Yeah, I was shocked at his one-eighty personality flip too. Then I saw the moment when clarity hit him. I witnessed the shock flash over his face when he realized what he’d done. I will never forget the remorse and pain in his eyes as the guys pulled him off me, or the sound of the beating he took. It was as if he knew he deserved it, and took his punishment willingly. A big part of me burns with this feeling that was the moment everything changed—for him—for me—but how do I explain it to Lily and Bethany.

“Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on. I haven’t even had time to wrap my own head around it.”

Both women look reluctant to let it drop.

Pointing the spoon in my hand at Lily, I say, “You don’t want to talk about Goose.” I swing it toward Bethany. “And you don’t want to talk about what’s his name, so how about we make this a guy talk free night? I’m not saying I won’t talk about it. Just not right now.”

Lily looks like she wants to argue. She opens her mouth to do so, but Bethany cuts her off by saying, “Yeah, for now. But I can’t promise I won’t bring it back up after the kids go to bed and we have a few drinks. I’m a motor mouth when I’m tipsy.”

Lily laughs. “She’s not lying. Her filter completely disappears when there’s alcohol. We’re so getting smashed later.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Bethany retorts.

As I dish out the food, I covertly watch Bethany with Medda. She’s one of those moms every child should have, patient, loving, playful, and affectionate.

I’d like to think I was the same way with Will. I worked six days a week but tried to be home in time to do our nightly routine. Bath by eight. In bed by nine. We’d read a book, no less than two times, then she’d be out by nine-thirty. Sundays were our days. It was the only day of the week I refused to work. I’d usually plan something special. If the weather was good, we’d go to the park or the beach. If it was cold or raining, we’d watch movies or do something creative indoors. Back then it was a struggle from day to day, and I was always stressed about bills and having money for food, but there were plenty of hugs and kisses and smiles and laughs to fill my days and make it all worth it.

“Mav wants us to take her shopping,” Bethany says. “Maybe Taffy would like to come too.”

“Oh, my God, yes!” Lily claps. “We can find you a dress for the party,” she says excitedly to me.

“Uhmmm. . . .” Bethany interjects. “Mav said not to let you pick out her new clothes.”

A frown transforms Lily’s face, “What? Why?”

Bethany shrugs. “I don’t know. Didn’t ask.”

Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t wear dresses anyway.” Dresses remind me of Warner and the thought of wearing one makes me feel itchy all over. Plus, Mav called me fake. Nothing would be more fake than putting on a sexy dress and trying to act comfortable and confident in it. It might sound odd, but I’d be more comfortable in a bikini than a dress. Growing up in the sand and the sun, I’m used to showing skin. Just for a different reason. Also, I don’t want to spend what money I have on something I won’t wear again in the future.

Still frowning, Lily says, “Well whatever, but something sexy. I wanna watch that man suffer. He’s been nothing but a dick to you since you got here, so we’re gonna make you look so good he’s gonna eat his heart out.”

I sigh.

“Sorry . . . sorry. I forgot. No talking about the guys.” She pulls her fingers over her lips and throws away the make-believe key.

We end up watching one movie. At ten, Lily goes to pick up Axel who finally called for a ride, and Bethany puts Medda to bed. I clean up dinner and the toys in the front room.

When Axel gets home, he reeks of pot. His light blue eyes aren’t red though and he swears up and down, he wasn’t the one smoking it, but Bethany’s livid. They face off against one another until finally Bethany ends it and sends him to bed with a warning that they’ll talk in the morning. As Axel passes by the kitchen, scowling and trailing the pungent scent that reminds me of home through the house, I take in his strong features. He has olive skin, a cleft chin, and prominent cheekbones. His hair is the same golden-blond as his mothers, and he has a lanky build, but broad shoulders he hasn’t yet grown into.

A few seconds later, the entire house rattles with the force he uses to slam his door.

I can’t help but think it’s sad that he has a mom who cares and he’s taking it for granted.

Lily’s pops the cork on the wine. She fills three wine glasses. Before she can finish pouring, Bethany marches in and snatches one from the table. She chugs it, and then holds it out for Lily to refill. Thrusting it toward us, she says, “To grandchildren. If it wasn’t for the promise of grandchildren, it’s quite possible we’d kill our teenagers.”

Lily laughs and raises her glass. “To friends and shopping trips to the mall.”

I raise my glass. “I just hope like hell tomorrow is a better day than today.”

We clink our glasses together and I take my first sip of wine I’ve had since leaving Warner. The tart liquid swirls over my tongue and slides down my throat. It’s bitter and probably not my drink of choice, but for my first girls’ night out since I turned twenty-one a year and fifteen days ago . . . it’s memorable.

Time heals some wounds, while giving others the chance to fester and bleed until we’re never the same as we once were.

EMBER

For a long time we talk about everything besides Mav, Goose, and Dozer. They ask me about myself and I tell them about home and my mom and Sunny. They raptly listen as I recount all of the many jobs I’ve had over the years. I say nothing of Will, knowing that if I do I’ll spend the rest of the night crying.

Lily’s story follows mine, and I discover how much worse my childhood could have been. Learning about all she went through at such a young age has a vice gripping my heart and tightening around it until she gets to the part about how she finally turned her life around.

I also learn Bethany was raised by loving parents. Her mother’s a nurse and lives in Rio Rancho, but is always far too busy to help her with her kids, and her father died a couple of months after she finished high school. Killed in a training accident while on duty with the military. Shortly afterward, Dozer signed up to go into the Navy, and she broke it off with him because she just couldn’t deal with the possibility of losing him too.

Knowing Dozer was in the Navy helps me make sense of the one tattoo I’ve seen he has high up on his arm. It has an eagle standing on an anchor. There’s also a trident and an old revolver in the image and the words, “THY WILL BE DONE” written above it. His shirt covers it most of the time, but when he wears his sleeveless shirts to the gym, it’s completely visible.

Getting to know a little of their story makes me feel all the more guilty for not telling Dozer how I really feel. The next time I see him, I need to clear the air.

The next time I see him . . .

Does that mean I’m staying?

Over the course of the last few hours, my situation has changed entirely. I have a safe place to stay. Money. A job. Friends who seem more than willing to help me. I have a way to check on Sundown and Will if only my sister would answer or call me back. I also have a man who turns my body to liquid every time I see him, begging me to stay so we can give the attraction between us a chance to become something more.

But I won’t stick around if it means jail time or being sent back to Warner, and I sure as hell won’t put up with Mav’s mistreatment a second time. But the fact remains, ratting out the club isn’t an option, and I don’t know which Mav I’ll see when he returns, or when Davis will come looking for me.