“Tell me about your plants. Wade says you have a collection at home. What are their names?”
“My plants?”
“Yeah. Your plants. You told Opal and me all about how important that was. You didn’t lie, did you? Chantrelle will be so disappointed.”
“Well, there’s Vera …” She started a litany that I was ashamed that I was only half listening to, but it seemed to be helping her calm down while I messaged Wade and drove at the same time.
She sounded completely different from the happy-go-lucky version I knew, like someone holding themselves with deliberate effort, and it hit me hard in the chest like a physical blow. I took a turnoff harder than I needed to, but tactical driving was a skill I’d been trained in, and it was proving useful right now.My truck’s suspension absorbed the corner, spitting gravel as it went. “Keep me on the line. Talk to me, Tiny.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I was just trying it out. You give me nicknames.”
“Ugh. I call you descriptors. I’m not actually tiny. You are actually tall. Gigantic. You’re impossible.”
The chuckle was instant. She was wrong because she was small. “When it comes to me, you’re small. So … it’s a descriptor.”
The gas station came into view as she spoke. “I’m not sure what happened.” There was an audible change in her breathing. “I was just making a delivery for the Handlers. It’s their fiftieth, and they’re really sweet, but I had to stop for gas because this van is old and a gas hog. Then I had to pee because Lila brought me chai. So I went to use the bathroom,” she stopped. “When I came out, someone tried to grab I was so scared. Wade had said …”
Just hearing her tell me she was scared, and the thought that someone had put their hands on her, felt like acid in my veins. Clenching the steering wheel, I tried to focus. I was almost there and could assess the situation myself. Then I’d see that she was okay.
Creekside Gas Station didn’t try to break the mold, with its squat building and two pumps. Sage had parked off to the side near the bathrooms in the back, where a commotion wouldn’t necessarily be seen. I pulled in quickly enough that my tires gripped the gravel and spat it out when I turned, so my truck blocked the van’s back doors, close enough that nobody was getting through without a barrier first.
“I’m here, okay. I’m going to knock on the back of the van.” I was already scanning the parking lot, but everything looked completely normal.
She was pale, all her red hair springing from its braid, and both hands wrapped around her phone like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth right now.
She looked up at me and slumped, closing her eyes for a moment. “Hey.”
“Fancy seeing you here.” Getting into the van, I closed the door behind me so we wouldn’t be exposed. I still wasn’t sure what was going on, and no way was I going to let us get ambushed while I was sitting in the middle of nowhere. “Are you hurt?”
“Not really. Just scared.”
She was still hunched over her knees, a posture that made me wonder whether she was telling the truth. It felt like I had swallowed broken glass just thinking about the possibilities, but I forced the thoughts down. Assess. That’s what I needed to do right now.
Getting down on my knees in front of her, I said, “I’m going to check. Is that all right?” I waited for her nod of agreement before tilting her face up with my palms to look for any signs of harm, relying on the skills drilled into me by years of fieldwork.
Her color was off, but her eyes tracked, and her pupils were equal. She allowed me to turn her arms over, revealing marks where she’d been grabbed. The pale, soft underside of her skin was red, though there was no bruise yet—just a flush indicating one might develop.
"That's going to bruise," I said, trying to keep my breathing even, even though my heart seemed to be pounding out of my chest, stroking the edges of the marks.
"I know." Her voice was steadier now. "It's not bad. It could be worse.”
She looked at me again, those light hazel eyes of hers seeing something that made her breathe out softly. We were packed tightly in the van now, and she scooted a little closer to me. She was right. Things could be so much worse. When I was in the military, I thought I’d seen the worst things a human could do to someone, but it seemed it was just the tip of the iceberg. Now that I was in the private sector, it seemed that the depravities that I was exposed to were even worse.
"It's bad enough,” I grunted.
“Thank you for coming. I meant to call Wade. I should have probably called 911 or something, but I was panicking, I guess.” She picked at the edge of her fingernail where she had some dirt.
I already knew that the call had been meant for her brother, but it stung a little now. It was absolutely stupid, but I wanted to be her first call. Even looking at her now, I could see the shock. Who the fuck expects to be attacked coming out of the gas station? Especially here?
“Wade should be here any second.” She leaned forward into me, balancing her cheek on my shoulder. “We’re going to figure this out. Whoever laid hands on you is going to be found and punished.” That was a vow from me to her. She might not understand it yet, but I was not the kind of man who let these sorts of things go unanswered.
Tires screeched outside, letting me know the cavalry had arrived. I still angled myself to block the door with my body, kept my hand on my piece, and reached over to clamp Sage tightly to me.
“Rhodes!” Wade called from outside, his voice unmistakably tinged with panic for his sister. A thump sounded on the metal panel of the van.
“Clear,” I called back, letting him know Sage was safe and the area was secure.
