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I poured myself a coffee, adding a heavy dose of creamer. “Selfish is exactly the word I would have used,” I commented under my breath, finally remembering a little about the previous night. When I turned around, I was met with a hard stare, making me freeze. “I mean… what are you doing here so early?”
He placed his mug down on the counter and rolled his shoulders back. “Haven’t been home yet. Thought I’d stop in and see if you two wanted a ride since I know Calli probably drank far too fucking much last night to drive anywhere.”
He was right. Again.
Honestly, I imagine it was pretty hard to get anything past Bishop, which, given the stories I’d heard Calli tell me about her teenage years, made me a little suspicious, but not of Calli. I’m sure she did sneak out and go to parties like she said, but I was pretty sure Bishop wasn’t as clueless about it as she seemed to think he was.
“You haven’t been home yet?” I laughed softly. “Sounds like you shouldn’t be the one offering to drive anywhere today.”
He shook his head. “Wasn’t out partying… we were looking for someone.” Curious, I pressed my lips together, not wanting to overstep, which must have been obvious because he reached into his jeans back pocket and pulled out a couple of pieces of paper, sliding them across the kitchen island.
Pushing my coffee to the side, I leaned in closer, smiling at the image on the top. “That’s cute,” I commented, studying the picture of a teen girl with a man I assumed to be her dad. She was probably thirteen or fourteen years old, and they were both dressed in black suit jackets with white button-up shirts, black ties, and dark glasses. Their backs were pressed together as they posed with what looked like water guns. “They’re dressed as Men in Black for Halloween.”
Bishop picked up the photo and moved it to the side, revealing the picture underneath.
I gasped. “Oh my God.” It was the same girl, but she was lying in a hospital bed, covered in bruises, and looking about twenty pounds lighter, which made her hip bones protrude and her cheeks pull in. I looked up at Bishop with a heavy frown, shaking my head. “Who… what…”
“Mm,” he hummed, his eyes still focused on the picture. “She’s missing, and her dad came to the bar after you girls left last night and asked the club to find her.”
“What happened to her?” I asked, though I was sure I already knew the answer. Even after the past few years I’d been in nursing, it still hit hard to see addicts come in because I had been so close to ending up looking exactly like this—starving myself because I was buying drugs instead of food, possibly even selling my body to pay for them.
My addiction to oxy could have just been the start. What if my body had gotten used to it? What if I’d started to need something harder, stronger, more potent?
The day I watched Ali get locked up because of me changed everything. It stopped me in my tracks because Ali was the only one I had, and suddenly, I had no one.
It forced me to ask for help. And thankfully, there’d been someone there to hear me.
I was one of the lucky ones, but when I got stressed or overwhelmed, I still heard that little voice in the back of my head screaming at me for relief.
Only now, the voices screaming at me to succeed were just a little louder.
And I hoped like hell they stayed that way.
“From what it sounds like, someone is pimping her out,” he growled between clenched teeth. “Spent all last night cruising the streets, asking around. No one wants to talk, though, so it must be someone important.”
I looked back at the photo, letting out a heavy sigh. Something caught my eye, and I leaned in, studying the tattoo on her hip. It was a heart with a little banner through it that read Mom. It was cliché and heart-wrenching at the same time.
“I hope you find her,” I said quietly, looking up and meeting his eyes. Their unreal smoky-gray color never failed to have me losing my train of thought. Some days, they were storm clouds rolling in, and other days, they were more metallic, like silver. I was pretty sure they changed with his mood, and it had become somewhat of a game I played every time I saw him, giving the color of the day a name.
That day, they were charcoal.
Dark. Dangerous. Sexy.
Oh dear.
I cleared my throat, picked up my mug from the counter, and took a drink. “Calli should be up in a minute. She had her alarm set for nine o’clock so she could make it to your place by ten.”
He grabbed the pictures off the counter and tucked them into his cut. “You aren’t coming to the party?”
“I’ll be there later. My brother called yesterday. Apparently, he’s in Detroit and needs to see me,” I explained, rolling my eyes. “I love him, but he has a tendency only to call when he needs something, so that should be fun. Hopefully, it won’t take long, and I’ll make it for lunch.”
Calli was flying out to New York the next day, giving her a few days to settle in before she started her internship on Monday morning. I already knew there would be plenty of tears as I watched her get on that damn plane, but I kept reminding myself it was only for a few months.
I’d be fine. I was sure. Or at least, I was determined to be.
I glanced across the room at the clock, which read 8:54a.m., and quickly tossed the last of my coffee into the sink. “I better get ready. I’ve got like two buses to catch to get across town, and I’m already too tired for that shit. We didn’t get in until two in the morning.”
Bishop scoffed and muttered under his breath, “Two in the morning.”
