Yet if he’d helped, maybe Carmine would’ve made it home.
Home.
It seemed so far away to Drew now, and the night so late.
He had to be back at work in only a few hours.
…home…
A nagging question sprang to mind: Whose torn sneaker had Venge tossed from the bridge? He doubted it belonged to any of the sisters. He should’ve looked over the side, where the women had been looking when he first saw them. Maybe it was better he hadn’t.
“What do you mean you’re going to eat me?” Drew asked.
The older girls stopped whispering and leaned forward between the seats.
“She means what she says. We’ve been out all night. We’re hungry. We want to eat. But not until after you take us home,” Nameless told him.
“That’s nothing to joke about,” Drew said.
“I never joke about eating,” said Venge.
Her t
