“Took you, yeah, I know.”
“Dad.” I stopped the wail with an effort. “Will you come get me?”
“Look, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. Can’t you take a cab?”
“I have no money.”
“Christ.” I listened to the exasperation in his voice, and it broke my heart. “I’ll come get you after. Where are you?”
“On Fifth Avenue, at – at –”
“Buster’s Smokes,” the dude provided helpfully.
I relayed that to my parent. My father, my only living relative, grunted, then hung up on me. In despair, I gave Buster back his phone, fighting to not break down in tears. He accepted the phone and put it back under the counter.
“I heard all that,” he commented. “Your pa ain’t worth shit, girl.”
“I know.”
Taking his wallet from his back pocket, he pulled some bills from it. Dropping the billfold on the counter, he took my hand and pressed the cash into it. “This is cab fare, girl. You got a friend you can stay with?”
“Y-yeah.”
“This should get you there. I’d call an Uber for you, it’s cheaper, but I think a cab will be faster. There’s a cab stand just down the block.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Buster smiled, winked. “Pay it forward, honey, that’s all I ask. This ole world needs a little more kindness in it.”
My throat thick, I went around the counter and hugged him, kissed his bristled cheek. “I promise. I’ll pay it forward.”
“Call the cops, now. Get that sum bitch.”
“I’ll get him. With or without the cops’ help.”
Chapter Six
Magnus
With my pledge to Jade ringing in my ears, I stayed well away from my father. He’d leave town tomorrow, allowing me time to not just get her out of there, but to utilize my freshly made keys. My plan sounded easy. Free her. Get the dirt on my old man, bring him down.
Easy peasy.
Right.
Should he catch even a whiff of treachery on my part, he’d sic his goons on me so fast I’d never get clear in time. Nor would he give up looking for me. I could fly to the Himalayas and set up housekeeping in Kathmandu, and he’dstillfind me.
“First things first,” I muttered as I drove away from the warehouse. “I gotta have a safe place to take her.”
I’d need an abandoned house that wasn’t already occupied by squatters, and mostly intact. Renting a place was out of the question. Arnaud needed only hours to locate us with my name on a lease. Fortunately, due to the recession, many people foreclosed, then left their houses. I drove to one of those neighborhoods where houses were in plenty and occupants few.
“I need a garage, too,” I murmured, driving up and down the dilapidated streets.
Empty houses were in abundance, yet I spotted signs that squatters, mostly meth heads, lived within them. I read graffitisigns, observed the homeless walking the streets with carts of their belongings. Some homes were in such disrepair entire roofs had caved in. I whistled through my teeth as I drove slowly down a narrow avenue, covetous eyes gazing longingly at my truck.
“What do we have here?”
I parked at the curb of an intact, single-story house with a brick chimney, windows broken out of their frames. It didn’t have graffiti tacked on, nor were there any homes occupied nearby. I watched the area for several long moments but saw only feral cats wandering the street.
