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When I didn’t see anyone in the front half of the RV, I rushed down the hall to the back.
“Brooke?” I called out.
No answer. I kicked the bathroom door open and glanced around. Nothing.
Fuck!
I looked down the hall toward the front. Still seeing no one, I moved to the very back of the RV with a door to what was probably a bedroom.
“Brooke?” I called out, turning the doorknob.
The door was locked. I took a few steps back then rushed toward the door. It opened when I hit it with my arm. I saw Brooke passed out on a bed.
No!
I went to her.
“Brooke?” I asked, lightly slapping her cheek. “Wake up, Brooke.”
She was still breathing, which was good. Had they drugged her? Before I figured it out, I heard the man with the gun calling out from the front of the RV.
“Come on out, football boy. I want to play with you.”
I stood up and glanced down at Brooke. If I rushed the freak with a gun and he shot me, my football career might be over forever. On the other hand – Brooke.
The thought of her made up my mind in less than a second. I took a deep breath, preparing to run down the hall and tackle him before he got a shot off.
If I got lucky, it might actually work.
One more breath. You got this.
“I’m coming for you!” he yelled in a sing-song voice.
Before I had a chance to take off toward him, I heard another voice.
“Police! Drop the weapon!”
“Fuck you!” he yelled back.
Then he screamed bloody murder.
“You tazed me bro! Why did you taze me?”
“Anyone else in here?”
“Back here,” I yelled. “My hands are up, and I don’t have a weapon. Someone is hurt.”
A second later, two officers entered the bedroom.
“Hands up,” one shouted.
“They’re up!” I said, moving them for emphasis.
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing. I just wasn’t willing to wait for you guys.”
“Why don’t they ever wait?” He mumbled. “Hey, aren’t you Austin King?”
