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“Nope,” I lie for no reason other to be ornery. “I need to find a little girl’s room.”
He jacks his thumb over his shoulder. “A friend of mine lives in the apartments. You can use that.”
I pull out my phone and pretend that the last text message I received was important. It wasn’t. It was Houston texting me a picture of straws sticking out of his nose, but Tommy’s being friendly and he’s usually as cold as Linus. My instincts are flaring and I won’t ignore my best survival skills.
“I’m heading to the bar,” I finally say, and purposely squeeze between two people so that he’ll have a hard time catching up. “It’ll be a two-fer. Pee then make some sales.”
“I’ll come.”
“I’m good on my own.”
“Abby, I’m not honestly asking.”
My hackles rise. I step in front of him, point one finger, stick it into his stomach and push just enough that my long nail digs into his flesh. “Well, I’m honestly not accepting, so back off.”
Tommy jerks like I knifed him. “Linus doesn’t want you alone.”
“It’s not Linus’s call to make, it’s mine. I’m walking away, you aren’t following, and if you do I’ll make your life a living hell.”
“Talking big for a girl who was shot.”
I smile and it’s the one that scares even me. “And I got the bastard before he got me. Some guy with a gun couldn’t take on a seventeen-year-old girl with a knife. Now, that is pathetic so as I said, I’m good on my own.”
Something strange flashes over his face and that causes my head to cock to the side. I’m watching him. He’s watching me. My father’s voice rumbles in my head, Trust no one.
I have to fight to keep my eyes from trailing down to Tommy’s side. As we continue to stare each other down, I fight past the dull haze I had in the hospital and try to recall seeing Tommy there. Several of the other guys Linus considers worthy were there “keeping an eye on me,” but never Tommy.
“Linus is right,” he says. “You’re PTSDing.”
“Excuse me?”
“Before the alley, you never questioned one of us tagging along. Now you see everyone as the enemy.”
I’m paralyzed by his words, and for the first time I doubt my instincts—doubt myself. I turn and don’t say anything when he walks alongside me again. The world feels disjointed, almost like I’ve been struck.
“Were you really heading to the bar?” he asks.
“No.”
“Heading home then?”
“Yeah.” Lying seems useless, especially since my mind seems to be on a confused loop. My instincts are off—I’m off.
“I’ll give you a lift. Drop off at Hemlock and Orange, right?”
It’s over a mile from Grams’s and it’s still too close to her, but I have a route from there where I’d know if I was being followed. Linus has dropped me off there several times. So has Tommy. Never have they followed. The two of them have always given me my space. “Okay.”
When we reach the edge of the crowd, Tommy edges toward the apartments and I go along with him.
“Car’s parked over here,” he says as an explanation. “Why don’t you let anyone drive you home?”
“Because then you’d want me to ask you in and if I did that then you’d want cookies and if I give you cookies, then you’d want milk, and if I give you milk then you’d want sex.”
“Good point.”
I had been kidding, but then again Tommy is a male. My instincts are off. If my instincts are off how do I survive? “You doing okay? Linus said you took a hit.”
“I was down for a few days.” His lips stretch up, but that’s not a smile. “It’ll take a lot more to keep me out.”
