CHAPTER 25 #2
He drives on and on. My gas gauge gets dangerously close to the E.
Thankfully, Goose pulls off the freeway and stops at a gas station before I run completely out.
The woman stays inside the vehicle. She doesn’t even pop her head up, which seems odd.
Where he’s taking her is anyone’s guess, but you can bet your ass I’m going to keep an eye on him until I find out.
I spy older cars in the parking lot of a strip mall across the street.
I pull in. I can’t tail him in the same vehicle.
Not without blowing my cover. I contemplate which will be easiest to hotwire.
Popping the glovebox open, I pull out my Hellcat.
A gift from Deeds on my last birthday. It’s a beautiful silver handgun with the name “Gypsy” inscribed on the handle, and an arrow engraved along the right side of the barrel.
I slide it, along with the rest of the shit I dumped out, into my purse.
Grabbing my phone, I take a deep breath before pulling up the contact name and number I need and hitting the call button.
“Who this?” A familiar drawl greets me after a few rings.
“Is that how you greet your favorite drinkin’ buddy?” I ask, voice low and urgent.
A gasp. “Gypsy, holy fuck! Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Look, I’m in a situation here and need your expertise.”
“Name it.”
“I need a refresher on how to hotwire a car. And fast.”
“What kind of car?”
“Hmmm. There’s a couple here to choose from.” I relay the older models here because I know those are going to be the best to choose from.
With Bones walking me through it, I go through the motions, and when the older sedan roars to life, I let out a whoop of joy. “Bones, you’re a genius!”
“You gonna wear my name on your ass as a thank you?”
I smirk, despite the tension coursing through me. “You wish.”
He chuckles. “Can’t blame a man for trying. Take care, Gypsy Girl. Don’t be a stranger. Sure nice to hear that sweet voice of yours.”
“You got it.”
With that, I hang up and drive north. I have to play catch-up and hope against hope that Goose stays on the same route.
After opening the motel room door, I let Larissa enter first. Then I follow her inside and drop my duffle on the bed, before walking to the windows and closing the curtains.
I’ve been on high alert, but you can never be too careful where the 13Ds are concerned. It’s one of the reasons why I now drive so far out of the city to reconnect girls like Larissa with their families.
Turning, I ask, “So Veno had one of his guys watching you? That’s why you were late?”
Her eyes are red-rimmed and dilated. They dart around the room.
She’s rubbing her hands up and down her too-thin arms, and she seems jittery as hell.
I note the multiple fresh track marks on her inner elbows and how, in just two weeks, she appears to have lost more weight.
The handprint bruise around her neck has also faded from green to yellow.
“He’s watching all the girls extra close now.”
Shame and guilt have my stomach bottoming out.
Their freedom is getting restricted because of me.
Veno’s tightening the noose, which means he feels threatened.
Not a good sign. Dogs backed into a corner—especially rabid ones like him—get vicious and unpredictable.
It’s a precarious tightrope I’m walking here with people’s lives, and though I’ve been trying to navigate it with care, there’s going to be fallout no matter what.
I rub my jaw and shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You can’t save us all, and it’s not you who should be sorry.” She attempts a false smile, exhales, and sits on the bed. I don’t miss the slight wince that flashes over her face.
I pull off my hoodie and remove the beanie from my head, tossing both into my bag.
Then I pull out the supplies I have for her: something to eat and a few bottles of water.
I hand them over, along with a backpack that contains spare clothes, hair dye, and emergency hygiene necessities.
Then I walk around, grab one of the chairs, and take a seat in front of her.
My hands funnel through my hair to push it back before I lace them together and lean forward.
She immediately takes out one of the sandwiches and begins to eat. “Are my parents coming?”
“Yes, they’ll be here in a few hours.”
She nods, and a grim smile graces her face as she brushes crumbs away from her mouth.
Even though she probably can’t wait to be reunited with her parents, I imagine sharing what she’s been through is going to be hard on them all. No doubt her absence from their lives for the last nine months has been torture. Not as much torture as what she’s been through, but still.
It doesn’t take long before her tears begin to fall.
I do what I can to support her while also giving her space.
In my experience, physical touch is the last thing she wants.
So I pass her tissues, and promise that now and in the future, if she needs me to, I’ll stand between her and the monsters she never wants to see again.
I wait until she calms before gesturing towards her newly marred cheek—the fresh bruise and a small cut. “How’d you get that?”
She shakes her head, “You don’t wanna know.”
I nod and let the subject drop, replacing it with another.
“So what did you find out? Anything?” My own shame at having ulterior motives eats away at me, but like always, I fight past it, because if I can save two birds with one action and do right by them both, then I need to take this chance.
Even if it makes me feel like a bastard, I’m praying for at least one more feather.
One more piece of the puzzle I can use to tie the past together.
She takes a long draw on a bottle of water before answering. “A little from Kandy. I caught her on a good night. Girl was so high on H, she probably doesn’t remember a thing.”
“What’d she say?”
“You were right. There was a girl. Someone Veno had a huge hard-on for, I guess. Kandy called her Baby Girl, but she said Veno called her Angel. Guess Kandy trained her. But she said she didn’t work on the streets for long.
Was kept in the hotel mainly after she tried to make a run for it.
She said some John tried to buy her out once, but Veno wasn’t havin’ it.
Then one day, poof, she was just gone.” She shrugs.
“That’s all I could get out of her.” She fidgets with the cap.
“The rest was just gibberish as her eyes rolled back in her head.”
“Gibberish? Like what?”
“It didn’t make much sense.”
I reach over, grab my bag, and drag it towards me. I pull out a pen and a notebook. “Try to remember her exact words if you can. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
Her face scrunches up in concentration, and her eyes dart to the side.
“Something like, ‘Sex on legs. Men like that… they aren’t for us.’ Then she laughed and said, ‘Fairy tales… fuckin’ fairies, horse shit, girlfriend.
They may rescue you when you be crawlin’, crawlin’, crawlin’ out of the gutter, but they’re all too good to be true.
You’ll see. You’ll go poof, too. There’s no flying the coop. ’” She shakes her head. “See, nuts.”
I make her repeat it twice and jot it all down, then rub my hand over my face as I try to make sense of the parts I don’t understand.
“Thank you. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but I need to know all I can about her.
” At the same time, dread fills me because Larissa’s probing could mean trouble for the club and ramifications for Edge if they tie this back to me.
Edge is only safe on the inside if the truce holds and the 13Ds on the inside protect him from the enemies he’s facing while in lockup.
The guilt I feel at putting him at risk makes me, quite frankly, sick to my stomach, but it’s another thing I’m going to have to live with if I stay this course.
I nod toward the bathroom. “Why don’t you take a shower and get changed? Then we’ll get started on your hair.”
She stands and rubs her arm. “Thank you. I can’t thank you enough…” She shakes her head as more tears spill down her cheeks.
I never know how to take their gratitude. I feel it, but it doesn’t feel like something I can or should accept. “Let me know when you start feeling like you need something. What I can give ya won’t curb the cravings, but it’ll take the edge off.”
It’s subtle, but her eyes venture for a moment to my bag. She swallows thickly and nods. “I’m okay for now.”
“How long it takes to get clean is up to you. It’s a battle every goddamn day, but it is one you have to start at some point if you want to really live.” She keeps nodding and sweeps her fingers under her eyes. “I’ve been there, so I know how hard it is. It’ll take time, but you’ll get there.”
When she shuts the bathroom door and locks it, I massage the back of my neck, trying to relieve some of the pain ricocheting through my head, and stare down at the notes I’ve made.
A tidal wave of regret washes over me. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why I would have left Elle here in Albuquerque. Why didn’t I send her away? This place was obviously not a safe environment for her. Why would I have thought she’d be okay?
Kandy’s tirade makes little sense, but a few words spark hope in my chest.
Poof. Disappear. Fly the coop. Is it possible she found a way out?
I pray she did and is living a good life wherever she is now. If I can’t find her, then I hope she’s at least happy and safe.
My stomach grumbles with hunger, but I don’t dare leave. Several hours have passed as I sit and wait for any movement in the motel room Goose and the girl entered. It’s not until a Tahoe pulls up near three in the morning and parks next to Goose’s Jeep that anything noteworthy happens.
I perk up at this new arrival and grab my binoculars in time to spy a woman jump out of the vehicle. She beelines it for Goose’s room and knocks aggressively. Soon after, the male driver of the Tahoe steps up behind her. Both are thin and tall and dressed casually.
When the motel room door opens, the girl practically flies out of it.
She crashes into the woman with such force that they nearly topple over.
They hug fiercely. The man’s arms surround them both.
Goose steps out of the room. He leans against the building beside his open motel room door and watches the group.
Every so often, he scans the parking lot and the surrounding area.
When the family heads inside the room, Goose stays outside. He looks up towards the sky. Out of nowhere, he holds his hand up and points towards the stars.
My shoulders, which were locked in place, drop in relief. I pry my bone-white fingers off the steering wheel and cover my mouth, breathing into my hands to fight the tears building.
Because I know what this is. Not some seedy affair. This is Goose doing what he’s done before. Saving a girl who probably had no hope of saving herself.