“Good. One less thing to worry about.” She coughed, deep and racking. It sounded like the chill had wrapped itself around her rib cage.
Feeling overwhelming sadness and concern for her, I stood and turned to Autumn who looked confused and distressed. “How much cash have you got?” I murmured under my breath.
“There’s a cash machine,” she whispered. “How much do you need?”
It was offered without hesitation. A wave of affection for this woman hit me so hard, it took me a minute to answer. “I’ll pay you back,” I promised.
“How much do you need?”
“A hundred?” I wanted to say more but I also didn’t want to take advantage.
She nodded and walked away, and I turned back to Mandy. “How’s life been treating you?”
Her eyes followed Autumn. “Who’s the lassie? Bonnie thing. She could be a model.” Envy soaked her words.
“She’s a friend. A good one. Good person.”
“Really?” Mandy turned back to look up at me. “Good-looking and good person dinnae usually go hand in hand.”
“My, what a cynic you are.”
“Aye, well,” she cocked her head, assessing me, “ye’re actually a bonnie girl too, now that ye’ve got some meat to you. And I know you’re a good person.”
“Am I?” I frowned. Because I’d deliberately not thought about the poor souls I’d left behind on the streets. It made me feel powerless on top of all the other emotions I was trying to manage.
“What? Bonnie, or a good person?” she teased.
I laughed. “I guess I’m neither.”
“Modesty doesnae suit ye.”
My grin felt forced. I was anxious for her and concerned she wouldn’t take what I was about to offer.
Autumn came back to my side and turned into me so she was facing away from Mandy. She murmured, “Three hundred,” and slipped the cash into my hand.
Surprised, I whipped my head around to look her in the eye. Are you sure?
She saw the question and nodded, squeezing my hand around the money.
Thank you.
I shrugged out of my coat, bending down to wrap it around Mandy. She smelled of stale sweat and bad breath, but I didn’t flinch.
“What are ye doing?” she asked.
“Take it.” I grabbed her hand with my good one and curled her fist around the money. “Three hundred,” I whispered. “Get yourself into a hostel. And now that you’re away from Ham, get yourself to Shelter Scotland or to someone who can help you find your feet, Mandy.”
I moved to pull my hand away but she grabbed onto me. “Good person,” she declared.
Tears burned in my eyes and I pulled back abruptly, standing, trying not to shiver now that I had no coat. “Take care of yourself.”
She slipped her arms into my coat, grinning. “You worry about yerself, Busker Girl. I’ll be all right.”
I waved as Autumn and I walked away. My friend—and I decided she most definitely was my friend—put her arm around my shoulders and declared, “We need to get you a bloody coat, pronto.”
WE WERE IN A STORE where I was trying on a lovely and very stylish wool coat when Autumn’s cell rang.
“It’s Killian,” she said before answering. “Hey, big bro. What’s up?” She eyed me, giving me a thumbs-up as I turned to let her see the coat from all sides. “Coat shopping. Skylar gave hers away to a homeless person . . . yes.” She grinned. “I did say that . . . Someone she knew . . . Well, she was homeless for a while, Killian, it isn’t shocking she made some friends.”
I laughed under my breath, slipping out of the coat to try another on.
“Because she was cold . . . I know that means now Skylar is cold, that’s why we’re buying her a replacement coat.”
I threw her an amused grin at the sound of laughter in her words.
“She was cold for less than five minutes . . . I can send you a photo to prove she’s perfectly okay, if that will help? . . . No, I’m not taking the piss out of you . . . No . . . fine . . . Killian, why are you calling?”
I studied myself in a nearby mirror and made a face at my reflection. When I looked over at Autumn, she was shaking her head too. I studied it in the mirror. It made me look like I was dressing up in my mother’s clothes.
“Really?”
Something about the seriousness of her tone drew my gaze back to her.
“When? . . . Okay, I’ll let her know . . . Bye.” She hung up and stared at me in so much concern my mind began to whir with questions. Had someone found out about me? Did the guys know where I was? Did the press? “What’s going on?”
“Killian’s lawyer called. They found the boys who attacked you. The police need you to come in and ID them.”
I felt a weird mixture of relief and anger. Relief because my location was apparently still a mystery to the outside world but anger because I didn’t want to have to face those boys again, especially Johnny. But I knew I had to. “When?”
“Killian’s texting me the number you’ve to call. They’ll give you the details.”
For some stupid reason, I felt hurt that Killian hadn’t called me himself. Clearly, he had no intention of being there for me for anything personal anymore. I knew that it was the smart thing for him to do but . . .
No, never mind. No buts.
“Okay.” I blew out a breath. “Guess I better buy a coat.”
“I liked the wool one,” she offered, gently tugging at the one I was currently wearing. “This is a no.”
“I’m going to pay you back. For everything,” I assured her as I shrugged out of it.
“It’s all out of the company credit card,” she replied. “So you don’t have to. I know accessing your money means letting certain people know where you are.”
We grabbed the coat we’d both liked and walked to the till to pay for it. As we stood at the cash desk, waiting to be served, I said, “If I haven’t told you before, I’m really glad I met you, Autumn O’Dea.”
She grinned, nudging me with her shoulder, “Back at ya, Finch.”
* * *
OFFICER CALTON ASKED ME TO meet her at the police station the next day where they were holding the boys before officially charging them.
Without needing to ask, Autumn guessed I might want some company while facing the kid who tried to rape me. As crazy as my life had been these last few weeks, it had been a good thing because I really didn’t have much time to dwell on the attack in the cemetery. Of course, the cast did its best to be a constant reminder, and there were moments when I closed my eyes at night and I could still feel the weight of Johnny’s body bearing down on me. When I was feeling particularly grim, I couldn’t help but imagine what might have happened if his friend hadn’t saved me.
I’d been one of the lucky ones. I eyed my cast, grateful that my worst wounds from the attack were physical. Although I was still carrying around a hefty amount of anger.
The door to the apartment opened that morning and I stood, ready to go. I frowned as I listened to the footsteps walking down the hall. They were too heavy for Autumn.
O’Dea appeared in the doorway, wearing a black double-breasted wool coat. He had a black scarf tucked into it like a cravat and was holding leather gloves.
I sucked in a breath, resenting the flutter in my lower belly.
“What are you doing here?”
His eyes roamed over me, too long, too intense, until I felt myself squirm. I was wearing indigo bootleg jeans, my new fitted blue wool coat, and heeled boots that Autumn decided I had to have. The only mar on what I thought was a pretty nice outfit was my cast. “O’Dea.”
He stepped closer, those dark eyes focused on my face. “You’ve put on weight.”
I had.
Brenna had been weighing me every week for the past month. My BMI was healthy again and to my everlasting relief, I got my period two days ago.
“That was the plan,” I answered dryly.
“Good.”
Good? That was it? Okay. I guess it was “good.” Exasperated, I sighed. “What are you doing here, O’Dea?”
He scowled. “Taking you to the station. I thought that was obvious.”
“I thought Autumn was taking me.” I grabbed my purse and keys from the side table, brushing by him, pretending not to notice the clean smell of soap and a hint of spicy aftershave, or what it made me feel. He smelled good—who cared?
O’Dea followed. “Well, I’m taking you. Problem?”