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“Because this is enough food for at least ten people, Savior.”

She set the box and the foam container on the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I don’t know what you were thinking.”

She returned with two plates and two beers.

“I was thinking that ten years is a long time to cover and we might get hungry walking down Memory Lane.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are so full of shit, you know that?”

Her words caught me off guard. “Damn, how many times did Ammo say that to me over the years?”

Just the way she had with a mix of incredulity and affection.

“Too many,” she agreed.

“So?” I dropped a slice onto both plates and waited for her to answer. “You gonna tell me what you did here that made you need to escape?”

She shook her head as she chewed. Her body language was casual and easy but a hard glint had returned to her eyes.

“Now you care? I seem to remember Ammo telling me, no promising me that if I needed anything to call you or the club,” she scoffed, shooting me finger quotes and rolling her eyes to show her disdain. “A lot of good that did me when you didn’t answer calls or stop in to check on me.”

I wanted to shout that she was wrong, but she wasn’t. We’d dropped the ball where she was concerned and now unease settled low in my gut like a ball of lead as I imagined the worst shit she could’ve gotten up to as a girl in sin city. But I needed to know. “So?”

“So you don’t get to know, Savior.” She shook her head like she was explaining something simple to an idiot. “You had a chance to know and you didn’t care. I did what I had to in order to survive, and I did. But that’s the past.”

I didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit, but I also knew she was right. I would let her hang on to her secrets, for now, but not for long. “Does how you survived have anything to do with those assholes in the parking lot?”

She nodded and nibbled her lip, her eyes dancing all around the living room, everywhere but at me. I knew she could feel the weight of my stare on her, mostly because less than two feet separated us, but also because I could see the pink stain on her skin and the way her pulse fluttered in her neck. “This chick I knew back then helped me get an I.D. so that I could . . .”

She paused and I thought I might have lost her but she picked up her story again.

“. . . take care of myself,” she said vaguely. Now that I’m back she wants me to do one more job for her and I won’t do it. Those assholes were trying to convince me to change my mind.”

Fuck, that was a lot worse than I thought. The guilt piled on top of my fear. We should have been there for her. If it had been any of us, Ammo would have barged in and made sure she had healthy fucking meals and did her homework. He would have been there in all the ways we hadn’t been for her. I knew what women did to survive in Vegas, hell all around the world, and the thought she might have done that, made me sick to my stomach. Made my skin burn with anger. “You got more beer?”

She stood like she hadn’t just dropped a major fucking bomb that had my head spinning.

“Unlikely. Those two were a fluke,” she said as she disappeared into the kitchen again. “I have vodka and I have rum. There’s probably tequila in the freezer but you can’t have that. It’s mine.”

That pulled a laugh from me. “Stingy with your booze, Mandy?”

“Your guilt doesn’t deserve tequila. It gets rum or vodka, take your pick.” She held a bottle in each hand but my gaze was drawn to the stiff peaks of her nipples poking through the fabric of her shirt. My mouth watered.

“Fine, I’ll take the vodka.”

She sat on the floor across from me and grinned as she set the bottle and two tumblers o

n the table, haphazardly pouring odd amounts in each glass. “The first shot is the numbing agent.”

I eyed the so-called shot skeptically. “That’s at least two shots.”

“Okay booze police, drink what you can. Grandpa.”

Fuck that. I lifted the glass to my lips and let the cool liquid burn my insides. “At least it’s the good shit. Now, tell me what you did to survive.”

She grinned, the first genuine smile I’d seen from her in a long damn time. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

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