Chapter5
“Where are we going?”
Taryn shifted her gaze from the car’s display to the girl in the seat next to her. “A hotel.” Picking Up a Young Street Girl 101. It was in perfect keeping with the persona she’d adopted for the night.
The girl trembled.
“Are you cold?” Taryn commanded the car to turn up the heat.
The girl shook her head. Awkward silence filled the space between them.
“Your name’s Gazelle?”
She shook her head again. Then, just when Taryn had given up on her answering, she whispered, “It’s Giselle. He could never say it right.”
Fuck. It wasn’t bad enough that Giselle’s whole life had been stripped away from her. She was taunted with her loss every time he used the almost-but-not-quite-right name. That sucked.
“Nice to meet you, Giselle,” Taryn said softly.
Giselle gave her a funny look, then went back to staring out the window.
Several minutes later, Taryn pulled into the back lot of a no-tell motel on the fringes of the city. The flickering neon lights may have once enticed long-ago visitors to enjoy free Wi-Fi and in-room hot tubs. Now the only thing that kept the place in business was no ID requirements and a strict cash-only policy.
“Get out,” Taryn said when they stopped in the darkened parking lot.
“Here?” Fingers on the passenger window, Giselle’s voice wavered.
“You got a problem with this place?” She was curious how Giselle would respond.
The girl sucked in a breath. “No, it’s perfect.” Her voice was stronger than it had been.
Interesting. If Taryn didn’t know better, she’d have said the girl’s voice oozed sarcasm, but sarcasm was a dangerous game when you were a street girl.
Still, Taryn admired her gumption. It meant she’d made the right choice. “Good.” It really was the perfect location for what she needed. “Follow me.” Taryn grabbed a small overnight bag and a small metal carrying cage from the trunk and locked the car.
Tucking her arm into Giselle’s, Taryn led her through the dark parking lot to the room she’d rented earlier on a burner phone.
She held the code up to the scanner and the old-school system flickered a weak green. Pushing open the door, Taryn studied the room. A big bed dominated the space. The faded bedspread covering it probably hadn’t been changed in decades. Sadness and desperation hung in the air—they’d probably soaked into the walls.
It would do.
Waving Giselle to go ahead of her, Taryn set the cage outside, then closed and locked the door, setting the chain as well as a portable deadlock she’d brought with her. She intentionally didn’t look at Giselle. The girl was terrified. Things wouldn’t improve any time soon.
“Have a seat.” Taryn gestured to the bed.
Giselle perched on the edge with a grimace. Her hands fluttered as she decided whether to fold them in her lap or brace them on the mattress and lean back seductively. She settled for placing them in her lap. In the room’s bright lights, Giselle looked like a girl playing dress up.
Taryn wanted to cry. Instead, she channeled all those emotions into her resolve.
Digging into her overnight case, Taryn pulled out an untraceable tablet. She opened a popular music app, put it on the bedside table, and turned it up. It took a little fiddling to find the perfect volume: loud enough to cover her conversation, but not loud enough that the neighbors would complain. Like Taryn, the people who frequented these hotels didn’t want to draw any attention.
Taryn stalked around the room one more time, studying the setup. Satisfied, she turned to Giselle. “Go into the bathroom and take off your clothes. Leave them there,” she said in a cold steady voice.
Giselle stared at her, horror slowly wiping away the tentative smile that had been growing since Taryn hadn’t immediately attacked her.
“What?” Arms wrapped around her middle, Giselle stared at her with wide dark eyes.
“Go into the bathroom. Take off your clothes,” she repeated. “Wear a towel if you want.” She knew Giselle was scared. That was what she wanted. Quiet and less likely to ask questions.
