The Departed

soft, broken sob came from Ivy.
    “Sweetie, it’s okay, I’ll get her out.”
    “No. You…” Ivy lifted her face to stare at Dez. “She’s right. Oh, God, you’re right…”
    She started to sob. As her mother leaned over and wrapped her arms around her, she glared at Dez. “How can you upset her like this? You have no idea what happened to her!”
    Ivy shoved her away. “Shut up, Mom! Yes, she does. Don’t you know who she is? Oh, God. Lady, I’m so sorry.”
    “Ivy…” Dez sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Sweetheart, it’s okay.”
    “No. No, it’s not.” She swallowed and eased away from her mom, batting away the hands that tried to hold her. She made her way to the edge of the bed and just sat there, her feet barely touching the floor. She looked so young, so scared.
    Her eyes met Dez’s, held them. “Mom. Joey…this is the woman who found me.” She looked away from Dez to the man—Joey—and then back over her shoulder to her mom. “She saved my life. And I’m sorry if it upsets you, but you know what? She’s right. I’m not going to sleep knowing that freak is out there.”
    “Oh, God.” The woman stood up, lifting a hand to her mouth. “You…”
    Dez hunched her shoulders up, tuning the mom out. She didn’t want this, didn’t need it. She moved forward and when Ivy lifted a hand, she caught it in hers. “Do you know who he is?”
    “No.” Ivy shook her head and tears glimmered in her eyes, so dark and soft.
    Bambi eyes, Dez thought. Absently, she reached up and brushed a strand of hair back from the girl’s face. “Okay. Is it that you can’t remember all of it?”
    “I…I don’t know.” Ivy looked away and sighed. The tears slid free and she reached up, wiped them away. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet, though. Can I…can I take some time? I’m supposed to come back down here. Talk to the cops in a few days. Can I talk then?”
    “Nobody can make you talk at all,” Dez said softly. “But if you really want peace, if you want to fight and take back what he took…your best bet will be to talk. But nobody can make you do it.”
    Ivy looked down, plucking at her gown. “I don’t want to sleep because I hear his voice. I don’t think it will stop, maybe not ever. But if I don’t try…” She shook her head. “I think I want to talk.” Then she nodded, slowly. “Yeah. I think I need to.”
    “Brave girl,” Dez murmured. She pressed a gentle kiss to Ivy’s forehead. “Brave girl.”
    “I’m not brave.” Her breathing hitched in her chest. “I’m so scared. I think I’ll always be scared.”
    “Baby, it’s completely possible to be scared and brave at the same time. Being brave sometimes means doing what you’re scared of.” She chucked the girl under the chin. Then she reached into her pocket. With a mental wince, she realized she was running damn low on her cards. “Here. You ever want to talk, call me. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. But that’s a personal number. Confidential and all. Just for you, not your folks, not the cops. Just you.”
    After one more smile for the girl, she turned and walked away. Out in the hallway, she heard the guy—a stepfather?—calling out to her. She ignored him. She had no desire to talk to him or to the girl’s mom. Not anybody.
    She just wanted her bed. Damn it, she was tired.
    “YOU going to tell me what’s going on?”
    Taylor looked away from his study of the parking lot and found Blake studying him.
    “Right now?” Taylor checked his watch and then looked back up at the cop. “Not much of anything, thank God.”
    Blake made a disgusted sound and flopped down into the chair across from Taylor, staring at him.
    Taylor ignored him. He was waiting for Dez to leave. She’d disappeared some twenty minutes ago, to the fourth floor, where they’d moved Ivy. Taylor hadn’t been at all surprised, and if he had her pegged right, she’d be down here in no time flat. She’d want to check on the girl, comfort her a bit, and then she’d beat a fast retreat.
    The parents were already trying to get information on her, but Taylor had put out word to keep Dez’s personal information just that—personal. It wouldn’t have worked well elsewhere, but it was working here. So far.
    Fortunately, Ivy’s folks weren’t from around here; otherwise they’d know all they had to do was loiter around town and make conversation with the locals. People there had already ferreted out her name.