Laurel’s mind raced nearly every moment of the day, trying to figure out how to survive this bizarre life she’d been tossed into while staying, mostly, sane.
“Thanks for working late tonight.” Jace winced. “I should have cut things off earlier.”
“Nah. You were enjoying yourself and you sounded so good. I was happy I got to hear more.” She smiled up at him. They had little enough to be excited about—she’d never deny him his music.
“Seemed a shame to stop playing. Rudy was raking it in at the bar, and my tip jar overflowed.”
“It was a good haul. Especially once people were a few drinks in. Always worked that way at Heels, too.” Why did she keep thinking about that shithole tonight? It had been a long time since they’d been stuck there. She should be over it by now.
Jace squeezed her. “I think we might have enough put away soon that you could sign up for that social work course you were looking at.”
He said it casually, but the way he stopped breathing made her sure he was afraid of how she’d react to that suggestion. And he was right to be nervous. Just the thought of reaching for a goal that big scared the shit out of her. As long as she kept her expectations low, she couldn’t be disappointed, and that…
Well, a college course was a step toward enrolling in a degree program, a dream that could break her if she reached for it and flopped. It had been hard enough when they’d challenged each other to get their GEDs. Even basic things like that came with hurdles other people didn’t face, like having to buy fake social security numbers from Draven to get state issued IDs so they could register to take the test since he refused to let them do anything to draw the attention of cold case cops to them…and then to Draven and his illegal activities by association. That move had allowed them to look for better jobs, both because they could say they’d finished high school and because they didn’t have to rely on those willing to pay under the table anymore. Bit by bit, they’d dug out of the hole they’d been in. It had been hard, but they’d done it together like the team they’d been for so long now.
On her own…
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “It’s probably better to build up our savings some more instead.”
“For what, Laurel?” He frowned down at her. “We’re good. We’ve already got three months of expenses squirreled away, and we don’t splurge on dumb shit.”
“I know, but we don’t have health insurance. What if one of us gets sick? Can’t work for a while? Or maybe we could pay for a few therapy sessions instead. God knows we could use a shrink ourselves.”
Maybe if they did, they could work out the issues holding them back from a real relationship, one that could fulfill them both.
“If you need to go to the doctor, I’ll pick up another job.” He rolled toward her, rubbing her arm slowly and gently. She didn’t fail to notice that he never thought of himself. If he got sick, he’d suffer in silence. And as for counseling, he could use it every bit as much as she could.
“You already have two, working at the pub and gigging at night.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It seems unfair to blow that on myself.”
“Well, when you snag that fancy career I’ll freeload off of you. Deal?” He smirked, and she couldn’t help but laugh since he wasn’t the sort of man to ever ride someone else’s coattails.
Laurel should have let it go, but some of her earlier thoughts wormed their way to the forefront of her mind. “We could use it as a down payment on a bigger place. So you don’t have to share a room with me until you’re eighty.”
He jerked as if she’d kneed him in the balls, then disentangled himself, leaning away and making her afraid he might get up entirely. “Is that what you want? Privacy? I can sleep on the couch. I’ve told you that a million times.”
“Exactly my point.” She stiffened but put her fingers on his clenched forearm to soften her words. “Maybeyou’rethe one who wants some personal space.”
He slumped into his usual place and mumbled, “I’m good.”
Then they were both quiet as they stared at the TV, pretending to watch the news when really they were avoiding the awkward silence that settled over them like a lead blanket. Laurel concentrated on Jace’s heartbeat, counting the steadythud-thudsuntil she was half asleep.
So she almost didn’t catch the breaking story that cut in on the late-night weather forecast.
Jace’s reaction roused her, drawing her attention. He tensed beneath her, his muscles immediately ready to pounce, or flee, or fight like he’d done so many times before.
“What?” She bolted upright. Her gaze flew to the doorway, which was still empty and quiet. Habit.
Then she swung her attention to the TV. Red and blue lights painted over a building she would never forget. Just seeing the old canning factory made her dinner churn in her guts. It was the seediest arm of Draven’s operation. The one where he kept his “bargain” offerings. It had been her destiny once, a place she thought she’d die before she and Jace had cut their deal and finally broken free.
“…an anonymous tip led police to the scene where we’re being told multiple bodies, all male, either naked or heavily armed, were removed from the compound.”
“Someone shut them down!” Laurel got to her knees, wanting to run, to dance, to shout, but frozen at the same time.
“Holy shit. After all this time.” Jace shook his head. “I wonder, why now?”
It’s wasn’t like the police hadn’t known what was happening out there. Whether it was the fine print of laws that checked their power or good old-fashioned corruption that had prevented them from intervening, she had no idea, but this was damn near a miracle.
“Jace, what happened to the workers? There’s no mention of the women and girls. The boys.” She clutched his hand and he held on tight.