My body stiffens just hearing her name from his lips. Vinny notices. “I’m sorry about that too. She knows him, I asked her to reach out to him. Nothing more.”

Inhaling a deep breath and exhaling slowly, I admit the truth, “I know.”

“You knew nothing happened?” surprised, he responds.

“Deep down I knew you were telling me the truth.”

“So why did you storm out?”

Unable to keep the truth from him when he’s being so open and honest, sheepishly, I come to terms with full disclosure. “I was jealous.”

“Jealous, huh?” I don’t have to look to know he’s smiling, but I glance up at him anyway.

“What are you smiling at?” I nudge him in the ribs playfully.

“You like me.” His smile widens.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

“A lot.”

Rolling my eyes, even though he can’t see me with his eyes on the road, “You’re full of yourself.”

“Maybe. But you’re hot for me anyway.”

Isn’t it the truth?

***

Hours later we pull into a parking lot of a small hotel. “He’s staying here?”

“No.”

“Do you need to rest?”

“No. I’m checking us in so you can stay safe while I go find him.”

“I want to go with you.” I loathe the sound that comes from my mouth, whiney and grating.

He parks near the main entrance and reaches into the back and grabs our bags. “You’re staying here where I know you’re safe.”

“But…”

“Liv, these people are drug addicts and dirtbags. I can’t be distracted with you there and keep us both safe while I find this loser.”

“So I’m a distraction?” My voice rises higher.

Hooking his arm around my neck, he pulls me close to him. “You’re a big f**king distraction,” he says without remorse to my face.

Insulted, I try to pull back from his grip, but my effort is fruitless. “Not so fast.” There’s an edge to his voice. He waits until he catches my eyes before continuing. “I’m f**king crazy about you, so yeah, you’re a big damn distraction. So how about you give me this one. Cut me some slack. Because the faster I find him, the faster I can be back and show you just how much you distract me.”

A strong sense of feminine satisfaction rolls over me, making me forget what I was even fighting for. Everything that came after ‘I’m f**king crazy about you’ unnecessary, he already had me convinced.

Chapter 40

Vince

Slipping the baseball bat I keep tucked underneath the seat of my truck out, I’m careful to keep quiet as I walk around the perimeter of the boarded up house that Jason’s supposed to be in, assessing my new surroundings. A rancid, plasticky smell wafts through the air and confirms I’m in the right place. The unmistakable smell of crack being smoked billows from a broken window, the only one not boarded up and covered in graffiti. Squatters den. A place that people wind up when they think they’ve hit rock bottom, only to find there’s a whole new level down they didn’t even know existed.

The door creeks as I try to slip inside undetected. It’s not the drug addicts I worry about, it’s the trigger happy dealers desperate to protect their stash. A few candles burn lighting the way, electricity likely turned off a long time ago. There’s three or four people sitting around a table with some folding chairs in the kitchen, none of them give a shit I’ve come in.

Two women lie half-baked on a ratty couch in the living room. One’s useless, eyes rolled back into her head, she couldn’t find a door in a f**king fire. The other notices me, gives a halfhearted attempt at a come-hither look and props her head up in her hand.

“You looking for something, honey?” She’s probably only in her late twenties, yet her teeth are rotted brown and it looks like she hasn’t had an easy life. One too many times around the block.

“Jason Buttles. Supposed to hook up with him. You see him?” Scares me how I can drop back into this life, communicate so easily.

“He’s gone. Left yesterday. Said something about a sister up north he was gonna stay with. Some scary dudes came looking for him this morning too. Guess he got out just in time.”

Fuck. “You know where up north?”

“Didn’t say. But if you see him, tell him he still owes Felicia a pack of smokes.”

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do when I find him…deliver your message.

I rummage through the house anyway looking for Jason, learning early in life to never trust the word of a junkie. Unfortunately a few more losers confirm Felicia’s story. Reaching the last closed door on the second floor, I use the flashlight on my cell phone to guide me through the darkness.

An electronic something illuminating in the corner of the bed takes me by surprise. A boy no older than ten looks up, grabbing a long pipe resting on the bed next to him. Holding up my hands in mock surrender, I quickly scope the room looking for any other signs of danger.

“Your mother live here?” I ask, seeing garbage bags in the corner with clothes spilling out all over the floor. Suitcase of the junkie.

Putting down the game he’s playing, but not the pipe, he keeps his distance, but not his manners. “None of your f**king business,” he scowls, foul language rolling from his tongue like it’s an ordinary occurrence.

“I’m not looking for trouble. Was looking for a friend, but I can see he’s not here.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Jason.”

“Guys a loser.” The corners of my mouth twitch, he’s a hundred percent right, but the kid’s got balls saying it to me.

“You’re right. He is. You live here?”

“For now.”

“Your mother Felicia?” I hope she is, the other one’s a bigger disaster.

“Nah, that’s my Mom’s friend.”

Damn, poor kid. “You eat?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I smile, smart kid. “Good. You shouldn’t. I’m not a bad guy. But you don’t know me.”

“My mom will probably bring me something to eat later.”

Saw her on the couch, not much of a chance of that happening tonight. Probably not tomorrow either, “I’ll get you something. Be back in a few minutes.”

***

Returning fifteen minutes later, no one has moved from where they lie. Knocking quietly on the door, the kid doesn’t answer, but I open it anyway. I toss the bag to him on the bed, careful not to get to close. I wait as he rummages through the bag, pulling out the sandwich and ripping the paper off in a fury. God knows when the last time he really ate was.