Chapter 12

Brock was speeding and breaking every law he could, even running redlights, and he didn't care if the police were around and ticketed him out the ass, he wasn't slowing down. The streets of Pewter City was almost empty anyway, save for the main highways.

A drive tha normally took 12 minutes, Brock was there in five, and they both jumped out of the car, racing through Eve's front yard and to her front door. It was locked of course and Brock banged on the door as loud as he could.

"Open up!" He yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Fiona!" Misty called out.

In the small hole in the closet that Holly had pulled them into, Fiona could faintly hear her parent's voices. They were here! But how...? She hadn't called them? And she didn't think Eve had done it.

So how could they have known?

"Open up!" Brock banged louder on the door, but got no answer.

Fiona removed the plaster from the hole in the wall, but Holly pulled it back.

"No! You can't!" She said, shaking her head. "Those guys that were in my room. They aren't good guys. They have hurt me before."

"What do you mean?" Fiona asked.

"They touch me and I don't like it," Holly told her.

"But my Daddy is here," Fiona argued. "He won't let anyone hurt us!"

She removed the piece of wall again and crawled out, thankful to be out of the tiny space. Holly wanted to stop her again, but Fiona was too fast. She watched as Fiona swung the closet door open, and was startled by the loud banging on the front door.

"I'm gonna break this fucking door down if you don't answer me, Eve!" He yelled, ramming his shoulder into it as hard as he could. Fiona felt like the whole wall moved.

"Brock, you are going to break your shoulder," Misty said, and Brock backed up.

"I don't care about my shoulder," he said, but just as he was about to get another running start, the latch clicked up and the door swung inward. There, standing in her charmander, fleece pajamas was Fiona.

Misty's eyes filled with tears and Brock dropped down to his knees. She ran to him and he gathered her in his arms, tears running down her face. Misty wiped her tears away.

"Fiona, what's the matter, sweety?"

"Mommy!" Fiona threw herself into her mother's arms next. "I want to go home!"

"You're going home, sweetheart," Misty promised her, but Brock had walked towards the house and stepped inside. He was going to find the bastard who was making those remarks about his wife and daughter.

Holly tensed when she saw Brock walk in, and she couldn't resist the urge to run up to him.

"Holly!" Brock called out, looking at the direction she had come from. The open closet. "Where you in the closet?"

She nodded, huddling close to him. "There was two men in my room and...they tried to touch us. I'm scared!"

Brock looked back at Misty and Fiona, who were out on the porch and pulled them into the house. Those creeps could be anywhere right now and he wanted them close to him.

"It's alright, Holly. I won't let anyone hurt you," he stepped in front of her and called out. "Eve!"

Where was she?

Then, he heard someone stumbling down the hall. He readied himself for a fight, all of his blood was pumping into his muscles, but his body relaxed when he saw it was just Eve.

She stumbled down the hallway, a glass of scotch in her hand, when she saw Brock she smiled.

"I was just thinking about you," she said, stumbling over her feet. Misty's eyes went wide. Was that really Eve? Was she drunk? Was she high?

"Eve! What the hell is going on?" He asked, and she tripped again, landing in his arms.

"Did you come here for a late night fuck?" She asked, laughing hysterically. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've been wanting to say that to you for so long..." then her eyes fell on Misty. "I guess we can invite her to join. I can do women too."

"Eve, are you on coke?" He asked, and Eve laughed hyterically again.

"God, no! I am a school teacher!" She said, tears coming to her eyes from her laughter. "Am I on coke? I think you are on coke!"

Misty scowled at her. "Eve! What the hell is wrong with you? I leave my daughter in your care and you are drinking and doing drugs...and letting men come in here and feel her up? And your own daughter?"

Eve lit a cigarette. "Oh, calm down. No one is feeling them up. Just a couple of friends of mine were over here and they wanted to go in and see the girls. Nothing happened."

Brock turned and looked at Fiona. "Fiona, did those men hurt you? Are you hurting anywhere?"

She shook her head. "No."

"What about you Holly?" Brock asked, and Holly shook her head.

"They have hurt me before, but not tonight," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I want to go home with you?"

Eve rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go."

"Oh, we will!" Misty said, gathering up Fiona. "And we're going straight to the police about this and then I am pulling my daughter out of your class!"

Brock went into Holly's room and gathered up her things, then emerged a moment later. He grabbed on to Holly's hand and led her out the door and to their car. It was the first time in a long time that she had felt safe.

Driving straight to the police station to fill out a report, Brock was a little more careful about obeying his traffic laws. He had his little girl, and both girls were safe, and that's all he cared about. Fiona complained of being tired, and she didn't really understand what was going on. She was just happy to be back with her parents again, and Holly was happy for the same reasons.

They interrogated the girls for almost two hours, but when Fiona started to cry, partially due to pure exhaustion, and partially due to intimidation, Misty opened the doors to the room and stopped it.

"This has gone on quite long enough," she said, picking Fiona up and comforting her.

Stone had stopped his interrogation anyway, it seemed to him like no harm was done to either of them, though Holly had told her some things had happened to her in the past, which is why she had built that hideout in the closet, and what possibly saved their lives.

"We can investigate," Detective Stone had told them, once they filed the report. "But if there is no evidence that an actual crime took place, we can't promise much. The girls said they weren't touched."

"They were stalked!" Misty said, exasperated.

"I know, Mrs. Harrison," Stone said, nodding his head. "I know, and the phone calls can be recorded and looked into as well, but I can't gather DNA from either suspect if the girls were not sexually or physically abused. All I can do is ask Miss Castillo some questions and give you a restraining order..." he looked at Holly. "I assume that isn't your child, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison?"

"It's not," Brock replied. "She's Eve's daughter. We didn't take her, not without Eve's permission."

"Alright," Stone said, twitching his mustache. "Just make sure you don't get slapped with a kidnapping charge. I'll get my men together and we will question Miss Castillo first thing in the morning. If I feel like there is anything suspicious, I will put in a court order for a warrant. We take accusations of child molestation very seriously, and you two did the right thing by reporting it. We will definitely look into it. Alright?"

Only semi-satisfied, Misty and Brock left the police station and headed home. The adrenaline wore off when they stepped into the house, and they saw Rose and Flint sitting together on the couch, watching television.

"Hey, where did you guys go?" Rose asked, not noticing the look of stress on either of their faces.

"We went to get Fiona," Brock said, sending both girls upstairs to clean up. He knew neither of them were going to bed soon, but settling down and getting their mind on a disney movie sounded like a good start.

"And Holly?" Flint asked.

Misty nodded and sat down in the recliner by the couch. "Eve let two men come in and...and..."

Rose's eyes widened. "Oh God...honey, no, please tell me they didn't-"

"They didn't," Misty quickly confirmed. "Holly and Fiona got away, but, it almost..." The tears she had been holding back in front of her daughter finally spilled out and Rose put her arms around Misty, hugging her close and for the first time in a long time, Misty hugged her back without even thinking about it.

"It's alright, Misty," Rose said softly. "The important thing is they are here now, and Fiona is in her own home. That's the safest place for her right now."

But Misty hadn't felt safe here in weeks.

She had felt eye constantly watching her, tracking her every move. She hadn't just avoided sex with her husband because of Flint and Rose being here, it had been because she felt eyes boring into her the entire time.

The image of Tracey Sketchit pleasuring himself to her while she slept flashed in her mind, and she knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep soon, either.

...

The telephone rang out, startling Brock from his slumber, which he had only enjoyed in short fits. When he opened his eyes, he knew it was morning, because of the light finding its way in, despite his dark drapes over the windows.

Another ring peirced to silence of the morning before his hand found his cell phone by his bed. Misty stirred beside him, and he knew she hadn't slept well either. They had went to bed around 3:30 A.M., after the girls had settled down while watching "The Little Mermaid", the two of them had collapsed in bed, but as soon as they were falling to sleep, they would both jerk awake. Brock believed he did that for about an hour or so before he finally got a good stretch of sleep, and he could feel Misty moving uncomfortably next to him.

He slid the green phone icon over to answer it, not bothering to look at the number or the time. He was suspecting it was his mother, especially if it was after 10 A.M., but the voice on the other end was not his mother's.

It was Detective Stone.

"Am I speaking with Mr. Brock Harrison?" The voice asked, and Brock rubbed his eyes, checking his bedside clock. 9:45 A.M.

"Yea," he said, yawning. "This is him."

Misty moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat the hum of his voice vibrating in her ear.

"This is Detective Stone. We got the DNA analysis back from the lab," Stone began, feeling uneasy. "The victim was raped before she was killed, and we tested any DNA on the body that was not her own. We didn't find anyone locally who did it, but we sent it off to the national Data base, which searches through basically anyone in the world."

"What did you find?" Brock asked, and now Misty was sitting up on her knees, looking at him.

"The DNA results match Tracey Sketchit. He's wanted on 15 murder charges since 2007," Stone's voice cracked over the receiever and Misty watched Brock's tan complexion turn white.

"What?" He asked.

"The reason I'm calling you is because in a police report it says that he was shot by your wife about 5 years ago. He was presumed dead, but was found to still be alive just before embalming took place," he said, and Brock sat up, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. "He was in Celdon City recovering, but recently escaped."

Brock exchanged a glance with his wife. "I know who attacked my little girl last night, Detective. It has to be that son of a bitch!"

"We're already searching all over Pewter City for him. We have a warrant out for his arrest," Detective Stone informed him. "We're sending a couple cars to watch out near your gym and your families' home, and also your own home. We'll also be watching Fiona's school very carefully."

"Is there anything we can do?" Brock asked.

"Just keep your family close, Harrison," he told him. The two of them hung up and Misty's fear soon turned into terror as she realized that Brock was also very scared. She cried as silently as she could into his shoulder and he held her, kissing the top of her head.

"It's alright, I won't let anything happen to any of you," he promised, lifting her gaze up to meet his. He placed a soft, loving kiss on her lips, and lingered there for a moment, kissing her deeper, running her fingers through her hair.

"I love you," she said, wiping her tears. "Brock, I've been so terrified. I'm sorry I haven't been very attentive to you and we haven't been-"

"Honey, don't aplogize to me," he said, softly. "You are so beautiful, just looking at you in enough for me. Just don't be terrified. What have I always said to you?"

"That you will always protect me," she replied and he nodded.

"No matter what, and now that also applies to Fiona, and our new baby, which you need to take care of," Brock spread his hand on her belly. "Don't stress your body out. It's not good on this baby."

"I know," she said, wiping the last of her tears away. "It's just...now we know Tracey is definitely alive, and he's in the area and he killed someone and dropped her deady body in the yard." Her mind went back to when she had seen him in the bathroom closet. "I saw him in the bathroom closet..."

"You saw him? In the house?" Brock asked.

"I thought I did...I was in the bathroom a few days ago, and I had just thrown up from morning sickness, so I could have just been hallucinating, but I saw him go into our bathroom closet and I turned around and immediately opened it, but...he was gone."

"People just don't vanish," Brock said, maybe Misty was hallucinating, like she had said.

"I know," she said, shaking her head. "That's why I didn't say anything. I don't want you to think I'm crazy."

"I already think your crazy," he said, grinning, and she playfully slapped him.

"Brock, I'm scared!" She said, and he pulled her down to him, cuddling her close underneath the quilt, to ward off the cold of the October morning.

"Don't be scared," he told her softly. "We have our little girl, and she's OK, so there is nothing to be afraid of."

But even Brock didn't believe the confidence he tried to portray in his voice. Tracey had been watching them he could feel it. And now, with Holly, his own daughter, in the house, Tracey was sure to come here again.

...

A week had passed, and Misty had gotten to the point she was so exhausted that she basically slept through anything. Halloween was approaching, and Fiona and Holly decided they wanted to dress up like Anna and Elsa from Frozen.

The cotumes weren't hard to find, and it was worth seeing how happy the girls were at the costumes, but Misty wasn't too keen on letting them trick of treat.

Tonight was the night before Halloween, and Brock had went out and bought candy by the truck loads, or at least that's what it seemed to Misty, but it was probably only about 4 large bags. Their neighborhood was known to be friendly, and since Brock lived on the block, more young children had wanted to come and meet him since they thought of him as some kind of celebrity, so they usually got slammed with children in costumes.

They bought two pumpkins and Brock gave both the girls a large black sharpie to draw a face on them and he would carve them up. He left the girls in the kitchen, the dining table spread out with newspaper and he met his wife in the living room. They settled on the living room couch, and Brock was grateful that his father and Rose had went out once again to dinner, he just hoped it wasn't to purpose to her.

That would make for strange holidays. His father would also be his father-in-law, and his mother-in-law would be his stepmother, and Misty's father-in-law would be her stepfather as well. He shurgged the thought off.

"Do you think it's safe for the girl's to go trick or treating tomorrow?" She asked, glancing back at them, giggling in the kitchen as they drew silly faces on the pumpkins.

"Halloween only happens once a year and they are only little once," Brock said. "We will just keep them really close and not let them venture off to houses up ahead. We'll be with them at every house."

"I don't want to take the fun away from them," Misty said, leaning her head on his arm. "They don't really understand what's going on."

Brock wrapped his arm around her. "Don't worry, Babe. Everything will work out fine."

"Daddy!" Fiona called out. "We're finished!"

"Be there in a second!" He called back, then kissed his wife's cheek. "Just try to relax, Honey." He left her alone in the living room, and went to the kitchen. She heard the girls giggle in disgust as Brock emptied the pumpkin seeds out onto the table.

Holly giggled. "It looks like the pumpkin threw up! It's so gross!"

Brock picked the pumpkin up and made fake wretching noises, which sent the girls into a fit on giggles. Misty smiled. He was right. They would be just fine.

Rose and Flint had come home just as Brock was finishing up carving the pumpkins.

"Oh, what pretty pumpkins!" Rose said, noticing one was drawn scary and the other was drawn with a snaggled tooth grin. "Are you going trick or treating tomorrow?"

"Yea!" They both answered in unison, and Misty grinned.

"They wanted to go tonight, too, but I explained to them that our neighbors didn't have any candy prepared for them," she helped Brock clean up the kitchen and clear off the table.

Brock didn't say much once the girls were upstairs, preparing for their bath. He just cleaned up what dishes they had from dinner, and then went upstairs to his bedroom to play Xbox 360 before going to bed.

Flint then turned his attention to Misty. "I know he's mad at me."

"He's still dealing with...everything that happened," Misty said softly, and sat down at the kitchen table, she quickly glanced at her mother for a split second, then looked away. Rose twisted her hands uncomfortably.

"I'm going to go upstairs and take a shower," she said, kissing Flint on the cheek and going upstairs to the guest bedroom that would soon be turned into a nursery.

Flint sat down next to her at the dining room table and Misty felt anxious. She had never much talked to him before, not even at her wedding, and she wasn't quite sure what to say to him.

Luckily, he spoke first. "You remind me so much of Lola."

"What?" She asked, shocked by his statement. "I do?"

Flint nodded. "I always thought women were most beautiful when they were pregnant. Lola was, and still is, a very gorgeous woman. All you girls from Cerulean were always so beautiful."

Misty blushed. "Uh...thanks, Mr. Harrison."

He leaned closer to her, and looked into her eyes, and she could tell he had been drinking. He was drunk, and now Misty could tell. Brock must have known from the moment he walked in the door and that's why he had retreated up to the bedroom so early.

"Your mother is very beautiful, Misty, but you..." he reached out and touched her cheek. "Brock is truly very lucky to have you."

"Th-thank you," she said, becoming a bit nervous. She pulled back and stood up from the chair, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Please," he said, pleadingly. "Please don't be afraid of me. It's just when I look at you...I see Rose the way she should have been, if not for the drugs and the hundreds of men and the hell they put her through. I see you are the type of mother that Lola always was, and the type of mother that Rose should have been, and I'm so sorry you didn't have that in your life."

"Mr. Harrison..." she said.

"Call me Flint," he told her. "You're married to my son. You should be allowed to call me by my first name."

"Flint," she corrected. "It's really alright, though. I-I just have to get upstairs and get the girls a bath."

"Wait!" Flint said, pulling her back and wrapping her up in his arms so tight that Misty couldn't even begin to get out of it. He smelled so strongly of alchohol thatit made her stomach churn. As if morning sickness wasn't bad enough...

Then, she felt it. His hands cupped her rear and he let out a sigh of arousal. Her skin crawled and she pushed him back with all of her strength, slapping him across the face so hard it reverberated throughout the house.

She just stared at him as she wretched herself from his embrace and raced upstairs to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and locking it. She couldn't hide the disgust in her face from her daughter and Holly.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Fiona asked, and Misty undressed them and lifted them both into the tub.

"Nothing, Sweetheart. I'm just tired," she said, and smiled over at Holly. "Let's get you washed up and off to bed, so tomorrow we can get ready to go trick or treating."

Holly looked up at Misty as she scrubbed her back with a washcloth. "Can I stay here forever?"

Misty's expression went soft, and she tried not to show the terror in her face that she felt inside.

"We will see what happens," she said, smiling at her. "Come on, now, lets get your dried off and ready for bed."

"Can we watch a movie?" Fiona asked.

"Yes, you can watch a movie," Misty told them as she dried them both off and helped them into their pajamas, then drained the tub. As the girls rushed out into the hallway, she was hoping she wouldn't run into Flint. The hallway was empty, and by the time she washed the tub out and went into the girl's bedroom, they had already picked out a DVD from Fiona's collection. A Winnie The Pooh Halloween special.

She kissed them both on the head and Holly settled down on the air mattress beneath Fiona's bed and thought about how much she hoped she got to stay here forever, and that she wouldn't have to go back and live with her mother, and those men.

Misty opened the closet, moved the clothes around, and then immediately felt silly for doing it. The girls didn't question her strange behavior. She had been doing it for weeks, and even more so now that Tracey's DNA was found on the dead girl's corpse that was dropped off in their backyard.

She ventured into the hallway and found Brock leaned back in bed, playing Xbox, blasting away zombies on a video game. She curled up into bed beside him and leaned her head on his arm.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm fine," Brock said, not taking his eyes away from the screen. "Just dad being drunk again after all of these years bothers me. He has been sober for a long time. Nearly 10 years now, and he gets hooked up with Rose and he falls off the wagon again."

Misty had thought about telling Brock that his father had made a pass at her, but now decided against it. She wanted Brock to maintain his relationship with his father, and it already had enough strain on it with him cheating on Lola, she didn't want to be the reason he goes into the guest bedroom and beats his ass.

"I'm sorry, Brock," she said softly, and Brock paused the game and looked at her.

"Don't be," he said. "It's not your fault." He brushed his fingers on her cheek, and pressed his lips softly against hers. It had been a long time since either of them had sex, and Misty found herself responding to the instincts she had been ignoring all week long, because her mind was too preoccupied with fear.

Brock wasn't going to let Flint's drunkeness ruin this for him. He put it out of his mind. He put everything out of his mind. Tracey. His Dad. Misty's mother. Eve Castillo. Everything bad that had happened in the past month didn't matter at this moment, only his wife, who was provocatively straddling him right now, lifting up his tank top and running her hands over his abs.

He unbuttoned her white ruffled blouse, and finally got to look at her breasts, which were teasingly obvious throughout to the day to him. The bra that was concealing him was the next to go, he felt blood rushing between his legs as he took in the sight of her.

She pulled back from him, suddenly. "Let me go lock the door."

"Babe, everyone's asleep," he told her, not wanting her to get off of him, but she was already on her feet and headed over to the door to lock it. He took the opportunity to quickly get out of his pants and tank top, and when she was back at his bedside, he all but pulled her down on top of him, slipping off her sexy red thong, that Brock knew she only wore when she was plannig on having sex with him.

"You were planning this tonight, weren't you?" He asked, throwing them to the ground and feeling her delicious hot heat on his throbbing erection, teasingly.

"I was more like hoping for it," she said, and felt his hands reach around her back and unhook her bra. It fell away and Brock's eyes stayed glued to her chest. It started off as rough sex as their pent up frustration and desire was unleashed, but slowly evolved into sensual love making, with a lot more kissing and touching.

Brock was determined he was going to cherish the moment. The moment when his wife wasn't frightened or worried about what or who was hiding in her house, because she was enjoying him.

...

The closet door was only open a crack, but he was watching them. Just like he had the night on the beach. God, he hated Brock so much. He really wished he would have died with that Kara girl had shot him, but at the same time, he admired him. He got to have amazing sex with the most gorgeous woman in the world. He only wished he had his charm, maybe Misty would have loved him.

Brock had her bent over the bed, and he was behind her, pounding into her so hard the bed was rocking against the wall with every thrust. Her round, perfect breasts were pressed against the matress, and that's where his eyes were focused. He had wanted to sketch it, but he couldn't help but touch himself. She was making the sexiest sounds, the sounds she had always made, but never with him.

He closed his eyes and pictured himself being the one who was making her beg for more.

When he opened them again, she was standing up, by the edge of the bed. Her nude form was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he often liked to draw her naked. Her long red hair curled protectively around her breasts, and her perfect nipples were erect with arousal. Her waist of curvy, and shapely, not too skinny, and her hips were round, full, but her face had always been his favorite part.

She was pretty when they had met, just after he had left Eve, but now she was a beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous woman with long, shiny red hair and blue-green eyes.

Brock kissed her as he thrust inside her again, this time, relaxing a little while she rocked her hips against his. Her breasts bounced with her movements and Tracey felt himself approaching his release. He slipped on a condom, all the while hearing the sounds she was making as she made love to her husband.

His eyes snapped back to the two of them, and he could tell she was ready to reach her orgasm. Misty and Brock both shared their moment of pleasure together, as Brock released himself inside of her, and then she rolled over beside him, content, and feeling safe and satisfied that two of them just shared a very beautiful moment together.

They talked for a bit, turning out the light, and cuddling together for warmth as they fell asleep, not knowing that their very private moment they shared together, was also shared by a third person.

A watcher.

A stalker.

A jealous ex-boyfriend.

...

The next evening, Misty had made dinner a bit earlier than usual, and Brock had made it home from the gym just as he had promised. The girls were excited to finally get to dress up in their costumes and go out. Other children from the neighboring houses were standing on their front porch as their mother's made last minute adjustments to their costumes.

Fiona was Anna, and Holly was Elsa. Brock had even bought an Olaf costume that fit Eevee, though the Pokemon wasn't too fond of it. Rose and Flint agreed to stay at home and give out the candy while Misty and Brock took the girls out around the neighborhood.

The sun was almost setting when they had set out among the other trick or treaters, their neighborhood was very busy. Fiona and Holly had a large bag each, and they took the girls from house to house, up one side of the street, and down the other.

Eevee walked along with them, following closely to Fiona as she went up on porches and through yards. The sun had completely set, and though their neighborhood was lit up by glow sticks, lamp posts, and front porch lights from neighboring houses, Misty felt uneasy.

Both of their bags were very full by the time they were done trick or treating, which had taken a little over an hour. The night was growing colder and colder by the minute, it seemed, and pretty soon Misty's entire body was numb. Brock had slipped his arm around her for warmth, but it hadn't really helped much.

They decided to head home and go through the loot the girls had collected. They trusted everyone in their neighborhood, and everyone knew who Brock was, but they stil liked to make sure everything was safe and throw out any candy that was open and could possibly be tampered with.

Brock thought it was a real shame that they even had to take the precaution, because back when he was younger, his parent didn't have to worry. They were still a good way from the house, when suddenly, a figure dressed in dark gray ran by them, snatching the two large bags of candy from them and bolting away.

Fiona immediately started to cry, and then Holly had followed. Before Misty could even respond, Brock was gone. He was running so fast, he almost ran straight into a parked car, but dodged it and kept going, his feet barely even touching the pavement. The figure in black was never out of his sight.

"Hey!" Brock screamed as he approached the figure, closing in on him. "What the hell are you doing stealing my kid's candy?"

Misty heard his voice echo through the neighborhood and watched as other people stopped and watched Brock fly past them. "It's alright, Fiona," she said, comfortingly. "It's OK, Holly. Daddy's going to get your candy back."

Fiona was hysterical, but Holly hadn't seemed that upset anymore, she seemed more frightened than she was upset about her candy.

"I know, I know," Misty picked her up, and bounced her up and down slightly. Fiona let out another long, loud cry, and choked back as she inhaled air, her face turning red. "It's alright,"

She put her back down on the ground and Eevee licked her face, comfortingly. Then, Misty felt a gloved hand cover her mouth, and her scream was muffled as she was dragged away.

...

Brock tackled the man hard, to the ground, in the Powell's front yard. They were an old couple and kept their house dark on halloween, but there was enough light from their neighborhood's halloween display that Brock could see his face when he pulled off his mask.

He didn't recognize him, but he could tell he was much older, probably in his forties.

"You sick fuck!" Brock overpowered him as he held him down on to the cold ground.

The man reached out to push Brock away, but he wasn't strong enough.

"I'm sorry," the man choked out. "I'm sorry. It was just a prank. I swear."

"Aren't you a little old for pranks?" Brock asked, scooping up the two bags of candy from the ground. "My daughter is fucking four years old. You think this is funny?"

The man stood up and shook his head. "I'm sorry, please don't hurt me..."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if I hurt someone as pathetic as you are," Brock said, pushing him hard in the chest. "Go pick on some other kid whose dad can't chase you down and kick your ass!"

He walked away from the guy, and headed back down the street where he had left his wife and with Fiona and Holly, but when he got back, all he saw was Fiona and Holly, huddled on a nearby neighbors porch and looking upset.

The Rockingham's were an old grandparent-type of couple, and Brock walked down in their yard, avoiding the trick or treaters and handed the bags of candy back to his daughter and Holly.

"Where is Misty?" He asked, and Fiona started to cry.

"We don't know," Mr. Rockingham said. "She was standing up at the front of our yard with the kids, and then she just disappeared."

"Shit," Brock said, pulling up his cell phone and speed dialing the police station. "Yea, hey it's Brock Harrison. Misty's went missing..."

A pause, then Brock's frustration became very apparent. "No, she didn't run away! God damn it! She left my daughter and her friend out on the street in the middle of a Halloween crowd. She wouldn't just run away..."

Fiona clung to his leg and looked up at him. "A man took her Daddy!"

Brock's heart sank. The police officer still spoke in his ear. "We have to wait 48 hours before we can file a-"

"You know what? Fuck you, if you won't help me, I'll find her myself," he clicked off the phone and shoved it back into his pocket. "You'll keep an eye on the girls?"

Mrs. Rockingham nodded and Brock took off out of the yard. Whoever it was, couldn't have gotten far, and he bet everything he had that the guy who took the candy was doing it as a distraction. Now, Misty was gone, but he wouldn't rest until he got her back.