Missing [ST]

Six

Seventh of March: Midnight

Steven was lying on top of his bed with one hand resting on his bare stomach, and the other twiddling with the silver locket that hung around his neck, close to his heart.

There was a buzz.

Then another.

It could only mean one thing, and he scrambled to his bag on the floor. He tossed out everything in the way, which made even more of a mess, until he had access to the inside pocket. It was unzipped like his life depended on it, and the screen of his burner revealed two messages from an unknown contact, the first giving an address like usual, but the second...

He never received two messages together.

Last move. You're on your own.

Steven went cold.

He had just been bailed on with no explanation, no warning, and by one of the few people he trusted.

It was anger he felt- betrayal- but he reigned it in for now, and Steven grabbed the pen that was also in the inside pocket to scribble down the address on his left forearm. He then slid the back off the burner, fished out the sim, broke it between his teeth and threw it into the bag along with the dead phone because they were no longer of use.

Step one was about the only thing he could settle on, and that was to get the hell out of this place tonight because the clean up crew would be there within the hour to carry out the classic arson cover-up.

Steven threw open bedroom doors, because knocking wasn't his thing, and told the guys to pack up their stuff before he rushed back to find something suitable to cover up his bare chest, and hastily lace up his boots.

Clothes were folded messily, drawers were emptied, and everything was packed up into kit bags or rucksacks. The house was well and truly alive and against the clock, but the boys were efficient having done this multiple times.

Steven was the first to bundle down the stairs with his stuff and he grabbed the car keys off the side and loaded up the back of the van. Joe came down next, with the others following close behind.

He hadn't forgotten about the girl. He might not have mentioned her, but he had been thinking about her. In fact, he was thinking about her at this very moment.

Sitting in the driver's seat with the door open, Steven had one knee up and was swinging the keys around his index finger, clasping them in his palm every so often. The devil chatted away on his shoulder, questioning this, questioning that, guilt tripping him into this, offering him impossible alternatives, but her...he just couldn't see a way to salvage what he had done.

Footsteps approaching, Steven caught the keys one final time, reached over the passenger side and popped open the glovebox. He grabbed something from its dark contents, and leaned out to snap his fingers at Joey and Tom, having done their final sweep

"Go get her," he ordered, and threw a bundled piece of fabric at them.

<>

Rushed movement somewhere above her, and the tumble of multiple footsteps down the stairs, had successfully got Leah's attention.

She had sat up in the dark, pulling her jacket tightly over her shoulders, and something told her it was better to be prepared.

She was right, and she wasn't alone for much longer.

It was hard to tell, but Leah was certain out of the two that rushed in, the one on the left was the tall blonde, but the man on the right remained a mystery. He was shorter in height, but clearly had a muscular build, and he wasn't the kind of guy that she wanted to be on the receiving end of his punch.