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“Did she stay on that path?” Knox wants to know.
“Seems like it. She just kept walking… walking… walking. Ah! There. Crappy dive bar called O’Malley’s. She went in, and… it doesn’t seem like she left.”
“Got it,” Knox says.
He hangs up the phone without so much as a thank you, and I gun it down the street as he looks up the bar’s location on his phone. It’s late as fuck now, and the glowing numbers on the clock in the car tick closer to four in the morning as Knox tells me where to go.
We finally pull up outside a run-down looking dive bar. I park a few doors down, and we get out, making our way inside.
The bar is almost entirely empty, and a new wave of worry floods me as I scan the dim interior for signs of her.
Did she slip out the back? Was Harv following the wrong girl through his pieced-together snippets of security footage?
But then I spot a fall of silver hair near the back of the place.
I elbow Knox and jerk my chin toward her, and we start in that direction. Once we’re close enough, I can see that it truly is River.
She’s slumped over a table at a booth in the back, and a man with greasy hair and wandering hands is sitting next to her, trying to feel her up.
Rage lights in my soul, building off the anger that was already there. As one, Knox and I stride toward River and the slimy fucker who sits close to her.
His hand is on her side, sliding up her shirt slowly, like he’s worried if he moves too fast, she might wake up. He’s so absorbed in it that he doesn’t even notice the two of us before it’s too late.
I grab him and yank him away from River and out of the booth. He splutters, trying to say something, and the smell of alcohol hits me like a wave. Before he can get a word out, I shove him over to Knox.
Knox gives him a savage grin that would shake even the hardest people to their core. He grabs the fucker’s face roughly and gets close to him.
“Seems like someone missed it when the rest of us learned about not touching people without their fucking permission,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “So why don’t you come with me, and we’ll have a little fucking chat about manners.”
The guy tries to argue, but Knox’s grip is unbreakable as he drags the asshole outside through the back door.
“Hey,” the bartender calls, leaning over the bar to look at me as the door slams shut behind Knox and his prey. “Not in my fucking bar.”
I shoot him a cold look, letting him see how unimpressed I am by his attempt to act like he gives a shit.
“You seem to be pretty fucking good at ignoring what’s going on in your bar,” I tell him with a snarl in my voice. “So you can ignore everything that’s about to happen too.”
I’m not even sure what my face looks like in this moment, but it’s probably reflecting the murderous anger I feel. The bartender stares at me for a second, and I wait to see if he’s going to press the issue.
He doesn’t. Instead, he shrinks back behind the bar and starts wiping it down, not making eye contact with me.
Good. That leaves me free to focus on River.
She seems almost catatonic, her eyes closed as she remains slumped over the table. Gently, I reach for her, and she doesn’t even try to fight me off. That’s a sure sign that she’s out of it. She’s punched people in the face for less. I tug her from the seat, and she comes with me, stumbling to her feet.
Her eyes open, but it hardly makes any difference. It’s like there’s nothing behind them. She stares blankly, unseeing, and my stomach churns with dread. I don’t know if it’s the booze or everything that’s going on inside her that has her almost dead to the world, but either way, I don’t fucking like it.
“Come on,” I murmur to her, pulling her along.
She follows unquestioningly, which is also a bad fucking sign. I can’t count on her even knowing that it’s me, and all I can think about is what could’ve happened if someone else had tried to pull her away.
Would she have gone with them just as easily? And what would they have done to her?
I shake that thought from my head, because there’s no use dwelling on the fucked up shit that could’ve happened. If I think about it, I’ll get so fucking pissed that it’ll eclipse everything else, and River needs me to be here with her in this moment.
So instead, I lead her down the hall to the bathroom.
It’s a single occupant room, covered in graffiti but cleaner than I would have expected, given the type of place this is. There’s enough room for us both to move around comfortably, and I haul River over to the toilet.
