“No, she didn’t say anything. We talked a little about her situation and I gave her some advice but… unless she went to the address I gave her.”
“What address?” My sneakers slip on the ice outside and as I rebalance, a sudden gust of freezing wind cuts through me like a thousand ice shards have fallen from the sky.
I don’t have time to go back for my coat so I break into a sprint toward my car.
That’ll get my blood warm.
“There was a man that her ex sent the money to. I didn’t know much about him but I found his address. She might have gone there.”
“You let her go alone?”
“Xander, what’s wrong? Why wouldn’t I let her go alone? I told her to be careful but?—”
“I just… Just give me the address, please. I think she’s in trouble.”
“Trouble? Oh, Xander.” Mrs. Rye reels off the address as I reach my car and wrench the door open. “Do you need me to call the police?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I have to go.”
“Xander—”
I can’t think about that right now.
All I can think about is Snow and that horrible voice saying such disgusting things before the call ended.
It’s already been too long.
I don’t know exactly how long, but it’s a twenty-minute drive from the hospital to that address.
Not that I do.
Every agonizing second is a second where I don’t know what’s happening which leaves painful space for countless terrible scenarios to flood my mind.
Snow in danger.
Injured.
Lost.
Trapped somewhere with a monster I indirectly sent her to by getting Mrs. Rye onto her case.
I should have been clearer and told her not to act unless I was with her.
But what right do I have to ask that? She’s not my girlfriend.
She’s not my lover.
She’s notmine.
But if she were, I would have told her.
I should have told her anyway.
I should have been there for her.
The skin on my knuckles turns thin and white as I grip the steering wheel and weave through traffic with no thought to the laws I’m breaking or the speed I’m going.
The GPS beeps softly with each closing mile toward that address and yet it’s still too far away.
