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“I saw her in Vinnie’s one day. She was acting strange and just caught my attention for some reason. I couldn’t stop staring at her.” He pointed at me. “It was the same day you rushed in after my mom showed up.”
“That was the day the chick was in the alley. I thought she was blonde too. She had on a hoodie and shorts and sneakers. I couldn’t see her face.”
“If it was the same girl, she had pale skin, white-blonde hair. She looked like a runner.”
“Green eyes,” I said without thinking.
“I wasn’t that close to her, but maybe. How’d you see her eyes if you were in a dark alley?”
I swallowed hard. “Because she’s Darren’s daughter.”
“Darren’s…” He gripped my shoulder, tense fingers digging in. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“They’re using her to get to me.” I rubbed my suddenly gritty eyes. It wasn’t all that late, but God, I was exhausted. The kind of tired sleep wouldn’t help. “Or else she wanted to get to me and they hooked up somehow.”
Before he could question me further, I told him about Lorenzo’s visit the other day. His hand on my shoulder got tighter and tighter, until I wondered how he remained seated at my side.
“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve killed him for daring step through the goddamn door.”
“He wants us to make a move. He’d be happy if I did something else, so he could get me where he wants me.”
“Which is where, exactly?” he asked, his voice like a whip.
“They wanting to build some kind of chick fighting empire. I don’t get it. I don’t want to. But Evie’s a part of it. I don’t know if she’s in their pocket, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”
“In their pocket how?”
“Lorenzo demanded I throw the fight tomorrow. Evie’s going to go far, and they want to back her. They’re putting big money on her winning, and if I lose, it’ll push her up the ladder faster, I guess. It’s all about green to them. Nothing else matters.”
Certainly not me or my sister.
A tool, Mia. That’s what you are to me.
He pushed a hand through his hair, then left his forehead pressed into the heel of his palm. “Do I have to ask what you said?”
“I told him to go to hell. Then I threw a shoe at his head.”
Tray’s head came up, his expression incredulous. “What happened to not doing anything to him so he can’t get you where he wants you?”
I shrugged. “The door had already closed behind him.”
“Jesus, Mia.”
“That’s not all,” I said quietly.
“Of course it isn’t. Because death threats and stalkers and fuck all knows what else couldn’t possibly be enough.”
“He threatened to harm you if I didn’t throw the fight.”
“Shocker. Typical scare tactic of a pussy in Italian leather.”
“Gorgeous Italian leather,” I corrected, then shook myself. “Anyway. I had something on my screen. Your screen. I was using your laptop.”
“You know that never ends well.”
“I do. It didn’t end well here either. There are so many missing kids. I never realized.”
The stories poured out of me. The grainy pictures, the snippets I’d read. Lainey Peterson. “It hit me hard, imagining her wandering around Chicago, scared and alone. Far from her home. Sometimes when kids escape, they don’t know where to go. Or if their attacker lets them go, it’s often in a city nowhere near where they live. Having to find someone to tell what happened to you…it’s almost as bad as the original attack.”
