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“Har har. Very funny. I’m not that skinny.”

“No,” she agrees. “You’re not, not anymore. Congratulate Joel for me. He feeds you well.”

And now I feel like a kid. A strange, unusual feeling that leaves me unsteady, torn between pissy and happy.

Damn.

“Don’t wear out your man,” I tell her as I step out, the wind slapping me in the face like a frozen hand. “Be gentle.”

“Shut up,” Donna mutters as she locks up. “And if you say a word about his age, I’ll punch you.”

“Wasn’t gonna say anything about his age,” I say, “but what about yours?”

I hurry away before she has a chance to make good on her promise, and I grin as the wind carries her curses to me for a good long while. Then I brace my shoulders against the cold and trudge on home, definitely awake.

That’s when the thought strikes me, making me falter in my steps: Oh shit, I hope she doesn’t fire me again.

***

My cell phone starts ringing as I close the building door behind me and start up the stairs, shivering so hard I think my teeth will shake loose.

I hate the cold.

I stab at the Answer button on my phone, missing it twice, my fingers numb. “Yeah?”

“Jet. How’s it going, man?”

It takes me a long moment to place the voice. Haven’t heard it more than once or twice since I came out of the hospital. Plus, he’s out of breath.

r /> “Rid? That you?”

“In the flesh.”

It’s Riddick, my older cousin. It was at their house that I crashed after Mom died. They don’t live that far now—him, and his younger brother, Xavier. They moved out of their parents’ house two years ago.

Calling me shouldn’t start the alarms in my head—he’s always checked up on me, and he’s the one who warned me when Dad came to town.

But maybe that’s what’s gotten those alarms ringing like mad. Simple association.

Also, I’ve been worried about him and Xavier. If I hadn’t still been shaken from the attack, with the added bonus of extra-bloody nightmares, I’d have called him myself by now.

“How are things?” I ask when he doesn’t speak for a long moment. “How is your bro?”

I start climbing up the stairs, needing the movement to warm up my frozen body. I can’t feel my nose and I hope it won’t drop off tonight. It’s a good nose. I feel attached to it and I’d like to keep it.

Note to self: next time it’s so cold and windy, take up Donna’s offer for a goddamn ride home.

Also, don’t wait so long to check on your cousin that you’re afraid of the next words coming out of his mouth.

“We’re okay,” he says casually, and I heave a sigh of relief.

Wait. That was said too casually for someone who’s been riding an edge as bad as mine for so long.

“How’s your mom?”

“Hey, Jet…” He clears his throat. “Can I come over? Just to talk to you about something.”

That stops me in my tracks—and the fact that he hasn’t replied hasn’t escaped my attention. “When?”

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