I nodded, thinking of my conversation with Hawke. Graeme had been a police officer. Christ, how does one fall so far? I didn’t want to ask Borden about it because I felt like it was none of my business to pry, but I was damn curious. I kept staring at Graeme, past his current hungover state and into his soul. He was a good guy, even if he worked for a pretty bad one. In fact, now that I thought about it, most of the men that worked for Borden were pretty decent. Gerry, in particular, was the nicest guy in the world when he was around; smart, young and built like a football player. He talked to me sometimes, even opened up about going to night classes after work. It was like a normal 9 to 5 job for most of them. And then there was Hawke, who was still a jackass in a sense, but one I’d seen layers deep yesterday.

“Is Hawke here?” I asked Graeme curiously. “I didn’t see him around when I walked in. Did he go with Borden to the port?”

“No,” Graeme answered. “He’s off the radar at the moment. After the exchange with Borden, he’ll probably be missing for a while. That’s usually the way when they blow up.”

“That wasn’t the first time?”

He let out a hard laugh. “No way. They’ve argued many times, and it’s always in circles. Then Hawke storms off for a while, returns, and all is right in the world. Nobody talks about the argument, nobody says a word, and they carry on right where they left off.”

I laughed. “Bloody men.”

And with that, I turned to my computer and caught up on work.

*

Borden was at the port all day and didn’t make it to work. He stopped returning my texts afternoon, so I figured he was really busy. He wasn’t home either when I returned.

Graeme stepped into the apartment with me and sat in the living room while I made a quick call to my grandmother for a catch up. She sounded upbeat, like our dinner hadn’t gone to shit. When I got off the phone with her, I went to the bathroom and had a long shower. I’d just stepped out and wrapped a towel around my body when my cell phone rang. Thinking it was Borden, I didn’t look at the screen as I pressed the answer button.

“When are you getting here?” I asked him, smiling. “I miss you.”

“Emma?” cried a voice.

I stilled and my smile dropped. “Blythe? What’s going on? Why are you crying?”

“I need your help,” she begged, her voice cracked and hoarse. “I’m-I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean? Where are you?”

“I took that job at the titty bar a week ago, and today some of the guys got physical in a bad way. The person I hitch rides with isn’t here for work and the guys that touched me are standing out front of the bar. I don’t have a way home and I’m scared they’ll do something to me.”

My hold on the towel tightened. “There’s no one to help? None of the girls there or the boss –”

“Nobody gives a shit about me here! My shift is over which means I’m off the clock and they don’t give a fuck. I-I just don’t know what to do right now and I’m scared.”

“Are you able to call a taxi?”

“I don’t have any money, Emma. Besides, if there’s a taxi out front, what’s stopping them from grabbing me? They’re seedy and scary, and I know they’ll hurt me.” She took a few breaths. “Can you come get me?”

I ran a hand through my wet hair, pondering. “Blythe…I can’t just get out. I’m…I’m in a bind too.”

“What do you mean? How are you in a bind? I need you.”

“Things here are pretty fucked,” I tried to explain. “I’m not allowed to just get out and get you.”

“You’re not allowed? I don’t have anybody else! What am I meant to do? Let them rape me?”

I cringed. Shit. Fuck. “No, of course not,” I sighed. “Send me the address.”

“I’ll text you it right now. I don’t know it off by heart, I’ll have to ask someone.”

“You don’t know the address of the place you’re working at?”

“Just give me a second.” I heard her put the phone down and ask someone nearby, her voice muffled. When she got back to me, she sniffed and said, “Yeah, I got it now. Do you have a pen?”

I raced to the bedroom and grabbed a notepad and pen off the nightstand. “Yeah, give it to me.”

She told me the address and I hastily wrote it down. “Okay, Blythe, hang tight. I’ll be there, alright? Just don’t go anywhere and I’ll call you when I’m there.”

“Okay, Emma.”

I got off the phone and immediately changed into jeans and a shirt. It was freezing outside, close to snowfall, and I hadn’t blow dried my hair. But there was no time. I grabbed my phone and ran to the living room where Graeme was watching an episode of Cheaters on the massive television screen and shaking his head. “Fucking cheaters,” he muttered.

“Graeme!” I yelled hysterically.

He quickly turned back to look at me. “What? What is it?”

“It’s Blythe, Graeme. She’s in trouble. She’s holed up in a bar and needs a ride home. She’s feeling really threatened from a group of guys that have given her a hard time. We need to pick her up.”

He blinked at me, processing my words. “I don’t understand.”

I ripped the remote out of his hand and turned the television off just as a cheater went down on his knees to beg for forgiveness. “What is there not to understand? We have to pick her up!”

“First of all, do not yell at me, Emma.”

“Graeme, please –”

“Second of all, most of Borden’s men are at the port with him doing business with the bikers.”

“I don’t care about what they’re doing!”

“And third of all, do not yell at me again, and you should care about what they’re doing because you’re not allowed to roam the city without a group of men nearby –”

“Blythe needs to be picked up! I’m not looking to roam the city and have a freaking siesta or something!”

He blinked at me again. “What did I say about the yelling?”

I growled angrily, grinding out, “Graeme, she is in trouble.”

“She can wait several hours.”