I find Jackie in the backyard, cutting back dead branches that the winter left behind. I’ve always found it to be a contradictory passion of hers. I’d never peg her to be the type to fuss over pretty, girly things, too busy fussing over collecting career stripes. If there’s one thing everyone can agree on about Jackie Marshall, it’s that she has her sights set high in the police force.
She sees me coming and casts away the handful of debris, wariness filling her face. Her bag-lined eyes drift behind me to the patio door. Checking for Noah, no doubt.
Whatever calm that boy incited in me quickly vanishes, as thoughts of last night resurface with a vengeance.
“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? Because I am. You shouldn’t have been there. None of that should have happened.” She’s choosing her words carefully, her lips twisting as if she’s tasting something bitter in her mouth.
“But it did happen!” I lower my voice, knowing it’ll carry far around this peaceful neighborhood, especially at this time of morning. “Where is she?” I enunciate each word as calmly as I can.
Jackie hesitates. “She doesn’t want to be found, Abe.”
“Bullshit. I saw the look on her face.”
“And I heard the words coming out of her mouth when she told me she wasn’t going anywhere with me.” She stoops to collect a loose branch, avoiding my hard gaze.
Which tells me that there’s either more to the story or she’s altogether lying, because when Jackie Marshall’s telling you how it is, she could stare down paint until it peels right off the wall.
“You should have gotten her out of there anyway. Hell, I should never have listened to you in the first place! You manipulated me!” I can’t believe I let her pull rank. I can’t believe I trusted her.
God, what would Dina think if she knew!
“What was I supposed to do, Abe? What would you have done in my position?”
“The right thing!”
Jackie whips the pair of shears she’s gripping tight at the ground. The sharp end spears the dirt. “Well, no one’s arguin’ that you’re a better person than most, Abe. You deserve a goddamn medal, just for being born.”
“I don’t need a medal. What I need to do is find Betsy, and you’ve made sure that’s gonna be next to impossible.” I’ve never hurt a woman and I never will, but dammit, my fingers around Jackie’s neck would feel satisfying right about now, even just for a second.
“I’m sorry, Abe. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I just didn’t see any other choice.”
“You mean another choice that would benefit you.” I shake my head. “As far as you and I go? We’re done. Got it?” I spin on my heels, needing to get the hell out of here before I really lose my temper.
“Try The Lucky Nine,” she calls out, reluctance in her voice.
“What?”
“The Lucky Nine. It’s out by the highway. I told you I’d follow her and I did. That’s where she went.”
“And that’s where you left her. A fifteen-year-old girl.”
At least Jackie has the decency to look ashamed.
CHAPTER 12
Grace
“You’ll be in rooms 240 and 241. They share an adjoining door,” the bubbly front-desk receptionist says with a smile. I’m sure she smiles at every customer, but I doubt like that. Like she wants to hop over the desk and throw her giggly self at Noah.
I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s tall and built and, now that I don’t think he’s one of the skeevy guys pumping my mother full of heroin, I can appreciate his angular jaw and his full mouth, and every other detail that makes it hard not to stare at him. He doesn’t fit the preppy-rich-boy image that I accused him of, but he definitely does have the well-put-together thing going for him.
And if I had to guess, this girl—with her fluttering fake eyelashes and French-tipped nails and skin as smooth and creamy as a porcelain doll—is exactly his type.
Either oblivious or used to the attention, Noah merely offers her a “thanks” as he slides his credit card into his wallet, his arms naturally flexing with the movement. I didn’t think he was serious about getting me my own room, but I plan on leaving as soon as I have my hands on whatever he has for me anyway.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” the clerk asks, tucking a strand of her silky blonde hair behind her ear.
My stomach decides that’s the best time to growl, loud enough to echo through the empty lobby.
Noah grins. “Is there a good pizza place nearby?”
Front Desk Flirt’s eyes light up as if he’s asked her out to dinner. “Enzo’s. It’s cash-and-pick-up only, but I promise you, it’s so worth it. Here’s their info.” She hands him a flyer.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
He turns to regard me, and grins.
“What?”
“I was wondering if you knew how to smile.” His eyes drop to graze my lips. “Looks like you do.”
I am smiling. And blushing, from the way he’s looking at me. “That’s because your Texas is showing.” He’d dropped more than a few “yes, sirs” and “no, ma’ams” at the hospital, and for the paramedics. Apparently my dad used to say things like that all the time. Mom said it was one of the first things that made her fall in love with him.
Now I can see why. It’s charming, especially coming out of Noah’s mouth.
He reaches down to collect his bags, the grin firmly in place. “I’ll try harder to hide my Texas.”
I bite my tongue before “don’t” slips out and follow him out the door, my eye on that gym bag, which he hasn’t let out of his sight.
Whatever Jackie Marshall wanted me to have, it must be in there.
I follow him past the pool that fills the center of the courtyard, with two floors of rooms overlooking it, wishing I had a bathing suit. I can’t remember the last time I swam. I was lucky that I had enough cash to pick up a cheap pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and underwear, along with laundry detergent. Hopefully I can get the smell of smoke out of my work shirt before tomorrow’s shift. I’ll have to swing by the trailer after to see about salvaging clothes. And then . . .
My stomach tightens with the reality that I have no place to go after tonight.
“I’m sure the rooms are nothing great, but it’ll be safe and clean. Here, you take this one.” He hands me a key card. “I’m gonna drop my stuff off and run out to grab that pizza. What do you want on it?”
“Whatever it is you came here to give me.”
He smiles, but it’s not with the same ease as earlier, in the lobby. “Too bland.”
“I’m serious.”
His jaw muscles tighten. “You need to eat.”
“You’re stalling. Why?”
He passes his room key over the lock. “So . . . what do you want on it? Mushrooms? Green peppers? Bacon?”
I glare at him, but I get the feeling that my stubbornness isn’t going to persuade him.
“Come on, Gracie. Grace.” He pleads gently. The way his deep voice slides softly over my name, the way his blue eyes weigh on me . . .
The bastard used that to sway me at the hospital, too.
I sigh. I guess I can wait twenty minutes. “Crispy bacon,” I admit reluctantly.
“Pepperoni?”
“Who doesn’t put pepperoni on their pizza?”
He shrugs. “Crazy people?”
“Exactly. I’m not crazy. Are you crazy?”
He shakes his head, and amusement dances over his face again. “I’ll knock on your door when I’m back.” With that, he disappears into his room.
I sigh at the feel of the fresh, cool air as I step through my door. It’s a newer hotel, decorated in soft whites and grays, with a rich charcoal padded headboard and black-and-white patterned bedding that contrasts with the crisp white sheets. The bathroom is bright, with white subway tiles in the shower and a lemon-yellow curtain.
Despite everything, an unexpected wave of giddiness washes over me.
This may be “nothing great” by Noah’s standards, but it’s the nicest place I’ve ever stayed at. Sure, I had friends with normal families, who lived in normal houses, and who invited me for sleepovers. But for tonight, this place is all mine, and I can’t think of anything I need more than a quiet space to try and deal with today’s turn of events.
Dropping my purse on the dresser, I head for the shower.
* * *