Coming Home (The Surrender Trilogy 3)

Lucian looked at her and she shrugged. “This was her home.”

“Is there anywhere else she went? Where did she get her drugs?”

“I got them for her. It was either that or watch her sell herself until there was nothing left.”

As he drew in a deep breath, she heard the way it shook. “Where did you buy them?”

She met his gaze. Showing him this side of her past was so much more painful than telling him

about it. There was no diluting the truth when it was right before his eyes. “There’s an old school

about eight blocks from here. There’s a house . . .”

The limo drove as Parker directed Dugan in the right direction. The few houses that marked the way

were mostly abandoned or in ill repair.

She rubbed her head, weary from worry. The thought of what this day could still bring utterly

exhausted her, but she’d get through it, because that was what she’d always done. Humpty Dumpty fell

down, and she put her back together again and again and again.

The school came into sight. It was vacant beyond the fact that summer was here. Scout recognized

the old familiar landmarks and pointed to a run-down house across the way. It was likely an apartment

at some point, but had the bones of an old Victorian.

The siding was a faded shade of maroon. Trim was painted everything from green to blue. The

crumbling cement steps were barely climbable. Graffiti was scribbled everywhere, even over the wood

that filled the windows like patches over empty eye sockets.

The Victorian was the crack house where everyone went to get stoned. Next to it, the small, run-

down white house with blue trim was where the dealer lived.

Lucian looked to Parker and he shook his head. “He’ll only talk to Scout.”

“I’ll need some money.”

Lucian scowled at her as if she were crazy. “You’re out of your mind if you think you’re going in

there alone.”

“Lucian, if you go, he’ll shoot you. He’ll think you’re a cop or worse, someone poaching from his

territory. Just give me a few dollars and I’ll be right out. He’s probably already loading his gun from the window wondering what the hell a limo’s doing in his front yard. I just want to find Pearl.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“Evelyn—”

Parker suddenly interrupted them. “I’ll go with her. He at least knows who I am. He doesn’t like

me, but he’ll recognize me.”

Lucian’s jaw tensed. “I swear, if anything happens to her on your watch I’m holding you

responsible. You have three minutes and I’m coming in.”

They climbed out of the car and approached the tiny white house. A sheet fluttered over the

unbarred part of the window. They were being watched. She knocked, just as she always had, the

quick, two short raps.

The knob turned and the door eased open as if by a phantom touch. They pressed through and she

was immediately bombarded by the tainted scent of meth and rotting waste.

Piled-up trash crunched under her shoes, and she was incredibly grateful she wore her sneakers that

day. A half-naked woman slept on a bare, stained mattress in the corner.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Scout. I’m getting one surprise after another today. You’re looking . . .

well.” The dealer turned and scowled at Parker.

“Damien, we’re looking for Pearl. Have you seen her?”

He shrugged. “I see lots of people. I’m a very sought-after gentleman. Hard to keep track of who I

do and don’t see.” He sat slouched on a broken couch. She made out the shape of a gun under the worn

cotton of his pants.

“Please.” She held out the hundred-dollar bill Lucian gave her. “I only want to find Pearl.”

She never let Damien know Pearl was her mother. While they may have resembled one another at

some point, those days were long over. Giving a man like Damien that sort of information only gave

him more power.

He took the money and eased back in his seat. Feigning disinterest, he flipped back the sheet over

the boarded window. Through the small cut-away space she saw the limo. They’d been gone about a

minute.

“You’re rollin’ with a new kinda crowd now, eh, Scout? I’m thinking you could do a little better

than this if you really wanted my attention. Why don’t you run on out there and ask your sugar daddy

for some more money and I’ll help you find Pearl.

“Here, you piece of shit,” Parker said, tossing another two hundred on Damien’s lap. “Now tell us if

you saw her.”

Damien picked up the money and tsked slowly. The girl in the corner moaned. The smell was

getting to Evelyn and she felt like she was going to pass out if she didn’t get into some fresh air quick.

“I don’t recall inviting you in, boy. Why don’t you step outside so me and Scout here can have us a

chat?”

“Not on your life.”

Damien’s lip lifted as if it were attached to a fishing hook. He laughed. “Ah, or maybe on yours.”