I drove the two hours back to LA in silence. No radio, just the sound of the road under my wheels and the hum of the other cars around mine. There was no need for anything to distract me – my mind was already swimming with everything that Jack, Kade, and Eddie had said to me.

If you care about me at all, don’t fuck me on this.

Every single goddamn thing I just said, I would have told you two hours ago before you destroyed my life.

When you make a decision like you did, there are consequences. I would have made the same decision, and I’d live with those consequences. You should, too.

You’re a bigger asshole than I thought.

I’m sorry about your cousin. But she made her choices, and they led to that back alley. You made your choices, too, so quit crying and acting like you didn’t know what you were doing.

Be thankful you walked away with your life.

I want to put a bunch of criminals in jail, because that’s where they belong. You’d let the criminals go free, just as long as you get your revenge.

I was in love with you. I trusted you… and you hurt me worse than anybody else in my entire fucking life.

Then I guess you’re fucked.

I guess I was.

My grand crusade to find my cousin’s murderer was finished, and I had utterly, completely failed. Not only that, but I had left a massive swath of destruction in my wake while the bad guys went free. Now all that was left was to try to forget everything that had happened over the last seven days.

I figured I would probably try to spend the rest of my life forgetting.

I also had to cobble back together a life for myself. The difficulty was, I had nothing left to go back to. At least, I had no place to live; I had let my apartment’s month-to-month lease go when I made my decision to leave LA.

I had a couple of friends I could crash with for a few weeks while I got my bearings… but there was one person I had to go see before anyone else.

I parked my car in front of Sid’s crappy office in Hollywood and walked through the front door. It was the same ramshackle mess I remembered so fondly: worn linoleum, dark wood paneling, and furniture that looked like it belonged in a Goodwill store.

Sid was behind his desk in the corner, pecking away at his ancient computer keyboard one key at a time. When he heard the bell ring on the door, he looked up at me from behind his thick, coke-bottle-bottom glasses.

“Uh oh,” he said. “Trouble just walked in.”

I smiled. It was what he’d always said when I came to work every morning.

“What’s up, kid? Back so soon? You get yer man?”

“No,” I said with a sigh. “Far from it.”

“Take a load off and tell me about it.”

I sat down in the chair opposite his desk and told him the story: how I had gotten close to the leader of the Midnight Riders, then betrayed his trust – and how much I hated myself for doing it. How the biker gang’s villainous VP had found out who I was, and nearly killed me. How an undercover DEA agent had blackmailed me, then left me with nothing once my true identity was discovered.

After I finished, Sid shook his head. “Sorry to hear it, kid. That’s some tough fuckin’ breaks.”

I slumped down in my chair. I didn’t cry – I’d never cried in front of Sid, and I wasn’t about to start – but the full weight of my despair crashed down on me like a pallet of cement blocks. “I feel like such a failure.”

“Aaah, don’t sweat it. You know what they say: if at first you don’t succeed, fuck it.”

I laughed – my first genuine laugh since the horrors of last night. It felt good. “Yeah, well, that’s about the only option I have left.”

“So,” he said casually, “you lookin’ for a job? ‘Cause I had this PI workin’ for me – nothin’ to write home about, but she was okay. Anyway, she walked out on me last week and I ain’t hired anybody to take her place yet.”

I smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Sid.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ll start you off at minimum wage till I see what you’re made of.”

I glared at him, and he chuckled.

“Gotcha,” he said, then went back to being genuine. “You need anything, you just let me know.”

“If I could crash on the sofa in the back room for a couple of nights, that would be great.  “You know, I didn’t mean that ‘anything’ part literally. That was just to make you feel better.”

“It’s just until I get a new apartment.”

“When’s that gonna be?”

“A couple of days.”

“Is that a ‘couple of days’ couple of days, or is that woman time?”

“‘Woman time’?”

“Like when my ex-wife was putting on makeup and shit and told me she’d be ready to go in five minutes.”

“It’s a couple of days, you chauvinist pig.”

“Oink oink. Guilty as charged.”

“Never mind, I’ll crash on somebody else’s sofa.”

“No, no,” he grumped, “you can stay here.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take it outta yer paycheck.”

“Sid – ”

“Just think of it as rent. Cheaper than a hotel.”

“Sid – ” 

“It’s incentive, it’ll light a fire under yer ass. I ain’t a landlord, you know.”

“SID – ”

“I’m joking. Jesus.” He went back to his computer and muttered under his breath, “Give ‘em a mile and they take an inch.”

Ah, home. Like nothing had changed at all.

Except every single thing that had meant something to me… and I could never get it back.