Chapter 23: Chapter 23

Chapter 23 Bullet

Ace's POV:

Anger slithers through my veins like some sort of viper, ready to strike.

Dakota is gone with no trace.

It's been three days and we are not any closer to figuring this out, and I'm becoming anxious.

Each search brings disappointment, each phone call is useless. Nothing is coming together, nothing is giving any hope. Dakota has simply disappeared with no trace.

And I'm becoming desperate.

Everything I care about always gets taken away from me.

Why is life like this?

Why must everyone seek to destroy the people I care about?

But then I smile.

I smile because of the blood that will be spilled.

I smile because of the revenge that is sure to take place.

Blood will be spilled, and I will make sure that it isn't Dakota's.

* * *

"Have you found anything yet?" I ask Jeremy.

"Negative, sir." Replies Jeremy.

I run my fingers though my hair in frustration for what must be the millionth time today. All my men are on the job, doing their best to find Dakota. I have Kaleb hacking into security systems, I have some men out searching for her, while others question suspects.

All of the efforts have turned up negative, and it seems hopeless.

However, it's like a process of elimination. The more we look and the more area we cover, the closer we are to figuring this ordeal out.

But despite all the expert help I am receiving, my chest feels heavy....it's like I actually have a heart.

The house seems empty and different.

It is no longer filled with the girl's laughter. Katelin no longer cooks her mac and cheese with enthusiasm. She prefers to mindlessly stare out the window and wrap herself up in the covers of her bed.

The puppy, Duma, no longer runs around playfully in the yard; rather, he sits in his little dog house all day with a depressed look in his eyes. He doesn't sleep, he just lays there, his eyes looking dull.

Nothing is the same.

And as I lie my head down on the pillow that night, I can't sleep.

How can one possibly sleep when someone they've.....grown to care for is missing and possibly suffering?

Since Dakota went missing, I've been getting practically no sleep. My mind and heart won't allow it, and it's miserable.

It's miserable being hopelessly exhausted all the day long. It's miserable lying awake at night and gazing at the lonely moon that sits in the sky. It's miserable coming home to a dead house and watching the dull look in the puppy's eyes. It's miserable being away from the one person I care about who's not related to me.

The unknown drives me to insanity.

The what ifs plague my mind.

What if she's already dead?

What if you never find her?

What if she's ran away?

I twist my fingers through my hair, begging those thoughts to stop. Pleading to the heavens to just shut those thoughts down.

Make it stop!

But they don't.

And so, I'm not surprised when my fist drives a hole right into the nearby wall next to the bed. I let out a growl of frustration as I pull my fist back in pain.

The skin has been broken and a little blood seeps from the wound and drips down my hands.

It hurts, but nothing can match the pain in my chest....my heart.

But yet, despite the physical pain, I don't stop.

I reign my frustration down onto the room. Everything turns red as my emotions....no, anger, takes over. I punch the wall a few more times, and the Sheetrock crumbles around me as the hole becomes larger. I clench my teeth as I throw a chair across the room, and for a moment, I feel better.

But when reality hits me hard once more, I become aware of the animal I have become.

My breathing is loud and my heart thumps like a drum in my ears, and then I can't take it.

I fall to the ground with my back resting against the part of the undamaged wall. I cage my head in between my knees and dig my fingers into my hair.

Can't life just give me a break? Don't I deserve to enjoy life, too? Why must everything get taken away from me? First my childhood, then my friends, then my family, and now Dakota. It seems everything I touch turns to ashes.

The door suddenly swings open, and it loudly smacks against the wall as Katelin steps through. She just stands there for a moment, breathing hard. Her eyes goes to the damage I've done, then down to the pathetic heap on the floor.

She doesn't say a word as she collapses next to me.

"Ace!"

She holds my injured knuckles in my hands and examines them for a moment, before helping me up.

"Come on, Ace. Let's get you cleaned up." Katelin says quietly. Her voice sounds forced and tired, as if she's been crying.

I'm not the only one who lost someone.

Katelin lost a good friend, and it's effecting me the same way it's effecting her.

And so, she helps me up off the floor, where she takes me to the bathroom. And like she has done many times when I stumbled through the front door with bullet wounds and stab wounds, she cleans me of my blood and disinfectants my wounds.

We are family.

When I fall, she picks me up.

When she falls, I carry her home.

This life is something we all have to face, so why not head into it like a brave warrior?

For when we are weak, we are strong.

* * *

The next day dawns, and I arise early.

I've decided that I can't lose myself to my emotions again.

I need to keep my mind sharp for her. I can't let my emotions block my mind and make me become illogical, because that will get me nowhere, and I need to spend every time in investing in Dakota's safe return.

I make a list and Kaleb gives me the pictures of every suspect I've asked for. One by one, I narrow them down by process of elimination.

But I just feel like I'm missing something. Missing some sort of information that has been pushed aside and forgotten about.

Think Ace, think.

I comb through my mind in a desperate search for something, anything.

I furrow my eyebrows and grip at my hair as I squeeze my eyes shut.

Who was that weird kid that would hang out with Dakota....think Ace.

In my memory, the kid with black hair flashes through my mind like a flash of lightening. His eyes....his strange purple eyes seems to glow in the dark part of my mind. His smirk stands out to me as he digs his hands into his front pockets. He leans against a tree casually as he chats with Dakota.

What's his name....his name....

Matthew.....Micah....Mason....

And no, no, and no.....

Mark! His name is Mark!

With that piece of remembrance, I shoot up from my desk chair and sprint to Kaleb's office.

"Kaleb!" I pant, trying to catch my breath.

Kaleb spins around in his office chair, and pushes his square glasses back up his nose. His wild, brown curly hair hangs in his face.

"What is it, Boss?" He asks.

"I need you to find somebody. His name is Mark."

Kaleb spins back around on his chair, his back now towards me as his fingers fly over the keyboard.

"Last name?"

"No last name....I just know he goes to Dakota's school." I reply.

"Alright, I will do my best. I can just hack into the school's enrollment records, and hopefully I will find what you're looking for." Says Kaleb.

"How long with this all take?"

"Maybe two days. It takes a lot of work to hack and go through all the data." Kaleb tells me.

"Two days? Two whole days? That could be too late by then!"

"I-I know Boss. But it's the quickest way possible....I'm trying my best." Kaleb replies, growing a little timid.

I take a deep breath.

He's right.

This is the quickest way possible, and I cannot let my emotions control me.

"Thank you Kaleb for your services. Let me know when you've found something." I say, turning to leave his office.

"You're welcome. And...I want to let you know that this case is personal to me. I think we've all grown close to Dakota, and so I will find this guy for you." Says Kaleb.

"Thanks." I reply sadly. "But I must get going now."

And with that, I turn on my heel and leave his office.

Anxiousness grabs a hold of my heart and uncertainty eats away at my mind, but I will solve this.

I have to.

* * *

Dakota's POV:

It's just another sleepless night.

A sleepless night filled with night terrors that I'm forced to face alone in the dark.

The icy fingers of my trauma caress my exhausted mind as I shiver in fear alone. My body is wrapped in the blanket of darkness that has settled over the prison cells. Strange sounds keep me up at night, and the stone cold floor gives my body an achy chill that I can't seem to get rid of.

I toss and turn on the floor, but sigh in defeat.

The floor is far too cold and my body is already far too sore from endless nights of attempted slumber here.

So, I sit up and curl my body into the corner, and I lean my head back so it rests on the wall. My eyes meet with the ceiling. The ceiling is cracked and lets the tiny shimmer of moonlight tickle my features.

I release a breath, and a cloudy mist develops in the air. It is nothing more than a vapor, and soon disappears almost instantly after it was released. The clothes I'm wearing aren't made for this type of cold weather.

I'm wearing black sweat pants and a thin grey hoodie I was given by the prison guards. My feet are bare, and feel as if they could freeze off. Everything about my life is miserable as of now.

I've been kidnapped.

I'm freezing.

I'm sore and my head wound aches.

I'm hungry and thirsty.

I'm now involved in the Mafia.

But perhaps, worst of all, is the shock of finding out my mom is alive.

Did she leave me by choice? Does she not care for me nor love me? These are questions I don't quite have the answer for. Maybe I shouldn't have blown up on her like that....but I just couldn't help it.

I pull the hoodie over my head more and shiver in the cold.

I miss the warmth.

I even miss Ace.

It's so strange to me....to miss a man. I'd never believe it if you'd told me that I'd ever like a guy.

But I guess you don't really know what you've got until you've lost it all.

And for me, I've lost it all again.

I stay awake for sometime longer, pondering about the things that I am faced with.

But soon, exhaustion envelops me into an icy hug, and I doze off into a thankfully dreamless sleep this time.

But all too soon, the clatter of a plate colliding with the floor awakes me from my much needed sleep.

I look up at him from the floor, and he just glares down at me.

"Eat your food." Mark says, his dull voice ringing through the air, "I'll be back for you later, and I expect that food to be eaten, got it?"

I just slowly nod my head, and Mark just rolls his eyes before locking the cell door behind him.

I look at the food. It consists of a piece of bread, a small, bruised apple, and a cup of water. For a moment, I wonder whether or not I should it it. It could be drugged; but then again, I need my strength....I need my strength for escape.

Yes, escape....

And so, with those thoughts, I hesitantly eat the food. It doesn't taste to great, but it's better than nothing.

As I eat, I look around.

The metal bars that cage the small window of my cell look pretty loose and old. Nobody probably tries to escape anyway, since this place is heavily guarded with dogs, barbed wire, weapons, and guards.

A surge of adrenaline rushes through my veins, and soon my body seems to float to the barred window to plot my escape plan.

The entire place seems to be decorated in barbed wire and tall fences, but I'd rather take my chances than to sit here like some kind of cow waiting to be slaughtered.

The cell wasn't too high off the ground, so I didn't have to worry about hurting myself when I jump through the window. So, with a few swift, hard kicks, the old bars creek and break right off the foundation that once held them down. Wasting no time at all, I jump through the open window and land on my feet.

Once my feet touch the ground, a loud alarm booms though my ears. As I run, it feels as if it is World War two, and I'm nothing more than a civilian trying to find safety in the midst of a bombing attack.

If I can make it over the chain-linked fence, then maybe I would have a better chance at escape.

With that goal in mind, I give it all I got. The alarms deafen me and my lungs burn for oxygen. But my body is on survival mode as it weaves through branches and bushes that have made itself visible in the prison-like courtyard.

Sweat drips in my eyes, and I squint in an attempt to get rid of the burning sensation. The chain-link fence is getting closer and closer.

Almost there!

Shots rings through the air and dust clouds are formed in front of me by the raging bullets. I cry out in pain when one skims my shoulder. I feel a heat seep from the wound, but I'm so hyped up on adrenaline, I don't even slow down.

I throw myself onto the chain-link fence, and latch on as if my life depends on it. I weave my fingers through the gaps in the fence, and use my upper body strength to pull me over. Each agonizing moment, I inch myself closer and closer to freedom.

And so when I finally throw myself over the other side of the fence, I'm free.

Or so I thought.

Because when I start to run and glance around, I notice that more fences surround the place. It's just another courtyard, and I'm trapped in by concrete walls.

I scream and frustration, and then proceed to pace the walls like some sort of caged animal.

No!

There's...there's got to be something more!

Guards gather around the fences, and I panic as they flood the courtyard I'm trapped in. The alarms have stopped, and the guards gather around with their weapons pointed at me. Why they haven't fired yet is beyond me....maybe they like to watch their prey suffering in the confines of hell.

I pant harshly and desperation seeps in.

But then my eyes zero in on an old, crumpled ladder that runs up the side of the wall. My fingers, which are cut up from crawling up the chain link fence, grip the ladder. My bare feet are sore and bruised, and my body is pushed to the point of giving up.

But I can't give up.

I can't give in.

And just as I reach the top of the wall, a shot rings out.

This shot isn't like any of the others.

Sure, it sounds like the others, and rings through my ears and echos through the lands just like the others, but it's not.

Because unlike the others, this one hit me.

The force sends me smacking into the wall painfully. My fingers refuse to unlatch their grip from the latter handles, and for a moment, I am frozen in my spot. It's getting harder to breathe, and a growing burning sensation spreads through my body.

I feel warmth leak down my back, and my mind seems to daze off as shock takes over my senses. The shouts of the nearing guards no longer bother me, and my ears ring painfully. My breathing sounds hollow as things around me seem to move in slow motion.

It sounds as if I'm underwater.

It feels as if I'm under water.

I can't breath, and suddenly, my fingers become undone, causing me to collide with the dusty ground beneath me. I land on my back, and let out an ear-splitting scream. I had landed on my bullet wound, and now everything is becoming unbearable.

I writhe around in the dirt in my own blood for a few seconds as guards come rushing over me. My eyes dart to each of their faces, until I spot one that I do recognize.

"M-mom..." I cough out.

But I don't hear what she she says. I see her lips moving, but no sound is heard. Everything around me darkens, and it's then that I stop moving.

I stare up at the fading blue sky in shock at the realization that I might be dying.

And when I do look over at my mom again, I catch the words she mouths to me.

"I love you."

I inwardly scoff.

I finally got what I wanted from my mom, and that is love.

But how bitter is it that I finally get what I want as I'm taking my last breath.