Come Back for You: Boys of Alabama

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Come Back for You: Boys of Alabama Page 12

by Mica Halstead


  I roll over on the couch and am met with a wet nose. Ranger lets out a pathetic wine, making it known that he has to go out. I drag myself off the couch with a groan, letting him out to do his business, and go about starting a pot of coffee. Gonna need an entire truck load to get through this day.

  The clock on the stove tells me it’s eleven in the morning. Going in search of my phone once I’ve let Ranger back in, it’s still in my jeans from last night. It doesn’t light up so it must be dead. Once it’s plugged in, I hop in the shower, hoping it will make me feel at least halfway human. I’m toweling off when I hear my phone dinging from the nightstand where I put it. Notification after notification blowing my phone up. What the fuck.

  Group message between Ford, Jax, and me -

  Ford: Dude. What the fuck did you do?

  Jax: Me? Uh… nothing. Why?

  Ford: Not you, dumbass. Dean. But you sound defensive. We’ll circle back to that.

  Jax: Bite me. What did Dean do this time? Skip town again?

  Ford: ::cat laughing emoji:: Not yet. But Lex got a call from Whitley last night, something about walking home from Dean’s because he’s, and I quote, “a piece of shit who broke her heart twice.”

  Jax: Ouch.

  Jax: Also, walking home. What the fuck, Dean?

  I roll my eyes and fire off a text.

  Dean: I tried to take her home, she refused. We had an argument. It happens. She’ll come around.

  Not sure who I’m trying to convince, them or myself. I scroll through the rest of my notifications. Missed call from ma, some emails, and a missed call from Dave, one of my kitchen guys. I hit recall and put him on speaker as I pull clothes out of my dresser.

  “Hey-yo boss man,” he comes through the speaker and I roll my eyes. Dude is such a stoner, always high. But he does a bang up job in the kitchen so I let it slide.

  “What’s up?” I’m buttoning my jeans when he answers.

  “Can you come unlock the bar? Doors are still locked and Jim-Billy ain’t happy that his ass isn’t in a stool with a beer in front of him.” My body locks up tight.

  “Where’s Whitley?” She opens the bar every day at eleven on the dot. She’s never late.

  “No clue, boss man. But the doors are locked. Been callin’ her for the last half hour, no answer.” He says and something doesn’t feel right. I’m grabbing my truck keys, snagging my phone off the charger, and I’m halfway down the stairs before I realize Dave’s still on the phone.

  “Boss? You there? What should I do?”

  “Tell everyone we’re closed for the day. I’m gonna see if I can find her,” Ending the call, I shoot a text to Ford, asking if Lex has heard from Whitley since last night. Dread fills me as I fire up the truck and tear out of the driveway.

  Whitley

  Something’s not right, is the first thought I have as I come to. Blinking my eyes open, there’s a beige wall in front of me and a small nightstand with a lamp on it sittin’ between the wall and the bed. Trying to remember where I’m at or what I was doing, but everything’s foggy. I’m not sure how I got here. I go to wipe the sleep from my eyes, but I can’t. My arms are chained to the bed posts. What the hell?

  Yanking on them, the metal bites at my skin and tears spring to my eyes.

  “Help!” I shout, voice bouncing off the walls. I struggle, trying to free my hands, but it’s no use. Calm down, I tell myself, slowing my breathing like my therapist taught me all those years ago. Taking a breath, I count to ten and take in my surroundings. No windows on any of the walls, one door. Breathe. A toilet sits in the far-right corner of the room, a small pedestal sink next to it. The room is bare, aside from the bed and nightstand. Oh my god.

  Think, Whitley. Think. I try to remember what happened last night. We went to the Christmas party. Dean and I were arguing when we got home. My memory starts to come back, little snippets here and there. Us, getting dropped off by Zander. Dean and I arguing in the kitchen. The phone call I made to Lex. She was gonna come and pick me up after I left Deans on foot. Why didn’t I let her? More tears spring to my eyes.

  I hear footsteps approaching outside the door. Scrambling into a sitting position, the knob turns just before he appears in the doorway.

  “Hey beautiful,” he says, giving me a smile, and suddenly I remember.

  Thunder booms in the distance, echoing through the silence of the dark night. Leaves crunch under my feet as I make the walk down Shoops Lane. I sigh, cursing myself for being so dang stubborn and insisting Dean let me walk. Just what I need is a thunderstorm to top this already awful night.

  Lightning cracks, illuminating the sky in the distance. Shit. I fire off a text to Lex, seeing if she can come get me, and my phone rings almost instantly.

  “Hey,” I sigh into the phone.

  “What the hell do you mean you’re walking home from Deans? It’s one in the morning!” Lex shouts into the phone and I can hear Ford murmuring in the background. She giggles and shushes him.

  “He’s a piece of shit who broke my heart twice. We had a huge fight and I stormed off,” I say as headlights illuminate the road coming at me. I move a little further off to the side and stop walking. This road is barely one lane and it’s pitch black out.

  “I’m coming right now, send me your location,” she says, the car coming at me starting to slow down.

  “Hang on, don’t hang up. Please,” I beg as the car comes to a stop, an older Honda with tinted windows so dark I can’t see in. The window on the driver’s side rolls down just as the sky lets loose, the storm dropping buckets of rain.

  “Whitley, what the hell are you doing?” The driver shouts and oh, thank god.

  “Lex don’t worry about it,” I breathe a sigh of relief. Talk about the right place at the right time. I haven’t seen much of Kolby at work since the incident with that girl, Corrine, but man am I glad to see him right now.

  “Who is that?” She asks as I run around the front of the car and climb in.

  “It’s Kolby, I’m gonna have him take me home. I’ll call you tomorrow, k?” I end the call and throw myself into the car as the rain starts coming down in sheets.

  “Holy shit, I’m so glad to see you,” I laugh, wringing the water out of my hair before belting myself in.

  “What are you doing walking out here at night? It’s late, Whit. Bad things happen late at night,” he says, eyes straight ahead, staring out at the road. A feeling that I can’t quite put my finger on niggles in the back of my mind.

  “Uh, sure. Do you mind runnin’ me home?” He looks at me before focusing back to the road, shifting gears as he steers us away from the side of the road. “Do you need my address?” I ask as my phone pings with an incoming text.

  Lex: Call me first thing tomorrow. Don’t let one fight ruin this good thing you and Dean have going. Love ya.

  Heaving a sigh, I drop my phone in my purse and glance out the windshield.

  “Man, this storm is really somethin’,” the car slows and turns down a side road. I glance over my shoulder out the back window.

  “This isn’t the way to my house,” I point out, glancing at Kolby, his focus still on the road, paying me no mind. “Kolby, do you need my address?”

  “No.”

  I laugh a little, confusion written all over my face. “Okay, but you’re goin’ the wrong way,” unease starts settling over me as he presses on the accelerator.

  “You couldn’t just mind your business,” he says, the words coming out quiet. My heart beats a little faster. Something’s not right. His hands flex on the wheel, knuckles turning white as he grips it.

  “Been watchin’ you with him.” He goes on and my body turns to steel, shivers running down my spine. “Things were fine, even after you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. Until you fucked him like some whore in his office for the entire bar to hear.”

  “It was you that trashed my car,” I whisper, dread filling me up inside, causing my stomach to sour.

  “Do you l
ike knowin’ that everyone could hear you screamin’ his fucking name?” He grits out, taking the corner to sharp, the car fishtailing, causing me to scream.

  “N-n-no, no. ‘Course not. C-could you please slow down, though? It’s gettin’ really bad out.” I beg, fear gripping me.

  “Why couldn’t you just be a good girl, Whitley? Instead, you went and gave it up to fucking Dean,” he spits his name out, his words laced with venom. The rain is coming down even harder now, falling in buckets. I can’t see out the windshield even a foot in front of us.

  “I’m so s-sorry.” He shakes his head, and I can feel the hate and anger vibrating off him. He presses on the break, taking the turn from Route 123 to Road Z, and I take the chance with the slow rate of speed, flinging the passenger door open and hurling myself from the moving car. I tuck my body in and let out a cry as I hit the ground, gravel scraping at my legs that are bare in this dress.

  I scramble to my feet, breaking off in a sprint through the woods in front of me, a car door slamming behind me in the distance. My heart beats faster as I shove through the thick branches, the wet ground causing me to lose my footing. I stumble and right myself, pushing harder, the eerie darkness all around me, so dark I can’t see in front of me. I cry out as a branch smacks me in the face, but I don’t dare slow down. I can hear Kolby behind me, gaining on me. Turning left, I disappear behind a huge tree, my chest heaving. Reaching up to my cheek, I can feel the blood oozing out of it where the branch caught me. Shaky breaths escaping me, I’m stock still. Maybe if I just wait here a minute, he’ll go on lookin’ for me.

  CRACK!

  The punch to my face blindsides me, knocking me to the ground. I cry out, landing on my hands and knees. I start to crawl away, but Kolby grabs my foot, flipping me over. Roughly gripping my leg, he pulls me towards him.

  “Shouldn’t have ran, Whit,” is the last thing I hear before he punches me in the face again and everything goes dark.

  The heavy door shuts behind him and he stuffs his hands in his pockets, his eyes roaming all over me.

  “What the fuck, Kolby?” I snap, yanking on the chains restraining me.

  “Ah, yeah. Sorry, about all that last night. You made that a lot harder than it needed to be.”

  “Well shit, my apologies. Didn’t know there was a kidnappin’ on the agenda or I would have behaved myself.” He guffaws.

  “You’re so funny. One of the things I love most about ya,” he makes his way towards me, producing a set of keys from his pocket along with what looks like a needle. “Now, I’ll unlock you, but if you even think about tryin’ to get away, this here is a dose of heroin and fentanyl and it’s probably enough to kill you. So, you’ll be a good girl, right?” Panic seizes me, my heart thudding in my chest. I shake my head.

  “I promise, I won’t do anything,” my hands shake as he reaches for my wrists and unlocks each restraint. Once free, I scramble to sit up, back against the wall. I rub my wrists from where the metal was cutting into them and he tips his head at me and sighs.

  “I’m sorry I hit you. Does it hurt?” He reaches a hand towards me and I automatically flinch. Kolby narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not going to hit you again. I only did last night because I needed to get you back to the car without a fight.” My stomach churns.

  “Why are you doing this?” The question pops out of my mouth. “I thought we were friends.” His face turns to stone.

  “Friends? Fuck being friends, Whitley. Everything was going great until fucking Dean showed back up in town. He brainwashed you! He could never love you as much as I do.,” he stands abruptly and starts pacing in front of the bed. “He brought you to work, he brought you home. He stayed while you were working. We never had any alone time anymore. I’d sit outside your apartment, the lights always off. Because you were always at his house. No more of that shit though, I solved that problem.”

  A sob slips out of my mouth, “what did you do to him?! If you hurt him, I swear to god I will kill you,” I lunge at him and he backhands me, slapping me across the face. Dropping back down on the bed, I press my hand to my cheek, tears spilling from my eyes.

  “I said to be a good girl, Whitley. Why the fuck can’t you just listen?!” He storms towards me, pulling the needle from his pocket.

  “Please no,” I scream, shoving his hand away, clawing at him. My nails connect with flesh, scratching and he yelps in pain, fighting with me until he’s on top of me, pinning my wrists down with his knees. He uncaps the needle and jabs it into my neck. There’s a pinch and then a burn. He sits on me, waitin’ for the drugs to take over. The whole room starts to go fuzzy, my skin itchy. I barely notice when Kolby finally climbs off me. The room’s so warm, my body floating in and out of consciousness. My last thoughts are of Everly, Dean, and how much I love them both.

  Dean

  12 hours ago

  “Open the goddamn door, Whit!” Pounding on the door again, I drop my forehead against it and kick the frame with my boot. I’ve been knocking for five minutes, why isn’t she answering?

  “Excuse me,” comes a voice to my right and I glance over. It’s one of her neighbors, little old lady, probably in her eighties. “You’re wasting your time, sonny. She didn’t come home last night. I s’pose she’s probably with that boyfriend of hers.”

  “You’re sure she never came home?” I ask, pulling my wallet from my pocket.

  “I’m sure. I hear everything that goes on ‘round here. Walls are so thin. Don’t help that I’m nosy, too. But she never came home.” She goes on, and I pull a business card out of my wallet with my phone number on it, handing it to her.

  “She comes home, you call me right away.” She nods her head and shuffles back into her apartment.

  Back in my truck, I dial the police department and the call rings over my Bluetooth. The secretary doesn’t even have time to say her spiel before I cut her off.

  “Jensen, now,” I bite out, tearing out of the parking lot of the apartment building.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. He’s not on shift today. Would you like to talk to another officer?” She asks, her voice annoyingly sweet.

  “I don’t give a shit if he’s not on shift today, put me through to his cell.”

  “Uh, I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that.” I’ve had about enough of this shit.

  “Listen, this is Dean Anderson. My girlfriend, Whitley, she’s missing. I can’t find her, no one has seen or heard from her since last night. I need to talk to Officer Jensen and I need to talk to him NOW!” The phone cuts off before it starts ringing again, Jensen eventually answering.

  “This better be good, Chantelle,” his voice comes across the line.

  “Not Chantelle, it’s Dean. I need you,” I grit out, careening into Ford’s driveway and putting the truck in park. “Long story short, Whit and I had a massive fight last night and she left on foot. I can’t find her, no one’s seen her,” my voice cracks, emotion clogging my throat. If anything happens to her, I’ll never be able to forgive myself. I can hear rustling on the other end of the line and a car door slam.

  “Shit, okay. Where did you last see her?” His car starts up and I can hear him peel out of the driveway.

  “My house, she got mad and stormed off, said not to follow her and that she was walkin’ home,” I go on, explain the situation and letting him know I’m at Fords and he hangs up, letting me know he’ll be there in a minute. Bounding up the porch steps, I wrap my knuckles on the door. Lex answers, surprise written all over her face.

  “Dean, hey. Come in,” she says, and I stride past her, scrubbing my hand over my face.

  “Ford said you talked to Whit last night, right?”

  “Yeah, around midnight. She said y’all had an argument and she left on foot. Why, what’s up?”

  “No one has heard from her since, Lex,” my stomach churns, none of this making sense. She wouldn’t just get upset and disappear, there’s no way. The bar means too much to her. I mean too much to her. Lex’s jaw drops.
/>   “Oh my god! What can I do to help?” She slides her feet into her shoes, going on, “what did Kolby say?” I grab her wrist and stop her from running out the front door.

  “What do you mean, what did Kolby say?” I ask, my voice low.

  “He’s the one that picked her up, Dean.” Every muscle in my body tenses.

  “What? When did he pick her up?”

  “Last night, right after she called me. I was going to go get her, but she said not to worry about it, that Kolby was there, and she’d have him drive her home.” A knock on the door has us both jumping, I prowl towards it and find Jensen on the other side. His eyes flick between the two of us, his face just as distraught as mine.

  “Call the station. Now. Tell them to run everything they have on a Kolby Stenson.” I order him and his face lights up with surprise.

  “Yeah of course,” he dials up the station while I call Avery. She’s got a spare set of keys to the bar and I let her know to pull the file we have on Kolby and send me his address. Dropping down on their couch, I drop my head into my hands, elbows propped up on my knees. Kolby picked her up. Why wouldn’t he take her home? Lex drops down next to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, resting her head there. We sit like that for a long few minutes when the front door bursts open, Jensen followed by Ford's brother, Zander.

  “I need you to take some deep breaths, Anderson,” Derrick starts, and I narrow my eyes at him, “right, didn’t think so. I had one of the guys at the precinct run that name. Nothing. Dude’s a ghost. My guess, it’s an alias.” Something close to a growl rattles in my chest.

  “What do you mean, a fuckin’ alias? You’re tellin’ me you don’t have anything on him?” I ground out, livid that Fred hired this dude without running a background check on him.

 

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