Chloe’s trembling like she can’t control her body.

Shit, I could have killed those guys.

When I was walking out of Pedro’s, I got this weird sense that something was off. I heard a little scuffling around the corner and was tempted to mind my own business, but I couldn’t shake the foreboding in my gut. So I turned back and walked around the side of the store to see two shadows and some poor girl struggling in their grasp.

I hate the fuckers who live in this damn place.

I gritted my teeth, knowing the consequences of brawling, but I couldn’t leave some innocent chick in the hands of two sleazebags. Enzo probably knows them and will pound my ass for getting in the way, but I couldn’t just turn my back on that shit.

With a heavy sigh, I walked over, wondering if I could try talking some sense into them first, maybe bribe them with the money I’d just taken from Pedro.

But then I caught a glimpse of the girl.

I don’t know what made me recognize her voice, but the second she sobbed, “Don’t. Please! Stop!” I knew it was Chloe and something inside of me popped.

Screw talking, I wanted blood.

I sprinted up with my fists at the ready. My punches were fueled with pure fury, and it felt damn good to feel their flesh fold beneath my knuckles.

Running my thumb over the reddened skin, I try to smile at Chloe, hoping to make her feel better.

She’s still scared, probably thinking that I just sent those guys packing so I could have a turn with her.

The thought guts me and I shoot to my feet. Taking a step back, I want to give her space and let her know I’d never disrespect her that way.

I’ve been watching her since the moment she walked into my Biology class two months ago. She was like a vision, appearing through that doorway with her long blonde hair and sweet smile. I knew I’d never have a shot with her, so I didn’t bother attempting to talk to her or even dream that one day I might. She’s way too good for me. Just this afternoon, I found out that she was convinced I didn’t steal that baseball gear. She knew it was a setup, and helped her sister, Maddie, prove it.

No one ever does shit like that for me.

Having Chief Barlow and Principal Sheehan show up on my doorstep last night to invite me back to school was freaking triumphant.

Enzo was damn pissed. He doesn’t want me going to school. He wants me joining the family business with my cousin, Diego. But I refuse to become one of his thugs. I do what I have to do to stay alive, but as soon as I’ve graduated and can figure a way out of this place, I will.

I want to be a good person.

Just like Chloe.

Gazing down at her, my heart expands like it’s taking a full breath. Maybe I was supposed to save her tonight. I owe her for proving my innocence.

Shit, even if I didn’t, I still would have done what I did.

Chloe’s like a delicate pink tulip—perfect petals and pure sweetness.

My stomach convulses as my mind snares me with an image of what would have happened if I hadn’t turned back and checked out that noise. Man, I’m so glad I listened to my gut.

Reaching out my hand, I swallow in an effort to find my voice. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She hesitates for a moment, her wide blue eyes assessing me before she cautiously reaches for my hand. I wrap my fingers around her trembling digits and ease her off the ground. She’s still a shaken mess and as soon as I let her hand go, she wraps her arms around herself and gazes down the alley with wide, fear-filled eyes.

“They’re not going to come back,” I assure her. “I’ll never let them touch you again.”

Her big blue eyes shoot to mine. They’re glistening with the onset of tears and I can feel my heart disintegrating. She’s still pale with shock. I wish there was something I could say to make it better.

“Come on, let’s walk this way.” I tentatively put my hand on her lower back.

She flinches, but I keep my hand in place, slowly guiding her back to the street. Her legs give out for a second and I catch her against me.

“It’s okay,” I whisper again.

Shaking breaths spurt from her nose like she’s trying not to fall apart, and then she finally bobs her head and keeps walking.

I stay close and hear her inhale a full breath as we make it out to the lit sidewalk.

“My phone,” she whispers in a voice so small I can barely hear it.

She’s pointing at the ground behind me and I turn to check, spotting her pink phone cover immediately. I pick it up and wince when I notice the cracked screen.

“Does it still work?” Her voice is gradually getting its strength back.

I give her a closed-mouth smile and turn the device on. After a few seconds, it lights up and I can confidently assure her, “Yeah. Do you want me to call someone for you?”

She stares at me like she hasn’t heard what I’ve said, but then she blinks like she’s trying to force her brain to function.

Licking her bottom lip, she gazes out across the road and murmurs, “Uber.”

My insides curdle with the idea of putting her into a strange car with some driver she doesn’t even know.

Not that she knows me either, but…

“I can give you a ride home.”

Her eyes flick to mine, surprise obvious on her pretty features.

Or maybe it’s fear.

Shit.

I mean, I get it. I’m the scary guy at school, right? The one everyone avoids. I usually like it that way—it makes things easier. But in this moment, I wish I were as fucking normal as everybody else.

Scratching the back of my neck, I attempt a proper smile. It feels weird so I give up and tell it to her straight. “I can understand why you’re not comfortable with that. I just hate the idea of you getting into a car with a complete stranger. If it’s okay, I’ll wait with you until it shows up, and then I’ll follow it back to your place…to make sure you get there safely.”

Her lips are slightly parted, but then they try to rise into a little smile. It doesn’t really work, so she gives up and shocks the hell out of me. “I’ll ride home with you. Thanks.”

“Uh…” I let out a breathy snicker and then start nodding like some jackass. “Okay. Um…my car’s this way.”

I point down the street and she turns that direction, shuffling along with her arms still tightly wrapped around her waist.

It only takes a couple of minutes to walk to my car. It’s a piece of shit that I got after my brother Nick was sent to jail. It’s a rusty blue Camaro, and for the first time in my life, I wish I drove something classy like Holden Carter’s Mustang. Chloe deserves to be driven in a freaking gold-lined carriage; I’m embarrassed that she has to sit in my crap-heap car.

The door creaks when I open it for her, and I wince when she gazes inside and no doubt wonders how the hell she’ll fit in around all the trash.

“Let me just…” I lean in front of her and snatch up as many empty cans and chip bags as I can. Bundling them in my arm, I walk to the trunk and dump it all in there before closing Chloe’s door for her.

Shit, she must think I’m such a freaking slob.

I walk around the car, trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing.

Just get in and drive her home. Make sure she’s safe. That’s all you’ve got to do, man.

Slamming my door shut, I fire up the engine and we rumble away from the curb. I don’t know exactly where she lives, but I’ve got a good idea. I’ll head to Main Street and she can direct me from there.

Chloe sniffs softly beside me. I turn to glance at her. Tears are running down her face. Her mouth bunches and she swallows like she’s trying to hold in a sob.

Oh shit. What do I do?

“Uh…are you hurt?”

She shakes her head and whimpers before buckling forward and mumbling, “I’m fine.”

She is so not fine. I should have killed those shitheads. Dammit, I had it in me.

Thoughts of Nick whistle through my brain, taunting me. I have the right blood running through my veins. But fuck, I don’t want to be like him!

I grip the wheel while Chloe cries beside me. Her slow tears feel like talon scratches on my heart.

Tissue. I need a tissue.

I scan the spaces around me, desperately hoping for something I can give her while trying to keep my eyes on the road.

“Can you drive the long way home, please?”

“W-what?” I glance at her.

“I don’t want to walk in the door crying. They’ll want to know and I can’t…” She presses the back of her hand against her mouth.

Her fingers are still quivering.

“They’ll tell me off for not going home with Rahn when she begged me to. And then I’ll get a lecture about safety and your neighborhood. They’ll say I can never come back here. They’ll stop me from helping at the church.” She slashes at her tears. “I don’t want to be scared off. I love working there.”

Her sweetness squeezes my tattered heart into a ball of putty.

Most people would vow to never set foot in the northwest side again, but she’s crying because she’s worried they won’t let her come back.

She’s sweet…and crazy.

I lick the edge of my mouth and check the road before glancing at her again. “So, you’re, uh…not going to tell your dad about this?”

She shakes her head. “I know what they did was wrong and if they had…” She swallows. “If they’d succeeded, then yeah, I’d tell him, but…” She goes still for a second and her eyes slowly track across to me. “You saved me.”

My lips twitch with a fleeting smile.

I should really say that she needs to tell the police about those guys. I could lecture her on the fact that they might try to hurt someone else. It’s her responsibility to speak up. But her eyes… they’re so full of gratitude right now.

I don’t want to kill that look, so I keep my mouth shut.

I’ll call the cops on my way home and give them an anonymous tip. I didn’t know those guys, but I can give a good description over the phone. Hopefully they’ll get picked up, and then after Chloe’s had a few days to process how she’s feeling, she’ll find the courage to give an official statement.

I grip the wheel as another thought spikes through me.

I could forget about calling the cops and just ask Diego if he’d help me find them. We could make sure they’ll never even want to look at another chick again.

“Take the next left.” Chloe’s soft voice distracts me.

I turn down the correct road and feel my palms start to sweat. I’m such an alien on this side of town. Checking my speed, I make sure I’m cruising as legally as I can be. I don’t want some cop pulling me over. The second they spot me with Chloe’s blotchy face in the passenger seat, they’ll jump to all the wrong conclusions.

Swallowing the boulder in my throat, I quietly follow her directions. She takes us the long way around school, weaving down quiet suburban streets until her tears have dried up completely.

“Can you pull over here?” Chloe points to the corner of a street.

I turn into it, shaking my head. “No, I need to make sure you get home safely.”

“I will.”

“Yeah, because I’m driving you to your door.” My voice peters off as a strong nausea sweeps through me.

Shit, if her dad’s home and he sees my car…

“Just drop me a couple doors down, then.” She touches my arm and I silently vow to never wash my shirt again. “I don’t want my dad making assumptions. He’s really strict on guys and who we date.”

Associating me with the word “date” sends an overpowering longing through me. Hopefully it doesn’t show as I reluctantly pull the car up to the curb and let the engine idle.

“Which house is it?”

“Just up there.” She points three houses down and I see the yellow Camry in the driveway. There’s another car parked on the street outside their house.

“Whose car is that?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe murmurs, gazing at it before reaching for the light between us. Turning to face me, she swipes her hands over her cheeks and asks me, “How bad do I look?”

I can’t tell her what I really want to say—that she’s beautiful and could never look bad even if she tried—so I lick the corner of my mouth and murmur, “You’re still a little pale.”

“Are my eyes red and puffy?” She runs a finger under her lashes. “Does it look like I’ve been crying?”

Without thinking, I brush my thumb across her smooth cheek and smile at her. “You’ll get away with it.”

She pulls in a shaky breath, her expression softening when she smiles at me. “I wish I could walk you in my door and give you all the praise you deserve. I just can’t imagine my dad buying it.”

I grit my teeth and glance out of the windshield. “Yeah, probably best that you don’t mention a Mancini drove you home.”

She cringes, looking embarrassed by the truth.

I wave my hand through the air. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You know, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

“What?”

She smiles, flashing her straight white teeth at me. “It’s Shakespeare.”

“Romeo and Juliet, right?” I whisper, worried I might have it wrong.

She sits back with a surprised laugh. “You know Shakespeare?”

“I go to school too, you know.”

“Sorry, I just…never pegged you for a guy who’d remember lines from a Shakespeare play.”

I snicker, working my jaw to the side to try to hide my embarrassment. What kind of guy remembers Shakespeare, anyway? I’m such an idiot. Tapping my finger on the wheel, I will my brain to think of something intelligent to say, but I’ve got nothing.

“I think Shakespeare is beautiful, even if I don’t always know what he’s saying.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah, me too. A rose by any other name… What does that even mean?”

“Oh, well I do know that one.” She tips her head, causing her long hair to splash over her shoulder. I curl my fingers into a fist, resisting the urge to reach forward and run my hands through it. “It means your name doesn’t matter. Who you are inside is what counts. You could have any name, Vincent, and it won’t change the fact that you were a hero tonight. Others would have walked away, but you didn’t, and I’ll never forget that.”

Leaning across the seat, she pecks my cheek and I suddenly can’t move.

My lungs forget how to inflate and I’m speechless as she gives me one last smile and whispers, “Thank you.”

She gets out of the car and I’m transfixed as she walks to her house. I keep the headlights on her until she turns into her driveway, and then I take a big risk and cruise past her place to make sure she’s safely inside.

I spot her entering the kitchen and quickly accelerate away before anyone looks out the front windows.

My heart is still beating out of time as I race back to my part of town. It’s a weird sensation. It’s not fear. It’s not anger.

It’s something else.

Something foreign.

It’s a feeling that I never want to forget.