After a minute, and the assurance no one was awake, I popped the top of the Grey Goose and took a sip. Goosebumps danced down the length of my arms. I squeezed my eyes shut before I took a deep breath, capturing all the oxygen in my lungs. I tipped it once more into my mouth as my phone buzzed.
My ride had arrived.
With a final pour of vodka, followed by the burning of my throat, I put the liquor back into the cabinet. Using the back of my sleeve, I wiped my mouth.
As I stepped outside, a soft breeze rippled through my hair. I strode toward the woman in the car. For the first time in a long time, exhilaration coursed through my veins. Something terrible happened to Callie, and I was going to find out who hurt her.
Twelve
"Will you read me a story?" Callie asked.
"Callie, you've already taken your bath, had a second dessert and called your mom to say goodnight. I think it's time for bed," I said.
She giggled, her face illuminated beside the fairy lamp on her nightstand. "Please! Pretty please with sugar and raspberries on top?”
I rolled my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest. Callie made it nearly impossible to say no to her. With her sparkling eyes and pronounced dimples, not to mention her out-of-this-world manners, I found myself doing whatever she asked of me to an extent.
We'd already played the globe game several times because it was so hard to tell her no. The globe game consisted of us closing our eyes, spinning the globe and stopping it with our fingers. Wherever we landed, that's where we would travel. Callie always chirped about wanting to see the world, and I empathized with her because so did I.
"Okay, just one story. But then it's bedtime for real. No more excuses. No more last-minute requests. Understand?”
"Yes, Elle! I pinky promise," she said with a tone so sugary it hurt my teeth.
I sighed. Outside, the moon poked out from behind the clouds, its luminous glow blanketing Callie's bedroom floor. Down the street, I imagined my mom watching television while she waited for me to come home from babysitting darling little Callie. However, I didn't mind staying here later because it meant a few extra bucks in my pocket. I was saving up to buy Noah a special birthday gift. I saw a beautiful watch at Macy's. I just had to get it for him.
I sat beside Callie on her bed. A comforter covered in stars and unicorns was pulled tight to her chin as she eagerly awaited a story. I reached for the book on her nightstand, which we'd read one hundred times, but I supposed one hundred and one couldn't hurt. It was about a mouse and a cookie. Callie adored this one and usually asked for me to read it over and over and over. Tonight, she'd get one read-through, and then it was lights out.
I opened the book and turned to the first page. I read slowly but surely while showing Callie the pictures so she could follow along. She giggled in between her eyes fluttering open and closed. I knew it wouldn't be long before sleep took hold of the sweet girl before me. We spent most of the evening doing gymnastics in the backyard coupled with learning a new dance from a video she borrowed from the library.
I actually could have fallen asleep at any moment too. I never knew how kids possessed so much energy. They were like little bolts of lightning prancing around the earth.
After a few more pages, Callie's eyes closed and did not open. Subtle snores gently rumbled from her, and I couldn't help but smile. I watched a few other kids in the neighborhood, but Callie was undoubtedly my favorite.
I moved to ease myself from the bed, but as I inched toward its edge, Callie reached out for me.
"Please don't go," she whispered. "I don't want to be alone. I’m afraid of the dark!”
The girl knew how to tug at my heartstrings. A smile spread across my face.
"Okay, Callie girl. I won't leave, but you have to get some sleep, okay?"
"Uh-huh," she mumbled.
With Callie nestled underneath her blankets, I lay beside her on top of them. With her tiny fingers interlaced with mine, we fell asleep side by side, utterly content in each other's company.
Thirteen
"Where ya headed?" an older woman with reddish-brown hair asked from the front seat.
I exhaled softly, knowing she could see the address on her phone.
"The Hens' Den," I replied with a hiccup.
"Ahhh," Sandy said.
I caught her glance at me from her rearview mirror. Surely she wanted to get a closer look at her rider who requested to go to the only strip club in town. I looked away, turning toward the shadows blanketing the backseat of the car. Gazing out of the window, cookie-cutter houses passed by in a blur, so similar on the outside while different people and families lived in the inside.
However, most of the people in Keygate followed the same path: graduated from the local high school, either skipped college or opted for the community college instead of a four-year institution farther away. Many married and popped out a few kids before their twenty-first birthdays. Some of my classmates were already working through divorces according to social media.
There were outliers, though—the ones like me who chose a different path. And yet, I found my way back to Keygate regardless. In life, it didn't always matter the road you took because you'd end up exactly where you needed to be.
When I told my mom and dad about my plans to go to school outside Keygate and move, too, they couldn't quite understand.
"You have everything you need here, Elle," my dad said. "What's out there that you can't get here?”
Growing up in a small town and knowing nearly every person wasn't the life I wanted to choose for myself. I wanted something more, to be independent and see if I could make it on my own. Not to mention everything that happened with Noah, why would I want to stay in a place with a constant reminder of my heartbreak? I always told myself if I didn't like living away from Keygate, I could always come back. But I couldn't go back in time if I never took the chance.
Sandy remained quiet the rest of the ride, which I felt eternally grateful for. I wasn't in the mood for talking. Luckily she wasn't either.
Before long, she slowed down and parked the car just outside the Hens' Den. She put her wrinkled hand on the passenger's side headrest to turn and face me. She'd penciled in her eyebrows and painted her lashes with long, clumpy mascara. She gave a half-smile, which I returned reluctantly.
"Thanks for the ride," I said meekly.
"I'm on shift for another couple of hours. Find me in the app if you want me to come back and get ya. Okay?”
I nodded and exited the car. Sandy used her turn signal to return to the road. I watched her from the corner of my eye until her taillights disappeared in the darkness. In front of me, a burly bouncer with a leather vest and ripped jeans stood at the black door, chipped from years of wear and tear. He looked me up and down with a smirk. I was used to guys like this, and despite his teardrop tattoo and copious chains hanging from his waist, he didn't scare me.
"ID," he grunted.
"No problem." I pulled out my ID and handed it to the man. His bald head reflected the grapefruit-colored neon sign above the door. The sign flickered every few seconds while the buzz of the neon hummed like a dozen honey bees swarming my earlobes.