The Search For Dakota Thompson

Chapter 11:

"Take off your jacket."

"What?"

"C, trust me. Take off your jacket and stay here. I'll be right back." James hummed, walking through a door and closing it behind him.

Turns out 'something I might enjoy', resulted in me being pushed into a room and left here.

Fun.

Looking around, I spotted a small stool behind me and taking a seat I did as asked. The room was quite small, larger than the previous room but still quite small, empty too. There wasn't much I could base the function of this room off.

Dropping my jacket on the floor to my right, I stood up and began walking aimlessly around the room.

Being a slight orange colour, the faded concrete walls looked like rusted metal, which oddly I found cool. Water had dampened the wall, so the concrete floor pooled small pudles of what seemed to be rain water in places around the outside of the room.

Where is he? Why was h-

"It's quite something isn't it?" I felt his hands rest on my hips, swallowing hard my body stiffened.

"Yeah," I choked out, only to be spun around and pushed against the wall, Westbrooke's hands caging me in, on hand on the wall the other wrapped around a gun, pressed to my temple.

"You're in this situation, what do you do?" He questioned, but I wasn't listening. My gaze traveled from his eyes to his bare chest, to the jeans hung dangerously low on his hips. God he was hot! But not in the way Lykan was. In the was he was. Lykan was dark, Westbrooke was light. They contrast eachother, but there was no saying who was hotter. They were both stunning.

"Um," my eyes shot back to his, his lips pulled into a tight smile, his hair pushed from his forehead by his glasses, cheekbones littered with scars, freckles dotting his nose, red settling at the base of his neck, just above his collarbones. "I um-don't know." I exhaled softly, blowing on a few strands of his hair due to our close proximity.

"Yes you do, think about it Cali." He almost growled, somehow making me focus.

This happened to me when I was with Kody, what did I do that didn't work? I thought hard to what hadn't worked, and to what would.

Theres space between us, not enough to raise my leg. Left arm is bent, right is straight.

Thinking about it, I raised my right hand, slamming it against his left wrist, knocking the gun from his hand while gripping his wrist with my left. Wrapping my right hand around his other arm he chuckled, catching my attention,

"What." I let my hands drop, yet they still remained on his arms.

"You need a full runthrough don't you?" His lips parted as he laughed at my expresion. "Never raise both hands-"

"-why?"

"Because, then I could do this." James smirked as his grip tightened on my wrists pulling them above my head and forcefully pushing me to the wall, his body pressed against mine.

Forgetting how to breathe, I stared at him in awe. Was it ever possible to call him handsome at 15, when he looks as he does standing infront of me now?

"James-"

"Swap, I'll show you how to reverse it." Steping back, I was aware of his absence, so much so it brought me to the present.

I did as asked, again. I picked up the gun and took my place opposite him. Adopting the same stance as he did, I noticed the difference in our height, and how proud each of us stood.

"Now what?" I asked. Earning a innocent smile.

"Watch me."

Carefully, he raised just his right arm to my left hand, snapping the gun from my wrist, holding it himself. Placing it to my forehead he pushed himself from the wall, moving my feet backwards as he did.

I knew how to get out of this situation, Lykan had already taught me it.

Within a heartbeat, I snapped his wrist away, gripping his elbow, right arm at my side, pull back, tense.

With his back to my chest, my hand to his throat I could feel the vibrations of his deep chuckle.

"You already know that one, someone got to it before me then?"

"Lykan," I inhaled, releasing him from my grip. Taking his place opposite me, his eyes searched mine.

Without warning he made a move towards me, wrapping his arm around my waist, taking my legs from under me and droping me to the floor, pinning me there.

My chest rose and fell repeatedly as I caught my breath. My arms above my head, his lips almost brushing my own.

"James?" I whispered, thinking I felt his lips. I didn't.

"If Lykan can take away your breath, what's stoping me?" He snarled, bitterness laced in his words.

His eyes were cast over, clouded. Not lust, I knew what that looked like, and not rage, I knew that look too. It was stronger than both. Different, than both.

Then they snapped. Shone that familliar emerald green, guilt swimming among the colour.

Getting to his feet, he pulled me to mine. "Shall we carry on?" He mumbled, avoiding my gaze.

That's exactly what we did, for what felt like hours, till both of us were damb with sweat, chests heaving as we spared and trained, each in attempt to gain dominance.

After numerous tries, and many various situations, I finally got him to the floor, pinned under the barrel of a gun.

"I think we're there." He laughed, but stopped as the door behind us hit the wall.

"Westbrooke," A voice I knew as Henry's began.

I stood up, offering a hand to James. He took it, pulling himself upright. My attention was aimed towards a panicked Henry, "there's movement." He rushed out, his chest rising with each breath he took.

"Who?" James made his way to where he had draped a tshirt over a crate, calm and collected, the complete opposite to how he was while we were training.

"Cole." He bit off. "And Nate."

"Nate first."

"He's out, we have eyes on him. He's back at base."

"And Cole?" James continued,

"He's there too. We think he's after Dakota again."

"Well how does he know to follow Nate?" At this point I was stood up,

"That's the thing, Nate is there because of Dakota." Henry began to catch his breath.

"And now?"

"Lykans already on his way there. He left just now."

Westbrooke looked between me and Henry, taking a step towards me, "bueno apúrate deja para ir a conseguirlos antes cole hace."

"In English James." I hummed, not bothering to mentally translate.

"I said," He smirked, pulling the collar of his jacket tighter, "lets go get them, before Cole does."