My nerves are shot. What the fuck was I thinking, making it sound like we have something? Talking of girlfriends and shit. Why, just because we slept together? That means nothing. I don’t have to promise anything. Hell, I can’t promise anything. I have nothing to give. I have no roots and no scruples. I’m a bastard orphan slut. Can it get any worse than this?

I stride into her bedroom and grab my T-shirt, dragging over my head angrily. Who am I bullshitting? Just sex. It wasn’t. Not for me. I know it in every fiber of my being. It was amazing. Mind-blowing. Unforgettable.

Like she is, and the way I need her is scaring the holy fucking shit out of me. For so long I convinced myself I don’t need anybody. After I lost Helen, I had to, or I’d have gone round the bend.

Never needed anyone until now. Lying with her in my arms, holding her, kissing her, planning to go to a fucking wedding reception with her…

Dammit, even now my heart booms at the thought and a grin spreads over my face. She makes me feel… warm inside. Good. Whole.

Happy.

And damn, I like the fact she doesn’t want me to be with other girls. Like she wants me for herself.

I want to make her mine. But I’ve never been anyone’s and never had anyone. How does that work?

Zane. I’ll ask him.

My decision taken, I relax and sit on the bed to pull on my socks and boots, taking in her room from this angle. She has more of her jewelry lining her walls, bracelets and pendants made of beads and wire. A photo of herself with two older people catches my eye. Takes me a moment to realize they have to be her parents.

Duh, J. This is what’s normal, not you. You’re the odd one out, with no family.

Rubbing a hand over my face, wondering why Amber would even think of hooking up with me, let alone be my girlfriend, I take one last look around and head out to say goodbye.

Voices drift over from the open kitchen door and I stall. One is Amber, and the other must be Kayla.

“I can see why you like him,” Kayla is saying. “I get it. I mean, that face, that chest, and ass-cheeks you can crack nuts between—what’s there not to like?”

The fuck?

“That’s not why I like him,” Amber says so quietly I can barely make out the words.

Hell. I’m not sure whether to be glad or worried. Nervously I tug on my leather band, then reach up to rub the demon on my chest. She doesn’t like the way I look?

“Girl, you’re your own woman. You do what you like with Mr. ManCandy. But don’t come crying to me afterward, okay? Ev told you about him. He chases after everything with a vagina. Don’t let him hurt you.”

I wince, although I deserve that. Weird how I hate that Amber is hearing it. As if she didn’t know… Yeah, right, J.

Still, I step out of the bedroom, determined to stop this conversation. Not sure I want to hear what else Kayla has to say about me.

“It’s not what you think,” I hear Amber say before I take a second step. “We’re not together or anything. It was a one-night stand. It means nothing.”

My heart hammers in my chest. Bitterness rises in my throat. This is stupid, this crushing disappointment at her words. But I asked her for a chance, didn’t I? I thought I did. I thought she’d give me some time.

Guess I thought wrong.

* * *

“Sit down, fucker,” Zane says, pulling off his rubber gloves and nodding at Tyler, who’s waiting at the cubicle door. “Be back in a sec.”

I do as told, sitting on the stool. My head is pounding and I rub at my temples, trying to ease the discomfort. My pulse thunders in my ears, way too fast. Hasn’t slowed down since I left her apartment.

I thought if I slept with her I’d lose interest. Instead, she’s the one pushing me away. This hasn’t happened to me before. Everything’s different with this girl. I thought she wanted to be with me.

The thought of losing my chance with her burns a hole in my chest.

Maybe… maybe that’s why she asked me about being friends. Maybe that’s what she wants, unless it was a pretext to kick me out.

I hop off the stool, full of restless energy and pace back and forth.

You’re a good lay, J. Worth every penny. Now get out. You’re not good enough for anything more.

Shut up, shut up. I clap my hands over my ears. Funny how I thought those wounds had scabbed over, healed.

It shouldn’t hurt this bad. You’d think after spending my whole life being kicked around, thrown out on my ass and called names, carted from group home to group home, that I’d have a thicker skin.

But it does hurt. Because she’s not just any girl. Because… Because she means something to me.

Just stop feeling, I tell myself. Just stop. When will you learn that nobody wants you to stay?

“J. You okay, man?”

I whirl around, transported for a moment back to a back alley, looking for any weapon to protect myself with.

Tyler gives me a narrow-eyed look, leaning against the cubicle entrance, arms folded over his chest. His dark hair is cut short and looks wet.

“Zane wanted to talk to me. Where is he?” Need my smokes. I pat my pockets. Dammit, I don’t have them with me, probably dropped them at Amber’s apartment. Or during the fight with my roommates. Fuck.

“Calm down, buddy.” Tyler doesn’t move, which is a good thing, because if he as much as crowds me in right now I’ll punch his lights out. “Z-man’s on the phone, he’ll be back in a minute. Now why don’t you tell me what’s gotten your boxers in a twist?”

The scars on my arm itch and ache, and I back away a step.

Tyler’s older than the rest of us by a couple of years. He’s also the tallest of the group, and trying to calm down, like he suggested, is harder with him than with the others. He reminds me too much of the man in the alley—just like Gage, my roommate, does. Not their fault.

But dammit, I still have nightmares about it.

“J. Hey.” Tyler nods at someone outside the cubicle, then turns back to me. “Spill. What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up.” I drop back on the stool, throw my baseball cap on the counter and fold my arms over my chest, too, mirroring his stance. “Don’t you have customers waiting?”

Tyler mans the reception desk of the shop. Not many people wander inside in the mornings, but hey.

“Nice try.” He tsks. “I’m waiting.”

“Fuck off, Tyler.”

“If you can’t tell your friends, who’re you gonna tell your troubles to?”

“I don’t have friends.” I huff. “I don’t do people. And people don’t do me.”

“Bullshit.” He gives a lazy grin, like a lion who just ate the gazelle. “Maybe your definitions need some dusting. Newsflash, J: we are friends. You and me. You and Zane. You and Seth. You and Micah. Everyone here is your friend. We’d do anything for you, and deep inside, you fucking know it.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, mulling this over.

“Now normally you don’t look like you’re about to smash Zane’s workspace to bits, which is why I’m asking you what happened. Tell me, and maybe I can help you fix it.”

“Fix it. Don’t know if anyone can fix it. Fix me.”

“You?” Tyler frowns. “Nothing’s wrong with you.”

“Everything’s wrong with me. I don’t…” I clasp my hands behind my head and squeeze. “I don’t know anything. When I think I understand how a relationship works, it turns out I understand jack. And girls… I don’t get them.”

“Man, and who does?” He rolls his eyes and sighs, and it’d be damn funny if I wasn’t smarting. Which is stupid, and I should stop.

Thing is, I’ve been telling myself this ever since I met her—stop feeling, stop wanting, stop hoping—and it’s not working.

“This is about Amber, isn’t it?” Tyler asks, and I nod.

No point in denying it.

“Serious?” He’s eyeing me carefully, and I have no clue what he’s thinking.

I know what I am thinking, though. “It is. For me.”

“Well, damn.” He grins.

No idea what he seems so pleased about.

“You’re not listening, man. I don’t think she feels the same way.”

“Feelings. Well, this is getting better and better.”

Dammit. “Screw you, Tyler.”

Why the hell did I open up to him? True, I know him quite well—he’s almost always here at the shop, and he is a quiet and calm guy. Never heard him yell, never saw him make a threatening move on anyone. Could be why.

“Amber likes you,” another male voice says.

I look up, startled. “What?”

Micah is standing next to Tyler, glaring at me.

Whoa. What crawled up his ass? “Whatever.”

“You heard me. She likes you a lot. She’s head over heels with you. If that’s the girl you’re referring to, and I assume it is, seeing as it’s the only girl you’ve been spending time with.”

“And what’s with the death glare?” I counter-attack, because, damn, I need a moment to process what he just said.

Head over heels? Amber?

“Take a guess. You go through girls like underwear. Amber is Ev’s best friend. This is the mother of all bad ideas.”

Uh-oh. I offended Micah’s righteous sensibilities. Because before meeting Evangeline, he was obviously a hermit in some cave on a mountain, eating insects and hanging out with lions.

“So… you and Amber, huh?” Ah, Zane has joined the beat-Jesse-with-a-righteous-stick party. “Seriously?”

“What do you mean, seriously?” A hot surge of anger shoots up my chest. I slam my fist on the counter. “Fuck off. All of you.”

Micah is still glaring at me, and I know Ev isn’t my biggest fan, but come on. Tyler pulls him away and they vanish somewhere in the shop.

“Told you to play nice with her, didn’t I, fucker?” Zane wanders into the cubicle, and I’d love to throw him out right now, but hell, it’s his cubicle and shop and all.

Fuck.

“Who says I didn’t?”

“We wouldn’t be talking about Amber if there wasn’t trouble.”

“And you naturally assume it’s my fault.” I’m tired of people thinking that before even asking.

“You’re the one with the bad rep.”

“Story of my life.”

“Told you she was hurt in the past.”

And I wasn’t? “You did. I’m not gonna hurt her.”

“You mean you won’t be wrapped around another girl at the wedding reception?”

“Dammit, Zane, no, I won’t.” I grit my teeth. “I didn’t know I was gonna meet her, all right? Meet someone like her. That she’d be different. For me.”

He stills in the process of preparing the ink. “Different.”

I eye him warily. “You also gonna tell me what a bad idea this is? Because, honestly, I’m all out of fucks.”

He looks startled, then he scowls. “She’s—”

“Okay, back off.” I lurch to my feet and turn to go. “Maybe she’s not as broken as you think. Maybe she’s just cracked and only needs a bit of glue to put her straight.”

Silence spreads.

Then Zane chuckles. “I like what you just said, fucker.”

I chance a glance over my shoulder. Asshole is grinning from ear to ear.

“You do?”

“Yeah. So what happened? She said she’s not interested?”

I rub my chest, where it hurts. “Something like that.”

“So fight for her.”

The fuck.

“This isn’t a fantasy movie, Z-man. I don’t have superpowers or anything.” Yeah, I’m off balance and defensive as fuck. So what.

“Shut up, man. Who needs superpowers?” Zane’s dark eyes narrow to the barest of slits. “Take her out, buy her a gift, show her she is the one. Convince her. You’re a charming motherfucker. You can do it.”

I blink. “You’re okay with it?”

“Fucker…” He sighs, turns back to his tattoo gun. “I used to be a manwhore, worse than you. Until I met Dakota, and then I changed, because she was it for me. If Amber does that for you, who am I to stop you from being happy?”

Happy. That word again.

I can try. Nothing to lose. “I’m not a quitter.” I wouldn’t be alive if I was.

“Never thought you were.”

“So I should… what, date her?”

“That sounds about right.”

I open my mouth, close it.

“And now we’ve solved the mysteries of love, let’s get to work,” Zane says. “Show me your drawings, and put on those gloves. Your next customer will be here any minute.”

Well, hell.

* * *

Zane pushes me to do another part of a tattoo on his customer’s back, and this time my hand is steadier and I’m more confident in my abilities.

But then he tells me he expects me to practice longer and finish his apprenticeship. He wants me to stop at least one of my other part time jobs to spend more time on drawing and practicing.

He’s right. I should. This is what I want to be—a tattoo artist. I love creating the pictures, inking them into the skin in indelible designs. Marking people like I marked myself.

Damage Control. This is what it’s all about, isn’t it? Dealing with the past. Finding peace.

One day I hope to find it for myself, too.

Amber…

Yet, leaving my part time jobs is another matter. I pretend to agree to everything Zane says, to agree I can’t juggle so many gigs and focus on my apprenticeship, too, and leave it at that.

He wouldn’t understand, plus he’d be pissed, and it’s frightening how much I want to stay. To learn more, have an income and a roof over my head, and almost believe I have friends, a family of sorts.

I’m a sucker for this illusion. It’s what’s kept me sane all these years, this dream that I’d have a home one day, and that I’d stay.

Which is why I’m saving money. I need to be ready for whatever life throws into my path next. For once, I want to stay on my feet. Is it too fucking much to ask?

It’s in the middle of my shift at the café when Jason calls me. I forgot I even gave him my new number, and the bad feeling churning in my gut when I hear his voice cuts clear through my worries about Amber and the future.

“J? You okay?” he yells into the phone, and I wince, pulling it away from my ear. “Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you. Calm down.” I put the cell back to my ear. “What’s going on? Why the hell are you shouting?”

“Sorry. I’m in the waiting room in St. Mary’s. It’s packed full of people, like you wouldn’t believe.”

“St. Mary’s? Why?” I glance at the tables and the few customers, then at Megan who’s leaning back on the bar, observing. I turn my back and head for the door.

“We got another one down. A girl this time, Mia. It was him. Simon Gomez.”

“You can’t know that.” Yet my stomach is knotting up.

“They saw him, man. But nobody will testify.”

Dammit. “Why would he do this?”

“Think, J. Why did he beat you up back then?”

“Crazy bastard said I was on his turf.”

“You know Kaia died right?”

The pimp controlling the neighborhood, the one that kept Simon back until now.

I stumble as I go down the steps to the street and barely catch myself before I fall. “What? When?”

“Ten days ago. The night Mikey was beaten. Then he caught Kyle, and now Mia. He’s got drugs circulating, and he wants us away. As you said, a crazy bastard.”

Fuck, fuck. “Mia should tell the police. She—”

“You should do it, J. She’s just a kid, and tomorrow she’ll be back on the street. Can’t afford it, but you… He won’t even know who ratted him out. I doubt he remembers you after three years.”

But maybe he does.

Jason doesn’t know the whole story. Nobody does but me. It’s personal all right. Simon wanted more than just vacation of the premises. He wanted me to join him.

And as a first step, he demanded I go down on him. When I refused, he tried to force me. I was exhausted from hunger and a bad cold that wouldn’t let up. But I fought back, and I have the fucking scars to show for it.

He didn’t get his way. For a man like him, that has to be something memorable.

“This is a shitty plan,” I mutter, “and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the only plan we got, baby,” Jason drawls and disconnects.

* * *

Telling Mel to hold the taco fort and that I’ll be in late, I head to St. Mary’s.

Mel… is important to me. He used to feed me when I was hungry. I’d pass by late, and he’d give me his leftovers. I owe him, and even though the pay is damn low, I wouldn’t dream of leaving him without help.

Zane doesn’t know this. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about me.

On my way to the hospital, I feel an itch between my shoulder blades as if someone is watching me. Following me.

Which is laughable. I check over my shoulder, just in case, and think I see a shadow skulking away, but that’s bullshit. Why would anyone follow me?

St. Mary’s emergency room is packed when I walk inside. I see Jason the moment he spots me, too, and we move toward each other. He looks frazzled and out of place, dressed in his skin-tight, ripped jeans and silver tank top, showing off his tats and scars.

“Whatcha doing here?” He sounds brisk and gruff, but the relief is shining out of his face. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Yeah well, here I am.” I shove my hands into my pant pockets. “Just because I don’t live on the street anymore doesn’t mean I don’t fucking care.”

He shrugs. I don’t think he believes me. “I’d do the same in your shoes, man,” he says. “Get out as fast as I can and not look back.”

Right. So much for getting through to him. “Where’s Mia?”

“This way. They’re about to discharge her. She’ll be okay.”

You wouldn’t think it by looking at her. A slight girl with short, dark hair and large green eyes, beaten black and blue. A bandage over her eye is hiding stitches, and the way she’s holding herself hints at bruised ribs.

Pressure is building in my chest. Rage. I have to do something about this. These are my people, no matter what Jason thinks. I can’t let this happen again.

But what the fuck can I do? How can I take them off the street and protect them from life’s blows? Even if I used up the money I’ve saved…

The money I saved for myself. To protect myself.

Dammit.

I stare at Jason, who’s helping the girl fill out forms and shit, his face lined with concern, without really seeing them, thoughts buzzing inside my skull like angry bees.

I know what I have to do, and to hell with being afraid. Time to act.