Chapter 12

When the doors shut behind us, I turned to Jake. "Is this really your place?" Confused, I looked around. "The rent must be insane."

He gave something like a laugh.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Rent."

"What about it?" I asked.

"I don't pay it."

"Because, uh, you're staying here with a friend?"

"No," he said. "Because I own it."

I stared at him. "You do?"

I glanced around, taking in the sleek, modern décor, the panoramic view of the Detroit River, and the furniture that looked way too expensive to actually sit on. "So, um, did you win the lottery or something?"

"Sorry. I don't gamble."

"Never?"

"Not unless it's a sure thing." He tossed his car keys onto a small marble-top table. "Wanna see your room?"

I crossed my arms. "No."

Actually, I did. But earlier, he had promised me answers, and I was done waiting.

He raised an eyebrow. "So, you wanna see my room?"

"Hardly." It was another lie. I did want to see it. For curiosity's sake. That's all. But I didn't want him to see me seeing it. Besides, there were so many mixed signals flying around, I could hardly keep track.

What exactly was I to him? A former friend? A potential lover? Some bratty kid from his old neighborhood? I stiffened my spine. I wasn't a kid anymore. And it was long past time he stopped treating me like one.

I pointed to a nearby sofa. "Sit," I said.

"It's my place," he said. "Shouldn't I be ordering you around?"

"You already have," I said. "And it's getting old."

"Not to me." Still, in a show of indulging me, he ambled toward the sofa.

"Wait." I pointed to his bloodied shirt. "You should probably take that off first."

"Why?"

Well, not because I wanted to see his rippling abs again, that's for sure.

"Because," I said, "you don't want to ruin your furniture, do you?" I glanced around and spotted a glossy black chair. I pointed to it. "As a matter of fact, sit there instead." I gave it a closer look. "Wait. That is leather, isn't it?"

With cool deliberation, Jake sank down onto the original sofa. I winced as he settled into it, relaxing against the pale cushioned surface. He patted the spot beside him. "Now you," he said.

In a show of defiance, I marched to the black leather chair and sat.

"I guess you showed me," he said.

"You promised me answers," I reminded him.

His gaze met mine. "That makes two of us."

I looked around. "It seems to me, you've got more to talk about than I do."

"This?" he said, glancing toward the massive windows. "It's nothing."

"You are so full of it," I said.

"Am I?"

I couldn't help it. I just had to ask. "Is all this really yours?" I made a sweeping gesture with my hand. "This place. The car. The furniture. The fancy clothes." I shook my head. "I don't get it."

Frowning, he looked down at his tattered shirt. "Fancy?"

"Fancy. Expensive. Whatever. I saw the tags." Either the guy was living well beyond his means, or he had one hell of a story to tell. I'd get it out of him sooner or later.

Jake looked down. Soon, I heard a low chuckle.

"What's so funny?" I said.

"Most girls kiss my ass."

No surprise there. From the hints that I'd seen, his ass was infinitely kissable. Yet somehow, I didn't think that's what he meant.

"Is that what you really want?" I asked. Sure, I could see the appeal short-term. But wouldn’t that get old after a while?

He flashed me a grin that somehow didn't meet his eyes. "Sure. Why not?"

"Oh forget it," I said.

"Done."

Damn it. He wasn't really supposed to forget it. But then, something else jumped to the forefront of my mind. "Wait a minute," I said, recalling an earlier comment. "What'd you mean about no one messing with your family?"

He gave me a good, long look. "You really don't know?"

"I don't know what?" I said. "You and I aren't related." I swallowed. "Are we?" Oh God, please say no. Or at least be a really distant cousin, like five times removed, whatever that meant.

"The funny thing is," he said, "we are."

Damn it.

"Or at least," he added, "we will be."

"Huh?"

"Get this." He gave a laugh devoid of any real amusement. "My brother? Your sister? Wanna know what they did?"

I shrugged. "What?"

"They went and got engaged."

My jaw dropped. "Really? When?"

"Valentine's Day." His voice grew sarcastic. "Isn't that romantic?"

"Oh my God," I breathed. "That was weeks ago." My heart sank. "And no one told me?"

Okay, so I hadn't exactly been diligent about returning my family's phone calls, but someone could have left me a message at least. I felt myself frown. No. They couldn't have. I had a new phone number that I hadn't been eager to share.

"So," Jake continued, "what do you think of that?" His voice hardened. "Sis."

He had to be lying. I reached for my purse. "I'm calling Selena."

"Go ahead," he said. "The story won't change just because your sister's telling it."

I met his gaze, and reality sank in. He was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes. Slowly, I settled back into my seat. "Oh crap," I breathed.

"You're telling me."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Why are you unhappy? It's bad for her, not for him."

"That's one opinion," he said. "Not mine."

I ignored the jab. On too many levels to count, this wasn't good. My sister, supposedly the smart one, was being way too stupid for words. Here, I'd wised up. And what did she do? She got stupider. Looking down, I felt my frown deepen. Was stupider even a word?

Maybe I wasn't as smart as I thought I was.

When I looked up, something in Jake's gaze made me pause. "What is it?" I asked.

His voice was low in the quiet room. "You."

"What about me?"

He looked around, as if cataloguing the luxury surrounding us. "With you here, the place feels different."

I narrowed my gaze. "Different good? Or different bad?"

After way too long, he finally spoke. "Ask me later."

I drew back. "No."

"Suit yourself." And then, if shaking off some lingering gloom, he flashed me that same old grin. "Either way, you're stuck here a while."

I shook my head, trying to decipher what just happened. I gave up and asked the obvious. "How long?"

"'Til the thing with Rango's settled."

I blew out a long breath. Oh yeah. Rango. And that stupid black book. "Settled how?" I asked.

"I'm working on that," he said. "I'd give it a week. Maybe more."

Was that good news? Or bad news? In truth, I was lucky to have a place to stay at all. Maybe two weeks would be better than one.

And then, I remembered something. "Oh crap," I said.

"What?" he said.

"That stupid book. It's still at Maddie's." I jumped from my seat. "We've got to go back."

I recalled the ugly scene from earlier, and my stomach clenched. The last thing I wanted was a repeat performance. Maybe I could go back later tonight, when she was at work. She was working tonight, right? I couldn't remember for sure.

I looked down at my lap. "Damn it," I muttered. "I should've grabbed that stupid thing on the way out."

"This stupid thing?" Jake said.

I looked up and stifled a gasp. "Where'd you get that?" I asked.

He gave the book a little wave. "Guess."

I knew where I'd seen it last – tucked under the mattress of my single bed.

He set the book on a side table. "You need to find a better hiding spot," he said.

I gave Jake a hard stare. "You went in my room?" The thought was infinitely unsettling in more ways than one. "When?"

"Last night."

"When I was sleeping?"

"No. Before you got home."

I gave him a look of disgust. "Unbelievable."

"Want to know what's unbelievable?" he said, his voice growing harder now. "That you're hiding from some low-life when you could've called for help."

"From who?" I tried to laugh. "You?"

"Why not?"

"Because," I said, "we've lost touch. Remember?"

"If you wanted to, you could've gotten ahold of me."

"Yeah, right," I said. "And about Rango? I didn't know he was a low-life, okay? I met him at some club. We hit it off. He seemed nice."

"Uh-huh."

"And by the time I figured out he was a jerk, it was too late." I pushed a hand through my hair. "After things got too crazy, I figured a change of scenery would do me good."

"I saw your scenery," he said. "It wasn't that good."

"Hey, it wasn't that bad," I lied.

"You're lucky you've been going by a different name," he said.

"Lucky?" I made a scoffing sound. "Try growing up with a name like Luna. See how lucky you feel."

His voice softened. "I like your name. You should stop changing it."

I gave him a sarcastic smile. "I'll think about it."

"By the way," he said, "you quit your bartending gig too."

My jaw dropped. "What?"

"Sorry."

He didn't look sorry. I slouched deeper into the chair, feeling utterly overwhelmed.

"So about Rango?" he said.

"What about him? " I said. "We had a bad break-up. End of story."

"The way I heard it, you trashed his Beamer."

"No," I said, considering Rango's once-beautiful car. "He smashed his Beamer, and tried to pin the blame on me when the cops came. The idiot didn't even have insurance."

"He didn't have insurance," Jake said, "because it wasn't his car."

I did a double-take. "Really? Whose was it?"

"Someone higher up the chain."

"What chain?"

"A family chain."

I stared at Jake. "And you know this how?"

Jake shrugged. "I've got friends."

"Yeah, I just bet." My sister claimed that Jake ran with thugs and criminals. Did I believe her? I still didn't know. Maybe I didn't want to know how he made his money.

"So then," Jake continued, "you take his little book of passwords and use it for what? To get a rise out of him."

"Yeah, I know. That was the whole point."

Stupid Rango. The guy had trashed my furniture, stolen my clothes, and cost me my perfect little apartment. And the sad thing was, I couldn't prove anything. But I just knew it was him. He's lucky all I did was post some crazy stuff online.

"You embarrassed him," Jake said.

"So?" I said. "He deserved it, just like I said."

His voice was quiet. "It's dangerous to embarrass guys like that. You know that, don't you?"

"Well, I didn't know it at the time." I lifted my chin. "And even if I did, so what?"

He gave me a dubious look. "So what?"

"Oh c'mon," I said. "You know how bullies are. The more they get away with, the worse they get. It's about time someone did something back to him."

"That someone didn't have to be you," Jake said.

"Oh yeah? Then who?"

He leaned back on the sofa. "Me."

I looked at him a long time. Did he mean it? But I already knew the answer to that. He did mean it.

Rango, the ex-boyfriend from hell, was nothing but a bully. And Jake had a special way of dealing with bullies.

I'd seen that firsthand a long time ago.