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“Here’s thirty-five. All I got on me.” He gave me a smile full of perfect white teeth that bumped up his looks from attractive to lethal. “I’ll hit up Pops Knox. He’s always down for spotting some green.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He gave me a gentle shove. “Now get lost, fighter girl.”
Fighter girl. God. His using the name Tray had given me poured more kerosene in the wound.
“Thank you.” I made it to the street before the tears started again.
They lasted for the few blocks I walked before trying to hail another cab. By then a plan had begun to form. I couldn’t be a normal friend or…girlfriend to anyone. I couldn’t sit calmly in waiting rooms with my neat, non-bloody face and hands and wait patiently for news. I definitely couldn’t act like a regular woman regarding clothes or relationships or sex.
But I could fight.
I dragged out my phone and pressed the button for Carly’s number.
“Did you hear about Fox?” Her voice pitched. “Did you find his parents?”
For the millionth time, I counted my lucky stars that I’d been given such a strong, perfect sister. She knew how to react in every circumstance. Maybe if I watched her more closely, someday I’d figure out how to mimic regular human reactions too.
“I found his parents. No word on him yet though. I’m on the way to his place to take care of his puppy.”
“A dog? Oooh, what kind?” Her excitement vibrated over the line. “Where does Fox live? I’ll meet you there.”
“Carly Ann, it’s past midnight.”
“I need to see you with my own eyes to make sure you’re all right. Now give me the damn address.”
I smiled and told her where to go, but stopped her right before she disconnected. “Wait. I need another number.”
“Jesus. Now who’re you calling? The fucking prez?”
Though I didn’t appreciate her tone, I left that battle for another day. Lifting my hand toward the row of cabs at the curb, I gritted my teeth. “His name is Giovanni Costas.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tray
Voices crawled through my brain. Some cross, some soft and soothing. All of them disrupting my sleep.
Sleep was so very good. I’d just keep sleeping forever. No decisions to make. Nothing to worry about. No one to miss.
“He’s coming to.”
No, I wasn’t. I wouldn’t come to if that voice was waiting on the other side. My mother’s sharp nasally tones were not what I wanted to hear. Ever.
I wanted—
“Fuck,” I rasped, suddenly violently thirsty. I started to choke and someone pushed a cup to my mouth. I drank and drank some more. Then I passed out again.
That pattern repeated itself a couple times until I finally woke up and actually opened my eyes. Once I managed to get them to focus, almost, I promptly closed them again.
“I saw that, Tray.” My father rustled the paper as he folded it in his lap. “You’re awake, so stop pretending you’re not.”
Words jumbled in my head. I knew what I wanted to say, sort of, but when I opened my mouth, what came out was a version of [email protected])#. At least that was my best guess. From my father’s expression—yes, I’d opened my eyes again, masochist that I am—he wasn’t too impressed with my verbal skills.
“Try that again.”
His patient tone earned a snarl. At least I could still make noises.
