“What’s the plan?” Max asked while shuffling back and forth on his feet.
“You’re going to class. I’m going to find my girl,” I growled before exiting the classroom.
I was nearly out of earshot when I heard his low response. “About damn time.”
When Lance told me her phone was pinged last at a pawn shop, my heart sank, and I connected the dots. Whoever called her wanted money. Fast. I wanted to believe that it wasn’t her father asking for cash, but I couldn’t rule anything out. I pulled up to the shop, depressed to find that her car wasn’t parked outside. She wasn’t there anymore, but I went inside to ask. Maybe it could lead me to more information about what was running through her head.
She wasn’t answering our calls and texts, which pissed me off even more. How did so much change in just a day? I knew we were going through a rough patch, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be there for her. Fuck! Of course she believed that. I’d proven last night that she couldn’t rely on me.
The shop was cluttered with knock-off purses, electronics, and jewelry. The shopkeeper was tatted and had a creeper mustache and beady eyes. “Hey, man. You here to sell or buy?” he asked in a lazy, stoner drawl.
“I’m here to ask a couple of questions.”
His eyes widened, but he quickly forced himself to relax, my intentions having obviously put him on edge. “I’m not answering shit unless you have a warrant, cop.” Anger swelled within me, and I reached across the desk to grab his shirt and yank him over the jewelry cabinet, his torso slamming against the glass. I didn’t even care that he had a rifle sitting beside him. I was a man on a motherfucking mission.
“I’m not a cop, motherfucker,” I growled. He started sputtering about the weed growing in his backroom and offering me a bag of grow. His musty smell made me want to gag. I didn’t want his fucking pot; I wanted my girl. Every second he rambled was a second she was in danger. Fuck that. I pulled him entirely over the cabinet and threw him on the ground.
“I don’t want your shitty weed. There was a girl with blonde hair that was just here. What did she want?” I asked.
He sputtered out his response. “Sh-she sold me a bag, a MacBook, and a watch. I gave her two grand for all of it, and she seemed pissed that I was low balling her but desperate enough to take it.”
I picked him up and slammed him against the tile floor in agitation. My hypothesis was correct, she was scrambling for cash and selling everything of value she had. His head hit with a resounding crack. I got up while dusting my hands off, then started walking out. “I’m calling the cops, asshole,” he called at my back.
“You do that. I’m sure they’ll love the weed you’re growing in the back room,” I replied while dialing Lance’s number. I felt so close and yet so far.
Once outside, Lance picked up the phone. “Did you find her?” he asked.
“She wasn’t at the pawnshop,” I growled.
“It says she’s at some used car lot now,” Lance said, his voice far away like he was looking at his phone while speaking. “Why is she in a car lot?”
“I think whoever called her wants money. Do you have her bank information? Can we do a transfer?” I asked while getting into my car and pulling out of the lot.
“Do we really want to do that? We shouldn’t negotiate with gangbangers, Decker. Let’s find her first.”
“We don’t have time!” I yelled into the phone while punching my steering wheel. “I don’t want her showing up there without enough cash. She’s being impulsive, and I wouldn’t put it past her to show up with whatever she has, and them punishing her for it not being enough.”
Lance went quiet for a moment before answering. “You’re right. I’m still waiting for the detective to call me back, too.”
“Send me her bank info, and I’ll wire two hundred grand to her account. Do you think that’s enough?”
“Shit, Decker. That’s a lot of money.”
“I don’t care. Keep sending me her location. The plan is to find her before she goes to them, but if we don’t find her, we want her to be prepared, okay?” Once again, Lance went quiet.
“Decker, what’s going on with you and my sister? I know you