“You reacted badly when you found out he was with Ash.”

At the very sound of that, my body jerks with pain.

“I know.”

“Care to tell me why?” he asks, taking a step towards me, still studying my face.

“I can’t tell you why. It made no sense to me, either. It came as such a shock, it confused me. I was hurt, inexplicably hurt. Since then things have changed between us—it's like we’ve gone from being close to having sexual tension and it seems . . . wrong.”

“Why?” he asks, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“He saved me; he’s taken care of me for five years now. He’s never tried anything; he’s never made any moves towards me. Now suddenly we’re staring at each other like we want to rip each other’s clothes off. I feel as though it’s not right, I mean . . . he’s been taking care of me like . . . like a father . . . for so long.”

Mack snorts. “Honey, Maddox was never, ever pretending to be your father. That man has had eyes for you from the moment you turned eighteen.”

“He has not,” I protest.

“You fuckin’ blind? He’s controlling because he fuckin’ wants you.”

“If he wants me, why doesn’t he say so?” I ask, throwing my hands on my hips.

“Because he thinks you deserve better.”

That slams into my chest like a sledgehammer. I’ve always been a brat to Maddox, sure, but I never knew he cared about me in a sexual kind of way. Until recently, he’d never made any kind of move towards me. He’s always kept his distance and been hard, a little too hard, actually.

“He’s wrong about that. It's him who deserves better.”

Mack narrows his eyes, and his expression hardens. “You really think that?”

I nod, not even hesitating. “Maddox is a good man. He saved my life, and gave me a second chance. I’d be nothing without him, but he deserves a loyal old lady who is going to adore him, not some washed up junkie brat who is a thorn in his side.”

Mack studies me for so long I squirm. “Do you really see yourself like that?”

“Not entirely,” I admit. “But I still think I’m not right for him, and that won’t change.”

“But you’re right for that uppity girl-boy who is takin’ you out.”

“Alec is a good, caring man. He can make me a good woman, a real woman. If I stay with Maddox forever, I’m always going to be his burden.”

“You ain’t his burden, chante,” Mack says, his voice going softer.

“Aren’t I?” I say, my voice shaking. “I’m the one who causes all his heartache. He’s always put everything towards taking care of me, and he still fucks club whores when we know there are plenty of good girls out there to be his old lady. If I move on, and find my own life, maybe he’ll find his.”

“You really want that?” Mack asks. “You really think it’s going to be easy to see him fallin’ for another woman?”

At that very thought, my entire stomach twists angrily, but I don’t admit it. The truth is, Maddox deserves a good woman who isn’t always fighting him, and I deserve to get away from a complicated life and just live normally.

“Yes,” I answer, but my voice is still shaky. “If she was good for him, yes.”

He shakes his head, almost sadly. “You’re foolin’ yourself if you think you two don’t belong together.”

Then he turns and walks towards the front door. “Pack your shit. I’ll wait out front.”

Great. Now I’ve pissed two men off in one morning.

CHAPTER TEN

2008 – Santana

Pippa trembles in my arms. I rub her shoulders, trying to keep her warm. It’s been twenty-four hours since Kennedy’s mom kicked us out, and we’ve been too frightened to go home. If she’s there, or the police, it could end badly. Instead, we’re huddled behind the bus stop over the road, just watching.

Pippa is freezing. She really has nothing to fall back on, she’s so skinny, and that’s scary. If she gets too cold, she could die. That’s just how simple this is.

A flash of headlights causes my head to jerk up. A car arrives at Kennedy’s house, then another, then another. My eyes widen as I peer through the small gap in the middle.

That’s a whole lot of cars. I pull Pippa closer, staring as a heap of men in black clothes get out. One of them yells in the general direction of the house, “Get out here, Kennedy.”

They want Kennedy? But he isn’t here.

“You got three seconds, Kennedy. You owe us, and we’re tired of waiting.”

My heartbeat races as I stare through the gaps. A man, a really big man, walks up to the windows and raises a gun, shooting. The window smashes and Pippa makes a squealing sound. I press a hand over her mouth. “Shhh, if they hear you . . .”

“One,” the man yells.

Kennedy isn’t there, I want to scream it at them, but of course I’m not going to do that.

“Two,” he yells again.

Another gunshot is sent through the window.

“Three!”

At least eight men charge the front door, kicking it down. I watch in horror as lights come on in all of the rooms. About ten minutes later, they come out and huddle about, chatting amongst themselves. Then they get in their cars and leave.

That wasn’t good. I know it.

I tuck Pippa closer, and pull a jacket around us. I watch the house for hours and hours, even when the early light of the morning comes shining through my little gap. That’s when another car arrives. I squint and see Kennedy get out. He looks terrible, but it’s him, and he’s alone. I wait for a minute before shaking Pippa awake.