He stil kept looking at me.
Then he said, “I want to say yes, but I’m gonna say no.” I closed my eyes and felt his hands on my arms.
“Girl,” he said softly. I opened my eyes and looked at him. “If I came home and found what Hank found with my woman bein’ gone and the man I sent lookin’ for her took her further away, there’s no tel in’ what I’d do. I’m sorry, it’s a guy thing. I respect him and I’m not gonna make him show me what he’l do.”
I’d had a good look in the bathroom mirror. The cuts had scabbed over, the blood was gone, but the bruising and swel ing on my cheekbone and around my eye were worse than ever. I had more bruises on my throat, arms, ribs, hips and wrists. I was an absolute mess. I was hideous; I felt it like a physical thing, inside and out.
“Look at me, Vance. I can’t go back to Hank,” I whispered and it sounded like a plea, because it was a plea. Hank was goodness and truth. I was secrets and lies.
I had no business with Hank Nightingale.
Vance watched me for a few more beats, came to a decision and nodded, “I can give you that, I’l take you to Tex.”
My relief was so great, I couldn’t help it, I sagged into him. His arms slid around me and I pressed my good cheek against his chest.
“Thank you,” I said.
He didn’t respond. We stood there awhile, him holding me, until I felt warmer and able to move. The minute my body prepared for action, he felt it and stepped away, took my hand in his and guided me to the car.
*
We stopped only for lunch and dinner and to fil up the gas tank. I didn’t eat much. Vance noticed and made me stay hydrated by buying me bottles of water and handing them to me every once in awhile, making me drink. I tried to sleep but it wouldn’t come.
So, when I was ready, on a long stretch of straight road that was al I’d ever known of Nebraska (until now, now I knew of a sleazy motel, a hospital with nice people working there and an outlet mal ), I told Vance my story.
As I talked, the cab felt like it was vibrating with the open anger that was rol ing off him.
I just kept talking.
He didn’t say anything when I was done, he simply phoned it in to Lee’s surveil ance room.
*
Denver loomed bright in the darkness. Before I knew it, we were exiting off I-25 onto Speer Boulevard, wel into the city, when Vance hit a button on the phone and the ring fil ed the cab of the SUV.
“Yeah?”
“We’re in Denver.”
“I see you,” the voice said, “You’re headin’ the wrong way.”
“I’m takin’ her to Tex,” Vance replied.
Silence.
Then the voice said, “Hank wants her.”
“She wants to go to her uncle, I’m takin’ her there.” Another beat of silence, then, “Your cal .” Vance hit a button and the phone went dead.
“Are you going to get into trouble?” I asked him.
“No.”
“You wouldn’t lie?” I asked.
“I would,” he replied and I watched his shit-eating grin spread, his handsome face il uminated by the dashboard light. “But I’m not.”
That almost made me smile too. Almost.
He pul ed up outside Uncle Tex’s house and the front door opened before the Explorer stopped. Uncle Tex came out of the house and into the darkness. The outside light came on and I saw Nancy standing in the doorway.
I opened the cab, got out and Uncle Tex was there.
He looked at me, his face lit by the streetlights clearly showing a battle between relief and fury. Relief won out and he pul ed me into his arms.
“Careful, Tex. She’s got three cracked ribs,” Vance said from somewhere close.
Uncle Tex’s tight arms loosened.
“I’m okay,” I said against his chest.
He didn’t answer.
“Uncle Tex. I’m okay,” I repeated.
Stil no answer.
“She needs rest, I don’t think she’s slept in days,” Vance said.
I was kind of getting tired of these men talking about me like I wasn’t there. Unfortunately, I was so dog-tired physical y, I didn’t have the mental capacity to cal them on it. So, instead, my head, stil pressed against Uncle Tex’s chest, nodded and I pul ed a bit away.
“Don’t know how to thank you,” Uncle Tex said, obviously to Vance.
“We’l talk about that later,” Vance replied.
Uncle Tex let me go and looked at Vance. I saw that Vance and Uncle Tex were staring at each other and the air around us had somehow changed.
“You got an idea of what you want?” Uncle Tex asked, not beating about the bush, and I hoped that whatever answer Uncle Tex was looking for was the one that Vance gave.
“Yeah,” Vance replied.
“Money?” Tex asked.
Vance’s face got tight and I could tel , right off, that wasn’t the right thing to say.
So could Uncle Tex and he changed tactics.
“Roxie?” Tex said but he wasn’t addressing me, he was talking to Vance.