Page 73 of Found By Him

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 stepinto 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…disturbedfor 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.

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