confident in my skills and the police department. I didn’t work special forces for all those years for nothing. Can’t count the number of missing people I found overseas, pulled them out of shitty situations. I also can’t count the number of times I’ve almost been killed for it.
Dean lets out a shaky breath. “I’m just mad at myself for lettin’ her walk off like that.”
“Now, you and I both know Whitley. I’m sure there was no room for discussion on it,” I say, and he huffs out a laugh, a lone tear slipping out of his eye. “Now come on, let’s go see if the K9 has found anything.
We both head into the woods, pushing the thick brush out of our way, following the trail the officer took. Shit, if she did run this way this is some thick terrain. It’d be hard to push through for someone of her size. The K9 is sniffing, zig zagging back and forth along the branches and brush. He pulls his handler over to a tree, whining before sitting down stock still.
Dean’s entire body locks up, muscles tense. The officer pulls a glove out of his pocket, bending down to inspect the ground. Jensen follows, doing the same.
“Shit,” Jensen hisses out, roughing a hand through his hair.
“What?” Dean bites, prowling towards Jensen and I’m right behind him.
Fuck. Blood. Right on the ground, not washed away by the rain. Something similar to a roar tears out of Dean.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” he proclaims, punching the tree trunk. His knuckles split open. Jensen stands to try and talk him down as I scan the area. Dense woods, Alabama is a hunting state. I scan the area. Fucking bingo.
“Gotcha, mother fucker,” I jog over,
pulling the trail cam out of the tree across from where the guys are collecting evidence.
“Fuck yes,” Jensen murmurs, clapping Dean on the shoulder. I snag the SD card from the cam and jog back to my truck parked out on the road with Dean right behind me.
“Jensen is gonna run that sample to the lab and put a rush on it.” He says, jumping in the passenger side of my truck as I open my laptop and slide the SD card into it.
“Good, hopefully that mother fucker’s DNA is in there somewhere,” I mumble, queuing up the cameras feed and rewinding the images all the way back to last night around midnight. I click through the images, slowing down as I come upon a blurry image. I click to the next, comes into focus, and the next, my lungs seize. A clear shot of Kolby. Next image, Whitley on the ground with Kolby standing over her. Dean punches my dashboard.
“Easy on the merchandise, bro,” I scold, flipping to the next shot. Whitley, fighting as he picks her up. The next frame is nothing.
I attach all the images to an email and forward it to myself, pulling the card out. Jensen appears in the window, handing me the sample of blood from the woods.
“Drive straight to the lab, they know you’re coming. They’re going to test it right away,” he jogs off to collect more evidence and I fire up my truck as Dean clicks his seatbelt on.
I raise a brow, “Guess you’re comin’ with me, huh?” He narrows his eyes at me.
“Drive.”
Dean
I make another pass in front of the desk in the lab, the receptionist eyeballing me. I probably look like a crazy person prowling back and forth, waiting on the lab tech to tell us anything. Zander’s sitting in the corner, tapping away on his phone, ignoring me for the most part. He got us here in record time, breaking practically every law he could.
I’m going out of my mind not knowing where Whit is and if she’s safe. Once Avery pulled the file we had on Kolby at the bar, we discovered the address he used was nothing, just an empty lot near the edge of town. We’ve chased down every lead we’ve had on him so far and he’s a fucking ghost. The door to the lab opens and my head whips towards it as the tech strolls out.
“Officer James,” he calls out and Zander stands from his chair, striding over. He shoots me a wink.
“Any hits?” He asks, pocketing his phone and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Y-yeah, one.” He hands the paper over to Zander, who looks it over.
“Great work, kid. Thanks,” He hands me the paper and pulls his phone out. My eyes scan it. Damian Jones. He’s been using a fucking alias.
“Caine, brother. You got a minute?” Z asks, reaching his hand out for the paper. He looks it over. “Need you to run a name for me. Damian Jones, DOB 7/2/1987.” He listens for a second. “Yeah. No. Uh huh. Aw shit, am I interrupting something, sweetheart?” A wide grin splits his face. “Yeah bro, send me the address. Talk soon,” he finishes disconnecting just as his phone pings with a text.
“Ready to go fuck some shit up?”
Fuck yes, I am.
Whitley
“HELP!” I scream for what feels like the millionth time, my throat raw. I bang on the door with my fists.
“Come down here and face me you fuckin’ coward!” Pounding on the door, screaming at the top of my lungs. I’m so hungry. He hasn’t been down at all. It feels like days, but it’s probably been only hours. I pace the length of the room some more, trying to figure a way out of this. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and inhale a sharp breath. I run to stand beside the door, waiting for him to open it. If I can just get past him and up the stairs, then hopefully I can run for help. Keys clink together as he inserts one into the lock, the mechanism turning over. The handle turns. I inhale a breath, trying to pull from memory everything I learned at the self-defense class I took with Lex and Clarissa a few months ago. The door opens and he steps through the doorway, turning around to shut it behind him.
I jump on his back and he crashes into the door. I dig my fingers into his eye sockets.
“Mother fucker!” He roars out, flipping me over his shoulder and I hit the concrete floor, all the air knocked out of me. Christ, that hurts. Kolby has blood streaming down his face as he lunges for me. Bringing my elbow up, I crack him in the jaw, his head jerking to the side.
My knee comes up, making contact with his groin and he doubles over, hitting the floor beside me. I spring to my feet and rip the door open, sprinting for the stairs. I burst through the door at the top of the stairs into what seems to be the kitchen. Sprinting through the house to the front door but it’s no use, there are four interior locks lining the door and all of them take a key. Shit. I scan the room, anxiously running my fingers through my hair. I could break a window. Looking for something heavy, I hear footsteps on the stairs. Fear grips me as I sprint through the house and into a bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind me.
Oh my god. My stomach rolls as I take in the room. There’s a computer in the far left corner, the screen filled with a picture of the basement, pointed directly at the bed. He’s been watching me this entire time. I slap a hand over my mouth, muffling my sobs. Photographs line the walls, mostly of me. There are pictures of me at the bar, me in my apartment, taken through the window. Some of me outside Deans house or of us walking Ranger in town. There are shots of me at the beach with Lex and Avery in my bikini. But the one that’s making my stomach sour is the picture of Kolby and me. It was taken last year at the bar’s Christmas party. He was dressed as Santa and I’m in a skimpy elf outfit. Everyone took turns sitting on his lap while Fred took pictures, and our picture is hanging above his bed. A soft thunk comes from the closet door. I make my way to it and fling the door open.
“Holy shit,” I drop to my knees and take in Indigo, her one eye is black and blue, swollen shut. Her mouth is taped. “I’m going to take this off, okay?” I whisper, trying to stay quiet so he doesn’t hear us. She nods her head. I lift the tape from one side and rip it off then I go about untying her hands.
“Is he coming?” She whispers, rubbing her wrists where the rope was biting into her skin. A commotion coming from the living room has both of us swiveling our heads towards the door. I help Indigo up and hold my finger over my lip, telling her to keep quiet. She nods her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. I scan the room, looking for anything I can use as a weapon. I grab the lamp off the nightstand, ripping the cord from the wall. A floorboard creaks down the hallway and I step in front of Indigo, raising the lamp above my head. Her hands grip my shirt from behind.
Footsteps move closer to the room, heavy boots echoing on the hardwood floor, sounding his approach. The knob turns and the door opens slowly.
“Oh my god,” I cry, dropping the lamp and flinging myself at him.
“Shh,” Dean says, wrapping his arms around me, holding me tight against him, cradling the back of my head in his hands as sobs rack my body. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He consoles me. I lean back and look at his handsome face.
“I’m so sorry, so fucking sorry,” he starts but I cut him off, sealing my lips over his, desperate to lose myself in him. He reluctantly pulls away, eyes scanning my face, narrowing on the bruise on my cheek where Kolby punched me, tracing his finger tenderly over it.
“Did he...” he trails off, leaving the words unsaid. I shake my head and bury my face in his neck.
“No,” I choke out, “but I was so afraid he would.” Afraid he’d take something that wasn’t his to have, wasn’t his to take. Dean’s eyes go over my shoulder and he talks to Indigo.
“You okay, honey?” He asks and she nods her head, wrapping her arms around her middle. He ushers her out the door ahead of us.
“Dean, cops,” is called from the living room and he heads that way with me still in his arms, my face buried in his neck. I look around, eyes falling on Kolby’s body on the floor.
“Is he dead?” I ask, almost wishing he were for what he’s put me through, but knowing deep down that’s not the kind of person I am.
>
“Nah, just knocked out cold from your boyfriend's killer right hook,” Zander says, patting Kolby’s pockets until he finds the set of keys, unlocking all the locks on the front door as the police flood in. They clear the house, making sure there isn’t anyone else here. Dean prowls outside with me still attached to him, sinking down on the porch, and not letting go of me even while the paramedics look me over. A growl erupts from him when I tell them about the needle and I grip his face in my hands, pressing another kiss to his lips, effectively calming him down.
“Gonna need you to come to the hospital, Whit. Make sure everything is Kosher, see what it is he injected you with,” the EMT says as he packs his bag up. “I’m assuming you’ll be escorted by your man friend here, just need you to sign saying you refused the ambulance ride.” I fill out the paperwork as more people show up, Ford’s truck barely stopped before Leaf is out of it and he makes a beeline for Indigo and Lex is throwing her door open and sprinting across the yard to where we are on the porch, checking me over to make sure everything’s okay. Avery is right behind her, escorted by Jaxson. Her and I will have to talk about that later. Once everyone is assured that I am in fact fine, they finally disperse, with promises of seeing me later.
Dean loads me into the backseat of Zanders truck, climbing in right behind me. He pulls me across the bench seat to him and tucks me into his side, pressing a kiss to my temple. My body finally starts to relax, the adrenaline rush finally wearing off. And as we weave down the roads, I find myself falling asleep, curled into Dean.
Dean
“Dean, stop. I’m fine,” she says for what has to be the fiftieth time as I fuss over her. Zander chuckles from across the room where he's sitting. Nurses have been in and out, taking Whitley’s vitals and giving her fluids to try and push out whatever was injected into her. We’re still waiting on the blood results. I about lost my shit when the police came in to take their report on what happened. Zander had to drag me out of the room, knock me around a little until I chilled the fuck out. Wouldn’t let me back in until I did.
Come Back for You: Boys of Alabama Page 13
