* * * *
Early morning sunlight blinds me and my heart drums in my ear as I creep down the tree-lined street, scanning each mailbox for the address Streak gave me yesterday. Thank God for his expert hacking abilities because I don’t know how I would have found this place, otherwise. Glancing down at the slip of paper in my hand, I reread the address one more time and scan the left side of the road. When I finally spot the little blue duplex with pink flowers planted in front of the windows, I pull over across the street and let out a breath. The building is run down and I wonder how little Julian must be paying his employees if Rosie can’t afford anything more than this.
Leaning back in the seat, I slide my sunglasses on my face and cross my arms over my chest, hoping this plan works. Rosie was less than enthusiastic about helping the last time I spoke to her but all I can do is hope that she’ll come around. If she doesn’t, I don’t know how else I’ll get the burner phone to Ivy. I’m also anxious to hear how Ivy is doing after more than a week of no word from my sister.
A black sedan pulls onto the street behind me and I watch it in the rearview mirror until it slows to a stop in front of the duplex. The windows are tinted and I can’t see inside so I wait with bated breath until Rosie steps out. I grab the burner phone out of the cup holder and open the door.
“Rosie!”
She glances over her shoulder and her blue eyes widen before she peeks down the street. “What are you doing here, Carly?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“You can’t be here,” she hisses, her gaze frequently drifting to the empty street behind me. Why is she so nervous? Would Julian really have her followed?
“Please, Rosie,” I plead, staying by my car to make her feel more comfortable. “It’s really important.”
She shakes her head. Her gaze flicks down the road again before focusing back on me. “I can’t be seen talking to you.”
“I’m begging you. I need your help to save my sister.”
She sighs, studying me for a moment and I can see the war in her eyes. Rosie wants to help but no doubt she’s scared after the things she’s witnessed in that house.
“We can’t talk here,” she says and relief overwhelms me, almost knocking me on my ass as I’m filled with hope.
“Okay. Where then?”
Rosie shoves her hands into the pockets of her sweater and spares another glance down the road. Streak was right. There is so much more to this than a domestic violence case and I’m anxious to figure out what it is.
“There’s a coffee house three blocks over. I go there every Monday morning and if I just happen to run into you there.” She shrugs and I get the message loud and clear, nodding my head.
“I’ll be there.”
Without another word, she turns and heads into the house as I slide behind the wheel and look up the coffee shop on my phone. After I set the GPS, I pull away from the curb and let out a breath. Finally, we have a little bit of progress. Now, I just need to convince her to help us.
My phone rings as I turn at the end of the street and I answer it, switching it over to speakerphone.
“Hey, baby. How did it go?” Chance asks.
“I’m not really sure yet. She didn’t want to talk at her house so I’m meeting her at a coffee shop a couple of blocks over.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t like this.”
“What do you think she’s going to do? Sell me out to Julian?”
“That’s exactly what I think, especially if it comes down to you or her. I wish you had let me come with you.”
I sigh as I make another turn. “If it’s really bothering you that much, I’ll text you the address of the coffee shop and you can sit outside.”
“Yeah, do that.”
I can already hear him rushing on the other end of the phone and I roll my eyes as I say goodbye and hang up. I know he’s worried, but I truly believe Rosie is a good person. She risked a lot to bring me the note, so she wouldn’t sell me out to Julian… at least, I hope not.
So, what if she did anyway? It’s not like he’s going to do anything to me. Then again, he could hurt Ivy. The thought makes my heart twist as I pull into a parking space in front of the coffee shop and text Chance the address.
No, I can’t let my thoughts go down that dark path.
Climbing out of the car, I scan the street even though I’m not really sure what I’m looking for and walk into the coffee shop. At the counter, the barista smiles at me.
“Hello, what can I get for you?” she asks.
“Large vanilla latte with a double shot.”
She nods and turns away to make my drink as I wring my hands together and glance out the window, looking for Rosie. The road is relatively clear and I don’t see her car anywhere so I sigh and turn back to the counter.
“Of all the coffee shops in this town,” a voice says behind me and I recognize it instantly, tensing as I turn to face Damian.
“Yes, what a coincidence.”
What the hell is he doing here?
“It would seem coffee shops are our thing.”
I force a smile to my face. “I wouldn’t say we have a thing. We barely know each other.”
“I would ask you to have coffee with me so we could get to know each other better but I have a feeling I’d get shot down… again.”
I nod, my smile feeling more strained. “Yes, well, I still have a boyfriend and he’ll be here any minute.”
As the words leave my mouth, the bell over the door rings and Chance walks in, looking every bit the sexy biker in his jeans and leather jacket. I fight back a smile.
“Hey, Princess,” he whispers, grinning as he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into a kiss that cranks the temperature of the room up a few degrees.
“Hey,” I say, breathless as he pulls away. Damian clears his throat and I jump, glancing over at him as I fight back a smile at his sour expression. I’m pretty sure he’s got the message now.
“Your coffee is ready,” he snaps, pointing to the barista as she holds the hot cup out in front of her.
“Thanks, Bud,” Chance says, squaring his shoulders a little bit, making it clear to me, at least, that he remembers Damian from dinner a few weeks ago. Chance hands a twenty to the barista and takes my coffee from her. “Keep the change.”
She beams and thanks him as we walk away from the counter. He leads me to a table in the corner and slides into the booth next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“What’s the fucking deal with that guy?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder to watch Damian storm out of the café, his expression murderous.
“I’m pretty sure my mother tried to play matchmaker like always and he’s not accepting rejection very well.”
“Fucking prick,” he growls, his gaze locked on Damian as he pulls away in his expensive sports car. Before I can say anything else, Rosie pulls in to one of the open spaces in front of the café. We watch her walk in and she spots us in the corner. She turns toward the counter and I hold my breath as she orders a coffee. After paying, she tentatively walks toward our table and slides into the booth across from us.