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“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to call the police?” she asks, making my heart race for reasons unknown. “I’m a—”
“Please, don’t,” I implore, cutting her off. “It’s just a rough night. If I can make it to the north side of town, I’ll be able to get where I’ll be safe.”
“This is going south.” I can hear the frown in her voice even if I can’t see it clearly.
Fuck. I start to get up so that I can at least sit on the bench. I’ll need to wait for another train, one coming from the opposite direction.
“Do you know the schedule? Like when one might be headed toward the north part of town?” I ask once I’m no longer afraid of falling over.
She moves closer, and I tense involuntarily. Short blonde hair, blue scrubs, and an oversized bag—her appearance finally registering before she bends down to pick something up from the ground. "I'm supposed to call the police. Ignoring your…situation could cost me my job." She hands me a piece of paper. "You dropped this."
I squint at the note, but my vision betrays me. "Could you read it for me?"
Her lips tighten in concern. "I hope I don't regret this." She recites a phone number, and something about it seems oddly familiar, like a memory just out of reach.
How did that get into my pocket?
“At least let me help you sit down and clean you up until my train gets here,” she says, wrapping an arm gently around me.
I don’t argue with her, mostly because my thoughts are still trying to piece together who the number could belong to.
“Do you want to call someone?” the kind woman asks as she opens her bag.
“I’d like to, but—”
Holy shit. Is that Luca’s number? I remember my pants being tugged at as the stranger gave me instructions on how to get out of the house. Had he also given me a way to find help faster?
“Can you dial the number on this paper and put it on speaker?” I ask with desperation in my voice. “I don’t want to get it wrong or dirty your phone.”
She’s stayed close enough that I can see a soft smile rise on her oval face. “Sure.”
I wait, my stomach churning with nerves. If this isn’t Luca’s number, if it’s someone who wants to hurt me, I’m not sure what I’ll do. Then, I wonder if I’m going to get this woman killed because I’m allowing her to help.
My hand smacks at hers before the phone starts to ring. “Block your number. I don’t want anyone to be able to…call you back.”
Or more accurately, try to track her down.
Her mouth forms into a hard line. “Listen, I know an officer. He’ll protect you.”
My head is already shaking. “No, please. Just use star-sixty-seven and call that number.” At least I think that feature still works. If payphones still exist, I’m sure that does too. Then, I add, “If it’s not who I hope it is, I promise to let you do more.”
I’m lying through my teeth. I’ll try to run if it’s anyone other than Luca, Justine, or Jaxon that answers, but I’m not going to tell her that.
“My sister is a survivor of domestic abuse,” she says compassionately. “You deserve better than this.”
“I know. And Ihavebetter, I swear.” Well, I sort of do. Luca would never lay a hand on me, but his world is still dangerous. Though, she doesn’t need to know that.
When the phone starts to ring, I hold my breath, waiting for the voice that I yearn to hear. When it’s on the third ring, I start to lose hope.
My eyes close, and I lean my head back against the wall behind me. I’m nearly ready to cry when the voicemail starts.
“This is Luca Monroe. Leave a message.”
It’s short and clipped and very much Luca. I start to laugh and cry all at the same time as the woman next to me asks if I want her to hang up.
“Yes, but can you send that number a text?” I ask through my tears. “I promise it’s safe now that I know who it is. Hell, you’ll probably even be rewarded. Text him and say that I’m here with you and where we are. Please.”
Luca might not answer a blocked number, but he should at least read a text from an unknown one. At least, I fucking hope so.
