Page 52

“What the fu—” I muttered and slammed on the brakes when a new figure ran in front of my car, smaller than the last.

“Lexington?” Detective Ransom asked, but I didn’t speak.

I couldn’t; I didn’t even remember to breathe. I stared out of my windshield and couldn’t decide if I was losing my mind or if this was real.

If she was real.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened my door without a sound, and climbed out into the shadows. As I rounded the car door and stood to the side, my breath caught in my throat.

Goldie stood pinned in the high beams like a deer in the headlights. The moonlight caught the edges of her profile, casting long, sharp shadows behind her as she held both hands surrender-high in the dark.

She was a shadow of herself. Gone was her long, flowing hair, sheared down to a few uneven inches at her ears. Months of captivity had carved away her weight, leaving her dangerously thin and pale, her skin drained of all color. Standing in the high beams, she held her hands high, offering a cautious, placating surrender.

She looked at me with worried, panicked eyes. “Please help us.”

I took a slow step forward. “Goldie? Is that really you?” I wanted nothing more than to run to her and wrap her in my arms—the only place I knew I could keep her safe. I also wanted to pinch myself because I truly couldn’t comprehend if this was real. If she was real.

I vaguely heard Detective Ransom’s panicked voice wafting from my car speakers, but nothing mattered except the woman standing in front of me.

Goldie’s dark gaze turned confused, and she squinted her eyes as she looked at me, assessing. I suddenly felt self-conscious, wanting to squirm under her gaze. “Do you have a phone? Can we call the police? I promise we don’t mean any harm. We just need help.”

“Goldie,” I stepped closer again. “I can help. It’s okay.”

She lowered her hands slowly, her eyes squinting against the beams of my headlights. “You know me?”

She was only three feet away from me now, but it still felt like miles. She stared at me like I was a stranger, and I reached out to take her hand, but she flinched away, taking an additional step away from me.

She looked to the side of the road and glanced back at me. “Will you take us to the police station? Or a hospital?”

I nodded, trying to figure out why she was acting so strange. Well, she had been missing for two months. That would be a valid explanation, but this was different. Something was missing, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

It suddenly hit me that she kept saying we… us. “Who is with you?”

She glanced to the side of the road again and nodded. I strained to see who she was talking to, but it was far too dark to make anything out. Slowly, a body emerged, tall and lanky. It was a teenage boy who deferred to Goldie, moving to stand behind her, trying to cower. His eyes were mostly closed as he strained to look at me through the beam of the headlights.

“Hi,” I greeted softly. “I’m Lexington.”

Goldie smiled reassuringly, wrapping her arm around him and pulling him behind her in a protective motion. Her smile disappeared as she looked back at me. “My name is Goldie, and I’ve been held captive for two months. Can you please help us?”

“Goldie, I know. I’ve been looking for you—we never stopped looking for you,” I explained and tried to step closer, but she stepped back at the same time, forcing distance between us.

I chose not to let it hurt my heart—or at least to ignore it.

She stared at me, confused, and the boy leaned over, whispering something in her ear. She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“You know Goldie?” the boy finally asked, his voice raspy, as if he hadn’t used it in far too long.

I looked to him and then to Goldie. Seeing if she would respond, I noticed she was looking at me, waiting for my answer, just as anxious as the boy to learn the truth.

I nodded. “Yeah… yeah, of course.” I trained my gaze on Goldie, feeling a lump in my throat growing. “Do you not remember me?”

She shook her head slowly. “Should I?”

Goldie

He stared at me from the other side of the hospital room where he sat on what looked to be an uncomfortable chair, but maybe he was just uncomfortable being here. He hadn’t left me alone since he picked us up and drove us to the hospital.

Flagging down the car was an absolute risk, but Silas and I had been walking in the woods for a few hours at a minimum and were both waning. Silas had run into the road, hoping to get their attention, but the lights had spooked him, and he had come back to me wide-eyed and nearly mute. I hadn’t explained to him what a car was, so I didn’t judge his worry.