“I’ll explain when you get here,” Max answered. “I need you at the shop in twenty, okay?”

Carter rubbed his forehead. This wasn’t good. “Sure,” he replied and hung up. He stood to retrieve his boxer briefs and jeans from the floor.

Kat’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “You’re going out?”

“Yeah.” He began to fasten his belt. “I shouldn’t be long, though. Max needs me for something.”

Apprehension crossed Kat’s face. “Something,” she repeated quietly. “Something … illegal?”

“No,” he said, going over to her. “I’ll be right back.”

She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Please … He’s not— What’re you … You know what? It doesn’t matter.” Kat tried to smile. “You’ll be careful, though, right?”

Since Carter had finally admitted to Kat about his doing time at Kill for his best friend, and Max’s ever-worsening drug addiction, she was always anxious when Max’s name was mentioned or when he called. She would never admit it, but he knew she worried that Max would land his ass back in jail. Truthfully, he worried about the same thing.

Occasionally, Kat would drop subtle hints about Carter working at a different body shop, or stopping working altogether now that his name was firmly back on the WCS shareholders list, so that he was away from any threat to his parole. At first, her concern had riled him and caused many a heated debate. Now? He understood where her fear came from. She was petrified of losing him, just as he was of losing her. She loved him and wanted to protect him and keep him safe.

Carter tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I would never jeopardize what we have, baby.” He kissed her. “I’ll text you when I’m there, okay?” He kissed her again, his mouth lingering on hers.

“Okay.”

* * *

Carter left Kala standing by the shop door, texted Kat, and then lit a smoke. He surveyed his surroundings instinctively, watching for anyone who appeared suspect. Once he was sure there was no one near, he disappeared inside the shop.

With every step, his palms got sweatier, and his conscience spoke louder. Bad idea, it said. Yeah. No shit.

He found Max in his office, looking disheveled and sleep-deprived. His clothes were creased, his face unshaven, and his dark eyes were encircled by even darker lines. He, too, was smoking. The cigarette dangled from his lips while he cut a line of coke on the desk with a credit card that was no doubt maxed out. Despairing, Carter pushed his hands into his jacket pockets while Max snorted the line through a rolled-up twenty. He sat back, coughed, and rubbed his nostrils before standing and holding his fist for Carter to bump.

“Thanks for coming, man,” he sniped when their knuckles finally touched. “I wondered whether I could pull you away from banging your precious tutor.”

Same shit, different day.

“I’ve told you before,” Carter replied sharply. “We’re not ‘banging.’ ”

Max gave a derisive laugh. “Ah yes. You love each other. That shit’s a thing for you now.”

Carter ignored his goading and the bitterness in his words. “What the hell am I doing here?”

“I got a tip from a guy I know,” Max explained. “The fuckers who jumped me at the club: they’re doing a deal tonight.”

Carter lifted his shoulders. “So?”

Max’s eyes flashed furiously. “The deal should have gone to me. Thirty thousand cash. That shit will clear my debts. I’ve called Paul; he’s going to meet us there.”

“Meet us where?”

“At the deal.” Max’s face turned malicious. “We’re gonna show them not to fuck with me.”

Carter’s blood ran cold. “And how are ‘we’ gonna do that?”

Max gave a chilling smile. “I won’t be pushed to the side. I used to run this fucking bitch. I either want in on their deals, or they need to learn some respect.”

Carter blanched. “The hell are you thinking? Fuck, Max. This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard! And what if they say no to your proposal, huh? What are you gonna do, make them?”

Max scoffed. “Don’t get all fucking virtuous on me, Carter. I’m barely keeping the shop afloat. I owe too much! I can’t do anything else, man.”

“I’ve told you,” Carter replied in exasperation. “Let me help you. I’ll give you the money.”

Max shook his head. “No.”

“There’s gotta be a better way than this,” Carter pleaded. “Who’s this tip from, anyway? How do you know this guy isn’t gonna snitch? We could turn up at the meet and be faced with fifteen motherfuckers baying for blood. Look at what happened last time you fucked with these assholes.”

“The dude’s cool. He won’t rat,” Max placated him. “It’s fine. Trust me.”

Carter opened his mouth to argue, but realized there was little point. His trust in his friend was at an all-time low, and Max was as stubborn as he was. Add in the coke, and the bastard was impossible to dissuade. There was no reasoning, no coercing. He’d made his decision, and damn the consequences.

His cell vibrated, and he knew who it was before he even looked at the screen.

Wake me when you get back. Be safe. X

With fear gripping his heart like a vise in his chest, he pushed his cell back into his jeans. “So what am I here for?” he asked quietly.

“You’re the only person I trust to watch my back.”

Carter snorted. “Lucky me. This is a mess, dude. Are you sure there’s no other way?”

Ignoring Carter’s question, Max moved around him and approached the wall safe hidden behind a picture of a Shelby GT. Once opened, Max reached in and pulled out two Glocks. He held out the first to Carter.

Carter’s hesitation had Max’s brow furrowing.

“I’m on parole,” Carter said slowly. “If I’m caught— What the fuck do you think I can do with that?”

“You don’t have to use the fucking thing,” Max snapped. “Take it.”

With a deep breath, Carter took the gun, thankful that he was wearing gloves. Ordinarily, it would have felt good. Guns always made him feel strong and undefeatable. Now the metal felt alien and dangerous in his hand.

He swallowed.

Now, he realized, he had Kat to help him feel strong. She made him feel greater than any gun, any drug, any boost, any deal. She gave him more strength than he’d ever thought possible. With her, he was truly invulnerable.

Holding the Glock in his palm and with the image in his mind of Kat warm in his bed, waiting for him to return safely, he suddenly understood the crossroads that lay ahead of him.

One road took him home, to his Peaches, his everything. The other took him back to where he’d been for so many miserable years. It was a dark place filled with bad memories, hopelessness, and fear. With Max on coke and holding a gun in his hand, that road took him straight back to Kill, back to being a worthless criminal with no prospects, no respect, and no future, all promises broken, all faith shattered.

It wasn’t a place he ever wanted to go back to. He’d worked too damned hard to get to where he was now, and he couldn’t give it all up. He couldn’t give up his Peaches. She was all that mattered.

Max dropped a large bag heavily onto the desk and started to retrieve all manner of weapons from its depths.

“I can’t,” Carter said quietly, snapping Max’s head up from the large knife in his hand.

“What?”

Carter shook his head and placed the gun next to the bag. “I can’t do this.”

Max’s face was baffled. “What are you talking about?”

Carter gestured to the gun. “This isn’t me anymore, man.”

Max’s eyes flashed in disbelief. “The fuck? I need you here.”

“You don’t, Max,” Carter implored. “Look, I can give you the money. You don’t need to do this shit. You don’t need guns and coke. I’ve told you—”

“I’m not a fucking charity case! I don’t want your money!” Max bellowed. “Why don’t you understand?”

Incredulous, Carter ground his teeth. “Okay. Why don’t you explain it to me? Let’s get this shit out there.”