Kaixo! I can't thank you enough for sticking with my fanfic and leaving wonderful reviews and I know I say this every day but thank you so much! I will be away on Saturday unfortunately so there will be no update. So sorry :( But I think you'll enjoy this chapter ;)

The bright red van pulled up in front of Alec's small house. It was old, and it didn't look like it had been taken care of at all. The white paint on the sides of the house was chipping of to reveal a rotting wood colour. Not to mention that it was in the middle of nowhere. They'd come along a dirt road to get here and trees surrounded the area, almost like something you would see at a cottage, except that the cottages weren't this destroyed.

"Well, here we are!" Alec said.

"It's… nice," Devona lied.

"You're allowed to hate it you know. Me and my father both do."

"So why haven't you sold it or something?" Devona asked.

"You'll find out once we get inside."

Alec led Devona up to the front door to their house. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, which was destroyed enough that Devona could've kicked it down if she'd wanted to, no keys needed.

Inside, the air smelt sweeter and it was dryer than she had expected it to be, seeing as there were huge holes in the roof. The rooms were almost bare, there was a table and a couple of chairs in one room and a bunch of boxes in the other.

"The excitement is all in the basement, it's too wet up here to keep much," Alec said, which surprised Devona because it wasn't very wet on this floor.

"Alright," Devona said.

Alec let her down the stairs and into the basement, which was much nicer. The floor was hardwood and the walls were painted a light brown. It was basically one big room except for a small one at the back. There was a flat screen TV on one wall and on the other were two small, uncomfortable looking beds. The ceiling still had mold and some of the walls did too but it was a lot nicer.

"Better?" Alec asked.

"Much."

"My father is in that back room over there. I don't know why he liked it in there but he does," Alec told Devona.

Just as they approached the door a man came out. He looked a lot like Alec except his blonde hair wasn't so bright and it was streaked with grey. Something didn't seem right about him.

"You must be Devona. I've heard a lot about you. My name is Sam, Sam Greene. I'm Alec's father," Sam introduced himself.

"Hello, Mr. Greene. Nice to meet you," Devona reached out and shoot his hand. He had a firm grip. After shaking his hand, when Devona tried to let go, he held on, tightening his grip on her hand. She looked up at him to see a gleam in his eyes and an evil grin on his face. Devona panicked and shook her hand free.

"Oh sorry, Addi. That happens sometimes. My mind just blanks out and I forget what I'm doing," Sam assured her. Devona didn't want to be here anymore. Her heart rate sped up after he'd called her Addi. She'd never told Alec about either of her parents and none of them could have ever met her mother. Devona stepped back, but Alec was no longer there, he was beside his father.

"How do you know my mother's name?" Devona asked, which she instantly regretted. Sam's kind grin turned into an evil scowl. Suddenly Devona knew what was wrong. She glanced over Sam's shoulder to find the small room's walls covered in blood.

She turned to run but before she could get anywhere, the back of her skull was bashed and she fell to the floor, unconscious.

The team had returned to the office. None of them had had any luck in finding Devona and Garcia had been unable to track her phone. They were all in the conference room discussing Devona and trying to come up with ideas of where she could be.

They had taken turns calling Devona's cell but every time it went straight to voicemail. Reid had called Violet's mother to see if Devona was there but she had said that Violet was at a soccer tournament, she had left the day before with her team. So no luck there.

Hotch was in the middle of dialing Devona's number for his second time. Hotch knew that her voicemail was and had always been the electronic voice because she didn't want her callers to know who she was. The call went straight to her voicemail, Hotch sighed in exhaustion. He was about to hang up and let JJ try on her phone when he realized something, it wasn't the same electronic voice that always took the messages.

"Dear Spencer Reid. I bet you're calling to talk to your daughter. Well if you want to find her, you'll just have to find me first. You have 72 hours to find her, if you're not here by then, well then I guess she belongs to me. 'Bye, 'bye!"

It was Sam's voice.

Hotch's heart dropped. Blake must have noticed that something was wrong because she askd: "Hotch? Everything OK?"

"He's got her."

"What?" Reid exclaimed.

"Her voicemail is Sam. It's a message for you Reid. Call her."

Reid picked up his iPhone and dialed Devona's number. It was so familiar that he could do with his eyes closed. He held the phone up to his ear and listened to Sam's voice on Devon'a voicemail. By the time it was over, Reid looked like he was going to cry.

Reid listened to it for the millionth time as he paced in Garcia's office while he waited for her see if she could find his location through Devona's phone. Garcia had wanted to try again because the phone would've been turned on for the voicemail to have been changed so there was a little more hope.

"Stop that!" Garcia turned around and wacked Reid with Samuel Greene's file, "My little genius is missing and you're scaring me!"

A tear fell down Garcia 's face as she turned and continued to work. Reid dropped his phone on the ground and sat down in one of Garcia's chairs. He threw his head into his hands. Garcia was right when she said listening to it wouldn't help. Devona, his little girl, the only family he had left after his mother's death, was in the hands of a serial killer. He had promised to keep her safe, and he had failed. He'd tried so hard but he failed. He would never forgive himself if she died, he wouldn't be able to live. After having Devona for so long, not having her would be like torture. Like being addicted to a drug then having it all disappear, painful, upsetting and depressing, but much worse.

"I'm so sorry, but her phone is off. There's nothing," Garcia said in a shaky voice. She turned to Reid and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Older men declare war. But it is youth that must fight and die."

-Herbert Hoover