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This is my life.
This is just my life.
And how dare I be ungrateful for it?
A knock bangs against the alley door, and I throw down the piping bag I’ve been filling and stomp toward the sound. My heart feels like a cracked egg. It’s leaking sadness instead of yolk. I yank the door open, not bothering to look at whoever’s outside. Some persistent customer, probably, or a delivery to the wrong address. I haven’t ordered anything.
“I’m sold out for the day.” I snap the words into the rain, already pushing at the door. “Sorry about that. There’s nothing left. We open tomorrow at—”
A hand blocks the door from closing. “I don’t care if you’re sold out.”
The sound of Gabriel’s voice sends painful heat from head to toe, as if he’d opened all the ovens at once. He stands just outside the threshold, holding the door open with one big hand.
He’s soaking wet.
His dark hair. His crisp shirt. His dark suit pants.
All of him is waterlogged.
But his green eyes are bright, even in the rain. They glow like my favorite oven’s pilot light. Always on, even when it’s being temperamental. There’s an angry, determined set to his beautiful mouth.
Angry atme?
My heart races. Gabriel’s the one standing in the rain, but I feel every drop. It’s a shock to see him here. I never seemto expect him, but here he is. I’m trying to avoid high society. I’m trying to avoid everyone from that world. I’m trying to avoid deep emotions, but there he is. He’s always turning up, handsome and intense. He’s always making me remember there were good parts of the world I left behind.
“What are you doing here?”
Gabriel pushes the door open another inch and digs into his pocket with his free hand. “I wanted to give you this. It’s no big deal, but I thought you’d want to know.”
It’s a slip of paper, damp to the touch.
I unfold it and find a man’s name in neat print. It doesn’t ring any bells. There’s an address underneath. A phone number. A birthdate. I read all of it three times before I meet Gabriel’s eyes. “Who is this?”
“The guy who took Lydia to the party. The one who brought weed to school.” The muscle at the side of Gabriel’s jaw works. It’s rain, not a thunderstorm, but I swear a lightning bolt flashes through his eyes. “This isn’t some high school pothead, Elise. He’s actually dangerous.”
“How do you know?”
“That’s what I do. I find things out. I trade in information.”
Yes, I know that. But why would he do it for me? Is it because he cares about me? No, that feels impossible. It can’t be that. My uncertainty makes me want to fight. “What am I supposed to do with this? Go to his house and do vigilante justice for leaving my sister at a party?”
“Warn her. Tell her who he is. Tell your mom if you think she’ll listen. Your sister isn’t safe with him. Something’s going to happen. Something worse than abandoning her with a bunch of pricks at a party.”
I didn’t agree with my mom before. Now, with this paper in my hands, I have the sinking feeling that she was right. “Why doyou care? Is this some kind of good samaritan act? Or maybe it’s a bribe.”
“I don’t want anything from you, Elise.”
The words ring false. “You’re lying,” I whisper, but I don’t know what he wants. From the dark, stormy look in his eyes, I’m not sure he does either.
I take a shaky breath.Focus on Lydia. She needs you.
Facing Gabriel feels like facing down a god.
I take my phone out of my pocket, snap a photo of the paper, then put both of them on the countertop.
My lips buzz like they’ve been soaked in sugar and nerves. “Thank you. For the name. But I don’t understand why you bothered to look into it.”
“There’s nothing to understand. I went to that piece-of-shit house and threatened people until they told me what I wanted to know. Then I followed up with some of my contacts. Now you know, too.”
