Page 19 of Stay Baby Stay

I let him guide me to a table, which is surprisingly quiet. He takes the side facing the door, and I take the booth facing the wall so I can’t see the other diners. Out of sight, out of mind. That’s the idea, anyway. Sometimes the trick even works.

He hands me a menu and tells me to order whatever I want. When our server arrives, I stumble over my words. Cal orders for both of us: two coffees plus an order of chocolate-chip pancakes with bacon, two scrambled eggs, and a side of wheat toast.

“Thanks,” I tell him when we’re alone again. “I hope you’re planning to eat some of that.”

He shakes his head. My foot bounces under the table as we wait for our coffees. Cal studies me with a familiar intensity that makes me self-conscious, but not nervous. Not like the old men last night, or the driver who took Kenzie away.

“When was the last time you saw McKenzie?” he asks.

“Last night, at the party. A few minutes after I...climbed off your lap.” My cheeks warm at the memory. I command myself to focus. “She went off in a black SUV to some guy’s house. Apparently, he wanted toenjoy the pleasure of her companyin private.”

“What kind of SUV was it?”

I close my eyes and try to picture Kenzie climbing into the back. “I don’t remember. Fuck...”

He reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”

My insides melt like chocolate at the warmth in his tone. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to break down my defenses. The man lied to me about who he was.

Seeing him again filled me with joy, like helium filling a balloon. Learning the truth felt like someone taking a pin to that joy. Yet, when he pulled me into his arms in the parking lot, I couldn’t bring myself to push him off. Somehow, my body recognized him on a deeper level, in a place where names and histories and titles mean nothing. Where the only language spoken is through a comforting embrace.

If he’d told me,I’ll keep you safe forever, in that moment, I’d have believed every word.

“Did you see anyone else inside the vehicle?” he asks. His thumb sweeps gently along mine, a silent apology for having to interrogate me.

“No, but it was really dark.” I take a sip of ice water. “I saw the driver again today, at the motel.”

His brow crimps. “What motel’s that?”

“The Budget Stays Motel on Magnolia Ave, where Kenzie and I live. I work there.” I glance down at the table so I don’t have to see the pity in his gaze. “I saw him talking to my manager. He had a gun on him.”

“Did he see you?”

I shake my head. “I ran up to see if Kenzie was in the room, but she wasn’t. The place had been ripped apart.”

Our server returns with coffees. I add cream and too much sugar to mine, while Cal drinks his coffee black. He asks me to walk him through the whole night and morning, from the time Kenzie and I got picked up to the time I arrived at the police station. I tell him everything I can remember, and a few things I wish I could forget.

The server brings my breakfast and refills Cal’s coffee. As soon as the scent of bacon and syrup hits my nose, I dig in, ravenous from having not eaten a full meal in almost twenty-four hours.

When I finally come up for breath, Cal’s still watching me.

“Sorry,” I mumble, embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry, Holly.” His mouth tilts into a smile. “You’re doing great. Now, what did the driver who took Kenzie look like?”

“He was bald, at least six feet tall, really thin. He wore dark clothing and a black leather jacket. This morning he had two black eyes, like he’d been in a fight. I didn’t get close enough to see his eye color. I just remember his eyes looked...mean. Like, chill inducing, you know?”

He nods like he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Did you get a look at the guy’s license plate?”

“Not a clear look.” I’m suddenly furious with myself for not even thinking to memorize the guy’s license plate. “I’m pretty sure it had Tennessee colors.”

“That’s a good start,” he says, though I’m convinced he’s only saying it to be nice. “The woman who invited McKenzie to the party. Steph?” he asks. I nod. “How’d the two of them hook up?”

“McKenzie is—or, was—a waitress at a bar downtown. She got fired. Steph came in for a drink, saw it happen, and I guess they started talking.”

“Does Steph have a last name?” Cal downs a good portion of his coffee. I scan the remains of the huge spread in front of me.

“Not one I know of,” I say. “Do you want some of my toast?”

---