Effie was wide-eyed without a whit of makeup when he picked her up in the parking lot.

For a moment, as he pulled up in the Jeep, he felt like they were teenagers again. He’d driven a Jeep in high school and Effie still looked the same as she climbed into the bucket seat with those long legs wrapped in tight denim.

“I feel so old school,” she said as she held up the flip phone. “It’s all they had that I could get working right away.”

“Fancy,” he said.

“It’s kind of nice,” she said as she examined the phone. “No apps, no internet, just calls and texts. I had to change my number,” she said quietly. “I… I don’t know if my mom has tried to call me.”

“Does she call a lot?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“No,” she said quietly. “I was just saying. I don’t know anyone’s numbers. I just put in my mom’s, Renee’s, and the cabin number.”

“It’s okay,” he said.

King had to admit that it seemed a bit extreme, but Thorne had completely flown off the rails. He had no idea what his brother might be capable of.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked. “Where are we going?”

“To the cabin for a minute,” he said.

She raised her brow at him. “Seriously?”

“Not for that,” he said quickly. “I mean, not that I don’t want to but—I just have to get some things. I rushed out of there without really thinking.”

“Okay, and then?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “I think maybe we should just check into a hotel for awhile and figure things out. Somewhere Thorne won’t be able to find. He’s already been to my place, I got an alert from the security company.”

“He broke in?” she gasped.

“No, just ringing the bell non-stop. It was enough to make the system throw up a flag, though.”

“Thank God he doesn’t have a key,” she said as she explored her new, simple phone.

“Yeah, well. We were never close enough for that.”

King angled the Jeep towards the dirt trail that led to the cabin. It seemed like so long ago that he’d taken this same route to escape everything.

He hadn’t wanted anyone to know where he was. A few days alone in the cabin had seemed like the perfect place to disappear, especially with the threat of snow all over the Chicago area. At the time, the Uber driver had looked at him curiously as he’d dropped him off.

“You might get stuck up here,” the driver warned. “It’s supposed to really come down.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” he’d told her as he stepped out with bags of groceries and a duffel bag with a few supplies.

Now, returning here with Effie, he had a purpose. It was nice to have someone to take care of. King never thought it would appeal to him, but there they were. He killed the engine and looked at her.

“I’ll just take a couple minutes,” he said. “Then I think we need to go see your mom and grandmother before we get a hotel.”

“What? Why?” she asked, suddenly on edge.

“Listen, I don’t know what Thorne’s going to do—or not do,” he said. “But if he’s tracked you to his place and threatening your family, we at least need to make sure they’re okay.”

“You’re right,” she said. “God, this is going to be awkward. How am I going to explain—”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” he said. King leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I promise.”

“Fine,” she said. “You’ll just be a few minutes? I’ll stay here.”

“No, you’re coming with me.”

“King—”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight until all this is over.”

He shoved what he could into a gym bag as Effie paced in the hallway. “I’m going to miss this place,” she said with a tired smile when he appeared with the heavy bag slung over his shoulder.

“We can always come back.”

“That’s what people always say when it’s the last time.”

In the Jeep en route to her family’s home, King didn’t have to ask for directions. He was coming from a different area and it had been years, but he’d driven to her old home so often it was burned into his cortex.

The poverty-stricken part of town was even worse than he remembered. Effie scrolled through the radio stations and settled on the Oldies. The Supremes belted “You Can’t Hurry Love” out of the speaker. He stole a glance at her, but Effie gazed out the window, lost in the music.

They pulled up alongside the rickety white stucco house. It was nearly falling apart, but Effie didn’t seem to notice. Weeds were overgrown and the driveway was empty.

“Nobody home?” King asked, but Effie shook her head.

“Yaya probably is.”

Effie opened the unlocked door while King widened his eyes at the lack of security.

“Yaya?” Effie called.

They heard a bang from the back room. He followed closely at Effie’s heels to the laundry room. King didn’t have time to take in the full state of the house. They found Yaya on the floor, scrubbing stubbornly at a spot.

“Yaya, stop!” Effie said. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of that.”

“King!” Yaya said when she looked up.

Her hair was whiter and she was less adept at the lipstick, but otherwise she looked the same to him—and unsurprised to see him.

Effie helped her grandmother off the floor. He watched as she squeezed Effie tight before she moved to him. “When are you kids getting married again?”

“Sorry?” King asked.

“The wedding!” she said. “I always forget.”

“Sorry,” Effie mouthed to him as she hooked her elbow through her grandmother’s.

“Oh, soon,” King said. The old woman patted his forearm.

“Where’s Mom?” Effie asked.

Yaya looked at her, confused.

“Come on, let’s get you into the living room and rest,” Effie said. Effie scanned the room as King helped her grandmother sit. “She’s not here,” Effie said. “Maybe we need to take Yaya with us.”

King opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Her family really did always come first, and that wasn’t changing. He jumped as the front door flew open and her mom rushed in with arms full of shopping bags. He saw Cartier, Tiffany and Gucci, all of which were wildly out of place in the falling-apart house.

“Hi, Mom,” Effie said dutifully, voice on edge. “What’s with all the bags?”

Clem looked thinner than he remembered, a spray of new wrinkles across her face.

“Thorne bought them for me,” she said defensively. Her eyes moved to King and her face hardened even more. “What the fuck are you doing in my house? Effie, what the hell is this?”

Effie pulled herself up to her full height. “Mom, stop.”

“Effie, I swear to God—you’re marrying Thorne, and that’s that. I promised Thorne, and—”

“That’s not going to happen now. And you promised Thorne?” Effie eyed the bags. “I’m guessing recently.”

“You little slut,” Clem hissed. “Yes, it was recently. And Thorne filled me in on your little escapade. I’ll have you know I don’t approve. At all.”

“Clementine—” Yaya started, but Clem held up her hand. Effie patted Yaya’s shoulder and stood in front of her grandmother to block her from Clem’s rage.

“Effie, I’m too tired to listen to your bullshit. Why am I tired, you ask? I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve been taking care of Yaya, doing your fucking job, for a week now. You owe me for that, you little bitch, and I’m ready to be repaid. Right now.” Clem held out her hand and snapped her fingers.

Effie widened her eyes and shook her head in shock.

“Effie, go pack your grandmother’s suitcase,” King said.

Effie looked at him, but King just motioned her to be quick about it. Effie rushed off while Yaya followed her.

“Are we going on a trip?” Yaya called, delighted.

King stood off against Clem in the living room. She glared at him, hands on her hips.

“I never fucking liked you,” she hissed at him.

“Well, I’m not really worried about that,” he said. “Keep on hating me.”

Clem sneered at him, turned on her heel and stormed off.

Jesus, why does she hate me so much? That wasn’t the case when they were teenagers, at least he didn’t think so. And why is she so smitten with Thorne?

It stung, but he had other things to worry about now.

Effie appeared in the doorway, one arm hooked through Yaya’s and a small, battered suitcase in the other. King took her grandmother’s arm while Effie rushed through the front door.

“I’m so happy you two are finally getting married,” Yaya said.

“Me, too,” King replied. There was no point in correcting her. Besides, it might make the whole thing easier.

Effie climbed into the back seat with the suitcase while King helped her grandmother into the passenger seat. He had to lift her small body up while she clung to his neck.

“We can’t go to a hotel now,” he told her.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t want any of us sleeping in separate areas, and… I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but I’m not sharing a bed with you with your grandmother right beside us.”

“Oh, right.” She said. “Crap.”

“Effie, language!” Yaya cried, but she didn’t seem particularly upset.

King grit his teeth. “It’s okay. I know somewhere we can go. Somewhere he’ll never find us.”

As they drove out of the neighborhood, he couldn’t stop thinking about how his brother had raised his hand to Effie. In that moment, he could have killed him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how Effie had cried afterward, like she really believed everything Thorne had said about her. It killed him that she could think Thorne was right.

Effie looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure my car will be okay in that parking lot?”

King sighed. “Yeah. If not, I’ll get it out of wherever it’s towed.” It was a nice car, way too nice for a vet tech’s salary. Thorne had clearly financed it, which meant he’d probably had a tracker installed, too.

It was too fancy of a car for King, too. He made good money, but if Effie was used to Thorne-level money, there’s no way he could keep up. King shook his head.

What the hell are you saying? She’s still the same girl that wrecked you.

When she’d turned him down and he left town, he’d really gone off the deep end himself. When he was working as a fixer in L.A., he still remembered the night he’d beat a man within an inch of his life.

Nights going up against the Mexican mob with just a gun, or the evening in that old fallout shelter with a mob boss who stroked a moustache like a movie villain, there was a part of it all that terrified King.

There was also a part that drew him close. Getting close to Effie meant big stakes. If he lost, he didn’t know if he’d have the strength to move on again.

There was a time, not that long ago, that King thought about killing himself. He’d talked himself into thinking everyone would be better for it. After all, it’s not like he contributed anything to anyone. All he did was take, embarrass his family, and fuck up over and over.

You can’t take her down with you.

King took a familiar exit and watched Effie chew at her lip in the mirror.

No long-term planning this time, he told himself.

All he had to do was take care of Effie until Thorne moved on. Well, Effie and her grandmother. Surely it wouldn’t take long.

His brother got bored easily. As soon as his wounds were thoroughly licked, Thorne would be on to the next conquest.

Easier said than done, he thought. He looked at Effie, who sat curled up in silence. What are you thinking about?

Another song by the Supremes came on the radio and Yaya lit up beside him.

“Oh, I just love Diana Ross,” she said. “Effie, dear, you should use a Diana Ross song in your wedding.”

“I will, Yaya,” Effie said dutifully.

King gripped the steering wheel. He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d gone to Effie’s house. Maybe that time had stood still.

He tried to recall if there were any hints of her mom’s hatred of him back in the day, but there was nothing. She’d never been particularly loving, but had seemed indifferent to him.

“My mom doesn’t have my new number,” she said suddenly from the backseat.

“It’s probably for the best. It seems like she’s pretty tight with my brother, so I’m not too worried about her.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I can’t believe they’re working together.”

“He’ll get bored soon enough,” he promised.

“Maybe.” Suddenly Effie shifted in her seat. “King? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he promised, and left it at that.