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“That's just not true, sweetie,” I said. “If he goes away – as well as his associates – they won't be able to hurt you.”
“I want to tell you – for Trevor – but, I can't.”
“Do you have any siblings, Nicki?”
She cocked her head and stared at me, seemingly surprised by the change of topic.
“I have a little sister,” she said. “Lily.”
I nodded. “Pretty name,” I said. “What if you don't tell me who this guy is and he's allowed to continue selling drugs to kids like you? What if next time though, it's Lily? And what if she ends up like Trevor?”
I felt like an asshole of the highest order for not just guilt-tripping her, but for using her soon-to-be-dead boyfriend against her to get what I wanted – a name. But, it also didn't negate the fact that what I said is true. What if it were her little sister who stuck a needle in her arm and ended up on a ventilator next time?
The only way to prevent it was to shut it down at the source – which meant getting a name.
“She's not going to do drugs,” Nicki said, sounding shocked that I'd even suggest such a thing.
I looked her in the eye and held her gaze. “I bet you said the same thing about yourself not all that long ago,” I said. “And yet, here you are in my ER. You're lucky that you're not like Trevor right now. Very lucky, Nicki.”
She looked down at her hands, pricing at lint on the blanket. “I know,” she said softly. “I – I'm scared.”
“If you cooperate with the police, they can protect you, sweetie,” I said. “And they'll be able to lock this man up, so he can never hurt you again.”
I could see the torment on her face and the debate raging in her mind. To tell me or to not tell me? That was the question. Several long moments passed and still, she said nothing. So, I decided to force the issue.
“Nicki,” I said, “you have the power to stop anybody else from ending up like Trevor right now. You can put this man in prison, so he can never sell poison to kids like you, ever again.”
The silence stretched out between us for several more minutes. She looked at her hands, picked at her nails, ran a hand through her hair, and sat there, shaking her leg beneath the blanket, the fear and indecision on her face more than clear.
Eventually though, I saw a steely determination rise in her eyes. I saw anger. Rage. Fury. Probably thinking about Trevor and the fact that he was likely going to die in that bed a few doors down.
“I don't know his real name,” she finally said. “I only know him as Oso.”
The name rang a bell in my head, though I couldn't place it at that moment. I just knew I knew it from somewhere.
“He's big,” Nicki said. “Six-five, at least. Wide and muscular. He's got black eyes, long, black hair, and a huge, bushy black beard. He's covered in tats but has this one on his chest – it's of a bear. It takes up most all of his chest.”
As she described the man, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place. I just didn't like the picture it was adding up to.
“You're sure about that?” I asked, hoping I was wrong.
She nodded. “Yeah, I'm positive,” she replied. “I'll never forget him.”
I let out a long breath, knowing where I knew the name and the man from – he was part of my father's crew. One of my dad's most loyal and trusted friends.
Knowing one of my father's friends was behind this troubled me more than I could ever possibly say. A feeling of cold dread and a dark, oppressive rage, radiated through my body as I tried to figure out what I was going to do with all of that.
Chapter Eleven
Elijah
“How much I owe you?” I asked, feeling like I was going to collapse as soon as I walked into my apartment.
Finding myself in a bind, needing to work, and not knowing what to do with Aubree, I'd turned to Diane for some help. She'd given me the number of a babysitter she trusted. Beth was a college-aged girl who could handle watching the baby while I was at work. Her pay took up a good chunk of my tips most nights, but it was about the best I could do.
I refused to reach out to Hannah too soon – even for help. Call me stubborn, but I knew she'd just push me away. I wasn't going to play those games anymore. Better to let her come to me on her own time, when she was ready. I wasn't going to force the issue. Not at the moment, anyway.
Beth pushed her glasses up higher on her nose as she counted the number of hours she'd watched Aubree.
