Page 180 of Trailer Trash

Until—

A text appears on my phone.

Unknown: Hey. This is Jagger. I got your number from my mom. Killian called. This time, I got an address.

I have never hit the call button so fast.

“What’d he say?” I blurt the second Jagger answers.

“He called me. He wasn’t making sense. I told him you were alive, like I always do, but he didn’t believe me.”

“Do you know where he’s at?”

“Yes, I finally got him to tell me. I’ll go with you. It’s a bad area. Send me your address and I’ll pick you up.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

Relief hits so hard I almost sob.

I’m going to see Killian.

I only hope there’s enough of him left to recognize me.

49

Harlow

Three weeks after River shot me, get into Jagger’s car still feels like tearing myself open. Every little movement hurts.

He still wears his work scrubs. Part-time doctor, part-time good brother.

We drive into an older neighborhood. The houses are small. Cars are parked everywhere — on the sidewalks, in the yards. Some have no tires. Cats cross the street, and the streetlights above flick on, greeting the night.

Jagger parks in front of a brick house. We knock at the front door, but nobody answers. He turns the doorknob and the door creaks open, loud and alarming.

Inside, the walls are covered in stickers, posters, and pirate flags. Beads hang from archways. Classic rock hums through the house.

We step into a living room. A shirtless elderly man slumps in a recliner. A used syringe lies on the carpet beside him, but his chest rises in slow, steady breaths.

“Oh my gosh,” I murmur.

Jagger presses two fingers to the man’s neck.

“He’s breathing,” he says before urging me forward.

A woman cooks in the kitchen. She glances at us, then calls out, “Coop! You got people.”

Coop doesn’t answer. Maybe he’s the guy in the chair.

“Do you know where Killian is?” I ask.

She takes a drag of her cigarette. “I think he’s in one of the bedrooms. I don’t fuckin’ know.”

He’s here.

I move past Jagger as fast as my battered body allows. I turn, facing a dark hallway. Doors are on either side, but at the end, one is ajar with a light on. I step forward, careful and steady.