Mallory and her boyfriend were high school sweethearts. Currently training to become a firefighter, he lived and breathed his work. While I knew she missed him, their relationship couldn’t be ruined.

I sipped my espresso. “I’m jealous you don’t have to date anymore. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t be jealous. Clint’s idea of romance is fart jokes.”

My coffee sputtered onto the counter. Mallory wiped it up and threw the dirty rag aside. I shook my head. “Fart jokes or not, you know he loves you. There is no second guessing, waiting by the phone and, or, exes lurking in the background.”

“You’re right but the only way to get there is to date.”

My bottom lip jutted out as I cradled my chin. “It’s not fair.”

“Who’s the boy getting your panties in a knot?”

“The guy from the other day who put that asshole in a headlock.”

Mallory let out an approving whistle. “He was hot.”

“He is hot and smart and funny and more difficult than a Rubik’s Cube.”

“Aren’t the artist types always?” She clarified when she saw my look of confusion, “I saw the invitation.”

“Oh.”

She deposited my dirty dishes into the sink and began to clean the hulking espresso machine. A tedious job I hated with every bone in my body because the parts never got clean enough. Mallory gladly took it upon herself to do it while I took on the job she hated, taking out the trash and cleaning the bathroom.

“In the year we have worked together, I have never seen you like this over a guy before.” she said casually.

“That’s because with most guys I can tell what they want. With Andrew, I have utterly no idea what he wants with me. Friendship, a relationship, friends with benefits, or am I merely a pity project?”

“Why would you be a pity project?”

My mouth clamped shut. Mallory wasn’t about to get clued in to my sordid past. Shrugging, I jumped off the stool and busied myself with the trash.

“You guys met, what two days ago?” she asked.

Was that right? Had Andrew and I only met two days ago? Jesus, it felt like eons ago. Nothing like thrusting two strangers into a drama laced with drugs and death threats to bring them together.

I tied the trash bag ties. “Yeah, that’s correct.”

“You need to chill and that’s coming from me, Mrs. Type A personality. Your relationship will find its groove. Don’t force it and enjoy getting to know each other. If it doesn’t work out, then there are plenty of other fish in the sea.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. Mallory was right. Andrew and I had gone pedal to the metal since that night we met at the club. We had to slow our roll. Whatever happened in the future or in the past happened. Like an old middle-aged hippy would say, live in the now.

“My mixed up brain thanks you.” My arms lifted the gross remnants of people’s coffee cups and breakfast out of the trash bin. “And to show you how much so, I’ll also clean the floors.”

Mallory faked gasped.

“I know,” I laughed. “It’s a goddamn miracle. I’ll be right back.”

Hauling the heavy bag outside, stale pee assaulted my senses. Why does every alleyway have the same smell? A light drizzle fell from the clouds above, staining the cement. With one hand I lifted the garbage bin lid and with the other, threw the bag inside. As it landed, gnats flew out in a black cloud. I screeched and waved them away.

“Disgusting creatures,” I murmured.

My heels spun in the other direction, running straight into an iron blockade. I opened my mouth to scream. An arm snaked around my waist, pulling me against his chest and he smacked his hand against my lips. Fear collided with my survivor instinct. I jerked my leg backwards and up, aiming for a crotch shot.

My captor doubled over in two. “What the hell, Haven?”

At the sound of my name, I faced the man who sounded a lot like Big Ted. Indeed it was. He was thinner, almost thirty pounds lighter. Tufts of dark hair stood up on his scalp. An ill-fitting suit hung off his new and improved body. As he turned his head skyward, gasping for breath, I noticed black and blue rings underneath his eyes. To put it mildly, Big Ted was just as much of a baby gangsta as he was fifteen years ago.

A sadistic smile tugged at my lips. “Are you enjoying eating the cement? Because that’s where you belong.”

“Are you on your period? Because you’re being particularly bitchy this afternoon.”

I wanted to kick him in the nuts all over again. “You got Sumiko hooked on drugs and then had the tenacity to send her over to my apartment like some messenger pigeon.”

He lifted himself off the ground. Five-foot-eleven of an empty soul loomed over me. “She got hooked on drugs herself. I merely provided the supply.”

“And threatened to cut it off if I don’t pay my mom’s stupid non-existent debt. Do you know how dangerous that is? Sumiko could have died from withdrawal.” I raised my chin and met his gaze. If my hatred were a lit match, Big Ted would have burned to death. “You killed my mom. I’ll be damned if I stand by and watch you kill Sumiko as well.”

Big Ted’s finger closed around my wrist. Desperation swirled in his eyes, which was far scarier than hatred. A desperate man would do just about anything to get what he wanted, murder included.

“I will kill anybody and everybody you’re close to if you don’t get me that remaining seven hundred dollars.” His rancid breath tickled my cheek. “Your whore of a mother’s blow jobs is no longer a option. Unless….” Big Ted pushed my head toward his crotch area.

Revulsion choked the air from lungs as I struggled.

Laughing, he let go and I stumbled backwards against the dumpster. “Get me that money.”

With that threat, he was gone.

The contents of my stomach emptied onto the cement. Salty tears leaked from eyes into my mouth. Inhaling garbage-tainted air, I choked back the sob rising out my throat. Get it together, Haven. I shakily straightened but my legs were nonexistent. Bracing myself, I counted to ten backwards.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6….” Big Ted’s voice rang in my ears. The world tilted and I fought against a fresh wave of nausea. I started again. “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1….”

Better.

My mom had stooped to the lowest levels to get the next fix. Stealing, lying, cheating, but she never used her body. Right? Doubt crept in like a virus. Images hidden in the recesses of my mind appeared like a bad dream. My mom at Big Ted’s house, leaving me to play in the living room while she went to do grown up stuff. Emerging an hour later, clothes rumpled, lipstick smeared and eyes glossy. I bit my fist to muffle the scream that wanted to tear free. The shred of respect I had for my mom dissolved. She brought her demons into my childhood for which they stayed long after her death.

“Haven?”

Mallory’s voice was the glue that haphazardly pieced me back together. Slapping a smile on my face, I wiped away my tears and faced her.

“Hey, sorry. The stupid dumpster was overfilled.”

She saw straight through my lie but like a true friend pretended to believe me. “No problem. As soon as you wash the floors you can leave.”

“Great.”

The floors were spotless in record time and I quickly changed out of my uniform. A walk around along the riverfront was badly needed. The rain had turned into a downpour. Throwing my hood over my head, I battled the wind and made my way east. The poor weather chased away the usual mommy joggers with the strollers and hundred-dollar workout clothes. Alone with my thoughts, they turned to the last mother-daughter date my mom and I had.

She was living in a crummy studio apartment. Her latest fling had been a year before that and she hadn’t been able to get another one since then. The drug abuse had taken its toll, smudging her beauty into a watercolor painting. My mom’s settlement money from Sumiko’s dad was running short and she had grown depressed. I knew all of this, yet, was shocked at her state when we met for breakfast at a diner near Cadillac Square. She slid into the booth opposite me and flashed a weak smile.