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Along the back wall is a stainless steel counter, manned by a few volunteers who are dishing out food to those who are waiting in line with trays. There are so many people here, way more than the hundred or so cots that are visible. I can’t help wondering what happens to those who don’t get a cot. Do they sleep on the floor? Are they kicked out of the building at night?
With each passing thought, my eyes water a little more. It takes everything I have not to break down and cry for what is probably the thousandth time since Madyson went missing.
While staring at the room, one of the volunteers cautiously approaches me. “Miss, do you need some help?”
Looking somewhat blindly at the woman, I hear my voice rasp, “I’m looking for my little sister. Her name is Madyson. She’s eighteen years old. Hold on.” Digging through my purse, I pull out her picture. “Here, this is what she looks like. Have you seen her? She’s been missing for four days, and I’m desperate to find her.” I can hear the hope in my voice.
Silently I pray the kind looking woman in front of me has seen my little sister, but when she shakes her head and gives me a sad look, I know my prayers went unheard.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but I haven’t seen her here. Feel free to walk the room and look around, though. I know that would make you feel better. Just please don’t get to close to anyone. They don’t like it when someone invades their space. It’s hard for them living on the streets, and the small things, like personal space and safety, are sometimes the only things they have left to hold on to.”
I nod my head dejectedly at the woman before thanking her for her help. After going through the place with no sign of my sister, I move onto the next two facilities with no luck. It is like she vanished. No one has seen her, knows her, or honestly, seems to care.
The drive home is a blur as the tears run freely down my face. Not paying attention to anything around me, I make my way to my doorstep only to stop in my tracks.
Leaning against my door in his jeans, black T-shirt, and leather vest is none other than Ice.
As if I don’t have enough going wrong in my life! Let’s add something else to the crap-tastic day I am having.
“Brooke’s not here, or she shouldn’t be,” I quickly say, hoping he will leave.
“Oh, I’m very aware of where Brooke is. I can’t say the same for your sister, but no worries about my daughter.”
Cocky bastard. All of my energy has been spent on the search for my sister; I don’t have it in me to fight with him today.
“Why are you here, then? I really don’t have time for your brand of asshole.”
He smiles, really, genuinely, full blown smiles. Something shifts in the air around me. My anger remains firmly planted at the surface, though I see something deeper into this man before me suddenly.
“My brand of asshole, huh? You’re cute, Morgan. I’m here to help.”
“Help?” I question out loud unintentionally. Why does he want to help now? He turned me away. Harshly, brutally, without cause, without a second glance, and without care, he turned me away. Now he stands at my doorstep, offering to help? I want nothing more than to refuse him. The independent side of me wants to scream, yell, throw things, and yes, have a full blown temper tantrum that I don’t need a single thing from him. The truth is, however, I do. I do need his help, his connections, and even the bad boy edge he carries. He is the only hope I have left for finding my sister.
“Can we go inside?” he asks, looking at the keys still in my hand.
No! I scream inside my head. No, we can’t go inside. No, you can’t simply be nice now. He owes me an apology at the very least. Is this how all women are around him? He acts like the biggest dick on the planet until he decides to give me a chance and what now? Am I supposed to bow down and thank him?
My entire life has been doing what everyone wants and expects from me. He is no different. I am tired of being walked all over and treated like crap. No more.
“Why? I have nothing to say to you. Madyson is my problem, not yours.”
He shakes his head at me and blows out a breath. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
Confusion covers my features. “Huh?”
“Fine. I was wrong. I’m here to make it right and help find Madyson.”
Surprise hits me at his admission. His attitude must be rubbing off on me because I can’t stop myself from challenging him further. “Wrong about what exactly? Wrong about my irresponsibility? Wrong about my sister? Wrong about my intentions with your daughter? Wrong about why I was at your business to see my friend? Which, I will add, I had no idea you were her boss, or I would’ve steered clear. So, yes, Ice, please tell me which infraction you are owning up to because there are many.”
