“Oh, man! My God!”
“Little Red Riding Hood! Baby, I’ll be your big bad wolf all night long!”
Oh, goody. The oblivious college boys have stumbled out of the market and back to the sidewalk. They have the same reaction I did—at least the basest one. They appreciate her beauty, but the three boys in hoodies, bearing energy-drink smiles, clearly don’t know how to give a compliment.
The woman says nothing. Her limbs are shaking so hard that I fear for the baby’s safety. I step a little closer, and she flinches.
“Hey, lady. Are you here for trick-or-treats? Because I have a treat if you wanna turn a—”
My arm shoots out and connects with the throat of the cockiest college student, the one who so grossly propositioned this visitor to our town, landing hard across his middle.
“I’m so sorry. Jasper Wainwright, WPNR. I’m conducting an interview on holiday customs. I see you fall into the category ofbelieving Halloween is a time to offend women based on their costumes?” I snarl.
“Come on, let’s go. We didn’t mean anything! Geez, some people can’t even take a compliment these days!” The college boys turn and run, the one still bent double being hauled away by his comrades.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Um. Not to be a jerk or give the wrong impression, but you don’t seem all right. Can I help you? Take you to the police station? A... Well, nothing is open right now but the supermarket and the Night Market right there.” I point. “Halloween night in this town is a little different. Most people are celebrating at home.”
“At home.” She repeats the words and then covers her mouth with her elbow, trying to muffle a sudden onslaught of sobs. In the light spilling from the street light, I can see that her slender arm is dotted with bruises.
“Hey. Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you, either,” I soothe, slowly walking forward. “But I’m a reporter. I have a nose for a story. Something tells me you have a story to tell, but maybe it’s too scary or sad. You don’t have to tell me. But... Well, if you need some help, I can find someone to help you.Ican help you.”
She looks at me for a long time, the baby now diapered and coming to rest on her shoulder, still fussing. After thirty of the longest seconds of my life, she croaks, “Is it safe to nurse my daughter here? Safe to park here?”
I want to tell her yes, but those idiot boys ruined it. I growl inside, and I’m afraid a little slips out into the windy night. Her short skirt blows to the side, revealing the tippy tops of thighs.
Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Be a gentleman.
“Contrary to the horrible first impression those dunces made, yes, it is very safe. But not very roomy. My car isparked right here behind yours, and I’m part of the community neighborhood watch group. I’ll be patrolling around the town, so I’ll keep checking on you to make sure you’re not bothered.” I hesitate. This sounds crazy, and she’s going to hop back in her car and flee for her life from the crazy Halloween horror she probably thinks I am, but I offer anyway. “My house is in the development a few miles up the road, here. If you want, you can use my living room for nursing. Or... a place to crash. Use the bathroom?” I back up again. “I know that sounds creepy, and there’s no pressure to accept. I just want to make sure you have a place bigger than your car if you need one.”
As I turn to walk away, I hear a tiny whisper. “You’ll be back around?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll think about it. Thank you.”
Chapter Three: Loretta and Jasper
His voice led me here. This is a sign on top of a sign. I have the seat reclined and the sunshield, which hasn’t seen any sun since August, unfolded against my windshield to give me some privacy as I nurse Arianna. She’s out of her routine and drinks like she’s starving.
It’s nine. Matt’s hopefully heading towards my parents’ place. The opposite direction from here. I have to call my mom and dad—but if I turn on the phone, then Matt can trace it. We have Family Location on, so we can always find each other. It was my idea. I’d seen too many stories about women and their infants getting hijacked or forced into vans in the store parking lot while trying to put their carts away.
Matt’s name is on the account. If I turn the app off, he can put it back on. If I turn the phone on, he’ll find me. I need to call my parents...
The thought runs on a loop as Ari drains my left side, and I switch her to the right. “Ow,” I mumble as her little teeth scrape me.
Can I call the police? I have no evidence or proof. My word against his. He’ll say I’m clumsy. That I bump into things while cleaning. That I’m overreacting.
More horror stories fill my head, of all the women who needed someone to believe them and who instead had to fight for protection from the men who were supposed to cherish and honor them.
Jasper Wainwright walks past again, and my heart thuds extra loud. He’s big and tall, ruggedly handsome, with a wide, gentle smile. He protected me from those gawking guys and their lewd comments.
It was his voice I heard speaking about Pine Ridge. Then he’s next to my car? Like... That’s not a coincidence. That’s someone pulling strings, someone like a guardian angel who finally stopped napping.
Maybe.
I bite my lip as Arianna gurgles and slurps. “I need another sign... I need...” I pray in silence, trailing off because I don’t know what I need. I need to be safe. I need help. I need—
