“C’mon,” Cassidy said, grabbing the girl’s hand again. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”
Izzy wrenched her hand from Cassidy’s. “You’ve ruined everything!”
“We’ll work it out later!” Cassidy cried as the fire engine approached. In seconds, they would be exposed. “Trust me on this,” she said, imagining the shit storm of media attention this story would cause for both of them. “Let’s go!”
Izzy released a groaning wail, but let Cassidy lead her forward. Quickly, they fled into the darkness.
Thirty-Two
Quinn pulled up at the curb and jumped from the car. Cassidy leapt into his arms. With everything that had happened in the last few days, being wrapped in his warm, strong embrace filled her with relief so strong it was like a drug.
“Hey,” Quinn said quietly to Izzy once Cassidy released him. “I’m Quinn.”
Izzy sniffed but didn’t reply.
With no way to get to the bike without being spotted, Cassidy had called Quinn and to her luck, he was on his way from the airport. While waiting for him to get his car, the two women had sat in silence. She had tossed the gun in a dumpster a few blocks away from the warehouse, promising herself to repay Dutch as soon as she got the chance, plus return his motorcycle—with Quinn’s help, of course. But which hospital had the ambulance taken him to? Was he okay?
Cassidy had at least been able to give Izzy the second t-shirt she’d worn as part of her disguise, but the red of her underwear flashed from beneath the hem, and both women were barefoot. Cassidy was sure Izzy’s feet were as cut and bruised as hers.
Together, the three of them got into the car. Quinn drove in silence while the sound of the sirens looped through Cassidy’s mind.
At Quinn’s apartment, they climbed the stairs. Cassidy noticed Izzy limping. Once inside, Quinn busied himself with getting them all glasses of water.
“We can stay here tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll figure out what to do,” Cassidy told Izzy.
Izzy’s head lifted sharply but she didn’t reply. She didn’t need to—her resentful eyes said it all. She then flicked them accusingly at Quinn, who took the hint and went to his room.
Cassidy led Izzy to the guest room, a space she had occupied many times. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the queen-sized bed made up with a soft yellow comforter and the white easy chair positioned in the corner. Instantly, Cassidy craved the feel of the sheets against her skin and imagined drifting off to sleep in its folds. But she would defer this room to Izzy. Quinn had offered his bed, but Cassidy wouldn’t hear of it—she would take the couch.
Izzy sat on the bed.
“Can I have a look?” Cassidy asked, pointing at Izzy’s feet.
Izzy looked away but didn’t resist when Cassidy kneeled down. She used her good eye to inspect the bottom surface of Izzy’s foot, finding mostly minor scrapes, but one deeper gash under the curve of her big toe looked raw and gritty with dirt. “Does it hurt?” she asked.
Izzy winced. “A little,” she said.
Cassidy looked at the other foot but found no major injuries. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Cassidy asked carefully. It occurred to her then that maybe Izzy needed medical care.
At this, Izzy began to cry, her body bucking with sobs.
Cassidy wanted to embrace her but wasn’t sure such a gesture was welcome. So, she grabbed the box of tissues from the bedside table and placed them in Izzy’s lap. She sat next to the girl as she cried until she couldn’t stand it any longer and put an arm over her shoulders. Izzy seemed to collapse against her.
“I’m the only one who can save her,” Izzy choked out before another wail left her lips.
“Who, Izzy?” she asked, trying to be patient.
When Izzy didn’t reply, Cassidy’s anger resurfaced. “Look, maybe this wasn’t your ideal, but your shenanigans have caused grief for a lot of people. The geology department, your friend Alice, me, Martin. He may get kicked out of his program, Izzy. I may lose my job.” Her voice had risen dangerously. “What is so important that you would do this? Let alone do whatever you intended in that room?”
Izzy’s shoulders slumped. “My mom,” she said.
Cassidy felt the fight drain out of her. “What?”
“She’s dying.”
Cassidy tried to make sense of this. “I don’t understand.”
“She has a brain disease. There’s this treatment. In Sweden. It could save her,” she said, her voice desperate. “But she doesn’t have the money.”
“Oh,” Cassidy said, thinking back to the events of the last two days. She remembered what Charlie had said—that Izzy worried about her mom. She’s alone, Izzy had told him. The answer was right under my nose all along. “So this is all about . . . getting it?” she asked, seeing her video with Cody in a new light. “Won’t your father help?”
Izzy’s lips curled into a grimace. “No.”
“Where is she?”
“Vegas,” Izzy said. “After field camp I was going to go see her. I told her I’d come up with the money somehow.”
“Your dad won’t help?”
“No,” she replied, her mouth hardening.
Cassidy grimaced. How could someone with so many resources deny care to a person so important to his daughter? “And then Cody proposed you make that video.”
Izzy nodded, her eyes filling with tears again. “At first, we were just messing around, and then he tells me how much money we could make. I’d slept with Cody before and I knew Will had a crush on me, so it didn’t feel like that big of a deal.”
“Was it?” Cassidy asked.
Izzy hugged herself. “I was pretty fucked up that night, so when I saw it the next day I . . . I don’t know,” she said. “And then Cody sent it to my dad.”
“Is that why you took off?” Cassidy asked.
Izzy nodded.
“Does he know about your situation with your mom?”
“He’s the
