“You want to go out. On Saturday night. Really.” I look across the small table at the coffee shop at Sydney who’s fidgeting with the sleeves of her green sweater, avoiding my gaze.

She called me, said she wanted to meet up, and this is the first thing she has to ask me?

She gives me an uncertain smile. “Yes. It’s another party. It will be fun.”

Fun. When every time she leaves me alone to go buy drugs, like I assume she does, and I have to go looking for her.

“Please, Gigi. I need you there. You don’t know…” She swallows hard. “Please. I promise we will have fun.”

“Syd, look…”

And I stop.

I really look at her. She has dark circles under her eyes. She looks like crap. She looks desperate, and honestly, I don’t know what to do about her.

She’s scaring me. Worry is eating at my stomach like acid. I should talk to her parents, only they haven’t been around in a long while.

I should talk to her friends.

She’s been my friend for so long, the person I told everything. She knows about my fears, about my nightmares. Something’s going on with her, and she’s not ready to talk. And she puts herself in danger, and that really sucks, but if I don’t go with her, I’m sure she’ll still go. Without me.

Without anyone to have her back. If anything happens to her, it’s on me.

Also going with her I may have a chance to figure out what’s going on, and to get her to open up and talk to me. Plus, if her boy harem is around, I could talk to them as well. That’d be a bonus.

And if Jarett is around…

No. I have to stop expecting that. What are the odds that he’ll be there every single time Syd and I go out? After all, I hadn’t seen him in years, and it’s not like I stayed at home and said my prayers at night until then.

Then again, a little voice points out in my mind, you only started seeing him the moment Sydney started taking you out to places where she met with drug dealers and gangsters.

Gangsters.

A gang.

Oh my God.

“Gigi? Will you go with me?” Sydney is staring at me, a pleading look in her eyes.

Pushing back my chair, I grab my jacket, and mutter something about having to go and calling her later.

She’s distraught, and I barely notice because right now I’m kind of distraught, too.

I have to talk to my brother.

* * *

Merc doesn’t answer his phone. The phone at home rings and rings, and nobody picks up.

On a hunch, I head to Mancave, the garage my brother-in-law and his brother have opened on the outskirts of town. Merc likes to hang out there and tinker with engines.

Not that he’s a good mechanic. But I think he likes hanging out with the guys, Matt and Kaden, and shoot the shit with them. My brother-in-law, Matt, seems to be a good influence on him. Calm and measured, he’s much older than my sister, and is like a cross between a father and a brother to me and Merc. At least that’s how he acts, and my brother likes it.

As for me, sometimes I want to roll my eyes so hard. I don’t need a father. I did fine without one all my life. But I do appreciate how Matt helped us move out of Destiny, helped Mom pay her debts and got us into college. I’ll never forget his kindness when we most needed it, and how he did his best to take care of all of us.

And I’m glad Merc has someone older and trustworthy to talk to, since he won’t talk to me about this girl trouble he’s in. Hopefully Matt gives him good advice. God knows I’m no expert on matters of the heart.

I gave my heart away long ago, to Jarett, and I have little hope of ever getting it back.

Shaking off the morose thoughts, I climb off the bus and walk briskly across the street and into the dim interior of the workshop. It’s a familiar place for me these days—the gutted cars, the shelves overflowing with car parts and tools, the smell of oil and gasoline.

I don’t see anyone around, not even my sister who sometimes helps out with the paperwork. The small office is empty, the computer screen dark.

I enter the second bay, and there they are, huddled around an exposed car engine, three heads bent together, one dark and two blond. The dark one is Matt, the one with the ponytail is Kaden, his brother, and the other is Merc.

Score.

I wander closer, peek at the engine. It looks… perfectly engine-like to me. “What’s wrong with it?” I ask, and have the satisfaction of seeing them all jump.

Nothing like some good old boy torture, especially when it comes to family members. I mean, who can you play pranks on if not your own brother?

“Gigi,” said brother mutters.

“In the flesh.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might need help fixing this engine? No? I was just checking.” I wink at Kaden who’s pretty hot, but sadly married and also sort of like a brother to me, too. “Then I guess you’re all fine.”

Kaden laughs.

Matt looks confused. “Did you need something? Octavia is at home with the kids, she didn’t come in today.”

“I just wanted to talk to my brother.”

Merc’s attention is back on the engine, so I kick at him. He looks up, startled. “What? Me?”

“I only have the one brother. Well, apart from our douche half-brother.”

Yeah, we have a half-brother back in Destiny. Ross, the bully. My sister wants to save him, but I doubt that’s possible, or desirable. Let him rot there.

Merc gives a long-suffering sigh, but then shoots me a grin. “What’s up?”

“I want to talk to you alone.” I grab his hand and tug. “Come on.”

“But…”

“Just for five minutes, Mercury.”

“Go on,” Matt says, his gaze amused. “The engine will still be here after five minutes.”

This time Merc’s sigh is heavier, but he lets me pull him away and into the small, stuffy office. “What do you want, Gigi?”

I let go of his bigger hand and close the door, then start pacing up and down the scant five feet between the desk and the wall, chewing on the end of my ponytail.

Where to start?

“Gigi.” Merc parks his ass on the desk and folds his arms over his chest. “What is the matter? You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I wave an impatient hand at him. “It’s just… something you said the other night. About Jarett.”

“Shit, again with that guy?” Merc growls a curse. “He’s bad news, sis.”

“About that.” I turn toward him and fold my arms under my breasts, mirroring his pose. “Tell me what you know. You said something about a gang.”

“Yeah, well.” He drops his arms at his sides, then lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck. “What about it?”

“Tell me more. About this gang, and how he’s involved.”

“What’s to tell?” Merc grumbles. “It’s a gang. They hang around trying to look cool, and sometimes steal things and sell drugs. They’re bad guys, Gigi. You should stay away from them.” He frowns. “Away from Jarett.”

I turn away and take a deep breath. He’s right, of course. It’s exactly what I’ve been telling myself.

But I’m here to understand something, and I think maybe I got it.

Drugs. Sydney is looking for drugs. Jarett may be a member of a gang dealing drugs.

Is that the connection I’ve been missing? The reason why Jarett is always around when Sydney gets into trouble?

“You don’t even know if it’s true that he’s in a gang,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. “It’s all hearsay.”

“Look…” He gets up and comes to stand beside me. “His brother is in a gang, I know that for sure. A small gang, sure, relatively new, but word on the street is that they’re trying to move on to bigger things. Worse things.”

“Like what?”

“Bigger drug deals? Selling guns? I dunno for sure. But I heard that they’re at every rave party and every bar and club where drug lords hang out. And Jarett goes wherever his brother goes, and that alone, sis, is fucking bad news. Those are dangerous people. I don’t want you hurt.”

“I won’t be. Don’t worry.” So here, then is the connection. Drugs, like I thought. I slump against the wall. But God, why would Jarett go wherever his brother goes? His brother’s an asshole, and I just can’t…

Can’t accept Jarett’s the same.

And that’s exactly my problem. I like Jarett way too much, so I can’t accept he’s bad news. I equate good looks with kindness, and integrity, apparently.

Awesome. It’s a common mistake. One Merc is trying to make me see, and avoid.

But what he doesn’t know is that it’s too late. I made that mistake three years ago, and I still haven’t found a way to break away.

* * *

At the car honk from outside, I step out of the house and quickly close the door behind me. I run down the porch steps and around Sydney’s car.

She grins at me as I climb inside the passenger seat and blow on my hands to warm them. “Ready?”

Am I? I’m wearing a sexy dress and my high heels, and I spent way too much on my hair and make-up. I feel like a high-school girl going to the prom.

Ridiculous.

What sort of person does it make me that I’m excited to go out with Sydney, even if it means she’ll go looking for drugs and trouble, on the off chance I might see Jarett?

That I care less about the fact she’s looking for drugs and more about the possibility of Jarett being around?

Sick. This is sick. And I should stop.

But I can’t, can’t stop the way I feel, the way my heart is racing and my face gets hot, the way my belly tightens with desire at the thought of seeing him again.

“Where are we going?” I glance outside the car window, not seeing anything, as she drives back toward the city. “Another frat party?”

“No.” She seems focused on the road, but her eyes flicker, as if she’s in deep thought. “Not this time.”

Great. “I trust you. You know that.”

She glances quickly sideways at me, mouth quirking in a faint smile. “I know.”

“But Syd… when will you tell me more about what’s going on?” At her silence, I plunge on. “You know I love you like a sister. I worry about you.”

“You shouldn’t worry.”

“How can you say that? I watch you meet with drug dealers, I watched Jarett fight them off you—”

“I never asked him to interfere.”

But I did. I don’t say that. “He was trying to protect you.”

She shakes her head, her expression hardening. “I was fine.”

“Tell me this: do you do drugs?”

“I don’t, Gigi.” Another glance my way.

But her gaze doesn’t linger, and I can’t tell if she’s telling the truth.

“What about your friends? Your boys. Do they know?”

“Know what? Nothing’s happened.” Her mouth settles into a thin line. “Will you let this go?”

“For now.” I sigh and let my head drop back, let the hum of the car engine and the rock music playing low on the radio calm me. It’s been a long week, lots of classes and quizzes and worry. “Will your boys be at the party tonight?”

A shrug. “I don’t know.”

I blink. “What?” The four of them have always been inseparable. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. They’re not my boys. We’re just friends. They do their thing, I do mine.”

“You guys fought?”

“No. We’re good.”

But you’ve always done everything together, I want to say. You’ve been attached at the hip since forever. All four of you.

What else happened? What isn’t she telling me?

Is this why she’s doing drugs? Because she’s sad? I mean, here’s the thing. No matter how hard I try, no matter what she says, I saw her with those guys, with that girl in that back alley. I saw the small plastic bags. So I’m not sure I can believe her.

I think she’s lying to me.

About more than just this.

And I’m going to find out the truth.

* * *

We park on a side street and walk down a long alley, our heels clicking way too loud in the eerie quiet. I keep glancing over my shoulder, expecting to be assaulted.

Not cool.

I open my mouth to tell Sydney that I’m calling an Uber to go back home, when she stops and raps her fist on a big metal door.

“Where are we?” I hiss at her, still glancing around me uneasily. “What is this place?”

“It’s a night club. Java Bar.”

I’ve rarely been to this side of town, and never to this nightclub. “And why are we here?”

“A friend invited me.”

The bouncer, a huge gorilla, looks us over, his lip curling, and a look I don’t like entering his beady eyes.

Then he nods and opens the door wider, letting us enter.

“It’s a great party,” Sydney says, smiling and tugging on my sleeve. “Come on.”

She steps inside, and I follow cautiously, arms wrapped around myself, unease curling in my gut.

In retrospect, I should have expected this. I knew what was coming, but my mind had cheerfully disconnected the nightmare from the fantasy of finding Jarett again.

Smoke curls in the spotlights, and to the thump of a heavy beat, bodies move, jerk and twist, the light catching on their faces, their hands, glowing lines on their clothes.

A round bar is set up in the middle of the vast space, luminescent, a glowing donut galaxy floating in space. We wade through the writhing, dancing crowd, heading toward it, and the glazed smiles and dazed eyes I notice in passing don’t bode well.

Oh yeah, lots of drugs here.

Jesus. A rave party.

“Syd, wait.” I hurry after her, catch her elbow—but a shove from a guy passing by loosens my grasp. “Don’t you dare go off and leave me.”

But of course she can’t hear me. I can barely hear myself think in the deafening beat of the electronic music, and the thump of hundreds of feet jumping and stomping and shuffling on the floor.

Crap. This is my fault, for agreeing to come along.

Just don’t let her out of your sight, I order myself. Not for a second. Stick to her like a tick, don’t let her take a step alone.

You’ve got this.

But as it turns out, I don’t even have to try. Sydney turns and waits for me to catch up, then hooks her arm over mine and drags me to the bar where we leave our jackets.

And then we dance.

We dance and dance and dance, only stopping to grab a drink, and then returning to the beat.

It’s like the past few weeks haven’t happened. It’s fun, swaying together with my bestie, doing moves that have nothing to do with the music, turning and dancing back to back, flirting with strangers with that feeling of security that comes from knowing you have someone you trust right there, ready to pull you away if things go south.

It rocks. It’s so awesome, and I’m so frigging happy I could cry. The worries slough off me like dead skin, and I’m light like the smoke rising toward the ceiling. The world is set back to rights, and I’m at the center of it, dancing and laughing.

It feels as if life is back to normal, that it was off-center and is now sliding back into place. A ritual of friendship we repeated too many times to count since we first met back when I first moved here.

At the same time I met Jarett—but I won’t think about him, about coming here hoping to see him, about what we did last time we met at the frat house.

Better this way. No drugs, no danger—no Jarett.

I should be glad.

I am glad.

Sydney pulls on my hands, and we spin together giggling, a circle of perfect synchrony, an eddy of light.

Eventually, she drags me back to the bar where she convinces the bartender to get us new drinks—a beer for me, a vodka shot for her.

As I settle on a free stool, she leans in to shout in my ear.

“Just going to the bathroom! Be right back.”

I nod, and smile, and watch the bartender unscrew my beer and pour her shot, until my fuzzy brain catches up.

I said, don’t leave her alone for a second, the little voice of reason in my head says.

But she’s only going to the bathroom.

Are you serious right now?

Oh God… It can’t be. She didn’t distract me, and appease me, and spin me around until I was dizzy and trusting, only to go and do what I’d hoped she wouldn’t do, right?

I hop off my stool and go after her.

Only one way to find out.