HARDCORE: Storm MC(212)

I could also almost see the wheels turning in his head. Imagining what he would do with a hundred thousand dollars. What would somebody like him do with that kind of money anyway? I couldn’t begin to imagine. I saw his excitement, though. Just under the surface. He was wondering what to do with us overnight. Should we stay there? Go somewhere else? He had to stay in control, didn’t he? Where could he keep us under his control?



Just like that, his eyes clouded over. He went from excited to flat in the blink of an eye “No. It’s not gonna happen.” He sat back down, facing away from me. My heart sank.



“What? No, you can’t do that. What’s wrong?”



He didn’t turn around. “It’s not just up to me. I made promises to people. I can’t take them back.”



“Promises? To what people?”



“The people you’re going to, dumb bitch. Who do you think I’m talkin’ about? They’re not gonna be happy if I tell ’em they’re gonna lose out on the money you would make.”



I hadn’t thought about that. “I could give them money, too.”



“You don’t know how much you would make for them. They wouldn’t go for it. Sorry.” He shook his head. “I could’ve used that money, too.” Then he shrugged like it was just another day at the office. Our lives hung in the balance and he didn’t care.



Why should he? Once we’re gone, we’re gone. He never has to think about us again. I clenched my teeth, commanding myself not to cry.



“How can you do this?” I whispered. “Selling people. How?”



“It’s just business.” He didn’t turn to face me again. The tone of his voice told me there was nothing else to say, and that I’d better stay quiet for the rest of the time we were together.



I looked down at Gigi, still sleeping in my arms. Her thumb in her mouth. I didn’t know she sucked her thumb—maybe it was an unconscious comfort thing. She needed to soothe herself, even when she slept. The poor little thing.



The sight of her gave me strength. I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t. Not when she hung in the balance.



Where are you, Lance? Damn it, why hadn’t I called him? Or at least texted him the information for the motel? Something, anything. How could I be so blind, so stubborn? What did I think I was going to do, rush in and save her single-handedly?



I questioned myself just as I had while I was in the car. How could I think I could save her? How could I think I was good enough even to take care of her when I showed such poor judgment? The Scarecrow might have been the most repulsive creature I’d ever seen, but he had a point. I thought I was a hero. I had a complex. I wanted to save Gigi’s life from the minute I met her and realized she was so broken and sad. I took her under my wing, determined to protect her. A lot of good I had done. If anything, I’d made her life even worse. If it wasn’t for me being selfish, she might still be safe.



My bag was still on the floor, in the corner by the door. I looked at it, and at him. I’d heard it buzzing over and over since getting to the motel. Every time it made a sound, I jumped. Lance was trying to find us, I knew he was. Only how would he know where to go?



If he was going to talk with Rae, she might have told him something. Maybe she knew where The Scarecrow hid out?



At the thought of her name, my eyes went wide. I gasped so loudly, I woke Gigi. She stirred, looking up at me with sleepy eyes. I smiled as reassuringly as I could, stroking her hair, trying to get her to go back to sleep. All the while, I knew how The Scarecrow had found her.



I knew how he got my phone number, too. That had been bothering me on and off ever since he called. How did he know how to reach me?



Rae knew my number. Rae gave it to him.



I wanted to scream. How could she do it? How could she be so cold, so cruel? So thoughtless? What was the price? What did he threaten her with? Death? Nothing would have made me tell him where my daughter was. Did she know when she told him what he planned to do? Did she tell him anyway? I squeezed my eyes shut, determined not to cry.



How could a person have a sweet little girl and care so little about them? I would never understand it, and I’d never forgive her.



Gigi stirred fretfully. She opened her eyes, looking up at me. “Oh. I thought this was a dream.” She sounded so unhappy, it made me ache for her.



“I’m sorry. No dream.”



“When do we get to leave this place?”



The Scarecrow snorted. I cut my eyes in his direction—I didn’t need his snide laughter or remarks—and looked down at her again.