"Lonny got spooked."

She set the bowl in the sink and turned. "How?"

"No idea. Everything was going down fine. Then I asked him for some K and he just . . . I don't know . . . freaked out. Accused me of being a narc." Another meaningful pause. A brief lock of their eyes. Reece nodded. "I think we're cool, though."

"What changed his mind?"

"Not sure, exactly." His meaningful glance was directed at me this time.

Gena carried a bowl of hot water, some clean towels, and a first aid kit to the living room. She pulled a milk crate to the couch and pushed Reece into the sofa, then scooted between his legs. I looked the other way while she helped him out of his jacket and sponged down the worst of his wounds. He winced and cursed, and she swatted him playfully on the shoulder. My stomach clenched each time she touched him or leaned in to examine the cuts on his face.

Reece told her I was nothing and it stung more than it should. I told myself I didn't want to know if she was actually someone to him.

He looked at me out of his good eye and touched my leg. I jumped.

"You okay?" he whispered. I nodded, inching away from him. I was edgy and drained. I didn't want to feel anymore. He withdrew his hand, wiping both on his jeans, hiding the blood and dirt that wouldn't wipe away inside clenched fists.

Gena evaluated her handiwork. "Keep the butterfly clean and dry. I don't think you'll need stitches. You've got a few bruised ribs, so don't do anything crazy for the next few days." She tossed him a clean shirt. "You left this in my car last weekend. I washed it for you." She grinned, another silent message passing between them. I needed some air.

"I'll wait for you outside." I was already halfway to the door. I didn't want to be there when he kissed her good night.

His hand beat mine to the doorknob. "That's not necessary," he said sharply. "Good night, Gena," he grumbled. "And thanks a lot."

"Ten cuidado, mi hermano."

I didn't speak Spanish, but she winked and smiled wryly. He gave her an admonishing look as he bent down to peck her cheek, then he pulled the door shut behind us.

"Drop me off here." The bike rumbled through Sunny View, stopping a block from my trailer. Mona's shift was eight to four. She wouldn't be home for at least an hour, but I didn't need the neighbors ratting me out. Reece killed the engine and waited for me to get free of the helmet. My hair was wild with snarls and I smoothed it down with filthy hands, cringing as I imagined what I must look like to him. He was staring at me.

"What were you doing in that park tonight?"

I thrust the helmet at him. "Aside from rescuing you?" He caught it against his sore ribs and clenched his teeth. Then

fisted it like he wanted to throw it. "That's not what I meant." "I could ask you the same question."

He lowered his voice. "You know exactly what I was doing." "Yeah. I saw the whole thing. And it scared the hell out of

me!"

"I just need to know . . . were you there to meet Lonny?"

He looked hard into my eyes, waiting for my answer as

though a life hung in the balance. Why did I feel like that life

was mine?

"I was looking for you." I blushed, grateful for the darkness. "I saw your bike. Thought you might be here . . . you

know . . . picking someone up . . ."

"Picking someone up?" It sounded ridiculous hearing him

say it out loud. Seeing the stupefied expression on his face.

"And you thought it would be okay to follow me?" I winced. "I don't know what I thought. I guess I thought

you might need . . . help . . . or something."

"That was stupid," he muttered.

"You're right. It was stupid. It was stupid to care if you're

getting yourself killed. Stupid to think you might need my

help."