“Rattoni.”

“You believed the Rat? That guy’s first baby words were a lie. Ah, man.” Juvante handed me the money. “Hold that. I’ll be right back.” He went inside the house and when he returned, he was packing. If Mama Leena knew he kept that in his room, she’d have his head on a platter. He jerked his head at me. “Rat hangs at the crack house on Manor. C’mon.”

Roman and Clarke made like they were going to go with us and I stopped them. “You idiots stay here before you get us killed.”

***

The closer I drove to the crack house, the more desolate the area became. The poverty, the despondency, was a way of life in some areas of Caldwell. Crime didn’t happen without a purpose here and that purpose was survival. Those who looked down their noses at the young men hustling to make a buck probably never experienced hunger gnawing like a rat at their stomach. Probably never saw tears track down a kid’s face for the same reason. I’d been one of those kids.

I drove past the park with the broken down play equipment, past the pawn shop, and the liquor stores dotting every other corner. Every other spot in the road was a pothole big enough to blow a tire.

“Home sweet home.” Juvante leaned back with a long exhale and his leg jiggled nervously. “Never thought I’d be back in this neighborhood.”

“Me either.” The same ugliness of the streets lived in me and no matter how far away I went I would always carry it in the lessons I’d learned and the scars that I’d earned.

“Memories, man.” He glanced at me. “You get out but they tag along.”

“I know.” I turned down a street that was full of half-vacant houses and parked the Charger in front of the crack house.

From the outside, at a distance, the house didn’t look too bad, but the closer we walked toward it, the uglier it became. The siding was gouged in places and duct tape covered holes in the windows. Before we even reached the front door, the stench from toilets that didn’t work assailed us and I fought the urge to gag.

The front door was half-open. I pushed it all the way open and we walked in. Old magazines and cards were strewn on the floor among dozens of beer cans. Several people in various stages of stupor were lying about with a few more asleep with their faces on the stained carpet. The walls were more holes than actual drywall and rat droppings created a thick coating along the baseboards. On the trash-strewn kitchen counter a half-naked couple made a feeble attempt to have sex but kept missing each other.

“When you’re too stoned to fuck, you’re too stoned,” Juvante muttered, looking disgusted.

I looked over the group until I saw the guy I wanted. Skinny little guy with a nervous twitch at the end of his nose. He had long greasy blond hair slicked back into a ponytail and a meth mouth full of rotted teeth. One arm was wrapped around a girl whose eyes were closed while drool dripped from one corner of her lips.

We shoved our way through the bodies until we reached Rat. He looked up at us and burped. The putrid scent of sour breath and unwashed body greeted us.

“Damn.” Juvante screwed up his face and waved his hand.

Rat’s eyes went wide with recognition and he scrambled to his feet, swaying back and forth. The girl fell over to one side without a sound. “It was a joke man. I didn’t think he’d fall for it. I was gonna give it back but...”

“But...” I prompted.

“It’s all gone,” Rat said, not sounding a bit sorry. One side of his mouth lifted up like he was making an attempt to smile.

“You think it’s funny stealing Chanos’ shit? That’s it. I’m gonna pop his ass.” Juvante flicked aside his shirt and exposed the handle of the gun in his waistband. I knew Juvante wouldn’t use it because my brother hated violence as much as I did, but Rat didn’t know that.

Holding both hands out, Rat kept his gaze glued on the gun and stammered, “Give me two weeks. I swear on my mother’s grave I’ll get every dime of the street value back to you.”

“You had a mother?” Juvante asked.

“You know I’m good for it,” Rat wheedled. “I’ll talk to Chanos. I’ll make it right, I swear.”

“One week. Next Saturday. I’ll be back then. If you don’t show, I’ll find you,” I said.

Rat rubbed his hair and his brow furrowed. He scrubbed his chin. “I don’t know man...one week...I can get maybe half that...”

“Dumbass, I’m not Kmart. Do I look like I’m offering you a fucking layaway plan? One week.” I stared him down until he lowered his gaze, then I hit Juvante on the arm and we turned to leave.

“He’ll come through, man,” Juvante said as we walked back to the Charger.

He had to. I didn’t want to be tangled up with Chanos like I’d been before. He had a way of owning your soul. Too young and stupid to fear even death back then, I hadn’t cared what I’d done. When a man doesn’t care, he doesn’t think he has anything to lose. But that was before Tana. Now, I knew I had everything to lose.

Chapter Six

TANA

It was almost nine when Ryan pulled up outside my house. I’d told Brooklyn and Shelby to go on ahead since we were taking separate cars. Brooklyn had questioned whether or not Ryan was going to show when Shelby had given her a look and said, “For Tana, Ryan always shows up.”

I didn’t say anything to that because it was the truth. Ryan had always been around when I’d needed him. I stepped outside and locked the front door, then hurried to the Charger, shading my eyes at the brightness of the headlights cutting a path through the darkness. Ryan got out and jogged around the front to open the passenger door. “Hang on.” He dove into the car and pulled a box off the seat, then walked to stick it in the trunk. “Sorry. Cooper said he was going to drop by the party and that’s a piece for his car.”

“No problem.”

“Hey.” Ryan put out his arm to stop me from getting in. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

Puzzled, I frowned. “Earlier?”

“The garage.”

“You’re sorry for kissing me?” That would seriously suck if he did regret kissing me after how it had impacted me. I didn’t want him to be sorry.

His beautiful eyes darkened. “No, not for kissing you. I lost control. I shouldn’t have picked you up and put you on the desk like that. I let it go too far. The place is dirty and it stinks and—”

I put a finger against his lips. “I didn’t notice any of that.”

He put his hands on my waist in the same spot where his hands had been when he’d lifted me up onto the desk. “I gripped you pretty hard. Did I hurt you?”

A lump gathered in my throat at the concern on his face. On the outside, Ryan looked like trouble. It was more than his tattoos and muscled build. He had a toughness about him that said he’d lived life hard. But on the inside, in the part of him that he didn’t like anyone to see, he was both good and kind. “Yes, it hurt,” I said.

A muscle clenched in his jaw and I moved my hand to stroke the hard line of his skin. My hand tingled, my stomach tightened and I ached to pull him closer, to kiss him, to let the world stand still around us. “But only when you stopped.”

He cleared his throat and lowered his arm. “As long as you’re okay.”

To get into his car, I had to brush against him since he hadn’t moved from the spot. I heard his swift exhale and turned my head to look at him. The night played across his face, shadowing his expression. “What’s wrong?” I whispered, afraid to break the spell.

“Nothing.” He waited for me to get into the car and then closed the door. When he got into the car beside me, he reached for the radio and cranked it up, a habit he had when he didn’t want to talk.

By the time we reached Tristan’s sprawling house, the party was in full swing. Cars lined both sides of the street and light from the house spilled out across the manicured lawn. Music boomed through the open windows at an ear splitting level. I was surprised at the tension I felt. Once, I’d belonged here in the area of million dollar homes and expensive cars but now it felt like a world so far removed from anything I could ever imagine wanting to be part of.