“Alright, so maybe a bar isn’t the best place for you to be?” I let out a small laugh.
She shakes her head and pulls her coat around her body tighter, like she’s on the brink of a complete breakdown.
I clear my throat. “Tell me what’s going on. What’s your story? What happened?”
Theres a hesitance in her eyes, like there’s no way she’ll do that. Can’t blame her.
“I know you don’t know me but…trust me?” I suggest.
“No.” Her voice is shaking and a tear streaks slowly down her face.
Damn it. Tears and me, we’re like oil and water.
“I’d like to help you, but I need you to tell me what’s going on first.” My voice is harder than I intended.
She holds her head in her hands, crying louder. This bar is too bare for it not to turn some heads. Margie gives me a death stare from behind the counter and I sit back against the booth and cross my arms. I just asked her what was going on…I didn’t think it was a terrible question. Clearly, I was wrong.
Margie makes her way over with her drink in hand. “Here you are, sweetie.” She sets it down in front of Karissa, her eyes moving from her to me, and then she just leaves. Leaving me here to solve this by myself, I suppose. One more word out of my mouth and I’m afraid I’ll scare her right out of here.
“My phone died a half hour ago. I don’t know where I am, I’m so tired, I…” Karissa trails off.
Sucking in a breath, I force myself to speak more calmly and gently this time. “You’re in Bellamy, North Dakota. I live here with my whole family. We run a guide service.”
“What is that?” She sniffles.
“Hunting. We take people out to shoot waterfowl. Ducks, geese.”
“Oh.”
“But my youngest brother’s a cop—Mason. Maybe he could help you?”
“I don’t need help. I just need to buy a phone charger and get gas,” she clarifies, sounding confident.
“Well, you’re kinda S-O-L. Gas station down the road is closed and so is the store.”
“Seriously?”
“Wish I wasn’t.”
Her shoulders fall as if she’s never felt more defeated in her whole life.
“What’s so special about Canada?” I ask.
“My ex can’t get into Canada with his record.” She tucks her hair back, and that’s when I notice bruising on the side of her neck.
My entire body stiffens, my gut twisting as heat spreads up the back of my neck. My jaw clenches so tight my molars ache, and a fire settles in my chest.
“This the same guy who’s leaving those marks on you?”
Her eyes fall. “That’s why I left,” she mutters.
I want to punch a hole in the wall. Because this is no longer a simple girl-got-turned-around-and-wound-up-here kind of thing. Now it’s a girl-is-running-for-her-life-and-has-nowhere-to-go situation.
“Well, he’s not gonna find you here,” I tell her.
“I hope not,” she says on an exhale.
Margie interrupts again, this time placing a plate of food in front of Karissa. I watch her unroll the silverware and dunk the spoon into the tomato soup.
