Her features are stony, and I know she’s pulling away, going wherever she goes in her mind that allows her to do what she does.
“I want to do what I always do. Make him pay for what he did to me.”
I shake my head. “It made sense to make the others pay, but Gavin never touched you.”
“What do you want from him?”
My fingers are on the frosty glass, and I trace them up and down the sides. “I want to ask him why. I want him to tell me there’s more to the story I don’t know. I want him to give me a good reason for what he did.”
Blue eyes flash. “You’re saying there’s a good reason for what he did?”
“No.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“Then how will you ever get what you want?”
“Maybe I won’t,” I say with a shrug. “See if Joshua knows how to reach him. I’ll make the call.”
I wait at the bar, watching as she goes to where he stands. If I didn’t know her, she’d seem like any other Seattle kid, pretty, edgy, a touch of darkness. Joshua is clearly smitten. He takes out a pen and writes what she tells him on a napkin.
I take another sip of the blue beverage, and wince again at the intense sweetness. My eyes are heavy from jet lag, and the drink is making me feel buzzed. I can’t remember the last time I had a cocktail—it was before Jillian was born.
Molly kisses her new friend on the cheek and walks back to where I’m standing.
“He gave me his number.” She looks at the bar, her expression blank.
“Just like that?” I’m a little uncomfortable being acquainted with someone so ready to hand out other people’s personal information. “I’m glad you didn’t tell him our real names.”
“Oh, I meant Joshua gave me his number—his own number. He’s going to ask if it’s okay for us to call. He’ll let me know one way or the other.”
“Tomorrow,” I say under my breath. “We’ll either be back here or somewhere else.”
“And if we’re back here, I’ll be ready.”
Leaning my head on my hand, the noise, the loud music, the crowd, and the flashing lights are starting to wear me down. “I’m ready to go back to the hotel.”
Her full pink lips twist into a frown. “It’s barely midnight.”
“Midnight here is two a.m. in New Orleans, and I just got over Nice.”
She shrugs. “I’ve never been a night owl. We can call it quits.”
Outside, the clouds have moved away, and the dark sky is littered with stars. Our hotel is ten blocks away, so we walk. Molly is beside me, but we don’t touch. I remember a time when she hung on my arm constantly.
“What will you do after this?” I’m not sure what to call what we’ve been doing. “Where will you go?”
“Maybe I’ll stay here.”
My eyebrows rise. “Because of Joshua?”
“No.” Her tone is impatient. “I like the vibe here. It’s mysterious but not sinister.”
“Even with Gavin?”
Her eyes flicker to mine. “He might not be staying for long.”
We walk several blocks in silence, only the noises of our shoes on the paveme
nt and the passing cars surround us.