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“Ex-con?”
“Her mom’s ex-boyfriend who’s out of prison. And then something about not saving a baby and shit like that. Know anything about it?”
“Fuck. Fuck.” I shake Zane’s arm off me, then spoil it when I gasp and clutch my side. “Jesus. Shit.”
What baby? What have I missed? Christ, what happened to her before coming to Madison?
“Dammit, fucker, you need a hospital.” Zane paces in front of me, the light from his cell casting his face in blues and grays. “I’m calling a cab for you.”
“Don’t even think about it.” I straighten, though it kills me. “I’m fine. Let’s go find her.”
He glares at me, waits for a few beats for me to change my mind—as if—and stuffs his cell back into his pocket. He falls in step beside me. “Hey, maybe she’s fine, got held up or something.”
With my luck? Impossible.
“Tell me what she said about this ex-con. When was he released?”
“She didn’t say, man. But she was scared, that much was clear.”
“Dammit.” My hands clench. My head pounds like a drum, and I stumble over a sewage lid.
“Rafe…”
“Shut up, Zane. I’m going to find her and make sure she’s all right.”
He chuckles, and I don’t even want to know why, seriously. Motherfucker.
A small shadow dashes toward us as we cross a busy street, and I flinch before I recognize Apples.
“Hey, kiddo.” I wait until she approaches. “What’s up?”
“That pretty girl you had me watching, the one with the stalker that you sent away?”
“Stalker?” Zane is scowling at me. “What’s this about?”
“Later.” I wave a hand at him. “What about her, Apples?”
“Well, I hang around that new coffee shop she works at, because my brother’s working not far from there, and I saw him take her.”
My lungs seize. I reach out blindly and Zane grabs my arm. “Who took her?”
“This tattooed guy.” She glances at Zane quickly. “Not like you two. His face’s tattooed. He’s got a rose on his cheek.”
“Carson,” I hiss. “Did he take her in a car?”
“No, they’re in an alley not far from here.” She’s already walking away. “Come on, I’ll take you there.”
Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, sends jolts through my racing heart. I push off Zane, the pain in my side fading to nothing, my eyes clearing.
“Let’s go,” I say, my voice growing stronger by the second, like my anger at this fucked-up world and my resolve to save Megan. “Run as fast as you can.”
***
Dylan joins us as we run down a side street—well, Zane’s running. By now, adrenaline or not, I’ve been reduced to stumbling like a drunkard.
“The little girl’s right ahead,” he says. “She’s waiting at the mouth of that alley.”
He points, and I slow down, wrapping both arms around my ribcage. There’s Apples, a tiny shape, huddled down on her haunches, observing us.
