Chapter 22 #2
Worst-case, she’d tell someone she’d been trafficked and they’d call the police. But the far more likely outcome was that she’d stand quietly at my side.
And that’s exactly what she did. I asked for a room with two beds for me and my daughter, using my card, then we drove down to the room and carried the food inside along with my backpack.
Lexi climbed onto the bed next to the bathroom, sitting cross-legged in the middle, and kept eating, now working on a hot fudge sundae.
“I need to make a call,” I said. “I’m gonna be outside for a minute or two, but I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” She sounded happier than she had since I’d met her. “Can I watch TV?"
I’d considered taking the landline phone with me in case she decided to call one of Knox’s people, but I didn’t want to scare her. Besides, I could watch her through the window. “Go for it.”
I opened the blinds, then stepped outside, glancing back. She was actually smiling as she flipped through the channels.
After I shut the door, I drew in a shaky breath, realizing my body was as tight as a piano wire.
I checked my phone, disappointed but not surprised that there was no response from James. He was probably busy. I sent him a text telling him that “we” were safe and to contact me when he could.
Next, I pulled up Carter’s number and hit call. He answered on the first ring.
“Skeeter was hopin’ you’d call,” he said, sounding relieved.
“I’m guessing he let you know he captured one of Knox’s men?”
“He said he hoped it was one of Knox’s men,” Carter said.
“The girl with me confirmed it,” I said. “She said her handler answers to Nixon.”
“That’s good news,” Carter said, sounding relieved. “A couple of men are headed to him as backup. They should reach him soon.”
I breathed easier knowing he wasn’t handling it alone.
“Skeeter said you were going to take the girl somewhere out of Little Rock.”
“Yeah. We’re at the Lucky Days Motel in Benton.”
“Thanks for lettin’ me know,” he said. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with her?”
“Not yet.” That was my next worry. “She’s starting to trust me, so I’m hoping to find out more about her home life. Ideally, her family comes and gets her. But if they’re trash…” I ran a hand over my head. “I don’t know yet.”
As a cop, I’d call child services and they’d put her in foster care. But there weren’t a lot of great foster home options for a thirteen-year-old, and if they sent her to a bad one, it could possibly land her right back on the streets.
I needed to talk to her first.
After we ended the call, I went back inside.
Lexi had settled on SpongeBob, and my stomach dropped when I thought about the situation I’d pulled her out of less than an hour ago.
Her gaze lifted to mine, apprehension filling her eyes. “Do we need to go back?”
I shook my head. “Nope. We’re staying here for now.”
She seemed to relax.
She trusted me. Would she trust me when she found out I’d lied?
I closed the blinds, then sat on the other bed, propping the pillows behind me and stretching my legs out.
“In the mess at the truck stop, I told you I’m pretty new,” I said, trying to sound conversational. “How many girls do you have staying with you?”
She kept her gaze on the TV. “There’s five girls in our house right now.”
“It changes?”
“Once we had seven. And sometimes we only have three or four when girls move on.”
“To places like Memphis?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
“And other places,” she said, suddenly hesitant. “Maya says some girls get to have special assignments. She says they don’t want to keep us in one place for too long.”
I didn’t want to ask too many questions at once and make her anxious or suspicious. Instead, I glanced at the food spread across her bed, and said, “You gonna eat that other fry?”
She stared at me, wide-eyed, her body going still.
“Don’t get weird,” I teased. I planted a foot on the carpet between our beds, then reached for the fry container. I leaned back on the bed and flashed her an exaggerated grin.
A slow smile tugged at her mouth. She glanced at the TV, then back to me. “Do you wanna watch something else?”
“Nope.” I said insistently. “You watch whatever you want. I bet you don’t get to pick very often.”
She blinked, confused. “How’d you know?”
“Well…” I plucked a now cold fry from the carton. “I’m guessing you’re the youngest in the house, and the older girls think they run everything.”
Her face scrunched. “Yeah.”
I felt relieved that she hadn’t said anyone was younger than her.
“Which one of the girls is in charge when Buddy’s gone?”
She looked surprise, then seemed to shake it off and gave her attention back to the TV. “Margo.” She made a face. “She’s mean. I hope she goes next.”
I decided to just go for it. “How did you become one of Buddy’s girls?”
She gave me a wary look. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
“Okay.” I kept my voice gentle. “Can you tell me how long you’ve been working with him?”
She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I started before Christmas.”
Four months then. Four months too many.
She studied me, more curious than scared now. “Are you takin’ over for Buddy.”
“Sort of,” I said.
“I hope so,” she said with a sigh. “You’re nice.”
A lump filled my throat when I thought about what she’d probably been through.
“Where are you from, Lexi?” I asked.
She gave me an anxious look. “I’m not supposed to talk about that either.”
“To outsiders,” I coaxed. “Right? I’m part of the operation now.”
She scooted back and leaned into the pillows, but she didn’t answer right away. “Fayetteville.”
“I’ve been to Fayetteville,” I said, then lied, “I went to the college there.”
Her eyes widened. “You went to college?” she asked in awe.
“Sure did.”
“I used to want to go to college,” she said in a small voice. “But Buddy says I’m too stupid.”
I wanted to text James to cut off Buddy’s balls.
“Buddy’s full of shit,” I said. “You can go to college if you want to.”
“You can’t if you don’t go to school,” she said.
She had a point. And it was an opening. “Did you like going to school?”
“I didn’t think I did,” she said softly. “But now I miss it.”
“What do you miss the most?”
“My friends,” she whispered.
“Do you ever talk to them?” I already knew the answer, but I hoped she’d keep confiding in me.
She gave a short, humorless laugh. “You must really be new. We can’t talk to anyone from our past.”
It was probably too soon to ask about her family, but the door was open now. “Do you miss your parents?”
She didn’t answer. When I looked over, fresh tears were pooling in her eyes.
“It’s okay to talk about them,” I said gently.
She shook her head. “No. We’re not supposed to talk about our families. Ever. We’re supposed to forget about them.”
“That has to be hard,” I said.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“But you miss them, right?”
When she answered, her response was so quiet I almost missed it. “Yeah.”
Relief stole my breath. She had a home she missed.
Somewhere to go back to. Because I’d have taken her in myself before dumping her into the system.
But my life wasn’t exactly built for raising a thirteen-year-old girl who probably needed therapy and stability, not to mention that the big boss of the people who’d used her wanted to torture and kill me.
“Did you fight with your mom and dad a lot?” I asked, sliding down on the bed so I was lying down too, like we were just two people watching TV. “My mom hated me when I was your age. I couldn’t wait to leave. I just didn’t know I could when I was your age.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “My mom and I fought a lot about my clothes.” Her voice cracked.
“Did you run away?”
She slowly shook her head. “No, Mom was mad at me sometimes, but I never wanted to run away.” She hiccupped a tiny sob. “I miss my mom. And my dad. I even miss Chloe.”
“Is that your friend?” I asked.
She shook her head and swiped at her cheeks. “My little sister.”
I wondered if it was smart to press any further. But this felt organic. Just part of a conversation. I only hoped she wouldn’t think I was setting a trap.
“What if I told you that you could see them again?” I held my breath, bracing for her reaction.
She went rigid. “Buddy says I can’t go back. That they don’t want me. He says I disobeyed them, and I’m a stupid girl. They don’t have time for stupid, disobedient girls.”
“I’d bet you a hundred bucks Buddy’s lying,” I said. “Hell, I’d bet you even more than that.”
She turned her head to look at me, terror in her eyes.
“There’s only one way to find out.” I lifted my brows. “We could call them right now.” I slid my phone out and held it up. “We can ask.”
She stared at the phone like it was a poisonous snake.
I sat up and turned to face her, my legs hanging over the side of the bed. “If you don’t want to make the call, I can do it. They don’t even have to know you’re here. I’ll put it on speaker so you can hear what they say.”
She looked horrified, slowly shaking her head.
“I know Buddy wouldn’t let you call them,” I said softly. “But I’m Amber. I’m going to do things differently than Buddy did.”
Her breath hitched. “He said if I ever called them, he’d kill Chloe.”
I schooled my face so Lexi wouldn’t see my anger. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was pissed at her. “Like I said, I’m in charge now.”
“What if he comes back?” she whispered.
I could see the desperation and longing in her eyes. She wanted to go home. But Buddy had done everything in his power to make sure she never did.
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, and held her gaze. “Lexi, Buddy is never, ever, coming back. He will never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
Understanding filled her eyes. Then hope rushed in behind it.
“If I call your parents, and they say they want you to come home—what do you want to do?” I asked gently. “Do you want to go home?”
She nodded slowly, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Do you know their phone numbers? If you don’t, I can find them.”
“I know my mom’s,” she whispered.