Until we reach the South Side, I had almost forgotten how terrifying it can be on a Saturday night. Every shadow’s filled with danger and every person we pass is a threat. A ball of dread becomes so large in my throat that I can hardly swallow.

Liam insisted I wear my hair down with a beanie and go without my glasses so I wouldn’t be recognized by any past or present clients. Honestly, I adore the way he’s always looking out for me and his crew. Life may have wronged him a thousand times, but he’s still on his feet, fighting for those he cares about. He’s far more noble than any man I’ve dated.

I grip his hand tighter than intended as we pass through the scariest block where I once saw a man taking a dump in the middle of the street. Tonight’s not any less intimidating with the amount of times we’re approached for drugs or money. I’m almost thankful my vision’s fuzzy. But it doesn’t do anything to sooth my worries.

Liam strolls up to a set of hookers, tipping his chin to the older of the two. “Candy, baby, how’ve you been?”

“Better now that your fine ass is here.” The woman’s dark eyes flip over to me. There’s a possessive air between her and Liam that clenches my stomach, although the way her gaze rakes up and down my body doesn’t feel hostile. It’s also not welcoming. “Who’s this sexy thing?”

“This is my girl, B.” He throws his arm around my neck like he’s claiming his property. I sink into him, surprised as hell by how safe I suddenly feel despite being in the middle of all the chaos. I’d give anything for this to be our life, for us to be nothing more than a boy and girl who are really into each other. I’d almost be willing to go back to living on the South Side if that’s what it took. Almost.

“B, huh?” Candy’s thin lips painted a bright pink with cheap lipstick spread, showing a line of teeth decayed from frequent meth use. “Hope you’re keepin’ an eye on my boy, B. If there’s trouble, this one’ll find it.”

I rest my hand on Liam’s chest and match her smile. “Don’t worry. I’m keepin’ him honest.”

Liam grunts, rolling his eyes. “Have you seen those students again since you called?”

“Kat dropped by a bit ago, said they was down at Slick Willie’s gettin’ hammered and wavin’ them fliers all over the place. Bet if you hurry your sweet asses down there, you’ll catch ‘em.”

Liam pulls a $20 from his jeans pocket and hands it to her. “Thanks, Candy. Don’t go spending this on anything detrimental to your health.”

Candy slips the money under her bra strap, eyeing me closely. “Mmmhm. And don’t you go messin’ things up with Miss B, here. She looks like a winner with all them pretty teeth.”

As we walk away, I turn to press my head against Liam’s chest to suppress a nasally giggle.

Liam bends down to whisper, “I should’ve told her them pretty teeth taste as good as they look.”

I giggle harder, all at once silly and carefree. It’s a weird sensation—something I’ve rarely experienced, even when Liam’s age. I tend to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and consider everything about life to be grim. It’s hard to slap on a smile at the end of the day after spending countless hours around abused and neglected children. In taking my job seriously, I walk a fine line between depression and guilt. There’s no shutting that shit off.

Since I started sleeping with Liam, I’m not as anxious or uptight about my sucky life or the stressors created by my career. Part of it may be due to the fact that he’s the first man to make me feel sexy and desired instead of needy and vulnerable, or even a victim.

If I were to analyze the relationship too closely, I’m sure I’d convince myself it’s only because he’s so young and doesn’t have as many responsibilities. But that’s a load of crap, considering he has more dire troubles than any grown man I know. The dreamer in me wants to believe it’s because we fit so well together, although I’m still trying to accept the reality that this won’t be anything more than a fling. A walk on the wild side. Forsaken lust.

A short distance later, we’re standing outside Slick Willie’s. With a lump in my throat, I stop Liam on the sidewalk. “Maybe I shouldn’t go in. I’ve worked with so many people from this neighborhood. What if someone recognizes me?”

“You’re sure as fuck not staying out here alone.” He reels me in tight against him and drops a kiss on my forehead. “Stick close and pretend you’re shy. They won’t suspect anything with you here as my girl.”

I’m tucked into his side as we enter. Thankfully it’s twice as dark as I remember, keeping curious stares at bay. The place reeks of weed and there’s a haze of smoke suspended in the air despite the state-wide ban on smoking indoors. Rock music rattles against my eardrums, made worse by the buzz of cackling laughter and shouted conversations.

Liam strolls up to the bar, waving a bartender over like he’s the king of the world. I’m probably not too far off with the analogy. “Two rum and sodas.”

The beefy man behind the bar glances to where I’m cuddled against Liam before nodding. “Sure thing, Rook.”

Of course he’s served on the South Side. Most kids use fake IDs, but it’s not necessary when you’re one of the South Town Players.

A few patrons at the bar gape in our direction, so I bury my face against Liam’s chest. Everyone will have heard by now that he shot his old man. They’re probably wondering what he’s doing back in the old neighborhood. They’re maybe even afraid. Better their attention stay on him than his new girl of the week.

A minute later we’re handed our drinks at no charge. The bartender appears pleased with himself for giving someone with Liam’s stature a freebie.

Liam leads me away and heads toward a small group gathered around the pool tables in back. The University students stick out like a sore thumb among the regulars. Their designer clothes, shiny white smiles, and perfect hair would’ve been a dead giveaway if they weren’t clutching stacks of fliers. It also makes them a prime target for muggings. The urge to smack them each upside the head vibrates through my core as Liam approaches, making the locals scatter.

“You the ones looking for your missing friends?” His question is directed at the big-breasted blonde with mascara smudges around her eyes. She’s an exact replica of the spoiled rich girls I dealt with in college that would taunt me for the simple way I dressed or wore my hair. Simply because I escaped the South Side on scholarships didn’t mean I suddenly had money to spend on anything else.

The two girls and their guy friend all seem to light up with Liam’s question, maybe because they’re hopeful, maybe because they find him attractive. My stomach dips when I realize they may be closer to his age than mine. I’ve never felt so ancient at twenty-three.

“Yeah we are.” The blonde thrusts a flier at Liam, her eyes taking him in like he’s a giant lollipop. “Have you seen them? They were last seen here a month ago. The cops aren’t doing anything to find them.”

I crane my neck to study the picture along with Liam of three young women. Two dirty blondes and a fair-complected brunette. Each relatively fit, each seemingly average. There’s nothing unique about them either individually or as a group, although they’re each pretty enough. Someone in the South Side could’ve started up a sex trafficking business. It’d be the first known ring in the area since I started my job, but it wouldn’t be unheard of. The statistics of that shit going on across the country is mind-boggling.

Liam shakes his head while handing the flier back to the blonde. “I’m sorry, we haven’t.”

She pushes his hand back, letting her fingers linger a little too long on the back of his hand. “Keep it. We made hundreds of these damn things. No one around here seems to have heard or seen anything, but I think they’re all full of shit!” When she yells out the last words, a few of the locals snigger.

“What were they doing here in the first place?” I ask. “You guys must all know this neighborhood is dangerous.”

“They into drugs?” Liam adds.

“Just pot,” the guy answers, shrugging. “No different than anyone else at the U. Everyone comes down here for the good stuff.”

“Probably because it’s laced with other shit,” I mutter, only loud enough for Liam to hear.

He huffs with an agreeable noise while glancing back at the picture. “Did any of them mention any names, or maybe say they were coming here to meet someone?”

“No, but they’d been acting kind of weird,” the blonde answers, pushing her lip out.

“Define ‘weird’,” I prod, annoyed by her childish pouting.

The blonde’s Bambi eyes don’t leave Liam, like he’s the one who asked her a question. “None of them come from a lot of money, but they’d been spending it like crazy. On shoes and purses and shit. A week before they disappeared, they bought dinner for the entire sorority house, then hired male dancers and a deejay. I swear it’s like they had won the lottery.”

“They could’ve started dealing,” I say, exchanging a similarly bright-eyed expression with Liam. “Where else would they get that kind of money?”

Liam’s brow furrows when he eyes the blonde. “Anything else about their behavior stand out to you before they disappeared?”

“Not that I can remember. But there were these two guys who came to see them a day or two before they went missing. I think they might have been father and son. One was this skinny redheaded kid, and the other was big and scary, with scars all over his face.”

A skinny redheaded kid. Trask?

“Fuck,” Liam mutters, rubbing his neck. He pins the blonde down with a sharp look. “Was the big guy wearing a fedora?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“We have to go,” Liam tells me, obviously unnerved by this guy wearing a fedora.

The blonde pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, eyeing him like he doesn’t have his arm around another woman. “You should give me your number in case I think of anything else.”

I’d like to think in another life, I would slap her for leering over my man. Possibly even pull her hair a little.

Liam holds the piece of paper up. “We have everything we need.” He drags me up against him, kissing the top of my head. “Let’s get out of here.”

I want to kiss him for being smart enough not to give out anything that could get back to King Marty. Okay, most of all I’m just grateful he isn’t falling for this bimbo’s act. Before he can pull me away, I throw the trio a deadly glare, settling on the busty blonde. “Unless you want to end up like your friends, stay the fuck away from the South Side.”

The blonde sticks one hip out like a cartoon character, folding her arms over her chest. It’s so juvenile and over the top that the urge to slap her intensifies. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, it’s a warning. I grew up around here. This neighborhood will destroy girls like you.” I kind of hate myself for sounding like a mom, so I add, “I see any of you in here again, I’ll kick every last one of your preppy asses myself.”

Liam chuckles quietly, squeezing me against him. Then he falls quiet as we make our way back to the sidewalk.

“You know the guy in the fedora?” I assume, stopping him.

His brow wrinkles. “Yeah. That’s Terrance—King Marty’s muscle. He’s the one who came by the school the morning Trask was arrested, asked where Sasha went to school.”

“And he went to visit those missing girls with Trask.” I take his hand in mine, squeezing it lightly. “Seems to me you’re one step closer to discovering a reason why King Marty would want Trask behind bars.”

“But what business would they have with those girls?”

I shake my head and wrap him in my arms, wishing I had all the answers.

Deep down, I’m terrified Trask isn’t as innocent as Liam would like to believe.

* * *

Back at my apartment, we kick around a few ideas behind the girls’ disappearance. Any scenario we can think of still doesn’t explain Trask’s involvement.

When we run out of ideas, I throw in a frozen pizza. Liam wraps his around me from behind as I’m closing the oven door. “Thank you,” he says, his voice rough against my ear.

I lean back against him, realizing his arms are the first place in my entire life that I’ve felt I truly belong. “For dinner?” I tease, although I sense he means something more.

“For helping me…believing in me. You’re the first person to tell me how it is, no bullshit. I mean, fuck. You’re the first person to make me think I’m worth the air I breathe.”

Heart twisting, I turn to take his face in my hands. “You’re worth so much more than that, Liam. So goddamn much more.”

He kisses me hard and soft all at once, his lips and tongue conveying gratitude and adoration. We strip out of our clothes in record time before he sets me on the edge of the counter top. We join together like it’s the most natural thing in the world, our hips rocking together to the beat of a silent ballad.

At some point in the past few days, our bodies became synced, making each of our orgasms come faster and with more intensity. He’s able to read me like a map, knowing when and where to add the right amount of pressure, how to suck on my nipple until I crumble. We’re no longer two lost souls, but rather one strong entity that can take on the shit life throws our way.

As I’m floating back down from a toe-curling climax, his hand slides up and down my throat with a commanding amount of pressure. The powerful intensity in his gaze takes my breath away, due in large part to the fact that I’m finally able to see his other eye. With only a slight discoloration remaining, my waning sympathy makes it easier to be turned on by his sexy smile.

“Damn, baby,” he growls in a throaty whisper. “Nothing better than watching you come.”

Then he finishes inside me with a strained grunt and a violent shudder, resting his sweaty face on my shoulder. I stroke his jaw and pepper his face with kisses until he’s sweeping me off my feet, carrying me over to the couch.

We make out like we’re fighting, wrestling with brutal mouths and angry tongues. Every moment we’re together is one more opportunity to be with him than I dreamed we’d have. I long for the kind of future we’ll never get the chance to experience: lazy mornings of laying in bed together and making love for endless hours.

At one point I’m on top of him, staring into his beautiful eyes as I run my fingertips along his swollen lips, wondering how I became the lucky one to win Liam Rooker’s devoted affection.

“What are you doing with me?” I whisper. “It’s your senior year. You should be off wooing cheerleaders and girls like that blonde at Slick Willie’s.”

“You fuckin’ kidding me? I wouldn’t be caught dead with her type.” His fingers loop with mine as he continues. “I prefer my woman to have a backbone. I want someone who’s real and isn’t afraid to fight for what’s right. I love that you’re stubborn and know how to put assholes like Stone in their place. I fucking love that you don’t sweat the small stuff, and recognize what’s important in life. I love that you don’t take a thousand selfies a day, although I wish you’d send me a few.” His eyebrows wiggle as the dimple I adore pops into place. “I also love the fact that you have great tits and a tight ass. You’re the total package, baby.”

I try swallowing several times before the lump in my throat disappears. Every time his lips spill the word “love,” my chest fills with butterflies. Am I really all those things?

His thumb taps the charm dangling between our wrists. “What’s with this anyway?”

The sudden question sends a quiver through my stomach. “It was a present. To remind me of…someone.”

“An old boyfriend?”

For an unpleasant moment, Matthew’s face flickers before me. I cringe, hating myself for all the times I’ve thought of him lately. Until Liam came along, I was able to block the bastard out for years.

Liam must take my reaction as admission because a flash of anger passes through his green eyes. “Tell me some prick isn’t gonna swoop in and take you away from me.”

I suck in a breath and hold it until my chest burns and tears sting my eyes. He’s scared of losing me. As much as I care about him, we can't have any kind of future together. Too many obstacles remain. I slide my fingers through his soft hair and release a soft laugh. “God, no. It’s nothing like that.”

He shakes his head, clearly unconvinced. Red splotches begin to fill his cheeks, running down his neck. “Are you sure, because if it was a grandma or someone innocent, you would’ve come flat out and told me to my fucking face.”

I pinch my lips together before letting out a quiet sigh. The truth could ruin everything, but I have to tell him eventually. “I have a daughter, Liam, okay?”

He blinks wide-eyed back at me. “What?”

Holding my stomach, I crawl off him, arranging to sit with my legs hanging over the side of the couch. Even with what he went through with his babysitter, he’s too young to understand the kind of sacrifice I was forced to make. I wouldn’t be surprised if this scared him away.

“I was young…too young to offer her anything, so I gave her up. Brylee’s adoptive parents gave me this bracelet the day she was born. They wanted to give me something to show their appreciation, and something to remind me of her.”

He sits up beside me, running a hand over his messy hair. “Holy shit. How old is she?”

“She’ll be nine in June.”

“Jesus Christ, Brooke.” He drops his head into his hands, shaking it. “You would’ve been so fucking young.” He pauses, peering at me between his fingers. “Please don’t tell me your old man—”

“Oh my god, no.” My stomach folds over itself with the mere idea. “It was an older kid who lived in the foster home where I was placed. It wasn’t all that different from what happened to you. He was a crafty asshole…convinced me over time that touching me in that way would prove that I was loved. I was naive, but I still should’ve known better. I think I just liked the idea of someone being nice to me for a change…like it canceled out all the times my dad whipped me with his belt.”

Liam shoots to his feet, releasing a guttural roar. “Motherfucker!” Rage washes over him like a tidal wave as he begins to pace the living room, hands balled into fists, neck chorded. He’s suddenly too big for my little apartment, too scary. “Where can I find this asshole?”

“My social worker tried to find him when it came out that I was pregnant, but he ran away. Last I heard he was living somewhere out East.”

With a violent shake of his head, he drops down at my side, wiping his hands over his face. “I don’t know how to process this shit without wanting to tear someone’s head clean off. The fact that he got you pregnant, then ran off like a coward…it’s too damn much. I’d do anything to protect you, but I’m helpless here.”

“That was a long time ago…an entirely different chapter in my life.” I pull his hands away from his face and crawl into his lap, brushing my lips over his. “I’m happy now, because of you. You make everything better. No man has ever wanted to keep me safe the way you do. No one has ever made me feel this desired.”

His fingers brush my hair over my shoulders as his eyes rake over my sad expression. In this moment he’s so gentle and caring that I want to collapse in his arms and cry until I’m out of tears. I’ve never really allowed myself to mourn the loss of my daughter because I knew it may be more than I could handle.

“If you ever wanted to try to find her, I’d help you,” he offers gently.

My heart clenches with the amorous way he’s regarding me. This beautiful man has next to nothing…I should be offering to help him. “It’s sweet of you to offer, but if I ever want to meet Brylee, the adoptive parents gave me their numbers. I considered arranging something a couple years back when they reached out with a new address in Connecticut.” I wrap my arms around his neck, cherishing the intimacy of the moment. There’s no doubt in my mind he’d do anything for me, and that’s almost as scary as it is comforting. “I’m not sure I’m ready to take that step. She’s old enough to understand that she was abandoned. I know that feeling too well…I don’t think I could do that to her.”

“You might be surprised. She may understand if you told her the whole story. The fact that you gave her up because you wanted a better life for her says a lot. You think our parents ever would’ve done that for us? Hell no.” He kisses me long and hard, letting his lips linger for a minute before touching our foreheads together. “You’re a good person, Brooke. Your heart’s even bigger than your beautiful tits. It makes you easy as shit to fall in love with.”

There’s that word again.

The truth clicks into place, bringing a rush of tears to my eyes.

I’m head-over-heels in love with him.

* * *

The next morning I’m called into my supervisor’s office. Entering the small, stuffy room with dozens of files covering the outdated desk never fails to give me hives, and that’s without Tara sitting behind the desk. Today the sides of her pale blond hair are pulled back with bobby pins, and she’s wearing a black jacket over a plain white shirt. Closely set gray eyes, sharp cheekbones, thin lips always pressed into a hard line, she’s intimidating as hell in looks alone. Our relationship has always been formal and cold, so I really can’t say much about her personality other than the fact that she takes everything with dire seriousness. I once overheard two male attorneys joking over whether or not she’s human. I think they may be onto something.

“Have a seat,” she barks out in her usual brass tone. She holds up one of the standard green client files. “I’m going over Trask Green’s file, trying to piece everything together.”

I almost miss the edge of the armchair as I lower down, stomach churning. “Trask Green has a file with us?”

“He was temporarily removed from the home when he was four. His mother was found passed out in a parking lot after she’d shot up with heroine. Trask and an infant were found in the backseat.” The moment her sharp, beady eyes move up to meet mine, my bowels clench. “I’m assuming you know all about his recent charges as he’s a close friend of Liam Rooker’s. Were you aware he has a little sister?”

The room tilts a little when I nod. “Yeah, her name came up. Why?”

“Last contact we had with the family was ten years ago. Mom had successfully completed treatment and was holding down a steady job. But we received a heads up a couple weeks ago that the kids were living alone. I’ve been unable to reach her by either phone or the address on file. The middle school where Sasha is enrolled says she’s being homeschooled. Something doesn’t add up.” The way her dark eyes lock on me, I swear she can see the guilt written all over my face. “In the time you worked with Liam, did he mention anything about the sister? When I asked him about her, he claimed she went to live in Colorado with a relative, but there wasn’t any mention of extended family in the file. To be perfectly honest, I don’t trust that kid. I get the feeling he’s lying about everything.”

The instinct to lash out and tell her it’s because he doesn’t trust someone like her sticks to my throat. “What reason would he have to lie about something like that?”

“I’m not sure, but we received a tip on the hotline from a man that claimed Sasha is unaccounted for. He thinks someone is hiding her from child services.”

Fissions of fear ripple down my back.

Trask and Liam are right. King Marty is looking for Sasha.