The kitten is a female. Filthy. Crusty eyes. Enormous head stuck onto a scrawny, flea-ridden body. I dug around in the kitchen, looking for something to feed it when I got home. All I came up with was a can of beef stew and a can of evaporated milk. I cracked the can of milk and poured some onto a plate and watched her lap it up like she was starving.

Afterward, I took her into the bathroom ran a shallow puddle of warm water into the sink. I expected a fight but she let me bathe her, letting out little mewling sounds when I scrubbed her ears. Gently cleaned her eyes with a washcloth. Opening my dad’s drawer, I start rifling through it. Looking for something to trim the thicker pieces of gunk off, I feel my fingertips brush against something cool and smooth and I yank back, my fingers curled into a fist and clenched into a fist, over my hammering heart.

My father’s straight razor.

He kept it.

Probably because getting rid of it would be like admitting the truth. That his wife didn’t die unexpectedly. That she didn’t die of natural causes.

That she left us on purpose.

That she killed herself.

I’m not sure how long I stand there, staring into the open drawer, my heart pounding in my throat. Long enough that the kitten in the sink starts yowling and clambering at the sides of it trying to get out.

Slamming the drawer, I snatch a towel off the bar before lifting the soaking wet kitten from the sink. Squeezing it dry, I set it on the counter and plug in the hairdryer. Setting it to low, I aim it at the kitten, letting the warm air dry and fluff her fur. When she’s clean and dry, I carry her into my room and set her on my bed while I get ready for bed. By the time I crawl in beside her she’s asleep and I’m not far behind.

When I sleep, I dream about my mom.

“Tess, someone is here to see you.”

My dad’s voice rings across the garage, the sound of it pulling my head up fast enough to cramp my neck. If it was Henley he wouldn’t bother announcing her. She’s like family. She’s also the only person who ever comes around looking for me.

Except Declan.

He came looking for me last night.

Straightening from my stoop, I reach for the bandana I keep tucked into my back pocket. Deeming it sufficiently clean, I scrub at my face, trying to get as much grime and engine dust off of it as I can. It’s late afternoon, I’ve been working non-stop for almost ten hours. Even without the benefit of a mirror, I know I’m covered in it.

What the hell are you doing? This is Declan Gilroy. He’s an asshole. Who cares what he thinks?

I do.

The realization has me shoving my bandana back into my pocket and stepping out from behind the car I’m working on, intent on telling him what I told him last night.

To leave me the hell alone.

But it’s not Declan standing in the doorway.

It’s Ryan, Henley’s older brother.

He’s got his hands dug into his pockets and he keeps shooting my dad nervous glances while my dad glares at him from his workbench where he’s fucking around with a fuel pump.

“Jesus,” I mutter, tossing my wrench into my toolbox before slamming the hood of the car. It’s my last for the day and I’m finally finished. Scooping the kitten out of the box I’ve got her stashed in, I head for the door. Passing Ryan without stopping, I walk in the shadow of the building and round the corner. The only indication that he’s following me is the shadow he casts along the wall.

There’s a grassy spot where the sidewalk is broken and I set the kitten on it so she can do her business. “If you’re worried about me saying something about last night or if Declan sent you here to warn me or whatever—”

“What’s going on with Hen and Conner?”

The question snaps my head up, sending another twinge down the side of my neck. “Going on?” I act like I have no idea what he’s talking about. “What do you mean?”

He looks at me for a few seconds, his expression hard. Jaw stiff. “Quit dicking with me, Tess.” Aside from his deep brown eyes, he doesn’t look anything like Henley. No freckles. No bright orange hair. You can’t even tell it’s red unless the sun is shining on it like it is now. I’ve heard girls at school talk about him. How good-looking he is. I’ve never really noticed. He’s Henley’s big brother. That practically makes him family. The ick factor is pretty high. “He’s been weirder than usual for months—always spending time with her. Not wanting to party. He hasn’t hooked up with anyone in months.”

“It’s weird that you’ve noticed that,” I tell him. “You know that, right?”

“Not really.” He shakes his head. “Con is on a different level. He couldn’t keep his dick to himself if his life depended on it and he’s never been shy about who, how or when.” He swipes a hand over his face, leaving behind a disgusted grimace. “When I came home last night she was crying and I think he’d be there. I think—” He stops talking, like the words are caught in his throat.

“You think your best friend tried to fuck your little sister?” I say, being blunt on purpose.

“Jesus, Tess—” He actually looks like he might throw up. “Look, I just need to know what’s going on.”

“Why?” I dig my hands into the pocket of my coveralls, gaze aimed at the kitten playing in the grass at my feet. I look up at him and almost laugh. “Because you suddenly give a shit about Henley?”

His head snaps back like I punched him in the face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve been leaving her to clean up your family messes for as long as I can remember, Ryan.” Bending down, I scoop the kitten off the grass. When I stand, he’s glaring down at me. He looks like he wants to hit me. It’s okay. I know he won’t. “While you’re off running the streets and getting laid, your mother beats on her. She’s the only thing standing between your father and choking to death on his own vomit and you can’t be bothered with any of it.” I lift my free hand and jab him in the chest with my finger. “She needs you. All the time. Every day. You don’t get to pick and choose when you want to be her brother.”

He just stares at me. Doesn’t argue or try to tell me that I’m wrong. It’s like he doesn’t even hear me. I drop my finger and take a step back. “Leave your sister alone and leave Con alone too—because if there is something going on between them, it would be none of your business.”

I walk away.

He doesn’t try to follow me.

After I left Ryan, I walked to Von’s. I’ve been standing in the pet aisle, staring at their selection of cat litter for what feels like days now.

I have twenty bucks.

The prices I’m looking at make me wish I made Declan cough up the fifty he offered me last night.

No. I don’t want his money. Because I know where it came from. I know what he does to earn it.

He steals cars.

For my dad.

He thinks I don’t know, but I’ve known for months now.

From the depths of my coveralls, my stowaway lets out a pitiful excuse for a meow. Pulling them away from my chest, I look down to watch the kitten stretch up on her hind legs and poke her head through the opening.

She meows again.

“I know, I know…” I use the tip of my finger to scratch her behind her ear before poking her back into her hiding place. “I’m hurrying.”

“Excuse me, Miss,” a deep voice says behind me. “Is that a kitten in your shirt?”

I whip around to find Declan standing a few feet away. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt and looks fucking incredible, despite the fact that his jaw is bruised and he has a one-inch gash in his chin that’s been superglued shut.

Jesus. I can’t catch a fucking break.

I turn back around and glare at bags and buckets of cat litter. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“You did,” he says, the sound of his voice drifting closer. Reaching past me, he grabs two bright green buckets of litter off the shelf and puts them in my cart. “But I’ve always been horrible at following directions.” With that he, commandeers my cart completely, pushing it down the aisle to stop in front of the selection of cat food.

I stare at him for a few seconds before scrambling after him. I watch silently while he scoops a small mountain of canned food off the shelf and into the basket. “What do you think?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest before giving me a sideways glance. “Meow Mix or Cat Chow?” When I don’t answer, he nods. “Good choice.” He grabs a big bag of both and adds them to the cart.

Next it’s a collar. Food and water bowls. Cat toys. Treats. A fancy litter tray that’s supposed to do everything but wipe the cat’s ass.

“I can’t afford any of this shit,” I blurt out, reaching out to grab the cart when he starts to push it toward the front of the store. “I came in here for a few cans of food and a cheap bag of litter—that’s it.”

“I owe you fifty bucks, remember?”

I remember. Wasn’t I just bitching to myself about not asking him for it before I stormed off last night? “I don’t want your money.”

“That may be, Tesla—” He covers my hand with his and gives me a smirk when I jerk it away and off of the cart. “but you need it.”

On cue, the furball in my shirt pokes her head out and lets out a squeak.

Before I can refuse him again, he keeps talking. “I mean, you wouldn’t even have a cat to buy food for it if I hadn’t shown up and dragged you into my mess—” Reaching for me, he pulls me closer by the front of my coveralls. “Right?”

I nod and stop breathing when he starts to work the front of them open. “I propose we share joint custody,” he says softly, his dark blue gaze dipping lower to rest on my mouth.

I lick my lips because my mouth is suddenly so dry it feels like I’ve been eating sand and his jaw goes tight. “Joint custody?” I sound stupid when I say it. Like I have no idea what the words mean. I’m wearing clothes underneath. Jeans and a tank, same as always, but that doesn’t matter. My heart starts going crazy like it did last night when he got too close. All I can do is wonder what it would be like if Declan Gilroy was undressing me for real. If we were alone and I didn’t absolutely hate everything about him.

“Yeah.” He looks up at me when he says it. Coveralls loose to my waist, he slips his massive hand inside. “Joint custody.” His wide, blunt fingertips skim along the underside of my breast and I have to lock my knees in place to keep from crumbling to the floor. “You take care of it and I’ll buy what you need to do it.” His hand closes over the squirming lump tucked under my arm and pulls it out, his knuckles grazing my nipple on the way out.

The cat.

He was reaching for the cat.

“Her.” I watch him tuck the kitten into the crook of his elbow where she promptly starts purring so loud she sounds like a motorboat. “She’s not an it. She’s a her.”

“Okay. Her.” He flashes me a grin. “Do we have a deal?”

It’s only fair, right? He’s not wrong. I wouldn’t even have the cat if he hadn’t shown up and dragged me into his business. I mean, why should I have to spend my hard-earned money on things like cat litter and squeaky toys when he’s the real responsible party?

Before I can say anything he gives me a grin so deep it reveals a pair of dimples I’ve never noticed before. His little brother has them and he uses them indiscriminately to get what he wants. I have a feeling Declan doesn’t flash his around as easily. “Excellent,” he says, holding my gaze for a moment longer before he takes my cat and the cart full of shit and walks away.