You had been MIA for three years and presumed dead. Roach was your best friend, you two were like brothers. He never recovered from it.

One late winters night he was searching for you once more despite the team trying to get him to stop doing so, he never gave up. But nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

A hand snaked around his mouth from behind and pulled him onto a warm muscular body. A knife placed at his throat.

“What’s a pretty little thing doing out here all alone?”