Keep Her Safe

Dina chuckles softly. “That girl hasn’t needed me for years.”

“She does. She always will, no matter what she says. That’s why we’re taking you to a rehab center tomorrow morning. It’s a great place. Dr. Coppa recommended it.”

“We can’t afford—”

“I have money. My mother left it for me.”

“No, I can’t—”

“You have to, Dina. Do it for Gracie. And for Abe. Imagine what he’d say if he saw you like this.”

She falters over whatever rejection she was going to throw out, and finally, sighs with resignation. “You know she’s not going to let this go, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. She’s already told me she’s coming back to Texas with me.”

“Did you tell her no?”

I chuckle. “Is there such a thing as telling Gracie ‘no’?”

“You’ve figured her out already. She’ll find her way there whether it’s with you or in the back of a Dumpster.”

“Yes, ma’am. She’s the most stubborn girl I’ve ever met,” I agree.

“Takes after her daddy. I wish he got to see her grow up. He’d be so proud.” Dina blinks away tears. “If she goes, I’d rather it be with you. I’d feel a lot better about that.”

“You focus on getting better and I’ll make sure she doesn’t do something too bullheaded.” Easier said than done. Gracie’s as subtle as a pickup truck barreling through your front door.

Dina nods. “Keep her safe, will you? For Abe.”

“No one’s going to come after her, Dina. She doesn’t know anything.”

“Neither did I. Not really.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” I promise. It was easy for a masked man to terrorize a broken-hearted Dina fourteen years ago, using threats against her little girl to scare her into silence. But Gracie’s not a little girl anymore, and something tells me she won’t be as easy to scare away as Dina was.

The real question, though, is whether Gracie is going to give someone a reason to try.





CHAPTER 26


Grace

Saguaro cacti stand like quiet sentries on either side of us as we pass through the stately gates of the Desert Oaks rehab center.

I try to decipher my mom’s steely face in the window’s reflection as she takes in her new home. It’s nothing too clinical, nothing too urban. Nothing that will make her feel like she’s being incarcerated.

What is it that I see in those eyes now? I’ve always thought I could read her like a book. But that hasn’t been the case after all, not entirely. Because buried deep down were secrets she was too afraid to share. Was it paralyzing fear or was it the pain of knowing that her husband had been murdered and framed for corruption that turned her into this shell of a woman?

Fourteen years of this secret, festering inside her.

What if it has festered too long? What if she has no real chance for recovery?

Noah pulls up to the curb in front of the sand-colored one-story building. “I’ve already made the first payment,” he tells me in a hushed voice.

I frown. “What? When?” Because the bag of cash—that bag of dirty money that we fought over last night, that we shouldn’t be using but what other choice do we have?—is sitting in the back, untouched.

He slides out of his seat and shuts his door, not answering me. I watch him from the rearview mirror as he pops the back and grabs the small suitcase full of clothes and toiletries I ran out to buy for her earlier this morning. “Stay, buddy.” He gives Cyclops a rough pat on his head before shutting the door and heading for the main entrance.

What has he been up to? Besides making sure everything falls into place, that is.

Mom didn’t put up a fight this morning when Noah announced that we were bringing her here. She simply nodded. But I caught the wordless look pass between the two of them. Noah must have said something to convince her during those few hours I drifted off last night. Her little golden boy, coming to her rescue.

Yet another thank-you that I owe to him.

Mom sighs. “So I guess this is it for a while?”

“You’ll like it here. It’s a female-only center. You’ll share a unit with five women. But you’ll have your own bedroom, so you have space to escape to when you need it. There are male security officers, but you won’t see much of them. Security is tight.” As tranquil as the place looks, they make an intensive effort to keep the people needing help in and the people causing the harm in their lives out. She’ll be hard-pressed to find a heroin dealer with the balls to show up.

If she has a chance anywhere, it’s here.

“They have a pool and a gym, plenty of yoga and meditation sessions. You’ll have daily individual therapy sessions and healthy meals. It has a high success rate. And who knows? Maybe you’ll make a friend.” God knows she could use one.

I catch her gaze in the side-view mirror, drifting to Noah, who’s busy chatting up the security lady by the door. “Every time I look at his face, I see Jackie.” A long pause. “What he’s doing for me. For us . . .”

“He’s trying to make up for what his mother did.” I open the door and climb out.

Mom follows, smoothing the front of the white blouse I bought for her over her slender hips. She looks far from healthy, but a shower and fresh clothes are definitely an improvement. “Don’t stir up trouble in Texas.”

“I’ll be fine. We’re just going to try and get answers, that’s all. And hopefully the police report. Noah has good connections. Plus he’s smart.” And I have no idea if he’s going to argue about taking me to Texas, because we’ve barely said two words to each other since last night. “Maybe we can find Betsy, at the very least.” It’d be nice to have more family.

“I don’t know, Grace. Fourteen years and she never came home. If she’s even alive, she might not remember who she was. Or maybe she doesn’t want to remember, with all they would have done to her . . .” Her voice drifts. She reaches around her neck to unfasten the chain and slips it into my palm. “Maybe this will help jog her memory.”

I accept it quietly. “We should get you checked in.”

“Okay. Well . . . take care of yourself.” She reaches for me.

I instinctively take a step back, putting myself out of reach. We’re a long way from hugs.

With a small nod of understanding, she turns and heads for the main entrance, patting Noah’s arm as she passes by.

I move to follow her in but Noah grabs my wrist, the heat from his hand searing my skin. “She needs to know you think she can do this,” he whispers, leaning in close. So close, the minty scent of his gum kisses my senses.

“I don’t think she can do this.”

Pleading blue eyes stare down at me. “You need to. For your own sake, as much as hers.”

“You don’t know her like I do.” He hasn’t been let down by her, time and time again. Still, for Noah, I find myself wanting to pretend. “Don’t leave without me.” I shake off his grip and march through the doors.



* * *



I step outside and exhale with relief.

Noah’s leaning against the side of his SUV, his feet crossed at the ankles, trying to convince a leashed Cyclops to sit for a treat.

And here I was, sure I’d find Cyclops and my things sitting with security, and him gone the second he had the opportunity to ditch me.

I saunter over and mimic his stance. “So, how long until she runs out, screaming at the top of her lungs?”

He chuckles. “I don’t think she’ll do that.”

“They told me you phoned this morning and paid for the first week with your credit card? And you promised to wire the rest tomorrow, after the bank opens?”

He slides on his sunglasses but says nothing. I know why he did it—because whether he wants to admit it or not, he knows that money is dirty.

Which means he’s using his own money to pay for my mom’s rehab. One part of me wants to refuse the help; the other wants to throw my arms around his neck. But we have important things to discuss.

“We should get going, then. I’ll drive the first stretch, seeing as you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Noah chews the inside of his cheek and I ready myself for a battle.

“Are you even allowed to drive?”

“Who’s gonna stop me?”