Page 25 of Pitbull
“Bingo. I’m hoping it or her is still there,” Pitbull said. He glanced over his shoulder before signaling and making a right turn. The adrenaline of getting that info from Tex was wearing off and the dread of what this all meant dawned on him. Since leaving home ten years before, he hadn’t gone back. Sure, at the beginning when the academy became impossible to survive, he thought of going home. But what would he be going back to?
When he drew to a stop, the old house stood in the darkness like a massive monstrosity. It reminded him of the lowest moments in his life. The moments he was the most alone, the nights he would crawl into his parents’ bed and cried himself to sleep. A regular occurrence—every time he remembered that he’d enter the kitchen and his mother wouldn’t be there humming off key to some American pop song she’d heard one too many times. Then he’d think of running to his father who would be on some call or the other with some far off nation Pitbull could barely pronounce.
Then suddenly, he didn’t have either of those places to hide in
He eased the truck to a stop and killed the engine. He watched the house silently. It was dark. There was never a time it looked so sterile and dead. When his parents had been a live there were flowers all over the front. His mother was particular to roses and his father liked sunflowers. They planted them side by side, talking softly and stealing kisses when they thought the kids hadn’t been looking.
Afterward, the house was filled with Claudia’s music and then all it was filled with was silence. At nights he’d lay alone in his bed, staring up at the darkened ceiling, wondering where Claudia was and vowing he was done. But in the wee hours of the morning before school, he’d be up, driving around, trying to find her.
He pulled his key out and sighed.
“Wait—you own this house?” Anke asked.
“Yes. After the fire, even though I wouldn’t be living here, I had it repaired so Claudia would have a place to go. She moved out soon after but I kept paying the taxes on it. I don’t have the heart to get rid of it. I guess I always thought she’d come back to it.”
He checked his weapon and reached for the door handle. Anke did the same and though he wanted to tell her to stay behind, he knew with him was the safest place she could be. Silently, they made their way across the front law but before he could put his key in, he realized the door was unlocked. Pitbull pulled his large frame before Anke’s and undid the safety strap on his holster.
“What—”
“Shhh.”
Using the toe of his boot, Pitbull slowly eased the door open. He made his way through the front corridor as though he’d never left. He kept track of Anke behind him with her breathing. At one point he stopped and she crashed into his back. Her softness made him bite back a moan. Before he could check to see if she was okay, a dark figure darted from the staircase and headed for the back door.
“Stop!Polizei!” He called, reaching for his gun. “Hey! Stop!”
Pitbull took off running, hearing Anke’s hurried footsteps behind him. As he neared the first set of doors, he reached behind it. Thankfully, Claudia hadn’t moved the baseball bat he kept there. He handed it to Anke but kept moving. She should be able to keep herself safe, just in case of anything.
At the back door, he switched on the outside lights and trained his gun. Pitbull made his way down the steps, stopping to search behind the water barrel his parents had kept when he was a child, under the house and in a small area of the woods behind the house. He then made his way around the house, checking the bushes and the broken down tree house. Minutes later, it was confirmed. Whoever had been in the house was nowhere to be found.
Irritated, he holstered his weapon and brought Anke back inside. She didn’t put the bat down and he couldn’t blame her. Together, they split up and searched the home. After a few minutes, Pitbull heard Anke calling him.
“Yeah?”
“You should come see this.”
Pitbull quirked a brow then hurried back to the kitchen where he found her opening closets and closing them.
“It looks like someone has been here recently,” Anke said.
“How do you know that?”
“The cups in the drainer are still damp and the food on the table is still warm.” Anke pointed out.
Pitbull tested them with a finger and agreed.
“Do you think the person we just chased was Claudia?”
“No. Claudia knows my voice,” Pitbull said, glancing around. “She may dislike me at the moment, but she wouldn’t run off. But she was here. There’s a sleeping bag in the sunroom upstairs. It’s the best place to be if someone comes up the stairs. Since it’s down, she could see them before they saw her—no one would know that if they weren’t familiar with the house.”
Anke flopped into a nearby chair and exhaled. “We missed her.”
“Don’t worry, Anke. We’ll find…” At that moment Pitbull dropped his hands into his pockets. In his right one, his fingers hit something small. When he pulled it out, he was stunned to realize he’d brought the cross with him. “Come. I have one more place I’d like to check.”
“What? Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Back in the trunk was another ten minutes before Pitbull eased the truck to a stop in front of a large church. It was the one their parents got married in, the church both Pitbull and his sister were christened in. The building held great significance to the Hunt family. After ensuring his coat was around his weapon, he stuck his badge down the front of his shirt and led Anke inside. The heavy doors creaked something horrible when he pulled one open by bracing his palm on the other.
