I woke in my bed. My eyelids felt weighted down, my head throbbed. I still wore last night’s dance clothes. I couldn’t remember going to sleep.

Then it all came back. Jay Thornton. The fight. Five against one. Stepping in front of him. The gun. The pain. The heat. Jay’s arms around me.

I looked down. A thick white bandage circled my upper arm, the whole thing felt stiff. A strange sound came out of my nose, half gasp, half snort.

I’d been shot. For Jay Thornton, of all people. It’s not like I’d stepped into the line of fire or deliberately blocked him, but still. They hadn’t been aiming at me. I’d been shot by accident instead of someone who probably deserved it.

Shamed, I leaned my head against my pillow. No one deserved that, not even Jay. Not five against one, not one against one.

“You’re awake!” Frasier popped into my room and sat on the edge of my bed. He held a coffee cup in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Bags rested under his eyes, even heavier than before, but he was smiling.

He noticed my bandaged arm and his smile faded. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Jay had taken me to some house. He’d stroked my hair, held my hand before some big Mexican used a cloth as a torture device. Then we’d driven around Vegas, I couldn’t remember where. All I remembered were neon lights, the warmth of his truck, and the feeling that Vegas was a lot prettier than I had come to think. It must have been the vodka. Only alcohol could make Vegas seem pretty after what I’d seen.

“Maggie?”

My brother’s voice brought me back to the present. “It was outside the gym,” I said. “Five against one—a guy I know. I couldn’t just… They weren’t aiming at me.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Fraze yelled.

“I didn’t ask to get shot! Besides, it’s just a graze.” I grimaced. Now I sounded like Jay.

“Oh, swell. That makes it so much better. Seriously, Mags, I never knew how messed in the head you were.”

I pursed my lips.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said. “You could have been killed. And for what? Some guy who probably had it coming? Who is he anyway?”

“Nobody,” I said in a small voice. He had a point. What had I been thinking? I hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem. I just acted, and things could’ve turned out much worse. They were already bad enough. Some sketchy guy had fixed me up. Would my arm heal properly? When would I be able to dance again?

“It’s not the first time, either.” Fraze took a swig from his coffee cup. “Bronwyn told me how you broke up the fight between Nico and the loan shark’s enforcer.”

Probably best not to point out that the enforcer was the same guy I’d just defended.

“You’re not in Hillstone anymore, Mags. You keep forgetting that.”

Bronwyn busted into the room, her face pale. “Are you okay? Jay Thornton was here, he brought this.” She tossed my bag on the floor. “He told me what happened.”

Jay had been here? “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, right,” she replied. “And your boss called, by the way.”

I groaned. I couldn’t possibly go into work today. I called the diner while Fraze and Bronwyn whispered to each other.

I didn’t tell Craig what happened—how could I explain why I hadn’t gone to the cops?—only that I was injured. He was allowing me this one sick day but he wasn’t happy about it.

“Do you think you’re Wolverine or something?” Bronwyn asked, her arms crossed.

“Who’s Wolverine?”

She rolled her eyes. “Hugh Jackman. X-Men. Fast healing?” When I didn’t respond, she said, “Never mind. I guess I know what movie we’re watching next.”

“Well, I’ve got the day off.” A day where I’d rather be doing anything other than thinking about the stupid stunt I’d pulled.

“Sorry, I don’t.” She had on her spandex shorts and a bright yellow bike shirt. “Duty calls.”

“Maybe later?”

Bronwyn nodded. “I’m almost afraid to let you out of my sight. I mean, what’s next? Throw yourself in front of a bus to save a pigeon?”

I never used to get in trouble in Hillstone, but I refrained from pointing that out.