“Dammit, Jesse, get your ass over here.”

Seriously? I owe him everything, but can’t he let up? Can’t he see I need a minute?

“And I mean now.” Zane leans on the counter, gripping it tight, as if about to vault over to get to me.

Yeah, obviously not. What the fuck does he want? Why now?

Slowly I turn toward him and lean on the counter so that we’re almost nose to nose. “Sorry, man, that’s all the fucking sauce we got. Take it up with the manager if you want.”

“Jesse!” Mel hollers from the back. “What the hell are you doing? Apologize to the man.”

I wince.

“It’s okay,” Zane hollers back. “I know him. No harm done.” Then to me he says, “Take a walk with me, J. A short one, I promise.”

Fuck you.

“Go on,” Mel says. “Take a break. Five minutes.”

Zane leads the way down the street to a bench. He offers me a cigarette and I take it. We light up and sit. The night is clear, though I can see no stars from where I’m standing. Too many lights from the city obscuring the sky, I guess.

Hiding in the light. I always thought that was some magical shit. I could see the stars from the boy camps I escaped from, and let me tell you, not even the beauty of the night sky out there in the wildness could make the camps pretty. I’ve never been able to associate the stars with anything good since then.

Good riddance.

The silence stretches for so long I start to get antsy. Zane is observing me over the glowing embers of his cigarette, his dark eyes narrowed to slits.

I swallow hard, choke on the smoke and cough. “Shit.”

“Something’s up with you,” Zane rumbles.

“Come on, Z-man.” I stick the cigarette back into my mouth and draw the smoke into my lungs, smothering the cough and forcing myself to take it, like everything else. “If you changed your mind about taking me in, then say it. I won’t take it personally.”

He lifts a brow at me. “You think I’m gonna ditch you?”

I shrug. “Who would blame you? I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Says who?”

He’s confusing me. “I dunno, man. Everyone.”

“You mean Amber?”

The mention of her name catches me short. “Amber said that?”

And why the fuck does the thought tighten painfully around my chest like a band of steel?

“Fucker…” Zane shakes his head, his blue Mohawk catching the light of a betting shop behind us. “What’s the story between you and Amber? Spill.”

“There’s no fucking story.” I sit back, disgusted with myself for my moment of weakness and stupidity. “Why are you asking?”

“You seem interested in her, is all. Very interested.”

“And how’s that weird?”

“First time you do that, fucker. You may chase after every single skirt in town, but you never seemed to want to actually talk to a chick before.”

Amber…doesn’t think I’m funny. Doesn’t fall for my teasing. Sometimes I think she hates my guts. It’s safe. As safe as it can be when my dick is hard as a rock every time I see her.

“I have no fucking clue what you mean by that.”

“Yeah, I think you damn well do.” Zane throws the stub of his cigarette down and crushes it under his black boot. “You followed Amber to the ladies’ restroom, but chrissakes.”

“I was just checking on her.”

“Yeah, right.” Zane snorts. “You dig her, don’t you? More than other chicks. You wanna get into her pants because she’s so serious, is that it? Fess up. I know how your mind works.”

I shake my head, because no, that’s not it, and besides, nobody knows how my mind works, including me. “It’s just… she reminds me of someone.”

Though for the life of me I can’t remember who that might be, and why am I telling this to Zane, after all? Wasn’t I all set on keeping my thoughts to myself? Shit.

“What, like you knew her before?”

“I doubt it.” If anything, I wouldn’t have forgotten such a pretty face coupled with those sexy curves… And there goes my mind down the gutter, ’cuz, man, I really wouldn’t mind getting into her pants at the end of the day.

“As long as you’re not thinking of jumping her bones and then walk out, like you normally do. She’s Ev’s friend, for fuck’s sake, and she’s had her share of rough times, so play nice, okay?”

He gets up and stretches his long frame.

Play nice. Okay, so now it makes sense. It’s not me he’s worried about. It’s Amber. After all, he always looks out for his own.

Am I one of his own? He acts like I am, but the doubt can never leave me alone.

Then his words sink in.

“A rough time? What sort of rough time? What the hell do you mean?” My heart is booming, and I don’t know why. “Zane.”

But the asshole is already walking away, his warning ringing in my ears and more questions than before crowding my aching head.

Awesome.

***

When I unlock the apartment door and trudge inside, the first thing I hear is the unmistakable sound of a headboard thumping rhythmically on the wall, and long, loud moans. I’m frankly amazed at the volume two naked people can produce at one in the fucking morning.

Ah, home sweet home. 

I stand in front of Travis’s door and bang on it. “Hey, asshole! Have you thought about taking a break once in a while? Your dick will fall off from overuse.”

This is happening every single night, and people think I am the manwhore. Christ.

The door suddenly flies open. I take a stumbling step back as a very naked, dark-haired and pissy-looking girl wags a finger under my nose.

“What’s your problem?” she screeches.

“My problem?” I try to see past her into Travis’s room. “What do you think? It’s the fucking noise you two are making. Won’t let me sleep.”

“You just came in. You’re still in your jacket. So stop lying.”

With that, she steps back and shuts the door in my face.

Ow.

Making a mental note to buy better earplugs, I walk into the kitchen to see if I can scrounge up something to eat, maybe a P&J sandwich, before hitting the sack.

And run into Gage. And his friends.

Bingo, just what I needed. Fucking joy.

I wonder how I missed the din of four drunk guys laughing and yelling over a game of cards spread on the kitchen table… Oh, wait a sec, I know how: Travis and his chick having noisy sex. Right.

Resisting the need to crack my head against the wall, I grab a glass of water and a couple of cookies and make my escape.

Unfortunately, I’m not fast enough, and Gage notices me.

Hell.

Gage’s a huge guy, way over six feet, with hulking shoulders and shaggy hair that flops in his eyes. His bulk bothers me, reminds me of too much darkness in my past.

Whether he senses my unease around him or not, Gage never hesitates to get physical. He reaches for me, and I dance out of reach.

“Yo, J. Come play with us, man. I could teach you a trick or two.”

“I bet you could.” Gage’s comments are always ambiguous at best and grate on my nerves. “Some other time, kay? Gotta crash.”

“Crash and burn,” Gage says ominously, and I walk out of the kitchen, wondering what the hell he means.

A few steps separate me from my room and the promise of—relative—peace and quiet.

One may think that after living on the street for as long as I had, such things wouldn’t matter, but in fact they matter to me more than to most people. Being able to close and lock a door, keep danger and interference behind it, being allowed to have a say about who prods me, touches me and fondles me while I lie unconscious and helpless in the clutches of sleep…

Yeah, not sure many people would appreciate that, but I sure do. It’s never been a given for me.

So you can understand why finding Alex barring my way is the last straw.

Alexander Finley is a quiet guy, the one I have the least problems with, unless he’s hounding me to pick up after my mess and take my turn cleaning the bathroom.