(Abby Miller’s POV):

The Smith family home was surrounded by pastures, even now the occasional sound of cattle lowing in the distance filled the air. I had parked outside of the metal gate blocking access to their driveway, my feet walking over the grated cattle guard to hop over the metal gate. 

Pressing my feet against the dark green bottom tube of the gate I scaled the ice-cold metal until I was straddling the top of it with one leg on either side. Throwing my right leg over the gate I hopped down and was greeted by the crunch of gravel, my boots pressing into the loose stone. 

Looking up the hill where the white-painted farmhouse rested I saw the orange glow of the upstair bedroom’s light. The silhouette of a woman was waving at me from the window to get my attention. That was Elsie, the princess in the tower trying to escape the watchful eyes of her father, the evil king. When I had agreed to pick up Little Elsie I had no idea that it would be a daring rescue mission, but she had made it explicitly clear that under no circumstance could her father find out about this. 

So now I was walking up the incline of the hill, my feet stepping toward the edge of the drive to prevent myself from making loud crunching steps. Mr. Smith was definitely home, his red Ford Ranger was parked to the side of the house, and behind that was an old yellow school bus. He was a farmer first and foremost but by being a school bus driver he could earn a little extra money on the side. 

The downstairs lights were off except for the flood light illuminating his vehicles. I stuck to the edge of that light, and eventually veered off into the long grass of the pasture entirely. There’s another fence now, barbed wire lining the top forcing me to go under. Luckily there’s a gap in the fence where an animal dug at the ground to sneak under. Getting on my hands and knees I shimmy under the fence, my ass brushing close against the metal as I had to pull myself even harder to escape being stuck. 

Now I’m inside the yard, the path much easier to the front of the window as the glass cracks open and Elsie pokes her head out. She’s pointing to the right, my eyes glancing over to see the conveniently placed ladder leaned up against the siding. It seemed that either Mr. Smith was an idiot or Elsie had planned her escape for a different reason but it was probably a bit of both. My mind replayed the events of the evening, her sending nudes to Ethan. She’d wanted to string him along, make him come here so she could sneak out with him, they’d fuck in the car and—

“Psst, hide!” A whispered hiss is the only warning I get as the front door to the house slams open. I’m bathed in darkness as Elsie flicks out her light, my feet scrambling to get me behind the corner of the house. Mr. Smith is standing in front of the door, his eyes scanning the front yard looking for the noise he heard. I had already rounded the corner but I didn't stop there, the AC unit whirring away about ten feet from me gave me the perfect hiding spot as I ducked behind it. 

Crouching down I hold my breath, my eyes peeking between the gap in the house’s siding and the AC itself. The hoses connecting the machine to the house obscure my view a little bit but it doesn't stop me from seeing Mr. Smith peering down this way. For a moment my breath hitches and I wonder if he's seen me. I cover my mouth with my hands and shrink further in on myself to hide. It felt like forever but eventually, I heard him walk back to the front door, the sound of it closing bringing a sigh of relief to my lips.

“Okay let's get this—” The ladder is gone when I round the corner “—over with.” Any momentum I had built up after nearly being caught by her Dad was immediately destroyed. Did he know I was out here?

“He took it inside,” Elsie whispers before she slings something out of the window. Beladetly, I realize it's a series of bedsheets knotted into a crude rope. Before I could even begin to decide whether this was smart or not (it wasn't) Elsie had already left her window clinging to the rope. Her fat ass filled my vision as she slowly shimmied down the rope, the black spats she wore illuminated under the soft glow of her bedroom’s light. 

Nothing was left to the imagination and I found myself feeling slightly self-conscious. It had been a few years since I had done anything sport-related, my once-toned body had become a little bit fluffier than it used to be. Elsie seemed to be the right amount of toned and plump, her body drawing my eye like the proper sex magnet it was. It made me pissed, the nudes probably still on Ethan’s phone no doubt showed her body in all of its glory. A part of me was worried that maybe she could steal him away from me, but I suppressed it. Ethan needed me and…and he needed Elsie.

“Are you coming to rescue him or seduce him Else?” Venomous words pour out of my mouth like a knife in the night before I can even think. I want to cut her, make her bleed to make me feel better about myself.

“You can't seduce someone who you’ve already seduced.” She shoots back as she lands on the grass, her honey-colored eyes looking at me with a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. I grit my teeth, my fists clenching as I debate whether or not I have the time to kick her ass. Obviously, we don't so I trudge through the yard in seething silence while Elsie follows behind with a light step.

“Heh, seduce my ass. Ethan told me about the texts, he didn't look at your nudes at all. You left him blue-balled so I went in the bathroom and jerked him off.” As I spoke my fingers lifted the already bent fencing, the thin metal strands groaning as I pulled hard. 

“…I see.” She paused to look at me as she crouched on her hands and knees. “I do wonder how many of his thoughts in that moment were of me instead of you.” She bared her teeth in an ugly sneer, the girl diving under the fence immediately after.

“Thoughts are thoughts and you haven't gotten past being just a fantasy in his head while I’ve given him a tit-job and he’s eaten my pussy.” She growled as I raised up from my crouching position after slipping under the fence. Smirking I walked past her without so much as sparing her a glance. We have a job to do after all. 

***

(Becky Carter POV): 

I groaned, the back of my hands coming up to rub at my bloodshot eyes. The monitor to the left displayed Ethan’s location, the math used to coordinate it was strewn out on my desk. Math sucked, and this was no different. I grabbed ahold of the monster energy sitting on my desk before slamming it back like a shot glass. Grimacing at the taste I looked back at the center monitor and more specifically the data I pulled up on the location.

The property was supposedly owned by a man named Jason King, a quick Google search showed that he was the owner of a now-defunct circus called King’s Circus. There wasn't a photo of him in sight though, the only images of the circus I could pull up were of the animals and three blue-painted clowns. My eyes narrowed on the clowns and more specifically their skimpy clothing, the women were very nearly naked save for the frilly skirt and polka dot patterned bikini tops they wore. They were hardly an example of what someone would call family-friendly, but that seemed to make sense when I realized who Jason King was married to.

Rita Crespo, owner and operator of Rita’s Gentlemen Club was his wife now ex. It seemed she was trying to branch out further into the entertainment business and also advertise her already established club. Looking deeper revealed that the circus was meant to be thrilling entertainment for an adult audience with daring stunts and dangerous acts meant to push the conventional circus to the very extreme. One of the advertisements featuring the blue clowns claimed they were Kentucky’s Blue Amazonesses, their role in the circus was to most likely entice the men to stay during the in-between segments of the show. 

The last article I found was from Hopkinsville about a fatal accident involving one of the acrobats. A lawsuit and a divorce later and Jason King filed for bankruptcy, the remnants of his circus retreating to the Daniel Boone National Forest. Whatever Ethan was doing out in those woods probably caught their attention and given their desperate financial situation I wouldn't put it past them to demand a ransom. 

“Hey, sis—oh wow, you look like shit!” Rachel’s loud voice caused the throbbing ache in my head to flare, a hiss leaking from my lips as the freshly opened bedroom door let the harsh glow of the hallway’s light blind me.

“Shut up, what do you want?” I had already printed every bit of info I could drag up, one of my school folders had now been repurposed to house my dossier. Maps, potential threats, and motives for the kidnapping were all in there and ready to be put to use to formulate a plan of action. 

“Camilla’s in the van, heh, E’s gonna be pissed when he finds out we had to unload all of the shit he packed for me.” Rachel snickered, her tone overly cheery. My eyes narrowed at her, she was faking being calm. Ever since we were little she’d always played being the cool reliable older sister for practically everyone, but I knew more than anyone that it was a facade. She was scared but was too kind to show it in front of me.

“Let’s go then.” Scooping the folder up in one hand I also reached for something with the other. The grip was worn, black little chunks of the tape coming off in my hands as I lifted the bat over my shoulder. We hadn't used the thing in years as my softball career was short-lived, the dents covering the sweet spot of the bat coming from the time we played Mailbox Baseball instead. 

“You look badass Bex!” I ducked my head at Rachel’s praise, a slight heat coming to my cheeks. I was wearing something that at the time was chosen out of comfort but now I kind of regret it. My leggings were tight, the black fabric clinging to me like a second skin, my oversized hoodie acting as a skirt to cover my otherwise bare ass. I had fished out a pair of hiking boots I’d only worn once when my friends had convinced me it’d be cool to go camping in the woods without the internet. That lasted all of about one night as all of us were tired of getting bit by mosquitos. 

“…you too.” Her pink hair was spiked, a thick leather jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders. In the front pocket was a gleaming pair of brass knuckles, Rachel was prepared for war. The fishnets and short skirt showing her pert ass only added to the effect. I would criticize her for wasting time with dressing up but I think it was her way of calming herself down while I searched for E. She had been pacing like a madwoman when she first got the news. 

“Alright, let's go and kick ass!” She turned sharply around, her black combat boots thumping across the floor as she walked out. I could only smile a little at the sight, she was a dork when it came to him, wasn't she?