Page 132 of Finders Keepers

“Ms. Lucy,” Gavin turns to her, his voice tight, “would you—”

“I’ll stay right here,” she nods, understanding immediately. “You two be careful, you hear me? And Bailey, don’t you dare try to handle this yourself.”

I nod quickly, already heading for the door, my purse clutched against my side. The evening air is hot and sticky as we rush to Gavin’s truck, the sky dark and threatening rain. He opens the passenger door for me before jogging around to the driver’s side, gravel crunching under his boots.

As we pull out of his driveway, I’m already pulling up the GPS on my phone. “Take the highway north,” I direct him. “It’s about an hour away, almost at the state line.”

His hands are tight on the steering wheel as he accelerates towards the highway, the engine roaring as we merge onto the main road. “Tell me about this place. What should we expect?”

I close my eyes, the memories washing over me like cold water. “It’s a u-shaped building, two stories, painted this awful faded yellow color. The office is on the right end. Room 218, that’s where we stayed before. It’s on the second floor, near the middle.” My voice catches, and I swallow hard. “The parking lot is small, and there’s a Coke machine by the stairs. The whole place smells like old cigarettes.”

“Bailey.” His voice is gentle. “What’s the plan here? We can’t just burst in there.”

“I…” trailing off I realize I haven’t thought that far ahead. I fumble with my fingers in my lap as panic threatens to overwhelm me. “I don’t know. But I can’t just sit and wait while my baby is with him. You don’t know what he’s capable of, Gavin. When his temper snaps…” I shudder, remembering the sound of shattering glass and the ache of his fist against my cheek.

“Bailey?” Gavin’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Can I hold your hand?”

The simple question pulls me back to the present. I blink, looking over at him. The dashboard lights cast a soft glow across his face, highlighting the concern on his face. His right hand rests on the center console, palm up, waiting.

“What?” I manage, my voice small.

“Your hand,” he says, glancing briefly from the road to me. “You’re shaking.”

I look down and realize he’s right.

“Oh.” I place my hand in his, and his warm fingers close around mine. The simple contact anchoring me to this moment, to this truck, to him.

“Deep breaths,” he reminds me, his thumb brushing gently across my knuckles.

The steady pressure of his hand in mine becomes a focal point, something real and solid to concentrate on instead of the terrifying possibilities spinning through my head.

“I’m scared, Gavin,” I admit, my voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

“I know,” he squeezes my hand. “But you’re not alone this time. We’re going to get Sophie, and we’re going to be smart about it.”

I nod, drawing strength from his certainty, from the way he says “we” without hesitation.

“Tell me more about Matt,” he says after a few minutes of tense silence. “The more I know, the better prepared I’ll be.”

I swallow hard, my throat tight with fear and memories. “He’s…unpredictable. He can be charming when he wants to be, that’s how he fooled me for so long. But when things don’t go his way…” I trail off, then force myself to continue, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s not very patient. And when he drinks, that’s when he’s, his worst. He becomes someone else entirely.”

Gavin’s jaw clenches, and his hand tightens on mine. I see a muscle twitch in his jaw. “Has he ever hurt Sophie?”

“No,” I shake my head quickly, the words tumbling out. “Never. That’s one line he hasn’t crossed. But she’s seen…she’s seen him hurt me. That’s why we left. I couldn’t let her grow up thinking that, that kind of behavior was normal.”

The truck accelerates slightly, and he squeezes my hand slightly. The engine growls louder as we pass another car. “We’ll get her back,” he repeats, his voice hard with determination. “I promise you that, Bailey. He won’t hurt either of you ever again.”

Igrip the door handle so tightly my knuckles turn white as Gavin pulls into the motel parking lot. Without waiting for him to fully stop, I unbuckle my seatbelt and jump out, my legs already moving before my feet hit the ground as I rush toward the office, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged animal. I hear him call my name, but I don’t stop. I pull open the door and the harsh fluorescent lights inside buzz and flicker overhead as I approach the front desk where a young woman with bright purple hair sits, scrolling mindlessly through her phone with a bored expression, her long acrylic nails clicking against the screen.

“Please, I need your help,” I say breathlessly, pulling up a picture of Sophie on my phone. “My daughter’s been taken by her father. Have you seen them? She’s five, blonde hair, blue eyes.”

The woman barely glances at my phone, her expression unchanged. “Ma’am, I can’t give out any customer information. That’s against policy,” she drones, as if reciting from a manual.

Gavin steps up beside me, his tall frame casting a shadow over the desk, his presence steady. “This is serious. We’re talking about a kidnapped child. A little girl who needs help.”

She looks up, clearly annoyed at being bothered, popping her gum. “Look, I already told you—”

“Just… please,” I interrupt, my voice cracking with desperation. “Just tell me if you’ve seen them. That’s all I’m asking. I’m begging you.”

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