Breaking Jacob (2nd in Breaking Series)

Chapter Fifteen

Nick shook his head and shot a fearful glance over his shoulder, "Otis ain't here and I can't let you in without his permission."

"Nick, please. I really need to find Liza. Where is she?" Ellie pleaded.

"I ain't telling you nothing. Otis'll kill me, Ellie. He don't like me like he does you. I can't get away with the kind of shit that you pull."

"Nick..."

"No," he repeated.

Brody blew out an impatient breath, pulled his revolver, cocked it and pressed it against the boy's forehead, all within the blink of an eye, "Let us in and tell us where the girl is," he ordered calmly.

Ellie couldn't believe her eyes or her ears. Brody's gun was pressed against Nick's now sweaty forehead. Nick was quite literally shaking in his shoes but Brody looked as calm as if he was ordering lunch in a fancy café.

"Okay! Okay!" Nick held his hands up, "You can come in. But I don't know where Otis is. He left out this morning. And I don't know where Liza is neither." Nick's voice shook, "Now can you get the gun out of my face?" Brody shrugged and holstered his revolver.

"Jesus, Brody! Don't you think that was a bit of an overreaction?" Jacob demanded.

Brody shook his head, "Nope, an overreaction would have been pulling the trigger."

Nick ran back into the house, probably to get away from the crazy man with a gun and Ellie led Jacob and Brody inside. It was dark and it was dirty. Voices filled the air. Most of them sounded young.

"It's like his own personal army of thieves," Jacob muttered, glancing all around and catching the occasional glimpse of children and young adults watching them from the shadows.

"Yes. He finds orphans or abandoned children and he teaches them how to steal. Some aren't any good at stealing and out of those the girls are sent to the saloon and the boys are taught to kill. You never know when someone will need a hired killer and Otis wants to make sure he always has some on his payroll."

"Better be watching our backs then," Jacob urged. Brody moved to the back of the line so that any bullets fired from behind would hit him instead of his brother or Ellie.

Ellie walked down a long hall and then into a small room. Jacob frowned. Was this her room? The bed was dirty, lumpy and barely big enough for a grown person. The walls were covered in faded and peeling paint and floral wall paper. The floors were hardwood and covered in deep scars. There were three wardrobes that seemed to be on their last leg and a stack of books covered the end table.

There were no personal touches except for a small framed picture on the washstand. He walked over and picked it up. There was a man in the picture who looked like Ellie. He had pale skin, black hair with the same softness to his cheeks that Ellie had. The woman was darker skinned and lighter haired and she had features that seemed almost exotic. The girl standing between them could only be a younger Ellie. She hadn't changed much since this picture was taken, and it didn't appear that she'd grown an inch. There was a young child sitting on the mothers knee. She had the lighter hair like her mother and the same looks as her mother had.

"That's my family," Ellie whispered from beside him. "It's the only picture I have. Otis got it for me."

"We'll take it with us then," he replied.

Ellie smiled and laid her hand on his arm before turning back to look around the room, "I don't know what I thought I would find in here. I should have known he wouldn't keep Liza in my room."