Danika

Oh, this is going to be fun. My parents are out for an early dinner, so it’s just me in their apartment. After stowing their groceries away in the fridge, I install some shiny, pink streamers on my mother’s bicycle handles. I can’t wait to get a laughing phone call from her later. I’ll probably be occupied by Greer—pretty please, God?—but the voice mail will have to suffice.

Greer.

Waiting for Friday has sucked. Is it shameful that I’m pondering climbing into his car later wearing nothing but a trench coat and a smile? I mean, considering the warm weather, no one on the street would be fooled. But isn’t that part of the thrill?

Like I need added thrills? I’m a walking hormone lately. I’ve been sleeping on my belly, because I’m constantly replaying the way Greer put me facedown over his kitchen table. Being in the position makes the fantasy that much hotter, and I’ve needed the fantasy to get through three days without him. Really not helping my oversexed imagination? The fact that my roommates could not be smugger about how often they’re getting laid. Greer told me to invest in nose plugs, but earplugs are coming in way handier lately.

Jerks.

I’m anxious for more than sex tonight. I want to know how Greer’s week has been. Want him to wrap me in those big arms and confide everything. I’m going to do the same. No more keeping what happened after my mother’s party from him. God, he’s going to lose his shit, but I’m ready. I’ll let him rage, and then I’ll promise never to lie by omission again. He’ll have to understand. This thing between us is fragile, and I was trying not to break it before it could get stronger. That’s all.

Look, I’ll break out the waterworks if I have to. If that doesn’t work, I’ll cry while topless.

Bottom line is by tomorrow morning, there won’t be any gray areas between us.

Blowing out a breath, I stand and run my fingers through the pink streamers. A small smile teases my mouth. A quick stop at my cousin’s house to visit her baby, then I’m heading back to the East Side to meet Greer. My stomach is fluttering just thinking about the hug I’m going to give him. He’s not going to expect it and—

There’s a loud noise downstairs in the building. Like metal banging off cinderblock, followed by quick thumping. Footsteps? My gaze flies to the door of my parents’ apartment, as if I can see through the old, painted wood. I’ve been living in New York City buildings all my life and slamming doors and people being inconsiderate of their noise level is just par for the course.

I’m probably still on edge over what happened with those punks, but a buzzing begins in my skull when I remember something. The building door was propped open when I arrived. By my mother’s flip-flop. I know from experience how often she misplaces her keys—she probably wedged it in there so they could get back in after dinner. Dammit. That stupid flip-flop has become such a fixture, I barely noticed it when I opened the door, distracted by other things. Tonight, mostly. Anyone could be in the building right now.

Relax. The apartment door has an engaged dead bolt. It’s fine.

“Aunt Maritza.”

My heart picks up into a gallop. That’s Robbie, calling for my mother. Panic is sharp in his voice. He lives a few blocks away. Why is he here?

I’m already lunging for the door to let him in. “Robbie.” I turn the dead bolt and open the door, reaching out to pull him inside. “What’s—”

I only have a second to register Robbie’s sweaty, disheveled appearance before I notice he’s not alone in the hallway. He’s running from someone.

The kids who tried to rob the yogurt shop. The ones who threatened us both. They’re right on his heels. They’re moving fast enough that I know instantly they’ve been chasing him.

“Shit.” My pulse rumbles in my ears as I yank Robbie inside, attempting to close the door before the other two reach us. Is there another option? He’s my cousin. I love him. I would sooner saw off my own arm than leave him out there to fend for himself. But bolting the door before those kids climb the stairs? My judgment is telling me it’s a pipe dream when a booted foot shoves through the opening, preventing me from closing the door. “I’ve already called the police,” I shout through tight lips. “You probably have less than a minute before they show up, so get moving.”

Their laughter makes it obvious they don’t believe me. “Fuck you. Open the door.”

“Not happening,” I say.

Over my shoulder, I see Robbie reach behind the couch and remove my father’s baseball bat, which I’d forgotten was even there, since he’s never needed it. I make a hasty motion for Robbie to get back over here and help me hold the door. Both of us are pushing on it now, and my feet are sliding, sliding on the wooden floor. Even when Robbie adds his strength, our opponents seem to have adrenaline and anger on their side. Maybe drugs. I don’t know. But I can’t hold it. They’re coming in here, whether I like it or not, and I can barely breathe around the agony of that fact.

My parents. Thank God they’re not here.

Greer is going to shit a stampede of bulls.

This timing is horrible. One more week and I’d have my police weapon on me. That’s not the case, though, and I have to be as prepared as possible when they make it inside. Which they will. There’s no holding them off.

Taking the bat from Robbie, I let go of the door without warning, hoping to make the intruders lose their balance. And it works. The dirty blonde one stumbles inside, going down on his knees. I lift the bat to bring it down on his back, but my swing pauses in midair when I see the gun. The one being pointed at me by his friend who’s standing in the doorway.

“Please. Don’t shoot.” The words come out of my mouth sounding strangled. Is this real life? I was installing pink streamers two minutes ago. Now I could get shot?

Greer was right. Look how little it takes to die.

No. Irritation floods me. Fuck that. He wasn’t right. I’m not going out like this. I can’t. Tears blur in my eyes and clog my throat. My face is piping hot. I can’t swallow.

“Look,” I rasp. “I’m going to drop the bat and we’re going to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” the gun holder says back. “It wasn’t enough that you called the police the first time. Then you called the fucking school and got us expelled.”

“What? No. No, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” The conversation between me and the school administrator replays in my head, her telling me they would use discretion. These kids must have done something to force the school’s hand, although would they have revealed my phone call? Don’t they know the trouble it could cause? “I was only trying to keep Robbie safe.”

The blonde one is back on his feet. “Well, you did a shitty job, didn’t you?”

Gun Holder is angry, but his hand is shaking. He barely has the strength to keep the weapon up for an extended length of time. Should I keep him talking until someone else enters the building? I don’t want anyone else to be in danger. If his arm gets tired, will he fire at us and get it over with? Or be embarrassed enough to bail and fight another day?

“Look, I’ll come with you,” Robbie says behind me. “Leave my cousin alone. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Robbie, no—”

“Oh wow,” Gun Holder scoffs. “What a fucking gentleman.”

“Nice try,” adds his friend before turning around. “Get inside and shut the door, man, before someone sees us.”

“Too late.” I almost faint when I hear Greer’s voice, but thank God I didn’t or I would have missed what happened next. There’s a blur in the doorway, Greer’s hand moving at the speed of lightning to confiscate the weapon. Blondie tries to intervene, but Greer lifts both his weapon and theirs with ruthless efficiency, one trained on each intruder. “Down on your stomachs. Hands behind your heads. Do it now.”

Their jaws are down by their ankles, probably a lot like mine, but they do as they’re instructed. Sirens begin blaring outside, though, torpedoing me out of my stupor. My training kicks in, and I move on autopilot, retrieving the handcuffs from Greer’s belt. Two sets. Neither one of the kids struggle as I cuff them, feeling Greer’s eyes burning into me the whole time.

By the time I’ve finished my task, backup has arrived, thundering up the stairs of the building like a cavalry. I comfort my cousin in the kitchen while the intruders are read their rights and Greer fills the officers in on what happened. I’m still soaring on adrenaline and residual fear, but not enough to stop dread from settling in. Greer looks like he’s about to erupt. His eyes are bright, but clouded. His jaw and shoulders are bunched, the answers he gives clipped. I have the fight of my life ahead of me, and I deserve every second of it. How awful it must have been for him to climb the stairs and find the gun trained on me. Not as awful as losing his partner, surely, but terrible. Terrible enough for him to cut me loose?

A sharp pain invades my middle. I fight a battle to keep from doubling over as another officer takes my statement and Robbie’s. Finally, the officers bring the perpetrators downstairs to load into their vehicles, thinning the herd down to me, Greer and Robbie.

“I’m going to head home,” says my cousin, his face still pale as he turns to me. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry. I—I, they were chasing me, and I didn’t know where else to run.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” I pull him into a tight hug. “Text me when you get home, all right?”

He nods.

And then it’s just me and Greer.

God, I must have some brass ones, because when he closes the door and turns that fury on me, I stand firm in the face of it. I don’t look away, even though my stomach is in king-sized knots and I want to throw up. “Call your friends. Ask them to come pick you up in a cab.” A deep groove appears between his eyebrows. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Okay, so he’s not wasting any time swinging for the fences. “I’m not alone. I have you.”

His voice is hoarse when he responds. “No. You don’t.”

It’s a sandbag dropping onto my chest. All the air rushes out of me. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. But—”

“You’ve learned nothing.” Raw energy ripples through his frame as he strides toward me, taking me by the shoulders. Shaking me. “Being arrested. The probation. Everything I taught you, Danika. You didn’t learn a fucking thing from any of it.”

“Yes, I did.” I’m frozen, head to toe, but somehow my mouth is working. Jesus, he’s more furious than I could have ever imagined him. Furious and haunted. “I filed the report. I took it seriously. I just—I just—”

“You just what?”

“I knew you would drop me.” I’m half screaming, half choking on my words, but I don’t care. The only thing I care about is cracking the shell hardening around him. “I knew the second I reminded you I was a vulnerable human, you would freak out and drop me. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.” I bat his chest with my hands. Once, twice. “You’re so predictable.”

Distress flares in the depths of his eyes, but it winks out just as fast. “Yeah? Well, so are you, baby. You want to carry the whole world on your shoulders?” He jerks his chin toward the door. “When the world turns against you, all you’re holding is a bat and an ego.”

“I have an ego?” Little red pinpricks float into my vision, my throat going tight. “You think people live or die just to hurt you?” I shake my head. “You’re not just a coward, you’re a self-centered idiot. I shouldn’t have kept what happened from you, okay? I know it was stupid. Maybe I was even doing myself a favor, ending this now. Because sooner or later, the job would have put me in jeopardy, and you wouldn’t have been able to handle it.” I stomp a foot down on the floorboards. “Admit it. This was never going anywhere.”

Greer flinches, some of the rage draining from his eyes. And his ringing silence is my answer, isn’t it? I was a total fool thinking I could fix what was broken inside of him. The damage is too complete, and I’m clearly the worst person to patch it up.

“Thank you for saving me and my cousin again,” I whisper up at him. “But please get out. Get out. It hurts to look at you.”

Disbelief and panic battle it out in his expression. “You’re throwing me out?”

The look I give him is full of meaning. “You were leaving anyway.”

His hands tighten on my shoulders, as if he’s trying to decide if he should pull me close instead of kicking me out of his life, but the decision has already been made. By me. Him. Both of us, in very different ways.

So I wedge a hand between us and shove myself away. Greer stands there and stares at me for heavy, breathless seconds. Those big fists clench and unclench at his sides, before he turns on a heel and strides for the door. As it closes behind him, I hear him on the phone with Charlie, telling his brother to come escort me home.

I flop down cross-legged right where I’m standing, the pain of loss and waning of adrenaline leaving me in the form of big, sloppy tears.

Game over.