Seventy-seven

“Call my partner. Tell her what’s going on—Santos too,” she said to Alvarez before tossing a glance at Vega. “And take him home. Stick with him until I call you.”

Before either of them could launch a protest, she moved, crossing the kitchen to head for the front door before any of them could stop her.

That’s right, darlin’. You just keep on goin’. You don’t need any of them. Not when you have me.

“Wait—” The front door slammed behind her, cutting off the person following her, but she didn’t stop, kept walking at a fast clip down the driveway. She needed to get the hell out of there before she completely lost it.

The door opened and slammed again. “I’m pregnant,” Val huffed behind her as she followed her across the street. “You’re really gonna make me run?”

Goddamnit.

She stopped long enough to dig her car keys out of her pocket. Long enough for Val to land a hand on her shoulder and spin her around. “Just stop for a second,” she said, her dark eyes shiny with tears. “Nothing? You’ve got nothing to say to me?”

She took a deep breath and let it out. “Ms. Hernandez—”

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Val hissed at her, the hand on her shoulder slipping down to clamp around her wrist. “Don’t you dare do that to me, Sabrina.” She whispered her name, the tail of it catching on a stifled sob. “You can’t just pretend—”

I know where she is. I know where he took Ellie.

Wade’s words echoed in her head. He sounded nearly as desperate as she felt. “I don’t believe you,” she said, fully aware she sounded crazy. “I can’t trust anything you say.”

“Sabrina?” Instead of pushing her away, her insane outburst drew Val closer. “What are you talking about?”

I’ve never lied to you. You think about that, about all the times I’ve helped you. Showed you the way. I’ll do it again, but it’s gotta be now, darlin’.

“He has Ellie,” she said, twisting herself from Val’s grip. “I don’t have time for this. She doesn’t have time for this.”

Val’s hand flew to her mouth, her head shaking. She knew what her friend was thinking. What she was remembering. Not so long ago, it’d been Val who’d been taken. David Song had taken her and it had been Sabrina’s fault, just like it was her fault now.

“He almost took you once. Wade,” she said, watching as her words leeched the color from her friend’s face. “He wrote about it. About how you flirted with him over cherry pie and the only thing that stopped him was the fact that he had other, more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Andy Shepard,” Val breathed, her hand dropping away from her face. Shepard had been the boy Wade stabbed to death in a gas station bathroom before severing his hand. He’d done it because Shepard had hit on her. Grabbed her ass.

He shoulda kept his hands off what didn’t belong to him. He’d still be alive if he’d minded his manners.

Sabrina turned again, using the key fob to unlock the car. “You should’ve stayed in San Francisco,” she said, sliding into the driver’s seat before reaching out to snag the door, slamming it closed between them.