Page 10 of The Broken Note

“Coming right up.” The guy flies around the counter.

I drop to a crouch in front of Cadey and grab her thigh.

She kicks at me. “What are you doing?”

I firm my grip and carefully wiggle her foot out of the worn shoes with the scuff marks all over it. She hisses and I move even slower, trying my best not to hurt her.

The shoe clops to the ground.

“Oof.” The shopkeeper stops behind me with the items I asked for. His nose scrunches. His eyes are locked on Cadey’s foot. “That must hurt.”

Fury whips through me at the sight of the blood staining her white socks. I feel the volatile darkness thrumming through my veins, aching to erupt in as violent and loud a manner as possible.

Another deep breath.

Another.

Another.

Cadey’s voice is soft, sheepish. “It looks worse than it feels.”

I tilt my head up and pin her with a look so heated that she curls back.

“I’m really okay, Dutch.” Her eyes skitter past me. Down. Up to the ceiling. To the condoms behind the counter. Her entire face turns red and she quickly looks away. “We’re wasting time here.”

“She’ll need slippers,” I address the shopkeeper in a thin voice. A false calm. Inside, I’m shaking. “And something to drink.”

“You got it.” He zips away.

I take the antiseptic and break the seal.

“Dutch.”

“You’ve been looking for Vi without a plan, and that obviously isn’t working.”Don’t shake, Dutch. Focus or you’ll hurt her.I dip a Q-tip into the medicine and scrape it over her wounds.

Cadence tries her best not to flinch. Her teeth got caught in her bottom lip again.

I clean up the blood and blow on her cuts to help with the sting.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Her voice warbles. Her fingers dig into the edge of the counter. Running around for hours with this severe of a wound must have really hurt.

I feel the anger surging up again and force myself to keep it locked away.

“What were you two arguing about tonight?”

She opens her mouth and I know she’s going to tell me off, so I speak ahead of her.

“Think about it. It might give us a clue to where she would go.”

Plastic rustles behind me. A moment later, the shopkeeper delivers a package of cheap, plastic flip-flops. He hands Cadence the drink too. She accepts it, and takes a sip.

I’m glad I don’t have to fight her on that.

“We were talking about…” Her throat bobs as she swallows. “It had something to do with my mom.”

She looks away, but I hear the pain in her voice.

“Your mom? Is it her death anniversary?”

---