His gaze wanders through the inside of my car. "We’re looking for a girl. Seventeen years old, blond hair, about this tall." He gestures with his hand to a height of about five feet three inches. Sophie’s height. "She was last seen getting into a black pickup."
The way he acts suggests he doesn’t know the license plate number. Otherwise, I’d probably have the muzzle of his Glock pressed against my skull by now. That means he can’t do anything to me, and he damn well knows it. Nevertheless, I have to butter him up before he checks my details. Because then he’d search the car, and he would certainly find something. One single hair would be enough, and I would be in jail faster than I could say my name.
Regretfully, I shake my head. "I’m afraid I can’t help you, Officer. I haven’t seen a girl who fits your description."
He grimaces. "May I take a closer look at your vehicle?"
We both know it’s a rhetorical question, which is why I nod like I’m the good guy I never was and certainly never will be. "Of course."
Taking a step back, he continues to shine that damn flashlight straight in my face while putting his other hand on his gun holster. After I get out, he searches my pickup and peers into the empty box strapped to the bed. He then walks around the vehicle and checks everything before looking inside again as if Sophie could have appeared out of thin air.
Visibly dissatisfied, he turns away. "You can go ahead. If you see a girl who fits the description?—"
"I will report it. Of course."
While he drives away, I get back behind the wheel and light a cigarette. I couldn’t tell him where to find Sophie. Something in her eyes and the way she had looked at her mother when Idrove off prevented me from doing so. Even if she is indeed just seventeen, she’s old enough to decide by herself if she wants to stay with her mother or not.
After a short refueling stop, I pass the bus station again. Against my will, I slow down a bit and search the place with my eyes, but Sophie is nowhere to be seen. I’ll never know which bus she took. Nevertheless, I hope she finds whatever she’s looking for. She certainly wouldn’t have found it with me, so the only right thing to do was to drop her off and not take her with me.
With this thought, I turn off the main street to finally get out of this town and back home, but step on the brakes forcefully only seconds later.
Not fifty yards ahead, four guys cross the road. It seems they’ve come from the alley on the right and are heading for the entrance of another narrow alley on the other side of the road. All of them have alcoholic beverages in their hands—clearly recognizable by the brown paper bags—and some of them are swaying a bit. But that’s not what catches my attention.
It’s Sophie.
One of the guys has his arm around her shoulders, pulling her with him. She’s smiling, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have the slightest fucking clue what she’s doing. God damn… The girl did ask me if I was a serial killer. And believed me when I said I wasn’t. Me, of all people. Not that Iama serial killer, but I’m far from looking trustworthy, yet she believed me. So I don’t even want to know what she sees in those four scumbags who crowd around her, laughing and drinking.
I step on the accelerator again to cut off their path with screeching tires.
"Cole?" Sophie’s eyes widen when I get out of the truck, but I ignore it.
The guy who has his arm around her glares at me with clear hostility. "What the fuck, man?"
"I could ask you the same," I retort angrily and stop right in front of them. "What is this supposed to be, huh?"
He twists his mouth into a grin I want to punch off his face. "I don’t think that’s any of your business."
I tilt my head a little to the side and examine the four dickheads. Their intentions are obvious, but Sophie doesn’t get it. "Well, I just made it my business," I explain. "Come on, Sophie. We’re leaving."
She looks at me with surprise, but I can’t make out what’s going on inside that head of hers. Is she afraid? Of me? Of the situation? Of what could happen if she doesn’t do what I say?
"Is this your boyfriend?" one of the guys wants to know.
She shakes her head but doesn’t move.
I can’t throw her over my shoulder like a caveman and take her with me even though the thought seems quite appealing. Instead, I look at her urgently. "Get in the truck.Now."
She finally leans in my direction, but the guy next to her snakes his arm around her waist and pulls her toward him, which makes her freeze.
"Hey, man… I don’t know what your problem is, but the girl obviously wants to stay with us," he rambles, grinning slyly at me as his friends set up next to him.
I hate playing that card, but I’ll be damned if Sophie stays with these drunken assholes, so I fix the one holding her with my eyes and lift my shirt just enough to reveal the Desert Eagle I’m carrying. "I suggest you take your dirty hands off her before I change my mind, stop being nice, and remove them for you."
He immediately lets go of Sophie, who’s staring at me with wide eyes but doesn’t move an inch.
"Dude… don’t do anything stupid. We’re just messing around."
Ignoring him, I let go of my shirt and extend my hand. "Sophie?"
