“Hell no.” Leigh was already shaking her head. She knew what the obvious place was. “That’s insanity. He’ll find you in a heartbeat. If you could see the photos of what Andrew did to—”
“Stop.” Callie did not have to be told what Buddy Waleski’s son was capable of. “I want to do this. I am going to do this. It’s not a matter of asking for your permission.”
Leigh pressed together her lips again. “I’ve got cash. I can get more. I’ll set you up wherever you like.”
Callie was not, could not, leave the only place she had known as her home. But she knew about another option, one that would make sense to anybody who had ever met her. She could leave Binx in the care of Dr. Jerry. She could take all the drugs in the locked cabinet and Kurt Cobain would be giving her a solo performance of “Come As You Are” before the sun went down.
“Cal?” Leigh said.
Her brain was too caught up in the Cobain loop to answer.
“I need—” Leigh grabbed her hand again, pulling her out of the fantasy. “I need you, Calliope. I can’t fight off Andrew unless I know you’re okay.”
Callie looked down at their intertwined hands. Leigh was the only connection she had left to anything that resembled a normal life. They only saw each other in desperate times, but the knowledge that her sister would always be there had gotten Callie out of countless dark, seemingly hopeless situations.
No one ever talked about how lonely addiction could be. You were vulnerable when you needed a fix. You were completely unguarded when you were high. You always, no matter what, woke up alone. Then there was the absence of other people. You were isolated from your family because they didn’t trust you. Old friends fell away in horror. New friends stole your shit or were afraid you would steal theirs. The only people you could talk to about your loneliness were other junkies, and the nature of addiction was such that no matter how sweet or generous or kind you were in your heart, you were always going to choose your next fix over any friendship.
Callie couldn’t be strong for herself, but she could be strong for her sister. “You know I can take care of myself. Give me some cash so I can get this over with.”
“Cal, I—”
“The three Fs,” Callie said, because they both knew the obvious place had an entrance fee. “Hurry up before I lose my nerve.”
Leigh reached into her purse. She retrieved a thick envelope. She had always been good with money—scrimping, saving, hustling, only investing in the things that would bring back more money. To Callie’s expert eye, she was looking at five grand.
Instead of handing it all over, Leigh peeled away ten twenty-dollar bills. “We’ll start with this?”
Callie nodded, because they both knew if she had all the money at once it would end up in her veins. Callie turned in the seat, facing forward again. She slipped off her sneaker. She counted out $60, then asked Leigh, “Give me a hand?”
Leigh reached down and tucked three twenties inside Callie’s shoe, then helped her slide it back on. “Are you sure about this?”
“No.” Callie waited for Leigh to wrangle Binx back into the carrier before she got out of the car. She unzipped her pants. She tucked the rest of the cash like a pad into the crotch of her underwear. “I’ll call you so you have my phone number.”
Leigh unpacked the car. She put the carrier down on the ground. She hugged the lumpy pillowcase to her chest. Guilt flooded her face, permeated her breath, overwhelmed her emotions. This was why they only saw each other when shit got bad. The guilt was too much for either of them to bear.
“Hold on ,” Leigh said. “This is a bad idea. Let me take you—”
“Harleigh.” Callie reached for the pillowcase. The muscles in her neck screamed in protest, but she worked to keep it off her face. “I’ll check in with you, okay?”
“Please,” Leigh said. “I can’t let you do this, Cal. It’s too hard.”
“‘Everything’s hard for everybody.’”
Leigh clearly didn’t like having her own words quoted back to her. “Callie, I’m serious. Let’s get you out of here. Buy me some time to think about …”
Callie listened to her voice trail off. Leigh had thought about it. The thinking was what had brought them both here. Andrew was letting Leigh believe that he’d bought her Iowa dairy farm story. If Trap was telling the truth, Andrew had already sent out his investigator to locate Callie. When that happened, Callie would be ready for him. And when Andrew sprung it on Leigh, she wouldn’t spin off into a paranoid freakshow.