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39

Jack

“ W e have to go in. Now, Carlos.” I’m pissed he isn’t letting me kick the door in like I want.

“Calm down, Jack. Give me one minute. Backup is taking longer than I hoped.” Carlos puts his phone back to his ear and walks a distance from me to finish his conversation.

I turn back to watch the old farmhouse. It’s definitely secluded and rundown. The paint is faded, and the wraparound porch looks one swift breeze away from collapsing.

She’s in there. I know she’s in there. I can feel it.

I’m studying the windows, looking for any sign of movement.

Ian joins me. His face is drawn. “If the cops don’t get here soon, I got your back if you want to head in on your own. I don’t care if they arrest us after.”

I regard my friend. “I might need to take you up on that offer. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand out here, not knowing if she’s okay. Not knowing what’s happening in there.”

My eyes find the house again. The setting sun is blanketing the land with an orange-red glow. It’s eerie and unsettling, ramping up my anxiety.

Ian taps my bicep with the back of his hand. “Did you hear that?”

I take a step toward the house, Ian matching me. “No, what did it sound like?”

“A screen door shutting.”

Movement near the side of the house has us running on instinct. If there’s even a chance that they’re taking Gisella out of the house, there’s no way I’m going to stand around while they take her away from me again.

“Goddamn it, Jack. What the fuck?” Carlos exclaims from behind us. “Kyle, stay here and wait for the rest of the cops. Tell them this idiot made us have to go in.”

It’s seconds before Nate and Carlos are close behind us.

“Go to the front door,” I command in a hushed tone.

Carlos grumbles but cuts off from the group, pulling Nate with him.

Ian and I turn the corner of the house, our guns extended in front of us. I don’t notice anyone at first until a nudging hits my arm, and Ian indicates with a nod to the car parked and angled away from us. We each take a side and round the vehicle, my pulse thundering.

A figure is bent over with half his body in the back seat of the beat-up car.

“Stand up very slowly, or I will blow your head off.” I’ll never know how my voice is as steady as it sounds with the raging emotions hurling through my system.

The man freezes momentarily but does as I directed .

“Put your hands up,” I order harshly, leaving no room for questioning my threat.

Steven Melton straightens to his full height as he cuts his eyes between me and Ian. He’s maybe 5’10”, slightly muscular, and unkempt. The sneer he’s giving us makes me want to shoot him on the spot.

“Well, if it isn’t the whore’s rescue squad. Tell me…” He takes half a step forward. “Is she fucking both of you?”

Ian steps in front of me as I lunge toward Steven. Feeling more enraged than ever before, I let out a frustrated growl. Over his shoulder, he notes, “He’s not fucking worth it.” Then he turns back toward Steven, his voice deadly calm. “Stevie, I need you to tell us who’s inside. And I need you to not lie to me.” Ian takes a step closer. His gun presses into the bottom of Steven’s chin, forcing Steven’s head up. “My friend here has something to lose if he kills you, but me…I have nothing.”

Steven’s heavy swallow shifts the barrel of Ian’s gun. Sweat breaks out on his hairline.

Another swallow.

“My…dad. And…Ella.”

I don’t wait for any more information, knowing Ian will take care of securing Steven. If it’s just his dad, I can take him. Hopefully, he isn’t lying about it being only him inside the house with Gisella.

Without thinking, I enter the back door as quietly as I can. I pull out my phone and text Nate that it’s supposedly just Craig and Gisella inside, and he and Carlos should enter through the front, informing them that I’m entering through the back door.

I’m in what appears to be a laundry room, sans a washer and dryer.

Next is the kitchen, which leads into a hallway. As I step into the hallway, the creak of the front door fills the stale air. From somewhere deep in the house, I hear a raised, deep voice.

There’s another hallway to the right. I nod to Carlos and Nate to go check it out. They follow my silent command. I’m pretty sure the voice isn’t coming from the hallway, with how faint it is. But it should be checked in case Steven was lying.

I slip farther down the entry hall, my footsteps silent in the stale air. I find the dining room, a living room, a coat closet. There’s one closed door I bypassed when I first entered the house. Just as I’m heading back in that direction, Carlos and Nate intercept me.

“It’s clear,” Carlos states quietly.

I point my gun toward the door. “I’m wondering if this is a basement entrance. I’ll check it out, if you two want to check upstairs.”

Carlos shakes his head. “I’ll go upstairs; you two check the basement. Backup will be here in about two minutes.”

Carlos leaves us to head up the stairs. I ease the door open. Nate and I immediately lock eyes.

The voice is significantly louder. “Text Carlos and let him know that he’s downstairs. I’m heading down.”

With a nod, Nate pulls out his phone but states, “I’m right behind you.”

We are halfway down the stairs, when a door slams from below. Footsteps grow louder. Both of us freeze and wait, guns drawn and ready.

Craig turns the corner to the stairs, his face bright red and sweaty. His entire demeanor is agitated. He’s looking down and doesn’t notice us until he’s two steps up and jerks to a stop. “What the fuck?” His voice echoes in the stairwell.

“You must be Craig,” I remark cooly .

“Who the fuck are you?” he sneers.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. The only thing that matters is where the fuck Gisella is.”

I’ll give it to them. He and his son have balls. Or they are incredibly stupid. Even with two guns pointed in his face, he has the gall to smirk. “One of you must be the boyfriend. Steve told me about you.” He attempts to look behind us. “Speaking of, did you kill my wayward son?”

His callousness is shocking. “You don’t seem all that concerned if we did.”

Craig shrugs. “That boy has been…how should I say it… disturbed for longer than I like to admit. Quite the disappointment. He can’t even kidnap someone correctly without getting caught.” He waves his hand dismissively in our direction.

I’m over this conversation. I need to find Gisella. I move my foot to take a step to force him back down the stairs, when Craig takes me by surprise by rushing up the stairs toward us. He knocks his shoulder into my stomach while attempting to push me to the side. I have no idea what his plan is to get through both Nate and me.

Air wooshes out of my lungs as his weight knocks me into the wall. Before he can move past me, I swing my arm and latch onto him around the neck in a chokehold. I pull his back into my chest while trying to catch my breath and not lose my balance. He twists his body and swings his arms, trying to dislodge himself. There isn’t much room to maneuver in the narrow stairwell.

“Stop fucking fighting, you piece of shit,” I grunt out through clenched teeth. I have several inches, many pounds of muscle, and years of hand-to-hand combat training on him, but he has a lot of self-preservation and the tight quarters on his side .

“Goddamn it,” Nate exclaims as he tries to help subdue Craig but catches a punch to the face instead.

That’s when I feel what I’ve been trying to avoid start happening. Craig’s aggressive movements throw me off balance even more on the narrow steps. Weightlessness surrounds me as we both start tumbling down the stairs.

Even with my body half on top of Craig’s back, I grit my teeth when pain shoots up my arm as we land on the concrete floor.

“Fuck,” I groan as I push my weight into Craig to hold him in place. He lets out a whimper but doesn’t attempt to push me off.

Nate’s at my side a moment later. “You okay, man?”

“My arm,” I bark out, trying to catch my breath. I’m positive that at least one bone is broken. And quite possibly a rib. I jut my chin toward the door a few feet away from us. “Go check that room over there.”

He runs over and bursts through the door. “Jack, she’s in here,” he calls out. I hold my breath until he tells me if she’s okay. “She’s alive. Unconscious but alive.”

My eyes burn with emotion at his words, relief blanketing my senses. I push all my weight into Craig as I drag my bruised and probably broken body to standing, causing him to cry out. I kick him onto his back so I can look into his eyes. Squatting over him, I press the barrel of my gun right behind his ear. I’m grateful I landed on my non-dominant arm when we fell. “You’re fucking lucky, Craig. If she wasn’t alive, you wouldn’t be either.”

Carlos thunders down the stairs. “Nate called and said you found her.” His eyes scan me. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?”

“Watch him. I need to see her.” I stumble away, my feet bringing me in her direction as my heart reaches out to her .

My chest aches when I turn into the room. My beautiful, precious Gisella is lifeless in Nate’s arms. She looks so fragile. My breath hitches in my throat, dread taking over my momentary relief.

“She’s alive, Jack. Just focus on that.”

I can’t respond, so I nod.

“The ambulance is here. We need to get you both checked out.”

I follow Nate and Gisella through the house in a daze. All I can see are the bruises and dirt that cover her. Not being the one carrying her is tearing me apart, but with my injuries, if I were to drop her and cause her more pain, I would never forgive myself.