Chapter 7
The house was dark.
No lights on anywhere.
But I could hear voices.
Coming from the back.
I moved through the trees, staying low.
Staying quiet.
When I got closer, I could see them.
Three men.
Standing around a fire pit behind the house.
Ryan was one of them.
I didn't recognize the other two.
But they looked like professionals.
The kind of men who didn't ask questions.
The kind of men who killed for money.
And then I saw Evan.
He was sitting on the ground, tied to a tree.
His face was streaked with tears.
He was alive.
Thank God, he was alive.
I stayed hidden in the trees, watching.
Waiting for Tommy.
One of the men kicked at the fire.
"When's Webb getting here?"
"Soon," Ryan said. "He wants to handle the boy personally. And then we need to move the other one. The cop's brother. He's becoming too much of a liability."
My blood ran cold.
Daniel was here.
On this property.
"Where is he now?" the other man asked.
"In the old smokehouse. Locked up tight. Don't worry about him. He's not going anywhere."
The smokehouse.
It was a small building off to the side of the main house.
Daniel was in there.
My brother was only a hundred yards away.
I could get him.
I could free him.
But not with three armed men standing between us.
And not with Evan tied to that tree.
I needed to wait for Tommy.
We needed a plan.
But then Ryan stood up.
He walked over to Evan.
Grabbed him by the hair.
"Your little cop friend isn't coming to save you, you know. He's probably already dead. Or in jail. No one is going to help you."
Evan spit in his face.
Ryan laughed.
"Brave. Just like your real father. That's what got him killed, you know. Being too brave. Asking too many questions."
Evan's eyes filled with tears.
But he didn't look away.
"You're lying. Jake is going to come. He's going to save me. And he's going to save Daniel. And you're going to jail."
Ryan backhanded him.
Evan's head snapped to the side.
But he didn't cry out.
I almost lost it.
Almost ran out there, guns blazing.
But I knew I couldn't.
Not if I wanted to save both of them.
I forced myself to stay hidden.
To stay patient.
And then I heard it.
The sound of a truck approaching.
Tommy.
The men heard it too.
They stood up, hands on their guns.
"Who's that?"
"Probably Webb," Ryan said.
But it wasn't Webb.
Tommy's pickup truck came barreling down the driveway.
Lights blazing.
Engine roaring.
The men scattered.
Confused.
Disoriented.
It was the distraction I needed.
I stood up.
Aimed.
Fired.
The shot hit the ground next to Ryan's feet.
"Police! Everyone down!"
The men turned toward me.
Guns raised.
But Tommy was already out of his truck.
He fired two shots into the air.
"I said down!"
The men hesitated.
Outnumbered.
Outgunned.
And then one of them ran.
Into the woods.
The other one raised his gun.
Tommy fired.
The man went down.
Shot in the shoulder.
Ryan tried to run toward the house.
I tackled him.
We hit the ground hard.
He fought like a wild animal.
Punching.
Kicking.
But I had nine years of rage behind me.
Nine years of grief.
Nine years of wondering what had happened to my brother.
I hit him again and again.
Until he stopped fighting.
Until he lay still on the ground.
Tommy was there, pulling me off.
"Jake! That's enough! He's down!"
I stood up, breathing hard.
My knuckles were bleeding.
Ryan was unconscious.
I ran to Evan.
Pulled my knife.
Cut the ropes.
He threw his arms around me.
"Jake! You came!"
"I told you I would."
I held him tight.
He was safe.
For now.
"Tommy, watch him. I'm going to get Daniel."
Tommy nodded.
"Be careful. There might be more of them."
I ran toward the smokehouse.
The door was locked.
A heavy padlock.
I shot it off.
Pulled the door open.
The smell hit me first.
Mold.
Urine.
Despair.
And then I saw him.
Huddled in the corner.
Chained to the wall.
Thin.
Pale.
His hair long and matted.
But it was him.
It was Daniel.
He looked up at me.
Blinking against the light.
"Jake?"
His voice was hoarse.
Weak.
But it was his voice.
I dropped to my knees in front of him.
"Yeah, buddy. It's me. I'm here."
Tears streamed down his face.
"You found me. I knew you would."
I pulled him into my arms.
He was so thin.
So fragile.
But he was alive.
My brother was alive.
"I've got you," I said, crying into his shoulder. "I've got you now. You're safe. You're going home."
He held onto me like he was afraid I would disappear.
Like this was all a dream.
And maybe it was.
Maybe I would wake up tomorrow and find myself back in my empty apartment, Daniel still missing.
But for right now.
For this moment.
He was here.
May you like
He was real.
And I was never going to let him go again.
