But when I do open my eyes, it's my own hand that's petting my hair. I rip my arm down and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Poppet is asleep across from me. Watching her, I'm struck by loneliness. It's been so long since we stayed up late and whispered secrets and wishes for our future and, sometimes, recounted memories from our past.
Pulling on a pair of jeans, I head toward Cain's place in the basement. I find him awake on the foot of his mattress. When he sees me, he opens the cage door without hesitation and takes me into his arms. It's a quick hug, like he did it without thinking. And before I know it, he's put distance between us again.
"Is everything okay?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No. I know where Ellie is. Or at least, I think I do."
Cain raises an eyebrow.
"Want to take a drive?"
He opens his mouth to answer, and then his brow furrows. He takes my chin in his hand and turns my face to the left, examines my cheek, my neck. "What happened here?"
I pull away. "Nothing."
"Domino, tell me." His voice is urgent, furious.
"Madam Karina slapped me. She was drunk." I don't tell him the rest. It's right there for him to see. Cain starts to respond, but I continue. "I have to get out of here. That was my plan for a while, to earn enough to get a place and buy myself time to find a job. But I can't wait any longer. She's cracking, Cain. Mr. Hodge is making her crazy, and she's freaking out about losing anyone else."
Cain stares at my skin like he can will the bruises away. From between clenched teeth, he says, "She's always been like that. Afraid that people will run out on her."
"Will you take me into Pox?"
He hesitates for a beat as if he's weighing the old Cain, who would never risk upsetting Madam Karina, against the new Cain, who cares enough about someone else to come out of hiding. In the end, he pulls on black combat boots and motions for me to head up first.
Outside, the phantom vehicle waits for us, patient as death. It's a stroke of luck that the car hasn't been returned. Cain starts to get in the driver's seat, but I beat him to the punch and take the keys from his hand.
"You know how to drive?" he asks in a whisper.
I nod. It's been a while, but my mom taught me before I left home. Slipping behind the wheel, my senses spark alive. It feels like I've been asleep, and only now have I thought to wake up and see the world for what it is.
I take the car out onto the road slowly and drive a short distance before accelerating. Glancing back in the rearview, I assure myself no new lights have flipped on.
It doesn't take long to arrive in Pox's town square, and never once does Cain question what we're doing. Once, briefly, he looks over and stares at me in the dark. But that's it. I navigate down the roads until I find what I'm looking for. The same place we passed on the way to get ice cream.
Pox County Municipal
A town this size probably doesn't have a separate police station, so I park outside the two-story brick building and kill the ignition. A single light buzzes over the glass door, and moths throw themselves against the intoxicating light.
I get out of the car, and Cain follows me without a word. My palms begin to sweat when we step inside because, in my eagerness, I never thought through how we'd enter the jail area without being questioned. But the woman behind the counter is painting her nails a bubblegum shade of pink to match the teddy bears on her sweater. She hardly glances up as we pass by.
"The jail cells?" Cain asks me under his breath when we're a safe distance away.
"Yeah, do you know where they are?"
He waves me along. "Follow me."
We stride down linoleum hallways scuffed black, and Cain pauses outside a heavy door that reads Police in an arch across a glass window insert. Cain peers through and holds a finger to his lips. The we crouch to the floor, and he brings his mouth to my ear. I shiver from the unexpected touch. "There's an officer on duty. He'll go in the back at some point."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've delivered stuff to Eric before, and they rarely keep anyone up front at night. Too little happens around here."
Just as Cain predicted, the deputy sitting behind the front desk eventually moves to a door on his left and exits. We wait five minutes to ensure he's gone to the lounge and isn't returning. Then we go inside. Cain pushes a button beneath the desk and the door on the opposite side clicks.
I grab the handle and smile when it opens.
"I've always wanted to push that button," Cain says with a sly grin.