“You have no business being in my home, let alone at this hour of the night,” he grumbled as he strolled over to his kitchenette and flipped on the coffee maker. “I should call the police, boy.” But his actions went against his words. Deep down, Lynch cared about Mia. And he wouldn’t call the police on me because I was the only other person who gave a damn about his daughter.
“Please! Call them,” I challenged with my hands in the air. I’d called earlier, and they weren’t much help. But if the dean of the reformatory school called, maybe they’d see the importance of a missing girl.
Lynch shoveled coffee grounds into his pot, mumbling incoherently to himself and ignoring my frustration. “I talked to Bruce. Mia has a history of running off, especially when things get too hard. Mia running away on release day seems to be in her character. I wouldn’t be surprised if she happened to get cozy with someone other than you, took off, and now shacking up somewhere,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his balding head, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, kid.”
Travis said the same bloody thing, but I knew Mia. “If you’d taken the time to get to know your daughter, you’d see she isn’t like that anymore.” Mia was smart. She wouldn’t have given up so quickly at the first chance of running away. Not on me, and not on herself. Not after everything she’d been through. She had court back in the states in a week. If she didn’t show, who knows where they would send her next.
Lynch pulled a mug from the cupboard and turned to face me. “I knew her mother, and her mother ran off back to Pennsylvania without so much as an explanation. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Mia is just like her. She may have my eyes, but everything else is all her mum.”
Mia never spoke much of her mum, but this didn’t change anything. “You’re wrong about her,” I stood and leaned my elbows over the kitchen counter, separating us, “Somethings not right. I can’t put my finger on it, but something went down at your school. I can feel her. I can’t explain it, but she’s in trouble.”
“You don’t look so good, Oliver. You look tired.”
The wanker was deflecting.
My jaw clenched. “I’m fine,” I gritted out.
The coffee pot beeped, and Lynch turned away from me. “If you want my advice, go home. She’ll turn up eventually. Bruce said he’d call if he hears from her. Until then, there’s nothing I can do.”
“So, that’s it? No missing person’s report? You don’t even care enough to notify authorities?”
Lynch laughed, pouring himself a cup, then sprinkled in sugar. His nonchalant behavior only set every irritated nerve on fire, and he brought the mug to his mouth before saying, “You honestly believe anyone is going to take Mia seriously with her history? The authorities won’t give a missing person’s report the time of day. Go home, Oliver. If a week passes and she doesn’t show, I’ll go to the police. Until then, move on with your life. I’m sure she’s just fine. Do you have somewhere to go?”
My heart broke for Mia and how little she was cared about by the people surrounding her. How could they not see how much darker everyone’s world was without her in it? I looked off to the side, unable to lock eyes with the man who created Mia, brought her life, when there was so much anger in mine. “Ethan Scott. Where is he?”
“Probably home, sleeping. The same thing you should be doing at this hour.”
Getting Scott’s address out of Lynch would be like pulling teeth. Jinx would have no problem giving me the information if he had it.
I drove around Guildford, passed by Dolor, and by three in the morning, the car turned back into the car park of the motel. My thoughts twisted, believing my brother had, somehow, something to do with this. It had Oscar’s name written all over it.
As I pulled into a parking space, I grabbed my mobile and looked up visiting hours for the prison. My eyes glazed over as I read the small text on the screen. An eight-day advanced notice was needed to arrange a meeting with a prisoner. Eight days was too long, but I rang High Down Prison anyway to book an appointment with Oscar. Office hours were closed, and I made a mental note to ring back at nine in the morning.
I never planned to see Oscar again, putting him in the past and keeping him there. But Oscar had always found a way to wedge himself in my life, time and time again. He might have been able to round up a few boys to take Mia in exchange for me. He wanted something from me that I would never give up before, but if Mia was on the line, he could bloody have it. I’d give anything in exchange for her freedom, including my life.
My phone rang, and I immediately answered with my heart in my throat.
“Find him?” Jinx’s boom box of a voice rumbled into the mobile against the beat of the bass in the background.
“Yeah, it was no use.” I stared at the motel room door from the car. Sleep would be impossible and a waste. “Do you know where Ethan Scott lives?”
“Nah,” he grumbled as a girl whined beside him, vibrating my eardrums. “We don’t talk to Scott.”
“What do you mean, ‘We don’t talk to Scott,’” I wiped the exhaustion from my eyes, “Where are you?”
“I’ll send over the address, and you can meet me. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
After Jinx sent the address over, the drive had only been twenty minutes before parking outside a gated property. With my arms crossed over my chest, I posted against the vehicle as music and bodies spilled from inside the house. Red cups, tea lights, and different shades of skin tones decorated the pristine lawn. Everyone was partying, laughing, and having a proper time, living life without a care in the world. But for me? My head spun, and panic surged with every passing second wasted waiting out here in the cold for his arse. I shouldn’t have come, but desperation pulled me under. If Jinx had information on Scott, I needed to know—anything that would lead me closer to Mia.
Finally, Jinx spotted me from the large doorway with a lazy, drunken smile plastered over his face, lights bouncing off his gold teeth. He walked toward me with a girl under his arm. She was tiny against his broad build. Instantly, she made me feel uneasy with her red lipstick smeared and a cigarette between her smoke-stained fingers, forcing me into a time I’d tried so hard to forget.
The window doesn’t close all the way, leaving a small crack where the cold slips through. It’s dark outside, and the buzz from traffic turns the city into a nightlife musical, slipping a lullaby through the window along with the chill. It drowns out O’s snoring. He gets to sleep in the bed with mum. But, Mum isn’t home yet.
I turn the page of the book the lady with kind brown eyes gave to me from the library. She said I should choose another from the children’s section, but those bore me. The two clutched in my hands were thick, and the text on the back promised a mind-provoking change within my heart, which could possibly change the world. I wanted to be a part of that, and I’d fly through both books this week. She said I could only choose one and come back for the other, but only after I returned the first book—in the same condition as I took it. She didn’t trust me, but I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t trust a young kid with a piece of history either. Trust is earned.