Chapter 15

ASHER

They kick us out at four in the morning. My friends and I, the night owls, are ushered out of the building before they lock up for the night.

I find a spot on a bench across the street, right behind my car. I’m far enough to appear like a drunk fool on a bench, yet close enough to keep an eye on the building’s only entrances and exits.

There’s the main entrance, the double doors at the front, and a side door just around the corner. The building is an end unit, backed onto another, so these are the only two exits.

I know she’ll have to come out of one of them eventually. But I don’t anticipate having to wait until seven forty in the morning for her to appear.

My eyes are struggling to stay open when the side door opens; she steps out in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair now in a messy bun, walking at a pace that no woman should feel compelled to maintain.

I scramble to my feet, my body protesting due to exhaustion, but I manage to cross the road and chase after her.

“Miss,” I call out, my voice revealing my fatigue.

She turns, gives me a strange look, and then quickens her pace.

“You, again?” she asks, speeding up.

“I need your help—I believe you might have information that could help me find someone I’m searching for.”

“I don’t have any information, sir. None. Now please, I need to catch my bus.”

“Please. Just ten minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Ten minutes is a lot when you don’t have any time to spare. Besides, maybe the girl you’re looking for doesn’t want to be found.”

“I never said I was looking for a girl.”

“You didn’t?” she asks, darting across the road with me trailing slightly behind. A car honks at me, narrowly missing me as it speeds past.

“No, please…can you slow down?”

“I have thirty minutes to get to my next job across town. I can’t.”

“I can drive you. We can talk in the car,” I suggest.

She stops abruptly, looks at me, rolls her eyes, and mutters to herself, “No strangers, Hope. What happened to stranger danger?”

Then she turns to me and nods.

“Where’s your car?” she asks.

“It’s over there, outside the club.”

“Bring it here. I can’t be seen getting into your car,” she insists, looking worried.

“Okay…don’t move.”

“Hurry up,” she urges.

I sprint back to the car, running as if my life depends on it, not wanting to leave her alone long enough to vanish.

I start the car, close the door, and skip the seatbelt to rush back to her, only to find her standing exactly where I left her.

I guess she needs the ride, and I suppose it will be faster than public transportation.

“You have money?” she asks, pulling the seatbelt too hard and locking it in place.

“You sound surprised,” I chuckle nervously.

Do I not dress well enough to show I have money? Do I not speak eloquently enough to demonstrate a good education?

~Well, you did have money before your parents practically disowned you for not wanting to take over their empire at such a young age.~

“You look like a high school kid. You don’t find many high schoolers rolling in dough,” she shrugs.

I laugh again, feeling like celebrating because she’s in my car. My first real lead on something suspicious, but I don’t want to scare Hope away.

“Where to?” I ask her, revving the engine. I love the sound it makes, which only makes Hope jump.

“Starbucks on Fourth Street,” she instructs.

I start driving in that direction, obeying the speed limits and stopping at the lights, which annoys her, but I need as much time with her as I can get.

“I’m looking for more than one girl. Girls who have been taken against their will. Girls who I believe are being used as workers.”

“And you think I can give you the answers you’re looking for?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t. The girls working in the club are paid well. I highly doubt they’re there against their will. They come and go as they please…”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t make such a claim if it wasn’t the truth,” she tells me.

“Do you think they’re too frightened to run?” she asks.

“Or perhaps they’ve run off and found a job that suits them better,” she retorts with a hint of sarcasm.

“Grab that Manila folder in the back. Look through the pictures. Do any of them look familiar to you?”

She does as I instruct, reaching behind her with an exaggerated effort. She rolls her eyes, and I can almost hear her internal monologue—probably telling herself to just play along with whatever I say.

I wish I weren’t the one driving, so I could watch her as she sifts through the photos of the missing girls. Body language can reveal so much.

But she doesn’t seem to recognize anyone, and I can’t focus on her too much because a car nearly clips us as it makes a left turn from the right lane.

I honk my horn, muttering curses under my breath as she drops the papers onto the floor of the car.

“Jesus, are you trying to get us killed?” she asks, hastily gathering the scattered papers.

She seems annoyed, tossing the folder back into the small storage area where it was before.

“That wasn’t my fault, sweetheart—that was the jerk in the black suit who was probably running late for work. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. If you consider seat belt burn to be fine,” she replies, rolling her eyes and looking out the window.

The rest of the drive, all five minutes of it, passes in tense silence. I’m at a loss for what to ask her next.

She’s been so defensive and uncooperative, and she didn’t seem to recognize any of the girls. Maybe I’m on the wrong track. Could that be possible?

I mean, I know some girls work. I’ve always known that. Maybe these girls are just like the ones at my parents’ clubs.

I park next to the Starbucks, and she immediately bends down to grab her bag from the footwell before getting out of the car.

“Wait, take my card… Call me if you hear or see anything,” I tell her, handing her one of the business cards my father had made for me when he thought I would beg for the job he wanted to give me.

Who would have thought they’d come in handy?

“Asher,” she says with a smirk.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Cool name. Thanks for the ride,” she says, turning to leave.

I watch her walk into the building. My first lead, and it’s a dead end… How disappointing.