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  “All right. Give me a minute to clean up the kitchen and I’ll take you. Like I said, I bought you some stuff to get by for a few days, so you can grab that and get ready.”

  She gave me a look that I swore was colored with disappointment, but then she just nodded and turned on her heel.

  “Cool. I’ll help you clean up.”

  I watched her walk away. Somewhere in the part of my chest that I had long thought was an empty and hollow cavern, I felt a twist and a wrenching feeling that her walking away was something that I needed to get good with her doing . . . more for her sake than my own.

  CHAPTER 8

  Dovie

  I DON’T KNOW WHAT I had been doing with Billy Clark all those years ago or with that loser from the restaurant, but it hadn’t been anywhere near the same level of what I had just done with Bax. I knew that sex was just a thing to him, a way to find instant gratification, a way to intimidate and control, but to me it was something different. I felt like I had a part of him inside me, burning, twisting, and throbbing in time with my heartbeat. I could feel the heavy weight of his dark gaze as he watched me out of the corner of his eye as he sped through town toward the group home. I didn’t know if he was waiting for me to freak out, demand an apology, or something else dramatic and probably more appropriate, but he was going to be out of luck, because all I really wanted to do was be back on the counter with all his intensity and focus centered on me. He was scary hot, and having him that close, being that intimate with him, was terrifyingly encompassing.

  When he was nice . . . well, as nice as a guy like him could be, it was unnerving and I wasn’t sure what to do with him. When he was unhinged, angry, and all silent and broody, that’s when I knew to watch my step, keep my guard up, and prepare to do battle with him. I wasn’t sure what this new development between us meant, but I did know I had never felt as worshiped, as appreciated, as I had after he was done with me. I wasn’t anything particularly special in the looks department, but after that interlude on the counter with his midnight eyes picking me apart and putting me back together, I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Or at least in the Point.

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and fiddled with the long ends of the sleeves of his shirt I still had on, bloodstains and all. I couldn’t explain why I didn’t want to give it up, but luckily, he hadn’t asked for it back.

  “So Monday?”

  These were the first words spoken since we got in the car.

  I nodded absently. “Yeah. I stay tonight, work the entire day tomorrow, and stay tomorrow night. I love it. Those kids were all me at one point in time. I really want to get a degree in counseling so I can help kids like us, kids that had shitty parents, a crap upbringing, transition into foster care and adoptive homes. More often than not, they think they have all the answers and are unwilling to adapt. That’s the curse of the streets, I guess. Kids grow up too fast.”

  He just grunted, but from the limited info I got from him so far, I knew it was true in his case as well. No kid just woke up one morning and decided they were going to be a car thief because it sounded fun.

  “So your brother—” I was cut off when he turned to look at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Half brother.”

  “Uh . . . half brother . . . he doesn’t help you with your mom at all? Does he know about the house?”

  I saw his jaw clench and a muscle start to tick. Too bad. He had seen me naked—been inside me—and that, at the very least, entitled me to a few hard questions.

  “Titus has always been very rigid, very black and white on what equals good and bad. His dad was a major drug supplier, he got locked up when Titus was just a little kid. He never got over it. He wanted the perfect family, mom and dad who loved each other, no addictions, no troubles, and when he couldn’t get that in the Point, he wrote us off and found a new family. He doesn’t care about Mom because she doesn’t care about herself. And with me”—he sliced me a look that made me shiver—“he proved how much being my brother meant when he hauled me in.”

  I cleared my throat and turned my attention back to the windshield. “It’s not like he had a choice. You’re a criminal, he’s a cop.”

  “There’s always a choice, Copper-Top. Sometimes it takes balls to make the wrong one and deal with the fallout, but there is always a choice.”

  I didn’t have an answer for that, so I just twirled a curl loosely around my finger and rode in silence until the house came into view. It was right in the center of the Point, run-down, bars on the windows, a sad-looking playground set out front. It didn’t look like much, but the love that was on the inside made it the most beautiful place I had ever been in my life. I turned to tell him thanks for the ride, to ask when I would hear from him, but he was out of the car and pulling my door open before I could.

  I blinked as he offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. I saw all the curious faces of the kids inside filling the dirty windows, but it didn’t matter. When he bent his head and sealed his mouth over mine, I drifted into him and let him take what he wanted. It was getting to be a dangerous habit, one that, if I didn’t get a handle on it, was going to leave me with nothing left of myself. He rubbed his tongue along the curve of my bottom lip and lifted his head, leaving me breathless and dazed.

  “I’ll come get you Monday.”

  I started to nod absently as he handed me the small bag that had my meager belongings in it. I shook my head to clear the haze of desire he kicked up just by being close, and put a hand on his forearm.

  “No.”

  He lifted a dark eyebrow at me.

  “I mean, I have school Monday night. I don’t get out of class until ten.”

  He didn’t like that. I could tell by the downturn of his mouth and the way the shadows moved in his eyes. He shook off my hand and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up around his face. I decided I hated it when he did that. It was like he was pulling armor into place and there was no Shane, only Bax.

  “Call me when you get around to it, I guess.”

  Something cold shafted down my spine and I bit my lip as he worked his way back to his side of the car. I tilted my head to the side.

  “Bax?”

  He paused before climbing back into the car and looked at me. All I could see was my nervous and unsure face reflected back at me out of those dark orbs.

  “No Roxie or Honor this weekend, promise?”

  It was a question, because really, what did I expect from him? It wasn’t like he was some kind of paragon of virtue and honesty. We stared at each other over the roof of the car for a long moment before he dipped his chin down.

  “Call me.”

  I gulped a little and nodded as I stepped up on the curb as he blazed away from me. I let out a pent-up breath and wondered if I would survive dealing with him long enough to find Race. It was like handling a grenade with a loose pin. I wanted to zig and every time I did, he managed to zag. It was exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.

  When I pushed through the front door, I was immediately surrounded by little bodies. The teenagers were too cool to show any outward excitement that I was there, but I could see the questions brimming in their eyes. Bax was hard to miss, and it was well known I didn’t date or make time for a love life, so I’m sure everyone wanted to know who he was and why I had arrived to work in his badass car when I typically took the bus in.

  I maneuvered my way through the bodies and the barrage of questions to get to the kitchen, where Reeve Black was working on making the kids dinner. There were a total of twelve of them, ranging in ages five to sixteen, so it was no simple task, and she looked harried.

  “Need a hand?” She jumped a little at the sound of my voice.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here. Lindsey and Blake were helping but then everyone bolted because of someone at the front of the house. All I heard was ‘sweet ride’ and ‘hot guy’ . . . blah blah blah, you know how teenagers are.”

  Reeve was a few years old
er than me. I didn’t know her whole story, but I think the bones of it were similar to mine. I didn’t know why she was as devoted to these kids as she was, but she was the heart and soul of this house. She also looked like she could make a fortune being a bikini model or some rich guy’s mistress, so I always wondered what she was doing slumming it with the rest of us average folks, but I never felt like it was my place to ask. Frankly she intimidated me with her long black hair and unwavering cobalt gaze. I think she saw more than she ever let on, and all I wanted to do was hide, so I tried to keep things between us totally professional.

  “I got a ride in to work today. He does have a sweet ride and he is wicked hot in a very dangerous kind of way. They were right.” I put my stuff on the long dining table and started to roll up the sleeves of my confiscated shirt. “Put me to work. What do you need me to do?”

  She handed me a pile of potatoes and told me to get peeling and scrubbing.

  “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

  She said it casually, but I heard the question in her voice.

  “I’m not. He’s a friend of Race’s. We’re both just worried about him and want to find him.”

  “Oh. You never mentioned being close with any of your brother’s friends before.”

  I never mentioned much of anything before, so I looked at her curiously. “I’m not. Bax is different. He and Race grew up together. He might be the only one who can get him out of this trouble he seems to have cooked up for himself.”

  I jumped and looked up as the ladle she was stirring the sauce with clattered to the floor. I frowned and tossed her a towel.

  “You okay?”

  She muttered something under her breath and bent down to clean up the mess she had just made.

  “Shane Baxter? You’re running around with Shane Baxter?”

  I cocked my head in surprise and just continued to look at her. “‘Running around’ isn’t exactly what I would call it, but yeah, Bax and Race go way back. Why? Do you know him?”

  She swore under her breath and moved off to the fridge, when a couple of the kids wandered in looking for juice. I thought maybe she was going to drop it when she walked over to the sink and took me by my shoulders so I was facing her. Her blue eyes were intent and so serious, I suddenly had a hard time swallowing.

  “I know where you lived before here was no picnic, that you understand how places like the Point run, but at heart you are a good girl, a really sweet young woman with goals and aspirations that I admire. Do not”—she gave me a little shake that had my teeth rattling together—“let a guy that is poison like Shane Baxter anywhere near you. He will destroy anything and everything you have ever loved and will enjoy every second of it.”

  I couldn’t formulate a response to that. Besides, it was already too late. If he was poison, I was beyond infected with it.

  “What did he do to you, Reeve?”

  She shook her dark head.

  “Nothing, I don’t even know him, but I know of him, and I think that’s worse. His reputation is awful, Dovie. He steals, he fights, he hurts people, and everyone knows the only reason he didn’t get busted for murder was because his brother is a cop. Come on, Dovie, you really think Race is hiding from Novak? Isn’t it more likely he’s hiding from the guy he helped put away? Shane Baxter is bad news, and all you’re asking for hanging out with him is trouble with a capital T.”

  She was partially right. Bax was nothing but bad news, but Shane . . . well, Shane could be sweet, thoughtful, and there was more going on with him than met the eye. Bax didn’t hold me when I couldn’t sleep, Bax didn’t grab me clothes, even though I was being a brat, and Bax wasn’t the guy I let touch and stroke me into mindless oblivion. That was all Shane. Too bad he inhabited the same body, because without his alter ego, Shane was a pretty great guy. But I wasn’t delusional enough to think he was all one or the other, I knew he was a complicated mix of both Shane and Bax, and there was no having one without tolerating the other.

  I kept quiet and helped her finish dinner. We wrangled the kids together for an after-dinner movie and then fed them a healthy dessert before wrestling them all into bed. I had to explain no less than ten times that Bax was just a friend and that his car was not mine to ask for rides in. I also valiantly tried to explain to teenage girls that guys like Bax were not what they should be looking for, gorgeous or not. I don’t think I sold it very convincingly because really, who was I to talk about rational reactions to a guy that bled heartbreak and sorrow from every pore when they had seen him kissing the life out of me hours ago.

  It was pretty late by the time we had the house settled and got everything cleaned up. It was my preferred way to spend the weekend; at least it used to be. When I lay down in one of the institutional little beds all the staff shared, I couldn’t help but wonder how my time would have been spent if I had still been at the little bungalow at the base of the Hill. Right on the tail end of that, I wondered if Bax would really keep it in his pants over the weekend. He didn’t owe me anything. It wasn’t like we were dating, or even really friends, and all I had to go on was his word, which was worth absolutely nothing. I couldn’t tell if that made me sadder for him or for myself.

  I was staring at the darkened ceiling, wondering exactly how I got myself into this mess in the first place. I silently cursed my brother and whatever his motivation had been for setting this entire thing in motion, when the soft ping of my phone sounded. I glanced at the other bed in the room where Reeve was out cold and slid my legs silently off the edge of the bed. We had to do a bed check every hour, and we typically rotated on and off, and since this was my hour anyway, I figured I would kill two birds and check the message while I checked on the kids.

  The little kids were all down for the count. The teenagers . . . well, they were teenagers and it was easy to tell they were faking being asleep, but since they were in the room and not out roaming the streets, I let it slide. I went out onto the front porch and clicked open the text messaging on my phone.

  You have a good night?

  I wasn’t expecting to hear from him until Monday, and by then I wasn’t sure I was going to want to talk to him. I felt like space away from him gave me some kind of breathing room to escape the Bax force field that surrounded him. Blowing out a breath, I sent my hair flying over my forehead.

  It was alright. How about you?

  It took a minute to get a response, not that I even really expected one. It was Saturday night, and he was wild at his best. I didn’t even want to think about what kind of shit he could stir up. It made my skin crawl and made me wonder how I had ever thought I could handle him. I was an amateur and he was a pro all the way.

  Hit up some places. Asked some more questions. Race was asking about some rich guy doing business with Novak. I think I need to find out who the rich guy is. That might be the key to the whole thing.

  Where are you at?

  I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t my business and I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer. I was right.

  The District.

  I bit my bottom lip and stared at the glowing screen of my phone. He had spent time in the District before me, and undoubtedly he would be right back there after me. I hated that I cared one way or another. While I contemplated what to say back, like he could sense my unease across the space that separated us, he sent me:

  I’m headed back to my mom’s place. I went by my place in the city to grab some stuff. I told you I would be good.

  I don’t think you know how.

  Really? I thought I just showed you how good I can be. I guess I’ll have to step it up next time.

  I snorted out a laugh and silently thought that if he stepped it up any more, I wouldn’t be able to walk. I had bruises on the outside of my thighs, hickeys chasing across my chest, and there were twinges in muscles I didn’t even really know I had until he had gotten ahold of me. Like they were mocking me, those checkered flags flashed across my mind, and I suddenly felt a little warm.
I pushed my hair off my face and blew out a breath.

  Thank you.

  It was all I could think to say. I wanted to trust that he was being good, more because he wanted to than because I asked him to, but whatever the reason, I was grateful.

  I get the feeling that you won’t let me put my hands on you if I put them on someone else. Right now that doesn’t work for me and I want my hands on you as often as you’ll let me put them there.

  Well, hell, if that didn’t just make all my girl parts get all warm and tingly.

  You scare me, Bax.

  I know.

  That was it. He didn’t send anything else and I spent a half hour wondering what exactly I was going to do when this ended up killing me or more likely making me wish I was dead.

  THE NEXT MORNING THE kids were up early and I was exhausted because I had spent the entire night replaying the last two weeks and every encounter I had had with Bax over and over in my head. I shouldn’t have ever told him I was going to go to bed with him. What was I thinking? Like he needed an in. Like he needed any kind of encouragement. I should have stayed strong, never given in to the temptation and gone to the fight when I knew it was more than likely a setup. When I had asked him to lie to me, to tell me that I would be different than the other girls, it had taken me sideways when instead, he had done the opposite. I might not be important to him, matter to him, but he was honest enough to admit that whatever was brewing between us was significant and different.

  I was getting the kids’ breakfast when one of the teenage girls, Blake, decided to grill me about Bax. She was a pretty girl, her story was sad and broke my heart. Her parents were way worse than mine ever had been, and the things she had seen at only fourteen made me hate the world we lived in. She was a prime candidate for going into a long-term foster situation, if only someone could teach her how to trust. I had talked with her at length, tried to make her understand not all grown-ups were going to sell their kids into prostitution because they owed their dealer money for drugs, but it was like talking to a wall, and frankly, I couldn’t blame her after everything she had endured.