Just after dawn, the door opened.
Mouth set, Sam reached down and shook Joey awake. With a gasp, the other boy scrambled to his feet, pressing himself further back into the corner, Sam ranging himself protectively in front of him.
An overhead bulb came on, leaving the two boys blinking in the sudden light. On the heels of that, two men came through the door, the snick of it closing behind them near-explosive in the otherwise absolute silence.
"Hey!" One of them, tall, red-haired and reed-thin, grinned maliciously. "How you two doing?"
Joey peeked out from behind Sam, eyes wide. "Who - who -" he stammered. Sam nudged him back with a warning hiss.
"What are you, a freaking owl?" The redhead grinned, eyes shining with spiteful humor. He nudged his companion at the joke.
The other man was bald, and big, even bigger than Sam's dad. He looked Sam up and down, head to toes, and Sam's skin crawled. The stranger's eyes were completely impersonal, assessing. As if Sam were merchandise, and he were deciding how much to charge for him.
Trying to get a look at Joey, the man reached over to nudge Sam to the side and the boy angrily knocked his hand away.
Pleased, the big man laughed. "Hey, Jerry, check it out, we got us a wildcat!"
"Ma Jenner, she don't much like wildcats, Mitch," Jerry said.
"Well, I do," the big man retorted, grinning at Sam. "You a wildcat, boy?"
Sam didn't answer, kept himself ready, gaze flicking back and forth between the two men.
Blowing out an impatient breath, the redhead started to reach around Sam to pull Joey out. With a snarl, Sam struck, the pocket knife Dean had given him for his last birthday slashing the man's bare arm.
"Shit!" Jerry pulled back. "What the hell!"
The two adults stared in astonishment at the suddenly savage boy crouched in front of them. Sam bared his teeth. "Back off!" he growled.
Mitch gave a shout of laughter. Glaring at his partner, blood dripping down his arm and to the floor, Jerry started forward. "You little bastard!"
Mitch shoved him back. "Knock it off." He grinned again at Sam. "Some people like a little cayenne in their coffee."
Sam tried to hide the shudder that rippled over him as the man's eyes ran over him again, this time with a disturbing, and much more personal, interest.
"Damn it, dude, I'm bleedin' here," Jerry whined, clutching his arm.
"So go get patched up," Mitch said unsympathetically. "This just got interesting."
Jerry shuffled out of the room, muttering angrily under his breath. The door slammed behind him and Sam glanced toward it, judging the distance.
Mitch read his expression correctly, laughed. "Don't bother, boy. Even if you get past me, there's nowhere to go."
"What do you want with us?" Sam demanded, hazel eyes blazing.
"You look like a smart kid," Mitch said. "I'm sure you can figure it out." He ran his eyes over Sam again, didn't try to hide the hunger in his eyes. He stretched a hand out teasingly.
"You want to cut me, too, boy?" Sam held firm, didn't move, even when the man's hand brushed teasingly near his face. "You want to hurt me, boy?" The man started to ease forward.
Sam steadied himself, ready to strike.
"Mitch!" The voice was a whiplash.
The big man winced. "Yeah?" His voice was resigned.
Sam's eyes darted around him and saw an old woman standing at the door, scowling. She was short, skinny and wrinkled as hell. She looked a lot like a grandma he'd seen on an old show on T.V. A lot meaner, though.
"Just what the hell is going on?" She shut the door with a quick jerk and walked angrily over to them.
"Nothing much, Ma," Mitch drawled. "Just a little tussle."
"A little tussle doesn't explain Jerry bleeding all over my carpets," his mother snapped. She stood at his side, glaring down at the boys. "What the hell are you waiting for, Mitch? Take that knife away from him!"
Mitch grinned. "He's pretty quick with that thing."
"Stop screwing around," she said harshly. "The cops are already looking for these two. We need to move them out."
Mitch glanced back down at Sam. The big man's eyes gleamed. "Okay, little man. Hand it over."
Sam shoved back closer against Joey, shaking his head.
Mitch started to turn toward the woman. "You see, Ma, he's a stubborn little -" with no warning he spun back and caught Sam a glancing blow to the side of his face with a big hand, knocking him spinning to the floor. The knife clattered to the floor and the big man scooped it up with a triumphant grin.
He swooped down on Sam then, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and hauling him up so that his feet dangled a couple of feet above the floor. He brought him close in, shook him playfully. "Gotcha!"
Sam swung at the man's face, trying to squirm out of his grasp. The man just tightened his grip, laughing. With a desperate howl, Joey joined the fray, kicking Mitch in the legs repeatedly. "Put him down! Put him down!"
Mitch grabbed Joey by the shirt with his free hand, pulled him up. "You want to play, too?"
"Mitch."
Mitch looked over, saw his mother's impatiently tapping foot and grinned at her. He lowered the boys to the floor, keeping a hand on each, controlling them easily. "Just havin' a little fun, Ma."
"Fun don't pay the rent, Mitch," she said. She stared down at the boys. "How old are you?" she asked Joey.
He stared at her wide-eyed and silent and Ma Jenner reached out and smacked him lightly on the cheek. "How old?"
"Twelve," he whispered. "Please, I want to go home!"
Ignoring his plea, she looked at Sam. "You?"
Sam scowled. "Go screw yourself!"
Mitch drew in a quick breath, looked warily at his mother. Her cold black eyes narrowed and she reached out, twisting a hand through Sam's hair, jerking it tight. "How old!"
"Too young for you, you old bat!" he spat at her.
Mitch bit his lip, turned his face away from his mother, fighting back a grin.
She tightened her grip, drawing an involuntary gasp out of Sam, and Joey yelled, "Twelve, he's twelve, too! Don't hurt him!"
She stared at the two boys, considering. "This one," she said finally to Mitch, nodding at Joey. "I think our buyer in Florida will like him."
Mitch nodded in agreement. "What about the wildcat?"
She tapped a forefinger considering against her lower lip. "He might be a little harder to place." Her mouth twisted. "He's gonna have to go to someone who likes a little - fight."
Mitch grunted, staring at Sam. Seeing how he was looking at the boy, she frowned. "He's worth money, Mitch. I don't want you marking him."
He nodded, eyes still glued longingly to Sam.
"Mitch!" Ma Jenner said sharply and his gaze jumped back reluctantly to her. "I don't want you touching him! I mean it!"
Her eyes caught his and he nodded grudgingly, shoving both boys away and back into the corner.
Sam shoved Joey behind him again and faced the two adults challengingly.
Mitch shook his head admiringly. Brave little cuss, he thought.
It'd be fun to break him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dean closed his phone, barely restraining himself from throwing it into the wall. "Damn it, Dad!" He grabbed hold of the edge of the table, fighting for control. "Where the hell are you!"
Two days. Sammy'd been missing for two days.
In that time Dean had left countless messages on his Dad's cell. None had been returned and now the cops were starting to look at him funny, probably wondering if he and Sam even had a dad, if they were on their own.
If - when - they got Sam back, CPS wouldn't be far behind, if their father didn't get back soon.
Damn it, had he lost his phone, or was he just out of range? Did he know what was happening? Did he even give a shit that his youngest son was missing, maybe dead?
Deep inside, Dean knew that last question was unfair. His dad loved Sam. He might not always show it, might not understand his youngest son, but he loved him, and if he knew what was going on, he'd be here.
Dean ran a hand wearily over his face and then opened his cell again. He searched through his contact list, dialed a number. When a voice on the other end of the line answered immediately, he closed his eyes in relief.
"Bobby?" His voice was tight, panic just barely reined in. "Bobby, we need you."