Vigilant
Author: Angel Lawson
Date: 2013-04-23 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Fantasy; Adult
Description: Who will protect the citizens of Glory City? Ari Grant spends her days helping the troubled youth of Glory City, and her nights trying to feel something other than the cold numbness that has settled in her bones. For years, she satisfies this urge with trips to the tattoo parlor or late night clubbing, but everything changes when she becomes a victim of an armed robbery. She manages to escape notice from the gunman, a former client, but only because she's saved by Glory City's own Vigilante. A hooded man who has impeccable timing when it comes to those in need. It seems Ari isn't the only one

Text Copyright © 2012 Anna Benefield

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publication.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Lawson, Angel
Vigilant/Angel Lawson-1st ed.
ISBN-13: 978-1484187210

ISBN-10: 1484187210

1. Urban Fantasy
2. Adult Fiction

Book Cover by Samantha Marrs - AngstyG.com

TO THE YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN

WHO HELPED INSPIRE THIS STORY.

ONE

What kind of person robbed a hardware store?

That was Ari’s first thought as she lay on the cold dirty floor. Her second was to keep her eyes down and away from the armed robbers.

The linoleum floor felt cool under Ari’s cheek. Once white, it now had a filthy, grayish tint. She tried not to think about the last time it had been cleaned. Not that that was her big worry at the moment, anyway. She focused on the men running through the store, shouting orders and making demands.

Ari took a deep breath, exhaling hot air across the slick floor producing a light sheen of fog. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her. Ari spent her days working with the criminals of this city, and now, on her day off, she walked into the middle of an armed robbery at her neighborhood hardware store. It was only a matter of time before she became a victim to Glory City’s incredibly high crime rate. Again.

A noise nearby reminded her that she wasn’t alone in her position on the floor. She looked at the customer closest to her. His panicked eyes darted around, while he clutched a sliver wrench in his hand. Great, she thought, this guy was going to get killed over a leaky pipe.

She’d been shopping in the tool aisle, looking for a Phillips head screwdriver when the armed robbers burst through the front door, yelling and making demands. Like everyone else, she dropped to the floor, never looking back at the men, because if working with a full caseload of juvenile delinquents had taught her anything, it was to never be able to identify an attacker. Instead, she put her head down, allowing her short hair to obscure her face, and she listened to the robbers demand money from shoppers.

They roamed the aisles. Well, at least some of the aisles. Multiple voices had shouted when they’d entered the store and Ari had caught a glimpse of at least two guys. At the moment, though, it seemed clear there were more than that. She heard two across the store fighting with an employee while at least two others trolled through the aisles.

“Give me your wallet.”

“Here…take it…” said a trembling voice on the other side of the shelf.

Ari heard feet shuffling and raised voices near the counter. The cashier cried out, something about not having a key to the safe. A loud thwack echoed through the store. Ari flinched at the sound of metal against flesh.

As the struggle continued over the locked safe, the other men patrolled the rows of hardware, stopping at each customer asking for their money and jewelry. The escalation in violence kick-started Ari’s heart and she began to panic, too. As the men came closer to her row, she looked at the antique diamond ring on her right hand, and with a resolved ‘hell no’ under her breath, slipped the ring off her finger and shoved it in her mouth, pushing it into her cheek with her tongue.

She nudged her purse in front of her face. They could take her money—the little bit that was in there. She just wanted to get out of here alive. For five years Ari worked as a caseworker for Glory City. The job had taught her several things: always pay attention; never turn her back, not even for a minute; and always wear shoes she can run in. She flexed her toes in her black leather boots and cursed the blind spot she had from her position on the floor. Congratulations Ari, at least you have two of the three…

Her self-congratulatory thoughts dissipated and her heartbeat quickened as the footsteps came closer to her row. She glanced up and caught sight of the stocking cap and shaggy hair hanging out from underneath. She knew that kid. Jace Watkins. He wasn’t on her caseload but he’d been in the office. He had a reputation and Ari could have sworn he’d been remanded over to the adult system and had been in prison. Obviously not, because he was definitely one of the robbers. He turned his head, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked.

Crap.

She’d broken rule one.

Trying not to freak, Ari braced herself for Jace’s approach, running her tongue along her grandmother’s ring for confidence and pressing her palms flat against the floor. Maybe he didn’t recognize her.

That thought was short-lived as a pair of boots kicked her bag aside and warm, calloused hands wrapped around her mouth. Another hand grabbed onto the waist of her jeans from behind. Ari’s body slid across the floor backwards. She fought back, twisting and kicking, trying to make contact. Whoever had their hands on her was too strong and very fast.

The four rules Ari just thought about vanished because there was one rule that trumped all the others.

Never get moved to a second location.

Past the point of panic, Ari bit the inside of her attacker’s palm. He cursed but didn’t move his hand. She heard a low whisper in her ear, “Trust me.”

“Screw you!” Ari yelled, or tried to, into his hand.

A commotion across the store made Ari jerk her head in that direction. Four guys ran through in baseball caps and sunglasses. Jace held a gun to an elderly man’s head and asked him for keys to the office.

Four? The guy who had her was a fifth. Not one she’d counted before and not one seeming to work in conjunction with the others.

Her abductor stopped at the back of the store and hoisted her against his chest. Ari’s mouth was still covered, but she watched as his free hand covered the door handle. The muscles in his forearm flexed as he twisted it and again, she noticed how strong he was. Her eyes widened as the knob stopped at the locking point, but he continued rotating until there was a sharp crack, breaking the metal off in his hand.

He swung the door open and pushed her inside a small, cluttered closet, lit by a single blub hanging from the ceiling. Ari turned quickly, looking for an escape, but he had her blocked. Anger welled up inside her chest, surpassing the fear. But, instead of a gun-wielding criminal, Ari found herself face-to-face with him.

He wore a baseball cap under a thick black hooded sweatshirt. The brim shaded much of his face and Ari couldn’t see his eyes. All the same, she knew it was him. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing muscular brown arms and on his left wrist, she saw a blur of letters tattooed in dark ink.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, working around the ring in her mouth. She spit it into her palm. He ignored her and started to leave. Ari realized he was going back out to the front of the store.

“Hey,” she said, gripping his arm.

He turned sharply and put a finger to his lips. She looked up at his eyes, which were shadowed completely by the bill of his cap. Despite the obscurity, she was mesmerized by the intensity and control brimming from within, and Ari found herself nodding, willing to do whatever he asked her.

“Don’t leave until the police get here,” he said in a gruff voice. He closed the door, leaving only a sliver of light between it and the frame. Ari pressed her back against a wall, catching her breath.

Within moments, Ari heard a loud smashing sound. Shelving? The shouting increased, and the distinct sound of grunts and curses exploded from the other side of the door. Someone was getting their butt kicked for sure; she just hoped it was the bad guys. Ari listened to the fight, wincing here and there as fists landed on flesh, and objects toppled over. The inside of the closet felt increasingly stuffy and hot. Sweat pooled at her lower back from nerves, heat, and the mere fact that she couldn’t see what was going on outside.

She should’ve been scared, but she wasn’t. He was a legend, a myth. Even though she’d never laid eyes on him before, she knew. It was him. Although there were documented accounts of his existence, there was no solid proof. Ari now knew the truth. He was real.

He didn’t have a name. Well, obviously he did but not publicly. He was that guy who walked in the shadows and appeared in the nick of time. He helped drowning babies and appeared out of nowhere to help those in need. He was on the playground when the bad guys tried to sneak away with other people’s kids. He was like Batman or Superman or The Green Arrow, but not the made-up fantasies of men who never grew up and who sketched their heroes into comic books. He was real, and he’d just saved Ari from four armed gunmen.

He was the Glory City Vigilante.

TWO

Ari sat in the familiar office waiting on Detective Bryson. Nothing much had changed since the last time she was there four years earlier, except the pictures of his wife now included two children.

She’d given her statement at the robbery, claiming to have hidden in the closet while the men ransacked the store. She lied in her report, not including any information about the mystery guy singling her out. She wondered if this was why Bryson had asked her to come to the station, or if it was about her parents. He hadn’t said.

“Thanks for waiting,” Detective Bryson said, closing the door behind him. They met when she was twenty-one, when he showed up at her apartment, grim and bearing bad news. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” she answered. “Busy with work.”

He sat behind his desk, shuffling some papers around. When he looked up, he frowned and said, “You cut your hair.”

Ari ran her hand over her short hair. The last time she saw him, her hair went halfway down her back. Now it was short, other than the long pieces she tucked behind her ear. “Spontaneous decision,” she said.

“It looks nice.”

They looked at one another over the top of the desk. Detective Bryson had rich brown skin and pretty, grayish eyes. She barely knew this man at all but he’d seen her at her worst. “So,” she said. “Any particular reason you called me down here?”

“I’ve been assigned to this robbery you witnessed and wanted to ask you some follow-up questions.”

Ari breathed a sigh of relief. Not about her parents. That had been put to rest. She saw no need to open that wound again. Good. “Sure, how can I help you?”

“The report says you didn’t see the guy that stopped the robbery.”

“The mystery man?” Her face reddened when she said the made-up name out loud. “That’s what I call him. You know, since no one knows who he is.” Ari took a deep breath. “No, I didn’t see him. I wasn’t aware there was anyone in the store other than the robbers and the customers.”

“He disabled three of the men, but one got away.”

“Jace Watkins. I recognized him from our office.”

“Do you think this ‘mystery guy’ would have let him go for some reason?”

Ari frowned. “Why would he let him go? Isn’t that kind of his thing? Stopping bad guys?”

“That seems to be his motive but between us, we don’t know what this guy is up to. It’s important for us to cover all angles and get him off the street. Vigilantism is never a good thing. Unfortunately, he’s as much of a suspect as the other men.”

Ari was as pro-police as a person could get, but she didn’t agree about the mystery guy. He seemed to do what the police couldn’t. They had rules and procedures that kept them from catching criminals without wading through a pile of bureaucracy first. Regardless, she kept this opinion to herself. “Well, I didn’t see anything, promise. Once I saw Jace, I hid. I’d worried what would happen if he’d recognized me.”

“Good thinking.” Bryson smiled and flipped the file on the top of his desk shut. “So how have things been for you other than armed robberies and ‘mystery men’?”

“The same. Still living with Oliver and trying to keep the juvies out of trouble. Clearly, our work with Jace Watkins wasn’t much of a success story.” She saw the concern in his eyes and cut him off before he could bring them up. “I’m taking it one day at a time. Or more like one week at a time now, I guess.”

“Good,” he said. He stood up and she did the same, thankful the meeting was over. Ari had no intention of reliving the accident again today, and being with Bryson brought her emotions to the surface.

“It was good to see you,” Ari told him.

“You, too,” he said. “Please let me know if you remember anything, okay?”

“Sure,” Ari said. She left Detective Bryson in his office, hoping she wouldn’t be back at the police station for a long time.

* * *

Ari scrambled up the steep incline of steps to the court house with only minutes to spare. Inside the dated, 1970s style industrial building, she waited in line behind a mother and her three small children, each having to pass through the metal detectors and a search by the security guards before being allowed inside the building.

“Good morning, Carl,” Ari said to the guard, dropping her black leather satchel, keys, and phone onto the conveyer belt. They disappeared behind the curtain and into the x-ray machine.

“Ms. Grant,” he replied and waved the wand over her body. No alarms rang and he allowed her to pass through and gather her things.

“Is she here?” she asked, eyes darting to the courtroom over his shoulder.

He nodded and said, “She just arrived. I saw her Mercedes pull into the parking lot.”

“Thanks.” Ari walked across the crowded waiting area and found a seat near the judge’s chambers. She hoped the wait wouldn’t be long. Judge Hatcher had a notorious reputation for being late, but as Carl had just confirmed, she might be on time that day.

Ari rummaged around in her satchel and pulled out a small stack of paperwork she needed to catch up on. She also took a moment to search the room for Hope’s family. She didn’t see Hope’s father, which wasn’t that surprising, but she thought perhaps her grandmother would make it for the hearing.

Sixteen-year-old Hope had been on Ari’s caseload for over a year. Half feral, she’d spent over nine months at a long-term detention facility for an assault charge. Hope had been out for three months and had been doing well until Ari received a call on Friday night that the girl had been arrested for prostitution.

The idea that Hope sold herself was upsetting, but not a stretch. Almost all the girls on her caseload had prostituted themselves at one time or another. It was a common practice for them. Too common, and this wasn’t the first time Hope had been charged. That had been a while back, and Ari had thought they were past this type of behavior.

Ari opened the file and reviewed the information in preparation for the hearing. It would determine if Hope could return home or if Judge Hatcher would send her to an out-of-home placement—possibly detention.

Twenty minutes later, the bailiff came out of the courtroom and announced Hope’s case. Ari slid her file back into her bag and followed him into the room. She nodded to a different guard before sitting down on the long, narrow bench in front of the judge. Judge Hatcher sat above the room at her podium. She caught Ari’s eye and smiled. The two of them had a history of working together on behalf of Glory’s children. There were days when they each had to be tough and break hearts, but doing so had been a necessary evil. The tiny judge was dark haired and pretty. On first sight, most of the kids thought she’d be easy to manipulate, but they were mistaken.

They had the same misconception about Ari.

For the first year, Ari faked it. Pretending to be tough as nails, but swallowing back the fear and sadness that consumed her daily. Over time, though, she’d realized that the best way to reach them was by providing consistency and a firm approach. They had to know she was there for them—no matter what—but that she would also lock them up in an instant.

Ari wasn’t tiny by any means, but slim and tall. Her short, black, cropped hair, streaked with red made her appear less girly, and she wore her makeup heavy on her eyes, but light everywhere else. Scattered over her body were a dozen tattoos.

The minutes ticked by while the judge spoke quietly with the lawyers, and they all waited for Hope to exit the back hallway and enter the courtroom. The door near the front of the room opened and a corrections officer brought Hope in. Dressed in standard blue coveralls and generic tennis shoes, she shuffled over to the seat behind the defendant’s desk. She looked exhausted and her normally well-kept hair was a tangle of knots at the back of her head.

Ari offered Hope a wary grin but was met with a heavy eye roll and a snarl. Ari stared back, refusing to feel guilty about the girl’s choices. Hope’s reaction wasn’t exactly shocking. Ari cared for her, as much as she could allow herself, but the lifestyle Hope led tipped the scales out of her favor. Not just illegal, prostitution was risky—often deadly. As her probation officer, Ari’s job was to make sure Hope stayed on track and she worked diligently to help her stay in school, get a job, and stay off the streets. Ari couldn’t do that if she was in jail.

With a bang of her gavel, Judge Hatcher announced to the court the start of the hearing, reading Hope’s full name aloud and reciting the numbers of her case. Ari waited in the galley, behind her client. It was now in the hands of the judge to determine Hope’s fate.

* * *

Ari’s job in court, as she informed each of the children when they came on her caseload, was to tell the truth. What she revealed to the judge was really up to them. In this situation, Ari had no choice but to explain to Judge Hatcher that Hope had been in violation of her probation for the last six weeks. She’d missed appointments, broken curfew, and failed to take more than one drug test. Her grandmother called Ari repeatedly expressing concern about Hope staying out all night. The last time they’d spoken, Ari had threatened to put her back on the electronic monitoring bracelet if she didn’t cooperate. Obviously, the threat didn’t work since she disappeared for two weeks before being picked up by police.

As Ari read the handwritten list of violations in her folder to the Judge, she expected Hope to get angry and argue with her—perhaps make a scene. But that was not her reaction at all. Instead she broke down into silent tears and refused to meet Ari’s eye. Atypical for sure. Something was off. The tears were strange, but Hope only made matters worse when she refused to answer Judge Hatcher’s questions.

“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me, Hope,” Judge Hatcher remarked. Hope kept her steely gaze forward, eventually being led from the courtroom for disrespectful conduct.

“Thanks,” Ari said to the guard. She and Hope walked through the heavy steel door to the holding area behind the courtroom.

His huge set of keys jangled against his leg and he said, “I’ll be outside the door. Knock when you’re ready.”

The minute the door shut, Ari turned a sharp eye on her client. Hope had her arms crossed and her chin stuck out in defiance. They stared at one another until Ari finally said, “What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?” the girl shot back.

“You wouldn’t even talk to Judge Hatcher.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

The look she had on her face was hard as stone. Despite this, Ari wanted more details. “Like she said, we can’t help you unless you tell us the truth.”

“I told you what happened.”

When Hope had been picked up, she’d told detectives and then Ari an elaborate story of being kidnapped off the streets and forced into prostitution. “So you don’t show up for work, you skipped GED class, and you bailed on your aftercare program because you were being held against your will?” Ari asked.

“That’s right.”

“The police picked you up in a cut-out dress and plastic high heels. That sounds a little too familiar.” Ari couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. The job, the classes, the days out of program set them back on all of their goals. Not only that, Hope turned seventeen soon. One more arrest and she was going to jail, not juvie. “You can’t keep playing these games. Since you didn’t defend yourself, Judge Hatcher had no choice but to believe the police.”

“She wasn’t going to believe me anyway. Just like you don’t,” the girl said. Hope and Ari stared at one another until Hope admitted, “I couldn’t leave, Ms. Grant. They locked us in the house. They only let us out to work.”

“Who did this then? Who are you talking about?”

Hope said nothing.

Ari decided to give it another try. “Okay, well where is this house?”

“I don’t know. We only came and went after dark. We all slept in the same room.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“There were other girls there. I didn’t know them.”

“And they were kidnapped, too?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Some seemed to know the men, but maybe they had just been there longer.”

“The arresting officer said you were alone on the street. Why didn’t you run away then?”

Another look of defiance crossed her face and Hope didn’t reply. Ari threw her hands in the air. “I can’t help you if you hold stuff back.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

Hope blinked a couple of times and turned to face the wall, blocking Ari out.

Ari sighed and sat on the bench that lined the wall. “Hope, you have a history of working the streets and this isn’t the first time you’ve gone missing for more than a couple of days.”

“I’ve been better, though! No tardies or absences!” Rare tears filled Hope’s eyes.

“Not recently, but your file is full of violations. Judge Hatcher may not let you come home this time. She thinks you’ll go back on the street.” Ari shook her head. “I hate to say it, but I agree. You need some time in here to think things over and figure out what you want to do with yourself.”

“I’m not lying!” Hope said.

Ari stood and picked up her bag. “I want to believe you, but you’ve lied to me before.”

Hope went over to the door and kicked it several times, the loud noise bouncing off the metal. “Take me out of here,” she yelled, furious that Ari didn’t believe her. The guard opened the door and grabbed Hope by the arm. She turned to Ari and said, “You just wait, Ms. Grant. They’ll find me in here and you’ll know the truth. This jail can’t stop them.”

The officer led her out of the room and shut the door behind them. Hope continued yelling as they walked away, her voice echoing against the walls. Ari, sat back on the bench and rested her face in her hands, feeling like a complete failure.

* * *

Self-defeat only lasted for a moment.

A knock on the outer metal door brought Ari out of her funk. She composed herself before the door opened, smoothing her hair and taking a deep breath. It was one thing around there to be a caring advocate, but another entirely to be seen as weak. Someone in these kids’ lives had to be strong and usually, that role ended up on Ari’s twenty-six-year-old shoulders.

Nick Sanders opened the door and gave Ari a grin. “You finished in here? Judge Hatcher requested you in her chambers. I just had an appointment with her and I offered to find you.”

“I’m finished.” She picked up her bag and walked toward the out-of-place attorney. Most people who came in and out of Juvenile Court had a tired, rough look about them. Not Nick. He had that all-American glow. Dark blond hair, bright blue eyes and perfectly perfect teeth. He was the knight in shining armor around there. “Any idea what this is about?”

“Not a clue,” he said. Nick worked as a public defender for the kids charged and up for trial. They had worked together on several cases over the last couple of months and had gone out once or twice with people from their combined offices. She liked having a friendly face at court buffering the angry parents and upset children.

“I hope it’s not about Hope’s case. I don’t even know what’s going on with her.”

“What happened?” he asked.“She told me some tale about being kidnapped and forced into prostitution. But when it was time, she wouldn’t get on the stand. Judge Hatcher had no choice but to send her back downstairs since she wouldn’t even defend herself.”

Nick placed his arm around her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You can only do so much. Hope has to take some responsibility.”

“I know that. Honestly, I think she’s lying and trying to make me feel guilty for not supporting her more. Somehow it’s working.”

They stopped outside the brown wooden door with the gold plate across the front that said, “Judge Hatcher.”

“You and I both know that more lies come through this place than truth. Half the time they can’t even help but make something up. It’s habit. All you did was follow procedure. You placed a warrant on her when she failed to go to school and work. Because of that, she was arrested. You’re here to advocate for her but it’s her job to speak up. It’s a hard lesson for these kids to learn.”

Nick offered Ari another smile and that time, she returned it. “You’re right. I’m just letting it get to me today.”

“It’s not a bad thing that you care for your clients, Ari,” he said. “But it’s the hard reality that they can’t always return the emotion. They’re kids. Damaged ones.”

“Stop being so wise, Mr. Sanders. You’re making me seem like a newbie or something.”

“Unlikely. We all know your hardcore. The kids are terrified of being placed on your caseload.”

“Yeah, right,” she laughed, but his accusation held more than a grain of truth. There wasn’t much she was afraid of, anymore.

He raised his hand to the door, but stopped, frowning down at her. “Oh hey, I heard about the robbery. Are you okay?”

Ari nodded. Although the robbery itself was public knowledge, having been covered by the Glory City local news that night, she still hadn’t told anyone about her encounter with the mystery guy other than her roommate, Oliver.

“Yeah, no big deal. I mean it was, but no one was really injured.”

“They said that vigilante was there and caught the guys?”

“I guess. I didn’t see what happened. I hid in a closet. But when the police came, I saw three guys in the police car.”

Just three. The one missing was Jace Watkins. The mystery guy didn’t stop him, and like Detective Bryson, she couldn’t figure out why. Could he have been out-matched by an impulsive former juvenile delinquent?

“Smart move,” Nick said. “Hiding like that. Do you think you’ll get called to court to testify?”

“Not sure. I didn’t see anything, so probably not.”

“I’m glad you got out of there unharmed.” His eyes softened. Not for the first time Ari thought she noticed a bit of interest that went beyond courtrooms and juvenile delinquents.

The look vanished and he poised his hand over the door again. “Ready?”

“Yep,” she said.

A court officer opened the door and escorted Ari into the judge’s office. The small, but intimidating woman sat behind a large desk, going through paperwork.

“Ms. Grant.” She directed her to the chair in front of her desk.

“Mr. Sanders said you wanted to see me?”

“I did,” the judge said, digging through a stack of case files on her desk. She unearthed one and held it up. “Curtis Wilson? Fifteen, petty theft, truancy?”

“He’s one of the few males on my caseload. You know they tend to be a little more hardened and generally female before they end up on my list. He phased out last year, though.” Ari sighed, annoyed he’d gotten into trouble again. “What did he do?”

“Truancy. Running from the police during a routine stop. Not a major offense but with his history, it’s only a matter of time before he escalates,” she explained. “He hasn’t officially been remanded to Juvenile Justice care yet but I’m signing these papers today. He’s headed for trouble and nothing we’ve done so far is helping. I’m requesting you take supervision of his case again.”

This conversation had already taken an unusual turn. Ari had never heard of a judge requesting a caseworker. “Me?” Ari asked. “The review panel tends to decide who gets which cases.”

Judge Hatcher gave Ari a sharp eye. “I’m aware, but this one needs a personal touch. And I want you to see that he gets in a specific placement.”

Ari frowned. Again, Judge Hatcher’s request seemed atypical. “Where do you want him to go?”

“There’s a program called the Glory Youth Center. It’s a sports-oriented program, which I think would be really great for this kid. It’s structured, with residential housing and an excellent staff.”

“The Glory Youth Center? Why haven’t I heard of this?” Ari had clients in residential programs all over the state. None had ever been assigned there.

“The students are generally hand-picked, like I’m doing. They are looking for a specific type of kid to excel in their program. They don’t just accept anyone.”

Ari nodded as though she understood, but really, it was all so unusual. “Can you tell me what Curtis has that makes him a likely candidate for the program? Because although I agree that he’s not a lost cause, he manages to find his way into trouble a lot. He gave me a lot of grief when he was on my caseload.”

Judge Hatcher sat back in her leather chair and pressed her fingers together, making a tent. “Curtis is in an environment that he can’t get out of. His father is dead, his mother has AIDS, and his grandmother just doesn’t have the energy to keep him straight. He’s athletic and has shown that if he’s in a like-minded environment, he can do well.”

“All right. If you think it’s best, I’ll start the paperwork and try to get him funding.”

“The funding has been taken care of. You’ll get the file this week and place him on Monday.”

“Great,” Ari said, working up a smile. “Easiest placement so far.”

“Thank you, Ms. Grant, for helping with this case, and for all the hard work you put in for these kids.”

In a job with low pay and constant heartbreak, a compliment went a long way. Ari raised an eyebrow and said, “Thank you, but I’m not sure I really have another choice, you know?”

Judge Hatcher nodded. “Yes, I know.”

THREE

Ari walked past Rebecca’s desk and scribbled her initials on the sign-in pad. The receptionist sucked on a sugar-free red lollipop—part of her no-smoking-no-candy health change.

“That took a long time,” her friend and coworker said. She barely glanced up from the computer.

“I know.” Ari held up a bag of fast food. “Lunch of champions.”

Rebecca nodded in sympathy and nonchalantly asked, “So how was Mr. Sanders today?”

“Fine,” Ari replied. She knew where this was going. “Professional.”

“I bet he looked handsome in his suit.”

Ari looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. She loved Rebecca, but the girl had a big mouth. “He looked nice. And professional. Strictly professional.”

Rebecca pulled the sucker out of her mouth. “If you say so. Did he invite you to dinner?”

Ari blushed. “No. I barely talked to him at all. Judge Hatcher wanted to talk to me about a client.”

She reached for the stack of pink notes on her desk and waved them in the air. “I think he must have forgotten. He called while you were out. Ten bucks says he asks you to dinner. Alone.”

“Strictly professional,” Ari repeated, grabbing the notes. She walked away from Rebecca’s desk and through the office, stopping at her mailbox where she found three new, thick files. She skimmed the names.

“Darn it, Stanton, I’m not taking on these cases!”

A loud voice sounded from an office down the hall. “Yes, you are!”

The Glory City Juvenile Probation Office was half office, half rehabilitation center. Ari and the other caseworkers had offices in the building, but there was also space for treatment programs and activities for the kids assigned to the caseworkers.

Four other caseworkers and two assistants worked with Ari. Rebecca and Beverly managed the main desk. Shirley worked with first offenders. John provided after-care services, like finding a job or enrolling in school. Mr. Brown had been there for thirty years and Ari expected him to retire at any moment. He had a hodgepodge of cases he managed. Tony carried a caseload of clients in long-term detention. Then there was Stanton, Ari’s supervisor. With the file in her hand, she rushed past the other offices and into his.

She found him bent over files of his own. “No, no more girls. I can’t take it—they’re sucking me dry.”

He looked up and saw Ari’s desperation. “What happened?”

With her bag slung over her shoulder and the heavy stack of files in her hands she moved toward the chair in front of his desk. With little grace, Ari flopped into the seat.

“Ugh, just a crappy day in court. Hope hates me.” She ignored his amused look and continued. “Not like they don’t all hate me, but she thinks I broke her confidence or something. And I’m not sure what’s going on with her—it just made me feel useless.”

Settling into the uncomfortable chair, Ari told him what happened in court and described Hope’s story. Stanton—or really, Quinn Stanton, but everyone at the office called him by his last name—listened to her story while leaning back and rubbing his shiny, bald head. He was the best at what you could be around here—dedicated, calm, hard-working. His clients and the system never got him frazzled like Ari’s cases often made her.

Stanton’s desk chair squeaked as he shifted. “I can understand your reaction, I tend to agree with you—if anything, she was probably trying to get out of the violation.”

“I know, but you know how they usually hate you for getting in their business and forcing them to behave? This wasn’t why she was upset. She was upset because I didn’t believe her. I never believe anything any of my kids say. I’ve been lied to, too many times. Plus, she was so scared. I’ve never seen her afraid—of anything.”

Stanton sighed. “Look, there’s nothing you can do. She violated her contract—not only by being away from home, but also for getting arrested. And if she really is afraid of something, then she probably is safer in the county lockup than anywhere else.” He nodded toward the files in Ari’s lap. “Everything okay then with those new cases?”

Ari narrowed her eyes at him, trying to look fierce. “No, it’s not. I don’t want any more lost girls on my caseload! The abuse and how they sell themselves and the pain and the men and the scars—” Ari sighed, cutting off her argument. Everything about that day felt hopeless…but there was nothing she could do but try her best. It was her job.

Stanton’s dark brown eyes lit up a little. “You do a good job, Ari. These girls trust and need you—even if it’s just for the short period they’re in our custody.”

Under the weight of her bag and files, Ari struggled to her feet. She shot him a false look of anger. “Way to hit me in my soft spot, Boss.”

Laughter bounced off the walls and he picked up his pen to continue working. Ari heard him mutter as she walked out the door and down the hall to her office, “Not my fault you’re a sucker.”

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur of phone calls and paperwork—something Ari rarely had the opportunity to do. Most days she was either in the field, visiting homes or placing a child in residential care. Not to mention the days spent traveling across the state to check on clients in long-term lockup. But that afternoon, her calendar was relatively free so she took the opportunity to catch up on some work and leave on time.

Ari lived close to the office—only a short commute of about ten minutes without traffic. That night she made it home easily, pulling her car onto her tree-lined street and parking in her driveway. She loved her house. The porch and swing, the leaded glass windows, the historic door. The Craftsman bungalow she purchased a year prior was painted a soothing seafoam green, with buttery-yellow trim. It was small—only a thousand square feet, two bedrooms and one bath, a tiny galley kitchen, but it was hers. She shared it with a roommate—one she chose to help make the mortgage payments, and for safety. Plus, he was Ari’s best friend.

Removing her bag and the paperwork from the car, she left the doors unlocked before climbing the porch steps and pushing her key into the deadbolt. Living in a neighborhood like this, one learned things, like to never lock car doors. If someone wanted to break into a car, it was best to just let them. No need to pay for glass repair. Before Ari could get the door open, two cats wove around her legs. Another rule of the neighborhood: never feed a stray cat.

Oliver wasn’t home yet. He worked at a law firm downtown and his commute was harder and longer. After changing, Ari set about making dinner. By the time he arrived thirty minutes later, she had two plates of pasta ready.

“Thank God!” he muttered, as he walked in and smelled dinner. “Have I told you how much I love that you cook? ’Cause I do. I was going to order pizza and cheese fries.”

“Wait…” Ari asked in mock seriousness. “That’s an option? ’Cause really, this can save for later.”

Oliver disappeared to his room and came out two minutes later in shorts and a stain-covered T-shirt. His blond hair was no longer business tidy, but disheveled. The messy hair better represented his personality. A little wild. Definitely silly. And very hot. “Nope sorry, my ass—”

“Language,” she called in warning. She’d instituted a no-cussing policy once she started with the juvies. Teaching by example, or something like that.

“Sorry, my booty is hitting that sofa and isn’t moving until I’ve watched three hours of bad reality TV programming.” He swung by the kitchen and grabbed drinks and utensils while Ari brought the plates to the living room.

Flipping on The Bachelor, Ari knew she was lucky to have Oliver. He was game for anything as long as it involved food or a good time. He kept his mess in his room, paid his bills on time, and generally didn’t pry into Ari’s life. He was good-looking in a scruffy, shaggy-haired, one-night-stand kind of way. Fortunately for Ari, their friendship outlasted the awkwardness of their own one-night stand.

“So you’re not going out tonight?” she asked between forkfuls of pasta.

“Nah, I’ve got nothing going on, and work? It’s kicking my ass a little.”Ari smacked him again for his language.

Oliver and Ari met in graduate school. He was in law school while she majored in social work. They both found jobs pretty easily and where Ari worked long hours for little reward, Oliver worked long hours for a shot at a big office with a nice view. Sometimes, she wasn’t quite sure it was fair trade. Okay really, it definitely wasn’t a fair trade.

Oliver set his plate on the coffee table and glanced away from the TV. “What about you? Plans?”

Ari also pushed her plate aside and pulled her knees to her chest. She casually confessed, “Rebecca thinks Nick is going to ask me out to dinner.”

“Did he?”

Ari leaned back against the couch. “No, but I would have said no if he did. It was a long day and I’d rather be here.”

Oliver snorted. “Yeah, good try. He’s okay, though. I never heard any bad stories about him.”

Oliver and Nick had been classmates in law school, although the only thing Oliver could tell her was that Nick was a top student and good at basketball. Typical Oliver with the complete lack of details.

“I suggested getting together this weekend, but I don’t know. Even though I worked at my desk all afternoon, I’m still behind.”

They cleaned up from dinner and Oliver got out his briefcase and began working on some files in front of the television. Ari paced a bit, bored and antsy. All the drama from the day had taken its toll. No way could she get to sleep anytime soon. Half her dreams involved finding a client dead, the other, monotonous cycles of running through the courthouse trying to find the right room, afraid she was late. A year before, she and Oliver would have been out at that hour, drinking or dancing even though it was a work night. But he wanted a promotion and spent a lot of extra time working for it.

“You know, I think I may go to the gym before it gets too late,” Ari said. She’d joined the twenty-four-hour one due to her erratic schedule.

“Now?” Oliver didn’t even look up from his paperwork.

“Yeah, I need to work off some of this stress.”

Ari went to her room and grabbed her gym bag. She stuffed it with everything she needed—combat boots, cargo pants and a black tank. She could work this stress out at the gym, or she could work it out on the dance floor.

“Be careful,” Oliver said.

“I will,” she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

* * *

Ari changed in the backseat of her car in club parking lot. Once she was inside and had a drink in her system, she immediately felt better. Glorious, a dance club deep in the industrial district, had been their favorite hangout before she and Oliver “grew-up.” She still loved the way the loud, thumping music echoed against the warehouse walls, vibrating into her skin. It was just what she needed. Mind-numbing music to take the insanity of the day away.

It wasn’t the first time she’d snuck out on Oliver looking for a release. He had no idea she came here alone at night, and she was sure he’d be shocked to find out. All she wanted was some time alone with the loud music and to work up a good sweat. Better than jogging on a treadmill for an hour.

“Hey girl, wanna dance?”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Looking for something? Someone? Me?”

The pickup lines came and Ari skirted past them all, smiling at the guys, but kept her eyes jaded. That’s not what she came for. At least not on purpose.

The only offer she entertained was a dance. Of her choosing. They had to already be on the dance floor. Feeling the music on their own. Male or female. It didn’t matter. All she wanted was a dance partner, maybe the heat of skin next to hers.

The energy shift on the floor was fast, the hip-hop music turning decidedly rap. She looked over her shoulder and saw a guy doing a handstand, challenging gravity in some kind of breakdance move.

“What’s this?” she yelled at the girl next to her. “Break dancing?”

“Kind of,” she said. “It’s this parkour thing? Freerunning.You know, the flips and stuff?”

Ari had seen it before—on the Internet. Crazy guys leaping from rooftops and taking backflips off subway walls.

“There’s a group of guys that do it here in the city. Occasionally, they show up in clubs like this.” Both women watched as another guy joined in doing a series of choreographed back handsprings. “They’re hot right?”

Ari snorted. Hot was an understatement. The strength required to do the tricks was obvious, as were the muscles under their shirts. “Holy crap,” Ari said, seeing the tight stomach on one of the guys peeking out from under his shirt. He flipped from his back to an upright position and his dark eyes met hers.

The song ended and the guys were swallowed into the crowed. Ari tried to find them, any of them, but there were too many people clogging up the dance floor. She checked her watch and saw it was near one. She needed to go soon so she wouldn’t be a zombie at work the next day, but she’d just started to relax.

She reentered the dance floor and got lost in the throng of dancers. A couple guys tried to grab her arms but she shook them off, uninterested. She knew whom she was looking for. Mating and dating and anything of the sort could only be called a game. Chasing was part of the thrill. Ari had more pride than to chase a guy down in a bar, but four years of partying during college taught how to lure one out.

Ari spotted him in the middle of the floor, dancing with a group of girls in the hazy light. Fangirls from the looks of them. One had her finger in his belt loop, near the button. Another had a fistful of shirt at his side. Possessive much?

Spinning away from him, Ari found the closest guy and began to dance. Nothing dirty, she didn’t want to cross any lines, but her hips swayed to the beat and the guy she’d picked was more than willing to be her partner. He had a shaggy mop of hair, kind of like Oliver’s except it glowed red like a halo in the lights near the stage. Damp with sweat, it fell into his eyes. He brushed it aside and Ari saw the hooped ring through his eyebrow. She moved her head to the music, laughing a little at his skinniness, the way his pants slid off his hips. They were saved by a leather belt.

Ari felt the lightest touch on her back, near the tattoo that peeked out of the top of her shirt. Maybe not even a touch. Perhaps just energy. She didn’t look. She wouldn’t dare. Not yet.

What she did do was shift her body backwards, not enough to touch the guy behind her, but enough to enter his zone. Despite their lack of physical contact, the guy behind her must have put off quite the vibe, because the boy in the droopy pants figured it out quick enough, giving Ari a little wave before turning toward another girl.

The tempo notched up again and Ari moved closer to her new partner, yet never touching or speaking. Her chest shuddered with each beat, releasing the stress from her body. She wanted to exhaust herself, forget about armed robbers and child prostitution. She closed her eyes and danced.

The song shifted and Ari turned. She opened her eyes taking in the man in front of her. Shaved head. Light brown skin. Tall and slim, but ripped. She’d seen his abs before. The way he looked at her in return set her stomach on fire, and she ached to feel his hands on her skin. Something hard to cut away at the numbness. She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head just a bit. Then she left the dance floor.

It was impossible to tell which beat harder, her heart or the music. Ari made her way through the crowd. She’d never done anything like this without a wingman—someone to keep an eye out and make sure there wasn’t any trouble. She liked to have fun, but her job made her aware of the dangers lurking in seedy bars and dark dance clubs.

Yet, she couldn’t seem to make herself care. Not now.

Pushing past the bar, Ari made her way to a dark corner. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and sure enough, he’d followed her. Dark-eyed and dangerous.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

“I saw you out there, doing that stuff, the parkour?”

“Yeah.”

Ari considered that he might be stupid or slow or something, but the smile on his face said otherwise. He knew what she wanted.

“I just…you know…don’t ever…”

“Right.” He nodded. “Me—”

Desperate, she cut him off, grabbing at him with needy hands. Her fingers wove into the cotton of his shirt and she pulled him forward, kissing him on the mouth. The connection felt like a jolt of electricity running through her veins, melting the numbness, bringing her to life in the most dangerous way. She didn’t care, and obviously, neither did he, because his hands lifted her up, pressing her back into the wall.

The murky light formed a shade around them, the club-goers a curtain of protection. Ari, and this stranger, lost themselves in the throbbing music and one another.

FOUR

Ari woke the next day feeling like she’d been run over by a truck. She couldn’t blame it on alcohol, just the lack of common sense and some kind of lust-driven desperation.

After taking a scalding hot shower, Ari traded the combat boots and low-cut jeans from the night before, for more conservative work clothes.

“Hopefully I scrubbed the skank off my skin,” she said into the mirror, but she still felt the lingering effects of the club. The feeling of his hands on her body.

Exhausted and sleep deprived, she still felt more awake than she had in months. She didn’t know if it was from the thrill of taking risks, or from him. A shiver ran down her arms when she thought about it—him. She suspected she knew the answer.

Too bad she didn’t know his name.

No one at work noticed that her lips were still swollen and chapped from sucking face with a stranger the night before, or if they did, they politely kept it to themselves. That’s all they did. Make out. A little groping and dry humping in the back hallway. There was no tell-tale “slut” sign on her forehead, but she closed herself in her office anyway to avoid questions.

With the noise of the office blocked out, Ari focused on Curtis Wilson’s file. She’d found it in her inbox when she’d arrived. Judge Hatcher wasted no time, that was for sure. She thought she had ’til Monday. Ari knew she shouldn’t complain. Having a jumpstart on placement and funding made all this easier, but the situation was so unconventional she couldn’t help but question the judge’s motives.

A note stuck to the top of the file included directions to the center and an appointment time. Ari checked her watch.

“Great.”

She had two hours. That didn’t give Ari much time to release Curtis from detention and get him to the program. Or to stop at the coffee shop. That one little sticky note dramatically changed the flow of her day. She rushed to gather her things, stopping by the front desk to sign out.

“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked.

“Down to the Glory Youth Center. I have a placement there for a new client.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Me either,” Ari said. “Judge Hatcher specifically requested this kid go there, so I’m just following directions. It must be a lower-risk level facility or something? Or maybe somewhere new? I’ll find out today.”

“Okay.” Rebecca narrowed her eyes and studied Ari closely. “You look different today. Did you do something to your hair?”

“Um…I washed it?” She hoped her face wasn’t as red as the streak in her hair.

“Smart ass,” she muttered, resuming her typing. “Check in later today. I’ll forward your messages.”

Ari waved and pushed the exterior door open, leaving the office behind.

* * *

The first group home visit Ari made when she started her job brought her to tears. Not because of the kids or the situations or the home itself, but because the director of the home lectured her for an hour. He rambled on and on about how it was society’s fault, and therefore her fault, that these children had been left behind.

At twenty-three, fresh in her first week of work at her “real” job, Ari had been overwhelmed by the bluntness of the director. On the way out the door, holding back big fat traitorous tears, Ari’s coworker explained that the director had spent the first half of his adult life in the military and suffered the effects from his many years of service. The man loved working with the kids, but he wasn’t that great with adults.

Back then, Ari cried about everything. Her parents’ death made her vulnerable and raw. Over time, those scars were covered by a hard numbness. That first day toughened Ari so that now, as she and Curtis arrived at the Glory Youth Center, she figured she could handle whatever was inside waiting for them.

“You heard of this place?” she asked Curtis.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

He shrugged in reply and Ari bit her tongue. “I don’t know,” meant, “I don’t care.”

She found the building easily and wondered how she’d never noticed it before. Granted, they were in an industrial area. The building was mixed in between older homes and empty buildings. The outside was clean—no, spotless. The parking lot tidy, including the area near the chain-link fence that surrounded the property. Ari opened the car door and said to the boy in the passenger seat, “Grab your stuff.”

The full extent of Curtis’s belongings fit into a manila envelope and the clothing he wore when he’d been arrested. Ari hadn’t had time to go by his home to see if there were any personal items he could have used. That would have been doubtful anyway. Odds were, the minute he got locked up, his clothing spread throughout the rest of the family.

“I’m supposed to live here?” he asked. Curtis was only fifteen, but carried himself like he was older, like so many of these kids. They were forced to grow up fast. Lean and fit, Curtis was very big for his age. Ari knew before he’d started skipping school he’d been active in sports. The police had documented more than once that he was a skilled runner. He just needed to learn how to use that power for good and not evil.

“I’ve never been here,” Ari told him in a stern voice. “But this is a last-chance stop. Whatever it is, it’s better than detention, which is where you’re headed next.”

Curtis slipped behind his case manager as she walked into the building.

“Oh, wow,” she said, knocked in the face by the overpowering smell. Soon though, even the rank stench was eclipsed by the sounds.

The boy stepped in front of Ari with his eyes wide and said, “No fucking way.”

Ari’s head snapped in his direction, but she didn’t scold him as she normally would have. She felt just as stunned. Her senses were assaulted by sweat and rubber, combined with a muggy, damp heat. And the sounds. Well, it sounded like someone was getting beaten to death.

“What the hell is this?” Curtis said, pushing Ari’s limit on foul language.

“Cut the cussing, Curtis,” she said. “A gym, I suppose?” But it was more than a gym. There were four boxing rings in the center of the building and rows of weights and cardio machines along each side. Near the front door, a huge trophy case held dozens of gold trophies, each with a tiny boxer or fighter on the top. Ari saw a dozen or so guys of various ages working out around the gym.

A long countertop ran along the barrier between the gym and the entry area. Hanging on the wall was a large sign with the letters GYC, and the name: Glory Youth Center. Ari spotted a young man folding towels and placing them in a stack.

“Come on,” she said to Curtis. They approached the counter and she introduced herself to the kid.

“I’m Ari Grant. I’m here to meet a—” she pulled the note out of her pocket. “Mr. Davis. We have an appointment at eleven.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy replied. “Let me tell him you’re here.” He looked a little older than Curtis, maybe seventeen or so. Broad shouldered and muscular. He had a bandage over his eye and quickly disappeared around the corner, away from the gym floor.

Curtis studied a row of photographs behind the counter. He glanced at Ari. “So you want me to come work out or something? I thought this was a home.”

Before Ari could answer, or not answer since she had no idea, the boy came back followed by a handsome man. His dark hair was shaved close to his head and when his eyes met Ari’s everything went from normal to very, very awkward.

“Ms. Grant, thank you for coming.”

“Of course,” she said, waiting for the moment of recognition.

It never came.

Okay. So only awkward for Ari. Did he not recognize her? She recognized him. And, she realized, squinting a little, she also recognized that hickey under his ear.

His eyes remained friendly but held steady on the boy, ignoring Ari altogether. “I’m Davis,” he said, offering his hand, throwing Curtis off a little. “Welcome to the Glory Youth Center.”

Curtis tentatively took his hand and shook it. Mr. Davis gripped Curtis’s hand so tightly she saw the long muscle flex in his forearm.

This man didn’t play. Ari liked him immediately. Well, obviously.

“Mr. Davis, can you tell us a little more about your facility? This is the first time I’ve had a client accepted into your program,” Ari said. If he could act nonchalant so could she. She looked around the gym. “It’s definitely different.”

“How about a tour?” he asked.

“Sounds great,” she said, thankful to have the buffer of Curtis in this increasingly awkward situation. Unfortunately, Mr. Davis surprised her when he called to the boy by the front counter and waved him over.

“This is Keith,” he said. “I’m going to let him walk Curtis around and give him the resident tour so you and I can talk about his placement. Is that okay?”

Ari gave Curtis a long look. She thought she knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t try to make a run for it or make other trouble, but she didn’t want to risk it. Mr. Davis must have noticed her hesitation.

He said, “Curtis will be in good hands with Keith. There are staff members all over the facility and there are no unalarmed exits.” He turned his attention to Curtis and said, “I can trust that there will be no problems?”

Curtis shifted on his feet. “No.”

“No, sir,” Mr. Davis prompted.

The man and boy held a long stare. Curtis broke first.

“No, sir,” he replied, trying to avoid eye contact. Mr. Davis bent his head a little to make sure they saw eye-to-eye.

“Meet you two back here in thirty minutes,” he said, nodding to Keith. The two boys started the tour in the gym and again, Ari noted how impressed she was with Mr. Davis’s calm, but authoritative demeanor. Did he present that last night? Was that why she was drawn to him? In this business, demanding respect from these kids was the first step toward success. Based on that alone, she understood why his program created results.

Now that the boys were gone, she was alone with this guy. More alone than they had even been the night before. Whatever. If he could pretend, then so could she. Ari surveyed the gym until Mr. Davis held out a hand in the direction of the hallway he’d come from.

“Ready for the tour?”

Ari followed him down the hall, keeping her eyes off his broad shoulders. He pointed out various points of interest along the way. “These are the offices. Besides myself, we have a full-time staff of eight. All men. We take different shifts in the building every two weeks. Four guys are on the gym floor at all times, two back in the dormitory area, and two in the counseling offices.”

“Wow,” Ari said, passing by the well-kept offices. Leather chairs and wood desks. It was a far cry from her state-funded office. “Seems like you have it all together.”

Mr. Davis opened a door at the end of the hallway and they climbed a set of stairs to the second floor. “This is the dormitory. Each boy shares a room with a roommate. No bunks. Individual beds. We assess each child and try to place them with someone who will be a positive influence, although in general, we don’t really have behavior problems here.”

Ari peeked into one of the rooms. Clean and tidy, yet personalized. In her experience, many of the residential facilities prefer the kids to not have their own belongings in the room because it causes problems. This looked more like a college dorm room than a standard group home. “Nice. How do you get them to keep it so clean?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’s part of the rules, and we take our rules and discipline seriously.” He walked down the hall toward a lounge area between two wings. He gestured for her to sit in a chair and he took the one opposite Ari. “At any time, we house twelve to fifteen boys. Our goal is to teach them respect, accountability and how to uncover their talents. Once we discover their natural gifts, we help them cultivate these to become better members of society. The average stay is until age eighteen. Some end up working for us when they complete their time. Most go to college.”

“So, Curtis could be here for the next three years?” Ari wasn’t sure how he would feel about that when he found out.

Mr. Davis nodded. “This is a long-term program. We look for a specific type of offender and commit ourselves to changing their lives.” He turned his eyes on Ari. Her neck itched under the intensity. “You’ve seen the system fail these kids. You know how hard it can be for them, shuffled back and forth between programs. Pawns in political agendas. That’s not what we do here. We are here to make successes out of these young men and make them productive members of society. Between counseling, education, physical activity, and a close bond with the other residents, the GYC has a very high success rate. ”

“How high?”

“About ninety-five percent. We have the occasional kid who isn’t a right fit for us.”

“Ninety-five percent?” Ari tried to keep her jaw off the ground. In her job, twenty-five percent was successful. “And you think Curtis is the right fit?”

Mr. Davis smiled. “I do. Judge Hatcher thinks so, and I’ve reviewed his file. According to our pre-assessment, I think he’ll do very well here.” He stood up. “Let me show you the rest of the building, and we’ll meet back up with the boys and sign contracts and work out any other information we need.”

Ari followed Mr. Davis through the rest of the facility, more impressed with each passing moment. Even so, there was a tiny knot in her stomach with the odd situation between them. Did he truly not recognize her? Maybe it was the conservative work clothes or the well-lit building? She would have thought she’d made up the whole encounter except she could see the small bruise on his neck created from her over-eager mouth. She also hesitated over the theme here; teaching the kids to fight. She wasn’t sure that was the correct way to go about making more peaceful youth. As they walked back down the stairs to meet in Mr. Davis’s office Ari couldn’t shake the feeling, but realized it wasn’t her place to judge. This was work and another assignment. She should just be happy to have another kid off the street and safe.

* * *

Leaving the day behind her, Ari pushed open the door to the restaurant and searched for Oliver. He’d sent her a text around noon suggesting, no—demanding, they meet for drinks and food. Not looking forward to eating a microwaved dinner anyway, Ari eagerly texted back YES! and bolted from the office the second the clock hit six o’clock.

Oliver was nowhere to be seen, but Nick Sanders waved at her from a booth in the corner. Her phone buzzed in her hand. Stopping in the middle of the restaurant, Ari checked the message.

Working late. Sent a replacement.

“Sneaky,” she muttered, slipping the phone into her back pocket. She approached the table with a semi-faux smile on her face. Nick stood when she came to the table and gave her a genuine grin and a kiss on the cheek in return. While hanging up her coat, she raised an eyebrow at the move but said nothing, sliding into the booth seat across from him.

“Thanks for meeting me, since Oliver stood me up,” she said. Ari un-wedged a menu shoved between the napkin holder and the wall.

“He doesn’t like to disappoint you,” Nick said. She noticed his jacket and tie were off and he’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He’d obviously come straight from work, too. “Plus, he and I both agree you work too hard.”

Ari rolled her eyes. “You both work as much as or more than I do. He’s just hoping that a little flattery will trick me into bringing a cheeseburger back home for him.”

“My only roommate is a seventy-five pound chocolate lab. If I brought him home a burger, he would maul me at the front door for it,” Nick laughed.

“And how is that different from Oliver?”

They ordered drinks and Nick went on to talk about his last roommate, a guy who took baths daily with his girlfriend and read Dr. Seuss aloud.

“They read this in the bathtub? Together?” Ari asked, almost spitting out her beer.

“Daily,” he confirmed, fake shuddering at the thought.

“You deserve an award for that. I do have to live with the constant string of women in Nick’s life, including the occasional nut-job long-term girlfriend.”

“Are they always that bad?”

“Always,” Ari replied. “He has the worst taste in women. There was the one who liked to fight before having sex. I’d come home to broken china and a trail of clothing through the house. Which for him was great. For me? There’s nothing more awkward than finding someone’s panties hanging from the lampshade.”

“How did you end up living together in the first place?”

“Oliver and I have lived together since college. Our roommates dated and moved out together. At the time, it was the easiest and only option. Luckily it worked.” Ari realized they were slipping into first-date territory. Drinks and dinner, sharing background and personal stories. She wasn’t sure if this was a first date or not, but it sure seemed like it.

Ari didn’t know how she felt about that.

“Tell me what you know about the Glory Youth Center,” she said, diverting attention off her personal life and back to work. She was happy to pretend for the moment that Mr. Davis was only work related. Nothing personal.

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.”

“I went today. Judge Hatcher placed one of my clients there. It’s pretty nice but it’s like…some kind of referral-only place. We’ve never had another client placed there as far as I can tell,” Ari explained. “I have no idea how Curtis landed on the list.”

Nick rubbed his chin and Ari could see the five o’clock shadow growing in. He had one of those faces that grew more attractive with a little scruff. “I guess the judges may have some pull in that area. Juvenile judges are appointed which means they have a lot of political connections and attend fundraisers and other events. Maybe that’s how she found it.”

“Maybe so. Seems like they have a really high success rate. Mr. Davis was more together than any other program director I’ve met.”

“Davis? I’ve met him before. Tall and kind of bald, right?”

Handsome, amazing kisser and apparently my dirty little secret, Ari wanted to add. She felt her cheeks flush. “Yes, that’s him.”

Nick tipped his beer and finished it off. “Yeah, I’ve met him. Kind of aloof. Seems like he plays by his own rules.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily, but you and I both know societal rules are there for a reason.”

“True,” Ari said. The waitress walked up and laid two checks on the table. Ari reached for hers but Nick swiped both before she reacted.

“Dinner’s on me.” He tucked a card in the black padded envelope and handed it back to the waitress as she passed by.

Ari scrunched her nose. “You sure?”

“You did me a favor. I was going to sit at home all night reading case files. This is so much better.”

“Better than me sitting home watching the late-night news to see if any of my clients got arrested,” she said, shaking her head.

The waitress returned and they gathered their coats and squeezed through the tight restaurant to the front door. Ari walked toward her car and Nick followed. Like that, everything went from casual to date-night awkward.

“Oh, by the way,” Nick said, as Ari pulled her keys from her bag, “I did a little digging on Hope’s situation.”

“Really? What did you find out?”

“I talked to a couple of the officers at the courthouse and pulled some records. I thought the details sounded familiar when you told me. Girl kidnapped for prostitution. There have been a couple of girls arrested on Stewart Street with this same story. My gut tells me this is some kind of urban legend they have created in an effort to stay out of jail.”

“That’s kind of how I felt. What did the police say?” Ari leaned against the car.

“Same thing. There’s no evidence of kidnapping or anyone being held against their will. The girls all have a history of prostitution and refuse to give any real information. The police tend to think it’s a cover story, too.”

“I wish that made me feel better,” she said. “Thanks for dinner. I owe you one.”

Nick smiled. “I’m going to hold you to that.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. “Goodnight, Ari.”

Ari grinned and said, “Goodnight.”

FIVE

“How was your date last night?” Oliver asked as they ran up the hill.

“I didn’t have a date, but since we’re asking, how was yours?”

“Me? I had to work late.”

Ari shook her head. “On a Friday night? Plus, you didn’t get in ’til past two.”

“I don’t know if you want to play the ‘What time did you get home?’ game right now.”

Huh, so he knew how late she’d come in the other night. Ari played dumb, because what was she going to tell him? Lie and say that she stayed at the gym for four hours? The truth, that she made out with some guy she never met against a dirty club wall until the bouncer kicked them out? Oh and by the way, he happened to be the director of the program her client just moved into.

She opted to deflect. “Don’t tell me, you hooked up with Veronica from accounting. Again.”

“She’s really hot.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He held up his hands and said, “She and I are like two magnets. The kind that snap together with incredible force. We’re drawn to one another. Typically over a desk or under a desk or somewhere near a desk. We’re on the clock, you know.”

“You’re going to get fired.” They reached the top of the hill and began an easier coast for the last mile. Their goal was in sight. A sweet, delicious, run-worthy goal.

“Possibly, if everyone else in the office wasn’t doing something similar or worse.” He gave Ari a wolfish grin.

“I don’t even want to know.”

“You really don’t.”

At the end of four miles, the roommates raced to their reward. Sticky and delicious doughnuts from a shop near their home. Once purchased they exited the shop and walked back to the house. Weekend runs started as a way to fight off the extra weight and stress being part of the workforce inevitably caused. Plus, it gave them an excuse to get doughnuts afterwards.

“Try this,” Ari said, breaking off a piece of her Nutella cream puff.

Oliver took the doughnut out of her hand and popped it in his mouth. “Ohgodthat’sawesome,” he mumbled.

They reached their street and Ari noticed something weird in the driveway. “Why is my car leaning like that?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver said. He jogged ahead. “Oh shit.”

“What?” she ran up to him but stopped hard when she saw her car up close. “Motherfudger!”

Two of her tires had been slashed and the entire left panel of her car had key scrapes down the side. Ari’s car wasn’t especially nice. Honestly, it was a piece of junk, but she owned it outright and she tried to take care of it. A wave of anger washed over her. “Asshats,” she said, breaking her own non-cursing rule.“They did this while we were running? In broad daylight?”

“Pretty nervy,” Oliver said, looking up and down the street. It was early enough on a Saturday morning that no one else was out. “Probably only took them a couple of minutes.”

“This sucks,” Ari said, leaning against the lopsided car.

“Let me go call the police.”

Since it was a non-emergency, it took the officer almost an hour to get there. She’d sent Oliver inside for a shower since she was able to deal with this herself. As soon as the officer got out of the car Ari, recognized him from the armed robbery at the hardware store.

“Didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Officer Baker said. He kneeled by her car, surveying the damage. “Any idea who did this?”

“Not specifically,” Ari snorted. “But I could probably make a short list.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You have a lot of enemies or something?”

“I’m a juvenile probation officer. I have a caseload of sixty kids. I could narrow it down to about fifteen that hate me at the moment.”

Officer Baker whistled. “Yeah, that could be a problem. Or it could be random. Did they take anything?”

“Nope. Just messed up the car.”

“So, yeah, probably retaliation of some kind. Who’s at the top of your list?”

Ari thought about it. She had two boys on runaway status right now—both with outstanding warrants Ari issued when they’d failed to make curfew. Then there was Hope, but she was in lockup. There wasn’t much she could do from inside. She thought back to Jace Watkins and the armed robbery, but Ari still thought he hadn’t recognized her. If so, he would’ve probably done a lot more than slit her tires.

“I’ll write the names down,” she said, taking the pad from Officer Baker. She wrote down three or four, adding Jace’s name at the bottom.

“That’s the kid from the robbery last week,” Baker said, looking over the names. “The one that got away. You didn’t tell me he was a client of yours.”

“He’s not. He aged out a while back but I recognized him from our program. If he saw me that day, he may think he needs to scare me.”

Officer Baker frowned and fished out a business card. “I’ll look into this and send you the report for insurance. Be careful and call me directly if anything else happens.” He looked over at her house. “You have a roommate? A dog?”

“Roommate—no dog. But it’s a guy, if that helps.”

“It may. I see your security sticker. Make sure you turn your system on, okay?”

“I try to remember,” Ari said, knowing that she wasn’t always vigilant about it. Officer Baker got in his car and drove off while Ari stared at the mess her car had become. The scratches were ugly, but the two flat tires made it un-drivable. She walked back into the house to call a tow truck.

* * *

Since Oliver worked all day in his office—and could hitch a ride home with Veronica—Ari dropped him off downtown on her way to Curtis’s house while her car was at the shop. Mr. Davis had given her a list of items Curtis would need while in the program, and she thought she’d try his house. Luckily, the program had some basic supplies he could borrow until she got back with his personal items.

Ms. Wilson lived in a housing project near the stadium. The century-old houses lining her street sat in varied states of neglect. Curtis’s mother’s home was no exception although there seemed to be some attempt at keeping the yard and porch clean. Ari parked Oliver’s SUV on the street and locked the doors. She’d come early on purpose, the time of day when drug dealers and car thieves slept. Even though there was a false sense of peacefulness about the neighborhood, the numbness that Ari struggled with returned slowly. She frowned in disgust over the plastic drug baggies that littered the streets. Smashed beer bottles. All signals that every effort she made for these kids had been futile.

No one answered Ari’s knock, so she tried twice more, even pulling on the screen door to see if it was also locked. Curtis had no phone number listed in his file. Tucking her card into the wire mesh door, Ari stepped off the porch. Halfway down the walk, she heard the locks slide and the door slowly open. Curtis’s mother stood inside, obscured by the dark screen door. Ari had expected his grandmother who was listed in his file as his primary caregiver.

“Ms. Wilson?”

“Yes? Who are you?”

“Ari Grant. I’m Curtis’s caseworker. We’ve met before. Is Curtis’s grandmother here?”

“Curtis. When’s he coming home?” she asked. Her voice sounded like gravel, thick and deep.

Ari noted that Ms. Wilson didn’t invite her in. She took a deep breath and explained, “During his hearing, Judge Hatcher recommended a residential placement.”

“How can she do that without my permission?”

“Ms. Wilson, the court sent a notice to Curtis’s grandmother in the mail about his hearing date.”

“We didn’t get no notice.”

“Well, he had one. The good news, though, is that his placement is in town and it’s at a really good program. I think he has a chance of graduating from it successfully.”

She squinted her eyes at Ari and Ari wondered if she was on drugs or hungover.

“What kind of program is this?” Ms. Wilson asked.

“He’ll live there and go to a local school. They have counseling services and a strong focus on athletics.”

“Sports?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“He’s always been good at sports. Probably get a basketball scholarship. Everyone says so.”

Ari had no idea who “everyone” was. She simply said, “Good. Then this may be the best place for him.”

Ms. Wilson stared at Ari with suspicious eyes. “What do you need from me?”

“I came by to see if Curtis has any clothes or personal items I can take to him. Is there anything here?”

Ms. Wilson finally slid the latch on the other side of the door. “You can check his room.”

She followed the woman through the cluttered house. Past cheap furniture and a blaring television. A hole in the wall and the spider-webbed lines of the cracked ceiling revealed how desperately the house needed repair. From reading Curtis’s file, Ari knew his mother didn’t work and that she lived off government assistance. His father had been in jail since Curtis was a toddler, up until his death just before Curtis’s tenth birthday. The odds stacked against Curtis Wilson finding success in this world seemed insurmountable.

“Check his drawers if you want. Or the closet. There’s not much, but I haven’t been in here since he left.”

Ari watched as his mother walked away, probably back to the living room, leaving Ari alone in the room.

Overall, Curtis kept his room tidier than she would expect for a teenage boy. His mattress sat on the floor with no frame. Surprisingly, a couple of books sat stacked neatly on the floor. She noticed library stickers on the back and put them in her bag, figuring no one else would return them. Several trophies sat on the top of his dresser and ribbons were tacked onto the walls. Ari leaned closer to read the lettering. Academic, football, math…

Although they were several years old, it became obvious that Curtis was more than a gifted athlete—he had a brain, too.

No wonder Judge Hatcher wanted to give him a second chance.

The dresser had two broken knobs, so Ari jimmied the drawers open with a comb she found on top. Inside, she salvaged three T-shirts and a pair of jeans. In his sock drawer, she found a baggie of weed. Holding it in her hand she weighed her options. In the end, she tossed it back in. The weed alone could explain his slipping grades. Closing the drawer, she moved to the closet, which revealed a coat and two pairs of shoes. They were probably too small, but it was worth a shot.

In the living room, Ari found Ms. Wilson where she’d expected her, curled up on the couch staring at the television. Ari stopped in front of the door and pulled some papers out of her bag. “Ms. Wilson, here is some information about Curtis. His phone number and visiting hours. I’ll be happy to drive you once he earns visitation.”

“I don’t have a phone,” she said.

“I know. You’re welcome to come by my office and we can call him.”

Ms. Wilson didn’t answer, her heavy eyes glazed over in the direction of the television. Ari slipped her own card out of her pocket and left it with the other paperwork before she walked out the door.

* * *

Back at the office, Ari found Jace Watkins’s file on her desk. It was six inches thick and masking tape had replaced the original binding. Stanton passed her office and said, “Heard you asking about him the other day and I found that in storage. He’s over eighteen and out of our jurisdiction. The last time I saw him was in county lockup for an assault charge. He aged out while waiting for trial. Not sure what happened after that.”

“Thanks,” Ari said, opening the front cover. She’d been poking around the closed files the other day and asked her fellow caseworker, Tony, if he remembered anything about him. She should have just asked Stanton in the first place. He remembered everything about the kids that came in and out of here. She skimmed the details, but it seemed Jace had a history of violent crimes, starting at age twelve. He spent two sentences in long-term detention before he was eighteen, and then the arrest Stanton spoke of. He only had an eighth-grade education, but his psychological exam noted his high IQ. Smart and dangerous. Scary.

Carrying the file, Ari walked to the office next door. “Stanton, do you remember what the last arrest was for? The adult charge?”

He scratched his bald head. “Armed robbery I think. That was kind of his standard M.O. Maybe a convenience store?”

“Okay.” So Jace had a history of armed robbery. Not surprised, she started back to her office but stopped when Stanton called her name.

“Why are you looking into him? Don’t you have enough cases of your own?”

“You would think, right?” Ari laughed. “One of my files crossed with his and I was just curious. Nothing big.”

“Look in the back. I should have put his final court notice in there.”

“Okay,” she said, flipping through the pages. Just inside her door she jumped, dropping the file to the ground.

“Holy crud, Nick!” She bent down to pick up the paperwork, while her heart slammed against her chest. “You scared me!”

Nick scrambled from the empty chair he’d been waiting in. “I’m sorry, not my intention.”

“I think I’ve been a little skittish since the armed robbery,” she confessed.

“Understandable,” he said. She loved the way his forehead creased in concern for her. “I really am sorry.”

Ari breathed in and smelled something yummy. She finally noticed the bag of food waiting on her desk. She peeked into the bag. “What’s this?”

“I knew if I asked you to meet me for lunch you would say you were too busy, so I brought lunch to you.”

“How did you know I would say that?” Calmer now, Ari sat in her desk chair and swiveled it to face him.

“Because when I called earlier, that’s what Rebecca said.”

Ari rolled her eyes. “Oh, did she?”

“She suggested I come here.”

“Uh huh,” Ari said. She opened the bag and pulled out two tacos wrapped in foil. “She happened to tell you that Taco Taco is my favorite place for lunch?”

“Possibly,” he said, with a satisfied grin.

“Thank you,” Ari said and handed him one of the tacos.

He bit into his lunch, attempting not to spill food all over his suit. Ari dug into the bag and gave him a handful of napkins. They ate in silence until he asked, “So how was your weekend?”

“Ugh, pretty good. Someone trashed my car.”

Nick frowned. “What? How?”

“Slashed my tires and keyed the sides. It’s in the shop today.”

“What the hell is going on with you, Ari? The armed robbery and now this? Do you think they’re connected?”

Ari shrugged. Nick didn’t know about Jace. “I’m sure it was just random. I don’t live in the most crime-free community, you know.”

They spent the rest of their lunch break talking about other things and finally Ari said, “I’m going to get in trouble if you hang around much longer.”

“I need to head back anyway,” he said, standing and taking his coat off the back of the chair. Nick really was quite handsome and Ari realized she enjoyed spending time with him. Two “dates” and things felt good between them.

“Let me walk you out,” Ari said, and they walked the maze of her office and past Rebecca who was eating her own Taco Taco lunch at her desk. Ari lifted an eyebrow as she walked by but Rebecca only smirked in return. They walked outside to the courtyard.

“So next time, the food is on me?” she suggested.

Nick gave her a sly smile. “Sounds good. Call you later?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

He leaned over and gave her a gentlemanly kiss on the cheek. Ari smiled when he gave her arm a gentle squeeze before he walked away.

“Bye,” she called.

Ari liked Nick. He was a great guy. Maybe a little straight-and-narrow for her taste but she knew it was time to grow up a little and find a stable guy. Not the type who entertained crowds with backflips in clubs. Plus, that would have been a major conflict of interest now that she and Mr. Davis worked together.

Rebecca pounced on Ari when she came in the door. “I can’t believe he came!” she exclaimed. “I mean, I told him to, but when he asked for my favorite taco I thought he was just joking around. Like, ‘ha ha, I like chicken salsa, extra cheese,’ you know? But then he showed up all windblown and hot and I just didn’t even know what to do, so I just sent him back to your office.”

Ari gave her an amused look. “Are you finished?”

“Not really,” Rebecca said. “Did you make plans for later? Did he kiss you on the cheek or the mouth? I couldn’t see from the window. And don’t even act like you aren’t into him. You should see your face.”

“What about my face?” But Ari knew. She felt the flush and had a hard time keeping the Nick-induced grin suppressed.

“You look like the cat that caught the canary.”

“Not yet,” Ari said as she started back to her office. “But give me a couple weeks and we can talk.”

SIX

Just like the last time Ari arrived at the GYC, Keith stood behind the counter. Loud hip-hop music flowed from the gym and he nodded his head to the beat. She entered the lobby with a bagful of Curtis’s belongings. Since she hadn’t found much at his house, she’d stopped and purchased several other necessities to add to his small collection. At least enough to get through a week of school.

“Hi Keith,” she said, approaching the counter. “I need to drop these off for Curtis. Is he around?”

The boy jerked his thumb toward the gym. “He’s in the ring.”

Ari walked around the counter and almost dropped her bag. Keith was right—Curtis was in the boxing ring, fighting, or really, being beat up by another boy. He wore shorts and a tank top, and big boxing gloves weighed down his hands. A padded helmet covered his head. Even with the protection, blood dripped from his nose and he swayed on his feet.

“Curtis!” Ari yelled. He looked up. The distraction gave the other boy the chance to deliver a sharp, devastating blow to the head. Curtis fell against the ropes.

“Stop!” Ari cried, abandoning the bag on the floor. She ran across the gym and reached for the elastic ropes surrounding the ring. She never made it. Her body flung backwards and her heart seized. An unknown man pulled her back, his massive arms around her chest. For the second time that day, a slamming memory of the armed robbery jolted through her body.

“Get off!” she shrieked. She fought against the man, kicking his shins and scratching at his arms. Ari felt her shoes fly off her feet and her attacker placed her on the floor. He immediately began apologizing.

“It’s okay,” he said, holding his hands up. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

Ari took deep, heavy breaths. Her eyes darted from her attacker to Curtis, who had struggled to his feet. He and the other boy stared at her. Looking around the room, she realized several other boys across the gym had stopped their activities as well. “I’m not going to hurt you,” the man said again. She looked at his face and realized he meant no harm, but that didn’t stop the feeling of panic overtaking her body.

The man offered her his hand and she scrambled back. “Don’t touch me.”

“Ms. Grant?” she heard, and she spun. Mr. Davis ran toward her. “Are you okay?” He looked between Ari and The Hulk. “Peter, what happened?”

“She was about to jump in the ring and I stopped her. I was afraid she would get hurt,” Peter said.

Ari couldn’t stop staring at him. Enormous, bulging muscles, pulled taut at his shirt sleeves. She could even make out the outline of his solid chest through the material. His body was like a machine but his face, Ari realized, was gentle and sincere.

“I’m okay,” she said to Mr. Davis. “I just panicked.” She glanced over at the boys, taking in Curtis’s bloody nose.

“Pete, take the boys upstairs. It’s time for study period anyway,” Mr. Davis said, handing her the shoes she’d lost earlier. “Ms. Grant, will you come back to my office?”

“Of course.” Ari slipped her feet into her shoes, hopping on one foot and then the other. She gave The Hulk a small smile in apology. “That bag is for Curtis.”

Embarrassed by her breakdown, Ari walked away from the watchful eyes of the boys and followed Mr. Davis back to his office. He offered her a seat on his battered leather couch. “Give me a minute,” he said, before ducking back out of the room.

Ari had been in his office the week before, but not alone. She took the opportunity to calm down and to snoop. She ran a finger over the name plate on the desk that simply said “Davis.” The room held two other chairs and a wide, tidy desk. He had several decorative shelves, filled with books and trophies. Ari studied the framed photos that lined the walls—most in black and white. Several were urban scenes, places she recognized from around the city, all in motion. Cars, trains, lights. She squinted at the signature, a scribbled “D” in the corner.

A worn pair of boxing gloves hung on a hook next to the door. Ari felt the soft leather and inexplicably pressed her nose against them.

“Take the towels to the laundry and make sure you use bleach this time,” Mr. Davis directed someone in the hallway, before walking in. She dropped the gloves and leaped for the couch, bouncing a little in her hurry.

“Sorry about that,” he said, entering the room.

“Your office is bigger than mine,” she said, nonsensically.

“Perk of being the boss,” he said. He sat in one of the chairs. Struck again by his interesting look, she noted his Asian features including dark, almost black eyes. He wore his hair short, almost shaved bald, but he wasn’t going bald. She could see the thin layer of stubble covering his head. His nose slanted a little off-center, Ari assumed, from being hit by a fist, and a thin white scar cut through his dark eyebrows. The hickey under his ear had grown faint. She couldn’t tell how old he was, probably close to her age. She could see the lean, hard muscles under his thermal shirt. She’d felt those muscles before and the longing to do so again overwhelmed her.

Ari pointed to the name plate on the desk and said, “So can I drop the ‘Mr.’ now?”

That earned a smile and he nodded. “Everyone else does.”

“Thank you.”

She waited for him to ask her for her first name but he didn’t. Instead he asked, “Do you want to talk about what happened out there?”

With the weirdness between them, she didn’t know how much she should share about herself, but at the same time felt she owed him an explanation for her freak-out. She took a deep breath and said, “I was in an armed robbery about two weeks ago. I think it may have bothered me more than I thought.”

His eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, I managed to stay out of the way,” she lied. “Until one of them—one of the guys came up behind me like that and the whole thing came rushing back like some kind of reflex kicked in.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But you got away safely?”

“I was lucky. They wanted money and I didn’t have any. They left me alone and I hid in a closet. I guess they thought the cashier was a better choice.” Ari’s face burned and her neck grew hot. “I’m sorry to create such a stir, especially in front of the boys.”

“Why? Fear is a natural reaction.”

“Yeah, but not in front of a client,” she laughed humorlessly. “If they sense one inch of weakness, they’ll take a mile. I can’t afford that.”

“You really think that?”

“I know that.”

Davis gave a short nod but not necessarily out of agreement. “Why did you interfere with the fight? Jumping into the middle of a two kids pummeling each other isn’t the smartest thing to do.”

Ari’s initial anger returned, flaring hot in her chest. She’d momentarily forgotten the incident with The Hulk—Peter. “Curtis was getting the crap beat out of him! He’s my client and my responsibility. I’m not okay with the violence. These boys have seen enough in their lifetime. Abusing them and then training them to be even better fighters? I don’t get it.”

Davis allowed her to rant, as he calmly and quietly leaned back in his chair. God, he had an ease about him Ari found equally unnerving and aggravating. “Obviously, you disagree,” she said. “But I’m not sure if the state would approve of your methods if they knew about them.”

Her threat got his attention, if only slightly. “How successful do you find the other programs your clients are in? Percentage wise?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I think it is,” he argued. “I know our methods seem…extreme. But they work and have worked for a long time. The kids we pick to be a part of our program are specifically chosen. They can handle it.”

“Curtis has a black eye! And bruises all over his body! I saw the bandage on Keith’s head. What are you doing? Building soldiers?”

Davis scoffed. “Of course not, Ms. Grant. But we teach them discipline. Control. Another way to let out the anger and the rage they have boiling inside. Better in that ring than on a cop or another kid on the outside with a gun.”

“So you teach them to fight and get out the testosterone. What then? How does that help them in the real world?”

“It’s like any other athletic program. Mental and physical. We train these kids hardcore, teach them how to eat healthy foods and give them the discipline and structure to turn that into productivity in society. We teach them to use their bodies in a positive way. Working with their natural abilities. If they can learn to trust themselves, defensively, then they feel more confident—less likely to lash out.” Davis stood and pulled a yellow sheet of paper off the table. He turned it around and handed to her. “It’s not just random fighting. We compete against other programs. That’s our next event.”

The words “Inter-Club Fight Semi-Finals” were listed across the top. The fight would be held at the GYC next week. “Curtis won’t be competing—yet,” he said. “Probably not ’til next season if he’s ready. But he’s fast, we think he may fit more into the ultimate fighting category anyway.”

“Ultimate fighting? I don’t know. All of this sounds really dangerous.”

Davis rested his elbows on his knees and leaned toward her. “Give us a chance. Come see it yourself. See if you notice a change in Curtis’s behavior over the next couple of weeks.”

“You have a lot of faith in a petty thief thug-wannabe who can run fast.”

“I have a lot of faith in a lot of things,” he said with a wink. “You’ll come?”

“I’ll come,” Ari said, standing up. She walked to the door and touched the smooth leather gloves hanging there. “These yours?”

“My father’s.” He also stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He taught me everything I know.”

Ari tilted her head. “You must be pretty good, then.”

Davis looked her up and down. “I can hold my own.”

Right then Ari knew he remembered her. A current ran between them and she caught a hint of mischievousness in his eye, the same one she’d seen that night across the dance floor. She almost caved and confronted him. Almost.

Instead, Ari left the room, because what would happen if she admitted it? Acknowledged it? Would he think she was some kind of skank who trolled dance clubs late at night? Did he already think that?

Davis just said he could hold his own. She knew that firsthand. On her way out the door, under her breath, where he couldn’t hear, she muttered, “I bet,” and left the building.

SEVEN

“Maria called,” Rebecca announced, handing her a pink message slip. “She said she’ll be here by five.”

“She better be. This is her last chance to show up before I place a warrant. I don’t know why she thinks I’m playing games.”

Ari signed in and checked her mail. A lumpy manila envelope sat on top of all the paperwork. She carried it all past Stanton’s office and set it on her desk.

Ari had managed to get herself under control before she came back to the office. The panic attack had been real. Sweaty and jarring. One thing was certain though, that numbness she felt day in and day out left when she was at the GYC—or more specifically, when she was near Davis. Professionally, Davis seemed like he was on the up-and-up. Their encounter in the club threw that off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something, like some larger picture to the Glory Youth Center. After years of placing kids in various homes and treatment programs, it all seemed a little too good to be true. All it took was a little boxing and hand-to-hand combat and all their problems were solved?

“Stanton,” she called down the hall. “You’re an athletic guy. What do you think about a program based on sports—specifically boxing—for these kids?”

Ari heard Stanton’s chair creak and he appeared in her doorway. “What are you talking about?”

“This program Judge Hatcher got Curtis into. It’s some kind of juvie-fueled fight club or something.”

Stanton leaned into the doorway and crossed his arms. “Fight club?”

“You know Brad Pitt? Edward Norton?” He looked at her blankly. “Soap? Never mind. It’s this crazy group home with a focus on boxing and fighting and they fight other clubs or something. Davis, the director, swears it works, but when I was there today, Curtis got the snot beat out of him.”

“Curtis probably needed to get the snot beat out of him. Teach him a lesson for once.”

“Stanton!”

“I’m serious Ari. These kids need disciple and to fully understand consequences. Sounds like a good program to me. Give it a shot.”

Ari sighed and flipped her calendar over in frustration. “That’s what he said.”

“Who?”

“Davis.”

“See? Smart guy. A little controlled violence isn’t going to hurt these kids. Training in a positive way, inside a competitive environment, could help.”

“Okay, okay. I guess I’m just the one with a problem teaching kids how to beat the poo out of each other.”

“Yeah, you probably are.”

Ari wadded up a piece of paper and tossed it in his direction, but he dodged, cackling with delight as it flew past him into the opposite wall. “Maybe you should go work out with Curtis. Improve your aim.”

“Shut it,” Ari said, pushing her door closed. She sighed at the massive pile of papers on her desk and chose to ignore it for the moment. Why not make the pile bigger? She ripped open the mail, pulling out the papers for filing. Two psychological evaluations, one medical form, and a stack of school records. The manila package remained and she tore off the end, dumping out the contents.

A box fell on the table.

Long, sleek, and heavily lacquered, the box had small gold flowers embossed on the side. Ari pushed it away and checked the envelope again. Flipping it over, she saw there was no return address, no identifying marks, nothing but her name printed in large block letters across the front. Again, she picked up the heavy box, and unlatched the tiny gold hook.

“What the heck?” she said. Empty. But wait, lying against the silk lining, Ari spotted a small rectangular slip of paper tucked into the lining. On one side, in narrow, elegant script, were the numbers three, seven, and four. On the other, were the simple words, Thank you.

EIGHT

“You’re late,” Oliver chided from the couch. He pointed to a drink on the coffee table, similar to one in his own hand. She dropped the bag and picked up the drink, taking a gulp. Better. “We’re meeting everyone at seven o’clock at The Garage.”

“Tequila?”

“It’s been one of those weeks,” he said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “But I convinced Veronica to meet us tonight.”

“Outside the office?”

“Yep. Finally wore her down.”

Ari took a fast gulp of the bitter alcohol. “Yowza! That’s strong!” She flung her jacket on the couch and kicked off her shoes. “Sorry I’m so late. Maria never showed up. I had to call the Apprehension offices to place a warrant and that took forever. Plus, today has just been really, really crazy.”

“Really?” Oliver mocked. “That never happens to you.”

“Extra-special crazy. Let me go change and I’ll fill you in on the way to the bar.”

Ari grabbed her bag off the couch and left Oliver for her room. Once inside, she removed the black box from her bag and set it on her dresser. The box must have been from the mystery guy. Had to be. Thank You? For what? Keeping her mouth shut?

She rushed, opening her closet for a pair of jeans and a gray sweater, the color her mother said matched Ari’s eyes. Sitting on the bed, Ari tugged on black leather boots one by one. Her eyes held steady on the box. What was she supposed to do with it? How did he find her? How did he know where she worked?

“Girl!” Oliver called from the living room. “Let’s go!”

“Coming!” she shouted. On a whim, Ari picked up her phone and typed a message. She pressed “Send” hoping she wasn’t making a fool of herself. With one last glance at the box, Ari shut the door, ready for the night.

* * *

Evenings at The Garage were popular despite its size.

The bar was within walking distance from their house and built in a former auto shop. It had perfect dark corners to meet up and talk, a long bar across the back, and tiny tables crunched together in the middle. Most of Ari’s crowd sat amongst bottles and half-full glasses littering the table. Ari stood in one of the dark corners, drink in hand, talking with Nick.

“Eighteen wheelers?”

“Yes,” Ari laughed. “Only eighteen wheelers. That’s all.”

Nick tipped back his bottle of beer, draining it and discarding it on a table nearby. “So this kid goes to truck stops, steals eighteen wheelers and drives them around the city, until he gets caught or runs out of gas.”

“Yep.”

“Then what happens?”

“Typically he gets arrested, and now that he’s eighteen, he spends some time in jail, but due to over-crowding they release him out and he does it again.”

Nick shook his head. “If I wasn’t part of this system I wouldn’t believe it.”

“Tell me your craziest case,” Ari suggested. She drained her drink and set it on the table, next to his empty bottle.

“First, I’m getting another drink. You want one?”

“Sure, thanks.”

Nick squeezed off through the crowd and the minute he disappeared, Oliver left his spot at the table and found her.

“Huh. Wonder how Nick knew we were here?”

Ari made a face. “I texted him.”

“Hmm…so you like him.”

“What? Are we in third grade?”

“Yes.” He pulled a strand of her hair and stuck out his tongue.

Ari smacked his hand away and laughed at his stupid behavior. “Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t know. I want you to be happy. And to get laid. And I needed to know if that has a chance of happening tonight, because I can’t decide how tacky it would be to invite myself to Veronica’s house.”

“So really, this is all about you.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Pretty much.”

Nick came back from the bar and handed Ari her glass. He turned to Oliver and smiled wide. “Hey man, what’s going on?”

“Not much, just checking with my girl to see if she needed a walk home.” Oliver tilted his head in her direction and smiled sweetly. Ari narrowed her eyes in response but all that got her was a bigger grin. Way to throw me under the bus, Oliver. She’d deal with him later.

“I can walk myself, Oliver.”

“Like heck you can,” he said with a wink. “An armed robbery and a car vandalism in one week?” Oliver looked at Nick.

“I can walk you,” Nick said.

Oliver pointed a finger at him. “Make sure she gets inside and sets the alarm before you go.”

“I’m happy to walk you back,” Nick offered, looking between the two of them. “If you want?”

“That sounds nice, thank you,” Ari agreed, a little embarrassed. “I think Oliver has other plans anyway.”

“You got that right,” he said, smiling at the two of them. He clapped Nick on the back and said, “Thanks man, I owe you one,” before darting back to Veronica.

“Who’s the girl?” Nick asked, watching him settle back in at the table.

“Some chick he’s messing around with from work. It’s either true love or a pure disaster. Either way I want a front-row seat. “

“To watching our friends fall in love,” Nick held out his beer for a mock toast. “Or crashing disastrously.”

Ari held out her glass and clinked it to his and laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”

* * *

Nick held her hand on the way home. It was a sly move, one he’d probably perfected years before. While they walked down the cracked and broken sidewalks, he’d slid his hand down hers and wove their fingers together. Calm and casual. Between the lunch and dinners and The Garage, things seemed to be progressing. Ari decided to just accept it even though easily moving into a relationship wasn’t something she was familiar with. Normally, her emotions bounced all over the place and she fought over a million questions…too fast? Too slow? Is he the one? Is this for fun? But none of those questions filled her mind at that point as they walked slowly to her house.

“Which house?” Nick asked as they climbed the hilly street.

“The green one, on the left. With the star pendent light.”

“Oh, I see it. Do you rent?”

Ari shook her head. “I bought it. Oliver rents from me.”

“Homeowner at age twenty-six. Impressive. Living the American dream, huh?”

They reached her driveway and she led Nick to the front porch. “I guess. I came into some money and it seemed like the right decision.”

The money came from her parents’ estate. Money she’d rather not have but she decided to be responsible with it, make the choices they would have wanted her to make.

“I think you have good instincts.”

And there it was, the moment things went from calm and cool, to nerve-wracking and exciting. Nick, in his leather jacket and perfectly fitting jeans, leaned against her door but never let go of her hand. She felt a little woozy from the alcohol but not enough to lose her head. He tugged her closer and bent down to give her a kiss. One she happily returned.

Nick shifted away from the door and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. They kissed this way, engrossed in one another, until a car drove by thumping a loud bass beat.

Ari broke away, laughing at the distraction and rolled her eyes. “Welcome to the hood,” she said, touching her fingers to her lips.

“Gives it personality,” Nick said. He pushed her hair back over her ear, trailing his fingers along her neck.

“Nice way to put it.”

Ari took the break in kissing to suggest, “Do you want to come in?”

Nick tilted his head and said, “Um…well, can we talk about this?”

“What, this?”

“Me and you.”

Ari looked around wondering where things were going. Was the kiss that bad? Because it didn’t feel bad to her. It felt pretty awesome. “Uh, sure.”

“You’re amazing. And I really like you. And kissing you? I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.” Ari blushed and fought back a smile. So the kiss wasn’t bad. “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work out and when you texted tonight—I was pretty damn excited.”

“Darn,” Ari corrected out of habit. “Sorry.”

He smiled and ran his hand behind his neck. “Basically, and this sounds like I may lose my man card here, but can we take this slow? If we blow this and have to see each other every other day at work it’s going to be a train wreck. I don’t want that.”

Ari nodded in false agreement. “Yeah, I don’t want that either.”

“But please understand. I’m all in for finding out if this will work. I just don’t want to rush it.”

“Makes sense,” Ari agreed. “I can take things slow.”

“Good,” he said with a relieved smile.

“So how do we handle this?”

“I think tonight, we end this here, and I don’t come inside. Because once I get inside, I’m staying,” he laughed and Ari blushed.

She unlocked the door and quickly walked through the house, checking all the rooms for anything weird while Nick waited on the porch. When she finished she said, “All safe.”

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed her again. “Call you tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.”

He kissed her again and then twice more before she finally pulled herself away and shut the door. Nick didn’t leave the porch until she set the alarm and turned off the lights.

NINE

Ari sat straight up in her bed, surrounded by nothing but pitch dark and she held her breath. On instinct, she reached under her pillow for her phone. Someone or something had made a banging sound out in the living room and Ari’s throat lodged in her chest.

Another crash came from the living room, and she turned on her phone to light the room. For the third time that day, she fought a panic attack. Not one to lie in wait, she got out of bed, tip-toeing across the hardwood floor over to the door. She pressed her ear against the smooth surface, her thumb on the keypad of her phone, ready to dial 911.

Footsteps passed her door, clumsy and loud. She heard a man’s voice followed by a sharp, low, “Shhh!”

Ari sighed and swung the door open, “Oliver! What the heck are you doing?!”

Oliver and Veronica swayed against one another in the hallway. Veronica at least had the good sense to look apologetic.

“We had too much to drink and walked back here,” she said.

Oliver shrugged and pulled his latest conquest into his bedroom. He winked at Ari before he closed the door.

Exhausted and still a little tipsy, Ari shuffled back to her room. Just before she closed the door, the hallway light splayed across her room and dresser. She noticed immediately. The box was gone.

Ari knew she had seen the box when she came in her room for bed. Sleek and black, glinting like a secret. Confused, she flipped on her light. She walked to the dresser, opening the first drawer, tossing socks and panties on the top, next to her jewelry box and a photo of her parents. She felt around inside.

Nothing.

Shoving everything back inside, she did the same to the lower drawers, even pulling the dresser away from the wall, wondering if maybe it fell behind. Again, no box.

Ari turned to the bed, straightening the covers and looking under the pillows, one by one.

“Where did you go?” she mumbled, turning on the bedside lamp, and there it was. On the small table on top of the book she’d been reading. Tiny gold flowers glinting in the light.

Not where she left it. She would’ve sworn on it.

Ari wracked her brain trying to remember if she’d moved the box when she got home, but she had been giddy over her kisses with Nick, not to mention sleepy from the drinks at the bar. She couldn’t remember clearly, and obviously no one had broken in—the house was empty when she came home and the alarm had been set. Judging from the muffled banging through the wall, Oliver hadn’t noticed anything unusual when he and Veronica had gotten home.

Ari turned off the overhead light and got back into bed. She picked up the heavy box and opened the lid slowly. Inside she found the note, exactly as she’d left it.

Clutching the box in her hand, Ari drifted back to sleep, thinking of mystery men and secret messages.

* * *

Ari spent the weekend fighting a hangover, dodging questions from Oliver, and catching up on paperwork. Monday morning yielded a staff meeting where her boss’s boss, Mr. Lincoln, attempted to enforce a new dress code—less casual—and by the time it was over, the stack of pink slips from missed calls sent Ari into a full blown meltdown.

“I spent four hours yesterday catching up on my files so I could tackle my already overwhelming to-do list, and a two-hour meeting, about not wearing denim, just set me back two more days! I can’t catch a break!” Ari paced around Stanton’s office waving the pink papers around as evidence.

“I hear you girl. Things are swamped right now.” He pointed to the organized stack on his desk as though that represented “swamped” or something. Everything in his office was neat and orderly. The photos of his family on the shelf behind his desk. The neatly stacked “In” and “Out” trays. “These kids can’t stay out of trouble for a minute. But you know how this operates. Better jump on this stuff now or it’ll only get worse.”

Ari rolled her eyes and said in the most sarcastic voice she could manage, “Thanks for the pep talk, Coach.”

“That’s what I’m here for!” he yelled as she slammed her office door.

Ari dropped in her desk chair and reached for the phone. Time she stopped having temper tantrums and started returning some of her calls. She flipped through the papers and noticed one was from the juvenile counselor, Mrs. Cox, with the subject listed as: Hope.

Ari knew Mrs. Cox only called when necessary. She was responsible for hundreds of girls and their emotional needs while in detention at the courthouse. Ari pressed number three on the speed dial.

“Counselor’s office.”

“Mrs. Cox, its Ari. I just got your message about Hope. Is everything okay?”

“Yep, everything is fine. I got a notice today, though, that she’s up for release. Did you get one of these?”

Ari dug though the pile of papers on her desk but there was nothing with Hope’s name on it. “Nope. Nothing here.”

“It seems like a rush of some sort. Like they couldn’t make the case or something.”

Juvenile court wasn’t like a regular adult court where you had to present solid evidence for a case. Once a child was in the custody of the state, all additional crimes were considered off of that original case. A panel determined sentencing and placement, not the judge. Ari frowned and said, “That sounds weird. Where did this come from?”

“Let me see,” Mrs. Cox said. Ari heard her ruffling papers on her desk. “Judge Hatcher signed the paperwork. This sort of thing happened all the time due to overcrowding.

“Guess it’s legit, then. When do I need to get her?”

“By five or I’ll have to release her to her family or something. I know you’d rather get to her first.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Before Ari hung up, she asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What do you think about this prostitution story Hope is spreading?”

Mrs. Cox sighed on her end of the phone. “I’m not sure. The whole thing seems a little dramatic? Hope’s been in and out of here for years. Prostitution is an old habit of hers. But that’s what gives me pause. Why would she suddenly make something like this up? She’s never really denied her behavior until now. Of course, unless she’s willing to give more information, there isn’t much we can do.”

“Right, that’s what I told her,” Ari said, feeling better that another social worker backed up her feelings. “Alright, I’ll be by there before five.”

Ari hung up from Mrs. Cox but didn’t replace the receiver. With a sigh, she picked up the next slip and started dialing.

* * *

Technically, Ari got off work at 6:00 p.m. Realistically, she was lucky to get home by eight. While sitting on Hope’s grandmother’s couch, she took a quick peek at her watch and saw the hands inch toward seven forty-five. Her stomach had already growled in rebellion once and she was ready to go home. Unfortunately for her, picking up a kid from detention was more than just signing a form and taking her home. They had to agree on a new contract, get a leg monitor from Apprehension services, and go over house rules. Some days never ended.

“Your curfew is 9:00 p.m.” Ari said. “The leg monitor will notify Apprehension if you go out—so don’t even try. This is your last chance. You got lucky Judge Hatcher threw out the case.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ms. Grant.” Hope sprawled on her grandmother’s couch, relieved to be home. “I just want to take a bath and sleep.”

Ari sighed and stood up. “I hope you mean it this time. One more arrest and the placement committee will find a residential program. I’d hate for that to happen.” She shot Mrs. Banks an encouraging smile. “You let me know if you need anything, okay?”

The older woman nodded. “I will. I’ll make sure she behaves.” Wishful thinking. Ari suspected Hope would be back in lockup in the next couple of weeks. “I’ll get your school stuff in order and pick you up on Wednesday. That means you stay in the house tomorrow, got it?”

“Got it,” Hope said. She managed not to roll her eyes. Ari was serious, though. One step outside provided a dozen opportunities for Hope to get in trouble. Heck, all she had to do was open the window.

Ari fished in her bag and pulled out two business cards. She gave one to Mrs. Banks and one to Hope. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be here on Wednesday at nine o’clock. In the morning. Be ready.”

“Alright, alright,” Hope said, waving her off. She was right. Ari could only warn her so many times.

Ari left the apartment and stepped into the dark. Wasting no time, she rushed to her car, passing several men sitting on the front steps of their homes. Her car wasn’t as close as she’d liked it to be, but the lot had been full when she’d arrived. After dark in the housing projects held a general danger, but a caseworker had a particular target on their heads. No one liked people prying into their business and even though Ari’s main goal was to help, not everyone saw it that way.

Fall had come to Glory in full force, bringing a sharp chill to the air. Ari reached her car safely, only encountering a group of kids tossing a basketball. Their ball echoed against the pavement as they laughed and joked, but she just kept her head down, searching for her keys, ignoring the mounting panic in her chest. Her leather gloves made it hard to find the keys, but she fumbled them out of her pocket and they clattered to the ground beneath her car.

“Motherfudge,” she muttered, looking around before she ducked down to the ground. A car drove by, flashing its lights across the pavement giving her the light she needed. Ari hurriedly plucked the keys off the ground and unlocked the car. Without wasting time, she jumped in, relocking the door. Taking a deep breath, she realized she wasn’t in danger, but what if she had been? What if she was in trouble? Would the mystery guy know? Would he know how to find her? Would he even care?

Her questions made his interference at the hardware store even more compelling. He knew her name, but had he been there for her or for the robbery?

Ari started the car and pulled away from the curb, confused and more curious than ever about the guy the media called The Vigilante.

* * *

When Ari arrived home, the house was quiet. Disappointed, she realized Oliver must’ve still been at work or out with Veronica. Or maybe both, she thought.

Standing in the middle of the living room, she turned on the TV. Cop show, cop show, dance show, cop show, show about some guy that shot up a movie theater, Desperate Housewives…

Via text, she’d learned Nick had plans with friends that night and he didn’t suggest she come along. It wasn’t that she wanted an invite, Ari just didn’t feel like being alone. Or thinking about her job, which wasn’t happening with the television options so far. Dropping the remote on the couch, she turned the television off and walked to the kitchen. Ari pulled a cold piece of pizza out of the refrigerator and took a bite.

Barf.

Tossing the pizza on the table, she went to her room. There, she stripped off her work clothes and opened her dresser drawer to look for her pajamas. How pathetic was it to go to bed at 9:00 p.m.? Her teenaged self would have mocked her. Dang. Her adult self wanted to mock her. With a slam, Ari shut the drawer and instead, crossed the room to her closet. She unearthed a pair of leggings and an oversized black and gray striped shirt. Cut low in both the back and front, it revealed more than one of Ari’s tattoos. Before she could back out, she laced up the chunky-soled boots she liked to wear, and rummaged through her jewelry box for her favorite silver hoop earrings.

Satisfied, Ari grabbed the cold piece of pizza off the table before rushing out the door in an attempt to fight off another night of bad dreams and numbness.

* * *

Spontaneity could be rewarded, or in Ari’s case, a total letdown. She went back to the club, Glorious. She danced and drank and looked good, if she said so herself. But as she moved through the crowd, it became tragically clear Davis was nowhere in sight. Ari had an itch that needed to be scratched, and it radiated off of her like heat from the sun.

The other men in the club felt her energy, sidling up to her. More than one took the liberty of grinding up behind her. She shot those guys down with a dirty look while moving away. She only had interest in one guy. One connection, and he wasn’t anywhere in sight.

She’d retreated to the corner to drink a bottle of water when she heard the commotion over the music. Shouts and cheers brought her out of the dark to see what the excitement was about, to see if he’d appeared after all. One look proved it wasn’t Davis on the floor this time, but another guy, younger—African-American with tiny dreads crowning his head.

Ari looked around for Davis—maybe this wasn’t his crew. She turned to look behind her, over toward the bar and found herself face-to-face with his dark, watchful eyes. The white scarred slash through his eyebrow.

Reality crashed down.

What was she doing? She worked with him, and…the other time had been a mistake, but this? This was no mistake. Ari was trolling for him, which was just…wrong.

“Ari,” he said, but she’d made her decision.

She ran.

She bolted through the crowd, thick with spectators. They fought back, unaware that she just wanted to get away. They were hoping to get an eyeful of the tricks being performed on the stage. Regardless, Ari was determined to get away from him and this clusterfeck of a mistake she’d made, so she struggled through, squeezing and ducking between sweaty bodies. She’d go to Stanton tomorrow and tell him to remove Curtis from her caseload. Let someone else take the case and not embarrass herself any further.

The club had a side exit and Ari pushed through it, knowing the fire alarm wouldn’t go off. She’d seen others going in and out of the door before.

The cold night air slapped her face the instant she stepped outside, and her hearing sounded hollow from the loud music. Tears formed from the cold but reality seemed even more real out there. She’d come to rid herself of the numbness and only made a fool of herself.

“Ari.” She heard her name. Looking straight ahead, she pretended she didn’t hear him. She ran up a short flight of concrete steps to the parking lot next door. Davis met her at the top.

“Holy shitz,” she choked. “How did you...?”

“I jumped.”

Right. He jumped.

She shook her head and said, “This is just really…”

“Awkward?”

“At best.”

She kept her eyes away from his face. From his mouth. From that spot below his ear.

“Can we just keep pretending this never happened?” she asked. The sweat on her arms and neck froze under the night air, sending her into a shiver. Davis reached out and ran his hand down her arm, sharing his warmth. She pulled away and laughed bitterly. “See, like that? That shouldn’t happen.”

“What if I want it to?”

“Do you always get what you want?”

His dark eyes locked with hers and he said, “No. Not always.”

“That other night,” she said. “That wasn’t me.”

“No?”

“No.”

He closed the space between them. “Seemed like it to me,” he said, tipping her head toward his. Calling her bluff.

Rightly so, because that was her. That night. The real her. The one she hid from Oliver and Nick and dressed in straight-laced clothes, and sat stoically in Judge Hatcher’s courtroom.

Ari didn’t know how to respond and she didn’t have to, because the back door opened and a crowd of people spilled out into the parking lot. In the center, Ari saw the guy from the floor. She looked from the group to Davis and saw a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“I have to go,” he said. “Your car is close?”

“Yeah, it’s right there.” Ari clicked the key fob so the lights flashed.

“Are you okay to drive?”

“Yeah, I only had water,” she assured him.

The voices below escalated and she could tell he wanted to go down there. That kid probably was in his crew after all. “Go straight home, okay?”

“Yeah, alright,” she agreed, brushing past him.

He grabbed her arm. “Don’t do anything until we talk.”

“What—” she started to question his right to ask that of her, but he was gone, leaping down the steps and over the railing. Davis disappeared into the crowd below.

* * *

Ari didn’t do anything about Davis the next day. Or the next. Instead she focused all her energy into catching up on the unrelenting pile of work on her desk. If she was honest with herself, she would admit that she hoped maybe the situation between them would just blow over. Maybe Curtis would fail out of the program and she’d never have to go back.

Other than her work, Ari threw herself into Nick. Well, as far as he was willing to let her.

“How was dinner?” Oliver asked. His legs stretched across the couch and he held a bowl of cereal in his hands.

“Good. I see you’re having your own dinner of champions.”

“Dessert. Dinner was a frozen burrito.”

“Gross.” Ari scrunched her nose in repulsion.

“Well, you bailed on me—again. You know I can’t cook.”

“Poor baby.”

He decided to go one step further. “Plus, I don’t have some handsome sugar daddy springing for dinner either.”

“Hey! I paid for dinner tonight,” Ari argued, but it was futile because it only led Oliver to question “how” she paid for dinner. If he only knew how chaste it all really was.

Just before the eleven o’clock news, Oliver hopped up, tapped her legs out of his way and went to bed. “You coming?” he asked as he secured the lock on the front door and set the alarm.

“Not yet,” she replied, stretching into the space on the couch he’d just vacated, “I need to watch the news—make sure none of the kids landed in the pokey tonight.”

“Okay then…night.” Oliver shuffled off and she heard lock click on the door of the bathroom they shared.

Ari flipped the TV to the local news and breathed a bit easier as the night’s stories unfolded and none of her clients showed up in the ‘Breaking News’ section. She was about to turn the television off when the news anchor said the words, “mystery man,” and caught Ari’s attention.

Ari reached for the remote and turned up the volume. Oliver came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth, and sat on the couch arm next to her. “Holy shit,” he said, through a mouthful of toothpaste. “There he is!”

“Shhh,” Ari said, focusing on the story.

“Earlier tonight, a fight broke out between rival gangs on the subway platform at Bolton Street. The altercation was caught on surveillance camera. To the surprise of police, the fight had been broken up by the time they arrived. Who stopped it? The local hero people are calling a ‘Vigilante.’”

“Is that the guy you saw?” Oliver asked.

Ari watched the video the news played on a loop. The grainy black and white film was hard to make out but she identified the same or similar outfit from the robbery. Dark hoodie. Dark pants and boots. It wasn’t his clothing that confirmed it for her, though. It was his movement. Quick and precise. Confident.

He wasn’t scared.

“Damn,” Oliver said, running back in after rinsing his mouth. He pointed at the TV. The man managed to get all the kids under control and separated in different directions. Once the police arrived, he jumped over the tracks and disappeared off screen.

“Police have not identified this man and are requesting that in the future, civilians not engage dangerous situations. As we’ve reported before, this is not the first time the Vigilante has interfered in situations like this.” A square photo flashed behind the anchor’s head. It was a blurry photo of the mystery man with the word “Vigilante” stamped across the top. “Let us know how you feel about the Vigilante involving himself in police matters.”

“He’s a ninja, all right.” Oliver glanced up at Ari once she turned off the television. “Who do you think he is?”

“No clue, but it doesn’t look like the police like him being involved.”

“I’m sure they don’t. He’s been doing a better job than they have.” Oliver held out his hand and Ari took it, allowing him to lift her off the couch. “I’m just glad he was there when you needed him,” he said, giving her a hug and a kiss on the top of her head.

“Me, too, because if Jace recognized me, it’s possible he wouldn’t have let me go.”

“Do you think that guy, the ‘mystery man’, knew that? Is that why he saved you and left everyone else out there?”

Ari shook her head. “If he did, then he knows more than he should.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow but smiled. “That’s what superheroes do, right? They’ve gotta have an edge. Maybe he has an Alfred or something.”

The roommates parted ways and went to their respective rooms. Ari knew Oliver would be out like the dead in a matter of minutes. She wished she could be so lucky. Instead, she tossed and turned all night, dreaming of dark eyes and worn hands, pulling her from behind. His hands were hot and her stomach twisted, even in her sleep. When she tried to catch a glimpse of his face it was clouded—shaded from view.

Ari woke up panting, her arm slung over the pillow, clutching the black lacquered box.

TEN

“Thank you for being ready on time,” Ari said. Hope was in the passenger seat. They were on their way to register her back in school.

“Like I had much choice,” the girl mumbled. She wasn’t happy. Starting back to school was hard for these kids. Hope would struggle, like all the kids in and out of detention. It was Ari’s job to make sure she succeeded.

“Also, once a week I’m going to pick you up from school and we’re going to meet with a therapist.”

“A what? No, I don’t want to do that.”

“I think it will help,” Ari told her.

“I don’t really think I need to see a counselor, Ms. Grant. I’m not crazy.”

“Well, I think you do. And so does Judge Hatcher.” Ari glanced at Hope who had an irritated look on her face. “Going to a therapist doesn’t mean you’re crazy. It means you need someone to talk to that can help you sort through the emotions and problems you’re having right now.”

“I don’t have emotional problems.”

Ari bit back a retort about the violence and prostitution the girl had been involved in since a young age. “Good, then I guess the therapy won’t take long then.”

The early-morning traffic made the drive take longer than she’d hoped. Currently, they were trapped behind a school bus that stopped every two miles. Hope picked up a file Ari shoved in the middle console and read the tab on the edge. “Jace Watkins?”

Ari reached for the file and stashed it in the backseat. “You know you can’t read that.”

“I know him,” Hope said. “He’s my neighbor.”

“Still?” Ari asked. She fought a shiver thinking that Jace could have been that close this whole time.

“His auntie lives there, but he doesn’t come around much.”

“Well, I think he’s in lockup a lot of the time.”

“He’s mean,” Hope said. Ari glanced over and the girl was staring out the window. “He was always mean to me and the other kids when we were little.”

“You’re a lot younger than him. He’s almost twenty. So, nearly four years?”

“I guess. He was always around, though.” The school bus made another stop and Ari waited as the kids piled into the vehicle from the sidewalk. Hope fussed with the door lock, flicking it on and off. “He was my first.”

“First?” Ari asked, knowing good and well what she meant. The bus moved forward and Ari did the same. They were close to the school and when the bus pulled into the drop-off lane, Ari continued to the parking lot. She would have to walk inside with Hope and complete the registration paperwork.

“Yeah. I lost my virginity to him.”

Ari eased the car into a parking spot and simply said, “Oh,” because what else could she say?

“I was eight.”

The car jerked to a harsh stop. “Eight?” Ari clarified.

“Yeah,” Hope said, shrugging. She began to gather her things from the floor of the car.

Ari, who had seen and heard everything at this point, terrible stories, stupid decisions, heartbreaking testimonies from mothers and children and victims, felt more pain in her heart from that one statement than from anything she’d encountered before. She turned to the girl and said, “Oh honey, you realize that at eight we don’t call that losing your virginity, right?”

Again, Hope shrugged and said, “Whatever.” She got out of the car and closed the door.

Ari flipped down the mirror on her car and wiped under her eyes, fighting for composure. She rarely cried. Barely ever on the job. But Hope’s story said so much about her, about her confusion and misunderstanding. How she’d always been a victim and why she didn’t understand selling herself made her a victim all over again.

It also told her everything she needed to know about Jace Watkins.

He was a monster.

* * *

The numbness came back with a vengeance after hearing Hope’s story. She spent the rest of the day running from the images of eight-year-old Hope, violated by the older boy. She knew the numbness had a name—depression—but Ari wasn’t ready to go there. Not yet.

There were other drugs than antidepressants. Oliver was one for her. Stable and secure. Funny, and so caring. Running helped. The endorphins pumping in her veins made the ghosts go away for a while.

The club had been one, but obviously that was no longer an option. Not if she wanted to keep some level of appropriateness. And then there was Nick. Handsome, successful Nick, who should have been a shining star in Ari’s world. She supposed he was a star, but right then he shone too bright. He glared against her darkness and she couldn’t let him see her like this. Not in the early stages of dating, or he’d run like hell.

After Hope revealed her history with Jace, insomnia took hold. While Oliver slept, Ari decided to clean the house, scrubbing the floors and organizing the closets. It was after midnight when she carried her third bag of garbage out the back door, tossing it into the can—and missing. The bag hit the rim and fell on the patio.

“Motherfudger,” Ari said. Just as she kneeled to pick up the bag, she heard the fence creak and she jumped to her feet. She had a foot halfway in the back door when she called, “Who’s there?”

Davis perched on the top of the wooden fence that separated her house from the neighbor. She could barely see him in the dark, but the zipper from his hoodie reflected the soft glow from the kitchen light. He crouched effortlessly, like a cat.

“Jesus, Davis. Are you kidding me?” Ari’s heart pounded in her chest.

“Yeah, this is not really how I saw this happening.”

“Saw what? Me finding you creeping around my house? At midnight?”

“Can I come down?”

“Are you going to murder me?” She said it as a joke, but there was a hint of truth behind her words.

“Of course not.” Ari waved him down and he landed noiselessly. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“No, you’re just a stalker or something?”

“Really? You think I’m the stalker?” he says dryly, obviously noting her nights at the club. “I’d hoped we would see each other officially, like at work or back at the club, but you’ve been hiding from me. I didn’t have any other choice.”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Ari defended.

“What were you doing then?”

Ari leaned against the back porch railing. “Blowing off steam.”

“I understand that,” he said. “But alone and looking like that? Seems a little dangerous.”

“I told you, I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Like what?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Gone to a club alone? Had an immediate attraction with another person?”

“Sucked face for an hour with a guy I didn’t know?” And embarrassingly realize he’s a colleague the next day? she thought. “Nope, that was the first time.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since,” he confessed, easing toward her. He placed his palm flat against the side of the house but kept his eyes steady on hers.

Ari’s stomach burned with desire. “How does this even work?”

She knew, though. She knew the answer. Because she felt alive for the first time in days. Her heart beat strong and the hair on the back of her neck rose in excitement. It didn’t matter how this worked. It only mattered that he pushed the numbness away.

“No strings?” she asked, because she couldn’t get into something with this guy. Not with how things were going with Nick.

“None,” he agreed, closing the space between them. He waited for her to kiss him first and Ari didn’t waste any time. Their mouths were warm against the cold night air but she let out a shriek when his freezing fingertips grazed the skin on her back.

“Shhh…” she said, as though he had been the one to make the commotion. “My roommate’s asleep. Plus my neighbor is ninety-eight years old. She’ll call the cops on you in a heartbeat.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he said, leaning down for another kiss, harder this time. Ari felt the connection from her head to her toes, zipping through her like a bolt of lightning.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked foolishly.

He nodded and breathed, “Yeah,” into her mouth and it felt nice not to be turned down. It felt amazing to be wanted. She ushered him into the house and shut the door to the backyard thinking how awesome it was to feel alive.

* * *

He touched her stars. All of them. The three on her hip. The one on her foot. The scattered constellation on her shoulder. He didn’t ask her about them though, because that counted as a string and Ari refused to go there. Not with this guy. He was heat and fire and, well, sex.

“Mmmhmmm,” Ari breathed, biting her fist to keep quiet. Davis rolled on his back with Ari straddling his hips. His hands grazed her skin, her breasts, keeping every nerve on edge. Davis stripped off his shirt and pulled hers over her head. His hot mouth covered her body in kisses until he settled down, perhaps realizing she wasn’t going to disappear—that this was happening.

Davis barely had the condom on before Ari felt him inside. Pushing his hips against her own. This was undoubtedly the dumbest thing she’d ever done. But possibly the only thing that could pull her out of the continuous funk that threatened to pull her under. The trade-off was worth it. At least momentarily.

Seeing Davis resting his head on her pillow made her head hurt. Surely he wasn’t the guy that should be there. But he was. He’d come for her. He knew what she needed and as she rolled her hips and reached that place where she was unable to catch her breath, unable to see straight—she forgot about everyone else. He sat up to kiss her, pushing her on her back where she could see all eight of his magnificent ab muscles, shaded perfectly in the dark room. He kept his eyes closed when he reached his own climax. Ari watched as his nose wrinkled and she ran her hand down his chest. Moments later he fell into a crumpled, gasping heap on top of her body.

Under Davis’s heavy weight, every inch of her body felt alive for the first time in months. The word she searched for was satiated. He lay there for a moment before rolling off, kissing her neck gently. Barely awake, she curled toward him, drifting off into sleep.

* * *

“So you finally talked Nick into staying over, huh?” Oliver said the next morning.

Ari choked on her coffee. “What?”

“Not to sound like a perv but you guys were going at it pretty hard when I got up to go to the bathroom. You kick him out or something?”

Taking her cup to the sink, Ari poured the remaining contents down the drain. She used a napkin to wipe the dripping coffee off her pajamas. “Yeah, he got up early and went home.”

“Tell him he doesn’t have to sneak in next time. I’m not your dad or some crazy older brother with a shotgun.” He made a pretend shotgun motion. What a dork. “But then again, maybe he and I should have a talk. Man to man.”

“Please don’t say anything to him, okay? He’s skittish due to our working relationship and potential problems with all that. We agreed not to talk to anyone about it, okay?”

“That wasn’t some kind of booty call was it?”

How could someone so self-absorbed and ridiculous also be so perceptive? Ari wondered. “Just be cool, okay?”

“I can be cool,” he agreed. “Won’t say a word—swear.”

“Thanks,” Ari said in relief. Nick. That was a problem she didn’t give much thought to last night. She’d had an itch and Davis scratched it. She and Nick weren’t exclusive, he wouldn’t even come in the house. There was no doubt Ari wanted to justify her decision, and she was justified. It didn’t matter anyway. One-time thing, she assured herself, as she walked out of the kitchen to get ready for work. No big deal.

* * *

Much to Ari’s relief, her interaction with Davis was limited after that night. She suspected it was a one-time thing for him, too, the kind of thing that built up from their first meeting at the club and had escalated from there. He’d sent her a package including two tickets to the fighting event at the GYC on Friday night. A small note inside listed Curtis’s time and event. Apparently he’d decided to let him participate after all. She double-checked the envelope, but there were no other messages inside. Maybe this was one of those one-night stands that worked.

Glad her hookup with Davis could be compartmentalized, Ari found herself obsessing over different things during the following days. Nick occupied a segment of her mind that normally remained rusty and forgotten. She liked him. A lot. His texts and phone calls had become the highlight of her day, other than the real treat of meeting him for lunch in her office or with a group for dinner. The lunch date was fairly benign and consisted mostly of talking about work, but dinner ended in a tentative make-out session in the back hallway of the restaurant. Ari had a feeling the mutual self-imposed rule of “taking it slow” was about to crack—it just depended on which one of them would crumble first.

“Sure you can’t come with me on Friday?” Ari asked. She’d spent the last thirty minutes alternately kissing Nick and trying to convince him into going to the fight at the GYC with her.

Nick pushed a wisp of flyaway hair over her ear and said, “I wish I could, but I promised my mother I’d help her move some furniture.”

“Doting son, eh?”

“Total mama’s boy. I can’t even deny it,” he laughed. “Why are you going to this again?”

“The director asked me to come to the fight. And I told Curtis I would be there.”

Nick touched her chin with his thumb, holding her gaze. “It’s okay to take a night off, you know. These kids will survive if you miss an activity.”

“Honestly, I’m interested to see how it all works. I suspect it’s a glorified fight club.” This wasn’t just a suspicion, it was a fear. Ari had a feeling she’d probably end up reporting the program for inappropriate conduct. She wanted to see it for herself.

“Hey Ari, come here!” Oliver called from his seat near the bar. Nick gave Ari a fast kiss before spinning her toward the seating area. Oliver showed up with Veronica again. Rebecca and some other girls sat together. All of them were looking up at the television screen.

“What’s up?” Ari asked, moving next to Oliver.

He gestured his beer bottle at the screen. “There’s your boy. Back in action.”

On the television, a reporter stood outside a fast food restaurant surrounded by police tape. In the corner was the same photo as last time, the word “Vigilante” stamped across the top.

The mystery man.

Or her mystery man as she’d begun calling him. He was her other obsession. She’d kept an ear out for any information about him since the package had been delivered to her office. He’d been scarce. Until now.

“Where is that?” she asked.

“Burlington Road,” Veronica said. “Seems like some kid tried to rob the store and had everyone held hostage in the back. That guy, the Vigilante, came in and stopped it.”

“Shhh,” Nick said from behind her. She felt his fingers on her hip.

Ari looked back at the television and the reporter held a microphone out to an older woman with curly blonde hair in her Chicken Shack uniform. “The kid came in yelling and cursing. I was working the fry station. He came around the counter and made all of us go in the back. He wanted in the safe even though it’s on a timer. Not even Jim,” she paused, her eyes wide and nervous, “the manager can open it until it’s time. Nikki was crying and he hit her—that’s when the other guy came in. I thought it was another robber but he jumped over the counter and told the robber to stop before someone got hurt.”

“So the Vigilante accosted the robber?”

“Yep. The robber held his gun up to him and the Vigilante kicked the gun out of his hand and got him down on the ground. He told all of us to get out, and we did. I wasn’t hanging around to see what happened.”

“What did the Vigilante look like?”

“I don’t know. It all happened so fast. Plus his hood covered half of his face.”

“Was he tall? Short?” The reporter looked at the camera. “Any description you can give now can help the police find this man.”

“Why would I want to help the police find him?” she asked, incredulously. “He saved my ass and everyone else in that restaurant.”

“What would you do then if you saw him again?”

“I’d give him a big hug. He’s a hero.”

The camera cut to the next story and Ari looked way from the screen. Oliver gave her a drunken smile. “Uh oh, your superhero-boyfriend saved someone else.”

Ari narrowed her eyes. “Oliver, you’re drunk. Shut it.”

“What’s he talking about?” Nick asked.

“Nothing. I’ve just been following this guy—the crazy vigilante. It’s kind of like Glory City has our own superhero.”

Nick frowned. “I wouldn’t really call that guy a superhero. He really should leave situations like that to the professionals.”

“Yeah! He should totally leave it to the cops, you know, because they’re so awesome at catching the bad guys and stuff,” Oliver piped in. “But you guys stick together, right?” Veronica saw the look on Ari’s face and pulled him toward her. Good thing, since Ari was one second from smacking his obnoxious grin off.

Nick stood behind Ari and she reached around him for her jacket. “I’ve got a meeting first thing in the morning, so I really should go.”

Nick grabbed his own coat and followed her out the door. When they got outside, he stopped her. “You aren’t mad at what I said back there are you?”

“Nah, not mad. Just tired, and Oliver’s an obnoxious drunk.” Nick put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She nuzzled into his warm arms.

“I guess I’ll see you next week?” Ari asked.

“Yeah, I’ll probably get home from my parents’ late Sunday. I’ll give you a call.”

“Have a good trip.”

“Be safe at that fight—and steer clear of all superheroes okay? I can’t compete against that.”

Ari smiled. “So that’s it. You’re jealous.”

“Of a guy who may wear tights and probably, most definitely, has abs of steel? Yes.”

Ari reached for his face and pulled him close, “Jealousy makes you kind of cute.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep,” she said and gave him a kiss goodnight.

* * *

The last thing Ari expected to see when she walked to her car the next morning was a patrol car, idling by the curb. Officer Baker waved from his rolled-down window. Ari locked the front door and walked down the driveway.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Just wanted you to know there was another armed robbery last night. Similar M.O. as the last time. It’s possible Jace Watkins was there.”

“Is this the one all over the news? I saw that. But didn’t they catch everyone?”

“Nope. Different robbery, but it happened around the same time. This crew got in and out quickly. They didn’t waste time on the safe, which is what held them up at the hardware store. The leader—he matches the description we have on Jace. Hopefully, we’ll have some security footage to look through.”

Yeah, that and a hooded vigilante, Ari thought. “So why are you telling me this?”

“Because it happened at The Garage.”

“That’s just down the street—I was there last night.”

“It happened about an hour after closing. We asked for a list of customers for possible witnesses and you were on it. Probably a coincidence, but I wanted to let you know. This kid is around too much—and he’s from your office, the hardware store, and now the bar. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Ms. Grant, give me a call if anything suspicious happens, okay? Any other break-ins or vandalism—anything suspicious.”

“Of course,” she told him. “But I doubt it’s him. You know these kids are poor planners. They’re too impulsive. The car thing—sure. The robberies? Must be a fluke.”

“I hope so,” he said. His walkie-talkie crackled on his shoulder and he responded immediately. “Talk to you soon.” He rolled up his window and drove off, leaving Ari in the driveway alone.

ELEVEN

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” Oliver said over the shouts and cheers. He looked like a kid in a candy shop. “It’s not even my birthday.”

“I had a feeling you’d enjoy it,” Ari yelled back.

The whole gym vibrated with excitement, like with any other sporting event. The bleachers were full of spectators, drinking and eating. They’d passed a snack bar in the lobby selling candy and sodas. Much to Oliver’s dismay, it was alcohol free, but they got two huge sugary sodas and bags of popcorn. An event was already in progress when they’d arrived. Two young men circled one another in the ring, doing some kind of martial arts.

Ari and Oliver came around the corner and tried to find an empty seat. There were several rings and bleachers lining the walls so you could see more than one event at a time. The center ring in particular seemed to be the main one, though. Built a little higher, with brighter lights. Oliver pointed to a couple of empty seats at the top of one of the bleachers.

“Ms. Grant?”

Ari turned at her name. A man she’d never seen before stood in front of them and smiled. He was handsome, with dark skin and deep brown eyes. Ari tried, and failed, to keep her eyes from his incredibly ripped biceps. “I’m Boyd. Davis was hoping you’d come.”

“I told him I would.” Ari caught Boyd’s glance at Oliver. “Oh, this is my friend, Oliver. I thought he’d enjoy the fights. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he said. “Davis saved you some seats.”

“Oh, that’s not necess—”

“Thanks!” Oliver said, pushing past Ari. “Show us the way.”

Ari followed the men, half listening while Oliver peppered Boyd with questions about the fights.

“Each ring will have a series of preliminary fights for future events. Boxing is over there,” he pointed to a ring near the far wall. “Wrestling and martial arts are in those two.”

“What’s in the main one?” Oliver asked.

“The top two fighters from these two centers will be in that ring. It’s more of an ultimate-fighting method.”

“What does that mean?” Ari asked.

“You’ll see.”

Oliver jumped in. “So this happens often enough for them to have rankings.”

“Yep. Tonight is the finals. Each kid will only have three events, maximum. But the center-ring fight is the main event. Those boys will only have the one fight. They’re looking to win that.” Boyd pointed to a huge trophy near an announcer’s booth, built into a loft area over the gym. Ari hadn’t noticed it thanks to the noise and crowd. She thought she saw Davis duck down, speaking to someone, and she had a feeling of déjà vu. But in her memory he was between her legs. Naked.

Oh boy.

“Here you go,” Boyd said, ushering them into a less crowded, center-row seat over the main ring. They had perfect views of the other rings as well. “Davis wanted you to know Curtis will be in an exhibition fight in ring three during the first round.”

“Already? Is he ready to do that?”

Boyd laughed. “I’m sure we’ll find out.”

“Thanks, man,” Oliver said, offering him his hand.

Ari also said, “Thank you.”

“No problem. Enjoy the contests.”

Ari and Oliver sat down. According to the scoreboard, the fight going on at that moment wasn’t a fight at all, but some kind of martial arts presentation. The boys completed their showing and bowed to one another, prompting the crowd to clap. Ari had no idea what to expect next, but she wasn’t exactly surprised when Davis appeared in the center ring with a microphone. He wasn’t in his standard T-shirt and jeans that night. Instead, he wore a crisp, black button-down shirt and black dress pants. Davis had that fit look achieved through intense workouts. Slim but built, his muscles pulled at the fabric of his shirt, even though it fit perfectly. Now that she knew what he looked like under those clothes, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Physically, he was perfect. It didn’t help that he excelled as a lover. She tried to focus on anything else. His hair was freshly shaved, the lights shining off his head. His smile genuine. His mouth…

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Davis began, interrupting her wandering mind. “We have several exciting fights this evening leading up to the main event between Jordan and Alvarez, ranked #6 and #2 in the region, respectively. Remember the proceeds from the tickets and concessions go back into our program so that we can continue to provide this opportunity to under-privileged youth all over the metro area. Please help us welcome our opponents from the city of Piedmont!”

The crowd cheered in welcome and Davis slipped out of the ring without notice. A loud bell rang and Ari’s attention focused on the teenage boys filing into the gym who had stopped to sit on benches around each of the rings. Peter followed them in, nodding to whom Ari suspected was the other coach. Although the boys wore warm-up suits, several immediately began removing them and revealing their team uniforms. The GYC boys wore white tanks with black, shiny shorts. The Piedmont team wore black tanks with red shorts.

“I’m still not convinced this is a good idea,” Ari said, watching Curtis remove his cover-up and lay it neatly on the bench.

“What’s the big deal?” Oliver asked. He had a mouthful of popcorn. “It’s organized sports—juvie style. You and I both know they’d never make it on a traditional team.”

“I guess,” she said, diverting her attention to the fight that was about to happen. Curtis had just lowered himself under the ropes and entered the ring. He had on his gloves and helmet. He was in the boxing arena, which sounded a lot better than ultimate fighting. “It just feels like some kind of forced situation. He didn’t really have a choice, and now he’s been tossed in the middle of the lion’s den.”

Ari had seen Curtis the prior week but she could have sworn he’d already gained some muscle. His long, thin arms seemed a tad bulkier and she pointed this out to Oliver as the boy jumped around the ring, moving his arms back and forth, warming up.

“Working out seven days a week for two weeks should make some changes,” he said. “Not to mention a healthy diet.” They watched the two boys, the other shorter, but thicker with short, curly blond hair, shake hands. The referee raised his hand and a buzzer sounded, starting the fight.

More than once, Ari winced as the boys landed blows. Despite the difference in size, they were evenly matched. The boy from Piedmont caught Curtis off-guard more than once but Curtis had speed on this side. He was quick and agile.

“You’re right,” Oliver said, after letting out a loud whoop at the end of round one. “He’s definitely fast.”

Seeing Curtis hold his own made Ari feel better and as they watched each round, she found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering with the rest of the crowd. Curtis’s speed helped him outlast his opponent, and he landed two hard punches against the boy’s black tank, before cutting under his chin, knocking him to the ground.

The referee blew his whistle, calling the fight, and held Curtis’s hand up in victory. He pulled off his mask and mouth guard and smiled at the crowd, all of them cheering for his win. The look of accomplishment on his face was enough for Ari to concede.

“Fine,” she said, knocking Oliver on the shoulder. “Maybe this isn’t the worst thing to happen for him.”

“Did you just admit you were wrong?”

“Be nice and I’ll buy you more popcorn.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Deal.”

* * *

Ari watched the final fight through her fingers. It was intense. Really intense.

As the two boys pummeled each other she realized she’d never seen anything like it. Engaged in a mixture of martial arts and boxing, the two boys flew through the air, as though they were weightless. Except when they connected and then it was like an earthquake rocked the gym. Even over the cheering crowd she could hear their heavy breathing and grunts, both trying to get the upper hand. The boys fought tirelessly, wrestling one another to the ground, using their feet and fists and bodies.

“How old are these kids?” Oliver asked. His eyes glued to the match.

“Eighteen?” Ari guessed, flipping through her program. That number seemed too young. They seemed like men, powerful and strong. Maybe Davis fed them steroids.

Alvarez represented the GYC. Stocky, with a barrel chest. He looked like a tank instead of a kid. Ari flinched as he flipped to the ground, his legs swiped from under him by his opponent, Jordan. He landed with a thud but was back up in an instant, swinging his fists, slamming them into Jordan’s chest.

Clearly outmatched, it was only a matter of minutes before Jordan fell for the last time. The referee called the fight.

After holding his arms up in victory, Alvarez reached out a gloved hand and helped Jordan off the ground. They shook hands, even gave each other a sweaty hug and the announcer called the fight to an end.

“I’d like to catch Curtis if I can,” Ari told Oliver, so they pushed through the crowd to the athletes. The guys were pumped, revisiting the fights and it took Ari a minute to squeeze through a pack of sweaty boys to reach her client.

“Ms. Grant?” he said in surprise when he saw her. Ari noted the bandage on an old wound over his eye and a new, reddish-purple bruise under his jaw. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking up on you. You did a great job tonight.”

Oliver pushed past her and held out his hand. Curtis didn’t hesitate this time like he had with Davis that first day. He eagerly accepted it. “Excellent fight. Can’t wait to see the next one,” Oliver gushed.

“Thank you,” Curtis said, adding a “sir,” to the end. Wow. Maybe this program really was changing him.

Fans of all ages surrounded the athletes and many wanted to offer their congratulations. Oliver turned to talk to some of the other boys, leaving Ari with Curtis.

“We’re going to go, but I just wanted to tell you how proud I was to see you accomplish this.”

“Thanks,” he said. His eyes darted to the ground. “Umm…can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think you could bring my mom and my grandma next time?” he scratched the back of his neck. “You know, if it’s not any trouble?”

Ari smiled and nodded. “I think that’s a great idea. I’ll make sure Davis gives me a schedule, okay?”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling in return. The instant she stepped away from Curtis, a crowd of admirers rushed toward him.

“Come on,” she said to Oliver, tugging on his shirt. She caught him in the middle of a conversation with Peter, and Oliver clapped him on the back as he walked away.

Over the loudspeaker, the announcer informed the athletes they had five minutes until they were required to go back to the locker rooms and for attendees to head out.

“So you’re besties with everyone around here now, huh?”

Oliver shrugged in his easy way. “I like this place. These guys are kind of cool. Peter says that besides the fighting, they spend a lot of time on parkour.”

“Oh yeah?” Ari knew this of course, having seen Davis at the club.”

“Have you seen it? It’s like backflips and jumps. Using regular stuff like walls or stairs to get from place to place.”

They followed the rest of the people leaving, passing by the now empty rings. Ari searched for Davis, hoping she would see him before she left, but the crowd was too thick and he was most likely busy anyway.

“I’ve got to use the restroom,” Ari said, as they entered the lobby. Oliver rolled his eyes. “Meet you out front?”

“Yep,” he said, being carried away by the crowd. Ari ducked into the ladies’ room, and took her place at the standard too-long-ladies’-room line. When she finished, she dried her hands on her jeans since the paper towels were out, and walked back into the lobby. The entire gym was empty except for a couple of guys cleaning up.

Pulling her gloves out of her pocket, Ari tugged them on. She pushed the door open with her hip and stepped into the parking lot. The cool air hit her face and she saw Davis standing in the middle of the parking lot talking to a tall guy with a blue bandana wrapped around his head. A Glory baseball hat sat askew on top. Davis’s jaw set, clenched so tight she could see the muscle bunching in his jaw. At some point she would have to thank him for the tickets. And break the ice.

Ari took a step forward and the door closed behind her with a slam. Everyone turned to stare. She made eye contact with Davis and smiled. He didn’t smile back.

“Don’t move!” the guy said, pulling a gun out from behind his back. Even from across the parking lot it was leveled clearly at her face.

Ari’s hands immediately shot in the air, palms faced out.

“He has a gun!” Ari heard from the crowd on the fringe of the parking lot. From the corner of her eye, she saw Oliver.

“It’s okay,” Ari said to the gunman. She took a deep breath, fighting the panic of being in a situation like this again. Now that he faced her, she realized he was younger than she thought. An older teen. Just like the group of thuggish-looking kids circling behind him, tense and ready to back him up.

Davis looked between Ari and the guy. Calmly, he said, “Antonio, put the gun down.”

Ari lowered her hands and Antonio shouted, “Back up! You may be one of them!”

She jerked her hands back up.

Them? Great. This guy was crazy. Delusional or something. Ari waited, on…well something. Davis? The police? She didn’t even know why this guy had a gun on her.

“You know there’s no violence on the property and we have zero tolerance for weapons,” Davis said. He took a step toward Antonio. The boy swung the gun away from Ari and pointed it at Davis. They were only feet apart.

Oliver called her name, “Ari!” and she turned to him. He frantically waved her toward a parked car. She snapped to her senses, pulling her eyes from Antonio and Davis’s standoff. She ran as fast as she could.

“No!” A woman yelled, but her voice was silenced by the shot. Loud and echoing against the metal building. Ari’s body slammed to the ground, the wind knocked out of her lungs. She skidded backwards, landing on the hard pavement.

Holy crud, that hurt.

She lifted her head, rubbing the side of her face where she’d scraped it against the pavement. Antonio was on the ground. Peter stood over him, holding the gun, one foot on his back. The gang of men that had backed him up had scattered, running into the dark. She lay back down on the cold, hard pavement. The realization that she’d been injured—maybe shot—washed over her. Her chest ached and she couldn’t see straight due to the wooziness in her head. She rubbed her chest, searching for the blood.

“Oliver,” she called. Why he hadn’t come looking for her yet?

Her name came from the dark and she twisted her head. Davis lay next to her, his dark eyes narrowed and tight.

Blood oozed from his shoulder, spreading wet and thick across his shirt.

“Oh, God,” Ari said, struggling to sit up. Her head swam. “Help! Someone help!”

“I’m okay,” he said softly.

“No, you aren’t.” The panic that had been building in her chest amplified. “Over here!”

“Ari!” Oliver called. Boyd and another man rushed over. They started to help her up, but she pointed at Davis.

“He’s hurt. Take him to the hospital.” She looked up again and saw Oliver. “Hey, why are there two of you?” she asked waving her hand in his direction.

The men glanced at one another while Boyd leaned over to check Davis. “Call an ambulance,” was the last thing Ari heard before everything went black.

TWELVE

The elevator doors opened to the eighth floor of the hospital. Ari stepped out and stopped at the nurse’s desk. The young blonde woman barely looked up, focused on her work. “I’m looking for a, uh, friend of mine.” The title “friend” seemed to be pushing it a little but it seemed like the right thing to say. “His name is Davis, he has a gunshot wound.”

The nurse finally looked at Ari, noticing the road rash on the side of her face and the cut over her eye. If she could only see Ari’s back. Her frown said enough, but she ran her finger down the patient list.

“Room 814. Visiting hours are over at nine.”

The clock over the desk said eight-fifteen. She’d pushed the visitation off all day, feeling unsure and confused about coming. In fact, Oliver didn’t want her to come at all, but she’d insisted and he was downstairs now, waiting in the main lobby reading a magazine. She wasn’t allowed to drive yet, not with the concussion, but there was no reason to stay at home. Not when she owed Davis a thank you.

Plus, she had questions.

Ari left the desk and followed the long hallway until she found the room. His name, “Davis” was on a slip of paper, tucked in the nameplate by the door.

I guess they didn’t get a full name, either, she thought.

She knocked and to her surprise, the door swung open, leaving her face-to-face with Peter. A crease appeared on his forehead and Ari said, “I just came by to see how he’s doing.”

Peter pushed the door open farther, revealing Davis in the bed. Their eyes locked and she smiled in relief. The last time she saw him, his skin had paled from the loss of blood and he’d been unable to move off the ground. Now he was propped up in bed, with a half-eaten meal tray in front of him. Her eyes wandered to the bandage on the corner of his bare shoulder.

“You should be in bed,” Davis said. His voice was soft and concerned.

“I’ve been in bed all day. I wanted to see how you were.”

They stared at one another.

“Since Ms. Grant is here to sit with you, I’m going down to the café. Want anything?” Peter said from behind her.

“Something edible?”

“I’ll try.” The huge man left, immediately allowing more space in the tight room. He also took whatever sense of ease there had been, even if minimal. She was alone with Davis, who was bare-chested and wounded. She found his skin distracting. Brown and muscular, but also battered and scarred. A hospital I.D. bracelet wrapped around his right wrist, while fluids dripped into a needle taped to his inner forearm. The leather band he constantly wore was strapped around the left. She saw the fresh wound he’d gotten from protecting her, but then also a thick, twisted scar, slicing under his collarbone. She’s seen it in her dark room, but under the glaring hospital lights, it looked gruesome. Her fingers twisted in the top button of her shirt.

“Come here,” he instructed, waving her to the bed. “How’s your head?”

“Better than your arm,” she said. He reached out and she bent over so he could see her face. Davis cupped her chin in his hand and ran a thumb lightly over the spot. Ari winced and he pulled his hand back.

“Peter said you have a concussion. Did you drive here?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “Oliver’s downstairs.”

“Your boyfriend? The one you came with last night?”

“My roommate. Oliver’s not my boyfriend,” she laughed. Her boyfriend, or almost boyfriend didn’t know about the shooting yet. “That’d be like dating my brother.”

Davis pointed at a chair near the bed and said, “You can sit if you want.”

“So,” Ari said, after easing into the hard vinyl chair. “Can you explain what happened last night? I walked out of the building and into a war zone.”

Davis shifted, grimacing with the movement, so that he was sitting up a little higher. “Antonio was in my program at one time. He wasn’t successful.”

“That sounds like an understatement.”

“I told you we have a small failure rate. He was one of them. He couldn’t commit to the program and kept going back to his old habits. Drug running and guns. Neither of those are acceptable.”

“So why did he come last night?”

“Guess he heard about the event.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I think he knows he made a mistake. Antonio has a lot of talent. He wasted his opportunity and he realized it. I guess he wanted payback.”

“By shooting you?”

“You know better than anyone that logic rarely plays into these kids’ actions.”

“What did he mean when he said I could be one of ‘them’?” Ari asked. “The drugs make him paranoid, Ari. He’s had a hard time with it. He went from our program to rehab. I’m guessing it didn’t work.”

They stared at one another for a minute, tension building between the two of them. Ari had something else to ask. Something to show him but she didn’t know if she had the nerve. After another moment of silence she broke down and said, “You’re fast,” while fidgeting with her blouse.

Davis nodded. “Very.”

“You got between me and that bullet. I didn’t even see it happen.”

“You were already halfway to the ground.”

“I don’t think I was.”

Davis’s eyes were coal black and unrelenting. Ari tried her hardest to meet them. She stood and sat next to him on the hospital bed. “I thought I’d been hit. I could barely breathe it hurt so bad.” She laid a hand on her chest. “But the bullet hit you. Not me.” With Davis watching every movement she unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirt, spreading the fabric wide.

Every time she’d been with Davis, he’d been composed. Cocky at the club, confident in bed. Even at the shooting the other night, he never wavered. Staring down the barrel of the gun. But what he saw on Ari’s chest made him flinch. She didn’t know if it was pain or anger. She started to cover herself back up but he stopped her, reaching out to grab her wrist.

“I woke up with this bruise,” Ari said. The pit of her stomach fluttered under his touch.

Davis held his hand to her chest, balled in a fist but hovering over the purple mark. Wincing from the pain in his shoulder he leaned over and laid his palm flat on her chest. She knew what he was doing. She knew the bruise was a match.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting his hand gently, removing the warmth.

“Why?” Ari asked. “You saved me.”

“I hurt you.”

“You saved me.”

“You wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me inviting you. I’m the one that kicked Antonio out of the program and made him feel belittled, like he needed to save face. You wouldn’t have a concussion and that nasty bruise if I’d been more careful.” His tone was hard and angry.

Ari shook her head and laughed. “Do you really think you control everything?”

“I try,” he replied in all seriousness.

“That’s kind of stupid. Not to mention a little narcissistic.” That earned her a smile and to her surprise, his cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Before she could say anything else, she heard a knock at the door and Ari slid off the bed, hastily re-buttoning her shirt. When Peter entered the room Ari had her bag and was ready to leave.

“You don’t have to leave just because I’m back,” he said. He handed Davis a brown paper bag.

“I need to go. Oliver’s waiting on me, plus visiting hours are almost over,” she said, walking over to the door.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” Davis said. “Take care of that concussion, okay?”

“Okay,” Ari said. Peter’s phone rang and he went into the bathroom to answer it. Ari used the chance to mouth the words, “Thank you,” to Davis before she slipped out of the room.

THIRTEEN

“What happened to your face, Ms. Grant?” Shawn asked, when Ari walked by the activity room. The whole day had been like that. One question after the other about her injuries.

“Took a bad spill,” she replied and entered the room, where several groups of kids waited for their programming to start. The soda machine was in the room and she was in dire need of some caffeine.

“Ooooh, Ms. Grant, that looks terrible,” one girl said.

Another piped up, “I’d never come out of the house looking like that. You need to put some cream on that.”

Ari smiled at the young teenager sitting at a table with a group of girls. “Thanks, Devon. I’ll make sure I do that.”

“Did somebody hit you?” a girl named Shanna asked. Ari pushed her coins into the change slot and selected her drink. The machine hummed and the can landed with a thunk.

“Nope,” she replied. “No one hit me. Unfortunately this is what happened when someone tried to help me.”

Ari walked through the room and she heard Shanna tell Devon, “I heard Ms. Grant was downtown and there was a big fight. Someone got shot.”

“Who told you that?” Devon asked.

“My cousin. He was there. Said Antonio was high and shot some guy he had a beef with.”

Ari paused next to the girl’s table. “Shanna, your cousin was there?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said. Then she narrowed her eyes. “You got that when Antonio shot that man?”

“Yes. I got this when Mr. Davis knocked me out of the way.”

“Is he the man that got shot?”

“Yes.”

“Antonio hates him. Says he’s the devil or a witch or something.”

“The devil?” Ari thought back to Davis saying Antonio was paranoid and delusional. She wondered if his drug use was a method of coping with mental illness. “Why would he say that?”

“He said that whole place is bad. That it’s a cult or something.”

“How is it like a cult?” she asked, but to be honest, she already had an idea of what he meant.

“They can’t leave that place and they have all these meetings teaching them how to behave and if they do anything wrong, they get punished.”

“That sounds like the group home I was in that time. It wasn’t a cult, though. I just hated it,” Devon said.

“It’s a very intense program,” Ari said. “I can see how it wouldn’t be the right fit for everyone.”

“I’m just saying.” Shanna looked at Devon and they both shrugged.

Rebecca walked into the room and said, “You have a phone call. I think it’s important.”

“I’ll take it in my office,” Ari said. She gave the two girls a stern look. “You two need to find something better to do than gossip.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Devon agreed.

The activity room had a side door that entered the back hallway, where the offices were located. Ari took the shortcut, reaching her desk quickly. “Ari Grant,” she said into the phone.

“Ms. Grant, this is Detective Morgan from the Glory Police Department. I got your name off Maria Snow’s file.”

Ari sat in her desk chair and searched for a pen and paper to take notes. “Maria is one of my clients. Is she okay?”

“I hate to tell you but, no, she isn’t. Her body was found in a ravine off Duncan Street last night.”

The news hit Ari like a ton of bricks. “Oh, no. What happened?”

“Can you tell me the last time you saw her?”

“I’ll have to look it up, but it’s been a couple of weeks. She missed our last several appointments and I had a warrant out for her to be picked up by Apprehension Services.” Ari spun her desk chair around and scrambled for Maria’s file in the cabinet.

“We’re going to need whatever information you have on her.”

“Of course.”

“Do you know if she was having any problems?” he asked.

“Nothing more than usual. She had a pregnancy scare last year. Truancy problems. Fights at home.”

“The crime scene wasn’t pretty. Whoever did this to Maria wanted to hurt her.”

Ari thought of the girl. Pretty and brown skinned. She loved sports—it was the only thing that kept her out of further trouble. She could only imagine that Maria put up a fight. “I’ll just get this file together and bring it to your office this afternoon, if that’s okay?”

“That would be great.”

“Have you notified her mother?”

“Yes ma’am. An officer brought her in earlier. She identified the body.”

“Okay, wow. Poor Maria.”

Detective Morgan gave the location and address of his precinct and Ari agreed to meet him there on her way home from work. She hung up the phone and walked to the office next door and broke the news.

* * *

Nick came by the office to take her to the police department. Maria had been one of his cases, too. Going together didn’t raise any suspicions other than with Rebecca who’d simply raised an eyebrow when they’d left together.

They hadn’t seen one another since the incident at the GYC. Ari called him after she’d visited Davis, but he’d returned late and they’d made promises to meet one another after work. Maria’s death changed that. Once they were in the car, Nick reached for Ari’s face, turning it so he could examine the wound. He sighed and said, “I guess it could be worse.”

“Yeah,” Ari said. “It could have been a gunshot wound.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he said. Nick gave her a lingering kiss.

Ari kissed him back, but with hesitation. They were still in the parking lot after all. When they parted, she said, “It’s true. Thank God Davis was there.”

“Thank God for that,” he said. She noted the sarcasm. “Next time you should decline any invitations. Your instincts may have been right. Sounds like that place is dangerous.”

“The kids weren’t involved. It was other people—outside the match. The event itself carried off without a hitch. You should have seen Curtis. He was so proud.”

Nick seemed irritated. She placed a hand on the back of his neck, running her fingers through the hair at the nape.

“It’s not the first scary situation I’ve been in since I took this job,” she told him.

He glanced over and said, “It’s the first one you’ve been in since we got together. I don’t like it.”

Ari switched the subject to Maria and the limited information the police gave her. Before Nick picked her up, Ari had gone through the moderately sized file on the girl. She’d made sure all her notations were up to date before she made copies to bring to Detective Morgan.

The Glory Police Station was located downtown, not that far from the GYC. Nick parked in the front lot. They walked through a metal detector and Ari approached the desk.

“We’re here to see Detective Morgan,” Ari told the young officer behind the desk.

They didn’t wait long before being ushered back to a small office. Detective Morgan was an older man with gray, short hair. A large man, he gave off an imposing vibe, although his eyes held the weary look of some of the older case managers Ari worked with.

His first reaction was a raised eyebrow at Ari’s bruised face. “That’s quite a bruise,” he said, pointing to the two chairs in his office.

Ari sat in one, Nick the other, and she said, “I fell the other night. It’s okay.”

Nick snorted. “She was involved in the shooting on City Street.”

“One of my clients is placed there,” Ari explained.

“We’ve got that guy downstairs waiting for his hearing,” Detective Morgan said.

Ari reached in her bag and pulled out Maria’s file. “I looked through everything and made sure it was up to date. I don’t think there’s anything relevant in there, though.”

“Can you tell me a little about her?” he asked, taking the file and flipping through it.

“She was a pretty good kid. She went to school because she was good at science. Maria was super smart, but boys and problems at home made it hard to focus. I know she took care of her younger sisters a lot. I’m pretty sure this is why she missed so much school.”

“I see she ended up in GDJJ custody because of truancy and chronic running away.”

“Yes. She’d been detained enough to cause concern from the court so they assigned her to us, but she was still technically in school and hadn’t committed any major crimes yet.”

Nick had a briefcase of his own and Ari was surprised when he extracted his own file. He opened it and offered it to Detective Morgan without showing it to Ari. “Juvenile court took these photos the last time she came in.”

Ari leaned over the desk and saw a photo of Maria, defiantly glaring at the camera. Angry, but Ari could see the glint of tears in the corner of her eyes. She stood in front of a gray cinderblock wall. Her hair was a mess, sticking out at odd angles and a smear of mascara rubbed under her eyes. But that wasn’t the alarming part. A large bruise splayed across her neck, mimicking the shape of long, slim fingers. Ari clenched the front of her shirt, knowing she had something similar to that on her own body—understanding the power it took to leave a mark so defined.

“When did this happen?” she asked.

“During her last detention.”

“How come no one told me?”

Nick shook his head. “Ari, I’m sorry. I didn’t know myself until I went looking for her file. But if you ask me, and I’m no detective,” he looked across the desk, “I’d maybe guess an abusive boyfriend? Family member?”

“Maybe so.” Ari thought back to all the times she’d been with Maria. Never had she gotten the impression she was being abused. Of course that wasn’t unusual. Victims were good at hiding. “She did have that pregnancy scare. I took her to the clinic. She said she miscarried but now I wonder…”

“Can I keep this?” Detective Morgan held up the photo.

“Of course. I hope it’s helpful,” Nick said.

“It could be. The attack has a personal feel to it. A boyfriend may be the right track.”

Ari tried to push away the bad feeling in her stomach but it wouldn’t budge. The past couple of weeks had been hard. Starting with the armed robbery, she felt like she couldn’t get away from all the negativity and crime. Curtis’s placement was the only high point in the last week and even that was tarnished. The dull ache in her chest and on the back of her head was a constant reminder.

On the way back to the car Nick noticed her mood and risked wrapping an arm around her waist. “You okay?”

“Not really.”

He nodded in understanding. “Anything I can do?”

Make it better, she thought. Make me feel alive. “I think I’m just tired.”

He leaned down to kiss her and warmth spread throughout her body. “I’ll drive you home.

Ari snuggled into the warmth of Nick’s wool coat. Okay, she thought. Maybe not everything about the last couple of weeks has been bad.

FOURTEEN

Nick accepted Ari’s invitation into her home that night. She didn’t push it—keeping it friendly, in the common areas. He helped her make dinner, including enough for Oliver when he finally straggled in around nine, beat from a long day of work.

“I know you make an okay salary, so I was wondering why you lived with Ari,” Nick said, taking the last bite of his dinner. “Now I know. That was amazing.”

Oliver rubbed his flat stomach. “She feeds me well.”

“Yeah, but Oliver kills spiders and mows the lawn,” Ari said.

“You two sound like you’ve been married for years.”

“Eh,” Oliver said, removing plates from the dinner table. They only used the table when they had company, preferring to eat on the couch. “She’ll be hard to replace, but I feel confident she’ll teach my wife how to make my favorite meals.”

Ari picked up the dishtowel and swatted him on the backside. “You wish.”

“I do,” he said, popping a kiss on her forehead. “If it’s okay, I’m gonna leave this to you guys. I’ve got a crap-ton of work to do before tomorrow.”

Ari followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room where he’d left his briefcase and a stack of paperwork. Nick stayed behind and continued rinsing dishes.

“What’s going on with all that? Late hours and extra work?” Ari asked.

Oliver gave her a mischievous grin and whispered, “I’m up for a promotion, but I’ve got to get this case prepared or it won’t happen.”

“That’s great!” she yelled before clapping her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, why the big secret?”

“I just don’t want anyone to know in case it falls through.”

Ari looked over her shoulder at Nick. “Are you still being competitive? Because I think you have him beat out in the job department. No way a court-appointed attorney makes as much as someone with a massive law firm.”

“Nah, it’s just a big deal case and I’m not allowed to talk about it. He’ll ask too many questions.” Oliver ran a hand through his curly hair.

“Well, I’m proud of you. And good luck.” She gave him a fast hug. “We’ll keep it quiet out here so we don’t disturb you.”

“Out here or in there?” He nodded to her bedroom.

“Gross.”

“I’m just asking, because last time it was hard not to notice. Anyway, I like to know if there’s any chance of walking into a half-naked guy at 3:00 a.m.”

“Shhh!” The last thing Nick needed to hear was about how loud he’d been the last time he was there. When, of course, that wasn’t him. “You promised not to mention it and it’s not like I haven’t had that pleasure a million times.”

He frowned. “I’ve never had a half-naked dude over.”

Ari hit him playfully on the arm. “Stop it and go work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When she entered the kitchen, Nick asked, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just roommate stuff.” She picked up a pot and began scrubbing it in the sink. “Thanks for coming over. Sometimes the job gets to me, you know?”

“I definitely know,” he said, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She felt his chin on the top of her shoulder, and his lips on her neck.

“That feels nice.” Ari could feel her heart rate increase with every kiss. She wanted more but Nick was always so gentle with her. So respectful. The fire in her belly craved something intense to drown out the sadness and guilt she’d been feeling.

She turned away from the sink, drying her hands on the back of his shirt. She reached for his face to pull him closer, to bring his lips to hers but he resisted, gathering her into a tight hug instead.

Ari buried her head in his chest trying to squash the feelings of rejection. Because that’s what it was, right? A rejection?

“Now that you’re home safe and Oliver’s here I’m going to head home,” he said, completely unaware of the turmoil Ari was going through. The frustration and longing she had for him—for something.

“Sure.” She dropped her hands. “Thanks for coming over. It was fun.”

Ari watched as he gathered his keys off the small table by the door and flashed her a quick smile before leaving.

* * *

The familiar buzz greeted Ari when she walked in the front door. That buzz sent a shiver of anticipation down her neck. Immediately, she turned to the walls, looking at the artwork. This was ridiculous, of course. Ari always got the same thing, maybe a little varied in size or shading , but each one of her tattoos held the same design. A star.

“Hey girl, how are you doing?” Martin said from behind the small barricade, keeping the customers out of his work area, yet allowing them to view his work in process. He glanced up again. “Jesus Christ, what happened to your face?”

“Long story, but trust me when I say I didn’t get the worst of it.”

“That’s hard to believe,” he said. “This have anything to do with your visit?”

“Maybe,” she admitted.

Ari got her first tattoo when she was eighteen. A star on her ankle, signifying her independence when she moved out of her home. It was also an act of rebellion, against her parent’s strict rules. The hum and sharp, specific pain of the needle proved addictive and she was back again in six months. That time to commemorate another first. Her first. Three weeks after that, she came in with a broken heart and added another star to the collection. The pattern continued for years. The road trip to New York City with her friends in college. Graduation. Her first job. The time she and Oliver made a bet and she lost. Her body became a road map of her memories.

“It’s been a while,” Martin said, coming around the corner. His hair was bleached super white. It had been black the last time she’d been here. Almost every inch of his body was covered in ink, except his face. He’d told her once that he and another apprentice practiced on one another. The early ones were terrible and led to other, more professional cover-ups over the years.

“Thought it was time to make a visit.” She hadn’t been in since her last one, the hardest one so far. Ari had asked him to make the mark extra dark, making the skin raw and bloody under the black ink. She’d just wanted to feel something that night—something other than the pain of her loss. This time, she was running from the rejection she felt from Nick. The only other option was Davis and that wasn’t an option. She’d ended up at the tattoo parlor instead.

“How you been holding up?” he asked.

“You know me,” Ari said with a shaky laugh. Martin was something like a therapist. Or a bartender. She spilled her secrets while in his chair.

“Where are you thinking this time?” he asked. Ari removed her sweatshirt and revealed a low-cut tank top.

“Maybe here?” she pointed to the middle of her chest. The purplish bruise was still noticeable. She wanted to remember it when it was gone.

“That looks pretty brutal. Accident?”

“Sort of. I was almost shot. That came from someone saving me.”

Martin nodded in understanding. “So where do you want it? Maybe here? The base of the palm?”

Ari looked in the mirror to see where he pointed and it was perfect. Right between her breasts, the center, anchoring part of her body. “Yes. I like that.”

“Let me get this ready,” he said. He pointed to her tank. “You’re going to have to take that off.”

“Sure.”

Ari waited while he prepped the materials and pulled her tank over her head. Martin did his best to be professional and not a perv despite how Ari sat only in her bra. He applyed the template on her skin. “This is going to hurt,” he told her. She believed him. Different parts of the body had more or less sensitivity. The spot she chose would be tender for days. She relished the idea.

“You ready?” he asked, picking up the silver ink gun and leaning over her body.

“I’m ready.”

“Let’s do this.”

Ari gripped the sides of her chair bracing herself for that first sting—the first wave of pain. Goosebumps covered her skin and she knew her nipples were erect, easily visible to Martin. She closed her eyes, sinking to the place where the pain became pleasure and once again, she felt alive.

* * *

The adrenaline rush from the tattoo still ran through her veins. The residual pain distracted her and that was why she didn’t notice the guys standing in the shadows on the other side of the street across from her home. She’d barely shut the car door when one walked in front of her bumper, while another came from behind.

Too late to get back in the car and too far from the door, she fought the urge to panic and tried to get up the driveway. “Where you running, baby?” the boy closest to her asked.

Ari flicked her eyes at him and took in the pale skin and scraggly hair. It was dark and she wasn’t sure, but she felt like she’d finally come face-to-face with Jace Watkins.

“Just let me by,” she said.

“Yeah, I can’t really do that,” he said. “I know you told the police about me being at that hardware store.”

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Ari lied.

Jace shook his head. “They’ve been looking for me and only one person could connect me to that robbery. I saw you there—and you saw me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. The police collected evidence at the crime. Fingerprints, that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, but I could have been in there at any time. You’re the eye witness.” Jace moved his lean body so she couldn’t possibly escape. The guy behind her stood just far away enough for her to understand this was Jace’s issue to deal with. He was simply muscle. “The funny thing is I’ve always known who you were. The only young, hot chick in that office. I tried to talk to you more than once.”

Ari tried to ignore the creepy look on his face, but clenched her keys in her fist. Where was Oliver? Or a passing car for that matter?

“Jace, I didn’t tell the cops anything, but this is only going to get you in more trouble.” She hoped to rationalize with him but after the story Hope told her, she wasn’t sure it would work.

“Thought messing up your car would help you get the idea, but you’ve been talking to the police. That’s right…” Jace laughed, when she realized he’d been following her. She’d felt it all along, she’d just hoped it was someone else. Someone who obviously had better things to do or he’d be there right now. “I’ve been following you for some time and it’s been a treat. You like to get around, huh? Dirty dancing at the club, meeting up with different guys. I know you’ve got that lawyer on the hook.”

He made a move toward her chest with his hand. She batted it away, trying to make contact with her keys, but he stopped her, forcing the keys from her hands. They fell to the ground. Jace aggressively pushed her up against her car, using his hips to hold her, while one, calloused hand covered her mouth. With the other, Jace tugged down the zipper on her sweatshirt, shocking her skin with cold, winter air. He smiled, flashing a row of gold teeth when he saw her thin tank top, and the cloth bandage covering her new tattoo peeking out from the fabric.

“I wanted to see it myself.”

Despite the cold, Ari broke out in a sweat. She felt Jace all over her. His hand on her face, his arousal against her stomach, his dirty fingers lightly stroking against her chest, toying with the bandage. She gagged and Jace’s face went from delight to disgust. “Don’t even think of puking on me, bitch.”

His hand went from her mouth to her throat and from the corner of her eye she saw his free hand go to his belt.

“Don’t do this, Jace,” she whispered. “You’re better than this.”

Jace snorted and opened his mouth to say something but they both saw a flash movement to the side. Ari used the distraction to get her knee between his legs, ramming it upwards as hard as she could. Jace’s face contorted and he dropped both hands. “Motherfucker,” he grunted, lunging at her. He was too late. Ari darted out of his reach and toward her house, yelling for Oliver—for anyone. She couldn’t get in without her keys. She banged on the door over and over until Oliver, groggy and confused peeked through the window. His eyes popped wide open and she could hear him scramble to get the door open.

“Call the police!” she shouted, locking the door behind her.

Finally awake, Oliver dialed 911 and made the report, even if somewhat incoherently. A loud crash came from outside and Ari ran to the window. Jace was still out there. In the throes of a fight with the Vigilante.

He came.

“Oliver! Look!” she cried and he rushed next to her. “That guy is destroying him.”

Ari unlocked the front door and went on the porch. She knew the mystery guy wouldn’t let him get away a second time. She winced as she watched Jace’s face slam into the tree in their front yard. She heard him beg for his life. “Don’t!” Jace cried. A similar plea to one Ari had made only moments earlier. “I didn’t do this on my own,” he said, between spitting out mouthfuls of blood. “I can tell you things! I’m not the one that wants her!”

The mystery guy didn’t seem impressed and kneed Jace in the back. He hovered over him and whispered something in his ear. Ari was too far to hear and the sirens wailed on her street. She didn’t take a breath until the flashing lights stopped in front of her house and the police spilled out of the cars.

The mystery guy stood up and faced Ari. In the darkness of the night, she couldn’t see his face, cloaked by his hood. He bent down once more, slipped something into his pocket and then disappeared into the night.

* * *

This time, the police invited her back to the station. “Invite” was the nice way to put it. Forced sounded so…well, forceful. Ari willingly went with Detective Bryson, knowing her repeated involvement with Jace Watkins and the mystery man was too much to ignore.

They made Ari feel comfortable—she was the victim after all. She was given a large cup of coffee and a cushioned chair to sit in. It was all very benign except she suspected it wasn’t. Four crimes in the past month, two involving the Vigilante. All of them involving Jace Watkins, a former client in her department. The police wanted answers. She didn’t blame them.

Detective Bryson sat behind his desk and pulled out a clean sheet of lined paper. The kind reports got filed on. Ari had similar paper in her desk. He cleared his throat and asked, “Are you feeling up to this?”

As though she had a choice.

“I’m fine, let’s get this over with.”

A knock on the door interrupted them and Ari was shocked to see Nick poke his head in. He gave her a sympathetic look and said, “I’m here to advise Ms. Grant during her questioning.”

“That really isn’t necessary and Ms. Grant hasn’t requested representation,” Detective Bryson stated.

“No, let him stay. It’s fine,” she said uneasily. How did he know she was there?

Nick touched her shoulder and took the seat next to Ari. If it annoyed Bryson, he didn’t let on. “Let’s start with what happened tonight.”

Where should she start? With Nick coming over for dinner? Rebuking her advances? The ritualistic tattoo habit? Ari guessed it had to be the tattoo parlor.

“I’d just left Marked, the tattoo parlor on Arbor Street. When I got home, they attacked.”

“Who attacked you?”

Ari told her story to Bryson and Nick. Slowly sharing the terrible details. She fought back tears, unwilling to seem weak in front of either of them, because she already felt exposed enough. This was not how she wanted to reveal herself to Nick.

“Tell me about the Vigilante,” Bryson asked.

“He came out of nowhere. I didn’t even realize it was him until I was in the house.”

“This makes the second time he’s been at a crime scene with you and Jace. Any idea why?”

“No,” she shook her head. “None.”

“Maybe he has a fixation with you,” Nick suggested. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

“I don’t think he’s fixated on me. He’s never approached me or anything.” Lie. Maybe he didn’t start a conversation, but he actively saved her life that first time. The box came to mind but she didn’t mention it. She was protecting him, she knew that, but why not? He protected her.

“Maybe he’s been after Jace this whole time?” She thought back to some of the things Jace had said during the fight. “Maybe all this is about something else? He said he knew information but the Vigilante didn’t seem to care.”

Bryson flipped through a report on the desk. “Jace doesn’t have any known gang affiliations, but it’s possible. The robberies do have a crime-ring feel about them.”

The detective asked Ari some other questions about the incident. Had she seen any of the other men? He told her that the one backing up Jace had been taken to the hospital and then into custody. Jace himself had been unconscious when the police arrived, the mystery man having knocked him out.

“Any last thing you can tell us?” Bryson asked as she and Nick stood at the door.

“No, not that I can think of,” she said. But there was one other thing. One thing she kept to herself. The mystery man moved sleek and quiet, like a cat. Ari knew only one other person like that.

FIFTEEN

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ari said. The early morning air cooled her cheeks and she wished for a cup of coffee. What she really wanted was to be back in her bed, but this terrible day of all days had just begun, and looked to only get worse. She took a day off after the attack in her front yard but that was all Ari could afford. Hope had skipped her first counseling appointment and Maria’s funeral was scheduled for later in the day. At 8:00 a.m., the day was already heading downhill.

Hope’s grandmother shook her head. A tight scarf wrapped her curler-covered hair and she wore a pink, flowered robe. “She was in her bed last night. I checked after I watched the Late Show. She must have snuck out after that.”

“I’m going to have to report this,” Ari said with a sigh. So much for second chances. Or third. Or fourth.

“I know, Ms. Grant. That girl just can’t seem to control herself.”

“Any idea where she went?”

“No ma’am, she don’t tell me anything.”

“Let me know if you hear from her,” Ari said fruitlessly. Her grandmother was sweet but no way she’d turn Hope in. She added, “I don’t want her to get hurt or anything.”

“I will. I have your number. She’ll be okay.”

Ari shook her head. “No, I’m not sure she will. I don’t know if you are aware of this but I’m going to a funeral today for a client. She was murdered and dumped by her killer. We have no idea who did it which means a murderer is loose on the street and he could be preying on girls like Hope. If you hear from her, please encourage her to come home.”

Ari left the apartment and returned to her car. During daylight, the housing project felt a little less scary, only kids and mothers were out now, heading to school. Still, Ari looked cautiously around making sure no one was following her.

Jace had been arrested, or would be if he ever woke up. The sound of his head hitting the pavement during the fight echoed in Ari’s memory. And the mystery man. She couldn’t get him out of her head, either. Was he a stalker? Her protector? Both? She knew whom to ask. She knew who taught the boys in this city how to battle like that. She just hadn’t gotten up the nerve to do so yet.

In the car, Ari dialed the number for Apprehension Services and gave them Hope’s description and the details for the arrest warrant. There was little now she could do for her but wait.

* * *

The funeral went on for hours. The room became unbearably warm and everyone in the church was borderline hysterical. This was not Ari’s first funeral for a client but they never got any easier. She sat in the back, fanning herself with a thick paper program, listening as the minister talked about the trials of sin. So far, he’d been speaking for close to thirty minutes and showed little sign of stopping. She’d talked to Maria’s mother and family already but they looked at her with judgment and disdain. She wasn’t welcome there, but it was her responsibility to come. Plus, she’d cared for Maria.

“You want to get out of here?” she heard from the row behind hers. She knew the voice and it set her skin on edge. Davis. The curse of a successful one-night stand was the involuntary reaction the body had to triggers. His voice was a trigger. Conjuring imagines inappropriate for a church, much less a funeral.

During the next hymn, Ari made a break for the side back door. Davis followed and she ducked into a small room in the narthex. She noticed his suit and tie. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I try to attend the services of our fallen youth.”

“Did you know Maria?”

“No, not directly, but several of my boys did. We’ve been discussing her death in our group sessions. It’s hard on them when they lose one of their own.”

“What do you mean?”

Davis tugged at his collar. The entire church was sweltering. They must have had the heat cranked up. “Do you want to get out of here? Go somewhere?”

Ari looked at her watch. Barely noon. “I’m on the clock.”

“Let’s call it a work meeting. I’m happy to fill you in on Curtis’s progress.”

Inside the church, the hymn had finished and a second minister stood at the podium to begin his sermon. This wasn’t ending any time soon. She nodded but added, “I’m going to hell for this.”

Davis opened the door and they stepped into the fresh, cool air. Ari took a deep breath.

They went to a local burger place—Ari’s favorite—and ordered greasy hamburgers and fries. Over lunch, Davis explained that, “The children of Glory are in a battle. Most fighting against one another, but all ultimately from the same beginning. Every time a child dies here it affects the others. Some become harder. Others resolve to fight. And the rest turn toward the darkness.”

“So you help the fighters?”

“I teach them how to fight against an assumed death.”

“What? Like training and preparing an army? That sounds a little out there.”

“Mental, emotional, and physical training is not the worst way to go. We’re trying to create strong minds and bodies.”

Ari wasn’t so sure about his vision but at least he had one. “Do you know how Maria died? The police have no idea other than a possible ex-boyfriend.”

“I have some speculations.”

“Care to share?”

Davis sat his hamburger down. “There are different levels of crime in this city. The obvious ones,” he held his hand up to his eyebrows, “they exist up here. Where people can see them and identify their attackers. The drug dealers, for example. The ones you see on the street,” he lowered his hand, near his neck, “then there is the next phase. The distributor. You don’t see them, but they are the ones funneling the drugs to the dealers and into the community.” He then dropped his hand under the table. “Under that, you have this deep system of organizers. The real criminals. The ones that walk among us but wear a mask of good. They run our companies, the legal system, the churches…”

“So what are you saying?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger, wiping his mouth before he spoke again. “I think the base level is using the kids of this city in a war, and Maria may very well be a victim.”

“Why do you think this? Why exactly?”

“Because she’s not the first girl I’ve seen show up dead like this.”

* * *

Nick rubbed tiny circles into the bottom of Ari’s feet that she’d propped his in lap. He was good at this and Ari gave him a thankful smile.

“So, the funeral was that bad, huh?”

Ari didn’t tell him about bailing with Davis. “It’s always hard to lose a client, but this one seemed worse, you know?”

He nodded.

“Normally, it’s a shooting or drugs. Maybe an altercation with the police, but no one knows what happened to Maria,” she explained. But what Davis had told her nagged at the back of her mind. He’d explained that it wasn’t the first time a young girl had been found dead like this.

He’d told her, while she’d tried to hold down her lunch, that there had been a series of crimes like this, that the police didn’t want to alarm anyone so they’d kept it quiet.

“But these are my clients!” she argued. “How can I protect them if I don’t know how to keep them safe?”

“Because even though there is a pattern, it’s unclear what is really going on here. Young girls. All kidnapped or missing for several days at a time, and then they find them like Maria.”

“Maria is the only girl on my caseload or from our office that has been murdered like this. Who are these girls you’re talking about?”

He leaned his elbows on the table. “Runaways. Young girls—younger than what you usually get assigned. Kids slipping through the cracks because no one is reporting them missing or truant. Every troubled kid in the county doesn’t make her way across your desk.”

“It sure feels like it,” she mumbled. “They all go missing from time to time, but in general, they reappear. Either in lockup or in my office begging for a second chance.”

“Keep an eye out for the ones with strange absences or weird stories.”

It had been impossible not to think of Hope.

Nick’s hands inched up her legs, kneading the tired muscles. She sighed at his touch, willing him to go higher. “Do you think this could be part of a bigger thing?” she asked.

He frowned. “What do you mean, thing?”

“Like, what if Maria’s murder isn’t the first one? Maybe there are other girls.”

“Is there any evidence of that?” Ah, the lawyer. Ari should have expected him to appear.

“No, not that I know of.”

“Then why are you coming up with this reasoning?”

Davis had mentioned kids going missing. “Hope’s story. I wonder if it was connected.”

Nick made a face and removed his hands from her leg. “This again? I thought we decided Hope was making this up? Plus she’s run away again, right? I think this is more about her having an addiction to being on the street than anything else.”

“I’m worried about her. This feels wrong to me. I don’t know why. She’s a mess and a delinquent and she makes horrible choices, but something else is going on. I just don’t understand it.”

Nick scooted over and wrapped his arms around Ari’s shoulders. “I know you’re worried. It’s what makes you so good at your job. I have a feeling that Maria was in the wrong place at the wrong time and someone did a really horrible thing to her.”

Ari felt all the emotions of the day building up and she finally cracked, letting out an ugly sob. “It just sucks for them, you know? Half the time I hate them for doing such stupid things and then I realize they can’t help but do stupid things because no one teaches them any better.”

Nick took her face in his hands. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs and gave her a sweet, soft kiss. “Then teach them. Teach them better.”

An idea flared and Ari nodded, letting it take hold. An idea to help these girls and to protect them from the dangers roaming around Glory City. She tilted her head, seeking affection from Nick and he gave it, pushing her back into the couch cushion and kissing her long and deep.

* * *

Nick left once Oliver got home, giving her the impression that Nick might have been babysitting just a bit. She wanted a boyfriend, not a babysitter which increasingly, he seemed to be. Sure, they made out a little bit, but it never went far enough and Ari felt increasingly frustrated. Her mind wandered constantly to her night with Davis and it was a signal she couldn’t ignore. She and Nick would have to talk soon.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, shortly after Oliver got home.

He was on his third bowl of cereal and held the spoon up in a small wave. “Night.”

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Ari settled under the covers. Reaching for her book, she stopped in surprise. On her dresser, next to the black lacquered box, sat her keys. She’d lost them during the fight the other night with Jace.

“Oliver,” she said, walking back into the living room. “Did you put these in my room?”

“Nope,” he said through a mouthful of cereal.

“Huh.”

“Where were they?”

“On my dresser,” she said. “Nick must have put them there and forgot to tell me.”

“Probably.”

Ari counted her keys on the way back to the room, noting they were all there. There was something different, though. A small silver square ornament hung with the rest of the keys. A sinking feeling hit her stomach and she laid the keys on the dresser, opening the box. Her fingers shook as she pulled out the piece of paper. Looking between the keychain and the paper, she realized the characters were the same.

The mystery guy—her mystery guy—had been there. Again.

SIXTEEN

“Ms. Grant, do we really have to do this?”

Ari arranged the chairs in the room for the first night of her group. All of the females at her office had been informed that attendance was mandatory. That didn’t keep Devon and a couple other girls from trying to get out of it. “Yes, you have to come. It’s a three-week class. Tonight is the intro, where we’ll just talk about it, but next week I have some guests coming in. I think you’ll like it.”

“Do we have to learn self-defense or something?” she whined. “I just got my nails done.”

Ari shook her head. “Boo hoo. Grab that stack of chairs and put them out.”

In the lobby, Rebecca had a sign-in sheet for the girls attending. They straggled in one by one, pushing the start time as close as possible. These girls never made anything easy.

Class started at 4:00 p.m. and at 4:05 Ari decided to begin. A couple of girls didn’t show, which wasn’t a surprise. Devon and Shanna were there as well as several girls who were close to graduating from the program. Ari had promised them if they came, she would dock two weeks from their time and suggest early release to her bosses. Two new girls on her caseload sat near the soda machine. Clarice and Nicole. Both experienced runaways. Hope was still unaccounted for, and Apprehension had no leads.

“Alright, girls, let’s get started,” Ari said, pulling up her own chair. She’d arranged them in a circle so she could see all their faces and encourage discussion. It was a tough group. One of them could give her the finger and walk out at any moment.

“What’s this all about?” asked Shanna.

“As most of you know, we lost a girl last week. Maria Snow I feel like maybe we could have done more to protect her and I don’t want the same to happen to you girls.”

“Whatever,” Devon muttered. “I can take care of myself.”

“I knew her. We were in school together,” Margaret said. “She died?”

“Yes,” Ari nodded.

Devon perked up. “What happened? Sounds like she was doing stupid stuff.”

“We really don’t know what Maria was doing, but the police think she was murdered. No one deserves that.”

“I heard she was working down on Stewart Street,” Clarice offered.

Devon snorted and looked at Shanna. “Told you. Girl was stupid.”

Ari looked at the Clarice. “Where did you hear that?” The girl ducked her head and mumbled something Ari couldn’t hear. “Clarice, I need you to tell me what you know.”

“I saw her down there when I was with my boyfriend.” Ari wanted to ask what she and her boyfriend were doing down there but kept the judgments for another day.

“Well, it’s possible. No one knows for sure what happened. But Maria wasn’t a bad kid. Nor are any of you. I’m worried, though, that someone out there may be taking advantage.”

“Advantage of what?” Devon asked. She looked ready to bolt.

“You. Your body. Your minds.”

“No one has control over me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I do what I want.”

Ari sighed. Getting through the tough exterior with these girls felt impossible. She noticed Shanna fidgeting in her seat and glancing around the room at the other girls.

“Shanna,” Ari prompted. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“Sometimes, when we go out, guys are creepy and weird. I don’t like it.”

“Sometimes, boys are inappropriate. Many don’t have the best role models or impulse controls. It’s one reason why girls need to be wary.”

“They touch you and things—like they own your body.”

Ari swallowed, fighting back anger for these young women. She nodded, affirming Shanna’s thoughts.

Margaret raised her hand. “I had something happen to me a couple months ago.”

“Do you want to share?” Ari asked.

She shrugged and said, “I was down on the corner hanging out with some friends. We were going to go to the playground and watch some of the boys play basketball. This guy came around. I didn’t know him but the other girls did.” She looked up at Ari from under her bangs. “He gave everyone some candy. One of the girls asked him for some weed. He laughed and said he didn’t have any with him but that if she went with him he could get her some.”

“Did she go?” Shanna asked.

“Not at first, but he drove back around later when we were at the park and I saw her get in his car.”

“Do you know her name?” Ari asked.

“Dani or Debbie or something. I never saw her again,” she said. “But it’s not like we were friends or anything.”

Margaret broke down the barrier and the other girls began sharing. They each had stories about dangerous situations and weird behavior from some of the boys and men in the community. Some of it was typical. Teenage boys were awkward and strange. Other men were scary and Ari had a renewed fear for the kids she worked with. Just before the hour was up, she took a shot in the dark. “Have any of you heard about girls being forced to prostitute themselves? Like being held against their will?”

Shanna shrugged nonchalantly, but Clarice said, “This one girl in lockup said she’d been held at a house for a month. The guy who owned the house made them do tricks for men. She only got out because she got arrested.”

“Do you know her name?” Ari wondered if it was Hope.

“Nah. I just heard her talking about it in the cafeteria. She got a visit from some dude, and they released her the next day.”

“Some dude? Who was that?”

“I figured he was her lawyer or social worker or something. I don’t know. I stay out of people’s business.” Clarice wrapped her small, thin arms around her waist defiantly.

Ari closed the group, thanking them for their candor. As they filed out the door, she knew where she needed to go next to help these girls.

* * *

“More,” she whispered. They kept their voices low. Coming to Davis’s office had been insane. Stupid. Completely unprofessional. She’d started it, like usual, coming in at the end of her work day under the pretense of needing to talk about work. Partially true, but she’d simply wanted to see him, share her idea with him. The idea of sex…in his office hadn’t been on her mind, but the GYC was empty and they were alone.

Things progressed between them rapidly, from a causal touch to a heated kiss. Before she knew it, they were skin to skin and her skirt was up to her waist. It was wrong. Incredibly wrong.

Ari felt sweat trickle down her back and around the curve of her hip. His or hers, she didn’t know. Bent over the arm of the leather couch she kept an eye on the door, convinced that at any moment it could open. The idea flamed fear and excitement in her belly, mingling with the arousal and desire already building. One damp palm slipped and she tightened her grip, bracing herself for Davis.

His appetite seemed as relentless as her own. Searching for some higher…feeling? Connection? Whichever it was, it felt good. Really good, and Ari arched her back searching for the feeling of his hard muscle against her softer curves. Like the sweat, she could no longer identify which heartbeat was her own. They both rushed through her ears.

“Keep going,” she begged. Davis only huffed in reply. Seconds later, her mind blanked and her body relaxed. He had an arm around her waist, holding her against his flat stomach. Her breath quickened and so did his motions and with one final push, he offered a strangled growl and fell onto her back. She remained upright as long as she could before turning and sliding backwards onto the couch, bringing him with her.

Wow.

“Jesus,” Davis said.

He ran a hand down her side, linking a galaxy of stars. “When are you going to tell me about these?”

Ari looked up at him. Handsome and charming. Fantastic lover. Strong and successful. But she wasn’t letting down her guard. “Someday,” she said, meaning “never”. Davis lifted his body and she heard the clink of his belt buckle. She still had on her skirt, but lost her shirt, panties and bra along the way.

“Here,” he said, handing her the clothes. The office was dark, only the shadowy light from under the door lit the room and the soft glow from his laptop on the desk. She slipped her clothing back on, stopping in surprise when she felt his hands on her back, linking the hooks on her bra. He sunk next to her on the couch, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his toned stomach. While she fussed with her clothing, Ari felt his hand carefully smoothing her hair back into place. What the hell was she doing?

He spoke first. “That was—“

“Unexpected? Inappropriate?”

“Well, yes, but I was going to say amazing.”

Right.

“So, believe it or not, I came here for a reason,” Ari said. She stood up and straightened her clothes.

“Other than that? Because that was a pretty good reason if you ask me.”

“That,” she said, with a little smile, “was a nice bonus. But I have a favor to ask you.”

Davis’s legs stretched into the middle of the floor and it was all Ari could do to not to climb back in his lap. “Anything. What do you need?”

“I’ve been thinking about these murdered girls and my clients and how vulnerable they are. I want to help them protect themselves.”

He nodded. “I think that’s a great idea. What do you have in mind?”

“I’ve started a self-defense safety group for my girls. Mandatory, as part of their probation. We meet at our offices in the community room but I thought maybe you could do a demonstration of some kind. Teach them some defensive moves?”

“I’d be happy to help you with that.” He smiled at Ari and swiped at the bottom of her skirt. “Anything else?”

Yeah, she needed something else. Round two, but that wasn’t going to happen. “I think I should probably go, you know, before the kids get back.”

“That would probably be a smart idea.”

He stood up and walked her to the door, checking the hallway and the gym to make sure no one was back. The building was silent. Ari picked up her briefcase and checked her hair with her hands. Davis guided her down the hall with his hand on the small her back. She fought the urge to run at his gentle touch. So intimate. Was that okay?

“Be careful,” he said at the door.

“I will.” She pulled her keys out of her bag and the shiny silver tag caught the parking lot light.

Davis caught the tag in his fingers and rubbed his fingers over the markings. “Perfect timing,” he said.

“What?”

“Those characters. It means ‘perfect timing’. Well, they’re numbers actually.” He noticed her confused expression. “In Chinese.”

“You read Chinese?”

“Some, yeah. My mother was Chinese. She taught me a lot.”

“Oh.” What kind of message was that? ‘Perfect timing’? Before Ari could ask more, a blue van pulled up and Peter jumped out of the passenger seat before the car had come to a full stop. He flung open the back door. Boyd got out of the driver’s side and ran to help him.

“What happened?” Davis asked, rushing to the van. Boyd helped a fair-skinned boy with red hair out of the car. His face was bandaged and a splint covered his nose.

Peter’s eyes flicked to Ari and he said, “Liam fell at the park trying to do a backflip. No broken bones, but he has a concussion.”

“The hospital let him leave?” Davis asked.

“Yes, we just need to keep an eye on him.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Ari asked. She noticed the boy from the main fight, Alvarez, helping Peter and Boyd.

“I think we can handle it,” Davis said. He gave her a quick smile. “I’ll call you about next week, okay?”

“Sure.”

Curtis climbed out of the backseat along with the other boys. Most of them were quiet, too. One had scuffed up knuckles and another had a puffy eye. She walked over to Curtis and checked him out. He had no visible injuries. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m fine.” He watched as the rest of the boys and staff helped Liam inside. Davis disappeared into the building.

“Davis is going to come to my office next week for a demonstration. Would you like me to see if your grandmother or mother can come? It’s about time for you to visit them.”

Curtis smiled so big he covered his mouth. He then dropped his hand and said, “That would be great! Do you think you can get them to come?”

“I’ll pick them up.”

“Thanks, Ms. Grant.”

Ari stopped him before he could go inside. “Are you sure you’re okay here? With the training and fighting?”

“It’s hard. Davis has a lot of expectations on us with school and group and stuff, but I like it.” He shrugged. “I’m good at the training. It’s weird being good at something, you know?”

Ari smiled. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Night,” he said and walked into the building.

SEVENTEEN

The following week, Ari directed Curtis and several other boys to clear an area of the community room for their presentation. She’d spent the last hour in a reunion with him and his grandmother. His mother didn’t come. In fact, Ari wasn’t even sure where she lived at that point. She hadn’t been at the house when she picked up Mrs. Wilson.

“Mrs. Wilson, you can sit here if you’d like,” she said, offering the elderly woman a seat close to the front.

“Thank you,” she said, using her cane to lower herself into the seat.

Ari checked her watch and scanned the room. It was nearly four. Davis said he would be there early to help set up and direct the boys. A different guy was there, instead. Attractive and built like the rest of the guys at the program. His long, blond hair swept back in a ponytail, which only proved to reveal his chiseled jaw. He looked like he belonged on a romance novel cover. He’d introduced himself as Aaron and seemed perfectly able to lead the demonstration. She ignored the pinch in her stomach and refused to admit how much she looked forward to seeing Davis.

The girls had slowly dawdled in. Each stopping to sign in at the front desk. “Where’s Shanna?” she asked Devon.

“I don’t know.”

Shanna definitely knew how to push her limits, including showing up exactly on time if not a minute or two late, but she wanted out of the program and attending the group session was the fastest way to make that happen. Ari couldn’t imagine her skipping entirely.

Margaret and Clarice found their seats among the other girls and Ari stood in front of the room. “Alright ladies, I invited the men from the Glory Youth Program to give us a demonstration on self-defense.”

She introduced Aaron and he came to the front of the room. Ari heard the girls whispering around her. She didn’t blame them. Aaron was hot.

“Good afternoon,” Aaron said. “Ms. Grant asked us to come today to show you some simple moves that could help you if you’re in a dangerous situation.”

The girls, who normally would ignore Ari and her efforts were at full attention. “I guess I should bring in more hot instructors,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Aaron called the boys to come up and assume several offensive and defensive positions. Once they went through the motions a couple of times, he called the girls to go up and practice. Surprisingly, everyone went up without argument.

“Sorry I’m late,” Davis said, slipping into the empty seat next to Ari’s. “How’s everything going?”

“Aaron is very capable,” she said. They watched as he showed Clarice how to elbow one of the boys in the ribs while stopping on his foot.

“He’s one of our best instructors.”

“It doesn’t hurt that these girls will do anything for the attention of a cute boy. Probably half the reason I’m having this class in the first place. I may be defeating my own agenda.”

“Ari?”

She turned and saw Rebecca waving her over to the doorway connecting the entrance from the community room.

“Now?” she mouthed.

“Yes! Come here!”

“I’ll be right back,” she said to Davis.

“What is it?” Ari asked. “I’m in the middle of that group.”

“You won’t believe what’s happening right now.” She led Ari over to her desk.

Ari peered over and saw the computer monitor showing a paused video. “It’s the mystery guy!” He seemed to be in a parking lot, fighting with some men. His motions seemed erratic and especially violent. “What’s he doing? Why is he kicking that guy?”

“I don’t know. Someone with a camera phone caught him fighting some kids and put it up on the internet. It just came across my Facebook feed,” Rebecca said. “I started watching it, but ran to get you before I finished.”

“Kids?”

“Yeah older teens or something. But watch. It gets crazier.”

Ari watched as a guy rushed to the Vigilante, stopping his attack. The new guy had on gray sweats and a black jacket. His baseball cap fell to the ground as he challenged the Vigilante, revealing short cropped hair. His motions were fluid. Skilled. For a moment the kid might have had the upper hand, but the Vigilante did something totally out of character. He reached his hand inside his jacket.

“Oh my god, is that a gun?” Ari cried.

He leveled the gun at the man in the sweats, who stood before him with his hands up. He’d surrendered. What was the Vigilante doing? Why did he have a gun? “He never caries a gun,” she said. The man glanced upward he looked directly at the camera. His movement was enough for Ari to see his face. She gasped.

“I know him. He’s from the GYC.” Raising her voice she called, “Davis! Come here! Davis!”

“What?” Rebecca asked.

Before she could answer Davis stood by her side and also asked, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Alvarez,” she told him, pointing at the screen.

He didn’t reply but felt his body stiffen. They stood silently and watched the screen as the Vigilante ordered Alvarez down on his knees.

“What is he doing? What’s he doing?” Ari asked.

The Vigilante lifted his gun and held it to the boys head. Ari shifted her body toward Davis but couldn’t stop watching as the Vigilante fired the gun. Alvarez’s body rocked from the bullet and dropped to the ground. The screen went black.

“Oh!” she cried, pressing her face into Davis’s shirt. Rebecca ran from the room, slamming the door to the bathroom down the hall. The sound of her retching echoed down the hallway.

Davis gently pushed Ari back and walked away.

“Wait! Davis, where are you going?” Ari asked, following him.

Without responding, he walked out the front door, slamming it shut behind him. The glass shattered from the force, sending pieces down to the ground like hail.

* * *

“What happened here?” Nick stepped over the pile of swept up glass. The maintenance guy was in the middle of replacing the door. “Did the kids get in a fight?”

“Valid assumption,” Ari said. “But no. It just broke when someone closed it. The glass must have been faulty or something.”

Ari didn’t follow Davis the night before. The group was still in process and she couldn’t just leave. Holding back tears, she thanked the men from the GYC for coming. None of them realized one of their members had been just been executed on camera.

“Let’s go to my office,” Ari said to Nick.

Once the door was shut, Nick pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m sure you saw the news last night. About that kid from the Youth Center?”

Nodding into his chest, feeling uncomfortable with their closeness. “Yeah, I saw it.”

“Had you met that kid before? I know you have a student there.”

“His name was Oscar Alvarez. Oliver and I saw him fight. He was very talented.” Ari was surprised he fell to the Vigilante, but she supposed a gun outweighed even the most skilled hands.

“Guess the Vigilante isn’t such a good guy after all,” he said into her hair.

“No, I guess not,” she agreed. Ari pulled away and sat down. If the Vigilante wasn’t good, then what did that mean for her? The two times he’d saved her? The two different times she suspected he’d been in her room? She’d suspected Davis had been the Vigilante but now? It was impossible. Who was it? “I wonder what happened, why he used the gun.”

“Maybe he decided to finally show who he really is? Whatever he wanted to prove, the cops are all over this. He’s now considered armed and very dangerous. Their top priority.”

Ari stared at the pile of papers and files on her desk. Shanna’s was on top. She was willing to give her another chance but she had to track the girl down first. She was so close to graduation that screwing up now seemed idiotic.

“What a mess.” Ari had to admit her caseload looked more and more depressing. Hope and Shanna were missing. Maria was dead. Now Davis would have to go to another funeral. She thought about how upset and hurt he seemed yesterday.

“Hey,” Nick said, rousing her from her thoughts. “You okay?”

“Just thinking about how these kids seem to be drowning. Either running wild or being murdered on the streets. I keep trying to find a way to help, but nothing seems to work. It doesn’t matter what I do or you or Davis…we can’t save these kids.”

A line creased between Nick’s eyes. “Davis?”

“Yeah,” Ari said. She shifted around some papers on her desk. “I really should call him. He was here when it happened.”

“Here? With you?”

She fumbled around for the card with his phone number. She never saved it in her phone. That would have made it too easy. “A group of his boys came out to do a presentation for my self-defense class. Rebecca saw the video footage and called us over.” She found the card buried under a pile of messages. “If I could only find the phone.”

She rummaged around the desk. A pile of folders fell off the edge, revealing her phone. “Ah.”

“So you and this Davis guy have gotten close?”

The question startled Ari and she forced herself to act naturally. “I wouldn’t say ‘close’,” she lied. She started dialing the phone.

“You seem like you have a lot of work to do,” he said. Ari glanced up and noticed the tense line between his eyes was still there. “Can I come by tonight?”

“Sorry, I have so much junk to do today. Every day, I get further behind. But tonight sounds great.”

“I’ll bring dinner.”

“Thank you,” Ari said. Nick leaned down and gave her a kiss. Warm and soft. Something nice to hold onto for the rest of the day.

* * *

Peter waved Ari back when she entered the gym. No one was at the counter, but he and a couple of the guys took turns in the gym area pummeling the tar out of a weight bag. Loud, angry music played over the speakers, so loud it made her chest vibrate. She guessed that was one way to get out the aggression.

“I’m so sorry,” she said to Peter. “You let me know if I can do anything, okay?”

“Thanks.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead. “You looking for Davis?”

“Yes, is he here?”

“Go on back to his office. I’ll get him.”

Ari followed the familiar hallway to his office. She paused before opening the door, wondering what she was doing there. Where was this going? How did the lines between her and Davis get so muddled? Was she there as his co-worker or secret lover? Did she offer comfort with her body or a sympathetic ear?

Confused but determined, she pushed the door open. She stopped herself from sitting on the couch. After the other day, it seemed inappropriate. They’d crossed—no smashed—through the boundary lines and she had no idea what to do. “What have I done?” she muttered to herself.

Davis appeared at the office door damp and clean from a shower. He wore a dark blue long-sleeved thermal and jeans. The smell of his soap followed him into the room, masking the sweaty smell from the gym.

“You didn’t have to stop working out for me,” Ari said.

“It’s okay.” He shut the door. “How are you?”

“Me? I think the better question is how are you?”

His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Managing. For the kids. The guys.”

Ari took a step forward, fumbling for words. “I just...” She held her hand out, wavering in its destination. She didn’t have to decide though. Davis grabbed it and pulled her to his chest.

“Can I?” he asked. His mouth right above hers. She saw the pain in his eyes and the pink of his lips.

“Yes.”

* * *

They only kissed. Slow and lingering filled with sorrow and pain. Davis led her to the couch and she sat in his lap. His hands didn’t wander, neither did his mouth. After some time, he buried his face into Ari’s sweater.

She raked her fingernails over his stubbly hair. He wanted to feel something other than the horror of Alvarez’s death. Ari understood this. They were the same. The same desperation and hollowness had led them to one another.

Feeling the need to connect, Ari reached for her sweater sleeve. She pulled it up to reveal the tiny star on the inside of her elbow. “I got this one when I graduated. Oliver and I drank too much tequila and we agreed to go get a tattoo. He chickened out, of course.”

Davis ran a thumb over the star, sending a chill up her spine.

“These three,” she inched up her skirt, revealing the tender flesh on her inner thigh. “Came after a particularly interesting night in Vegas. I should have tattooed it in glitter.” Ari dropped the skirt before he could touch her.

Davis looked at her with tired, wary eyes and she ran her hand down the side of his face, sliding her fingers down his sharp, tight jaw.

“The ones closest to me are these two.” She shifted and showed the two tiny dark stars on her collarbone. “I got these when my parents died.”

“So these represent events in your life?” His fingers ran down her arms, but his eyes stayed glued to the stars.

“Moments. Things I don’t want to forget. Feelings I want etched in my skin as a reminder.” An awkward silence passes between them. “You wanted to know what they were for. That’s what they mean. Scars of my life.”

They sat quietly together and Davis touched the tattoos that he could see. He took a deep breath and said, “My mother died when I was thirteen. That’s when my father opened the gym. He had been a fighter when he was younger. A boxer.” Davis pointed to the old cracked gloves hanging by the door. “To save me, he said. I had all this pent-up anger and energy and no mother to soothe it away. He wanted to teach me to use my power for good.”

“Sounds like a smart man.”

“He was.” Davis swallowed, gaining control over his voice. “When I was sixteen, he opened the residential program. He took in boys from all over Glory City, trying to make a better life for them. He had a gift for choosing the right kid for the program.”

“Kind of like you.”

He shrugged. “Every kid is a risk. There’s always a level of wildness about them. Can we really tame the streets out of them? He thought so.”

“Do you?”

He bit his bottom lip. “I’m not sure. I’ve made mistakes before. Like Antonio. My father made mistakes, too. The first boy we took in, he and I were like brothers. My father trained and educated us together. We fought and squabbled like family, too, vying for my father’s attention. Even after new boys came into the program, he and I were the big shots. That’s how we ended up doing the competitive fighting. Dad needed a way to contain our energy and aggressiveness toward one another. So he started these trials, pitting us against one another. Using the rules of the games kept us under control.”

“Again, he sounds like a smart man.”

Davis rubbed his face with his hands. “He didn’t anticipate our rivalry, though. Over the years, our anger only grew with one another. My brother and I fought over girls, school, work…anything. But the last fight. It was the worst. So dumb, but so bad.”

“What happened?”

He shook his head. “The fight doesn’t matter. It ended with my father dead.”

Ari recoiled. “You killed him?”

“No! No, of course not.” He brushed back the strands of hair that constantly fell in Ari’s face. “My brother and I were in the ring. Prepared to fight to the end, this time. To the death. Seriously. I wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill me.”

“That sounds crazy.”

“We were crazy. My father knew our rivalry and egos had escalated too far. When the fight got too rough he stepped in between us to stop it. Right when my brother leveled a massive punch at me. His fist slammed into my father’s skull and that was it. He never woke up.”

“Oh, Davis.”

“This,” he pointed to the gash through his eyebrow. “Is the scar I took away from that fight.” He lifted up his shirt and pointed to another one on his side, thick and gnarled. “This came from the last time I saw him. When he tried to take the GYC from me. Claiming he had as much right to it as I did.”

“He wants the youth center? All of it?”

“He thinks he has rightful ownership of it. We’re not blood—he has no legal legs to stand on.”

Ari tried to process the story she’d just heard. “Where is he now?”

Davis laughed darkly. “That’s the interesting question, Ari. He was tried as a juvenile for killing my father, so he was released after four years, when he was twenty-one. We had an altercation then,” he touches the scar on his stomach. “We agreed then he could live his life and I would live mine—just keeping our distance and peace.”

“Has it worked?” Something about the expression on Davis’s face told Ari it hadn’t.

“I thought so. I hadn’t seen him in years. He disappeared. Until last night. Until I saw that man kill Oscar.”

“What?” I ask. “Last night?”

“My brother executed Oscar last night. His death was a message for me.”

Ari couldn’t hide her shock. “Your brother is the Vigilante?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying?” A million questions ran through her mind.

“That was not the Vigilante last night. It was an imposter. That was Reg, attempting to wipe away all the good he’s done. Trying to hurt me.”

“But…” Ari didn’t even know where to begin. “How do you know?”

“Ari, I loved and fought with my brother for years. We had the same teacher. It was him.”

What was Davis saying to her? Or not saying? “Are you going to call the police? Turn him in?”

“I haven’t decided how to handle it yet, but promise me one thing.”

She nodded hesitantly. “Sure.”

“From now on, I need you to trust me. Completely. If he hurt Oscar he could hurt you, too.”

* * *

“You’re kidding,” Ari said to Detective Bryson. He’d called right as she left the GYC.

“No,” he said. “I hate to be the bearer of this bad news but somehow Jace Watkins got out on bail.”

“Why would they do that? And without telling me?”

“I can’t explain it either, Ari. Seems like he got himself a new lawyer and managed to get a new hearing set. The bail was high, though, twenty thousand. I doubt the judge thought he would make it.”

“Who paid it then? Because I can’t see Jace having a spare twenty-thousand dollars around, either.”

“No idea. The bail was set by a management company of some kind. The bail bondsman didn’t care. They just wanted the payment,” he explained. “Just be careful, okay? I’m going to personally do some heavy patrolling around your house, and I’ll let the rest of the officers know, too. If he comes back, we’ll catch him.”

Ari thanked the detective, but his protection didn’t make her feel any better. Jace had barely been stopped last time—and that was by the Vigilante who might or might not really be a vigilante.

Overwhelmed, Ari pulled into her driveway and slapped a hand to her forehead. She’d completely forgotten about Nick bringing dinner. His car was parked behind Oliver’s and she hustled to the door.

“I’m so sorry,” she said the instant she entered the house. Lively music played from the stereo and she heard voices from the kitchen. Everyone sounded happy, which was the exact opposite of how Ari felt at the moment.

“Ari!” Oliver called, when he saw her. He held out a glass of wine, which she eagerly accepted. She might as well drink the funk away. Veronica waved from the kitchen.

“Is he mad? I’m totally late,” she whispered.

“At you?” he asked. “I’m not sure Nick has a ‘mad’ button.”

Veronica left the tiny kitchen giving Ari room to go in. “Hi,” she said, resting a hand on Oliver’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Nick gave her a kiss. “Tough day?”

“Kind of.” Guilt settled in her chest. She’d spent the afternoon sharing secrets with her lover, not her boyfriend.

“Well, I brought over Thai. Enough for everyone. I thought we could all eat together.” He leaned into her ear. “And then maybe you and I could spend some time alone?”

“Sounds great.”

Ari excused herself, telling Nick and Oliver she left something in the car. What she needed was fresh air. This thing between her and Davis had grown complicated. And maybe just for her. After his revelation about his brother, he hadn’t said much more. Only that he would deal with the situation. She didn’t like the way his eyes had clouded over when he spoke about it. Or the way his hands balled into tight fists. Who was she to get in the middle of it? Except she was in the middle. Did that mean his brother had been visiting her room at night? Saving her from the criminals of Glory City? Except no, Davis said he wasn’t the Vigilante. Did that mean he knew who was?

Ari took a deep breath of cool night air.

“You okay?” she heard from the driveway. Veronica stood on the path that led to the back door.

“Oh, hey, Veronica. Just getting some air.”

“Well, you looked a little sick when you ran out of the room. Those guys are kind of clueless. I doubt they’d ever notice.”

“That’s the truth. One time my boyfriend broke up with me by text. I was crushed. Oliver offered to take me to a strip club and not the Magic Mike kind of strip club.”

“He’s a charmer,” Veronica laughed. “But for real. I know we aren’t close or anything but you seem a little stressed.”

“Eh…” Ari started. Where should she start? Missing kids? Mystery men? Murderers? Secret lovers? Her whole life seemed shrouded in drama. “I just feel a little over my head right now.”

“But Nick’s good right? He seems stable.”

“Yes, he’s very stable,” Ari agreed, not meeting her eye.

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “You’re not into stable.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, not always, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad, right? Because unstable guys—that never works out, know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I’ve been there.”

“But,” Ari said, before she thought better. “Those other guys, the unstable ones. They have a habit of getting under your skin.”

“Yes, they do.” Veronica leaned against the porch railing. “So, is there another guy? Someone who fits better with the tattoos and combat boots?”

“How?” Ari couldn’t remember exposing that side of herself when Veronica was around.

“Those tattoos are more noticeable than you think,” she said. “Plus, I’m a light sleeper. I’ve heard you come in late a couple nights. Once in a pretty revealing top. I wasn’t spying, promise. But it’s pretty obvious you weren’t out with Nick.”

The heat of embarrassment and guilt rushed to Ari’s face. “No. Not Nick.”

“So, ditch Nick. Go with the troublemaker.”

“I’m not sure he’s really available for more than what we have. Plus, I’m wondering if it’s time to settle down, leave all that behind.”

“Security isn’t bad. Believe it or not, Oliver may be the safest guy I’ve ever dated.”

Ari rubbed her face with her hands. “Ugh, I have no idea what to do.”

“Well,” Veronica said, wrapping an arm around Ari’s shoulder. “The good news is you don’t have to pick tonight.”

“You’re right.” Ari needed to think. To figure this out.

“But from the worried look on your face about the man serving us all dinner in there, I think it may be time to make some decisions.”

Ari rested her hand on the doorknob and sighed. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“Any time.”

* * *

Ari drained her wine glass and set it on the table. She figured if she was going to break things off with Nick, she might as well have a bit of a buzz.

“Did you hear anything else about the Vigilante?” Veronica asked.

Startled, Ari asked, “Me?”

“Well, anyone, I guess. I haven’t seen the news.”

“I heard there’s a reward out for him. From the mayor’s office,” Oliver said. “The senior partners were talking about it today. Sounds like everyone was kind of willing to let this slide until he shot that kid.”

“Do they have any idea who it is?” Ari asked, playing dumb.

“I think the police know more than they’re letting on,” Nick said.

Oliver leaned forward. “Why do you think that?”

“I talked to some of the cops today at the courthouse. This guy won’t get away with it. In fact, I suspect they’re pretty close.”

“Anything specific?”

Nick took a sip of wine. “Well, I hate to tell Ari this, but rumor has it, the police are very interested in the program Oscar came from. It’s possible the Vigilante has some kind of connection with the GYC.”

“What? Why?” Ari asked.

“You saw the video. The two men were pretty evenly matched. Oscar could have taken him if it weren’t for that gun.”

“That’s too bad,” Oliver said. “They’ve got a great thing going on over there. I’d hate to see it shut down.”

“I doubt it will come to that, but I could see some kind of investigation taking place. Or possibly removing the staff if necessary.”

Ari frowned. “The staff? Why? They’re awesome. What does this crazy guy have to do with the program anyway?”

“Like I said, I’m not sure, but it seems logical if the murderer is connected somehow. Why do you care so much? You only have one kid placed there. Surely Judge Hatcher can help you find another placement.”

“Because, like Oliver, I think it’s a pretty great program and I’d hate to see it get destroyed by some nut job.”

“I didn’t say it would be destroyed. Just possibly under more reputable management.”

“You’ve never even been there. How do you know there’s a problem with management?” Ari’s voice hit an unpleasant level and across the table, Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a bunch of courthouse gossip,” she said. She got up and started clearing the table. In the kitchen, she turned on the faucet and scraped the plates into the sink.

Nick came in behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “What’s bothering you?”

Ari shook him off and moved to the other side of the kitchen, digging in the upper cabinet for plastic containers. She glanced in the dining room. Oliver and Veronica had disappeared.

“So, you’re mad? Because of what, exactly?”

She turned and said, “Because…” Because what? He offended her secret lover? He called her mystery guy a murderer, which he wasn’t. Not the real Viglante, which had implications she wasn’t even ready to get into. Because she was ready to break up with Nick and a fight seemed better than, “it’s not you, it’s me”?

Nick leaned against the refrigerator, arms crossed. He was handsome, smart, and caring. He was everything she should want. But he wasn’t. And right then, there was too much going on that he didn’t fit into.

“I don’t know what my problem is. I just…”Ari paused. She held the plastic container tight in her hands. “I just think we should take some time apart maybe. I’m not sure we’re a good idea.”

He dropped his arms. And seemed shocked. Ari’s fleeting hope that he might have felt the same were dashed. “Wait, you want us to stop seeing each other?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Is this because of tonight? Because I know I can be argumentative—it’s in my nature.”

“No, it’s not that. Things are crazy for me right now and I just need some space,” Ari said, lamely.

They stood across from one another for a short, tense moment.

“It’s that guy isn’t it?”

Ari swallowed the lump in her throat. “What guy?”

Without responding, Nick turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. Ari didn’t follow but heard him gathering his coat and keys. She picked up a rag and started wiping the counter, continuing when the front door opened. He must have stood there waiting for a solid minute but Ari didn’t budge. She knew she was right, even if she wasn’t being honest with him. With no other recourse, Nick slammed the door and walked out.

EIGHTEEN

Ari entered Glorious, pushing past the group of people standing at the door. The DJ’s music vibrated across her skin and thrummed with her already excited heart. Davis said he’d meet her there at midnight.

A guy stopped in front of her and smiled. “Can I buy you a drink?” He was cute. A spikey fauxhawk crowned his head and four rings gleamed down the side of his ear. He lifted an empty beer bottle. Forward, much?

Before she could reply, a heavy arm slung over her shoulder and the guy’s eyes darted next to her. She offered a weak smile of apology and turned her head to inhale Davis’s scent. He hadn’t absorbed the sweaty, dank club smell yet.

“Hi,” she said.

He kissed her in reply.

She kissed him back, right in the middle of the club. Not in the back hallway, or behind the closed door of his office, or in her dark bedroom. It was public—for everyone to see.

She liked it.

Davis led her to the dance floor, stopping in the middle under the cracked hazy lights. Unlike that last time, the first time, when they kept an electrically charged distance, they danced. This time his hands traveled everywhere. Down her bare arms. Flat across her belly. She pressed close to him. Song after song. Until Ari couldn’t stand it any longer. When she was about to burst out of her skin, she looked over her shoulder and beckoned him with a finger.

He followed.

* * *

“I broke up with my boyfriend tonight.” Davis halted his kisses at her confession. Both their shirts were off and for some reason, Ari felt like it was the right moment to tell him about Nick. “I couldn’t do both. Not this and that. Especially since I didn’t really want that. Him. Not anymore.”

“But this?” he finally asked.

She touched the fine hair under his belly button. Her thumb grazed the ragged scar left by his brother.

“I know I promised. I made the deal. And you can turn me away if you want. I just wanted something…better than what I have with him. Even if it’s less.”

Davis rolled on his back, the back of his hand draped over his eyes. “I know the feeling.”

“What does that mean?”

“I guess it means that things are about to get complicated.”

Ari stared at the ceiling. She thought about those glow-in-the-dark stars she stuck on the ceiling over her bed in her parent’s house. Back when the only other person sharing her bed was her dog, Jerry, or one of her girlfriends having a slumber party.

“Complicated how?” she asked.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Ari. Not all of it is good. And like I told you before, with my brother on the hunt, getting close to someone is dangerous. You saw what he did to Oscar.”

“Well, Davis, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, too. I’m not going to be scared off.”

“Really? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one behind Jace Watkins coming after you.”

The thought made her blood run cold.

“I’m not afraid,” she lied. Then she rolled toward Davis and placed a series of kisses on his neck. “If it’s worth it.”

He slid one hand under the covers and between her legs, stroking the spot where she’d showed him the two tattoos the other day. Ari’s own hand traveled past the soft hair on his belly.

“Before things get complicated, can we just have one last night? Complication free?” Ari swung a leg over his waist and pulled herself on top of him, easing her body against his. Feeling how hard he was. His need. “Just one more night where this is enough?”

In the shadowy dark of her room Davis brought her to his chest. Ari closed her eyes and braced herself for him. She expected him to be rough—intense like the other times. She loved the way he rocked her hard, unafraid that she would break. He knew she could take it—loved it, even. He entered her slowly, the furor gone. Surprised, she moved with him, rolling her hips languidly. His touch seared, making her skin burn. Making her feel wanted. Worshipped. He licked the star between her breasts where he’d bruised her. He moved to the two under her collarbone and his mouth felt like a salve, healing her loss. Ari’s fingers traced the jagged and rough scar on his side, wishing his wounds away. Both had reminders of how much they’d suffered. This time they marked one another differently, with desire and affection.

Davis’s movements were so caring, so attentive, that when Ari finally felt herself spiral to that place, she allowed her heart to go along with her body—even just for this once. In the darkened room, her eyes met his and he breathed her name, and she knew he felt the same.

* * *

Davis left the way he had the other night. Like a ninja through the back window. Before he left, he leaned back in, easing over the windowsill. Over his shoulder, she saw a movement and pulled away. “Davis,” she whispered.

He looked and said, “That’s just Boyd.”

“Did he follow us?”

Pushing her hair out of her face he said, “I’m never alone, Ari. That’s how serious this is.” He kissed her so hard she felt it in her toes. “I’ll be gone for a couple days. Oscar’s funeral and everything. I’ll be in touch, okay?”

“Okay.”

She watched as he and Boyd both easily climbed the fence.

“Good grief,” Ari mumbled, latching the window and walking out of her room for the kitchen. Leftover Thai sounded perfect after a night of dancing and sex.

Three microwaved minutes later, Ari banged her hip into the dining room table almost losing the bowl of rice and massaman she carried over a glass of milk. “Don’t fall, don’t fall,” she whispered. It didn’t matter, though. She saw the faint glow of the television from the living room and stopped in her tracks. “Oliver?”

“It’s me.”

Ari spotted Veronica curled up on the love seat, her face lit from the blue screen. “Oh, hey,” she said. “What are you doing up?”

“Light sleeper.” She smirked at Ari.

“Oh, geez.” Ari sank into the armchair. “Really?”

Veronica nodded and covered her laugh with her hand. “Sounded fun, though.”

Ari glanced at the TV and saw an apocalypse survival show. Oliver’s girlfriend was certainly an enigma. With her long, dark hair and a perfect nose, she had that beauty-queen thing going on, but she kept seeing Oliver and she was into the apocalypse. She couldn’t be that bad.

“Do I look like a whore? Dumping Nick and then bringing home another guy?”

“Well,” Veronica said, looking away from the TV. “When you put it that way, yes. But, I’m not judging. I think you had to make a choice—and you did.”

“I guess.” Guilt pressed down on her for the first time that night. Was it wrong? And what did she choose? Certainly not a relationship. Was it just sex? Davis had only said things would get complicated. They already were. “Have you ever been with a guy that makes you just feel…alive? Like when you aren’t with him you kind of crave him? Like you just can’t wait to get another…hit?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah?” Ari asked. “I haven’t. Not until now. Not until this guy. I mean, he just left and I want more.”

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you made the right choice then—over Nick.”

“Yeah, but sometimes, it feels like it may consume me. At least what I felt for Nick was controllable. This? I feel like chasing him down the street.” Ari blushed after saying it. Why was she telling Veronica about this?

“Does he want to chase you back?”

Ari thought about Davis’s public kiss and the way he moved against her. She thought about how his hands parted her legs, pushing her knees to the side. The way he counted her stars, lingering over the new one, in the center of her chest. Like he knew. Like he knew she got the ink because of him. “Kind of. Yes. He’s always there. Like he needs it, too.”

Veronica yawned and stood up, stretching her arms wide. “I guess you’ll have to ride this out then. See where it goes. If the burn fades or if it turns into something else.”

She stepped over Ari’s legs and handed her the remote control. “What else would it turn into?” Ari asked.

Veronica gave her that same smirky grin. “Love.”

NINETEEN

Standing at the heavy, metal door, Ari waited for a guard to open it with a key. She’d gotten a call from Ms. Cox on her way into work. She turned her car around, stopped at the coffee shop, and headed to the detention center. Sometime last night, Devon had been arrested. After a ten-minute wait, someone finally came to unlock the door.

“Ms. Grant, awful early for you to be here.”

“Tell me about it. I figured I should just get it over with,” she said to the guard whose name she’d forgotten. Tall and thin. He had a weary look about him just like everyone else in this building.

They parted when they passed through the next locked door. Ari knocked on the open door of Ms. Cox’s windowless, basement office. “Morning.” She offered her one of the cups of coffee. “Thanks for the call. What’s going on?”

Ms. Cox accepted the coffee and placed it on her desk next to a large, looming pile of files. “I get emails at home when the kids are processed. I shouldn’t bother, but it makes me feel better knowing what’s coming at me during the day. I saw Devon’s name pop up and the associated charges. I knew you’d want to know.”

“Thanks. I’ve got a ton of work to do today and a staff meeting at ten. What were the charges? I’m assuming she’s not listed as a runaway. I just saw her and her mother hasn’t called.”

Ms. Cox thumbed through the files and slid one out near the top. “Says here disorderly contact and resisting arrest, but the notes mention her talking about witnessing an abduction.”

“An abduction? Does it say anything else?”

“Not really. I doubt the police believed her, and since she already had a record they just brought her in. I’ll call her up.”

Devon arrived with a guard fifteen minutes later. She wore the standard blue jumpsuit and paper slippers. Ari saw a thin cut down the side of her cheek, partially covered by a bandage. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ari. “Ms. Grant, you come to get me out?”

“No, not yet. You’ve got a hearing sometime later today or tomorrow. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

The girl eyed Ari and Ms. Cox suspiciously. “You won’t get mad?”

Ms. Cox rolled her eyes. “Girl, you’re in lockup. This is beyond mad. You better tell us what happened so we can try to help you. The uncensored version, too.”

“Okay, last night I went out with some friends, looking to score some weed.” Her eyes lowered when she admitted that but kept talking. “So we went down to the park, you know, where everyone hangs out. There was a pretty big crowd. Everyone was passing around forties and my friend Big Sauce said he had some weed to sell us.”

“Big Sauce?” Ari asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know his real name. He’s huge, though.”

“Okay, keep going.”

“Well, everything was okay and then I saw Shanna. I hadn’t heard from her since that last group.”

Ari was mildly surprised. And more than a little annoyed. “So she was down there?”

“Yeah, dressed to the nines. Heels and short shorts—even in this cold. I asked her if she was freezing and she said no, that she felt great. Then she got all giggly. I think she was high.” Devon took a deep breath. “She flashed her nails, sparkly and painted with leopard spots. Then she told me she could help me make some money. That Reggie, her sugar daddy, was looking for some new girls.”

“Reggie?” Ari felt like she’d heard that name before. “Who’s that?”

Devon shrugged. “You know, her boyfriend or whatever. A guy who pays her to have sex with him, but not a pimp. He buys her all that stuff.”

“So he has more than one girl, though? She’s okay with that?” Ms. Cox asked, glancing over at me.

“I thought it was weird, too. Anyway, I sure as hell don’t want no sugar daddy. I mean, gross. Screwing some old guy for nice nails? I’d rather have my chipped nasty ones.” She held up her hand in proof. “Plus, even though she looked good, she had some nasty bruises on her arms. I don’t know, maybe she likes it like that.”

“Like what?” Ms. Cox pushed.

“Rough.”

That information settled in Ari’s stomach like a brick. “So, what happened? How did all that end up with you getting arrested?”

“I told her ‘no thanks’. That I wasn’t interested. Which was fine with her, or at least she seemed fine. Then this black car rolls up. It’s nice and flashy. Too nice for the park. Shanna got this big smile on her face and said, ‘That’s my man. Don’t be jealous of my ride.’

“So, he rolls down the window and waves her over. He doesn’t get out, but I can see part of his hand and face. He’s a white dude. Which again, isn’t real typical down at that park late at night, bus Shanna’s part white, too, I guess. He sees me looking and waves me over, too. I shake my head no. I’m not about to get caught up in this craziness.”

“Did Shanna leave with him?” Ari asked, trying to keep Devon focused. She suspected the girl was just happy to be out of her cell and would’ve talked for hours.

“Not then. Shanna came back over and flashed me a Benjamin. She said it would be mine if I came with them.”

Ms. Cox interrupted. “Did you take it?”

“Didn’t get the chance. I wasn’t going to, but I wondered what else he may have up in that car.” She looked to the side. “Didn’t matter. The po-po came and everything got crazy. He whistled at Shanna and she ran over to the car like a dog and they took off. I was so confused and distracted that I didn’t even think to run ’til it was too late.” She touched her face. “That’s how I got this cut. I tried to climb over a stupid fence. The cops thought I was carrying or selling. I was just in the wrong place.”

“Right. Not at home. In bed, like your contract says.”

“I know, Ms. Grant. I was just looking for some fun. I ain’t no old lady,” she argued. “You gonna help me out in court?”

“Maybe. I’ll see what Judge Hatcher says, but the charges seem fairly minor.” Ari looked Ms. Cox. “I think we’re done here. She can go back up.”

Devon stood up when the guard came in to escort her back to her room. She stopped and said, “You need to find Shanna. That guy seemed weird. What’s he doing sniffing around ghetto girls? I don’t like it.”

“I will, Devon. Thanks for telling me about it.”

“She’s my girl. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

Ari put on her most assuring smile and said, “Me, either.”

“What do you think of this Reggie guy?” Ms. Cox asked after she left.

Ari shook her head. “I think he’s trouble.”

* * *

Oscar’s funeral took place that afternoon. Ari didn’t go. Making out in a smoky, dingy club was one thing, but attending the funeral for a boy she didn’t know because she was mixed up with his mentor seemed to push the boundaries of their teetering relationship. She wasn’t really in the mood to see him, anyway. Well, she was, if only to feel some heat on her skin, but not emotionally. Everything had become so confusing.

She’d worked out a plan for the night. Devon gave her just enough information to finally do something for her girls. Ari found Oliver sitting by himself in the living room. For once, Veronica wasn’t over.

Ari blocked Nick’s view of the television and said, “So, no work tonight? Or Veronica?

“No,” he said. “I thought I’d chill a little.” He craned his neck to see the screen. “Umm…I can’t watch crappy reality TV though your ass, Ari. Could you move a little?”

She stood her ground and took a deep breath. “I’m about to do something reckless and possibly stupid. Do you want to come with me?”

Oliver furrowed his eyebrows for a moment. “Scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, how reckless and stupid?

“Seven.”

After a moment of consideration he smiled. “I’m in. Let me get my coat.”

Ari drove since she had a vague idea of their destination. Oliver sat in the passenger seat dressed in full black. He fiddled with the heat and buttons on the front panel, trying to warm up the car. The car’s windshield wipers scraped against the barely wet window. It wasn’t exactly raining. More like an obnoxious spitting from the sky.

“You picked a great night to go out and...what are we doing? Something risky?”

“I’m spying on my clients.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“It means I’m going to spy on them and see what they’re doing. Or if I notice anything strange. My girls keep going missing and I want to know why.”

“So you’re going to confront a pimp? Yeah, that does sound risky.”

“Ugh, I keep telling you. S-p-y-i-n-g. Just spying. It’s just the park we’re going to is kind of in a dangerous part of town.”

“Well, whatever. Just let me know what to look out for.” Oliver reached under his jacket. “I came prepared.”

“What are those?”

“Binoculars. I figured we may need them.”

“You didn’t even know what we were doing, but you brought binoculars anyway?”

He shrugged and began cleaning the glass with a small, white cloth. “I had a hunch. Mostly because you’re so freaking nosy.”

Ari ignored him and drove across town toward Glory Park. The park itself sprawled over several miles. Biking and running trails crisscrossed the area, and a popular dog park used a large fenced-in section. Ari drove past the well-lit areas toward the section with the basketball courts. This was the only part of the park that was used after dark.

“Do you think they’ll be out tonight? The weather is miserable,” Oliver asked when he realized where they were headed

“The courts are covered. Half the people out here are doing business. They don’t care about the rain.”

Sure enough, the basketball courts were hopping. “So we just sit here?” Oliver asked. He double-checked the door lock.

“For now. I just want to get an idea of what’s going on. And to see if my girls are telling me the truth.”

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Oliver broke the quiet. “See anything?”

“Honestly? Not much. I think a couple of those boys actually playing basketball come to my office but they’re not on my caseload. There aren’t many girls out tonight, though, and I haven’t seen Shanna or Hope. But that car has been idling over there for a while.” Two or three guys had walked over to the car’s window since they’d been here.

Oliver nodded. “I noticed that, too. Drug dealer?”

“Possibly. Devon said Shanna’s sugar daddy drove a black car.”

“That one looks gray to me.”

“Me, too,” she admitted.

Ari searched the park again and frowned. “Do you see that guy over there? Behind the goalpost, in the blue sweatshirt? What is he doing?”

“No idea. But I noticed another guy up in the bleachers sitting by himself.” Oliver lifted his binoculars and adjusted the view. “Okay, so there’s a guy behind the goalpost, one on the bleachers and two others lurking around the edges. Who are these guys?”

Ari squinted, trying to see better. “Hand me those binoculars,” she said, holding out her hand. Ari held them to her eyes and searched for the men Oliver had seen. She spotted them all, including one more perched on top of a playground set. “Hold on,” she said. “How do you make this bigger? More magnified?”

Oliver spun the wheel that sat at the bridge of her nose with his thumb. “Try that.”

Ari looked through the binoculars and said, “Holy crud. I know that guy.” She looked at the other men closely and then gave the binoculars back to Oliver. “Look. Tell me who you see.”

He only looked for a second, passing over each person. He dropped the binoculars in his lap and stared at Ari. “Those are the guys from the GYC. From the fights! What are they doing here?” Boyd sat on top of the play set, which meant this was an approved outing.

“I don’t know. Oscar’s funeral was today. Seems a little inappropriate, right?”

“Maybe they just wanted to blow off some steam. They like to do all that marital arts stuff. Maybe they’re waiting for the playground to clear out. They’re keeping their distance.”

Ari grabbed the binoculars again and studied the men. Boyd sat on the playground. The other men weren’t really men, but boys. She slowly searched the area. If Boyd was there, then Davis could have been, too.

“Look,” Ari said. One of the GYC boys approached a group of guys and the few girls loitering around the edge of the covered court. “What do you think they’re saying?”

“I don’t know, but those guys are leaving.” All the men shuffled out the park entrance and down the street. “Those girls look pissed,” Oliver said. “I think they just lost their dates.”

“What the heck?” Ari said. The GYC kid waved the girls over, and with one glance in the direction of the idling car, it backed up and drove out of the park. When Ari looked again, the girls were gone and so were all the GYC guys. Except Boyd, who’d stood from his crouched position on the play set. “That was totally mob like. He looks at them and they just leave?”

“What’s he doing now?” Oliver asked, but Boyd answered the question himself when he leaped from his perch fifteen feet away to a high stone wall surrounding the basketball courts. “Um…wow.”

“I know,” Ari said, taking one last look for Davis. He wasn’t there, though. But someone told that kid to approach those girls. And someone gave that group the power to monitor and remove a whole group of kids and a possible drug dealer with one look.

Increasingly, Ari suspected she knew whom.

* * *

“Okay, so that last part? Not so risky,” Oliver said. “But this? This seems dumb. I mean you suspect this guy is kidnapping teenage girls. So you what? Go straight to his house?”

“I don’t think he’s kidnapping girls. Something’s weird and he’s first on my list of subjects. And technically this isn’t a house.”

“Nice. This place is huge! He could have a whole brothel in that place and no one would know,” sarcasm evident in his voice.

“Which is why I have to check it out.”

“Ari,” Oliver said in a serious tone. “I love you. And I know you like to push the limits. But this is idiotic. I can’t let you go in there.”

Ari looked at her roommate and best friend and gave him a hug across the center console of the car. “Oliver, I love you, too.” She unlatched her seatbelt and opened the door. “Call the police if I’m not home by morning.”

Oliver hopped out of the passenger seat and chased her down. Ari had just reached the GYC’s door when it swung open. Davis stood in the middle of the opening with a confused expression on his face. “What’s going on?”

“We need to talk,” Ari said. “Oliver is convinced you may slaughter me or something. Will you promise not to do that?”

They both looked at Oliver with his set jaw and puffed out his chest. Impressive, but there was no way he could take Davis in a fight. Davis gave Oliver one of those dude nods. “I’ll get her home safely.”

“See?” Ari said.

Oliver sighed. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re working on Stewart Street, okay?” He turned in defeat and got in his car. Ari wasn’t sure if he’d really just go home. She suspected he’d probably run straight to Detective Morgan.

“I’ll text you in an hour, okay?” she yelled but he’d slammed the door and started the car. Ari followed Davis into the building and he locked the door behind her, reminding her that Oliver might be right. There could be a brothel under the building. She just needed to find it.

Ari followed Davis past the lobby. He turned unexpectedly away from his office and pushed open a door leading to a different stairwell than she’d used before. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. “Does this lead to your secret brothel by chance?” Ari asked.

“What?” he asked.

“Never mind.”

“This leads to my apartment, where, for the record, I do not take prostitutes.”

Like he has to pay for sex, Ari thought. She relented and following him up the stairs. She focused on his tight green shirt and the way she could see the taut muscles down his back. Ari shook her head. That was not what she was there for. She had questions and needed answers.

Even though Ari thought the building only had two levels, they walked up a third. At the top, Davis stopped and entered a series of numbers into a touch pad next to a heavy wood door. He glanced back. “I have the best hopes for those kids,” he said. “But I don’t trust them near my stuff. Or anyone else, really.”

He held open the door and Ari walked through. She didn’t know what to expect, but what she saw wasn’t it. Dark hardwood covered the floor, stretching to all four corners of what looked like a studio apartment. The ceiling slanted upwards, peaking over a huge wall of windows. The space was meticulous. Gleaming stainless steel shone from the kitchen. Cool slate lined the fireplace. Ari eyed the rich, blood-red rug in the living area and wondered if it was an antique. The place reeked of money, something she never assumed Davis had.

From the door, she could see the twinkling lights of Glory City. The opposite wall held another long row of curtains. Davis said, “There are windows behind the curtains that look over the gym. I can keep an eye on things from here.”

“This is pretty amazing, Davis.”

“It took me a long time to get it like this but, yeah, it’s nearly how I want it.”

She surveyed the room again and noticed a half wall obscured what Ari assumed was Davis’s bed, offering a little privacy. The idea sparked warring butterflies in her stomach. Davis walked over to the leather couch near the fireplace and said, “So this is where things get complicated, right?”

Ari sat down and he followed. “Yeah, I think so. I saw your guys down at the park tonight.”

“The boys go down there when they can and try to keep the park safe.”

“Safe?”

“Yeah, everyone in town knows them. Or of them. They’re under instruction to keep things pretty calm or call the police if necessary. Their presence is enough to keep a lot of the troublemakers away.”

“Like scaring off drug dealers?” she asked.

He nodded. “Those bastards are like cockroaches. Turn on the light and they scatter, but they’re never really gone. They’re also not nearly as brave as you would think. They’re scared of trouble. They can’t make money from prison.”

His explanation made sense. Sort of. “While we were down there, I noticed they left with a couple of young girls.”

“Oh.” His eyes lit up in recognition. “The brothel comment. I’m not running a brothel.”

“I never thought you were,” she lied.

“They gave those girls a safe escort home.” He noticed her skepticism. “I’m serious. Boyd had supervisor duty tonight. They go in the van and if necessary, give any of the kids a ride home that need one.”

“Is that what happened that night I was here? When Peter and the others came back with the hurt boy? He didn’t really fall, did he?”

“No. He got into it with a couple of thugs.”

Ari stared at Davis, long and hard. His eyes looked so dark in the shadowy room. Finally she whispered, “And Oscar? Were you guys out keeping everyone safe that night, too?”

“Oscar was lured out and murdered by my brother. I already told you that.” His reply came out stiff and guarded.

She reached for his hand. “Since the first time I came here, I’ve known that something was off. That this was more than just a sports-centered residential program for troubled youth. What’s really going on here?”

“There’s nothing going on here, Ari. I’m teaching these boys to be careful and protective of their city. My father taught me the same thing. It was the foundation of our lessons here. Still is.”

“You’re using them to fight your battles. Like little soldiers.”

He pulled his hand away from hers and laughed. “They aren’t my soldiers. I’m not running an army here.”

“Davis, you train a group of specifically picked boys to fight. Masterfully. You teach them to take care of the city, defending the helpless girls down at the park and pushing drug dealers out of public places. Even fighting against the Vigilante—or his copycat. Don’t tell me they aren’t some kind of army. And that you’re not in charge.”

He didn’t respond. Ari couldn’t tell if that meant she was right or, if he was too angry to react. She didn’t plan to wait around to find out. Standing, she turned to leave, but Davis grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her back to face him. They were face-to-face and the anguish Davis felt rolled off his body in waves.

“Don’t hurt me,” Ari said quietly.

He shook his head and cupped her face in his hand. “I’d never hurt you. Ever.”

The sincerity of his words cut through her heart. He reached down and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt revealing his forearm.

“I’ve spent the last several months protecting you.” Lifting his hand, he unlaced the leather band he wore around his wrist. “It’s not an easy job.” Ari took his hand in her own and stared at the tattoo on his wrist, remembering the first time she’d seen it uncovered. The feeling of panic engulfed her—like it had that day in the hardware store.

Before she could react, Davis said, “I told you my mother died when I was thirteen. I didn’t explain how. Everything about her death changed my life.”

Ari knew the feeling. Her own life had been rocked the day her parents had died. “How?” she asked.

“She owned a small boutique downtown. The first few years, my father would meet her every night and pick her up from work, but over time, they got slack, and comfortable. I had baseball practice or football games and my dad would take me when she was at work. The night she died, I begged him to go pick her up. I had a feeling—no, it was more than a feeling. A sense of urgency to be with her. He and I argued and in the end I ran out, riding my bike down to the shop. When I got there, I found her bleeding on the street. She’d been murdered locking the front door.”

Ari bushed a tear away and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“My father developed an obsession with the fact that I ‘felt’ something that day. He hounded me and questioned me over and over again. I had no explanation. It was just a feeling, buried deep in my gut. But what he didn’t know was it wasn’t the first time I’d had that feeling. I had it the day my school bus was rammed by an eighteen-wheeler on the way to school. The urgency was so intense that I faked being sick to stay home.

“After my mother’s death, my father established a new motto. Vigilance. All the time. Never let your guard down, and prepare. And never, ever ignore your gut. He knew my sense of timing wasn’t random luck. It was a gift I had to cultivate. And if I had a gift like this, then others did, too.”

Davis walked over to the wall of curtains and pushed them back enough to see the gym below. “He watched me closely, and once he started the gym, he searched for signs in the other kids that came in. Who was exceptionally fast or had unusual strength. The first one he found was my brother. His skill wasn’t physical, though. His power came from his mind. Manipulative. He could charm the skin off a snake.”

“But your dad thought he was good?” Ari interrupted.

“He thought he could help him. My dad built this because he wanted to make sure we were ready and that the boys of the city weren’t using their anger for evil purposes. Like Antonio, the kid that shot at you. He had potential, but he squandered it.”

Ari stood next to him as he looked out over the darkened gym. “So you knew I needed your help that day at the hardware store?”

“I knew.”

“How did you know my name?”

He smiled. “I’d seen you around juvenile court. Judge Hatcher is a close friend. People talk about you and the work you do with the kids. It’s my business to know what’s going on in Glory City.”

Ari laughed. “People talk about me?”

“They do. You’ve invested your heart in these kids and people have noticed. I’m wondering if you may have a gift as well.”

“Like your instinct thing?” she asked. He nodded. She ran her thumb over the inked characters. “What does this mean?”

“Vigilance. We got them after my father died. To remind us to be careful with who we let enter our safety zone. We’ll never do that again.”

“We?” she pushed.

“Peter, Boyd, and the others. They’re all my brothers. My father raised us and we’ll raise the next generation.”

Ari considered the implication. “So they all have gifts like you do?”

“Yes.” Davis pushed the hair off of Ari’s face, trailing his fingers down her neck. His gentle touch lit a flare in her chest. “I barely got to you that day. There’s no way you would have left that store alive if Jace had seen you.”

“I thought you were him. Sorry I went so crazy.”

“Yeah, I know. You took a chunk out of my hand.” He laughed. “But I’m glad. Always fight, Ari. Even if you think you can’t win.”

Ari looked around the apartment. “Since it’s not a brothel, I guess a better description would be Bat Cave?”

“It’s on the third floor. How can it be a cave?”

“Lair?”

He shook his head. “I’m not a superhero, you know. No tights. No cape.”

“Uh huh,” she said. Davis moved one hand just under her ear while the other pressed against her hip. Ari shifted her feet and bit down on her lip, playing shy. “You know, I never got to thank you for saving me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You thanked me. Several times over.”

Fisting his shirt in her hand and pulling him close she said, “I disagree.”

* * *

Ari led Davis behind the partitioned wall. His bedroom was small, barely bigger than the bed. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and pushed it upward, revealing his hard, muscled stomach. She ran her hands over his chest while he unbuttoned her shirt, shivering when his fingers met her skin. “God, you’re perfect,” she said like she’d been wanting to for weeks.

Davis pushed her shirt over her shoulders and it fell to the floor. He ran his thumbs over the top of her breasts, smoothing her lace-edged bra. “Yeah, I could say the same thing.”

Eager, she brought her mouth to his and pressed her body forward until he fell back on the bed. Ari unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them off, laughing as he struggled to kick them to the ground. She removed her own and when she looked back up, she asked, “Commando?” with a lifted eyebrow.

“I wasn’t expecting company.” He propped his head up against a pillow. “Not that this is an unwelcome complication.”

Ari unclasped her bra and dropped it to the side of the bed and she shimmied out of her panties. He beckoned her forward and she climbed over his body until her face was inches away from his. “You still see this as a complication?” she asked, fighting a moan when his body pressed tentatively against hers.

“God, no,” he said, looking up long enough to flip her over on her back. He ran his fingers down between her legs and she tightened her grip on his back in response.

“Davis,” she whispered. He paid her no mind, kissing down her body, loving each memory, each star. “Davis.” It came out more insistent. She reached down for him, pulling him back up, feeling that he, too, was ready. He was just prolonging her misery. Or ecstasy. Or both.

“Now,” she exhaled into his ear, biting the lobe. She wanted him in her. Now. Just being near him was foreplay enough.

Davis filled her while kissing the star in the middle of her chest before moving to her mouth. He moved excruciatingly slow, his taut muscles rolling with each movement. Her entire body felt alive, pulsing with energy and fire. This man had amazing self-control and he used every ounce of it while they moved together.

Biting her bottom lip, Ari began to whimper, her breath coming short and fast. Above her, Davis’s, forehead creased and a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. With a final push, he pressed his mouth to Ari’s, stealing her breath.

With their bodies still connected, Ari whispered into Davis’s mouth. “Thank you.”

He laughed and kissed her mouth, nose and cheeks. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Ari laced her fingers through Davis’s and rolled so she could see him. “I have a question.”

Davis kissed the tips of her fingers one by one and said, “Okay. Go ahead.”

“I guess I understand why you saved me at the hardware store and from Jace that night. Like why you were there. But what about the club? And showing up in my backyard that night. What was that?”

“Yeah, that was different.”

“Care to explain a little more?” Ari laughed, poking him in his rock-solid abs.

“I didn’t know you were going to be there, I promise. We just decided to go out that night and blow off a little steam. The club loves it when we show up, so it was no big deal. Then I saw you on the dance floor and it was like that feeling? The one in my gut? It just exploded. I don’t think I could have kept my hands off you if I tried.”

“I pretty much felt the same way,” Ari confessed. “I hadn’t felt like that in a really long time. Not even with Nick.”

“Nick?”

“The boyfriend—the ex,” she clarified. “What, you haven’t seen him with me? No offense but you kind of suck as a stalker.”

Davis grabbed her in a playful hold. “I wasn’t stalking. I only came when I had the feeling I needed to. Or well, that one time in the backyard when I was just really, really horny.”

“Ew, really?”

He kissed her hard. “Yeah, really.”

TWENTY

The next night with a magazine lying across her chest, Ari dozed, half asleep on her bed. Her phone buzzed, jarring her awake and two words popped up on the screen:

Meet me.

Davis and Ari only had one meeting place. Passing up her usual club wear, Ari quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and boots. She knotted the oversized t-shirt she wore at the waist and threw on a coat. With her hand on her bedroom doorknob she paused. Oliver and Veronica had been watching a movie on the couch since dinner. Angry didn’t even begin to describe Oliver’s feelings about her late night with Davis and she suspected meeting him again at such a late hour would start a fight, so Ari took a page out of Davis’s book. She grabbed her purse and climbed out her back bedroom window. She almost blew it when she yelped from banging her knee on the windowsill, but managed to close the window without slamming it shut. Ducking past the living room windows, she quietly got in her car and started it without turning on the lights.

Glory’s streets were quiet and the drive to the club only took ten minutes. Since it was still early, the parking lot was only half full. The bouncer nodded at Ari, taking her entry fee and stamping her hand.

“How are you tonight?” he asked. Skinny and pale, he had the opposite look of a standard bouncer. But Glorious wasn’t really a rough club.

“Pretty good. Meeting a friend. You?”

“Eh, another night, I suppose.”

She smiled in sympathy and passed through the door, wrinkling her nose at the familiar smell. Sweaty and dank. Scanning the small crowd, Ari saw Davis hadn’t arrived yet. Did he mean somewhere else? Like the GYC? Even after their previous encounter, that seemed unlikely.

They’d left on good terms, both worn out. Ari could only trust that he’d told her the truth, that he helped those in need. She believed him, but there seemed to be bigger forces going on in Glory City than he revealed.

Ari took a spot at the bar, facing the dance floor and rested her elbow on the sticky surface.

“Want something?” the bartender asked from behind her.

“Just a soda, please.”

“Sure.”

There was still no sign of Davis, but Ari noticed a group of people stopping at the end of the bar. She leaned down to get a better look at the bottle-neck down the row of stools. Maybe he was there? Or one of his guys drawing attention? It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder to the bartender. He’d just placed a plastic cup of soda on the bar. Most of the seats were empty anyway so holding one for her shouldn’t have been a big deal.

Ari didn’t need to go far, though. It obviously wasn’t Davis and his crew. All Ari could see was some girl surrounded by a handful of guys. She must have been dressed to kill to get all that attention.

“What’s that all about?” Ari asked the bartender, when she returned to her seat. He looked more the part of bouncer than the bouncer did. Tight black T-shirt. Bulging muscles. Adorable, tip-worthy dimples. She took a sip of her drink. Ugh. It needed more ice.

“Not sure,” he said, running a hand over his shaggy hair. “She’s been here the last couple of nights. She comes with that guy, but then leaves with other dudes. She’s probably hooking.”

Ari frowned. “You let them do that in here?”

“No one’s complained,” he shrugged. “And honestly, I thought they’d be gone by now.”

Ari eyed him for a minute, astounded that he was so laid back about prostitution in the bar. Finally, she asked, “They paid you off, didn’t they?”

He smirked but didn’t reply. Why would he? It was exactly why that crap happened in the first place. People always looked the other way. Ari drained her cup of soda and pushed it away in irritation. She wasn’t one of those people. She didn’t look the other way. She fought for the girls who were left behind, used, and treated like dirt.

“Asshole,” she said, standing up. To her surprise she stumbled, reaching for the barstool for balance. Woozy. “What the hell?” She slapped a hand over her mouth. That was the second curse word in under a minute to slip through.

“Watch it,” a girl said after Ari banged into her.

“Sorry.”

Ari walked down the bar and pushed her way through the group of men. “Move, jackoff,” she said. They argued a little but she wormed her way to the front. The girl faced away from Ari, her thin, pale hand resting on a man’s thigh. She had on a tight black sequined mini-dress and her curly dark hair was off her neck, twisted into a bun. Loose pieces stuck to the sweat on her skin.

“Hey,” Ari said. She ignored the men and reached for the girl’s arm. “Are you okay?”

The man closest to her shot her a look. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you, pervert?” she shot back. The girl turned and Ari felt her jaw drop.

“Ms. Grant?”

Ari focused on the blurry figure in front of her. Why was everything so hazy? Her stomach hurt but she strained to see the girl clearly. “Shanna? What are you doing here?”

Shanna looked between Ari and the guy. She slid off the stool. “Nothing. Just hanging out,” she said. “You don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel good either, but we need to get you out of here.”

“You need to back off,” the guy next to Shanna said. “This is none of your business.”

Ari laughed. “You have no idea, man. This is so my business.”

“What? What’s going on here? I thought that guy was your pimp.” He jerked his thumb backward. Ari looked in the direction and through the fuzzy glare, she saw a mop of scraggly blond hair. He flashed his gold teeth.

“Oh shit,” Ari said, stumbling backwards.

“Ms. Grant? What’s wrong?” Shanna asked, holding her up by the arms. Ari paid her no attention. Instead, trying to reason through her muddled mind to figure out how this happened, she grappled for Shanna’s hand and started to pull her away.

Across the bar, Jace Watkinspushed himself off the dark, dingy club wall. The wicked grin on his face produced a shiver down Ari’s spine.

“Run, Shanna,” she said, but her feet no longer worked and her voice sounded strange.

“What? Why?”

It didn’t matter anyway. It was too late. The seconds it took Jace to reach her weren’t enough to get away, even if she had all her faculties. Before she could respond, his face was in hers. He wrapped his hands around her upper arm and squeezed.

“Finally,” he said, his breath reeking of beer. “We can finish this.”

TWENTY ONE

“Go away, Oliver,” Ari mumbled into her pillow. He relentlessly pounded on her door. What the heck? He knew she liked to sleep in on weekends. Rolling over, she seized her head.

“Ow.”

It was then that she realized the pounding came from her ears and above her temple. The room itself was silent.

And dark.

Ari felt her soft pillow and lightweight quilt but pushed them back because her skin felt feverish. “Ugh,” she groaned. Her whole body ached. What was that smell? She sniffed the quilt. The detergent was perfumed and only added to the throbbing headache. Carefully, she sat up and noted the darkness of her room. Usually there was a least a slit of light near the window. Right then, everything was swallowed in black.

Instinctively, she ran a hand under her pillow for her phone but it wasn’t there. Not a surprise since she didn’t remember coming home the night before. She didn’t remember anything past the text message from Davis and slipping out the window. Did she meet him? Did she bring him home? She felt around and wondered who put her in her pajamas. Shorts and a tank top. Ari fumbled in the dark for her bedside lamp, knocking something over in the process. She found the tiny knob on the lamp and turned it, lighting up the room.

“Oh, God.”

Ari was not in her room.

Or her house.

Ari’s heart leaped in her throat and she stood up, letting the sheets and quilt fall to the side.

This was not her room but everything looked the same. Exactly. The furniture and rug under her feet. The painting of four crows hanging on the wall behind the dresser—the one she bought at the tiny art fair downtown. The books on the bookshelf—shelved identically. The antique crystal door knob. Slowly, she acknowledged that not everything was the same. Not exactly. Ari ran her hand down the wall and felt the bumpy surface of cinderblock, not the plaster of her room. And the floor wasn’t hardwood. Under the rug, cold, gray cement peeked out around the edges.

She ran to the wall lined with curtains. Throwing them aside, she cried out when she saw nothing but a blank, solid wall behind them. That was why she didn’t see light. Her heart hammered, competing with the drumming of her headache. She needed to get out of there. Where ever there might be.

Barefoot and barely dressed, she ran to the door, jiggling the knob. Unsurprisingly, it was locked but she persevered, shaking and yanking on the door until it flew open. What she didn’t expect was who was waiting for her on the other side.

Hope.

* * *

She stood before her in tight black shorts and a tighter black halter top. Her hair was braided to perfection and tiny diamonds glittered in her ears. Ari’s missing client held out a tray of food. “Take it,” Hope said. Her eyes listed slightly to the side and her shoulders slouched. A far cry from the firery girl she’d seen a couple weeks ago.

“Hope, are you okay? Where are we?”

The girl shrugged. “Take this and eat. He’ll be down later.”

“Who will be down? And we need to get out of here!”

Hope shoved the tray into her hands and walked out.

“Wait!” Ari dropped the tray of food and rushed to the door, kicking a bottle of water across the room. Hope locked the door with a solid, loud click from the other side. “Hope! Come back!”

The sudden movement brought on a wave of nausea and Ari grabbed her waist, searching for something to vomit into. She found a wastebasket near the dresser and retched until there was nothing left.

TWENTY TWO

Ari woke in bed. The same bed with the funny detergent smell from before, and no light coming from under the curtains. She winced, sitting up. Her stomach and head ached from vomiting. The tray she’d dropped to the floor earlier had been cleaned up and neatly set on the bedside table. Ari grabbed the bottle of water and chugged it, fighting off dehydration. With a mouthful of water, she realized Jace Watkinssat in the corner, rocking lazily, back and forth.

Her mouthful of water sprayed across the bed. “What the—?” she sputtered. “You did this?”

She’d been afraid before, but right then, her veins ran ice cold.

“I got you here,” he said, his gold tooth flashing in the lamplight.

“Why?” Ari asked. “I’ve never done anything to you—I don’t think the police would have arrested you for the robbery if you hadn’t shown up that night at my house.” She cursed herself for thinking of Jace that night. He’d been terrifying. Violent and predatory.

“You think this is about me?” He laughed, rocking faster in his chair. “You’re a blip on my radar, girl. If I’d wanted you dead you would have been dead. He’s got a soft spot for you.”

“Who?”

He continued rocking, back and forth, rhythmically. “What’s it like?” he asked. “Playing God with children’s lives. Making decisions about who stays at home and who’s sent away?”

Ari frowned. “Playing God? What are you talking about?”

“You!” he shouted. “You and those other caseworkers, acting like you’re helping people, when all you do is tear families apart. Sending us hours from home. Locking us up with other criminals and perverts.” Jace had a strange look on his face, his blue eyes glazed over. “All while living in your nice house, driving a fancy car, and worse than that,” he laughed. “You—whoring it up all over town—you’re no better than the rest of the sluts on your caseload.”

Ari jumped to her feet. “I’ve never torn any families apart! You guys do the damage way before I get there. And my house is tiny. My car has a ninety-thousand miles on it from driving kids all over the freaking state and,” she took a deep breath. “I. Am. Not. A. Whore.”

Jace froze and the rocker abruptly stopped. Tilting his head, he stood up, never taking his eyes off Ari. The backs of her knees hit the mattress and she fell, stopping herself with an outstretched hand. “I’m…” she started, but the apology on the tip of her tongue wouldn’t come. Apologize to this creep? Her kidnapper? She didn’t have it in her.

Jace closed the distance in two long strides and he grasped her chin, jerking Ari forward. She remembered what Hope told her about him, and how he’d hurt her when she was a child. She remembered what he wanted to do to her that night outside her house before the Vigilante—Davis—had saved her. The eyes she looked into weren’t rational. They belonged to a wild, feral animal. Swallowing her pride she said, “I’m sorry your life has been like this Jace. It sucks. The system sucks. ”

He narrowed his eyes and Ari took her chance. She slammed her foot down on his instep and pushed the heel of her hand to his nose just like they’d learned at the self-defense class.

“Shit!” Jace yelled, clutching his face. Blood dripped between his fingers.

Ari ran to the door and down the dark hallway, stumbling at the bottom of a set of stairs.

“Come back here, bitch,” she heard Jace scream. Her heart lodged in her throat and she knew if she didn’t get out of there, he’d kill her.

Or worse.

She scrambled up the stairwell, two steps at a time. Jace was so close she could hear his strained breath. Fingers swiped at her back and a shadow passed across the threshold. “Oh God!” she cried out, “Help me!”

“Ari!”

She peered into the dark and cried in relief. “Nick! Help!”

Ari made a break, up the final steps, tears welled in her eyes. “Nick,” she sobbed, running to the top step. He stood in the opening, arms wide. She barely stopped when she got to him, tugging on his hand. “We have to get out of here. Get Hope. Call the police,” she rambled. “Jace, he drugged me, dragged me down here…come on!” She ran out the door, trying to pull him with her, but he didn’t budge. Finally, she stopped, looking down the stairwell at Jace. The two men looked at one another. Neither seemed surprised to see the other.

“No,” Ari whispered, shaking her head.

“Come here,” Nick said, forcing her into a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you.”

* * *

Dazed and completely confused, Ari went back to her room without a fight. Once the door closed behind the three of them, she tried to speak, “Nick…”

“Do you like your room?” he asked, quietly. “I thought it would feel comfortable. Less transitional. Jace worked hard on it for weeks.”

“Yeah,” Jace said, blotting his nose with his shirt. “I would have laid the hardwood if I hadn’t been arrested that night outside of your house. I wasn’t really going to hurt you, you know.”

“I don’t understand,” Ari started. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend what was happening.

“Understand. I know. It’s a lot to take in and you’ve had a rough night. You’re right. Jace did drug you, but only for your own protection.”

“No, he had Shanna at the bar and...” She tried to rationalize the situation. She couldn’t. “Why did you bring me here?”

Nick smiled. The smile that used to reassure her. Calm her. “Because we’re good together. Out there, you’re just distracted. Work, clients, nightclubs, and Vigilantes. Here we can focus on each other. Plus there’s plenty of work to be done right here. My girls could use a companion with a little compassion. I’m afraid Jace and I aren’t really the most empathetic housemates.”

Afraid she already knew the answer, Ari didn’t want to ask. But she had to. She had to know. “Your girls?”

“Don’t be coy. You know what I’ve been doing, even if you never caught on that it was me. I’ve been acquiring them up one by one. In fact,” he said with a thoughtful look. “You basically lead me to them. The brightest of your lot. That’s not saying much, since not one of them even has a promising academic future but they’re generally compliant. Hard workers. They do love you as much as you love them. I figured if you cared about them so much then they really must be special.

“Special?” Ari hated to even ask. She felt sick. Like she might vomit.

“Sexually mature. Aggressive. Each with a history of prostitution. There’s a ton of money to be made here and they already had an understanding about how all this works. They prefer to call me their sugar daddy—or they did at first,” he smiled. “But really, I picked the girls that would make you happiest to be around.”

“No, Nick, no, this doesn’t make me happy. This is wrong. This is crazy!” Ari shouted. “This is certifiable. You’re risking everything on some teenage-girl prostitution ring?”

His eyes darkened and he grabbed her by the wrist. “I know this is an adjustment. I know it will be hard, but you don’t have a choice. I gave you a choice and you picked the wrong one. The wrong man. I will not let that happen again.”

Ari realized then that he knew about her and Davis. What else did he know? “He’ll come for me,” she spat, struggling to get away. “He’ll find you and rip you limb to limb.”

“Not if I get to him first,” Nick replied, easing the grasp he had on Ari’s wrist. He lifted her hand, pressing his lips against her skin. “I’ll be back when you’ve calmed down a little. If you need something, there’s a button you can push by your bed. Someone will come down.”

Wrenching her hand away, Ari recoiled as he and Jace left the room, locking the door behind them.

* * *

Ari spent the next fifteen minutes tearing the room apart. Ripping down the false curtains, flinging clothing out of the closet, stripping the bed. There had to be something that could help her get out of here, she thought, while moving the dresser away from the wall. Nick had lost his mind—if he’d ever had control over it in the first place.

Other than the obvious furnishings and a couple pieces of clothing in the closet, there was nothing useful in the room. Nothing, Ari noted, that she could even really use as a weapon. How long had he planned this? Jace said he’d been unable to complete the hardwood flooring because he’d been in jail. She thought back to when he’d been arrested. That was a few weeks ago, way before she broke up with Nick. That meant he’d planned on trapping her here even if they hadn’t have broken up.

Ari ran to the bookshelf. She grabbed a handful of books and threw them at the door, each one landing with a loud thud. “Let me out, you sick bastard!” she screamed. “He’ll find me!” she threatened, throwing the final book, a thick hardback. Even with the jarring noise, her words fell empty. Davis had no idea how to find her. She sneaked out of the house on Oliver—dangerously leaving him no clue where she’d gone. No family to look for her. Oliver would never suspect Nick.

The harsh reality struck Ari and she kicked the books scattered across the floor, like a child having a tantrum. Her rage turned to tears and she fell face-first on her stripped mattress, acknowledging, for the first time, that she was completely screwed.

There was no way out of this room and no way anyone would find her.

TWENTY THREE

Ari knew someone else was in the room when she woke up. Terrified Nick, or even worse, Jace, had entered her room while she slept, she carefully opened one eye, preparing herself for the worst.

Hope stood at the bookshelf, shelving the books Ari had thrown during her breakdown. The rest of the room had been cleaned up. The curtains rehung, the clothes back in the closet. Ari noticed the quilt she’d ripped off the bed now covered her legs.

“What are you doing?” Ari asked, her voice raw from screaming.

“My job,” Hope replied without looking back.

Ari got out of the bed and walked over to the bookshelf. “Hope, tell me what’s going on. How did you end up here?” She cut her eyes in Ari’s direction and didn’t say anything. Ari touched the girl’s shoulder. “I can’t help either of us until I have more information. All I know is that I went to a club and woke up here. Oh god, is Shanna here?”

“She’s upstairs, with the other girls.” Hope’s voice came out flat and uninterested.

“How many other girls does Nick have up there?”

She didn’t reply, but continued to shelve the books. Ari spun her around and grabbed her by the arms. “Hope, I don’t know what’s going on and why you’re behaving like this, but I need you to talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I have to clean the room. That’s my job.”

“Who said that? Nick? Jace?” Ari saw a dark bruise on the side of Hope’s neck. That could explain her compliance.

Hope sorted the last book, sliding it into place, and she walked to the bed and pressed the buzzer. She must have been locked in the room with Ari.

“Where are you going? Don’t leave.”

The door opened before Hope could reply, but it didn’t matter. The girl left without a second glance. Ari understood why. She’d lost her trust in the real world when she’d needed it most. Why would Hope help her now?

* * *

“How long are you going to keep me down here?” Ari asked Nick the next time he came to her room. She’d started thinking of it that way. As her room. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since his first visit but it felt like more than a couple of days.

“Until I’m sure you won’t do something stupid.”

Ari snorted, but her stomach growled at the same time, covering up any insolence. She held her hand over her shrunken belly and looked away from Nick’s probing eyes. She’d been reading a book when he arrived. Now he stood before her, wanting something. She wasn’t sure what.

“You’re hungry. Why aren’t you eating?”

“I don’t trust your food. Or what you may put in it.” Ari knew they drugged her drink at the club to get her to the house. She also suspected drugs made Hope passive and glassy eyed. Ari had started to eat the sandwich they’d given her, but the bread had smelled funny.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

“What about the other girls? You’re hurting them.”

“You know how these girls can be. Wild. Disobedient. Different methods work on different people.”

His words chilled Ari, making her recoil farther from him. “I saw the bruises on Hope’s neck,” she said. When he didn’t reply she added, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Just being here is enough for now.” He opened the door and Hope came in with another tray of food. She set it on the dresser never making eye contact with Ari. Nick smiled at Ari, and he and Hope walked out the door, leaving her alone again.

* * *

Ari flipped the page of her book, thinking about how it would have been nice for Nick to have at least provided her with some new material. All the books on the shelf were identical to the one’s she had at home and had read a dozen times already. Dropping the book on the bed, she took another bite of cookie from the plate on the bedside table.

“Who’s Nick?” Hope asked.

Startled, Ari looked up. She’d forgotten Hope was in the room. Dusting or something. She came and went, still never talking to Ari and she’d gotten to the point where she just ignored the girl.

“What?”

“Nick. You’ve mentioned him.”

“Um...Nick is the guy who’s keeping us here. Tall? Handsome? Creepy as crap?”

“You mean Reggie.”

“Who’s Reggie?” Ari frowned. “I’m confused.”

“Reggie is my sugar daddy, well he was. Until he brought you and all the other girls here.”

“Wait,” Ari tried to figure it out with her addled brain. “Reggie and Nick are the same person?”

“I guess.”

“Nick is a juvenile-court-appointed lawyer. Are you telling me that’s whose been buying you stuff this whole time?” Ari remembered Devon talking about Shanna being with a guy named Reggie as well.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Is this his house?” Ari asked.

“Kind of. It’s a house, but he doesn’t sleep here.”

“How many girls here? Besides you.”

“Six, I think.”

“Shanna?” Ari asked, afraid she’d been hurt the night of Ari’s abduction.

Hope walked over to the dresser and opened each drawer, straightening the clothes inside. “She’s still here.”

“Are they all working?”

“Yeah. A couple on the street, but most of the men just come here.”

“Can they get help? If I give you a phone number, can they call? Can someone flag down the police?” Ari was sure that if one of the girls could contact Davis they could get out of here. He would stop Nick.

“The police don’t listen to us,” Hope said. “No one listens to us. We’re just whores and troublemakers.”

Her words felt like a slap. Ari deserved to be slapped. She hadn’t believed Hope when she’d told her about this place. Why would the police believe her now? Because someone with a better reputation was missing? Ari swallowed the bad taste in her mouth.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry. But I have someone who will believe you. I promise. He helps kids like you.”

Hope stared at her with dark, narrowed eyes. “So did you and look where it got me.”

“His name is Davis. At the Glory Youth Center,” Ari said. “Please Hope, trust me.”

Hope shook her head and left.

* * *

Nick sat across from Ari at the small dining table Jace brought in the day before. Apparently, he wanted to start having dinner with her. How romantic. The thought made her gag and took away her last shred of appetite. Plus, she only ate cookies. They seemed like the only thing he couldn’t drug and even then, she wasn’t sure.

Nick showed up alone, carrying a big tray of food, with two empty plates and wine glasses. “To prove the food is safe, we’re eating from the same serving dishes,” he said, arranging it on the table. “You’re too thin.”

The food smelled wonderful, way better than sandwiches and fruit. Beyond starving, Ari served herself a full plate of chicken, rice and vegetables. She didn’t even wait for Nick to serve himself, instead, shoving food in her mouth with her plastic fork.

“I’ve heard the name Reggie before,” Ari told him through a mouthful of rice.

“I’m not surprised. The girls call me Reggie.”

“No, other than that,” Ari said. “Davis called you Reg. I only just now made the connection.”

Nick flinched. Barely.

Ari took another sip of wine, feeling the effects almost immediately. “He never told me you were his brother, not really. It kind of slipped out when he was talking about you. He said the name Reg.”

“I’d rather not talk about that during dinner. Why don’t you tell me about one of the books you’re reading?”

Ari shrugged. “Why can’t we talk about it? Obviously it’s related. You obviously know I had a relationship with Davis. It obviously bothers you very much.”

“If you know it bothers me then why are you bringing it up?” He rested his fork on his plate and sighed.

“Why are you holding me captive against my will?”

“If you’re going to be like this, then I guess we can’t have dinner together right now.” He stood and began clearing the table. Ari chugged the remainder of her wine before he took the glass away. “I’d hoped this would be the beginning of a more civilized period between us, eventually resulting in you coming upstairs with the rest of the family. Obviously, that’s impossible right now.”

Ari jumped up and followed him to the door. “You keep saying this is about me, but I don’t think so. I think this is about him. You’re trying to hurt him through me.”

Nick spun, losing a wine glass in the process. It hit the ground, shattering into a million pieces. He set the tray back on the table and took a step toward her. “I know it may be impossible for you, but you need to learn to shut your mouth. One more outburst and you’ll find out how this isn’t a game you’re going to win.”

“He’s better than you,” Ari whispered, separated by a sea of glass.

Nick stepped forward, the glass crunching under his shoe. He pressed his fingers to his temples. “You don’t know anything about him.”

Ari laughed. “Okay, sure.”

“You’re right, though. This is about him. Believe it or not, you’re the only person he’s cared about since our father died.”

“Died? You killed him!”

He shook his head. “I’m sure that’s what he told you to make himself feel better. To make you love him. This vigilante crap is just his way of trying to be better than everyone else, without actually doing anything worthy. He’s a thug.”

“How can you say that? He helps those kids! He—” She remembered what Davis told her about Nick’s manipulative nature and stopped arguing. Ari backed up a little. “What do you mean I’m the only person he cares about?”

“Just that. He’s spent the last several years alone, building his little fortress and soldiers. Somehow you broke down the wall.”

“And you’re using that against him.”

“After our last altercation, I decided the best way to get back at himwas to become more successful than him. More powerful. I’ve managed to do this both in the professional world and the criminal. I had been waiting for the right time to reveal myself.”

“With Alvarez? By gunning down an innocent?”

“All’s fair in love and war, Ari. You know that.”

Unfortunately, Ari did.

TWENTY FOUR

Ari and Hope swept and cleaned the floors. The glass seemed to cover every inch of the room.

“Help me move the bed,” Ari said. The two of them pushed the bed to a clean patch of floor. Ari got on her hands and knees with a small broom and dust pan, searching for the tiny pieces.

“What’s that?” Hope asked.

In the tight space between the wall and the bedside table, Ari saw a black box. Her black box.

“I don’t know,” she lied. She didn’t exactly trust Hope. There was a reason Nick sent her down here every day, and it wasn’t just to unnerve her. Hope had gained his confidence. “Probably trash. Okay, I think I got it all. Can you push that side?”

Once they had the bed back in place, Hope took the dust pan from Ari. She casually said, “Shanna’s working tonight.”

“Where?” Ari’s heart leaped into her throat.

“On the street.”

Ari picked up the trash can and held it while Hope dumped in the rest of the glass, trying to control her shaking hands. “Did you get a chance to talk to her?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And we’ll see.”

* * *

Hope didn’t return the next day. Or the next. Jace bought food in twice a day, and when she asked about Hope he ignored her, only depositing the tray and leaving right after. Fearful that Shanna had been caught, Ari started to think of her only other alternatives. Suicide or murder. To survive, she might have to kill Nick or Jace to free herself and the girls.

The problem was finding a weapon. She should have kept a shard from the broken wine glass, but they were too small anyway. Nothing in the room seemed sharp or heavy enough to really be used to hurt anyone. She thought back to her juvies and what they used in detention. They seemed to be able to make weapons out of the most benign objects. All she needed was a piece of plastic or metal. She thought for a moment and then realized her bed must have had metal pieces that could be removed. She pushed off the mattress, leaning it to the side and studied the frame. Her eye was drawn to something different though. The black box.

Ari had forgotten about it in her excitement of Shanna going for help. She picked it up and wondered why Nick would bring it from her house. Surely he knew it been a gift from his brother.

Other trinkets in her cell were from Ari’s room at home. The journal from her desk. A hairbrush. Hair clips from her bathroom. Small things that she wouldn’t have noticed were missing right away. They weren’t replicas, but her real possessions.

The box looked the same, no damage from the fall. She opened it, finding the paper inside. The symbols from his tattoo. Vigilant.

Ari ran her fingers across the markings on the side, over the tiny gold painted flowers. She fingered the latch and tiny metal plates. The box was heavy. Too heavy to be empty, yet when she shook, nothing rattled or shifted around.

“What the hell, Davis? I’m starting to think your perfect timing gift is bullcrap and you were just lucky,” she said out loud, feeling defeated.

Closing the top, Ari set the box on the table and to her surprise, heard a small click. The end of the box jutted out just a bit. She pushed one end with her thumb and pulled with the other, revealing a hidden space.

Ari reached inside and pulled out the long, wrapped object. Barely containing the smile on her face, she knew what it was the minute she touched it.

Unfolding the cloth, she found exactly what she needed. A knife.

“Perfect timing,” she said, sending a silent thank you to Davis.

* * *

Ari had refused to push the button since she’d been there. Hope had used it more than once, but Ari couldn’t bring herself to do the same. There was nothing she wanted, other than leaving, and no way would she voluntarily call Jace into her room. But this time was different. Armed and ready, she pressed her finger to the smooth white button. She heard nothing, but paced the room with the knife tucked in the back of her shorts.

She had a plan. Once Nick or Jace opened the door she would stab him, hopefully in the neck. From her perspective, she had two advantages, the knife and the element of surprise. The thought sickened her and just thinking about it made Ari run her hands over the top of her shorts to dry them off. To make it out of there alive, Ari would have to be a murderer. She had to come to terms with that.

Minutes passed and no one answered her call. Normally, the door opened quickly after Hope pressed the button. Not today. Ari decided to try it again. This time she pushed it twice, not caring if she seemed impatient. She was impatient. For this to be over.

When the door finally opened, Ari frowned. Neither Jace nor Nick stood before her. Not even Hope.

“Who are you?” she asked the young man. He looked vaguely familiar.

He stood in the doorway with his cap on backwards. His dark eyes twitched nervously down the hallway and back. “What do you want?”

“Where’s Nick?” she asked, forgetting her plan.

“Not here,” he said with annoyance. “What do you want?” A loud bang echoed down the dark hallway and the guy shook his head. “Obviously, you’re okay.”

He started to close the door and Ari came to her senses. “I know where I’ve seen you before,” she said, taking a step closer. “You were there the night of the shooting. You were with Antonio.”

This information surprised him and he dropped his hand from the door knob. Ari took her chance, rushing him while pulling the knife from behind her back. Mustering up every bit of anger and rage she’d been holding back, she lunged. The kid reacted quickly to Ari’s attack, but the knife threw him off.

“Holy shit!” he yelled, throwing his arms up over his face.

Ari went for the only part of his body she could hit, his thigh, stabbing him hard with the blade. She yanked it back out.

He howled with pain, clutching the wound. Dark red blood started dripping down his leg. “You stabbed me? Psycho bitch!”

“I’m sorry,” she said on instinct, pushing past him, and ran into the dark hallway. For the second time since she’d been kidnapped, Ari had escaped outside of her room. Unfortunately, that was as far as she’d planned.

She moved forward, barely able to see in the dark, but toward the middle of the hall she found a shaft of light. The light came from the stairwell, leading to the upper floor. Taking a deep breath, Ari began to climb the stairs but paused when she heard a voice from the hall. A girl’s voice.

She stood still, trying to hear over her pounding heart, convinced she’d made it up. Ari couldn’t wait long. She hadn’t injured the kid that badly, just enough to slow him down.

Deciding she’d imagined it, Ari had just turned to the steps when she heard it again. This time she knew the girl’s voice was real. And needed help. Help, Ari knew, was up those stairs, but it went against her nature to leave someone in need. Not when it could possibly be one of her girls.

* * *

Light in the hallway came from two sources. The stairway and Ari’s old room. There was no way she could chance going back in the direction of her room, with Nick’s lackey waiting for her, injured and undoubtedly pissed.

Ari crept along the hallway and whispered, “Hello? Anyone?”

“Ms. Grant!” she heard in reply.

“Yes! Who’s there? Hope?” She ran her hands along the walls, searching for a doorknob.

“Here! I’m in here!”

The muffled voice sounded closer and Ari’s hand made contact with a cool, metal doorknob. She twisted and pulled but it was locked.

“Ms. Grant!” Hope’s voice came from below and Ari couched, feeling along the door. There was a mail flap about halfway down. She pried it open, recoiling from the smell inside.

“Hope! Are you okay?” Ari asked, still unable to see, keeping one eye down the hall.

“Shanna never came back, Ms. Grant. I think she’s dead,” she cried. “Reggie came back on a tear the other night. Yelling and breaking things upstairs. The girls ran and hid in their rooms. He grabbed me by the throat and dragged me down here. I haven’t seen anyone since.”

“No food? Nothing?”

“No, and I don’t have a bathroom in here.” That was the smell.

A noise came from down the hall and Ari whispered, “shhh,” pressing herself as close as possible to the wall. The guy Ari had stabbed came toward her, limping. She fumbled for her knife, holding it to her chest. He stepped into the light of the stairwell and she could see the pain on his face and his shirt streaked with blood. With a vague look in her direction, he turned and started climbing the stairs. His leg must have hurt badly because each step brought a loud, stomping noise. Ari released a breath when he reached the top.

“Who was that?” Hope asked.

“I don’t know. Someone working for Nick I guess? A young guy…”

“That’s Desmond. He’s part of the crew.”

Of course. Nick had a whole group of young men working for him. “Okay, how do I get you out of here?”

“I don’t think you can. Reggie—Nick—told me I could rot in this hellhole. Do you think maybe he got caught? Maybe he was arrested. Maybe Shanna got help and they freaked out.”

Unlikely, Ari thought. That kid would be long gone if Nick had been arrested. She didn’t want to scare Hope, so she said, “I hope so, but I’m going to have to go up there and get help. Can you tell me anything about where we are?”

“Yes,” Hope said. “We’re in the basement of a house. Upstairs there is the main floor, and then another floor with bedrooms. All the other girls sleep in one room. The other rooms are for them to meet with men.”

Ari fought back the urge to vomit. Hope continued. “Reggie and Jace have their own rooms, too, you know, for the girls to meet with them, too.”

“Has anyone tried to escape?”

“No. There are bars on all the windows and doors, though. No one can get out.”

“Does anyone know we’re down here?”

She shook her head. “They definitely don’t know about you. They probably think I’m dead.”

“If the doors are locked, how can I get a key?”

“Only Jace and Reggie have a key. You’ll have to take it from them.”

Ari squeezed the knife in her hand. “Alright, I’m going to have to go up. Now, before I chicken out.”

“Go, but don’t forget about me, okay?”

Ari frowned and reached her hand into the slot, touching her fingers to Hope’s. “I’d never do that. I’ll be back.”

Hope let out a sob, something she’d never heard from the hardened kick-ass inner-city girl before. Ari fought back her own tears and took a deep breath of resolve. “I’m coming back, Hope. I promise.”

Ari walked away, clenching the knife in her hand so hard it hurt. In the quiet, dark hallway she heard Hope’s voice. “I believe you.”

* * *

Bright sunlight streamed through the window at the top of the stairs. Ari winced, having not seen the sun in days and the glare hurt her eyes.

The other thing was how quiet the house seemed. Daytime probably wasn’t the busiest time of day for these girls, so maybe they were asleep. Plus, Nick had to work to keep up his appearances.

She entered the living room, running her hand along the leather couch. All the furnishings were high quality and the room was spotless. She tried to figure out her next move. How to get the keys. The odds were not in her favor.

The main level appeared to be empty, so Ari took the chance and tried the doors, frantically pulling and pushing to get them to budge. Both had a bolted lock that could only unlock with a key. A long, glass patio door went out to the backyard. She managed to slide it open, and inhaled a deep gulp of air, but a long row of bars and another lock kept her firmly inside. Each window was the same. Even if Ari could open the door, she was met with locked bars on the other side.

The neighborhood looked plain and suburban. Quiet, identical ranch-style homes lined the streets. She opened her mouth to call for help but paused. What if Jace or Nick found her? They would kill her before anyone got the bars off the doors.

The best thing to do would be to find one of them and steal the key.

She followed the blood until she found a long smear down the back hallway wall. Maybe Desmond got out of the house. Maybe he’s lying in a pool of blood in the back. Ari didn’t care. Determined, she found the stairs to the upper floor. At the top, she gripped her knife and walked toward a series of closed doors. Several had a gold, thick slide lock on the outside.

Ari stopped at the first locked door and took a breath. The house was so quiet, the idea of opening the door terrified her. What if they were all dead? All gone? What if the plan really was to let Ari and Hope rot away in this house?

With her free hand, Ari slid the lock open. Startled, she gripped the knife so she wouldn’t drop it.

“Oh my god,” she said. Three mattresses covered the floor and eight girls lay across them, in various states of sleep. Only one sat with her back against the wall reading a fashion magazine. She had ratty blonde hair, and old, heavy makeup lined her eyes. She looked exhausted. The girl tensed when she saw Ari.

“Who are you?” the girl asked.

“I’m Ari,” she said. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged. “You one of Reggie’s girls, too?”

“No.” Ari said, but wasn’t she?

The girl nodded. Her eyes held that same glazed-over look Hope’s had when she would come to Ari’s room. “Yeah, you’re too old.”

“I’m here to help you get out of here. What’s your name?”

“Sydney,” she replied. “How are you going to get us out of here? There’s no way.” She nudged one of the sleeping girls with her foot. The pale girl lay on her stomach in shorts and a tight T-shirt. Dark red blood stained the mattress under her head, and her hands and feet were bound with duct tape. Painful-looking bruises covered her arms and legs. “That’s the last girl that tried to escape.”

“Oh god, is she dead?” Ari asked, stepping into the room. She pressed her fingers into the girl’s neck. She was warm and had a pulse. Tilting the injured girl’s head to the side she gasped. “Oh, no. No.”

“What?” Sydney asked, for the first time sounding alert.

“I, um. I know her and I need to get her help. And you. And all these girls.” Ari stood up, trying not to step on anyone. “Okay, do you know if Nic—Reggie or Jace is here? I need a key to get us out of here.”

The girl snorted. “Jace keeps that key around his neck, on a chain. You’re only getting it off of him in one of two ways.”

“How?”

“Killing him,” she said, eyeing the knife. She had an amused expression on her face. “Or screwing him.”

Ari took a step backwards and clenched her jaw. There was no way in hell she was getting into bed with that dirt bag. She’d stabbed Desmond. Maybe even killed him. She could do the same to Jace. She opened her mouth to tell Sydney as much but a rough hand grabbed her by the neck. She squeaked, dropping the knife to the ground in surprise.

Jace’s hard, entitled voice, whispered low in her ear. “I pick choice number two.”

TWENTY FIVE

“How’d you get out of your cage?” Jace asked, pushing her down the hallway and into a bedroom. This one held a bed with tacky red satin sheets and wide mirrors on the wall. He looked at the blood splattered across her shirt and shorts. He frowned. “Is that yours?”

“No. It’s Desmond’s. He may still be alive,” Ari retorted. “If you get him help now.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about Desmond.” Jace took a step forward and grabbed Ari by the chin. “I’ve wanted to get you alone for a long time.”

Ari stomped on his foot, and used her elbow like she’d seen the boys when they had their demonstration at her program, but Jace had a lot of weight and height on her. He smacked her across the mouth, so forcefully, she landed across the bed with a bounce. “Nick will kill you if he finds out,” she said, licking the blood off her lip.

“Once he finds out you tried to escape and killed one of his men? He won’t think twice. He’s gone anyway.” Jace stood over the bed and pulled off his shirt. His chest was covered in scars and just like Sydney said, a shiny silver key hung from a long chain. Ari lunged for it, and he swatted her back, proceeding to unbutton the top button on his jeans. “Don’t worry. I’ll kill you when I’m finished.”

Ari grimaced when he lowered his pants and she saw how aroused he was. The violence turned him on, and that incapacitating feeling of panic washed over her. At what he wanted to do. She thought back to what Davis told her. Always fight.

She waited until his pants were down to his ankles. Using all her weight, she rolled off the bed, crashing into the bedside table, toppling a lamp to the floor. Ari landed hard on her hip.

“You’re always a feisty bitch, I’ll give you that,” Jace yelled from the bed.

She scrambled to her feet and took a swipe at his chest, reaching for the key. Grasping her fingers around it, she yanked until it broke.

Jace reached for her and grabbed the back of her leg. Wriggling free, Ari used every ounce of energy she had left and kicked him between the legs.

“Motherfuc—” he cried, falling to a heap on the floor.

She ran.

* * *

The afternoon sun had faded and the hallway was darker than before. Ari ran as fast as she could down the stairs, stumbling down the final three. She slammed into the wall, but managed to stay on her feet, while holding onto the key with an iron grasp.

Her hands shook, making it almost impossible to get the key in the lock. Looking over her shoulder, she watched for Jace, wasting precious time. She cried out, “Thank you!” when the key finally unlocked the door, just as Jace came roaring down the stairs. Cool winter air slapped her across the face and she fell forward, desperate to get outside.

“Help!” she screamed. Jace had his hands around her ankles, pulling her back inside. “Help me!”

“Shut up,” Jace said, dragging her backwards. Ari fought, clawing her way across the front porch. She wouldn’t go back inside. He’d have to kill her first.

“What the—?” he said, dropping her feet. Something or someone flew over her head. Ari used the break to move as fast as she could, on her hands and knees, across the yard. She didn’t get far, because she was suddenly lifted in the air, carried bridal style.

“Let go!” she cried, kicking her feet. Her hands flew out, scratching and attacking.

“Ari, stop!” The voice triggered something inside her and she halted her attack “It’s me. I’m here.”

“Davis?” she finally looked at the man holding her instead of trying to get away. “Don’t take me back in there…please.” She’d already been betrayed once, by Nick. She couldn’t bear it if this were also a trick.

“You’re safe,” he told her, pressing his forehead to hers. He continued walking, carrying her away from the house.

“We can’t leave! They’re in the house! The girls, Hope! She’s in the basement and Shanna, she’s upstairs hurt. Nick did this. Reggie. He’s the one that did this,” she blubbered, tears falling down her cheeks. “We have to go back in.”

“We’re going, but I need you to go to the hospital, okay?” He handed her off to someone else, Peter, who picked her up like a ragdoll in his giant arms. “Peter’s going to take you. I’m going to deal with this. And Reggie, okay?”

“No! Don’t leave me!” Fear gripped Ari at the thought of being away from him. Away from assured safety.

“I have to. I’ll see you soon.” Davis kissed her gently. “Tell Detective Bryson everything. Only him.”

“Why him?”

“He knows enough to give me time. Remember, don’t talk to anyone else, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded and watched as he ran off to the house, leaving her with Peter.

“Those girls…”

“He’ll get them, but you’re banged-up pretty bad, let’s go before the cops show up. The neighbors will call at any moment.”

“But…”

“You can call your friend on the way.”

“Oliver? Oh my god, Oliver.” Ari had almost forgotten him in all the insanity.

“He’s been looking for you.”

Peter carried Ari to the car. Through the window, she looked back at the house. Several other boys from the GYC followed Davis in. Boyd had Jace held to the ground. Tying his hands behind him. “Why didn’t Davis call Detective Bryson himself?”

But Ari knew before he answered that this was a matter beyond the police, a personal vendetta between Davis and his brother. Davis would want to take him down on his own terms without legal interference. There would be no third chances.

* * *

Ari kept it together until Oliver showed up at the hospital. Before that, she had to play the part that she and Peter orchestrated on the way to there. He dropped her off in the ER then turned around and Ari ran to the nearest cop, requesting that he call Detective Bryson immediately. The officer recognized her from the missing persons reports and tried to get her statement but she held firm, refusing to speak to anyone but Bryson.

While she waited, emergency workers rushed her to an examination room. A short, older Asian nurse declared her dehydrated and hooked her to an IV. Other nurses came in and took her bloody clothes and clipped her nails, sealing them in plastic, tagged bags. Everything about her was now evidence in a crime. Including her body.

“Ari,” the doctor said, after completing most of this exam. He introduced himself as Dr. Marlow. He was young, probably doing his residency. Ari bet he had no idea about the magnitude of her being his patient. That this would be all over the news in a matter of hours. He stood next to her bed, going over her history. “Were you assaulted? Sexually? If so, you should be examined.”

Ari shook her head, fighting tears. “No. He tried to but, no.”

Thankfully, a commotion in the hallway stopped that line of talk. She hadn’t been abused, but the other girls couldn’t say the same. She’d been lucky.

“Is she in there?” she heard. Oliver. He shouted loudly, “I need to see her!”

“Please,” she begged the doctor. “Let him in. He’s my only family.”

“I’ve completed your exam so if you’d like him to come in, that’s fine. Overall, Ms. Grant you’re healthy. Apart from the dehydraton and exhaustion, your injuries are superficial, I’m confident you’ll make a swift recovery. At least physically. The police will be here soon. Let the nurses know if you need anything.” Dr. Marlow opened the door, allowing an eager Oliver to enter the room.

“Oh God, Ari,” he said, pushing the doctor aside. He looked like a mess, his hair more unruly than normal. Tired purple rings surrounded his eyes. He scooped her up in a hug. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Stop,” she cried, sobbing uncontrollably. “You know if you cry, I’m going to cry and then it will just be horrible, ridiculous crying.”

Oliver took her hand and tried his best to climb in the bed. “You were just gone Ari. One minute I knew you were in your bed and the next—gone. You didn’t show for work and neither Davis nor Nick knew where you were. I almost lost my mind.”

A knock interrupted their reunion and Oliver sat up. Detective Bryson stood at the door, a look of relief on his face.

“We’ve been looking for you,” he said.

“I’m supposed to tell you what happened,” she said. “Only you.”

“Okay, the doctor said you were ready to talk.”

“I am,” she looked at Oliver. “I want you to stay also.”

“Sure,” he said, holding her hand.

Ari took a deep breath and told both of them everything that had happened since she left her bedroom window.

TWENTY SIX

She couldn’t go home.

Not after being trapped in a look-a-like cell for almost two weeks. That’s how long it had been, she’d discovered. Twelve days. Nick had kept her hidden away, locked in that basement for twelve days. Oliver confessed he thought she was dead, hovering over her obsessively at the hospital, like she might disappear if he left her alone for a second. Davis, on the other hand, gritted his teeth and fisted his hands, barely able to look her in the eye.

He felt responsible.

She couldn’t go home.

Despite his guilt, Davis took her back to his apartment, safely tucked above the gym and a dozen gifted boys, who swore to protect her to their death. She thought it was a little dramatic, but Curtis confirmed the oath after giving her a hug. A rarity between caseworker and client.

She couldn’t go home, because Nick hadn’t been captured. She blocked out this information when she’d been told, instead, focusing on the fact that Davis took care of Jace and Desmond—Ari didn’t ask how. He assured her they would never bother her, or any other woman again. Assuming Jace was dead made her feel better, and Desmond was nothing more than a lackey. He’d fair okay in prison. Peter had called the police before Detective Bryson got to Ari, anonymously reporting multiple girls held captive at the house. The crew of boys left before the EMTs got there, slipping into the dark, climbing fences, leaving Davis, hooded and obscured as the face of the Vigilante. He pointed them downstairs to Hope’s cell and to the girls locked away on the second floor.

At night, Ari’s dreams were filled with the glint of Jace’s gold teeth. His hands on her body, and Nick’s manipulative grin. She woke, arms flailing, looking for contact—fighting her demons, but instead, warm soothing arms wrapped around her and she was calmed by Davis, who was there. Always.

“How did you know I’d need that knife?” she asked one night. She’d woken from another nightmare. Davis lifted her between his legs and comforted her from behind, letting her rest her back on his chest.

“I had a feeling you may need it one day.”

“A feeling?” She craned her neck to see his face in the darkened room.

“I knew you’d need it the same way you knew those girls needed your help. We’ve been over how my gift works,” he explained. “My father gave the blade to me when I was thirteen to practice knife fighting. I felt better knowing you had something close by.”

“Even if I didn’t know it was there.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “You found, it didn’t you?”

“Yeah, barely.” She didn’t want to think about that day, so she asked, “Does Curtis have a gift?”

“He’s developing one. He has incredible speed. He was the one that took Jace down when Jace chased you out of the house. That kid launched at him like a rocket.”

Ari made a face. “You’re kidding. Curtis?”

“He lost it when he found out you were missing. He insisted on coming.” He laughed at her incredulousness. “I keep telling you, these kids love you.”

Davis pressed his lips to her neck and ran his hands down her arms to her stomach. She grazed her fingers over his tattoo and gathered the courage to ask the question she’d been so afraid to ask. “Do you think he’ll come back? For me?”

His muscles tensed. Ari knew it was because they barely spoke about him and because Davis was furious his brother managed to get away. Finally, he said, “I don’t know.”

“I think he will,” she confessed. “I don’t think he’ll give up, you know?”

“He vanished. Once I realized Nick and Reggie were the same, I searched his home and offices. He hid himself so well after my father’s death, I assumed he had moved on, unsuccessfully. I thought he was probably in the system somewhere. I didn’t think he could achieve success on his own. I underestimated him. I always have. That’s my flaw. He manipulated his enrollment into law school and into your circle of friends.”

“Why me? I knew him long before you and I ever met. He knew Oliver in school.”

“I suspect his affections for you were real. Or as real as he could manage. He’s so egotistical that he probably thought he could keep his two lives separate. When you and I got involved, that probably sent him over the edge.”

The idea that Nick and Ari could have been a serious couple while he kept a whorehouse on the side was disturbing. What if they had gotten engaged or married? She had considered it possible at one point.

“Where do you think he is, now?”

“Shanna approached one of my men at the park, that’s how we discovered you were still alive. We still didn’t have a location, but she said the names Nick and Reggie and it all started to connect. He must have been afraid we were close to finding him and ran,” Davis said, shrugging. “He’s never been one for confrontation, unless he knows he has the upper hand. But I think, at some point, he’ll come back and settle his issues with me.”

“Did you really not know Nick and Reggie were the same person?”

“No, not until that night. I told you I wasn’t stalking you. I had no real claim to you—you could see other people.”

His words hurt even if that hadn’t been his intention. He seemed to sense this and said, “That day you went missing, I almost lost my mind.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her body. “You didn’t show at work or at the GYC. You didn’t return my calls. I knew something was wrong. The bouncer at the club confirmed you had been there that night but he didn’t see you leave.”

“The bartender drugged me.”

“Son of a bitch.” Davis kissed the side of her neck. “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again,” he swore. “Not Nick or any of these kids or anyone else.”

She believed him. That he could and would protect her, but could he protect himself? Ari wasn’t sure. She also wasn’t sure if she could handle losing someone else. Those were deep thoughts for another day. Right then, she needed to heal, and Davis helped her struggle through each day.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” she told him, twisting so her arms could wrap around his back and chest. She drifted, back to a fitful sleep, tempered by his power and warmth.

* * *

Stanton allowed Ari to use the conference room to meet with the girls. Her girls. In the past, she’d always thought herself above them. Older, law abiding, and educated. Part of that came from starting the job so young, barely looking older than a teenager herself. Later, she realized a little bravado could earn respect from these kids, but that day, they were the same. Victims. Survivors.

She hadn’t returned to work yet. It had only been two weeks since she’d escaped. Rebecca routed her emails and messages to the other workers picking up the slack, but she was starting to worry about the kids. They needed a full-time caseworker. She just wasn’t sure if she was ready to go on the streets alone. She wasn’t sure when she ever would be. Not with Nick still on the loose.

“She’s here,” Rebecca said from the door, with an encouraging smile. Ari’s hands began to sweat, terrified to see Hope. What if she hated her? Blamed her? She deserved whatever came her way. If she had only believed her months ago, this wouldn’t have happened.

All those questions stopped when the young woman stepped through the doorway. Ari crossed the room and smiled at the girl who had always given her so much grief. The girl who had carried her emotions so close and had been impossible to break. Hope was no longer this girl. But to Ari’s surprise, she flung her arms around her neck and hugged her so tight she finally had to break for air.

“Thank you for coming back,” Hope said, pushing tears off her face.

Ari choked back a bittersweet smile. “I promised.”

They were interrupted by Shanna’s mother, who had driven her daughter to the office. A cast wrapped around Shanna’s right arm, and her head still had a yellowish bruise at the temple. The rest of the bruises had faded, but she looked skinnier than ever. Ari doubted either girl got much sleep. Neither of them had the luxury of sleeping with a superhero.

Ari also gave Shanna a hug and said, “Thank you for risking everything to help us. We wouldn’t be here without you.”

The three of them cried together and Ari told them what she knew about the case. She admitted Nick was still out there and that they all needed to be careful. Shanna’s mother held her daughter close and they both looked horrified at the news.

“The good news is that the Department of Juvenile Justice has decided to release you from your commitments early. They think you’ve been through enough, although I think you both need some long-term counseling. I suspect Judge Hatcher may be able to help us with that if we ask.”

“What about you?” Hope asked. “Are you going to counseling also?”

“Of course. It’s very important,” she lied. Davis couldn’t even get her to see the GYC’s counselor. She was afraid any amount of probing might send her straight over the edge.

The girls left with more hugs, promising to keep in touch. Ari hoped they would stay out of trouble, but the odds were against them. Glory City didn’t have the best record with their youth.

“When are you going home?” Rebecca asked, once the girls left. “Or are you moving in with Davis?”

“No, I’m not moving in.”

“Because I’m okay with you moving in. Obviously he cares about you.”

“No. I just need to be there for right now, and he gets that. While I handle all this and get my room fixed. Or move. Whichever works better. Really, that’s why I’m staying there,” she said unconvincingly. The look on Rebecca’s face implied she didn’t believe it, either.

* * *

It took a while before Ari was ready to have sex with Davis again. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jace. Every time Davis touched her, she felt guilty. Eventually, though, he taught her to focus on him, to keep her eyes on his and to let him take away the guilt.

Davis’s lips pressed against the star, his star, in the center of her chest. Ari never told him she got it for him, for his role in her life and how every second she spent with him made her feel more alive. She didn’t need to. Maybe getting the tattoo had been some kind of premonition about the two of them. He grounded her more than she ever realized was possible. The connection to Davis was part of what gave her the courage to fight her way out of that basement.

Her need for him went beyond the physical rush he gave her, the acceleration of her heart, the electricity between their skin. They were bound emotionally now and it scared the ever-loving fudge out of her.

“I know—” he said, grazing his teeth over her stars, causing her to squirm. He tightened his grip on her hip and waist to keep her still. “—that you’re planning on going back to the office, but I want you to think about working for me.”

She froze. “What?”

“Come work for me. Work with these kids. They love and respect you. Plus, you’ll feel safe.”

Ari sat up on her elbows and Davis stretched his arms out, hovering over her. She saw the curve of his biceps in the moonlight. “Davis…”

“Just think about it, okay?” he asked, distracting her with a long kiss on the lips. Or trying to, at least.

“You’re not ready for that,” she told him, once he came up for air. “Neither am I.”

“That’s not true.”

She laughed and ran her hand over his head, feeling the soft, buzzed hair. “It’s complicated,” she said, repeating what he’d told her on another night. “I know we’ve got this thing and it’s good, but rushing this seems crazy. We’re both pretty independent people. I mean, we like random hook-ups in bars. You spend your nights trolling for bad guys. I like to spend mine watching reality TV with Oliver.”

“That bar situation was a one-time thing,” he said.

“Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “When my parents died, something in me just stopped. I went through the motions, working, running, hanging out with Oliver. But underneath I had this numbness. The only way I could find a flicker of my old self was through the tattoos or going to the club. Taking risks.” She looked up into Davis’s face. “You make the numbness go away. And I don’t want that to stop, but I’ve got to figure out how to survive on my own. Especially now.”

He sighed and rolled so he faced her. Picking up her hand, he laced his fingers through hers. “So wow, you really don’t want to get traditional with me?”

“By living over a gym of sweaty teenage boys and dealing with their emotional crises all day? Not yet.”

In the darkened room, Ari saw his eyes narrowed. “But ‘not yet’ isn’t a full ‘no’, right?”

“I suppose not,” she said. He dropped her hand and his fingers wandered over her exposed flesh. Unable to resist, Ari climbed across his body and settled over his hips. His body trembled against hers and butterflies rippled through her stomach in response. This was another reason she needed space. Davis almost gave her too much life. They might not ever leave the bedroom if she moved in for real. “I need to go home and figure out my life. Get my courage back. Make dinner for Oliver.”

He traced the edge of her body with a finger, eliciting a shiver. “Can I still sneak in your room at night?”

She smiled and gave him a kiss, tugging on his bottom lip. “Anytime.”

* * *

Moving home took her a month, three coats of paint, new furniture, bedding, and an upgraded security system on her bedroom windows. Plus, Oliver promising to sleep at the end of her bed.

“You going to be okay?” Davis asked from the bottom step of her front porch. Colored lights wove around the porch railings and columns. A surprise from Oliver for her homecoming. Ari stared at the man in front of her, handsome and strong. Caring and obscenely compassionate. She realized that Christmas was two weeks away. Even though she’d spent the last month living in his house—sharing his bed—she had no idea if she should get him a present.

Maybe this was what Davis meant by “complicated”.

“I’ll be fine,” Ari told him. Her hands were shoved in the big pocket of her sweatshirt, but she longed to touch his face. Feel the burn of heat from his skin. Even after all this, he was the one who made her feel alive, but even so, she needed to go home.

“The boys will be watching,” he told her. “You let me know if anything happens, alright?”

“Okay. I will. I promise.”

“Take care, Ari,” he told her, like he wouldn’t see her for a while. Maybe he wouldn’t. She didn’t know where things went from there.

“Bye, Davis.”

He leaned in to kiss her, hard and possessive, cradling her back with one arm. She kept her balance by gripping his shoulder, growing lightheaded from his intensity. Even when he pulled back, he kissed her twice more. Okay then, she would be seeing him again. Soon.

Ari entered the house knowing that he was probably still out there, and if it wasn’t him, he had members of his crew posted to watch. She should have minded but she didn’t. They made her feel safe.

Shutting the door, she found Oliver, waiting with Thai food, still in their plastic containers. Just how she liked it. She sat next to him, crossing her legs and getting comfortable.

“You spoil me,” she said, reaching for a fork.

“You have no idea. I recorded all your favorite shows while you were gone and saved them all for when you came back. I’m dying to find out who got kicked off Survivor.”

“You did that for me?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes.

“I love you, Ari. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t,” she said.

Snuggled next to Oliver, Ari shut out the danger and men with super powers and gifts that made no sense. She shut out the bad guys waiting for their next chance. Because if she learned anything during the past months it was that she wanted to live. She wanted to learn how to feel again, push herself and continue to help those in need.

From now on she would just do it with help.

THANK YOU

Vigilant was an interesting book for me to write. Parts of it were definitely autobiographical. Back in the day I was a juvenile probation officer in Atlanta. There was a Hope (not named Hope) who had a sugar daddy and there was an urban legend about a teenage prostitution ring. To this day I have no idea if it was a real thing or something the girls made up to get out of trouble.  My brain told me it was fake. My heart worried that I was wrong.

Sadly, there was no Atlanta Vigilante. I looked Hope up not long ago on a crime website. She’s in jail for assault. I’m not surprised although I wish things were different for her and for all the others. In some ways I feel like since I couldn’t change their lives for the better maybe I could rewrite history, at least fictionally. Hence their inclusion in this book.

I am not Ari although I do have one tattoo in the shape of a star. Writing is weird because you feel like people think you’re just writing about yourself and you are but of course you aren’t.  Other than the bare bones of being a caseworker and being in an armed robbery (at an auto parts store) everything else about Ari is fiction. No sneaking out late at night to bars for me. Plus I’ve never had an Oliver although I sure wish I did!

I’d like to thank Sam, of course, for making this beautiful cover and the book inside. She’s truly gifted and I’ve learned to leave our cover conversations to about three minutes long. She knows what I want even before I know what I want and that is true talent.

Thanks to my editor Claire King, my beta readers, Vanessa, Liz, Bev, Alicia and Tracie. They always push me to become a better writer. I appreciate the support of so many readers and bloggers who have supported me without hesitation. Without them I would have quit this a while ago (well, maybe. I’m a creative addict.)

Vigilant is definitely my first Urban Fantasy and my first real “Adult” novel.  I didn’t even know what genre to call it when I finished it. My goal is to make Vigilant a series so don’t hate me for leaving threads loose. It was on purpose.

ABOUT ANGEL

Angel Lawson lives in Atlanta with 2 mini-superheroes, one big-superhero wannabe and a growing herd of pets. She spends her day creating art out of words, glue and glitter while chasing away zombies, serial killers and ghosts at night. She is the author of FanGirl, The Wraith Series and an adult romance, Serial Summer. The third book in the Wraith series will be released in December 2013.

Find Angel Online: www.AngelLawson.com

Twitter: @LawsonWrites

Facebook: www.facebook.com/LawsonWrites

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/AngelLawson

Amazon: www.amazon.com/Angel-Lawson/e/b0076krwy4

Email: Me@AngelLawson.com

ALSO READ

WRAITH: BOOK 1

WRAITH 2: SHADOW BOUND

PLUS:

Find FanGirl on Amazon  |  Find Serial Summer on Amazon