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  Her hand slips away and curls on top of my covers. “Shit. If I tell you a secret, pinky-swear not to tell anyone?”

  I nod vigorously. “Yes, yes.”

  “This is serious, Gigi.” Her gaze sweeps up to meet mine. She looks worried. “You can’t tell anyone at all about this.”

  “I pinky-swear. Hey, you trust me, or not? I promise I won’t tell. Now spill. What is this about?”

  Truth is, I’m terrified to hear it. Is she addicted already? Gone so far that she can’t stop?

  “So here’s the thing.” She sighs. “One of my boys is in trouble. He sort of… vanished.”

  I blink. I so wasn’t expecting this. “Vanished? Like… poof, gone?”

  She snorts. “Gone, yes. I can’t…” Her hand flies to her mouth and her eyes well up. “God, if he’s lying dead somewhere… I can’t stand the thought, I have to know… We’re trying to find him. I am trying to find him.”

  “But what does it have to do with drugs?”

  Her shoulders shake.

  “Syd.” I scoot on the bed, my heart pounding, until I’m sitting right beside her. “What are you saying? Why are you thinking the worst?”

  Like I do with Jarett, but Jarett is in a gang. This is different. I hope it is.

  “He got caught up in something bad, and we don’t know exactly what. He smokes weed. For medicinal purposes. I thought maybe I could find one of his dealers, maybe someone would know where he’s gone to.”

  Jesus. “And your other boys? How could they let you do this?”

  “They don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Syd, they’re your boyfriends—”

  “They’re not my boyfriends, okay? None of them is. We’re friends. And I don’t need anyone doing things for me. I can look after myself.”

  She gets up, and I push myself to my feet in my socks and long sweater. “Wait,” I whisper.

  “Come with me tonight.”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m not going out with you. Jesus.”

  “Please. You know, I…” A breath. “I don’t need anyone’s help, but I want you at my back, Gigi. I feel better when you’re there.”

  “This isn’t a good plan, girl.” I let my hands fall on my knees. “And you know it. Going about talking to drug dealers. What do the police say?”

  “That he’s probably left voluntarily. But I can’t believe that. No way. Because he smoked weed, that doesn’t mean he’s gone underground, shooting himself up with harder stuff, I just can’t… I can’t believe it. I won’t.”

  God. “Syd, I’m sorry, but I still don’t think that’s a good idea. And I can’t ask Jarett to help anymore.”

  “I don’t want you to ask Jarett! Can’t you see? I need to find Kash. He has nobody else in the world, and if I give up, who will find him?”

  “Stop.”

  My fingers curl on my knees. Jesus, she’s touching me right where it hurts.

  Because if I give up on Jarett… who will help him? If there is any chance, a single possibility of pulling him away from the gang, from that life, and saving him, who will help him if not me?

  But this is crazy, right? Thinking of saving Jarett from a life that is his choice—and who knows what this Kash has chosen to do, too?

  “What do you say, Gigi?”

  “I can’t, Syd. I can’t go and watch you getting beaten up or raped or God knows what. Hire a private detective to find Kash, talk to your other friends, but stop before you get yourself hurt or killed.”

  She pulls her hair away from her face, her jaw set. “I won’t stop. You know that. I need to find him, find out what happened to him. With your help or without.”

  “That’s extortion,” I tell her. “I think.”

  She cracks a faint smile. “Is it working?”

  God, I am so going to regret this. “I will go with you. But I swear, if you leave me and go off getting yourself into danger again, I won’t talk to you again. Ever. I’m serious. Is that clear?”

  “As day.” She straightens her shoulders. “I promise.”

  “Then it’s a go. And…” I squint up at her. “I think it’s time you introduced me properly to your boys.”

  We’re all dolled up, made-up and ready to party hard—or so we seem, at least. Ready to follow Sydney into yet another dead-end quest.

  What am I hoping for? No idea. Keeping an eye on her didn’t work last time. Asking her not to abandon me didn’t bring results. This time she told me what’s going on, granted, but what does it change?

  What does knowing ever change? If Jarett told me why he joined the gang, would it make a difference when his decision is to stay there?

  We enter the bar. At least this is familiar ground. We’ve been coming here for ages, ever since Syd and I first met. It’s a noisy place but not seedy like the other bars and clubs Sydney took me the last few times.

  That’s a relief.

  Still, this is a bad idea, and I know it. I could have insisted she stop this stupid course of action and think or another way to find him.

  If he wants to be found.

  And yet here I am, once again, because this friendship thing really matters to me. Sydney matters to me. We do crazy shit for the people we love, right?

  Still a terrible idea.

  What if I asked Jarett about Kash? Maybe he knows something about him, or he could ask around. He has connections, that’s for sure. And I have his number, like he reminded me.

  But this is an even worse idea. Forget about calling him, I command myself. Forget about Jarett, and move on.

  Sydney is talking to a guy I don’t know, but then I see a girl I know from class, and we talk about the upcoming test in psychology. We wander deeper into the bar, and find two of Sydney’s boy harem at the bar, drinking whiskey and talking quietly.

  They turn when Sydney inserts herself between them, and I hop on a free stool, waiting for Syd to introduce us.

  Crazy that I never officially met them until now, right? When we go out, they usually aren’t around. I’ve seen them plenty of times from a distance, when one or the other pick Sydney up after college, or after a night out.

  Weston, Nathan, and the mysteriously vanished Kash.

  Both Weston and Nathan are the tall, dark and strong type. They’re handsome boys, with broad shoulders and chests, and unruly hair. Pretty hot, if I want to be objective.

  But I don’t. I can’t. Not when every man I meet these days gets compared to Jarett in my mind and is found sorely lacking. Yeah, they don’t hold a candle to Rett.

  And that’s worrisome.

  “Guys, this is my best friend, Augusta. Augusta, this is Nathan and Weston.”

  “Just call me Gigi,” I say, shaking hands with the two guys.

  “Call me West,” Weston says.

  “Nate,” Nathan says, and both their grips are strong and dry and careful.

  Syd sure knows how to pick her men. Even if she says they aren’t her boyfriends. She just hasn’t made up her mind yet, which one to choose. Seeing these two from up close I understand her dilemma even better.

  Hottie number one, Hottie number two, or Hottie number three? How to choose? Problems, problems.

  “Want to dance?” Sydney asks, looking very comfortable between the guys. She’s leaning against Nathan, resting her hand on Weston’s arm.

  Yeah, way too comfortable. I wonder what they think about the situation. What they want from her.

  “I need to use the bathroom first,” I say. “Come with me?”

  “Sure.” She pats Weston’s arm and smiles up at Nathan before sauntering after me and linking her arm with mine. “Let’s go.”

  Does she even realize what she’s doing? She’s flirting with them both, touching them, and smiling at them. Or is that a thing friends do?

  Nah. This could get complicated, if it’s not already.

  “How long you’ve been friends with your boys?” I ask her over the music as we head toward the back. “Years, right? How many, six
?”

  “More.”

  Wow, okay. “And you’re just buddies. Pillow fights and pajama parties and sleeping in a pile like puppies?”

  She shoots me a sharp look. “Yeah. Why, what’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing.” It’s just that, in my experience with the world, guys are not girls, and the only reason they’d get into a bed with a girl would be to get into her panties.

  We fall silent as we enter the toilets. When I come out of my stall, I can’t see Syd, so I go out to look for her, cursing inside for asking her to come with me. Had she stayed with the boys, at least I’d be reasonably sure she wouldn’t go out on dangerous adventures on her own.

  In the low lights, I look around, trying to spot her among the swaying bodies of dancers, the interlocked couples kissing in corners, the people standing about drinking and talking.

  Where is she?

  When will I ever learn that things don’t change?

  I’m about to head toward the bar, see if by any chance she headed back there, when a hand grabs my arm and hauls me against the wall.

  My back slams into the plaster, my head thumps back, and I see stars. Quite literally—tiny bright flashes.

  “What…?” I start, panic gripping me, and I start to twist, when I realize who’s holding me there. Oh God. “Sebastian.”

  “You remember me. Interesting.”

  How could I forget the asshole who tried to force himself on me until Jarett intervened? “Let me go,” I hiss, twisting again, pushing at him with my other arm.

  He doesn’t budge, but doesn’t try to kiss or fondle me, at least. He’s just staring at me.

  Creepy.

  I stare back and realize his pupils are oddly dilated, huge. He’s on some drug, I’ll bet, and a shiver runs through me at the realization.

  “Sebastian.” I try again to pull my arm free. “Is Jarett here with you?”

  That seems to snap him out of his trance. “Fen? Fuck, no.” His mouth curls into a sneer. “I don’t know who he thinks he is. He thinks he’s my fucking bodyguard. I’m done going out with him.”

  Shit. “But, listen—”

  “Did he tell you he thinks he babysits me? That he has to always be my shadow because he promised Mom to keep me safe? Joined the gang because of me.”

  “Bullshit,” I say before I can control myself.

  What the hell? He promised his mom to babysit Sebastian, and that’s why he joined the gang? Is this a joke?

  “He swore,” Sebastian says, eyes bright with glee, the sneer turning into a grin. “He’s such an idiot he swore it to Mom, swore on Dad’s grave, and thinks Mom remembers it, that he has to keep that promise. He thinks it’s the honorable, the right thing to do. I betcha he’d give up everything for Mom, and he’s not even her son. Isn’t that just a laugh a minute?”

  I open my mouth, but no words come.

  I feel sick.

  He pulls away, releasing me, but I don’t move. “Tell him I don’t need him. Tell him to stay the fuck away from me. I can take care of myself, and I can handle Angel and Mav without his fucking help.”

  I swallow hard. “Why do you think he’d listen to me?”

  “You’re Gigi, right? Took me a while to put two and two together. You’re the girl he used to hang out with some years back.” He frowns. “So you’re the only chick, hell, the only person he’s ever listened to. The only one who ever got through to him. Fuck me if I know why.”

  With a shake of his head, he turns and goes, melting into the shadows, and I slide down the wall, dazed, my ass hitting the floor.

  Clues, my sister told me. Find clues.

  Here we are. If what Sebastian said isn’t a clue, then I don’t know what is. A man who swore to his adopted mom to keep her dumb, dangerous, delinquent son safe, and followed through with that promise even if it landed him in deep waters.

  Not ideal, but if this clue tells me something, it’s that Jarett’s heart is in the right place. It is a good heart, steadfast and true.

  But is that enough?

  “Where have you been?” Sydney throws herself on me the moment I approach the bar. “I looked everywhere!”

  “I’ve only been gone a few minutes,” I mutter, still shaken, unwinding her arms off me. Sitting on the stool where I left my jacket earlier, I grab Nathan’s drink and swallow it. It burns going down, but it steadies me a little. “Sorry. I’ll buy you another.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says with an amused smirk.

  “What happened?” Sydney insists. “Where did you go?”

  “Me? You disappeared and I went to look for you.” I don’t know if to tell her about Sebastian. I mean, nothing happened, not really.

  He just shocked me, that’s all.

  “I disappeared? You did! I peed. When I came out, you weren’t there. I checked all the stalls, called your name. So I came here, to see if you’d returned, but you weren’t, and I got so worried.”

  Shit. I’d been so sure she’d left, I didn’t consider she might still be inside.

  “Well, now you know how I feel every time you go off and leave me to wonder what happened to you,” I grouse.

  “She goes off?” Weston asks, frowning.

  Sydney makes shushing gestures to me that I ignore.

  Not that I want to talk right now, about this, or anything else. It’s funny, though, and I huff a laugh.

  What Sebastian said keeps spinning in my mind. Can I trust his words? He was high on something. Was any of it true? Was it just a story he made up on the spot?

  But what purpose would it serve? Too elaborate of a twist just to put Jarett down.

  So now I know he joined the gang to keep an eye on Sebastian. And more importantly, I know why he won’t leave the gang. How can he, if he promised to stay and keep an eye on his stupid asshole of a brother?

  God.

  “Are you okay?” Sydney asks, popping up right beside me. “You’d tell me if something happened, right?”

  I nod, distracted.

  “Good.”

  “What about your mission?”

  She shushes me. “Tonight it’s a no go. I’ll explain why another time. Talk to me about Jarett.”

  “What?” I start, because of course he’s all I can think about right now.

  “Jarett. Any news on that front?” She gestures to the bartender for a drink, then turns back toward me. We’re wedged between her guys, and normally I’d feel weird leaning against one of them—I mean, I barely know them—but I don’t give a damn.

  What else did Sebastian say to me?

  “You’re the only chick, hell, the only person he ever listened to. The only one who ever got through to him.”

  Why would he say that to me? What would he have to gain from it? He’d already berated Jarett, told me about the promise, told me to tell him not to bother protecting him…

  Why would Sebastian think I should be the one to tell Jarett that?

  What am I missing?

  Chapter Twenty

  Jarett

  Sebastian is home when I come back from my new job on Monday evening. He’s sprawled on the couch and has obviously found my hidden stash of booze because a collection of empty bottles decorates the coffee table.

  Shit. That motherfucker.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” he slurs, and I wince, because it reminds me of Mom—of Mrs. Lowe and how she’s losing her power of speech.

  Whereas her son chooses to destroy his brain on his own.

  “Fuck you,” I say without heat, too tired to pick a fight, and head straight to my bedroom.

  I start undressing, pulling the sweat-soaked clothes off me. Bartending is hard, but working in a fast-food corner store? Ten times worse. All I want is to take a hot shower and hit the sack.

  “You don’t walk away,” Sebastian says from my doorway, making me jump, “when I’m talking to you, asshole.”

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “Where were you?” He has
a suspicious glint in his eyes.

  “Work.”

  “Load of bull. You start work much later.”

  “It’s a new job. I got fired from the other one. Missed too many fucking shifts.”

  “Blame it all on the gang, huh?” He makes a face that I guess is supposed to look sad but looks like a sick clown. “Poor old Fen.”

  “Goddammit, Seb, fuck you,” I say again, and this time I mean it. I shove at him to go out the bedroom door. “Get out of the way. I need a shower.”

  The punch catches me in the kidneys, and I double over. The next one slams into my jaw, and I go down in a heap.

  Goddamn. What a fucked-up evening.

  “What. Do you. Want?” I see his boots approaching my face, and I flinch away, expecting him to kick me.

  But he just stares down at me. “I talked to your girl.”

  Ice runs through my veins. “What? What girl?”

  “The one you always stuck to like a disease. Gigi.”

  “You talked to her?” I sit up, seeing red. “What the hell, Seb? What did you do?”

  “Relax. We just talked. Honestly, man, I don’t get what you see in her. Anyway, I told her what an idiot you are. That I don’t need you.”

  I use the wall as a crutch to get up and lunge for him, sending him slamming into the wall. “Son of a bitch.”

  “I don’t need you babysitting me,” he grunts, and tries to punch me, but I twist away just in time. “I told you, I’m valuable to the gang. I don’t need you breathing down my back. Think I don’t know why you joined, why you’re always there? Guess what: I don’t hold you to that stupid promise, Rett, and neither does Mom. So leave us both the hell alone.”

  “You don’t speak for her.” I slam him back again, acid churning in my stomach.

  “She never really wanted you,” he spits. “Did you know that? She regretted taking you in.”

  “Bullshit. You think you’re gonna, what, break me with this? Think you’re being cruel?” I shake him. “I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t care if she never wanted me. I gave my promise to her as a man, and if you’re a man, a promise counts.” I spit a wad of blood on his boot. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”