I didn’t know if it was my mind trying to protect me from the overwhelming feeling of loss and missing my former life, but everything was fading. Slowly but surely, I was losing myself in a torturous nightmare I would never be able to wake from.
Chapter 4
Reese
After raiding Jett’s house for everything that could be remotely useful in our rescue mission—guns, ammo, rope, flashlights, water, binoculars, bolt cutters, and pliers—we made our way to the second address on the map.
Sitting in the front seat of my truck, sipping coffee, we watched the understated home off in the distance.
Bear and King were at the ready, waiting for our signal if we were able to find anything.
There was an old Cadillac parked in the driveway and no movement in the house.
“Do you think we got the right place?” Maccon asked as he squinted through the tinted windshield.
“I fucking hope so.” I had the binoculars trained on the front door, hoping to see something, but after an hour of nothing, I was starting to feel disheartened.
“Do we even know what this Katherine chick looks like now?”
“You saw her picture in the newspaper clippings. I’m assuming she looks like that, just a little older.”
He let out a forced sigh. “I really hope we got this right and find this fucking girl. I can’t imagine being held captive for nearly a decade. That’s some twisted-ass fucking shit.”
Just as I was about to reply, the front door swung open and the guy from the polaroid trotted down the front steps in a suit and tie.
“Holy fucking shit, dude. Are you seeing this?” I pointed.
“No fucking way.” Maccon gasped as the piece of shit got into his crappy car and started to back out of the driveway.
“Should we call Bear?” I asked, tossing the binoculars onto the dash.
Maccon undid his seatbelt. “There isn’t time. We have no idea how long that guy’s going to be gone for, and there could be a girl in there waiting to be rescued.”
“What if there is someone inside keeping watch?” I wasn’t scared; I was just trying to cover all the bases. Usually, it was Maccon who was talking me off the impulsive ledge, so it was weird to have the shoe on the other foot for once.
“I say fuck it and take our chances. Anyone who gets in our way will have hell to pay,” he growled.
That was it. I didn’t need any more of a green light. We had already come this far—might as well just dive in head first.
We rushed for the house on foot, all of our provisions slung over our shoulders in duffle bags. With my Springfield XD-S trained on the back door, Maccon broke out the single pane glass and unlocked it.
“Here goes nothing,” he whispered as the door slowly opened.
We checked every room in the house in complete silence. The kitchen was dated but spotless. The two bedrooms felt like no one lived in them, and the one bathroom smelled like bleach and looked as if you could eat off the floor. There weren’t even clothes in the closets or a towel in sight, not one speck of dirt or stray dust bunny in a corner. The house was immaculate. All of the furniture was dated but not worn out at all. It felt like I was scoping out a well-preserved time capsule, not a sociopath’s hideout.
Of course it wasn’t going to be this easy.
My jaw churned as I followed Maccon back out of the house.
“What the fuck,” I growled, kicking at a small rock on the ground.
Maccon’s wide shoulders sagged as he leaned against the wood siding. “I’m sorry, man. We tried.”
“Not hard enough.”
As Maccon moved a little, I noticed a small window next to his foot.
“Did you see a basement door?” I asked.