A thousand questions wanted to tumble out of Harley’s mouth, and demand immediate answers. Like how and when had Pammy gotten here? Had she seen anybody else they knew? Where was she staying, was she at that hotel too? But everything else took a back seat to the most important question of all.
“Are you okay, Red?”
Something seemed really wrong with the woman that Harl considered nearly a sister. That hand squeeze had been a paltry thing. And her voice was usually sultry with round tones, but right now? It was weak and puny. Added to the fact that Poison Ivy had seemed too delicate to hug, it equaled something being so far off with her best friend that Harley nearly wanted to cry.
Or punch something.
Probably punch something.
“You need to get near some green things, and away from this all concrete and sand.” Even the bench they were sitting on was concrete. Probably to keep it from eroding in the salty air, but it wasn’t what Pammy needed right now. “ C’mon, Red, I’ll help ya.”