Emily is scanning the homes. “We’re busy, and he’ll have to wait until we get back into town.”
“So, he knows what we’re doing?”
“I didn’t give him all the details. Just told him and Scar that you and I were hanging out this weekend. The less people know what we’re up to, the less of a chance Wes gets wind of it. Not that either of them would rat on us.”
I agree with her about Zach. He wants in her pants so badly he won’t put her in jeopardy and not after how we found her in that hotel room about to get gang-raped. Scarlett, though, I couldn’t say. I don’t know her at all.
Emily stabs a pink-painted nail at the house on the left. “There.”
I drive past the one-story stone structure with a well-manicured lawn so I can make a U-turn and park in the empty spot in front of the house. It also gives me a chance to scope out the area. I don’t believe Wes will pay Kim a visit, but I don’t trust the asshole.
Sam says Wes isn’t that smart, but I think we need to treat him as if he were. Just to be on the safe side.
I cut the engine, not seeing any signs of Wes lurking or anyone in the car parked across the street. “You ready?”
Emily bites on her nail. “I pray she wants to cooperate. It will make my life easier.”
It will also take away one problem that causes her to turn to drugs and bring her one step closer to sobriety.
We both get out of the car at the same time. After I round the front of my truck, I hold out my hand.
Once my large paw swallows her small hand, she lets out a contented sigh. “I’m needing that hit, Adam. Right now.”
I stop halfway up the driveway. “You’re beautiful, strong, and have the world at your feet. Repeat that every time you feel the urge to get high.” Honestly, I don’t know if it’ll work, but Mom has a similar mantra when things get tough.
She nods. “You think it’ll help?”
I kiss her forehead. “When my mom has to dig deep for strength, she says, ‘I’m a good person, I’m tough, and nothing can get in my way.”
She pokes out her chest, seemingly satisfied. I’m about to kiss her for good luck when I spot someone looking at us through the bay window.
I tug on Emily’s hand. “Someone is watching us.”
Before we ring the bell, the door opens. An older lady in her fifties with gray hair and soft brown eyes, greets us. “Can I help you?” Her gaze swings between Emily and me, suspicion mounting. “If you’re selling something, turn around and leave.” Her tone is rather harsh.
Emily tenses. But I press on. “We’re not here to sell anything, ma’am.” I give her my sugary voice, the one I use with Mom. “We’re looking for Kim Roberts.”
Her gaze hardens before she scans her neighborhood. “Who’s asking?”
“We’re students from Cypress University,” Emily says. “We were hoping to talk to Kim.”
“Are you friends with her?” the lady asks, looking ready to shut the door on us.
I’m not excited about giving out too much information. More to protect Emily from her mother. If President Parker gets wind that we’re responsible for bringing down Weston Blakely, I’m not sure what she’ll do. She might commend us once she finds out what Wes has done not only to her daughter but to the students she’s supposed to protect on campus. Or maybe not.
“Mom, who is it?” A young woman about our age saunters up, studying me with her brown gaze and startled smile. “I know you.”
Emily and I exchange a surprised look.
The girl nudges in beside the woman. “Mom, I got this.”
“Kim, honey,” her mom says, mashing her lips into a thin line as unease drips from her tone.
Clearly, someone has a done a number on her psyche, and I’m guessing it’s Wes.
“Mom. This is Adam Miller, the quarterback of Cypress University. I can handle this. Why don’t you finish making coffee?”
Her mom pivots on her heel, not looking happy.
