Jamie

 

Gigi relaxed in my arms. It felt like she might even be sleeping. I was glad—as long as she was asleep, she wasn’t living in the nightmare her life had become. It had all gone downhill so quickly. Just hours had passed since we sat together at dinner. She asked me why I didn’t have an appetite. I told her I wasn’t hungry, but didn’t say why. How could I have told her I had a feeling something terrible was about to happen? How could I have known the terrible thing was going to happen to the two of us, not to her daddy?

 

I shivered—there was no heat in the room, and it was a chilly night. I held Gigi tighter, trying to keep her warm with my body. No way I would peel the crusty bedspread back to warm us up. I could only imagine how many diseases were living in that bed.

 

The room was a mess. I was surprised the place was even open with the condition it was in. Besides the fact that the paper peeled off the walls, the carpet was so worn down it looked like a bare floor, and the furniture was falling apart, it was filthy. I wondered if he did the majority of his living in that very room. It suited him.

 

The Scarecrow sat at the foot of the bed, his back to us. He was watching TV. It was nearly impossible to see what was on the screen thanks to the heavy static, but he laughed just the same. Even the sound of his laugh sent shivers down my spine. He made me sick. Just looking at him turned my stomach.

 

What did it take for a person to become who he was? I remembered Lance’s story, the way his foster father abused him. His junkie mother. He didn’t turn out to be some soulless monster. What level of depravity did a person have to be exposed to for them to become so evil?

 

There was a time when I didn’t think actual evil existed. I thought everybody basically did their best as they saw it at the moment. There was always a reason for weakness. Even Rae, though I hadn’t liked her, was sympathetic. She wasn’t trying to make the wrong decisions. She couldn’t help herself. I had reminded myself of that so many times over the months, hadn’t I?

 

Yet there I was, staring at the back of The Scarecrow’s head, looking at pure evil. Only an evil, heartless person could consider selling a child. I didn’t care about what he wanted to do to me nearly as much as I cared about her. Who would ruin a child’s life like that? A sweet, innocent little girl like Gigi? And he didn’t care! That was the worst part. He didn’t even flinch. How disconnected, how totally cold did a person have to be?

 

“What happened to you?” The words came out in a near whisper. I spat them at him.

 

“Are you talking to me?” he muttered.

 

“Yes. What happened to you?”

 

He turned. I saw his profile highlighted by the TV screen—the crooked nose, the pointed chin. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“How could you do something like this? She’s a person. I’m a person. We’re not things. How can you sell people to other people?”

 

“What are you trying to do? Get inside my head so I’ll feel sorry for you? Gimme a break. Go to sleep, shut the fuck up. I can’t wait ’til you’re outta here.”

 

“You could get me outta here much quicker if you let me go.”

 

“No way. Stop trying. You’re worth too much money.”

 

I was curious. “How much?”

 

He snickered. “You really wanna know?”

 

“Yes. I should know how much money I’m making for you, shouldn’t I?”

 

He shrugged. “Fair enough. I’m asking for twenty grand.”

 

“Twenty thousand dollars? Not bad. You realize I could give you thirty, right?”

 

“Yeah, but I could get the money outta your account either way. So really, that’s fifty.” He chuckled nastily. “This is a pretty good day for me. Not so good for you.”

 

“You can’t get that kind of money. Only I can. It’s not like you’re going to take thirty thousand dollars out of an ATM. It’s not even in my checking or savings. It’s in my trust fund, from my parents. There’s more than that, actually. Much more. But I have to be there personally to take out such a large sum. They’re not going to give it to you.”

 

I had his attention, I could tell. He tried to pretend like he was only half interested, but I sensed there was much more. It was the change in the way he held his body. He sat up straighter, cocked his head in my direction. Listened more closely.

 

“Keep talking,” he murmured.

 

This is it. You have to be cool. It was my only shot to get through to him—I couldn’t push too hard or too fast. “If you wait until tomorrow, when the bank is open, I can go in and get the money. They’ll give me a cashier’s check for it. I can take it anywhere and get the money. Or I can put it in my checking account so you’ll have access to it. You can keep my ATM card. I don’t care. All that money can be yours.”

 

He made a noise like he was considering it but also wanted to be cool, just as I was. “How much? And don’t lie to me.”

 

“A hundred thousand.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“Give me my phone and I’ll access the account right now.”

 

“No way.”

 

“Then you’ll have to take my word for it.” He went silent, mulling it over. I knew I had him on the hook. “Think about it. Are you going to sell both of us for that much? I doubt it. You’re not getting eighty thousand for her.”

 

“Mind your business on that,” he spat. “You’re not getting her.”

 

Ease up. His temper was flaring. I kept my voice low, but was serious. “What? Yes, I am. That’s part of the deal. Both of us for my money. It can all be yours. This can all be over real quick.”

 

He stood, pacing the room with a thumbnail in his mouth. My stomach churned at the sight of his dirty hands. I didn’t want to imagine the germs he was sucking on. How did people live that way and actually survive it? How did he not have a dozen deadly diseases? Then again, for all I knew, he did.

 

He glanced at me. Sizing me up. Still wanting to pretend he didn’t care as much as he did. “You’re not bullshitting me?”

 

“You say you saw my house, right? You know I’m not making this up.” I didn’t usually brag about money, but it seemed like a good time to start. “My parents were rich, and they died years ago. I was an only child. You do the math.” If you can, I wanted to add, but I bit my tongue. It was no time to be insulting, not when he was so close to giving me what I wanted. So, so close. I could almost taste my freedom, and Gigi’s.

 

I could also almost see the wheels turning in his head. Imagining what he would do with a hundred thousand dollars. What would somebody like him do with that kind of money anyway? I couldn’t begin to imagine. I saw his excitement, though. Just under the surface. He was wondering what to do with us overnight. Should we stay there? Go somewhere else? He had to stay in control, didn’t he? Where could he keep us under his control?

 

Just like that, his eyes clouded over. He went from excited to flat in the blink of an eye “No. It’s not gonna happen.” He sat back down, facing away from me. My heart sank.

 

“What? No, you can’t do that. What’s wrong?”

 

He didn’t turn around. “It’s not just up to me. I made promises to people. I can’t take them back.”

 

“Promises? To what people?”

 

“The people you’re going to, dumb bitch. Who do you think I’m talkin’ about? They’re not gonna be happy if I tell ’em they’re gonna lose out on the money you would make.”

 

I hadn’t thought about that. “I could give them money, too.”

 

“You don’t know how much you would make for them. They wouldn’t go for it. Sorry.” He shook his head. “I could’ve used that money, too.” Then he shrugged like it was just another day at the office. Our lives hung in the balance and he didn’t care.

 

Why should he? Once we’re gone, we’re gone. He never has to think about us again. I clenched my teeth, commanding myself not to cry.

 

“How can you do this?” I whispered. “Selling people. How?”

 

“It’s just business.” He didn’t turn to face me again. The tone of his voice told me there was nothing else to say, and that I’d better stay quiet for the rest of the time we were together.

 

I looked down at Gigi, still sleeping in my arms. Her thumb in her mouth. I didn’t know she sucked her thumb—maybe it was an unconscious comfort thing. She needed to soothe herself, even when she slept. The poor little thing.

 

The sight of her gave me strength. I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t. Not when she hung in the balance.

 

Where are you, Lance? Damn it, why hadn’t I called him? Or at least texted him the information for the motel? Something, anything. How could I be so blind, so stubborn? What did I think I was going to do, rush in and save her single-handedly?

 

I questioned myself just as I had while I was in the car. How could I think I could save her? How could I think I was good enough even to take care of her when I showed such poor judgment? The Scarecrow might have been the most repulsive creature I’d ever seen, but he had a point. I thought I was a hero. I had a complex. I wanted to save Gigi’s life from the minute I met her and realized she was so broken and sad. I took her under my wing, determined to protect her. A lot of good I had done. If anything, I’d made her life even worse. If it wasn’t for me being selfish, she might still be safe.

 

My bag was still on the floor, in the corner by the door. I looked at it, and at him. I’d heard it buzzing over and over since getting to the motel. Every time it made a sound, I jumped. Lance was trying to find us, I knew he was. Only how would he know where to go?

 

If he was going to talk with Rae, she might have told him something. Maybe she knew where The Scarecrow hid out?

 

At the thought of her name, my eyes went wide. I gasped so loudly, I woke Gigi. She stirred, looking up at me with sleepy eyes. I smiled as reassuringly as I could, stroking her hair, trying to get her to go back to sleep. All the while, I knew how The Scarecrow had found her.

 

I knew how he got my phone number, too. That had been bothering me on and off ever since he called. How did he know how to reach me?

 

Rae knew my number. Rae gave it to him.

 

I wanted to scream. How could she do it? How could she be so cold, so cruel? So thoughtless? What was the price? What did he threaten her with? Death? Nothing would have made me tell him where my daughter was. Did she know when she told him what he planned to do? Did she tell him anyway? I squeezed my eyes shut, determined not to cry.

 

How could a person have a sweet little girl and care so little about them? I would never understand it, and I’d never forgive her.

 

Gigi stirred fretfully. She opened her eyes, looking up at me. “Oh. I thought this was a dream.” She sounded so unhappy, it made me ache for her.

 

“I’m sorry. No dream.”

 

“When do we get to leave this place?”

 

The Scarecrow snorted. I cut my eyes in his direction—I didn’t need his snide laughter or remarks—and looked down at her again.

 

“Soon.” I mouthed the word.

 

She nodded. “How?” So she knew we were in trouble. She knew this wasn’t a social call. Well, why wouldn’t she? When he pulled her out of the clubhouse, threw her into a car and locked her up in the motel?

 

I bent very close to her ear and whispered as quietly as I could. “Just be brave. Your dad’s going to come for us.”

 

She pulled away, eyes lighting up. She nodded enthusiastically. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, her face fell again. “How?”

 

I didn’t know the answer, just like I didn’t know if he would really come. I could only hope and pray.

 

“He has his ways. He knows things. Remember when Traci told you how wise he is?”

 

“Yes. Like Solomon.”

 

“Right. He’s very wise, and very brave. And you know something else? I know he loves you. He’ll come for you. I’m sure he will.”

 

I held her close, hoping I hadn’t just lied to her. All I could do was count the minutes and pray he somehow found us.

 

Rae. She came to mind again. Would she have told him? If he caught her? A little spark of hope flickered to life in my heart. It was our only chance. Maybe Rae had an attack of conscience. I closed my eyes and willed him to hurry, just as I willed The Scarecrow’s buyer to take his time. We needed all the time we could get, and all the help we could get. I pictured Fury’s Storm overtaking the motel, sweeping in on their bikes to carry us off to safety. I pictured it as clearly as possible—their faces, their voices. Lance pulling Gigi and me to safety. The way it would feel when he held me in his arms again—his strong, powerful arms. Arms that could crush a pitiful little toad like that Scarecrow person with no effort.

 

And then he would kiss me. I would close my eyes, tilt my head back until it rested in the crook of Lance’s elbow, and let me kiss me until nothing else mattered but us, and his lips, and the warmth of his breath and his body, so close to mine. He would be my hero.

 

I had to picture it. I had to get it down to every last detail. There was nothing else I could do to keep from sliding into a black hole of despair as minute after minute ticked by.