“Jessa’s been good for this place,” he said, running his fingers over the soft throw draped over the couch. “Where’s she at?”
“At work.” My spine stiffened.
Please God let her be at work.
“What can I do for you, Vince?” Leaning against the counter, I tried to keep my posture casual. Easy. Guys like Vince preyed on the weak. They devoured that shit for breakfast, chewing up and spitting out whatever was left. Which usually wasn’t much after he’d finished.
“Now there’s an idea.” His eyes glinted. “What can you do for me?”
“Look, man, I’m not—”
The door handle rattled, Jessa’s soft voice filtering inside. “Nix,” she called. “I’m home.”
Shit.
Vince rubbed his jaw, watching through hungry eyes as Jessa entered the trailer, a grocery bag tucked under her arm.
“I got din—Vince.” The blood drained from her face.
“Looking good, Jessa.”
“W-what are you doing here?”
“Came by to see Joe, but can’t deny it’s always good to see your face, dolcezza.”
“Nix, a little help.” She motioned to the bag, and I took it from her, setting it down on the counter. “We’re about to eat, Vince, if you want to join us?”
“I wanted to talk to Joe about a few things.” He raked his leering gaze down her body, and my fist clenched against my thigh. Jessa was beautiful. A good soul. Too fucking good for likes of my father and definitely too good for the likes of Vince Colombo. But the 9mm pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans kept my mouth shut.
Vince didn’t dick around. If you stepped out of line, he dealt with it. Consequences be damned.
I eyed my cell phone on the counter, contemplating trying to get a text to my old man. But Jessa caught my eye, shaking her head discreetly.
“Want me to call him?” Jessa said. “I’m sure he’ll come back and—”
“Actually, I think we can come to another arrangement. Joe owes me a favor or two.” He took a step toward her. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me collecting.”
“Come on, Vince,” I said. “Let me call him. He wouldn’t want—”
He turned his attention on me, and a chill ran through me. “Why don’t you go play with your toys, kid, and leave the grown-up talk to me and Jessa?”
“What the—?”
“Vince is right, sweetie.” She cut me off. “Why don’t you see if Zane wants to hang out?”
Jessa gave me a pleading look. Don’t do anything stupid, please. But I couldn’t bear the thought of Vince putting his dirty fucking hands on her. It was bad enough that my father treated her like shit.
“He’s busy,” I said, pulling to my full height. I wasn’t stacked like Vince, but I wasn’t a pussy either.
“Phoenix.” Jessa used her sharp voice, the one she usually reserved for the nights my old man came home drunk and smelling like cheap perfume. “Vince is right, you should—”
“No. No fucking way.” I stepped in front of her, shielding her. “I’m not about to leave you alone with—”
He whipped his pistol out, clicking off the safety and pointing it straight at my head. “You really don’t want to fuck with me, kid. Now I suggest you get the hell out of here so me and Jessa can settle your old man’s debt.”
“Nix, please,” Jessa clutched my back, her fingers trembling against my t-shirt. “It’s okay, sweetie. I can handle it.” Fear clung to her whispered words despite the conviction in them.
She would do this for my father. For me. And it fucking gutted me.
“What’s it gonna be, kid?” Vince pressed the barrel of the gun closer until the cool steel touched my head. Fear and adrenaline coursed through me. I didn’t want to leave her… to leave her like a lamb to the slaughter. But Vince Colombo wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet through my skull. And I wasn’t any good to her dead.
Fuck.
Fuck!
My body trembled, blood roaring between my ears. I wanted to roar, to throw my fists into his smug fucking face and protect Jessa. She deserved more, so much more than being used like a fucking whore all because my old man ran in dodgy circles.
“Nix…” she whispered again, nudging me gently.
Go, her touch seemed to say. It’s okay.
It wasn’t. Not by a long shot. But what choice did I have?
“Yeah, I’m out,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender.
“Right choice, kid. Now get the fuck out of here and don’t come back for an hour or so.”
Jessa stiffened, her fear a living, breathing thing brushing up against me.
Grabbing my cell phone and keys, I forced myself to move toward the door, glancing back at her. “I’ll see you soon, okay.”
Tight-lipped, unshed tears glistening in her eyes, she nodded.
And I slipped into the night, releasing a thin breath.
My cell phone taunted me. I could call the cops. Report a suspected assault. But it was The Row, I’d be lucky if they’d even send a cruiser. Add in Vince Colombo’s name and they’d run a fucking mile. Besides, ratting him out was as good as signing my death warrant.
So I did the only thing I could. Climbed in my car and started my own vigil, waiting until he left.
If I couldn’t be in there with her, it was the least I could do.
Time stood still.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Thirty.
Each long second was more painful than the last, a heavy weight crushing my chest. So heavy that every breath was a struggle.
I could imagine what he was doing to her. I’d heard my old man do it enough. Even witnessed it a couple of times.
My cell taunted me. I’d texted my father the second I’d gotten into my car giving him hell for Jessa’s predicament, but the bastard still hadn’t texted back. I snatched it up and contemplated texting Zane or Kye. But they would both want to come and back me up and I didn’t need things escalating when Vince finally emerged from the trailer.
Instead, I opened up an old message thread.
* * *
Me: I need you.
* * *
It was fucking stupid to text her. She wouldn’t respond, the number long disconnected. But Harleigh had always been the one person I could talk to about my father. And now she was gone.
Had been gone for nine long months.
But I still felt it, the void she’d left. The giant gaping hole in my chest.
* * *
Me: I know you’ll never see this, B. But I really need to talk to someone… need to… fuck, I don’t even know what I’m saying. You got out. You got out and I’m so fucking relieved. This place is bad, B. It wears you down and poisons your soul until there’s nothing left. How can I hate you for never looking back? I shouldn’t… But I do. Part of me hates that you made it out and I’m fucking stuck here, in this life.
* * *
Inhaling a shuddering breath, I exited out of the chat thread and threw my cell phone on the dash. But I’d opened that window, letting her ghost creep inside. I felt her here with me. Could imagine her big green eyes watching me, full of sympathy and understanding.