“Things went to hell before that.” I draw a breath and find myself trembling, so I pull away my hands and let them fall on my thighs. “On the way, I met Jason. He’s a hooker, still works the streets. He’s the one who fou
nd me that night when I was attacked, three years ago.”
“The night you got the scars?”
I find myself scratching at them unconsciously, and make myself stop. “Yeah. Jason has been on my case since then to report what happened to the police. I refused. Guy who cut me up is a gang leader. He’ll have my head on a spike if he finds out.”
She pales as she bows her head, taking this in. “I understand.”
Not fucking likely, not without knowing the whole story, and fuck if I’m ever telling her.
“Yeah, well. Jason insisted I should report the guy, said he’s been harassing everyone in the neighborhood. Harassing people I know, that I lived side by side with.” I heave a breath that seems stuck in my chest. “Jason was right. The guy attacked another homeless boy early this morning, cut him up. Kyle is his name. He’s at the fucking hospital. I don’t know the boy, but if I had reported the sicko back then, if I had done something… this wouldn’t have happened. Fuck, this is on me.”
A screech alerts me to the fact she’s pushed back her chair. I look up to see her walk around the table. She kneels at my feet. I have no clue what she’s doing, not even when she takes my hands in hers and squeezes.
“And then what happened?” she asks softly, so softly that I have to tell her, have to keep talking, because for once in my life someone is paying attention. Yeah, Zane and Rafe and the guys asked me some questions, but they mostly let me be, and I was grateful.
But now it’s not enough. Not anymore. I need… someone to know, to understand. I need Amber to understand. It’s never been so important to me before.
I want to wrap myself in her and just be.
“Then I returned to the apartment. I went to get my bottle of brandy, and it was fucking gone. Fucking roommates.”
“They took it?”
“Assholes.” What a clusterfuck. I can’t look at her, too raw, too pissed. Tonight of all nights… “They can’t respect my stuff. It’s not the first time. Just because they have money and can buy more of whatever they feel like at any moment doesn’t mean I can, too. Fuckers.” I realize I’m shaking again, and I don’t know why. “I punched Gage, and he gave as good as he got, then Travis got between us. Sorry, Embers. I’m just…”
I shake my head, unable to explain anything, and turn my baseball cap around, hiding my face in the shadow of the brim.
She squeezes my hands again and I force myself to lift my head and meet her eyes. She doesn’t look upset by my cursing and strange mood. She only looks… thoughtful.
“Come with me,” she says and gets to her feet, pulling on my hands until I get up and follow her. She leads me out of the kitchen and into the empty living room. My feet drag, heavy as stones. I’m suddenly so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open as she tugs me to the sofa and pushes me down on it.
I land with an oof on the lumpy cushions. “Decided to satisfy your burning curiosity after all?”
“Curiosity?” She doesn’t join me on the sofa, which should be a big fat hint she isn’t really interested, but I’m too tired to care and to stop my mouth from spewing words.
“About the size of my dick.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt you are a big dick.” She shakes her head. She’s a quick study, this girl. “Stay here.”
I open my mouth to ask where she’s going, then openly stare at her pretty ass encased in a mini-mini jeans skirt as she leaves the room.
She returns, holding a bottle in her hands.
A bottle of brandy.
This time she does climb onto the sofa next to me, curls by my side like a cat, tucking her feet under her, and unscrews the top of the bottle. She raises it toward me, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that resonates inside me, because my heart hammers against my ribs.
“To Helen,” she whispers, and I take the brandy bottle blindly from her hand.
Saluting her, I take a long swig straight from the bottle to drown whatever it is that’s welling inside me. It feels like a tidal wave that’s gonna pull me under.
“To Helen,” I say.
Thank you for saving me when I had nobody. I won’t forget you.
“Do you have to work early tomorrow?” She’s curled under my arm, just like a kitten, big blue eyes staring up at me. The brandy bottle has ended up half-empty, and I’m clutching it at my other side.