Then what? I glanced at my bag, wondering if I should call Lance. I wanted to, but was afraid he’d go to the motel and cause an even bigger problem. What if The Scarecrow saw him coming and killed Gigi because I went against his orders? What if he killed us both? Me, I wouldn’t care about, but I couldn’t put Gigi’s life in danger. She was already in enough trouble.
Calling Lance was out, then. I couldn’t worry too much about it. The man probably only wanted money. He was a businessman, just like Lance had said earlier.
Why did I leave her? Why? Who was stupid enough to let her go? I would have died before I let anybody take her. It didn’t make sense, all those people at the clubhouse and not one of them could stop a little girl from being kidnapped? I doubted he’d come in with an army—I didn’t think drug dealers exactly traveled in packs.
So who was it? Which member of the club let her go? I didn’t want to consider that any of them could be part of it. No way. The guys loved Lance, and I saw the way they acted around Gigi. They treated her like gold. There had to be something else happening. Maybe he’d been watching, waiting for the right moment. He’d seen Lance leave, I guessed. He knew she would be less heavily guarded. Heck, he might even have seen me leave, too.
The right moment wouldn’t have come for him if I hadn’t been sitting around my house in my bathrobe.
I screamed in frustration, wishing I could take it all back. That I could turn back time and not make such a huge, selfish mistake. To think, I wanted to take care of that little girl. I told myself I was best for her. Had I made the best decision in the moment? No. I’d only thought about myself. I wasn’t fit to take care of anyone.
I had to make it up to her. My foot lowered nearly to the floor as I sped up, racing for the motel. Praying I’d get there before anybody hurt Gigi.
I turned into the parking lot, relieved at finally arriving. The asphalt was cracked, filled with potholes and weeds. It didn’t look like anybody used the place, but there were a few cars here and there in the parking lot, and a few lights. Still, out of the dozens of rooms, only three or four were taken. I wondered at the seediness of it, trying not to imagine the sort of things that went on there. A whole other world, like Lance had talked about in his office. What did you do when you learned there was another world out there, one you didn’t even know about? Had I been driving past the motel at any other time, I wouldn’t have glanced in its direction, much less considered the lives of the people staying there. Or just passing through. How many stories like mine were playing out at that moment? I shivered at the thought.
Room two thirteen, he’d said. I looked for it in the dim light coming from the only working fixture in the parking lot. It was also the only room with a light in the window on the first level. I parked the car, my heart pounding. I felt sick to my stomach, the cereal I’d eaten threatening to come back up. I couldn’t sit staring at the room forever, but I dreaded going in. I dreaded what I would see.
There was no avoiding it. I pulled my purse out with me and slammed the car door shut. Might as well announce my presence.
I couldn’t help thinking about something similar. When I’d approached the door to the clubhouse, looking for Jamie. Had that really only been four days earlier? To think, I thought they were the threat to her. I’d had no idea. How naïve could a person be? It seemed unthinkable that I didn’t know how much evil there was in my town.
“You can do this,” I whispered, raising my hand to knock on the door. I pounded with the side of my fist, acting braver than I felt.
Movement behind the door. I held my breath. Please let her be okay. Please don’t let him hurt her. Please let her be okay. The door swung open.
“So. You’re the great Jamie.” His voice dripped condescension.
“Yeah, that’s me.” I couldn’t get a good look at him, backlit as he was by the lamp inside the room. “And you’re The Scarecrow.”
“You got it.” We stood there for a moment, looking at each other. I saw his eyes. His dark, angry eyes. Then my eyes shifted, and over his shoulder, I saw a bed. And Gigi. She was dressed, thank God.
“Let me have her,” I muttered, fists at my sides. “I’ll give you what you want, but I want her first.”
“You don’t make the rules,” he said. He almost whispered the words.
“So, what, you do? I don’t think so.”
“Think what you want,” he whispered. “I’m not here to bargain with you. Do you want her? You’re gonna do as I say.” In a flash, he took my arm and pulled me into the room, slamming the door. Locking it. With his other hand, he wrenched the purse from over my shoulder.