Brea was good at faking optimism and confidence, especially in situations like this. He had to believe they would find Corey. They had found Baja, hadn't they? He didn't like to consider the state she had been in, how she'd nearly been dead, when they found her. She was fine now. Corey was going to be fine too. He had to believe that, because if he didn't then there was no way Colt would believe that and he could tell his friend was seconds away from breaking apart. They would find her. He had promised Logan.
All that went out the window, however, when he saw the text from his girlfriend. His stomach was already clenching with knots, fear making his chest feel like someone was sitting on it. Brea definitely did not need the obvious stated, not with it swirling inside him and making him sick with fear, but Colt said the words anyway. "Fucking fuck," he nearly growled, tempted to throw his phone in order to release some of the anger but knowing he needed it. It was the only way they were going to find them.
Following Colt, he nodded as the other man grabbed the car, slipping into the passenger side without hesitation. He directed his friend, praying each time the pin stopped that it was just a light or a stop sign and not the fucking kidnappers throwing her phone out. It always kept moving, for much too long Brea thought. At least for Corey's sake. The two had been in the car for what felt like hours when the pin eventually stopped for good, and soon enough they were pulling up to what looked like an abandoned construction site for a warehouse. He didn't see any cars or vans, which made his heart drop, but he shook it off. They had to be here.
"This is it. I hope." He was already opening the door before Colt had really stopped the car, not thinking that they should probably have some sort of plan before they just charged inside.