It’s not getting into trouble. Not talking to homeless people. Not even saving the world. But it’s the least I can do.

***

Next day drags, probably because I can’t stop thinking of my plans to talk to Micah. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I think my heart is on overdrive, but the excitement is pleasant. Cassie sends me questioning glances, and I realize I have a smile on my face.

I need to calm down. This is stupid. He may even be outside when I pass on my way to the bus stop, and I won’t even need to do or say anything because I’ll know he’s okay.

But the butterflies remain, doing crazy flips in my insides as I bring shoes from the storeroom and help the customers try them on and as I hang the clothes back at their proper places.

A guy watches me from the door of the shoe shop across the street. I frown. Is everyone watching me these days, or am I going crazy? I turn my back on him and do my best to ignore him.

“What’s up, girl?” Cassie nudges me with her elbow. “Did something happen?”

I steal a moment when the boss isn’t looking and tell her quickly about Micah and our brief encounter.

“No shit!” she says, her mouth open, and I laugh.

The boss sends us a stern look, and we go back to work, tidying up and hiding grins. God, this work day will never end, and it’s only part-time. As I get ready to leave, Cassie turns her back to the boss and makes signs at me to call her afterward to talk.

I’d love to have a friend like that, to chat on the phone and laugh. Only I don’t think there will be anything more to talk about. My life is boring, and as for Micah... I’m just going to say hi to him, that’s all.

Boom go the butterflies in my stomach, exploding all over the place, making me feel slightly sick. Maybe I’m getting the flu or something. This can’t be normal.

I redo my ponytail, then check my face in the bathroom mirror. My eyes look too bright, my cheeks are flushed. I look feverish. Crap.

The day is gray, and a light drizzle falls as I hurry down the street. People give me and my walking stick curious looks, but I ignore them. I’m buzzing with nerves. A homeless young woman is crouched in an alley behind a dumpster, and my steps falter. She looks at me, her face thin and sad.

Mentally, I make a note to come back tomorrow and see how I can help her.

Keep out of trouble, Joel’s voice hisses in my head. Blake’s face flashes in my mind, dark with anger. Not your responsibility, Evie. Let them be.

If I see you talk to them, even look at them, I’ll bust their legs.

Jesus. I frown and pick up my pace, my knee twinging in protest. I shouldn’t be afraid of Blake. He’s a jerk, not dangerous. He’s all talk and nothing more.

Doesn’t change the fact he’s a jerk—patronizing and arrogant. He most certainly drinks—in fact, I’ve had to put up with his drunken ass more than once—and I’m pretty sure he does hard drugs, too. Why is it any safer being alone with him than with the people on the streets? At least on the street I’m not alone.

And as for Joel’s concerns, I am careful. Christ. It’s not as if I go out at night and hang around dark places where I may get jumped. If possible, I ask about the person before approaching them. Not everyone on the street is a junkie. Not everyone is aggressive. Besides, I have pepper spray in case I need it. I’ve never needed it so far. I keep away from those who drink or seem high on drugs.

I halt. Look back toward the alley where the woman crouched in filth.

This isn’t me. Finding excuses. Cowering. Letting a jerk’s words stop me. I can do something small, like forego my coffee and donut today and give her that money instead. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

As I turn and head back the way I came, I realize I’m smiling. I almost feel like myself again. Almost there.

I’m at the mouth of the alley, already searching one-handed in my bag for my wallet, when someone grabs my arm from behind and spins me around.

“You just won’t listen,” Blake growls.

My heart stops, then starts again, pounding against my ribs. I try to pull away. “Let me go.”

“Do you know I’ve marked in my memory every single loser you’ve tried to help on the street? I know their faces. Every single one you chose over me.”

Holy shit.

He nods at the alley. “I saw you looking at her as you passed. You thought I was joking when I said not to go anywhere near these scumbags?”

I twist in his hold, but his fingers clamp harder around my arm. “I’ll call the police.”

“Really? On the guy who saved your life after the accident?” He makes a dramatic face.

Oh God, he’s really crazy. “Damn you. Let me go.” I twist my arm again, and he releases me.

“I won’t say it again,” he hisses. “Stay away from the streets. My girlfriend keeps better company than that.”

His girlfriend. The guy is a psychopath. I watch him as he walks to a sleek black car, climbs in and speeds away.

Shit. Will Joel believe me if I tell him what happened?

***

After the scare Blake gave me, I just give up and go home. I’m jittery and need to talk to someone about him.

I look for my brother, but he isn’t home. Out with his buddies, my mom says. Dad’s still at work.

Not many options there. Mom it is.

“Mom...” I sit next to her on the sofa and try to think what to say not to stress her. I don’t want to have my family freaking out over Blake and forcing me to stay indoors. I spent enough time at home these past months to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.

Mom is a pretty woman with her dark brown hair and blue eyes. Joel looks like her a lot. She’s absorbed in a fitness program on TV and cuts me an annoyed look.

“What is it, honey?” she mutters. “Can’t it wait?”

“It’s about Blake.”

She sighs. “Is the crisis over? Are you two back together?”

“What? No.” My hands writhe in my lap as if they don’t belong to me. “No, we’re not. Mom, Blake is sick.”

She frowns, glances at the TV, then back at me. “Sick?”

“His mind is twisted.”

“Don’t be theatrical, Evie. What do you mean?”

“He’s following me around. Says he doesn’t want me talking to people on the street.”

Unbelievably, Mom’s gaze softens. “Oh, honey, he’s looking after you. Can’t you see he wants to be with you? He’s—”

“He’s crazy, Mom. He threatened to hurt any person on the street I talk to.”

“He’s joking, Evie... You know he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Do I? “How do you know he won’t?”

“He’d never hurt you. Has he ever done anything to you?”

“No, but he was there! He told me I shouldn’t talk to the homeless and then—”

“See? He’s looking out for you. He brought you to the hospital after your accident. He cares for you.”

I close my eyes and shake my head. Both she and Dad, not to mention Joel, think Blake is a saint. “I’m telling you, Mom. Something’s off with that guy.”

“Just stop going to dangerous places, honey.” Her attention is back on her TV program. “Blake is right. You could get hurt.”

***

I won’t let Blake destroy my life. I won’t live in fear. I need to be myself again.

Yet when I see a man rolled up in a sleeping bag lying on a bench, I hurry past, an itch between my shoulder blades. Is Blake watching me?

Christ.

The morning flies at work. I stash the walking stick away again, and the boss says nothing. Cassie and I exchange hurried words as customers go in and out.

Well, Blake’s threats won’t stop me from seeing Micah. I’m worried about him. Blake wouldn’t dare touch him. Micah isn’t one of the homeless he marked.

Then why am I still scared? Shaken.

My boss manages to keep me later than the end of my shift, and I say nothing, hoping to keep my job. As soon as I’m allowed to go, I grab my walking stick and my bag and hurry out and down the street.