Kingwood Manor is portentous with its ivy-covered walls and black spires reaching for the dark skies. The red brick masonry was laid years before we took up residence, but remains pristine. I skid to a stop, trying to leave a mark before I park next to a familiar beat-up, forest green Maxima. The car is parked, but idling.

When I get out, I tap on the waiting car, and tilt to look inside. The window is rolled down and Chad looks over. I say, “I’m going to change clothes. I’ll be right out.”

When I get back in, I tease, “Your car is a piece of shit. You know that, right?” Reaching over, I lock it just in case it decides to fly open while we’re driving.

“Not all of us can live in the splendors and spoils of wealth.”

“They call me King for a reason.”

He backs the car up, and we head into the world where it’s always felt easier than living behind these brick walls. “And here I always thought it was just a coincidence with your last name.”

“Ha.” I click my seat belt into place because Sara Jane would kick my ass if she found out I wasn’t buckled in properly. She’s cute like that.

Reading my mind, he asks, “How is Sara Jane after last night?”

“She’s fine,” I reply. “She adapts well to change. Anyway, I don’t think anything I do anymore surprises her.” I laugh.

“She made valid points.”

Looking at him, my brow furrows. “Not you too, Chad. I need your help. No one’s better than you.”

“Sometimes I wonder if what we’re doing is right.”

“It’s not legal.”

“I didn’t say legal. I said right. There’s a difference. I’m not hurting anyone by digging up information. It’s what is done with that information that keeps me up at night.”

“Don’t worry.”

He looks over at me. His hair shaggier than usual, the wire arm of his glasses slightly bent. Shifting eyes between the road and me. “I’m worried. Shelly’s involved—”

“I won’t keep you if you don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”

“I need the money.”

“Shit, Chad. I get it.” My temper flairs, but it’s hard to be mad at one of the nicest people I know. He never argues, so this conversation surprises me, but I get it. “This is not your battle.”

“You’re my friend. I want to help you.”

The high-rise looms ahead. “I’ll give you the money you need for school whether you stay or not.”

“I can’t do that.”

Staring out the window, the misery I’ve dragged my friends into envelops me. “You can.” Taking a deep breath, I calm the anger that could be unleashed too easily these days. He doesn’t deserve to bear the brunt of it. “We’re friends, Chad. You’re one of my best friends. If I can help, I will.”

When the car is stopped and I notice my bike alongside it, I turn to Chad. “You do what’s best for you.”

“Thanks. Hey, good luck,” he says when I get out.

“I don’t need luck. I have this.” I flash a wad of bills and a snarky smile.

He shakes his head in disapproval. “Like I said, good luck, King.”

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime.”

Once I’m on my bike, I drive out of the nicer part of the city and meet Cruise by the bridge.

Word got out.

The welcome wagon is waiting for us when we arrive at the dilapidated building where April has taken up residence.

Four bikes and a car.

Fuck.

Why do I have a strong suspicion this isn’t a friendly welcome?

We stop at the other end. To my left, Cruise waits for me to make the final call. I ask, “Do you think we were set up?”

“I don’t think we’ll know unless we go for it.”

I’m hesitant to drag him into a situation that shouts danger. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“We’ve come this far.”

Nodding, I say, “We’ve come this far.”

We held our own . . . in the beginning, but being outnumbered and with a gun to our heads, we both fell fast. I protected my ribs and head the best I could. The large beef-heads converged and just enough damage was done to send a message. It’s times like these that I wonder if they know who I really am. They must. If I weren’t under the Kingwood name, I have no doubt we’d be dead. My ears are still ringing from a blow to my right side. I spit pooling blood from my mouth, and squat down, my side hurting. “Fuck, Cruise. What are we doing?”

“We’re getting close.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if we weren’t, they wouldn’t have been hiding behind their fists.” His head rolls to the side and he spits. “It will only get worse the closer we get to the answers.”

Pushing myself to my feet, I walk over to him. “They’re trying to keep us from finding out more than we have.”

“Yup. Ow.” He grabs his side.

When I reach him, he’s lying on his back and looks like he’s in a lot of pain. He takes the offered hand, and I pull him to his feet. Our hands flip into our regular greeting, our fingers anchored together. “Thanks, brother.”

“Got your back, man.”

“Yeah. Got yours, too.”

“Yeah, let’s not get mushy over this shit. My jaw fucking hurts.” He wiggles it back and forth so I know it’s not broken. Thank fuck.

I help him lift his bike off the ground, and he does the same for me. They kicked in my exhaust, denting it. Fuckers. They’ll pay for that, and I don’t mean monetarily. Picking my wallet out of a puddle, I see they took five hundred dollars and my credit cards. I don’t worry about that shit. Those cards have trackers, and they can’t use them without a fingerprint to activate them. Kingwoods aren’t going to let their black cards be used by just anyone.

After picking up the pieces of my phone, I toss the remains in a dumpster. “Fuckers will pay for this.”

“Shit, they scratched the paint. Stupid fucks.” He swings his leg over and starts his bike. “Looks like the ties between them go back to before April, but we need her to get the details. You think she’ll show?”

Settling onto the leather seat of my bike, I smile though it hurts. “I’m sure ’cause you’ll make sure of it.”

He moves forward until he’s even with me. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“We can’t back down now.”

“One way or the other. But no matter what, we’ll be prepared next time.”

Reaching out, we fist bump. “Let’s get out of here.”

We take it slow to analyze the damage done to our bikes. I think they got it worse than we did. Fuck the blood. I’ll heal, but damn, my bike. That pisses me off.

I just hope my face isn’t too bad or Sara Jane will freak out and my dad will kick my ass tomorrow night. We clean up and buy a Gatorade at a gas station. Fighting always wears me down, which is why I never did it unless necessary.

Tonight it was necessary.

We hit an all-night diner, needing fuel. “I’m starving,” I say when we slide into a booth across from each other.

Cruise laughs. “Damn this light is not flattering. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your pretty boy face look so fucked up before.”

“That’s because I usually win.”

The waitress pours coffee for each of us without saying a word. She takes our orders, and when she finally looks us over, she asks if we need ice.

“Is it bad?” I ask.

“Nah, but I’ll bring it anyway so you don’t swell.”

We eat our eggs and bacon, pancakes, and potato wedges with one hand, holding icepacks to our cheeks with the other. When she brings the ticket, she asks, “What do the other guys look like?”

Cruise works his charm and lies, “Worse than us.”

“Good for you.”

* * *

Midnight.

When I open the door to her apartment, Sara Jane is asleep on her couch. Some old sitcom is on the TV and her kitchen light is on. Taking the remote, I flick the TV off and hit the light switch off, too. I kneel down in front of the couch and watch her. She’s troubled, a little wrinkle in her forehead giving her worried mind away. Her body is restless, and I count her breaths. Every third breath is punctuated with a sigh.

Her eyes slowly open, but she’s not scared. She actually looks more at peace looking into my eyes. “When did you get here?”

“Only a minute ago,” I reply as I stroke her head gently.

Reaching out, she touches the corner of my mouth. I thought I’d cleaned up the blood, but her peace turns to turmoil, and she lifts her head. “What happened? Why are you bleeding?”

“It’s no big deal. We should go to bed.” I start to stand, but she grabs hold of the sleeve of my jacket.

“Alexander, what happened?”

“It was handled, baby. Don’t worry.” I twist my arm so my palm is open to her.

Her gaze goes from my hand to my face, and then she accepts the offer. When she’s standing, all five feet four inches, bare feet, and tiny pajamas, she wraps her arms around my middle. “I always worry about you.”

“It’s a bad habit you need to break.”

When she looks up, her lips are twisted to the side. “You’ve got a few of your own.”

“Truer words were never spoken. Come on.”

In the bedroom, I strip off my clothes after leaving her in the bathroom, happy to be going to bed. “I’m exhausted.”

She comes back into the bedroom with a towel, a washrag, and a cup of water. “Lie down.”

“Are we playing nurse and patient?”

Her laugh is music, the melody one I know by heart. “You wish.”

“I do, on every star.”

Sitting next to me, she asks, “You waste your wishes on role play?”

“No. I spend all my wishes on you.”

“I hope they all come true.”

Kissing her on the cheek, I whisper, “They already have.”

“You’re very charming when you want to be.”

“I always wanna be with you.” I lie back as instructed. She dips the washrag in the cup. When she touches it to my face, she’s careful, but I still protest, “I’m not hurt.”

“You’re bleeding. That means you’re hurt.” I wince and get a hard glare. “What happened?”

“Some guys needed to flex their muscle to prove a point.”

“On your face?”

When I laugh, I wince again. “Fine. Maybe they did a little more damage than I first thought.”

Her gaze dips down my body. “Is that bruising on your ribs?”

“It doesn’t hurt that much. Surface bruising.”

“Did you get what you were after?”

“Guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

She wipes across my forehead, keeping her eyes on the job at hand. “What’s tomorrow?”

“A party at Kingwood Enterprises. I want you to be there. Will you come?”

Her hand stops, the rag still pressed to the side of my eye. “I’m not sure I can make it.”

Taking hold of her hips, I wait until she finally makes eye contact to say, “I need you there, Firefly.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I want you there.”

She sighs. “I have my group project.”

“Then come after.” I wiggle her hips. “Come to the party. Please.”

Setting the rag down and taking the towel, she pats my face. I open my eyes to find her searching my expression. “I’ll consider it.”

“That’s the second thing you’re having to consider. Any thoughts on the previous?”

She smiles, and I smile in response. “It’s only been a few hours.”

“And?”

“I need more time.”

“I want you with me. Every night. Every morning.”

“I practically am now.”

“Practically isn’t all the time.”

Her smile grows. “You make it hard to say no. You know that?”

“Actually, you’re the one who makes it hard.” I take her hand from my face and move it lower until she finds something harder to hold on to.

“How are you always ready for sex?”

“I was born for action.”

“I’m starting to believe you.” She stands with her nurse supplies in hand. “I think you’ll live. I hope the other guy got worse.”

“It was three of them.”

She scoffs. “Good God, Alexander. You’re lucky this was the only damage they did.”

“My bike got worse.” She rolls her eyes at that one, as I knew she would.

“Your bike can be replaced.” She walks to the bathroom. My pretty firefly floats like an angel back to me. The light is turned out, and she slips under the covers, careful when she slides against me. She whispers, “You can’t. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That earns me a poke to my ribs. “Ouch.”

“Oh damn, I forgot. I’m so sorry.”

As panic takes over, the apologies roll off her tongue, so I grab hold of her, welcoming the touch of her warm and soft skin. “I’m fine. Really. It’s okay.”

Laying her head on the pillow next to mine, she says, “I’m sorry.”

“You said it yourself. I’ll live.” Her lips warm my chest. My arm tightens around her. “Be with me, baby. Be with me always.”

She rolls to the side and looks at me. “I’m with you, Alexander. We’re one. Always one.” Rolling onto her back, her shoulder pressed to mine. Her hands are like a prayer as she rests her cheek on them. “I want to live with you.”

I’m tired. I’m delirious. I must have misheard, my ear still slightly ringing. I’m mentally and physically exhausted. “Really?”

“Really,” she replies with a solid smile, one stuck on love. I suspect mine’s similar.

“Best news I could get.” Looking at her, I lean over and kiss the tip of her nose. “What changed your mind?”

“You came over tonight.”

“That’s all it took?”

“Why did you come over?”

“Because you were here.”

“That’s all it took.” She kisses me gently and leans back again. The tips of her fingers run along my neck and over my shoulder before she rests her palm on my arm. “I shouldn’t say this because Lord knows you don’t need your ego inflated, but I’m going to anyway.”

“Hit me with the compliments, woman. My ego is the only thing not bruised tonight.”

“You’re more thoughtful than you let on. You’re gentler than you like to show the world. You’re not as tough as you want people to believe. It’s for all those reasons and a million more that I love being with you. So remember, you don’t have to wear your armor to bed. I love you, the man before me now.”

Her leg swings over mine, and she pulls herself closer.

“Ouch,” I mumble, wishing I could hide the pain better.

She lifts up, and strokes my hair from my forehead. “Aww, poor baby. I’ll take extra special care of you and help heal my wounded knight in shining armor.” Kissing my chest, she rests over my heart, her hand tapping to the beat. “So it’s us. Officially now.”

I cover her body by wrapping my arms around her. “There was never any other way. It was always together or nothing.”

“Seems that way.” The tips of her lashes brush against my chest when she closes her eyes. “Thank you for coming over tonight.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be.”