Pieces Of Heaven (Heaven & Hell #2)(15)

Chapter Fifteen


Marissa


I'm immediately disappointed when we enter the food bank. I already know we won't get anything here since there are only four people in tonight. Walking to the counter, I see the same two volunteers I see every single Friday. Pulling Lori's picture from my pocket, I ask them if they've seen her lately. I get the same sad smile I've gotten from them every time along with the shake of their heads in apology. I take the picture back, looking down at it. Her smile is so bright, and I remember back to when it was taken. The two of us went to the local fair and stuffed ourselves sick with funnel cake, fried Oreos, and corn dogs in between rides on the Ferris wheel.

I see Mick talking to the only other people in there, both of them shaking their heads no. He pulls out his card, giving one to each of them. Walking up behind him, I hear him saying, "Tell your friends there is a five-thousand-dollar reward."

I grab his hand and pull him outside. "Why the hell would you tell them that? I don't have that kind of money!" I storm off in the direction of the homeless shelter two blocks down.

"Hey, wait a second before you go off half-cocked. You want your daughter back. I want to bring her back. The only way these people will keep their eyes open is if there is something in it for them. Not because you're cute, or you wiggle your ass, or that it's a sad fucking story, but because that money can help get them out of the hole they're in." I listen to him knowing that he's making sense, until he continues by saying, "I'm giving this reward, not you."

"No. This isn't your problem."

"That is where you're wrong, Marissa. It's your problem, and you're my woman, which makes it my problem. I have the cash. Let me do it."

"Fine, but I'll pay you back. I don't know when, but I will," I tell him, making a mental note to add another debt to my growing list of them. Grabbing his hand, we make our way to the homeless shelter, stopping people we pass on the street and showing them Lori's picture.

When we approach the shelter door, the man standing out front tells us that it's full for the night. I'm just about to turn around when Mick pulls out his badge and says, "I'd like to go in there and ask around to see if someone has seen her daughter."

The man just nods his head and tells us to check in at the front desk. Once we're signed in, I follow the woman as she leads us into the room with all the bunk beds. Looking at the layout and seeing that it hasn't changed, I work my way from one bed to the next, not coming up with any leads. Nothing. No one has seen her. After we asked everyone there, and some people twice, we walk out into the cool night.

"Why can't we just catch a break?" I ask the universe.



       
         
       
        

"It'll come when we least expect it." He shrugs as he looks at his feet and puts his hands in his pockets. He looks back up at me and says, "I've been told God works in mysterious ways. Bella, Jackson's woman, tells me that all the time. She's one of the nicest, kindest, strongest women I know. You'll meet her Sunday."

"What do you mean, I'll meet her Sunday?" I ask him.

"Jackson and Bella invited us over. I said yes." He takes my hand, leading us back to the car. "Where to now?" he asks, but he knows the answer.

"The pier," I respond, looking straight ahead. I know that this time of night it will be hard to see faces, so I check my phone, hoping I have enough battery left to shine the flashlight app on Lori's face.

We don't talk as we head to the warehouse by the pier. I'm dreading doing this with him. I know he knows danger, but he hasn't seen me put myself in danger. He hasn't seen me leave there with my knees bloody from being pushed down. He hasn't seen me walk away with scratches and bruising from being attacked by a drunk old man thinking I was stealing his dried up fruit.

He turns off the car and looks at me. "Remember what I said," he warns before he gets out of the car.

We park on the side of the building where there are a couple of beat-up cars. You can't really see much since almost no light from the street is illuminating the area. Mick leads the way with me following him and holding his hand.

When we get to the open door at the side of the warehouse that people go in and out of, he opens it slowly, the creaking noise loud in the quiet night.

Once we make it inside the warehouse, I have to blink my eyes a couple of times to get them used to the darkness around us. The smell of urine and smoke makes my eyes burn a little. Looking over at Mick, I see him stand taller. It's almost like he's in a defense mode. I squeeze his hand a touch to make him look at me. The minute our eyes meet, my blood runs cold. Gone are the warm eyes that look at me, and in place are the hard eyes of someone who would shoot and ask questions after.

"We are going to seriously have a discussion after we leave here." His voice is tight, the veins in his other arm bulging with the force of the fist his hand has curled into. I don't answer him right now, afraid that he'll turn around and leave.

We walk farther in as I take in our surroundings. You'd think I would be prepared for this by now, but I'm not. The room is vast and open, with windows high up on the walls all around the room, some broken, some still intact. The walls are cinder blocks, the floor is cement littered with cans, papers, old pizza boxes, and other trash, but what is most shocking is the number of used needles lying around. Mick looks down as he makes his way over to the couple in the corner. They're lying on a thin, badly stained mattress with holes in it. The couple is laid out haphazardly, like they just collapsed on the mattress. The girl's ass is on full display, and the guy's pants are unbuttoned and barely covering him. If we had come in a few seconds earlier, no doubt we would have walked in on them going at it. The girl's blond hair is matted and dirty, her fingernails bitten down almost to the quick. Her face is streaked with dried blood from scabs that she must have been picking at. Mick kicks the mattress softly so they stir. Both of them groan. 

"Have you guys seen Lori?" Mick's voice breaks up the silence of the room.

The girl blinks, and her dazed eyes open. "Baby, you want a blow job?" She looks straight at Mick, but her eyes lose focus, and her head lolls against the mattress as she lets out a groan and passes out again.

Not waiting any longer, he pulls me from that corner, and we walk to the next group of people, who are gathered around a metal garbage can lit with fire. Five men are standing around drinking from a brown bottle that is being passed between them.

"Hey, we were wondering if you have seen this girl?" I say, holding up my phone to the picture.

All five men don't even bother looking and just shake their heads. Mick pulls me away to the next group.

A woman with a cart full of what looks to be knick-knacks is lying on a blue tarp. Her clothes are tattered, and her shoes are held together with tape and look to be about four sizes too big. Socks are on her hands to keep her warm.

Mick squats down next to her. "Ma'am," he says, and my heart melts.

The fact that he treats everyone with respect and dignity despite their circumstances is something I hadn't noticed about him before. The woman stirs and sits up. Her eyes open and tell the tale of a woman who has seen better days. Her dull green eyes appear almost gray.

"Have you seen this girl?" he asks her, grabbing the picture from me and showing it to her.

She looks at it for a good minute, making me hope that she has seen her, but she shakes her head no. Mick gets up and digs into his pocket, coming out with a ten-dollar bill. "Thank you for your help," he says as we head to the far corner of the room. The corner where my nightmares come from.

A couch is thrown up against the wall. Its cushions are missing, and burn holes are evident all over the couch. A squeaking sound is coming from it; probably some rats that have claimed it as their shelter. A man is sitting in the corner of the couch. A woman on her knees between his legs is sucking his dick. His head is resting against the back of the couch. The woman is wearing a filthy, faded, formerly white summer dress. Her breasts hang out of the top. The back hem of the dress barely covers her ass, and her flip-flops are a few steps from being worn out.

Mick clears his throat, hoping to get their attention. I turn my head to the side, taking in the chair beside the couch where another man is watching the show on the couch while he masturbates. At the sound of Mick's throat clearing, his eyes swing my way, and he smiles a greasy, rotten-toothed smile at me. I move closer to Mick. He clears his throat again, and the man finally opens his eyes.

"I paid for thirty minutes. It's not over yet," he says then tilts his head sideways to check me out. "How much for that bitch behind you?" he asks as his hand pushes the girl's head further down on his cock. The sound of her gags echo around us.

"You seen this girl?" he asks him, not approaching, just holding up Lori's picture for him to see.

"Shit, I fucking wish. I'd pay full price for that pussy."

The girl pulls her mouth off of his flaccid penis, spit still clinging to her chin. Her brown hair, stringy and oily, sticks to her head. Her eyes are sunken in, and old black makeup runs down her face. Her eyes are vacant, like she's not really there, and the track marks on her arms tell me that she probably isn't. She's maybe eighteen, if not younger. My heart breaks for this girl's family, who is probably looking for her and feeling the same worry that I feel for Lori.