“She’s running,” Penny says, glancing between me and Mama. My chest tightens under her gaze. “I don’t know, I just… she reminds me so much of me when I first came here. Staying safe was all that mattered.”
Mama looks concerned. “That poor girl, I hope she has somewhere to stay.”
Penny wrings her hands. “Can you find her, Cas? I can offer her a position at the photo studio if she needs it.”
“No,” I say firmly.
All eyes turn to me.
“I’ll find her tomorrow and offer her the job back if she wants it.”
Mama nods. “You see if that girl needs help, Dexter. If you can’t hire her, we’d love to help.”
“No need, Mama. I’ll take care of it,” I insist, my jaw tight.
I glance at Jude. He gives a small nod, understanding.
???
After dinner, after promising Mama more than once that I’d let her know about Lexy, I make my way back to my apartment above the bar.
I get out, light up a cigarette, and stop in my tracks.
The parking lot is empty except for my truck and a small, beat-up Ford Ranger.
I walk closer, slower now, something in my chest tightening with every step.
The windows are fogged.
I move to the driver’s side and peer in. Nothing.
Then I circle toward the back.
Blankets. A guitar case. A pile of pillows shoved together like someone trying to build something out of nothing.
And then I see it.
The blankets are moving.
Shaking.
Something cold and sharp drops low in my stomach.
“Fuck,” I mutter, already moving.
I reach the passenger side and grab the handle. Locked.
I tap hard against the glass. “Lexy. Open up.”
Nothing.
The shaking doesn’t stop.
I move around to the driver’s side, yanking on the handle. Still locked. My grip tightens, frustration and something far too close to panic rising fast in my chest.
She’s in there.
Alone.
