“You don’t have to go out that door and get in his car,” I said gently. “I can make sure you’re protected.”
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes.
“Do you want to go with that man?” I asked. When she didn’t answer, I tried a different route. “How old are you?”
She lifted her chin. “Sixteen.”
“How old are you really?” My voice went softer.
Surprise spread across her face. Then, to my shock, she whispered, “Thirteen.”
My stomach dropped and my resolve to save her doubled down. “Do you want to go with that man?”
She gave a slow, terrified shake of her head.
“Harper,” Cassandra called out, a sharp warning in her voice. “He’s comin’ in…”
Panic exploded over the girl’s face. She bolted for the door, still clutching the cans to her chest.
I stood and watched as she collided with the driver, who’d been approaching the entrance.
He grabbed her upper arm and shook her hard enough that the cans slipped from her grip and clattered to the ground. His free hand lifted like he was about to strike her, but then he glanced at Cassandra through the window and dropped it. Instead, he shoved the girl toward the spill. “Pick up those cans and get your ass in the car.”
I didn’t think he saw me, but I couldn’t be sure.
Cassandra’s gaze snapped to mine. “What are we gonna do?”
I knew exactly what I was going to do. I was furious I’d just stood here and hadn’t done it sooner.
I rushed to the end of aisle, ready to bolt for the exit, when a hand snaked around my upper arm and locked me in place.
James.
“You’re gonna let her go,” he said low.
I glared up at him, fury boiling over. “The fuck I am. Let go.” I tried to jerk free, but his grip tightened, hard enough I’d probably have bruises tomorrow.
“We’re gonna get her,” he said through gritted teeth, holding my gaze. “Just not yet.”
“In two weeks when we figure out where they’re stashing her?” I spat out, yanking again but getting nowhere.
“Tonight,” he snapped. “After we follow them to wherever he’s takin’ her.”
I stopped fighting.
He was right. It was the better plan. And I felt like an idiot for not thinking of it myself.
I turned to Cassandra, who looked like she was about to call 911 on James.
“He’s with me,” I said. “About her drinks—I can pay?—”
“Go!” Cassandra shouted. “The guy’s backin’ out.”
Sure enough, the guy was looking over his shoulder as he reversed out of the space. I didn’t see the girl in the front seat.
James released my arm and sprinted for the back, and I was right on his heels. We jumped into the car. He backed out within seconds and shot toward the road.
The white Buick had just turned right onto the street. James pulled out behind it, leaving several car lengths between us.
