“Come in.” Her voice was heavy.
The door opened and Rhonda poked her head in. “You wanted to see me?”
“Take a seat.” Taryn nodded toward the chair, just as she had a hundred times before.
While the other woman slid into the chair across the desk, Taryn took the opportunity to study her.
Rhonda’s hair was limp. She wore long sleeves, something she rarely did, and moved slowly. All things Taryn should have noticed sooner. Dammit. She should’ve paid more attention after Dani brought up her concerns.
“When did you start using?” Taryn asked, skipping the pleasantries.
Rhonda paled and her shoulders drooped. She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed again.
“Think very carefully about how you want to answer that.”
Rhonda straightened and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “Three months ago.”
“What are you taking?”
“Vyne.” Rhonda’s tone dared her to make something out of it.
Taryn blanched. That shit was terribly addictive. It explained the long sleeves—continued use caused the veins to harden and turn green. That was what gave the drug its street name.
“Why, Rhonda? That stuff is scary bad for you.” Despite her overall unhealthy appearance, Taryn still saw traces of the girl she’d rescued nine months ago. “You were doing so well.”
She stared at Taryn. “Nightmares.” Rhonda snapped out the word then her lips pinched closed again.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
She laughed. The sad sound made Taryn want to cry.
“How could you understand?” Rhonda asked in a shrill voice. “You’ve got this perfect life! No one threatens you. No one forces you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Rhonda.” Taryn spoke softly and waited until she had Rhonda’s full attention. “I’ve been in your shoes.”
She gave Taryn a sour look. “Bullshit.”
“I have. I started on the street. I told you that when you came here. All this,” Taryn waved a hand in the air to indicate the bar, “was just a fluke.”
Didn’t she remember? Taryn told all the girls about her past when she brought them to Razor Jack’s, so they’d know she understood the struggle they faced. Maybe not every detail, but enough that they’d know. That they’d believe.
“Is that why you bring us here? To rub our faces in it?”
Taryn fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. Where was Rhonda getting this stuff? Had she always been this angry, this self-destructive?
“I bring you here to help you get a fresh start.” That was all she wanted for all the girls.
Rhonda was beginning to look like a mistake. But everything about her—her age, the length of time she’d been on the streets—had made her a prime candidate for Taryn’s help.
Why had Dani and others succeeded where she didn’t?
“Well, your fresh start sucks!”
The words hit Taryn like blows, but she powered through. “Where’d you get the Vyne, Rhonda?”
“From a guy.”
This was like pulling teeth. “What guy?”
