Jagged Edge

And then I do and no, this can’t be right. I didn’t hear him correctly. Right? “The whole night?”

“Yeah. If this is what it will take to keep you off the streets and those men. I know you need the money for Simon Gomez. You won’t tell me why, but that’s all right. Just tell me you want to sleep here.”

I force myself to look up at his face, see if he’s serious or if he’s shitting me. I’ll be honest. I’ve had all sorts of offers in my life on the streets, but I can’t remember any guy asking me this.

And he looks serious, his handsome face drawn in tight but earnest lines.

“You can’t afford it,” I make myself say, and the words taste of ashes in my mouth. “And I can’t afford not to get paid.” Especially since I won’t be receiving any money from Ocean and Jesse Lee anymore.

I’m on my own in this fight. A small slip, and I lose, and those I care for are done for. I can’t afford a night here. I can’t afford any mistakes.

It’s not Raine who can’t afford me. It’s me who has to stop being selfish and step away.

So I do. “I have to go.”

His face twists. “I’m not a rich guy, but I’d do anything to keep you safe, Jason.”

My throat closes—with emotion, with happiness. With fear. “You can’t. Okay? Don’t try.”

I open the door and step outside before I break down and accept his offer, before I say to hell with it and stay for free. For him.

For myself.

Still, I’m half-blind as I take the elevator down and walk out of the building into the biting cold, my eyes blurry. The fuck.

At least it’s not raining, although tiny white dots speckle the air. Snow.

I cross the street and start walking down the block, then open my stride, more to warm up than with the need to get far from Raine.

My breathing gets funny thinking about him, about not seeing him again. Not talking to him. Not leaning into his embrace.

Swallowing hard, I head toward my territory—Simon’s territory—letting the rhythm of my steps soothe me. I’ll survive without Raine. It’s ridiculous I even have to tell myself that. Of course I will. I never had anyone like him in my life.

Which makes the lump in my throat bigger, and I have to stop and catch my breath.

Fucking ridiculous.

I wipe at my nose with the back of my hand, then brace one arm on a wall beside a gutter and look up at the dark sky and the snowflakes twirling. Cold. My hand is getting numb so I jam it back into my pocket, and I finger the wad of money Raine gave me.

Huh. It feels like there’s something hard rolled up in the bills. Frowning, I pull the wad out and unroll it carefully, silencing the string of what-the-fuck running on a loop through my head. I lay the bills out on my palm, and inside I find a key.

A small shiny key that has no business being there.

I hear Raine’s voice in my memory. “This sofa has your name on it. Stay here for as long as you want. I’ll give you my spare key.” And then, “You’re worth it.”

His spare key.

My pulse roaring in my ears, I lift the key in the light of the streetlamp, stare at it. It feels heavier than it has any right to be on my palm, like it contains a whole world in it. It’s as if it’s key not just to Raine’s apartment but to something more.

Figures I’d read more into it. Typical. Which is why this is so dangerous—to my soul, to my mind, to my sense of self-preservation.

Because let’s face it. He’s breaking me. Ruining me for anyone else, and for my own shitty life.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Raine

“Tell me what happened, junior,” Ocean says for the hundredth fucking time. “Come on, put us both out of our misery. Tell your big brother who broke your heart.”