It’s silent for a while but we don’t hang up. Instead, we fill the space with talk about nothing.
“We’re just getting off the exit,” Hayden says a little while later.
I sit up taller, taking in the broken streetlamps, the flashing light of an all-night diner, the arrow pointing into the glaringly bright, empty place.
“It’s two blocks away,” Hayden says.
The hotel is more of a run-down motel that looks like it hasn’t been renovated since the seventies and I cringe at the thought that my baby sister is alone and scared here in one of these decrepit rooms.
“Is that you?” she asks as Hayden pulls into the parking spot next to one of two other cars there.
“It’s us. You can open the door.”
Two men climb out of that other car and Hayden kills the engine. I slide out of the passenger side and carry the bundle of clothes to the room and when I see Lizzie’s frightened face peer out from around the half-open door, I breathe a sigh of relief.
I look back to Hayden, who is watching me as one of the men talks, I guess filling him in.
Lizzie opens the door a little wider, remaining mostly behind it, and I enter.
“Percy!” she hugs me so tight it hurts.
I hug her back, feel the scratchy, threadbare towel she’s wrapped around herself. I pull back when she finally lets me, and I look at her.
Her eyes are puffy from crying but her makeup is gone, and I know Lizzie. She hasn’t even left her bedroom without a pound of makeup on in over a year. Her curly hair which she normally straightens hangs in ringlets around her shoulders and on her arm, I see the purplish bruises in the shape of a hand and one more high on her cheekbone.
I take her face in my hands. “Did they hurt you?”
Her breathing is shallow, and she wraps her arms around herself, shivering. I realize how cold it is in here.
“Get dressed. Let’s get out of here.”
She drops the towel and I’m relieved when I see she’s still wearing her panties and bra. She pulls on the sweater and yoga pants, which are a little big on her, but they’ll do. She bends down to put on the sneakers.
“I forgot socks,” I say.
She shakes her head as she straightens. “It’s okay.” She looks up at me. She’s just over five feet tall so I have a few inches on her. “And they didn’t hurt me like that.”
I nod, relieved.
There’s a knock on the door and Hayden pushes it open. He looks Lizzie over then runs his gaze around the room before turning his full attention to her again.
I see her swallow when he does and I think about how he looks, how big he is, how intimidating.
“What happened?” he asks.
She looks at me. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “This is Hayden Montgomery. You’ve met him before, I think.”
She nods, then turns to me. “Can we please go home?”
“Not until you tell me what happened,” Hayden says.
Lizzie looks like she’s just barely keeping it together.
I touch Hayden’s arm. “We can talk at home.” When he doesn’t move, I step between him and her and take his hands. “She’s scared.”
He drags his gaze from her to me then back. “One question. Who am I looking for?”
Now Lizzie does start to sob, and I wrap my arm around her and walk around Hayden to the SUV. I open the back door and help her in, then close it and go back to Hayden who is standing outside the motel room talking to one of his men who just lit a cigarette.
“Can we go home?”
“No. You’ll stay at the club. Both of you.”
29
Hayden
When we get to the club, Persephone and Lizzie disappear into one of the guest rooms. They emerge half an hour later and take a seat on the couch in my office. Lizzie’s hair is wet, so I assume she just showered.
I’m sitting behind my desk. I look Lizzie over. She seems younger than fifteen and looks at me like she doesn’t quite trust me. I don’t remember the last time I saw her, but it’s been years.
I walk around the desk and sit in the armchair across from the couch.
“Can we do this tomorrow?” Persephone asks.
“No.” I look at Lizzie who looks back at me.
“Hayden—”
“No, it’s okay. I’d rather get it over with,” Lizzie says.
“I’m glad you feel that way. Who were you with?”
“I told my sister already that I left with Marigold. We just went on a little road trip.”
“And Marigold is?”
“Her friend. She lives nearby,” Persephone answers for her.
“And where is Marigold now?”
“Back home,” Lizzie answers.
“You left with Marigold. So, it was just the two of you?”
She looks sheepish, glances at her sister, then back at me. “Yes.”
“Try again.”
“I don’t think she’d lie,” Persephone interjects.
“Room was paid for in cash and registered to Joe Blow,” I say. “Try again,” I tell Lizzie.
Persephone looks at her sister, surprised.
“We left together and met Matt,” Lizzie says.
“Matt?” I raise my eyebrows.
“A…friend of Marigold’s. From school. He drove us to Manhattan. We were just going to hang out for a couple of nights. Get away from things here. He had a deal on a hotel, and it sounded like fun.”
“What’s Matt’s last name and how old is he?” I ask.
“Johnson and I don’t know how old he is.”
“What would you guess? Your age?”
She shakes her head. “Older.”
“How much older?”
She quickly glances at her sister then back to me. “I don’t know. Maybe twenty.”
“And where were Matt and Marigold when you were at that motel?”
She hesitates, her attention suddenly entirely taken up by a fingernail.
“I asked you a question.”
“Lizzie, he just wants to help.”
Lizzie takes a breath in before answering. “We’d gone to a club. Matt and Marigold hooked up and I didn’t want to be in the way, so I stuck around after they left. Met someone there.”
“How did you get into a club?” Persephone asks. “You’re fifteen.”
“Matt has a friend in New York who makes fake IDs.”
“Matt sounds like a winner. You’ll stay away from him and this Marigold,” I say.
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I just did. This ‘someone’ you met, name?”
Her expression changes, darkens. “He said his name was Mike.”
“Matt, Mike, quite the night—”
“Hayden,” Persephone gives me a look.
“What’s Mike’s last name?”
“I never got it.”
“How old would you say Mike is?”
“Early twenties.”
“Lizzie!” Persephone exclaims.
“And Mike took you to the fancy hotel where we picked you up?”
She pulls her hands into her lap and drags the sleeves of the sweater down into her palms. She nods. “He got quiet in the car. Different than he was inside the club. I knew something was wrong when we left, but I didn’t know what to do. When we got to the motel, they were waiting.” Her expression changes as her eyes redden.