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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.
