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urged, heading toward the coat rack to grab her jacket and scarf.

In fact, she knew they had to find him. Something was wrong. Something was going to happen. Something bad. She didn’t know what. She hadn’t touched him, hadn’t had the chance to offer her hand to him in order to feel his emotions, but she didn’t really need to lay hands.

His anguish, his intensity because of his pain was written all over his face. Justin should be preparing for his life, living, laughing with his friends, going to parties, and instead he was babysitting his drunk mother.

It incited her to a new level of anger—one she’d never experienced before—and she wanted to help him because she understood. But first, she had to get to him. Whatever was digging a hole in her gut said as much.

Dex turned to the group sitting at the scratched coffee table, his eyes concerned. “Is everyone okay to get home? Rides secure? Text chain in place so I know everyone’s safe?”

Marty jumped up, smoothing her hands over her jeans and sweater before waving one at them. “We’ve got this, guys. We’ll make sure everyone gets home safely. Nina? You go with, yes?” She gave her friend that look with her eyes that said protect at all costs.

She nodded, her silky black hair shimmering under the harsh light of the outdated overhead fan. “Got it. And dudes?” she said with a grin to the children. “Don’t think this is over—because it ain’t. I’m gonna come back and whoop your scrawny butts!” And then she laughed, and so did the kids.

As they all headed down the wobbly, semi-rotting front stairs, desperately in need of a paint job, George took a deep breath of the cold air, trying to quell her nerves.

“It’s just around the corner. I’ll drive,” Nina offered, popping open Marty’s big SUV. They all jumped in and the vampire gunned the car, heading toward town. Dex reached for George’s hand.

“It’s going to be okay. Justin will be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”

“His mother’s drunk, Dex. That’s never okay. A kid Justin’s age shouldn’t be out protecting his mother from other drunks,” she spat, her anger rising hot in her throat.

As they rounded the corner, the white scenery flashing by, she swallowed when the neon lights of the Rusty Red Barn came into view, clinging to Dex’s hand, her palms sweaty.

The Rusty Red Barn was just that—a red shambling barn, falling apart in some places and surely defying gravity at this point in its life.

It had been around since she was a kid and she knew it well. Too well. The outside was dilapidated and worn, the split rail fence that had once made a pathway to the door now broken and splintered, the parking lot gravel covered in a light dusting of snow with drifts as tall as she was.

Motorcycles lined a small coral and two or three beat-up cars sat side by side.

And just under the garish sign with two letters out, blinking for all it was worth, was Justin, his fingers over his nose, making her catch her breath.

He was hurt. Someone had hit him.

Anger swished along her nerve endings with raw, unadulterated energy, leaving her infuriated to the point of almost blind rage.

Nina had barely pulled the car to a screeching halt before George was out the back door, unmindful of her heels or the snow as she ran toward Justin, who stormed back into the bar before she could catch him.

Dex and Nina were at her heels, but George could only see red as she pushed open the creaky doors, the jukebox blasting, “Freebird” greeting her ears and the stench of sweat and cheap beer lodging in her nose.

Someone had hit a child, and that would not stand. Not ever again would someone smaller, someone vulnerable and blinded by fear and loyalty be hurt on her watch.

Never again.

Chapter 17

“Whoa, there, Wings.” Nina grabbed her by the arm, jerking her backward, her fingers like bands of steel. “Dial that shit back. You seen some of the dudes in here? I’m a badass bitch, but I need to scope this shit out and have a plan before we get jumpy. Calm the fuck down and let me assess.”

She looked up at the vampire in impatient astonishment. “You can’t be serious. You, of all people, want to make a plan? What happened to all the face-eating and throat-shitting?”

Her eyes instantly narrowed to slits in her head. Aw, heck. Tower of Terror was displeased.

“Listen here, girlie, you be careful how far you fucking go with me, got that? I’m a tough bitch. I can take all these motherfuckers with my eyes closed, but I’m not a dumb bitch. I like knowing what I’m up against. Now shut the fuck up, locate GD Justin—with your eyes—and settle down. You got that?”

Dex stepped between the women as the scant customers peered at them from their dark corner tables. Pushing George behind him, he looked at Nina and, as cheerful as ever, said, “Ten-four, good buddy. We have complete and total understanding.” And then he dropped a very clearly impulsive kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for being here for us, Nina. You’re the tops.”

She swatted at him. “Get the fuck off me, weirdo, and you fucking better have complete and total motherfucking understanding,” she warned with a hiss as she turned to eyeball the ten or so customers scattered throughout the smoky bar.

The bartender—Lonnie, she presumed, a small, reed-thin man who looked overwhelmed by the rough-and-tumble patrons—gave them a curt nod and went back to minding his own business by drying some glasses.

The bar sprawled across the length of the space, dulled from years of neglect. Empty beer bottles lie on the floor along with some crushed peanut shells. A bowl of pretzels was tipped over, scattering them all over the surface of the bar and the cracked red stools.

George’s heart pumped fast and furious in her chest, thumping to the beat of the

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