After they’d all taken turns showering at his trailer, Wulf rented a Malibu. They dropped off Quincy at the airport. Now, they were headed to the train station. He checked the magazine clip in his Beretta as she drove.

“Wulf,” she began, glancing at him. Though she’d stood in the background while he parted ways with his friend, she’d listened in. Jones had good reason for Wulf to return to L.A. Wulf had been selective of his words. She wasn’t sure if he knew she’d eavesdropped, but he was putting her needs before his very own life.

Now they were headed to the train station. “I know you’re returning to Los Angeles,” Mary Jane began.

“I might as well go home, maybe at the end of the week when Juarez says I can leave town. I’ve come to realize that disappearing is not an effective way to escape the past.”

“About Gracie?” she asked sincerely.

He nodded.

“I’m sorry for how things transpired with her. But, before you go, can I tell you my story? Well, two stories. I have Megan and Mallory’s memories in my head. Their shortcomings, their trials and tribulations—I don’t want to travel the world and have them stuck inside. You know, it’s hard keeping a secret.” She paused from all the rambling, while pulling into the train station parking lot. “Never mind, you’re right. I have been hit in the head too much.”

“You can tell me.” He put away the gun and gave her all his attention as Mary Jane found a spot in the second row.

“Nah,” she said, unhooking the seat belt to get out. “I have two lifetimes worth of stories. It would take too long. Just stay on the lookout. If there are any signs of Jake, and you’re right about him wanting to love and kill me, please shoot his ass. To be completely transparent, if there’s nothing in this box, I might hunt him down and shoot him myself.”

He chuckled softly at her attempt at a joke. They both knew this was almost the end of the line for them. Wulf was a short chapter in her epic, crummy, never-ending tragedy of a life.

Inside the one-room train station, Mary Jane smiled at the clerk and turned in the direction of the lockers against the left wall with Wulf close behind her. She passed by two wood benches and pulled out the letter from Jake, which had the exact locker number. For some reason when he first gave her the six-digit locker code—she assumed it was a phone number. He had said the rest of the clue about getting to the train station was in the trunk of the Corolla. He’d said if she was found, he didn’t want one of Beasley’s men taking the code and the locker number. After a shaky breath, she put in the code and opened the door to see a large duffel bag.

“Let me open it,” said Wulf.

“No way!” Mary Jane snatched it out.

“What if there’s something dangerous inside?”

“What if it’s my money?”

And don’t be so good to me, Wulf, you haven’t even promised to come with me.

She pulled at the zipper. It stuck and she yanked, but it wouldn’t give. Wulf grabbed the bag. He pulled at the zipper, and stacks of money flew out. They quickly grabbed the bills and stuffed them back inside, though nobody was around.

“It might be drug money,” Wulf advised.

“It just might, Wulf,” she said, exasperated. “Don’t you understand that I don’t give a damn? A naive conscience isn’t the same as a guilty conscience. While the SCPD is a wash, I’m sure you aren’t going to rat me out.”

She snatched the bag, and they hurried out the door. She went to the trunk of the car, pressed the remote, and it popped open. She placed the duffel inside and closed it. She laughed giddily.

“Do you think Glenn will sell me his Grand National? Never mind, just drop me off at the first used-car dealership you see, Dylan. I’m getting a badass bungalow on the ocean!” She rubbed her hands together.

He stopped at the door. “Why’d you call me that?”

“Huh?”

“You just called me by my first name. We’ve already established the reasons you call me Wulf.”

She stroked a hand over his broad chest saying, “I can call you whatever I want.” C’mon, Wulf, don’t make me ask you to come with me. She sighed. Sex as manipulation might work, but she didn’t want the guilt of making Wulf leave behind some shitty town for a life with her, to only find out her crazy ass wasn’t worth it. But the part of her that was Megan didn’t care. That very part of her craved happiness and didn’t consider remorse or regret. It craved Dylan Wulf.

He took hold of her shoulders and looked down at her. “Not Dylan. You only use my given name when attempting to manipulate me. You’re highly aware that I don’t take kindly to deception.”

She pressed her mouth to his in a searing hot kiss, one that left her as breathless as she hoped he was at the moment. “Even if sex is involved? There’s a lot of road between here and L.A. I don’t mind dropping you off on my way to Mexico, but you can’t whine when I grab a wallet or two along the way.”

“Let’s not disregard the fact that this is my rental. But you have a bag full of money!”

“Old habits die hard.”

“Whose habit was that? Mallory’s or Megan’s?”

The happy banter died down. It took her a second, but she mustered up the courage to speak. “Mallory’s. Then again Megan liked to use sex to get what she wanted.” Her fingers nestled in between his belt buckle. “I know exactly what I want, Officer Dylan Wulf.”

She crushed her mouth to his, demanding a fierce kiss. She feasted on his mouth, his tongue, his sexy lips. Could I blow your mind enough to come with me?

Her hands worked their way to the back of his neck. Mary Jane pulled up on her tippy toes as he moaned into her mouth. Lust pulsated between the depths of her thick thighs, but she thought better of jumping up and wrapping her legs around him as she’d done during one of their trysts on their first night together. Wulf’s abdomen needed to rest a while. As her tongue wiggled into his ear, she ordered, “Open the door and get in.”

“It’s daytime.”

“Oh, let’s not make that a problem.” She winked.

She got into the passenger seat as he adjusted the driver’s side and closed the door. She unzipped his pants and pulled out his erect dick. Her mouth watered as she stared at the sex in his eyes. Licking her lips, she leaned toward his length and opened wide with a warm laugh.

Slowly his muscular frame began to relax. Mary Jane marveled in how much power she had over him in this instant. Her breath caressed the tautness of his cock. Her tongue slipped out and twirled around the magnificent king’s crown. Flicking, teasing, and pleasing were part of her plans as her throat expanded to receive him. Arousal pooled into her mouth and she gulped it down along with half of his cock as she sucked.

His erection banged against her tonsils with each thrust.

“Fuck me,” Wulf groaned, twining his hand around her ponytail. He pumped her up and down. Her mouth fucked him sloppy, leaving a wet gloss along the hard, never-ending ridges of his cock.

She moaned and groaned as his cock beat against the back of her throat with each thrust.

“MJ,” he sighed, hardly able to speak. “Fuck, beautiful, I’m about to come.”

Every inch of her body tensed, the warmness inside her gone. The anticipation of pleasing him frozen in time.

“MJ, don’t tease me,” Wulf begged, his eyes opening. The warm, wet, tight funnel was no longer over his cock. When he noticed the tears in her eyes, Wulf caressed her cheek with his callused palm. “Beautiful, what’s wrong?”

She sat back in the seat. Oh, God, this is exactly why I can’t ruin Wulf’s life with my story.

“Tell me.” His voice was woven with authority and serenity.

She dabbed at her eyes with her palm. “Mallory was bitten by a dog.”

“What?”

She gagged, having a vivid image of Vin.

“MJ, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

His concern was tangible, wrapping around her shoulders. But Mary Jane couldn’t get the disgusting taste out of her mouth. Nor the thoughts from her head. Mallory looked to be about fifteen years old. The first time Vin had tried to get her to go down on him, she’d bitten his penis. His pit bull had retaliated at his master’s screech and bit her in the back of her calf muscle.

He cautiously moved into a seated position with her next to him. “Why are you crying?”

“I can’t tell you.” She turned away in embarrassment. His tender eyes were too much. She drowned in his sincerity.

He maneuvered around, grimacing slightly in pain. His callused thumb took hold of her chin, gently pulling her gaze back to his. “MJ, you can tell me anything in the world. We’ve been through so much shit.”

“We are tied together,” she murmured in agreement, still stuck in another world. Damn it, but his beautiful deep voice and the promises he began to make couldn’t bring her back. Vin and his foul taste clung to her.

“MJ, I’ll always be there for you. If you want to run around Mexico for a while, I’ll go. Shit, I will not let anything happen to you in this world, so I am going.”

“Wulf, we’ve connected in ways I’ve never thought possible in just a few token days. But no matter what crap you and I went through, I’d still feel guilty. I haven’t even told you their stories. You’ll want to get rid of me,” she sighed. “I don’t want to know.”

She couldn’t get the image out of her head. Vin had popped the dog on the head after the pit bull had gotten good and locked onto her calf muscle.

“I gotta get out.” She tried to open the door, but her finger slipped on the handle and pain instantly shot through her nails. “I can’t even be Mary Jane with you. I wish I could, but I can’t.” She continued to struggle with the door, tears blurring her gaze.

Wulf took her arm. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

She couldn’t tell him. She’d be so ashamed and disappointed if she was Megan.

“I know how to figure out who I am. Regardless of matching DNA, I could tell you who I am, Wulf. I know how to tell now.”

“Fuck, Mary Jane. Just tell me how you know?”

“I can check the back of my leg. As a teen, Mallory was bit by a dog. Peter always said it was her only imperfection when he was angry.” She lifted her foot onto the seat and began to shove up the tight jeans.

“Wait.” Wulf placed his hand over hers. Their eyes met again. This show of emotion made her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t break their connection. She’d spent days wracking her brain, wondering just who she was. Mary Jane was now plagued with two identities. Of all the questions she’d had, Wulf proceeded to ask the most important one, “Who do you want to be?”

Her lips curved slowly. “Mary Jane.” No connection to Grienke or Portman.

His hand went to her cheek. Wulf reached over, fighting through the pain at his side, to kiss away all of her worries. “Then be Mary Jane.”