“Jayden.”
“Uh, yeah? I was just joking.”
“Forget it. I want you to go get Ms. Timo.”
“Get her?”
“Bring her here. We’re going to a hotel.”
“O-okay.”
Jayden jogs out of the house and into the dying storm. Although I would say I like him a little more than I did yesterday, I still prefer silence over his commentary. The quiet that follows his departure is welcome.
“They wouldn’t take two runaway girls to jail,” Miles comments, his voice so neutral it borders on uncaring. But I know that can’t be the case.
“If they found them,” I say.
“Let’s pretend they did. Where would they take them?”
“The Vice family is the one moving people, right? They’d take them there. For packing.”
“And you would know where that is?”
“I haven’t been in the loop for a while,” I drawl. “But I know a few people. I could find out.”
“Then that’s what we’re going to do.”
I hold the towel over my eye and mull over the statement. Miles isn’t talking to me like he usually does. It worries me, but I know for certain he’s worried about his sister. Perhaps this is his way of not panicking. Unlike Jayden, who also had problems, Lacy is young, not yet a teenager. She shouldn’t be left in the care of gangbangers for any length of time.
Nor should Shannon, for that matter.
“Didn’t Rhett tell you not to do anything about it?” I ask.
“I don’t care,” Miles states, anger finally in his voice. “I know we can find her faster. You know everything about the Vice family. And even if your knowledge is a little out of date, you know all their friends and associates like the back of your hand. We have to do this.”
I nod. “If that’s what you want. I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IT FEELS like an eternity ago that I stood in the Grand Noimore Waterfront Hotel. I glance at my phone and groan. 11:35 p.m. Fuck. It’s still the same day as the gala, despite everything I’ve been through. Time sure does crawl when you’re getting your ass beat.
Miles and I walk out of the Economy Motel and head for our car—well, Castor’s car, but ours for the time being. He jumps for the driver’s seat with enough energy for three men. I force myself to sit in the passenger’s seat, my whole body protesting my every movement. I have my gun, but I know I’m going to be terrible in a fight. I touch the patch bandage over my eye and grimace.
At least the rain has stopped.
Before Miles peels out of the parking lot, Ms. Timo hobbles out of the motel. I roll down my window, and she stops once she can place a hand on the car door.
“Are you going to look for Shannon?” she asks.
The old lady has been crying for hours. Her voice is hoarse and her eyes bloodshot. You can’t speak to her without the woman getting close to hysterics. I understand her concern, but it’s hard to comprehend the level of panic, considering I’m not a father. Still, I feel for the crone, especially when her hands shake with every word.
“We’ll be back,” Miles replies. “Stay with Jayden. The police will call him when they find something.”
“It’s all my fault,” Ms. Timo mutters. “I should’ve spoken to her sooner. I should’ve—”
“Save it,” I say, curt.
She frets for a moment. “I came to say I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Lacy’s a good girl. She never would’ve run off if it weren’t for her concern for Shannon. I didn’t mean to harm your family.”
Miles offers her a smile. “Everything will be okay. I’m sure the police will find them soon, and we’ll all laugh about this later.” He delivers the pep talk with an edge of genuine optimism. Ms. Timo doesn’t know about the corrupt cops or the dubious plan to sell lowlife criminals and runaways to the body trade, so she accepts the reassurances without a second of thought.
“You’re right,” she murmurs. “You two hurry back. It’s late.”
I roll up the window, and Miles drives the vehicle out of the parking lot. The clouds part, revealing the starry night, and it’s enough to remind me of my fatigue. I lean back in my seat and rest my uninjured arm over my face to block out what little light surrounds us.
“Where should I head?” Miles asks.
“Do you know the bar on South Street called Copper Town?”
“In Noimore?”
“Yeah.”
“No, but my phone does.”
I chuckle. “Head there. I know a few guys who frequent the place.”
Miles nods as he pushes the gearshift into place. I guess he knows how to drive a manual as well. My mind dwells on the fact as I close my eye and drift into sleep.
“PIERCE. WAKE up. We need to find Lacy.”
I jerk to the side and take in a ragged breath. Grogginess clouds my thoughts. I sit up, my head buzzing, and glance over at Miles. He zips up his jacket, concealing his shoulder holster and firearm, and he gives me the once-over.
“I need to find Lacy,” Miles repeats, his voice hushed. “Here.” He hands me a bottle of water and a Snickers bar.
When did he stop to get these? I must have been out like a light. No matter. I guzzle the water and consume the Snickers without thought. My gut grumbles a bit, but everything stays down.
I look at my phone. 12:05 a.m. That’s record time. Miles must’ve been speeding like a lunatic.
With the last of my water, I splash my face. “All right,” I say. “Let’s go in. And let me do the talking.”
“I don’t want one night to go by with Lacy in their hands. Please, Pierce. We need to find out where they’re keeping people, and we need to do it tonight.”
There’s no urgency in his tone—he sounds as calm as they come—but his words convey everything. I don’t look like hot stuff,
