“Haley,” says Kaden. My brother and I used to be close. Like everything else in my life, I miss him. When I say nothing, he rattles the bag in his hands. “Where’s Dad’s meds?”

“In the bag.”

“No, they’re not.”

“What?”

“There’s lettuce in there and no meds.”

My lungs collapse and my fingers tug at the neckline of my shirt. “No, they’re in there. They have to be.”

“Not here.” Kaden shakes the bag again so that it crackles. “It took Mom two months to earn enough for the pills. How could you lose them? Dad needs them.”

“I know,” I snap and throw my hands over my eyes. “I know.”

I bang the back of my head against the wall. I lost Dad’s medication. My family’s only hope of getting out of this godforsaken place. That’s why the guys left. I didn’t lose the meds. They stole them. The muscles beneath my right cheek begin to pulsate. Tears burn my eyes and my chest becomes heavy. I swore I’d never fight again and I did. I swore I’d never be hit again. And I have. This is the penance for breaking that promise. God, I’m worthless.

“Go, Kaden,” says Jax. “It’s happened and can’t be undone.”

Kaden disappears down the stairs and Jax crouches next to me. My cheeks feel numb against the warmth of the house. The skin there tingles and so do my fingers. Jax grabs them and begins to rub. “We need to find you a jacket.”

“You don’t have one,” I mumble blankly and flinch when regret cuts deep. Jax’s hands pause against mine and we make fleeting eye contact.

“I’m sorry.” I broke a cardinal rule. Kaden and I never mention what Jax doesn’t have.

“It’s okay.” He massages warmth back into my fingers. “I can take frostbite. You can’t.”

I offer a weak smile. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Yeah,” he says under his breath then releases my hands. “You are.”

“I lost the meds,” I announce as if he wasn’t part of the earlier conversation. “I lost Dad’s pills.” Why do I keep screwing up?

“You had a shit ton of errands and not enough time. You ran home and they probably fell out of the bag. It could have happened to any of us. If you’re going to live here, you’ve got to learn to let stuff go. Otherwise, you’ll go insane.”

I meet his green eyes at the word insane. What if I’m already there? What if I can’t take much more? I don’t ask those questions because I see the same ones forming in his eyes.

My cousin glances away. “We covered for you. Said you came in through the back door and came straight here.”

“Thanks. Why did he buy it?” Typically we have to present ourselves to The Dictator like soldiers in his make-believe war.

Jax scratches at the thin three-inch scar streaking across his forehead. He’s chosen a skater look today, and his hair lies flat against his head. “We told him you had an accident.”

My stomach drops. I’m not going to like this. “An accident?”

He avoids eye contact as he absently gestures with his hand. “Girl problems. Blood...in spots...on clothes.” Jax bolts up. “We’re not discussing this anymore. We covered for you. He bought it. That’s all you need to know.”

Heat finally races to my cheeks. Freaking kill me now. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Jax looks at me again; then he’s really looking at me. Like pissed-off looking at me. “What the f**k?”

Instinctively, my fingers go to my cheek and I regret it the moment Jax’s fists clench.

“Did you get jumped?” he demands. “Is that how you lost the meds?”

“Jax!” his dad bellows from the bottom of the stairs. “Come here!”

“Haley,” Jax says, ignoring his father.

“Jax!” This time the glass of the old window shakes with his voice and I shudder.

“Go!” I say to him, preferring not to be the reason the two of them get into a screaming match. “Please.”

He points at me. “This ain’t over.” Jax turns and, like Kaden, bends as he crosses the room.

I brush my fingers against my sensitive cheek. “Jax.”

He hesitates near the door.

“I can’t go down to dinner like this and my makeup’s downstairs. Can you help?”

Jax nods. “Consider it done.”

Chapter 8

West

“I think you’re dead.”

My eyes flash open and I scramble up when I come face-to-face with hazel eyes and long dark hair. A quick scan of the room and I discover I’m on a couch in a gray concrete unfinished basement. A single bulb lights the area. Behind me are a washer and dryer. In front of me is a bed and to the side, a TV. Last night, I took a hot shower and crashed.

I scrub my hands over my face. This is bad. Last night happened. It wasn’t a nightmare.

“Damn, I guessed wrong. You’re alive.” Near where my head had been, Abby falls back from her knees to her butt. “I can’t decide if that’s good or bad news.”

“Screw you.” My muscles are stiff. Sore. I hesitantly stretch to see if anything’s broken.

Abby presses a hand over her mouth and mock gasps. “Your mother would be appalled by your manners. Tsk. Tsk. I believe pleases and thank-yous are in order.” She loses the fake sweetness. “Even if you are slumming it, Rich Boy.”

She kicks my shin as she stands. “Get up. I’ve got work to do and babysitting is not on the list.”

Memories of last night crash into my mind. More importantly of the girl who possibly rescued me from dying of exposure on the street. “Is Haley okay?”

Being a damned loser last night, I couldn’t muster enough energy or self-respect to drive her home.

“She was the last time I saw her. Are you dating her?”

“No.”

“Fucking her?”

I glare at Abby, but I can’t throw too much anger into it. She also saved my ass. I pop my neck to the side, hoping to expel the annoying insecurity over Haley’s safety.

“Good. Rumor has it she’s decent. She deserves better.”

She probably does. Haley’s probably one of those dinner, a movie, roses type of girls who take a month to work up to the first kiss. Me—not my style. “What time is it?”

“Too early for my clients to be awake, but they will be soon.” Abby pulls a cell phone out of her back pocket. “Get your ass moving. This isn’t the Holiday Inn.”