I climb out of my car, cut my way through the crowd gathered in front of the establishment, and walk inside.
For about an hour, I watch groups of men and women pulling in and out, people getting drunk, making out, or cutting sordid deals in front of the sports bar.
Close to midnight, the crowd thins out, and the traffic gets lighter. I slide off my chair and walk across the room, heading to the bathroom.
I stroll back a few minutes later when a familiar silhouette slides onto a barstool, catching my eye.
Harboring mixed feelings, I veer to the bar and claim a seat next to him.
He throws me a glance before taking a swig from his drink, his expression hidden behind his glass.
My fingers slide over his hand.
He pulls it away and places it on his thigh, not fast enough, though, and I notice the bruises and small cuts on his arm.
I raise my eyes and spot more marks on his neck and lips.
They look days old.
“Jaden?” I call softly.
He tosses his drink back, throws cash on the bar, pushes off the chair, and dashes to the back exit. I pay for my food and drinks and follow him.
The back alley is empty, sunk in darkness. He rushes around the corner and vanishes out of my sight. I sprint to catch up with him, yet by the time I make it around the building, car doors shut closed with a muffled sound, and a big, black SUV backs up and pulls away, leaving behind a swirl of dust.
I dart to the parking lot, my hand sliding into my pocket, fumbling for my keys.
Fuck.
I spin around and jog back to the bar, storming inside. My car keys dangle from Scottie’s hand.
“Thanks so much,” I say hurriedly before I grab them and push out the door.
The Camaro revs up with a roar as I pull onto the main road. I stop at the first intersection and look up and down the street, pondering my options.
Following a hunch, I steer right.
New homes sprawl out on both sides of the road for a few good miles before a wall of trees and vegetation lines the path.
Once in a while, the headlights of an oncoming car sweep my windshield, blinding me.
For the most part, the night is silent, and the sky is full of stars, a smell of smoke drifting through the open windows.
As the road becomes deserted and homes are no longer in sight, I begin to doubt I picked the right route.
A few minutes later, I pull over to the side of the road, cut off the engine, and listen. Deceiving moonlight streams through the trees, a bunch of frogs and crickets filling the air with their noise.
I sigh when I ‘think’ I hear a man’s voice.
I listen attentively. The muffled dialogue fades in and out before a male voice shouts.
The headlights of a car flicker behind a group of trees, and I notice a small meadow stretching out not far from me.
I shift the key into the ignition, and keeping the lights off, I swerve back onto the road.
Slowly, I roll to the edge of the woods and turn right onto a secondary dirt road that cuts through the clusters of trees leading to the meadow.
The black SUV sits on the right side of the road. All four doors are open.